Winchester
Kingdom of Wessex

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Her pale hands trembled, nimble fingers grasped onto the basin as she leaned over it with her head tilted down this caused her hair to fall and encircle her, the brown locks covered her from the flicker of candle fire. The blazing flame casted a yellow gleam across the small room as Lynette pushed her hair back and stood back up. Her stare latched itself ahead into the small mirror, her reflection peered back at her and for a moments time she stayed there unable to blink as the sickening feeling emerged once more. With a gasp she leaned back down and emptied the small contents of her stomach into the basin her chest heaving in discomfort.

Though her feet are secured and stable on the ground her body felt as if she were upon a deck of a ship that was forcing itself through a swarm of tumultuous waves, she felt a flood of nausea take a hold of her senses and her stomach recoiled into itself- twisting into a manner which made her feel queasy, the need to sit down had overwhelmed her.

Lynette grabbed a cloth and washed up, using a different tiny one to clean her face before she peered back into the mirror. Behind her the arch of candlelight filtered through and draped the room in a gentle tone. It brought Lynette a small sliver of solace amidst the raging storm of worry that had began to spread- thriving on her anxious nature. She is not one to get sick easily so this uncomfortable attack of vomiting she had unexpectedly experienced had troubled her, immensely.

Her eyes held a trace of fatigue in them. Lynette knew something was wrong and she hoped it was a malady stricken from the winter chill, the air had suddenly dropped and from that it delivered forth a numbing embrace. She glanced once more before taking her leave, her eyes adjusted to the illumination that peeked through the partially drawn curtains, the sunlight streamed through composing mellow shapes across the wooden floor.

A groan emitted through the calm air and Lynette's gaze drifted toward the bed, the covers messily wrapped around a body, hair dishevelled and sprawled over a pillow and limbs outstretched. Her lips curved into an amused smile as she observed his tired and sleepy state slowly become confused as the palm of his hand patted the side of the bed she once occupied.

Across from the bed the fire cackled, the wood burnt and the spurts of flames rising floated away into the air, she could feel its warmth cloak the exposed skin of her arms. Her hands reached forward toward a jug of water, her fingers shook slightly but she ignored it and decided it was from the besetting exhaustion she felt. Her lips wrapped themselves over the rim of the cup and she took a large sip, the cool water revived her parched throat and she felt as if she could now breathe comfortably without the feel of dry air pinching at her.

Two weeks had passed, these weeks she will not soon forget- ones filled with happiness and euphoria, bathed in blessedness, feelings Lynette had not known for a long while had now overtaken her and she relished in it praying that these so moments never end.

"I thought we both had decided not to leave the bed until the sun had risen." His tired laced voice travelled the room and Lynette looked to him, she placed down the cup.

"I regret to inform you the sun had risen a while ago." She shook her head.

Sihtric sat up in the bed, his hand grasped the cover and he tilted his head back as he let out a groan from his lips before his gaze fixed itself upon her, he nodded his head "A new rule-"

"No, no new rule- you cannot just go about making new rules." She sighed.

"I can and I will."

"Well I will not abide by them, it is almost midday so you must get up now." She demanded, standing at the end of the bed her hands playfully grabbed the covering.

"If you wish to see my bare chest all you have to do is ask." Sihtric teased.

She scoffed and threw down the cover as if she had just been scorched by it, "I would rather stare directly at the sun and risk loosing the ability to see."

"Is that how you speak to your husband?" He raised his brows, "Where is the affection, the fondness..."

"I have become tired of you..." Her voice trailed of -a tiny smile upon her pink lips- as she walked over to her side of the bed, her hands rummaged through the small wooden draw beside the bed. As she did so- fully immerged in her doings- she did not foresee Sihtric's hand wrap itself around her wrist and pull her down onto the bed. 

"Well we cannot have that, can we?" He whispered, "...for I have not tired of you."

"You will.."

"Oh, I do not think I will." He pushed back her hair with a touch so soft Lynette thought it to be a flutter of a feathered wing of a bird, a gentle bird.

Her hand reached up and she brushed back his hair, her eyes fixated on his- the different coloured irises donning a look of blended adoration and devotion- or so it seemed to her, she hoped it was that. He looked at her the same way he always had done except this time it was evident to her, she could pick it out and her composure would falter as her cheeks would heat up, perhaps a roseate bloom would flourish there which she would try hard to hide, all her efforts lost in vain since the flush would just spread further- expanding.

