OF MONSTERS AND FLOWERS

TW: Mentions of Violence.
And Suicide.
Reader discretion is advised please do not read this if you will be affected and
know that your feelings always matter <33

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The sewing needle worked itself through the thick piece of clothing stitching it back together perfectly. Little Lynette's hands shook as she sat in the damp corner of the room the ceiling was dripping water and it seemed like the wood was growing mouldy. As precisely as she could with wobbly hands she tried to stitch the cloak back to its former glory it appeared to be getting there even though it had taken her quite some time.

Silver-fades of clouds covered the sky and no more than a second passed by before rainfall ascended down frantically. The sound is soothing to Lynette she always felt content upon hearing the pitter-patter of rain hitting the ground, if she closed her eyes long enough she could imagine it as a heartbeat throbbing against a chest.

"Mother." Lynette whispered her head tilted upwards to look at Elodie, deep in her prayers she did not respond and to Lynette it looked like she had ignored her so she repeated once more rather impatiently, "Mother."

Elodie does not respond instead she continued to pray her hands clutched the wooden crucifix with such strength that the skin on the knuckles of her hands turned white, ghostly white.

With defeat and slight confusion the brunette blue eyed girl continued the task at hand.

The air around them began to become thick with a smell that attacked their lungs Lynette coughed her chest heaving but Elodie stayed true on her path her lips now moving as whispers of incoherent words filter out. Lynette sighed leaning back against the wall she had hoped her mother would look to her but it seemed as if prayer was far too consuming.

Lynette had never known a person more devoted than her mother to prayer at first glance you could see that she held religion close to her with the cross hanging gleefully around her neck pattering against her chest with every step she took and when she got down on her knees to pray her two hands clasped together firmly as lips utter words of faith and Lynette had taken exactly to that.

God would protect Mother and I, she would repeat and when she knelt down beside her mother Lynette would whisper the same thing oh lord protect us. Lynette was only repeating what she had heard her mother plea but deep down in her tiny heart she somehow knew what it meant. When the tears would rush down her mother's cheeks unstoppable and determined in their tracks as Elodie held back a gut wrenching scream Lynette could tell and she knew that some of it was because of her, she had a feeling.

Had she been born a son then perhaps her father may have acknowledged her regardless of the fact that she is a bastard. He would have loved her mother for giving him a son it is because she is a daughter that he threw Elodie aside, it was her fault- Lynette thought she should have been a son and a boy.

Her father had paid no mind to Lynette not even when Elodie lay writhing in pain on the birthing bed, blood coated the pale skin of her legs and her jaw wide to allow screams of anguish to escape. Not when Elodie had refused to hold Lynette and Tayte had held her instead. Not even when the days turned into months and those months into a year when finally Elodie had held her daughter, her child, in her hands with a detachment so distant it was unfamiliar for a mother to possess.

Lynette, herself, was no stranger to the matter she knew exactly who her father is, a rotten man.

Even at the young age of two and ten years Lynette worked her way through the fortress, Bebbanburg, as if she were a shadow a mere penumbra almost illuminated for some to see but not enough for the important people such as her father. Her mother, Elodie served the castle as a maid working in the kitchens and as a seamstress as she still does now. With the days passing by the woman had started to become more and more reserved her mind elsewhere.

The further she strayed the more she seemed incurable to Lynette as if her words did not matter as they had done so- or perhaps they never did only falling onto to deaf ears that wished to hear nothing.

The needle pierced through the clothing as she worked her nimble hands.

"Stay here Lynette." Elodie ordered placing the book down in front of her, the cross hanging from her neck against her chest as she stood tall from her previous position. Her white dress muddied at the end, it trailed behind her as she walked towards the door.

Lynette felt as if something was amiss she stood also, "Where are you going?" She asked.

Elodie sighed, "Nowhere I just remembered something I will be back soon." She spoke tiredly she then briefly glanced at Lynette before she rushed out the door.

The room felt awfully quiet now it was not much louder before but the comfort of having her mother beside her in prayer was pleasing and now the silence was almost unbearable. 

Lynette tried, she tried so hard, but about five seconds later she could not just sit and so she stood with determination to follow after her mother. Placing the cloak and needle down she hurried toward the door just as her hand went to turn the knob of the old wooden door she heard an angered voice, a recognisable voice causing her to step back in worry.

