Communion of Darkness & Light » Sigtryggr || The Last Kingdom

The Sin of Pride

Whether the girl was ugly, infirm, or even old, it didn't matter. If she proved infertile, it didn't matter. That was why he had brought Leif with him from Irland. Leif, another grandson of Ivar the Boneless, was the best of his kin. Gregarious, comfortable in any company, and an honorable warrior, Leif had been blessed with four sons of two different women. Four heirs to any kingdom that Sigtryggr was able to build.

Perhaps it would be best if he never had any children. Sigtryggr saw how King Edward had been crippled by the kidnapping of his own heirs. Women and children made a leader weak. Sigtryggr had no one.

Well, until that evening. 

In the chaos of the feast, his betrothed gazed into his face for the first time then promptly fainted. It shocked him as it did her father. She didn't seem weak. When he had seen her for the first time in the courtyard earlier that day, she was flushed with excitement at meeting the Christian monk Osferth, one of Uhtred of Bebbanburg's many interesting allies. Sigtryggr had been intrigued to see papers and scrolls strewn over the grass around her. It was encouraging that the maiden appeared interested in something other than prayer and producing children.

That evening, from a private corner of the feasting hall, he watched her move across the room as though she were sleeping awake. In the dim light of the torches, she was pale as death. Perhaps she had grown sick with the fever.

After she had collapsed into his arms, Sigtryggr impulsively pressed a scarred hand to her forehead. Her skin was cool and dry. It was not the sickness that had ravaged the countryside upon his arrival. The daughter of Guthrum called Aethelstan was only a weak blooded Saxon woman like all the rest.

Hooking an arm under her knees, he lifted her limp body. "Can someone show me to her rooms?" 

Aethelstan blinked up in surprise at Sigtryggr's unconcerned tone. "Y-yes, this way."

Sigtryggr's keen eye caught a twinge of sadness around the old Dane's mouth. The man felt guilty, but not for Sigtryggr's sake. Aethelstan's attention was only on his daughter. Perhaps he had spoken truth, that this girl in his arms was her father's true treasure.

A handmaid, wringing her hands and glaring at him with suspicious blue eyes, followed close behind as they left the feasting hall. Aelfwynn stirred, pressing herself against his chest. Her hand closed around the Thor's hammer hanging from around his neck. 

"Over here, my lord." The handmaid directed him over to the bed angled by a roaring fireplace.

He deposited her onto the linen sheets. She released his necklace, her hand moving to her own breast and gripping the cross of the nailed god that she wore. A matching crucifix hanging on the wall. The agonized face of the man they called Jesus looked down over her. The veil had fallen from her head, her braided crown of rich brown hair sagging around her ears. Even in her stupor, eyes closed to the world, her brow was wrinkled with concern.

"She is not ill," he said to his future father-in-law.

"This is my fault," Aethelstan muttered, running an agitated hand through his graying beard. "I should have been more candid... she's a very intelligent girl. She will soon come to understand the situation."

"Perhaps," Sigtryggr murmured, gazing back at the bed. "I am not a cruel man, Guthrum-"

"Aethelstan," the former heathen corrected firmly as they walked out into the dimly lit corridor.

Sigtryggr offered a thin smile. "Yes, of course. My apologies."

The Christian gave the pagan an appraising glance. Aethelstan knew that Sigtryggr had purposefully made mention of his past identity. And Sigtryggr was glad to see that his meaning was not lost on him.

"I will treat your daughter honorably, I promise you that," Sigtryggr said, crossing his arms over his chest. Uncomfortably, he could still sense the warmth of her body against his skin. "Your daughter was raised with certain sensibilities, I trust? Concerning your faith and how Saxons view marriage?"

"It is very different from Dane ways. She has never been alone with a man that wasn't related to her or a celibate monk. Certainly not one..."

"One like myself?"

"Definitely not."

"But she was prepared for a Christian marriage?"

Aethelstan grimaced. "I fear I indulged her too much as a child. You see, she was my only daughter. I never had sisters. I raised her how I saw fit. She portrayed an aptitude for books and letters, more so than her brothers. I was so proud that I allowed her to throw herself into her studies. She has believed for years that she was bound for a convent, one called Bollhill where the sisters have their own library like a monastery."

"She is dedicated in her faith?"

"Very."

"Yet an intellectual."

"Yes."

Sigtryggr smirked. "Aethelstan, correct me if I'm mistaken, but isn't pride one of your great sins in the Christian faith?"

Aethelstan sniffed, squaring his shoulders. "If you are chastising me-"

"No, no, nothing of the sort," Sigtryggr interrupted gently, moving towards a window overlooking the moonlit drenched courtyard below. He wondered how similar the daughter would be to her father. "She never wished to marry?"

"Never once expressed an interest."

"Or for children?"

Aethelstan reddened. "Not a mention."

Sigtryggr sighed. "It seems she and I are both in a situation that we never thought we'd face. But perhaps I can appeal to the better part of her nature. May I speak with her alone sometime? On my honor as a grandson of Ivar the Boneless, I will treat her with the utmost respect."

A change came over Aethelstan's face, one of grave consideration. He was a man of deep thought, just like Sigtryggr. Though their faiths were different, Sigtryggr saw in the old man much of himself. Much of his grandfather, if he was being honest.

"You may. You will go through with the marriage?"

"At the month's end, I will marry your daughter. It is a means to an end, a chance at peace as you said. And one of the conditions approved by your King Edward and I. I gain the kingdom of Eoferwic by taking the hand of a Christian in marriage. And so I shall." Sigtryggr gave a bemused shrug, the corner of his generous mouth lifting. "And in a Christian ceremony, if only to please my betrothed."

Aethelstan released a sigh of relief. "Very well. I trust that she will come around before that time."

Clapping a hand on Aethelstan's shoulder, Sigtryggr moved past him. "We shall see. We shall see."  

****  

He did not see the girl the next day, nor for the following three days. When he asked her father of her whereabouts, Aethelstan admitted that she had been praying and fasting in the chapel. He gave Sigtryggr permission to interupt her in the sanctuary, but Sigtryggr declined. 

He would never force himself on the girl, even if only to talk. He would wait patiently like any hunter. She would come to him, either by her own design or inevitability of fate. And he was fated for the lands of Eoferwic, even if it meant allowing his wife to live as a nun in their own home. That was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it came to it.