"We should really get up now, the day will pass us by if we stay like this." She pushed him back and sat herself up on the bed.

"I am content with that, are you not?"

"You will grow lazy and fat this way."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Stop responding to me with questions." She rolled her eyes.

"But is it? Will you grow out of love for me, I should get up and fight perhaps I should fight that blonde fool." He smirked.

"You need not fight anyone." She exhaled, humoured until she furrowed her brows and glanced back to him, "Blonde fool?"

He raised his brows urging her to remember and she did so almost instantly, she smacked his upper chest and he mockingly scowled before she could pull her hand back he grasped onto it, he intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

"You will not fight Everard." She demanded.

"And why not? You cannot tell me he does not frustrate you.."

"He does but then again you frustrate me too, so should I fight you?"

He laughed, "I would let you win."

"I do not require you to let me win, I can best you without you having to hold yourself back." Lynette glared.

"I am not opposed to trying now."

Her brow arched and then she pushed him, taking him by surprise. His back hit the bed and she sat herself on top of his chest, her legs on either side of his waist as she wrapped her hands around his neck, tight but not enough to stop the air leaving his lips. His eyes briefly widened and his lips parted in astonishment. She leaned down and pressed a kiss upon his lips, his hands had found their way to her hips holding onto her. Lynette then pulled back and tilted her head.

"You see, I won."

"Fine..." He breathlessly muttered, "Just kiss me again."

Lynette patted his chest, removed his grasp on her hips -which turned out to be a difficult task for his grip would just tighten, when she had succeeded she stepped off the bed and looked down at him, "If you need me I will be downstairs with the Lady Gisela." She tied her hair back as she spoke, her neck exposed to his fervent stare and he released a shaky exhale.

"Lynette you are so..." He groaned as she left, "I will come and find you!" The door shut and it drowned out his frustrations Lynette lightly laughed under her breath from it.

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"I am just merely testing your strength, you must disarm me." Valaena informed as she passed Lynette a sword, "Try not to hit me with it." She laughed.

Lynette nodded her head as her hand wrapped itself around the hilt of the sword -strong and firmly- she moved back a few steps and positioned herself as best as she could remember, Sihtric's deep voice in the back of her mind guiding her every placement.

The sun had emerged from behind the sudden rise of beclouded fog, nestled between the grey ethers of the azure as the sound of rushing water nearby melodiously traversed through the mist its harmony lost into pieces. Lynette basked in the serene sound of the cosmos around her, ever restful.

"Your position." Valaena admired, "It is good."

"Thank you." Lynette breathed out, "Although I am not too sure you will hold the same opinion on my disarming skills."

"Do not overthink it."

Lynette took in a deep breath to ease the tension in her nerves and muscles, her hand tightened its grasp on the sword as she stepped forward her watchful gaze trained solely on Valaena who took a step back and then began to circle Lynette. The brunette furrowed her brows before she caught on and began to do the same, her stance across from the Dane. Lynette watched as Valaena took a step forward and she did the same, the silence slipped between them and then suddenly Lynette lunged forward her sword pointed toward Valaena who took a step back and raised her sword up to block Lynette's attack.

"You have made contact with my sword, how do you go about disarming me?" Valaena inquired, the sound of their swords clashing together still revibrating through the atmosphere.

Lynette sighed from frustration for she did not know, her grip remained sturdy on the hilt as she pulled back the sword and then raised it aiming for the other side. Valaena caught this and yet again managed to block her attack, "I had said to disarm me, not try and kill me." She laughed.

"You will not die by my sword Valaena." Lynette cackled as she stepped back.

"You are good with a sword but I am better." Valaena sniggered.

"I know that." Lynette rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

"If you wish to best me then disarm me, come on." She taunted.

Lynette exhaled frustratedly, "Yes well it is not as easy as it is said."

The brunette bit her lip -her teeth dug into the flesh of her lips- and she narrowed her gaze breathing in to steady her beating heart and alleviate her frantic composure, she will only leave here once she has disarmed Valaena.

"I had shown you this a few days ago..." Valaena reminded her, "How is it you have already forgotten?"

"I do not tend to frequent battle strategies in my leisure time."

"You should."

