𝕺𝐅 𝕾𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝕬𝐍𝐃 𝕾𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐄
"For she is
The Lady of Death.
To love her
Is to fight
For every breath."
- a song of storm and siege
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦
𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐-𝟓
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐎𝐂
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
𝕿HE KING'S HALL AT WINCHESTER WAS DECORATED WITH COUNTLESS COLORS. Eldrid was led through the hallways by the priest who, she'd learned because of the many people greeting him, was called Father Beocca. As she walked both paintings and tapestries kept greeting her around every corner. They depicted the stories of wars, of a god hanging from a cross and of men with circles surrounding their heads while the common folk kneeled for them.
Even as her eyes traced the intricate lines of the paintings, Eldrid stayed aware of the route they had taken so far, always prepared for a fight. Especially because she'd been forced to leave her weapons at the door. She respected the reason but still wasn't very fond of having to separate with her beloved sword. Walking through the castle without it felt like an itch she couldn't scratch. But it wasn't like she had any other choice than to obey.
Beocca led her into a large hall, where he finally came to a halt. "Wait here, king Alfred shall be here shortly."
She nodded at him and watched as he left through a door on the opposite side of the room.
With a sigh her eyes turned back to look at the many paintings. Once again, she found herself torn between curiosity and loathing for the Saxons and their strange ways. She couldn't understand worshiping a god who allowed himself to be killed by humans. Nor could she understand how people could gain an almost god-like status themselves by becoming a saint.
Yet despite her disgust, there was one painting in particular that caught her attention. Many soldiers were gathered upon a hill, their spears raised behind their king, who was seated upon a white horse. They were facing a shield wall with many angry Danes cowering behind it. The very sight of it made her blood boil. Her people would never cower during battle. Yet that wasn't what had drawn her attention about it.
