Sworn Enemies PT10
PAIRING: Alfred X Reader
WORD COUNT: 7874
WARNINGS: Violence.
SUMMARY: While Alfred and Y/N remain at odds, King Harald’s army moves in. An arrest is made, and Y/N learns of a possible sibling.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9
MASTERLIST
A/N: guess who's back (back back) back again
Apparently it was wrong of you to assume that your wedding night would be between just you and Alfred. Instead, here you were, standing in the middle of your chambers, wearing nothing but a slip and a cloak, surrounded by strangers including a Priest and a few of your handmaidens.
Alfred stood in front of you, also dressed in his undergarments and a long cloak, clearly avoiding your eyes. You weren’t quite sure what was happening, but you trusted him, so you remained silent.
The Priest recited something in Latin as two men began taking off Alfred’s cloak. At that same moment, you felt two pairs of hands on your shoulders, attempting to pull yours off as well. In shock, you shrugged them off and turned to confront your handmaidens.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The two women looked slightly intimidated as they answered, “Undressing you, my – Your Grace.”
You looked at them dumbfounded, “Why?”
The Priest stopped his recitation and turned to you. “Are you not aware of how marriage consummations are carried out?” he asked.
“Of course, I am,” you said, “But if that is what we are doing, why are you all still here?”
No one said a word. You looked between each of the men, waiting for an explanation, but none came. Not until Alfred spoke.
“The Priest has to bless the bed – as he has just done – and then they watch us...get into bed.”
You blinked, taken aback by his words. You had not been told that this was going to happen.
“It is how things are done, Your Grace,” the Priest said.
“I don’t care how things are done,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes and turning to Alfred, “Do you not think this is a little perverted?”
All the men in the room, bar Alfred, let out a horrified gasp.
“Excuse me, just what are you implying?” the Priest asked.
“I am not ‘implying’ anything,” you said, “I am saying that it is none of your business what Alfred and I do - or don’t do - on our wedding night.”
Everyone in the room looked at you like a woman who had just murdered an infant. Alfred sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, “My Lords, may I have a moment alone with my wife?”
They all nodded and began shuffling out of the room, muttering incoherent sentences under their breaths and shooting death glares at you. As soon as the door closed shut, you let out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.
“Y/N-” Alfred began with a pleading tone in his voice.
“No, Alfred,” you swiftly cut him off before he could even begin to make a case for tradition, “I will not consummate my marriage like this.”
“I am not fond of the custom either, but it is tradition,” he said, “I'm afraid we don't have a choice.”
You shot him a look and crossed your arms, “And if I told you that in Kattegat we would have to make a sacrifice to the gods, would you do that?”
“We are not in Kattegat, this is Wessex.”
“Yes. And I am not Saxon.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head, You knew that you were putting him in a difficult position, and that the Priest would not be happy if you didn’t go through with this, but nevertheless, you stood your ground. You had already compromised a lot since coming to Wessex, and this was one thing you would not waver on.
Alfred looked up at you, and upon seeing your arms still folded across your chest and your raised brow, he knew there was no talking you into this. “What am I supposed to tell them?” he sighed, finally giving in.
You let out a breath of relief and looked away thoughtfully. “You’re the King,” you said with a shrug, “Tell them whatever you want.”
He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Only for you,” he whispered, a gentle smile on his lips as he walked past you and out of the room.
You walked over to the side of the bed and sat down, letting out a deep breath as you ran your hand over the soft, silky material of the bedding. On the other side of the bedroom door, you could hear voices arguing and assumed that your refusal to do this ceremony was not going over well.
Before long, Alfred returned, shaking his head in annoyance, “We have agreed to dispense with the formalities.”
“You have?” you asked in disbelief.
Alfred shrugged his shoulders as he walked towards you and leaned against the wall, “Well, they were more reluctant than I, but the important part is that we came to an understanding.”
You cracked a smile as you nodded your head, knowing that they probably did not have much choice in that.
Alfred pushed himself off the wall and walked to the other side of the bed. He sat down on the edge, his back turned to you. Although you had been left to your own devices, you suspected that Alfred had only grown more anxious. You could see how tense his shoulders were from where you were sitting.
“Alfred?”
“Yes?”
You hesitated before speaking, “Are you scared?”
“I’m not,” he scoffed, but bowed his head and mumbled softly, “Just nervous.”
You knew Alfred had lived a more sheltered life than most and was not used to intimacy. This would be his first time with a woman, and you remembered how nerve-wracking it had been for you despite being exposed to it for most of your life.