Lynette once again stepped back and raised up her sword her jaw clenched in determination, she was all too immersed in her need to prevail that she had not noticed a certain Irishman and raven-haired Dane approach them, they stood to the side away from eyesight yet Valaena had caught them.

Her knuckles flashed white and she took a step forth with her sword raised up, she was about to hit Valaena when the Dane-woman realised she, too, raised hers up and blocked Lynette however the brunette's strength was ever ferocious and she had managed to knock the sword out of Valaena's grasp. Lynette dropped hers with a wide-eyed stare of astonishment before she cheered, her laughs filled with pure excitement.

"Am I ready for the battlefield now? I happen to think so." She chuckled.

She felt a hand grab her by the arm and pull her into an embrace, his head placed itself on her shoulder and she turned her neck to be met with the green-grey eyes of her husband, "I do not care if you were the finest warrior around, I would not let you fight." He breathed into her ear.

Lynette rolled her eyes, her head turned back to glance ahead "Did you not just see what I did? I managed to disarm Valaena."

"I did see that and I am very proud, Lynn." He whispered as his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, she abruptly nudged him in the chest taking him by surprise she walked out of the embrace and turned to look at him. "I will bloody my hands so you will never need to do such a thing."

Lynette glanced away as she felt her cheeks heat up, a flutter swarmed her stomach and she breathed out, "But you can tend to my wounds, yes?" He jested.

"Mayhaps." She quickly replied.

Valaena and Finan approached them, "Your woman seems to be getting better than you, Sihtric." The Irishman jested.

"Well of course she is, she has an exceptional teacher." Valaena enthusiastically acclaimed.

"I taught her first." Sihtric retorted.

"You did a shit job." Valaena snidely smiled, "Everything she now knows is because of me."

Sihtric scowled, "I did not."

"Let us ask the woman of the hour." Finan laughed then all eyes turned and latched themselves onto Lynette who shook her head and began to walk away, "No, do not involve me in your foolish disputes."

Sihtric rushed towards her and grabbed her arm, he leaned down to whisper into her ear "I have not forgotten this morning." She stopped -breathed out- and then looked to him with a feigned expression of perplexation "I do not know what you speak off."

"I could just remind you now, if you wish it so." He bit the top of her ear and Lynette gasped out, she pushed him back and sent him a cadaverous stare, irises flamed in irritation "Or you can answer the question...." He teased, "Say me."

"You both bicker like children." Lynette rolled her eyes, she turned to Valaena but not before she briefly glanced at Sihtric, "Valaena." She returned before she abruptly and quickly turned around to leave. Sihtric could hear Finan's amused laugh fill the air and he turned to him with a glare, "Shut up."

Valaena smacked the back of his head, "If you want I could also teach you I have observed, of late, your flailing and weak arms." She teased.

"I think Finan would benefit from your assistance more."

"Oh fuck off would you." The Irishman scowled.

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The incandescence of daylight bathed the courtyard in a tame aureate gleam. The peaceful hum that encompassed the wind, though, that was shattered rather harshly as the sudden surge of metal against metal pounded through the once somnolent breeze. Grunts of soreness and perseverance surfaced in-between the serenade. Rowena had previously occupied the courtyard with her sister, Aelflaed, as they both sat embordering- the perfect practice for a lady, a gentle pass time, a woman of noble birth should be well versed yet Rowena struggled never able to truly grasp the skill. 

Her gaze fixed itself ahead of her -out of curiosity- she observed the prince, Atheling Edward as he struggled against a guard whose name just slipped passed her memory. She laughed under her breath this caught her sisters attention and she nudged Rowena.

"What amuses you?" She hushed.

"Nothing."

Aelflaed gave her a knowing look as if to say she knows it is a lie.

"Can I not just laugh? I find amusement in the littlest of things..." She tilted her head toward the prince and Aelflaed followed the movement she then looked back to Rowena with a shake of her head in disappointment, "I know you want to laugh, you can, go on."

"Making jests at the expense of the future king of Wessex is not ladylike." Aelflaed rolled her eyes.

"And what a fine king he will make." Rowena sighed turning her gaze back to the needle and fabric in her lap.

"I do not recall a reason for your dislike of him."

"Where do I even begin, and how can you not sister?" Rowena scowled rather displeased and peeved that she would forget all the horrible tricks he had played on her growing up, in the need for a humorous escape for his selfish amusement.

