𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ.

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 —
ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ.
ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏɴᴇ — ᴏᴍᴇɴꜱ

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

THE DUSTY SMELL
of hay straw filled her nose, wet and sodden from rain, slowly rotting away as it clumped together. Twigs of hay splintered into the skin of her hands as she held a bundle in her palm, dragging it down the mares back, brushing away the dirt.

"You're certain you want to do this, arseling?" Leofric arched a brow as he sorted through the shields, setting the ones they were taking aside.

The sound of straw rattled together as Uhtred brushed down the pale white steed, his back facing the pair. "Is there a law against it?"

Leofric held a shield in his arms, his eyes scanning across it for any damage that could potentially render it useless. "Dressing up as danes, no. Plundering cornwalum, yes, we're supposed to be at peace." Placing the shield in the cart, he dragged the sheet back over them to keep them hidden.

Freyja frowned softly, halting her movements as she stood by the mares head. She lowered her hands, turning to the warrior as the horse huffed and nudged her nose against Freyja's knuckles. "This was your idea, was it not?"

Leofric raised a brow in her direction, temporarily distracted as the mare continued to push against Freyja, her nose now nuzzling into the shoulder that carried the scar - fortunately, the skin had healed quite quickly as she had been able to remove the stitches, leaving a bumpy, jagged line of pink flesh.

"Perhaps." Leofric nodded once, his lips pressing together thoughtfully as he failed to see her point. "But I said to think about it."

Freyja's lips twitched with a half smirk, dull green eyes running across his taller stance only a mere feet across from her. "And we did - don't tell me you're backing out now." Turning, she resumed her grooming on the impatient mare when she was just about pushed over, the horse letting out a happy snort once she felt the familiar scratch of the hay on her fur.

Leofric squinted his eyes at her, knowing that there was no one to blame here but himself for giving Uhtred the idea. "I'm not -"

Uhtred released a sigh from across the stable, not even so much as glancing at them as he spoke. "If I'm to reclaim bebbanburg, I'll need an army. If I'm ever to raise an army, I'll need silver. We go."

Leofric chuffed, leaning his body over the cart. "I have no quarrel."

"Will Odda not miss you?" Uhtred glanced over, his bitterness still lingering at the thought that Leofric was now young Odda's man.

"I'm doing as he asks," Leofric looked up, his eyes moving over the siblings. "I'm you watching you both. He's building Alfred a church at cynuit, have you heard? With an altar of gold they say."

Freyja pressed her lips together with a hum. "A church in the place where Dane blood was spilt? How godly." Discarding the hay, she leaned her forehead against the mare, pressing a kiss to the stretch of her nose before she turned away to look over her brother who'd fallen silent.

He was staring off into the distance and her eyes followed in the general direction to find three of Oswald's children standing at a distance, hoping to bring her brother some form of guilt for mercilessly killing their father.

"Who are they?" Leofric jerked his chin in the children's direction, confusion hinting at his expression.

"They belong to Oswald." Uhtred information, slowly striding out from beneath the cover of the stables. "Their mother sends them, hoping to shame me for killing their lying, thieving father." Rearing his arm back, he through a rock at the children, hitting the boy square in the chest.