"And what of that useless boy, of Osbert?" Aelfric stressed.

Lynette was curious even though she knew it would be foolish of her to open the door she pushed the thought back and slightly opened the door enough for her to catch sight of her father.

His jaw was clenched and his hands fisted in a manner to illustrate his frustration.

A broader man with a whitening beard and protruding ale belly stood in front of him. Lynette could see from the side that this is Scallion, Alefric's right hand man, she very much disliked him. Her father would ignore her but Scallion, no he did not he did the exact opposite if by any chance Lynette had wandered in-front of his gaze she would find that his would automatically latch onto her as if he was observing her, making sure she did not step out of line and that she obeyed- they were unfaltering.

"I do not know, the fire was said to be fierce Lord it is hoped that he is dead." Scallion answered.

Aelfric exhaled a vein popped out on his forehead, "I do not need fucking hopes I need an answer I need a body, ash, something." He snapped. "I will not have him threatening my position again."

Who? Lynette thought Osbert? Who was that?

"You will leave and find out for me Scallion, if he is not dead kill him!" Aelfric demanded aggressively.

"And what of Kjartan Lord?" Scallion whispered, clearly not doing a good job since Lynette heard the name perfectly well.

Aelfric rubbed his head, "Nothing to worry about he will not threaten us." He replied.

Lynette impatiently awaited for the men to scurry off she hated seeing her father as soon as they were out of sight she raced out from behind the door and rushed towards the direction she presumed her mother had went.

The air outside was colder almost piercingly so and it nipped at her skin the closer she got to the ramparts of the fortress the more harsher the air got, each crevice of her body filled with a sense of dread she did not understand- as if her body knew before her.

Brown wisps of hair caught Lynette's eyes as she stood halted by the door her mother's body fell and then disappeared from eyesight behind the wall falling down, she did not hear a thud or perhaps there was and she just did not want to believe it- the sound of rushing water, the ocean below crashed against the rocks so loud, so terrifying and so cruel.

In all the horror it was expected for anyone to scream or wail yet Lynette stood still as a statue latched to the wall. Without even noticing Lynette's hands had fisted together just as her mother's would do so in prayer. She prayed it was a dream, she continuously pinched herself and picked at the skin surrounding her nails as she had always done to calm herself yet to no avail, the air only became harsher much too unfriendly in its path yet among the bitterness of the eventide dusk Lynette could feel her body overcome with trails of sweat.

Mother, she had defeatedly whispered.

"What are you doing here child?" A frantic elderly voice came "Come on, hurry to the kitchens now!" She ushered a hand gripped her upper arm and took her down the darkened corridors. Lynette's eyes stayed locked onto the rampart for as long as they could be as if she was hoping, praying, her mother would appear drenched in waves of water but safe.

Lynette did not realise her face was overcome with tears, not even the salty taste that fell upon her lips was detected by her until the woman, who she recognised to be Tayte, pushed a towel gently into her face she daintily dabbed away her tear stained cheeks.

Lynette wondered if she had a right to be crying as such Elodie barely acknowledged Lynette and the girl did not fault her mother for that, not even once.

Her chest heaved and she felt herself become caged an unearthly strange sensation filtered around her like chains as if to clasp her, she did not understand this feeling. Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of realisation seeped in between the cracks. There was no use for Tayte to keep dabbing at her face for Lynette just felt tears silently continue to escape her eyes and so she kindly placed the towel in her hand. And then suddenly almost as if it was awaiting the feeling of panic pounced onto her tauntingly, so cruel and wicked. Lynette felt a sob rip through and Tayte beside her grabbed Lynette and tugged her into her side to muffle her cries, she kept sobbing and crying, sobbing and crying, her chest heavy and her body numb.

Elodie, as much as she tried, was the only person in this hellish place Lynette felt contentment with it matter nothing to Lynette that Elodie paid her no mind for she was still there she till sat with her and sometimes talked to her and that enough but now all she felt was anxiousness, fear and sorrow.

Two and Ten is such a young age yet Lynette felt as if she had experienced as much pain in her short years as the elderly woman beside her.