Aelflaed exhaled, "You were children then, it would be best if you let bygones be bygones."

"Were we children last week when I happened to find a cockroach in my rooms here--"

"How are you even sure he was the one that placed it there?"

"It was on my bed, on my pillow and if we are discussing children- he is the childish one." Rowena sneered from the cascade of annoyance that just filtered through her at memory of his foolish antics, they had not seen each other nor spoken for a long while and yet he still cannot help himself.

Aelflaed sighed as she took back to immersing herself in the art of embroidery and Rowena leaned back in boredom as she continued to watch Edward fail at his sword-work. The doors opened and the King and Queen -Alfred and Aelswith- appeared, they made their way toward Edward and came to a stop before his training as they stood watching, a small smile of adoration had arisen on Aelswith's lips. Moments went by and the Queen's stare faltered and she took to taking in the structure of the courtyard.

Her gaze latched onto Aelflaed's embroidering with a hesitant smile which fell further when she glanced towards Rowena's, "Do you not wish to embroider?" The queen asked.

"It is not that I wish not to but that I do not possess a talent for the art." Rowena kindly replied.

"How do you presume to improve if you do not practice?"

"Believe me, my lady, I have practiced and I think it best if I do not continue at something which has its mind set on evading me."

Aelswith cracked a small smile of amusement, "Or perhaps it is yourself that wishes to evade it rather than the art itself- your passions lie elsewhere Rowena I have not forgotten."

"It is true, I do not particularly find joy in this." She picked up the fabric and placed it behind her.

"Do tell me, has your swordsmanship improved?" The queen asked.

"I can tell you with certainty I am far better, I am a wonder to be seen." Rowena slightly laughed.

This caught Edward's attention and he quickly glanced to the side, his gaze narrowed at the sight of his mother immersed in what appears to be a delightful conversation with the one person he dislikes -or so he had managed to believe, through countless tricks and jests not only from him but the Lady Rowena is not as she appears as he can recall, she smiled up at his mother and he rolled his eyes.

"Getting distracted by a pretty lady will inevitably be your downfall, my prince." Steapa informed as he nudged him.

Edward scoffed under his breath, "Pretty, that is amusing."

Rowena watched as Edward continued to fight against the guard who she now remembered to be known as Steapa, she watched as the guard bested him time and time again and each time she could not help but revel in his discomfort, it appeared Aethelwold felt the same as he sat laughing, his back against a pillar. If there was one person she despised more than the Atheling it would be the Atheling's cousin -nephew to the king- Aethelwold, the man was nothing but the pillar of inadequacy.

The doors to the castle opened and Rowena caught sight of a man, brown haired and somewhat tall, as he walked inside toward the king who turned and welcomed the man, "Uhtred, what is your opinion of Edward's sword skill?" Alfred inquired.

Uhtred. The Uhtred who broke the shield wall at Ethandun, of course Rowena had heard the tale, it was spoke all over the lands- she remembered hearing it from the stable boys back in Wiltshire.

The man looked back to Edward and Rowena followed after his gaze, the prince grunted and groaned as he fought against Steapa with one last fling of his wrist the guard had bested him yet again, he pushed the boy forward and Edward stumbled this caused Aethelwold, who sat perched up with a large smile on his devious lips which grew as a laugh tumbled out. Rowena bit her lip to push back her laugh, her sister had taken to also observing the duel.

"My opinion Lord, is that Steapa is wasting his time." Uhtred replied, gaze still locked securely ahead of him.

Aelswith scowled, "Would you care to explain?"

"I will, Lady." He stepped forward and advanced toward the prince, "Steapa stop! Stop this nonsense, you should not be using swords, skills are taught with a staff." Uhtred informed as he grabbed two wooden staffs throwing one to Edward who caught it instantly.

"Thank you Lord." The guard breathed out, tired and in need of a rest.

"I prefer to feel the weight of a sword." Edward exasperatedly exhaled, overly exhausted.

Aelswith stepped forward, "It is a sign of the Atheling's bravery." She encouraged.

"Let us watch, my dear." Alfred in turn -also- took a step forth to stand side by side with his wife, his hand briefly tapped hers.

Rowena herself stood up, her sister grabbed her hand "What are you doing?"

