Blood Moon| The Last Kingdom| Sihtric Kjartansson

THIRTY-NINE

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[908 A.D. Dunholm] 

15 Years Later...

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Once upon a time, fifteen years ago, Dunholm was a fortress that stood in the middle of Northumbria. It was a fortress no longer.

Now, Dunholm castle had taken its place, with beautiful dark walls of brick and giant oak doors. The floors were made of marble, polished every day by servants, and the windows were colourful and laced with silver.

Outside the castle, the fortress remained. Ragnar's great hall remained, now a shrine for fallen warriors. Brynjar's forest camp remained, just beyond the towering stone walls that protected the castle, but few lived there still.

When I ordered War Commander Ingemar, now Jarl of Lindisfarne, to take Northumbria, she had not failed me. In fact, she delivered with ease. Within a year, Lindisfarne and Gyruum had been mine, followed by twenty smaller towns. Eoferwic had taken another year because Mercia had a hold on it, but eventually, the Mericans drew back their troops, and we took it.

I had made enemies, and I had made friends along the way, as was the way of Queen's, but beneath all the turmoil and battle, there was a constant. Something soft and sweet, like the last berries of summer, coating your tongue with sugar.

"You are awake early," Sihtric's voice was deep and muffled by his pillow as he reached for my waist blindly, pulling me half under him.

"I was thinking," I whispered, scared to break the peace of the morning as sunlight streamed through our window, the coloured glass covering us in blues and reds.

Sihtric hummed in response, shuffling about until his nose was buried in the crook of my neck, his hand squeezing my hip. "You are always thinking. You have forgotten how to relax."

I snorted softly, turning my body slowly and reaching my hand up, settling it on his bicep, turning patterns onto his warm skin. "I am very content where I am right now. I was thinking about how good things are, not about anything bad."

He shifted his head out away from my neck, his free arm digging under me and lifting me slightly so I was draped on top of him as he laid on his back.

I rested my head on his bare chest, drawing patterns over his heart, relishing in the sound of its beating in my ears.

Sihtric dragged his fingers through my hair slowly, pausing at the few braids I had in, toying with each one. He had braided my hair for me for the last fifteen years.

I looked up at him, his eyes still closed as he tried to wake from sleep before I tilted my head up and pressed my lips to his jaw.

His lips twitched up at one side, and he squeezed my hip before cracking open one eye; his green one. "Good morning to you too." He pushed himself up in one swift motion, propping his back up against the frame of the bed without letting me fall off him.

I threw my legs over his, sitting between them and reaching up to caress his cheek, day old stubble grazing my palm. "I do not want to get out of bed."

Sihtric smiled wider, his hand that was not at my waist coming up to my cheek, pressing my head to his chest and keeping it there. "Perhaps the council will allow it."