"What is going to happen to my mother?" Lynette whispered.

"God is merciful child, do not worry your mother is much happier now." Tayte answered kindly.

Lynette was perplexed one part of her felt anger brew at the mention of God and the other felt calmness it was peculiar but this once the anger conquered and the calmness yielded. Lynette pushed back ferociously wiping away her tears, "If God was merciful he would not take away my mother like that?" She snapped.

"We must not say things like that, it is talk of the devil." The woman ordered.

"No you must answer me, why has God taken away my protector?" Lynette fired back.

"Elodie was a sweet girl as are you Lynette she was god fearing and you will be too." The woman, Tayte, gently responded.

"And if I am not?" Lynette hushed. "How can he expect me to be when he has done such a thing." Lynette's voice broke as she forced out the words.

Tayte patted Lynette's head gently, "God is your protector he will guide you and well we all must die Lynette, it appears as if Elodie's time had come to an end." Tayte grabbed Lynette's hand "All you must know is that she is far more fairer now and you should continue to pray for her."

Lynette sat straight the words spoken by Tayte just further confused her, if God had not abandoned her mother then why did she die in a sin and not a virtue? All the years of kneeling on the hard ground purple bruises scattering pale skin as her lips relentlessly spoke prayers to the point the skin of her lips chapped, then why did she die in such a way that may have damned her to hell?

Tayte placed a wooden crucifix around Lynette's neck letting it hang in front of her chest Lynette looked down at it.

Feeling her eyes well up with tears Lynette did not fight it, she simply cried.

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The softly hallowed winds swept across Lynette's face as she was dragged rather harshly through Bebbanburg the floor was muddier today for some odd reason and then she remembered how it had rained yesterday. Trying to sleep last night was an exhausting task despite the fact her eyes were heavy as if they were being weighed down she could not let herself rest and it was affecting her greatly now. Her limbs were ponderous with fatigue and her chest tight from lethargy.

As she was being dragged by a tall built man her feet trampled over each other and she knocked into his back the man grunted turning around to glare at her he only tightened his hold on her upper arm which caused her immense discomfort but she dare not voice it.

Lynette used her free arm her hand rising up to take a hold of her necklace, the crucifix.

As she neared a room the smell of ale lingered in the air disgustingly it swarmed around her and suffocated her nose. Men flooded the area each to their own as shouts of conversations carried.

"Hurry up!" The man's gruff voice demanded.

Lynette was taken aback hearing his aggravated tone, she felt terror but pushed it down.

A rough hand pushed her inside the room Lynette slightly stumbled but composed herself shying away to the back wall. Her eyes trained to the ground, she breathed in and then out, in and out, in and out and it went on as her breaths got faster with each exhale. Her heart palpitated against her chest, mouth drying up as she could smell the smell of ale much stronger in the room mixed with sweat her stomach churned.

"Nothing was left of it, that is what is being said Lord." A man's voice chuckled mockingly.

Another voice spoke, "Fighting like a madman Ragnar was." A loud laugh shook the room. "Taken by fire."

"And of the servant boy?" Aelfric finally spoke.

The laughing quietened down, "Nothing to worry there Lord your man will tell you he is dead!"

"And of your agreement?" The other one quipped. Lynette looked up her eyes wandering the room. It was dimly lit by candle fire as two men sat together across from Aelfric who had two guards stood behind him. Aelfric's eyes moved over barely glancing at Lynette he nodded at the man behind her who grabbed her arm and dragged her forward, Lynette gasped.

Aelfric briefly looked upon Lynette who stood concerned and frightened, she did not like the room nor the smell of it neither the men in it.

"You shall have everything once I have confirmation of his death." Aelfric proclaimed raising his chalice to his lips.

The men sat across from Aelfric but to the left of Lynette turned to look at her one of them scoffed "What use will this tiny thing be to us, to Kjartan?" He inquired.

"We were promised working women to serve us at Dunholme." The bearded one snapped.

"You shall have the rest after your end of the agreement is accounted for." Aelfric responded monotonously "And she will learn to be of use."