"I wish to get a better view, I will just be there." She pointed to the pillar which Aethelwold sat against and then she pulled back her hand and went to stand beside the nauseating man. Upon her arrival he turned to look at her with a smirk to which Rowena felt immediately disgusted by, she took a few steps to the side to create a distance between them although she wishes she could grab the staff and knock the man unconscious.

"Dear little Rowena..." Aethelwold teased, "My... how much you have grown in these past years."

Rowena breathed out yet she managed to ignore him, the gnawing need to grab the staff ever prominent and emerging but still she managed to hold herself back- Aelflaed would say such thoughts are unbecoming of a lady.

"My apologises, little is not a fitting word anymore is it?"

He tapped the wall as he leaned across to get closer to her. Rowena abruptly snapped her head to him her eyes ablaze with a glare -aggravated and repulsed, raging- she shuffled away once more, "Do you still happen to call yourself King, that is not a fitting word for you, is it?" She jeered.

He clenched his jaw and his hand formed fists as he glared at her, "It seems you have also lost your manners."

She rolled her eyes, "Did I ever have any, for you, to begin with?" She breathed out in amusement.

"Mother please." She heard Edward annoyingly plead as he turned back to Uhtred, she then looked to back to them with an interested stare.

"Show me." Uhtred demanded.

Edward began to fight against Uhtred, raising his staff to hit it against Uhtred's, the elder man was much too quick and skilled he managed to deflect each and every single one of Edward's attacks with such ease Rowena almost believed he had been born with a sword in his grasp. As she watched Edward duel against Uhtred her eyes felt as if someone was burning a hole through her, watching her with such intensity she felt as if she were a target of some heinous execution and her gaze turned. It roamed over the courtyard at a speed so quick and swift until she found the culprit, the so called guard she had met two weeks ago or so, stood with a smile upon his lips- she narrowed her gaze.

Everard stood with his stare latched on her she scowled at him and then turned back to look at the prince and Uhtred contest. He will admit the sight is amusing- the Atheling struggled as his arms failed to keep up with the speed he forced himself to advance at. The French man could not free himself from her thought, her voice as she mocked him and her eyes as she glared at him and so he had wandered the courtyard many a time in the hope he may see her and now she had finally appeared, stood with the same glower in her gaze as she had done so that day in the forest. He knows she is a lady of noble birth, daughter to the richest ealdorman but he does not mind he is simply admiring- there is no sin, he believed, in humbly admiring the beauty that God had bestowed upon such a fair maiden.

As the duelling progressed, Alfred watched his son with an ever keen eyed stare he did not foresee Beocca emerge from behind him with some awful news- he wishes not to hear now but he will have to, "Lord, that grubby Dane, Haesten, is here." Beocca informed him.

Rowena continued watching for as long as she could but with each second drifting away and his gaze holden to her she had began to teeter on the bridge of frustration and so when it had finally toppled and her annoyance overflown she turned on her heel and left the courtyard. Aelflaed saw this and rushed to follow after.

"Put the child on his arse." Aethelwold laughed.

Aelswith seethed, "It is not your place to speak."

Uhtred continued to fight with the Atheling, the sound of the wooden staffs clashing percolated through the air- the sound clamorous as with each hit Edward's need to prevail increased. With one final strike Uhtred had managed to get the prince on the ground as he tried to contain himself, using his foot Uhtred nudged Edward so his back hit the ground, he laid there breathless and flustered from his loss of victory.

Alfred rolled his eyes and Aethelwold snickered, "Oh bad luck, Edward." He mockingly teased.

"Uhtred we have a visitor, an old friend of yours." Alfred enlightened the man who in turn stepped back from Edward with confusion, mind fraught on figuring out who it could be.

Alfred turned on his back and left, Aelswith followed thereafter -with as much haste as her husband- Uhtred, though, he glanced down at a disgruntled Edward who sat up perched on his elbows.

"Sacrifices were made so you would live, boy." He informed, "From now on you practice only with a staff, you learn from being hit." He advised and Edward nodded his head, heeding to it, he then accepted Uhtred's hand to help him up. Now stood up from the ground Uhtred patted Edward's chest and dusted off his shoulder, "There is a warrior inside you, we will find him."

"Thank you, Uhtred." Edward chuckled

"You will do as the Lord Uhtred says, Prince Edward." Bishop Erkenwald announced, "He has your safety and welfare in mind."