The room around Lynette began to become smaller or was it her chest caving in on her she did not care for her heart rate rapidly increased as she slowly but surely realised they are speaking of her. Lynette begged silently for Aelfric to look at her once, to properly look upon her to realise that he does not need to be so heartless that he can learn to acknowledge her or that she can be of use here, in Bebbanburg, where Tayte is. Her hand encased itself around the crucifix much tighter as she closed her eyes, pleading to the heavens to God.

A rotten man and Lynette only truly knew now in this moment when his eyes would not lock on her, not even an ounce of acknowledgment, that the rot is to the core.

A horn blows vociferously.

"Lord!" A guard rushed inside the room the door slamming open harshly a vibrating crashing sound echoed in the room from the intensity. "The ramparts." He panted out.

Aelfric stands and hurries out the room, forcefully bearing an expression of frustration on his features, footsteps belligerent. The man behind her grabbed her upper arm once again however it was much lighter this time and followed after the two Danes that had taken it upon themselves to leave with Aelfric.

Reaching the rampart she stood beside the man who did not let go of her arm only loosening his hold as his gaze stay locked on the front. Trees stood to the far end of the vastly open field, their leaves like specks Lynette's eyes caught a hold of two horses riding ferociously fast towards the fortress she exhaled and not knowing her movement stepped forward to get a better look, instead she tripped and the man to her side looked down with a glare.

"Stand still." He demanded whispering yet his tone was just as vicious had he been shouting the order.

"Is it Scallion?" Aelfric inquired glancing out.

"No my Lord, he looks like a Dane." The guard answered and Aelfric glanced towards the danes beside him "Could be one of Kjartan's men, do you recognise him?" Aelfric raised his brows questioning them.

Both danes shook there heads "No other one of us was to come here." The bearded one answered.

The horse slowed down in-front of the gate and Lynette leaned in closer this time ensuring that she does not trip and kept herself as silent as a lamb.

Aelfric and the two danes moved closer staring perplexed out at the white horse a man in heaps of fur clothing sat atop the animal. Then the hood dropped and the man was revealed, his hair tied back messily, hair covered much of his chin, a scar  beside one of his eyebrows and a mischievous yet devious smirk lay on his lips.

Lynette's father hardened his stance, taller, and his hands fisted. She did not speak up remaining as silent as possible almost as if she was holding her breath under water not even her breathing could be detected but the gnawing curiosity to know who this person is and why he has such an affect on Aelfric nagged at her.

A gasp passed by her lips when the unknown man held up something devilishly cruel, a head cut from the body grasped in his hold. Raising his arm higher he now held the head, which Lynette recognised to be Scallion, above his own head that which is where it belongs on his own body. Her eyes stay widened to a gargantuan size and her breathing shallow, she was scared there was no denying this. In all her young years of only twelve Lynette had never seen a beheaded head and she wishes to never see such a hellish sight again.

All eyes were firmly locked on the mysterious man. Lynette wanted to, so desperately, look away from the horror but just as she could not with Elodie she felt the same tug towards this sight only this time there is a death to see.

"I am Uhtred of Bebbanburgh and I shall take back what is mine!" He shouted, tone filled in a mix of detestation and determination.

Aelfric's jaw clenched his hands now firmly and tightly fisted knuckles turning ghostly white Lynette noticed before she glanced back. Her father gripped the wood of the ramparts his head falling in irritation.

"Bebbanburgh is mine!" The man, who Lynette came to know to be called Uhtred, declared energetically a twinkle of roguery and fury in his eyes. Before turning around he threw Scallion's head on to the ground not caring much for it and Lynette then suddenly remembered.

You will leave and find out for me Scallion, If he is not dead then Kill him!

Her father's agitated voice rung in the back of her mind. Could this be Osbert? but he calls himself Uhtred. Lynette glanced at the head once again, Scallion had failed.

"Horses!" Aelfric shouted.

Only seconds after a few horses left the fortress rushing after Uhtred.

Aelfric looked to the two Danes with rage in his deadly stare, "He is alive." He stressed "I gave you silver and men to avenge your Lord and to kill the fucking servant boy!" His voice a lethal octave as if the mere tone was harming his throat because of the ferocity of it.

The bearded Dane stepped forward, "He will be dealt with." He seethed out.

As a dainty feather floating in the harsh winds that surround it Lynette stood as quiet as ever.

Aelfric scoffed "Dealt with?" He repeated "Like you have done so now."

"He will be dead Lord." The other Dane vexed.

Aelfric wanted to unleash his anger in the most brutal of ways he hated his deceased useless older brother naming a mere child heir to Bebbanburg instead of him and now he did not want him dead but rather a plaything to torment and inflict pain upon as given the chance he may have done so to his brother.

"Leave go!" Aelfric demanded "And see to it that he is dead."

The Danes looked to Lynette and she stepped back taking tiny steps as her eyes stay latched onto the frightening looking men afraid that they would lunge at her. Aelfric followed their eyesight "He is not dead." He repeated again.

"We must take something to Kjartan Lord." The Dane responded.

"You want payment when the arrangement has not been met?" Aelfric scoffed.

"Think of it as a down payment." The taller Dane added in.

"Another one?" Aelfric glared.

The Danes remained silent and Aelfric exhaled not caring much for the conversation his mind was fraught on the thought of Uhtred. "Take the girl I do not care but if he is not dead there will be no more payment." Aelfric spoke the last six words harshly and slowly.

Dread percolated through her as she fixated on his words, take the girl I do not care, her body felt dizzy and her stomach deep, empty and hollow. Her feet were frozen to the ground she wanted to move, to run and escape yet something was holding her stuck to the ground chained, as she suspects she will be with actual chains now that she has been given away. Empty was her mind, where usually she would have a storm of thoughts it was all desolate.

The bearded Dane approached her but before he could grab her she turned to look at Aelfric desperate and afraid, "Father please!" She pleaded tearfully.

But he gave her no attention, no mind at all.

The Danes looked to Aelfric with confusion, why would he be giving away his own flesh and blood his daughter?

Lynette gulped down her cry forcing back tears, she knew that Aelfric would do nothing yet she had tried with broken hope yearning for him to piece it together and finally see her for all she can be. He did not.

The Danes did not care turning to Lynette the bearded Dane spoke tauntingly "Come with us quietly girl or well, you do not want to know the consequences." And she understood perfectly well there was no sane reason for her to lash out, to scream, to wail for Aelfric does not care then there is no one here that can save her. Her hands gripped her crucifix she knew where it was impeccably aligned in the middle of her chest and silently prayed her lips not moving yet the words were clear as the morning light in her mind.

As Lynette followed after the men in defeat she did not look to Alefric she had given up on that pointless confidence that he would somehow change, like it was previously established the rot is to the core.

Tayte caught sight of the young girl and she frantically approached them her eyes frenziedly searching the grounds before she saw Aelfric, the Lord of Bebbanburgh, the false lord.

"Please Lord do not do this, let her stay I shall care for her." Tayte pleaded as she grabbed Lynette's arm the taller Dane frustrated and angered stopped in his tracks turning to look at Tayte with a glare he aggressively pushed her "Keep back." His tone dipped in lethality. Tayte let out a pained gasp upon her back meeting a harsh wood and Lynette wanted to run to her but in fear more so for the elderly woman she did not.

Aelfric was completely consumed by the thought of eradicating Uhtred he retreated back into the warm walls of the fortress.

Lynette was placed upon the horse of the taller Dane as he took a seat behind her she wanted to place a distance between them but she could not and so she sat uncomfortable and frightened.

"Not a word out of you." He whispered into her ear with hostility.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, there was no cries or heaving of the chest she was quiet as the Dane had demanded and the horse carried on riding quickly and rapidly.

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It was loud. The room was overcome with cheers of joy and shouts of triumph.

Dunholm, she was here and Lynette already despised it.

The very same smell she tried so fatiguingly back at Bebbanburg to escape was rampant here, the overbearingly revolting smell of ale mixed with the sweat of fighting and celebrating men it was all too much she could almost throw up but there was nothing in her stomach to release. Lynette was not invisible to knowing the stares she got from men as she sat in the corner of the wide hall her knees tucked up to her chest and her head resting on them, she liked to imagine she was in that same room sewing as her mother prayed.

Lynette's eyes caught sight of a woman sat on a man's lap he was holding her neck rather aggressively and Lynette hated the sight so she turned away but the image of it flashed before again only now it was a different man with a different woman except his hand was in her hair oppressively, she could not move. Lynette looked down at the floor.