"Bishop Erkenwald, Thank you."Uhtred laughed as he placed away the staffs and then advanced towards him.

"I trust your wife is well--"

"She is."

"Pretty girl, her name escapes me." The Bishop said.

"She is called Gisela, Lord, a pagan." Brother Godwin momentarily looked to the bishop before his stare fixed itself on Uhtred who had come to a stop before them, "She is once again with child, a boy." He glanced down and then just as quick his stare locked onto Uhtred once more- "Your child shall be a boy." He concluded.

"Brother Godwin has a gift, God-given." Bishop Erkenwald had made Uhtred almost instantly aware.

Uhtred sighed, "If you would excuse me, Lord." He stated before he took his leave to find the king so he may learn who this old friend happens to be.

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The light is dim, not so warm and comforting, as Lynette sat on the ground -on her knees- her hands clasped a crucifix yet her lips they stayed firmly locked in silence. Her mind bewildered for she has so many things to pray for, to show her gratitude for yet she feels the words escape her as if it were wrought on purpose, as if to shun her. It is quiet and solemn, something that should ease her, but she felt cold. The light clamoured its way in through a small window engraving constellations of evening stars across the hard flood, the smell of candle fire heavy and striking as it lingered about in the tense air.

Lynette with shaky hands -she deemed it a consequence of the chilled midwinter air- clasped themselves together. The crucifix between them as she leaned forward her lips parted and clouds of warm air escaped and drifted fading into the cool atmosphere. She glanced down and whispered prayers- every little piece she could remember she forced out of herself, as if she were squeezing to drain herself of all and any sanctity within her.

The faint glow of the candlelight filtered through and toward her, swathing over her features and illuminating them- she appeared saintly under the glimmer, the quintessence of faith.

The intimate silence veiled in a tranquil vagueness soothed Lynette- her prayer repeated in her mind like a loop over and over again as it consumed her entirely. She yearned and it is true, everything her mother could have been, she prays for it, she wishes for herself to live a life for her mother- one which should have been hers, could have been but never was. A tear unbound itself from her eye and streamed down her cheek, she made no effort to wipe it away- her tears were a sign of her prayer, her honesty.

"Why do you do that?" A timid voice broke the stillness and Lynette rushed to rid her skin of any trace of tears, she then turned and caught sight of Stiorra.

Lynette stood up, she brushed at her dress and then walked toward the young girl- "Do what?"

"This." Her hands formed into the exact statue Lynette had adorned a moment ago, "I saw you do it moons ago, and now again."

"As you have a deity to pray to, so do I." Lynette explained while a gentle smile arched onto her lips.

Stiorra's face contorted into a look of mischief and Lynette tilted her head, "What did you pray for?" Stiorra hushed as she leaned into Lynette.

Lynette laughed, amused, "I cannot tell you that."

She pouted, "Why, is it like a wish?"

"Almost..." Lynette observed the girl before her slouch in displeasure, "I can give you a hint."

Stiorra enthusiastically nodded her and Lynette knelt down so she could whisper into her ear, "I had prayed for a day where it would only snow so we could make snow angels and you would win against your brother in a snowball fight." Lynette then pulled back and watched as a huge and ever luminous smile enveloped Stiorra's lips, she nodded her head again with even more enthusiasm.

"I will pray for the same thing, and..." She leaned into Lynette, "I will pray that you will win against uncle Sihtric in a snowball fight."

Lynette laughed, her head fell back- she had not laughed this hard in a while and she silently thanked the young girl for it, "Oh I definitely will then so make sure to ask." She beamed.

Both girls, Lynette and Stiorra, amidst their conversation had not heard the soft sounds of booted feet emerge into the room until a deep voice spoke up, "Ask what?" They both looked up and Stiorra stepped back, "It is a secret." She quipped before she looked back to Lynette with a wink.

"Well that is not fair, I wish to be let into the secret- I promise I am good at keeping them." Sihtric informed with a sigh of feigned sadness.

"No, it is for auntie Lynette and I to know only." Stiorra rolled her eyes and Lynette nodded her head in agreement, "Yes, our dearest apologises."