"And who do we have here?" A taunting voice came as black booted feet stood before her.

Lynette kept looking down, her hand clutching the crucifix.

The man scoffed "I am speaking with you." His words stern.

Lynette was afraid and that clouded her thoughts she did not have any except the word afraid, afraid, afraid, afraid, afraid and so it went on.

He knelt down with a fisted hand beside him the other grabbed her chin pulling her to look up, "You must be that pig of Bebbanburg's daughter." The man laughed mockingly.

Lynette stayed silent. Bastard Daughter she thought now.

His hand left her chin his eyes now trained on Lynette's fisted one, the one encasing her crucifix, he mercilessly using his strength moved apart her hand Lynette gasped from the pain. The Dane's eyes landed on the wooden crucifix and he scoffed laughing afterwards.

"That will not protect you." He snapped grabbing the crucifix he harshly tugged it from her neck breaking the necklace, it was old and doddering making it easy for it to snap under pressure the wooden crucifix although was strong.

Lynette fought back tears, I will not cry she thought. Her eyes moved from the ale smelling nauseating Dane to scan the room. In the corner aside to her, the right, there stood a boy not much older than her watching Lynette be tormented by this odious man. The man followed her eyesight.

"Sihtric!" He called and the boy stood taller "Run along and get some more ale." He demanded and the boy glanced quickly at Lynette before rushing off.

The Dane looked back at Lynette with a smirk, demoniacal, he leaned in closer his grotty breath hitting her face "I will take care of this for you." He informed clasping the crucifix in his hand he stood up stumbling slightly before walking off.

Lynette saw a tear drop onto the floor only then she noticed that she is crying an accumulated ocean of brine seeping from her eyes. She felt herself beg for respite yet she could not stop the tears, the tears of fear and isolation. Lynette was homesick for a place that never considered itself a home to her. She missed her mother, she missed Tayte but she missed her mother more, she did not believe even now that Elodie would leave her like this in a manner so sinful- it is a lie and a deception and once she finds her way back to Bebbanburg she knows Elodie will be there, she must be.

Moments pass Lynette stayed sat like a wooden doll, still and muted, then suddenly she saw the crucifix it dropped into her lap and then she looked up confused and slightly taken aback. It was the boy. He looked at her awkwardly avoiding her eyesight every now and then, Lynette looked down to her lap and she grabbed the crucifix holding it tightly hidden in her palm.

"I am Sihtric." The boy finally spoke.

Lynette looked to him silent for a moment "How did you get it back?" She spoke,  her voice was croaky and very hushed for she had not spoken for the days she was on the horse only having arrived to Dunholme a mere two hours ago.

"It was easy Harald gets drunk very quickly." Sihtic replied.

Lynette nodded her head she bit her lip before speaking "Thank you."

Sihtric watched the girl her nails around her fingers were red and sore he had observed her before picking at the skin around there but now one hand was clutching the crucifix. Sihtric did not understand the meaning of the wooden thing she held so dear to her what it means and why she looked hopeless, lost and vacant without it? But most of all he wanted to know her name.

"And your name is?" Sihtric asked quietly.

Lynette slowly glanced back up thinking for a moments time, "I am Lynette." She answered.

A soft friendly smile accompanied by a short nod was the response Sihtric gave "It is a nice name." He awkwardly said.

Lynette wanted to smile for she did find him funny and kind but she just could not muster up the strength to do so, "Thank you I like your name as well." She uttered amiably.

Sihtric skimmed the room the men were all slowly becoming intoxicated this victory seems to be a great and immense one he turned to Lynette "Perhaps tomorrow I could show you around here." He offered.

Lynette nodded her head "I hope they will let me." She whispered.

"They will." Sihtric retorted back quickly.

Thereafter Lynette and Sihtric were silent up until the point he was ushered away and then she was alone but she felt a miniscule piece of her fear chip away from that small conversation with Sihtric she was undoubtedly still tremendously scared but she was glad that there is him, a boy who does not seem so frightening.

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A/N: Heyyy the prologue is up! I hope you enjoyed reading this I already love Lynette so much and of course her and Sihtric.

Thank you so much for reading, do not forget to comment and vote 🫶