Stiorra giggled as she turned to Lynette, "Come find me after and I will let you know what I asked." She whispered before she rushed out the room. Lynette shook her head in amusement as she stood up, once again she brushed at the fabric of her dress riding it of any specks of dirt.

Sihtric advanced towards her and tilted his head with narrowed eyes, "Wives keeping secrets from their husbands." He tsked.

"It is not unheard off." Lynette scoffed.

"Is it not?" He smirked, "So what you mean to say is, you have secrets."

"Perhaps I do or I don't- you will never know." She jabbed at his chest with her pointer finger as each word fell from her lips.

"Hm..." He slowly nodded his head, "I see."

Lynette patted his chest and then began to walk out of the room, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back- her chest crashed against his and he held her there against him with a grasp so firm and tender, "And what do I have to do, to get you to tell me these such secrets?" He breathed out.

"You can start of by letting me go." She gasped.

"No..." He shook his head, "I do not like that, anything else?" In turn he just pulled her in closer, if that was not possible- he made it so.

"I do not care for your likes or dislikes." She exhaled.

"You are mean.." He whispered, "No matter, I actually prefer it."

"Oh really?" She arched her brows, and bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

Sihtric raised his hand up and pulled her lip back, his finger traced the flesh and then he leaned in and placed a kiss atop her lips. Lynette melted into his hold and she almost instantly began to kiss him back. She forgot all about their conversation and simply tilted her head upward so she could deepen the kiss. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his hands wound themselves around her legs so he could raise her up, Lynette's legs then folded themselves around his waist and he held her to him. His fingers dug into her waist and he continued to relish in the kiss, one of her hands had taken to his hair and she tugged as he deepened the kiss this emitted a low whimper from Sihtric who then bit her lip, Lynette gasped and Sihtric took the chance to force his tongue into her mouth.

Lynette pulled back and placed a kiss upon his jaw before she shuffled herself from his hold, her feet planted themselves on the ground once again, "What is it we were speaking of?" Sihtric breathlessly whispered.

She narrowed her stare, "How much of an idiot you are." She laughed.

"Yes, an idiot for you." He jested back.

"You bit my lip." Lynette uttered.

"Did I?" He smirked, "You bite your lip all the time, I thought you would like it if I did it to you."

"Your reasoning makes no sense."

"It does and anyway I did not hear a definite refusal so I guess you did like it." He nudged her.

Lynette rolled her eyes and turned to leave, "I wish to speak with you." Sihtric said.

"What have we just been doing now, singing?" Lynette turned back, she chuckled at her jest but Sihtric did not so she formed her lips into a straight line and awaited for him to continue.

"Many Northmen have gathered under a new Lord, Bloodhair--" Lynette recoiled at the name, she wishes not to know of why he donned such a name, "He will raid, attack Winchester for sure,Uhtred is certain of this."

"Sigurd is his true name."

"I don't care for his true name." Lynette scowled.

Sihtric let out an abrupt laugh, "I am to leave before nightfall, to battle with him, Uhtred that is." He rushed out.

Lynette slowly nodded her head, she watched Sihtric squirm in nervousness before her and she leaned forward and grasped his hand, "You are a warrior Sihtric this is expected of you, why the nerves?" She spoke with a tone dipped in gentleness. "Unless you believe Valaena's words and think yourself to be a terrible warrior which I say to that, you are not!" Lynette reassured.

"I do not think myself to be that." He scoffed, "You are not angry?" He leaned into her.

"Why would I be?" And then she remembered the last time they had been parted for a while, a few weeks -moons at most- had contorted and taken the shape of three whole years in which Lynette had painfully endured sorrow like never before, unknown to her. But she did not fear it now, this was bound to happen at some point, it is different now she knows this and that is why she is content. She will worry for his wellbeing -that is inevitable- but it feels different this time. "I had said it before, you are a warrior this is expected of you- just be safe and come back to me." She whispered and then she raised his hand up and placed a kiss upon his knuckles.

He nodded his head, a look of adoration draped his mismatched irises and he felt his worry subside and for a moments time it had drifted away from its ever unyielding hold on him, it had yielded -though- to her words, her voice. He watched as her lips continue to press kisses upon his hand and then she leaned up and placed one on his cheek another on his jaw and then his lips all the while the grasp she had on his hand never withered.

"If you continue this, I will not leave."

"I do not think Uhtred will take kindly to that." Lynette jested as she pulled back.

"That he will not." Sihtric nodded his head as he laughed.

"In all seriousness, fight well and come back." Lynette demanded, she squeezed his hand which was now intertwined with hers.

He leaned into her side, "You will not rid of me that easily."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Nightfall had slipped upon them, the forgotten autumnal eve brought with it stronger winds among the vivid passing smells of the day gone by. Lynette had ignited the fire, adding more wood to the blazing inferno in hopes it would burn with a greater ferocity, the nights always seemed to be colder. Sihtric had left hours ago and since then a sunken feeling of concern and worry had mixed itself into the depths of her stomach comfortably situating itself there- she will not known contentment until he is back, though she knows he will be well. Lynette had made sure to tell Uhtred, make it known to him that if anything were to happen to her Husband he will bare the brunt of her wrath.

She prayed for all of their safe return.

Lynette was ever grateful, the comfort and serenity she had prayed for while enduring misery and affliction at a height she wishes to never familiarise herself with again had finally come to her, bestowed upon her and she now prays for something not too entirely different. She wishes for these calm moments to remain almost akin to a painting -she will illustrate it herself- with the stokes of a brush she will draw this so it will linger as a carving embedded and halted in time. Her choked sobs of pain had now become sobs of disbelief, at night she would allow herself to cry to feel her reality and realise it is true, she is here. And now she is married, wed, to someone she cherishes and who adores her infinitely so, is this her bliss, her glimpse at true happiness for all she had endured, this is what it had lead to?

She stood up from before the fire in the room, Stiorra was asleep on the small chaise across from the inferno- the heat warming the shivers that had previously covered her skin. Dahlia stood beside Gisela as they conversed and Lynette found herself smiling at the sight, the auburn-haired lady had slowly -with time- began to ease up. As she turned her head felt nauseous much like she had done so earlier, much like how she had felt for the past week and then she gasped before she hurried toward the basin, head tilted down she emptied the contents of her stomach.

Lynette could feel someone wrap their hand around her hair pulling it back from her face, she felt the sudden rush of air chill upon her skin as she continued to vomit. With a groan she stood back up and Dahlia let go of her hair, the Lady Gisela passed her a wet cloth and a glass of water.

Her hand reached up and she rubbed at her chest, her heart, the pain was discomforting- so unpleasant and unsettling.

"Drink some water, Lynette." Dahlia whispered.

Lynette took a sip of the water but then refused to drink the rest for the more she drank the more nauseous she felt. "I have never felt like this before..." Lynette exhaled, "I am sure it is the cold air, I have spent much too many hours outside."

Gisela furrowed her brows and then looked back to Lynette, "How many times this past week has this occurred?" Dahlia looked to her and then her eyes flickered, a knowing look glazed over her irises and her face formed into an expression of startlement.

"Just this past week, a few days. I tend to feel like this more so in the morning- I have been rudely awoken because of it." Lynette stressed.

Gisela smiled expressively, "It is not the cold air."

"I do not, um, I don't quite understand." Lynette breathed out her voice had fallen into a hush, a stutter of worry therein as she tightened her grasp on the cup in her hold.

Dahlia reached forward and took the cup from her before she grabbed her hands, "Oh my darling girl..." She murmured, cadence tender and mellow, touch soft and stare soothing.

"What is it?" Lynette snapped out in a hurry, her impatience weighing down on her like a hefty boulder, she had began to feel deathly suffocated.

"You are with child, Lynette."

Dahlia's words echoed, the words ringed and thumped against her yet Lynette stood ever still- rigid and stiff. She shook her head, slow and unnoticeable as her chest heaved up and down, she tried to force herself to breathe but it felt like her body was doing the complete opposite- the words still resounded and she blinked as if she were trying to rid herself of them.

In all the blissfulness that came with being newlywed Lynette had not even realised she had missed her bloods.

She could hear the bellow of the fire, though, it cackled, tauntingly.

_________________

A/N: Another chapter WHOOP! lets goooo, so Lynette's pregnant.....and not taking it well lol she is about to have a mid-life crisis (miss girlie is like almost 24...I think oops)

Sihtric is so in looooveeee with her, I need me a Sihtric please!!!!!

Also from this point on I will (maybe) be making slight changes to the season three plot.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter.

Do not forget to comment and vote, thank you for reading 🫶