You stood up slowly, removing your cloak in the process and letting it fall to the floor, before walking towards him. He flushed a little as you hiked up your slip and straddled his thighs, but made no move to push you off of him.
He froze as you slipped a hand under his silk shirt and shuddered as you lay your palm flat against his chest. Your lip twitched a little as you flicked your gaze up at him, “Your heart is beating very fast.”
He chuckled nervously and avoided your intense gaze. “Perhaps I’m...just a little bit scared,” he whispered.
You moved your hand from his cheek and brushed his hair out of his face. He let out a deep sigh at your touch and licked his lips nervously.
“You don’t have to be scared with me,” you spoke softly before leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss.
__________________________
“You’re lying.”
“I am not lying, Judith,” you said, “I heard everything. Their plan is to kill Alfred at the War Council. Lord Cyneheard and others are all working together...And Aethelred is their leader.”
Judith looked like she was about to explode with anger. You had told her everything you saw and heard the night before, but she was in denial. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Aethelred would ever do anything to harm his own brother.
“No,” she shook her head once more, biting her nails anxiously, “No, you’re lying.”
“What reason do I have to lie?”
“I don’t know!” she suddenly yelled before storming towards you, pointing an accusatory finger, “You know Aethelred is the closest person to Alfred. Perhaps you want him out of the way so you can control my son again.”
You let out a sigh of frustration, “Alfred and I are not even on speaking terms.”
“Exactly,” she said, smiling widely like she had just caught you in a lie, “You claim that you are angry at Alfred for betraying you, yet here you stand warning me about an alleged attack on his life. Why should you care if he lives or dies?”
The question caught you off guard. Of course, you knew exactly why. You cared because he was the one who had formed an alliance with your brothers, and without him, it was sure to fall through.
You cared because he was the father of your child.
Most importantly, you cared because despite everything he had done to you, despite every lie he had told you, you still loved him, and his death would only destroy you.
But you were not about to let Judith know that.
“I don’t know,” you whispered as you turned away from her, your hand resting on your stomach, “I just do, I suppose.”
With a deep sigh, you turned around to face Judith, more determined than ever. “You may not believe me, Judith, but I know what I heard,” you said firmly, fists clenched at your sides, “Now, if you will not do anything to help me, I will find people who will.”
You kept your gaze on her when you finished speaking, waiting - hoping - for a response. If there was one thing that you and Judith should be able to come together on, it's Alfred’s safety. She held your gaze for one long moment, but eventually looked away, shaking her head in denial.
A defeated sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. You stood there for a moment, trying to come up with other ways to save Alfred’s life. Judith had been your one and only hope, and for a moment, it almost felt like all hope was lost. At least until you remembered that you were not alone in this Kingdom anymore.
“Fine,” you spat as you brushed past Judith and stormed out of the room, “I’ll save him myself.”
__________________________
After your heated conversation with Judith, you were in no mood to celebrate Aethelred. Unfortunately, the presence of the King and Queen was required at his wedding - even if he was trying to assassinate said King.
All eyes turned to you as you walked into the chapel and a feeling of deja vu washed over you. Alfred looked surprised when you walked up to stand with him – as if you had much choice in the matter. Standing anywhere else would only draw more attention than you wanted, and neither of you could afford to cause a divide this close to a battle.
You could feel his eyes on you as you took your place beside him, but you didn’t entertain it. Eventually he turned to face the altar.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you both sat, giving the rest of the room permission to do so as well.
You glanced at him for a second, a little surprised, but didn’t say a word. Not when you couldn’t tell whether he was being honest, or if he was simply trying to pull you back into his clutches.
And then the ceremony began.
Once again, you felt Alfred’s eyes on you as Aethelred and his bride recited their vows. The same ones the two of you had sworn to each other almost a year ago.
This time, when you turned to look at Alfred, you let your gaze linger. The nostalgia overwhelmed you as you felt yourself forgetting everything that had happened recently. All the lies, the secrets, the deception. For a moment, it was just you two, back where you were when you said those vows to each other. When you told the people that you were marrying for an alliance, while secretly being consumed with a blinding love for him.
And then you remembered that the love was only ever one sided. That the pretence was not for the people as you’d thought at the time, but for you. To keep you in line.
Suddenly, your eyes began to brim with tears, and you cursed this affliction that comes with pregnancy. You looked away from Alfred, not wanting to let him see you like this. Heartbroken over losing him.
You rose along with the guests as Aethelred and Ethelfled were pronounced husband and wife, and the couple exited the Church. You discreetly wiped your eyes as they did so, but not so discreet because Alfred caught it.
“Y/N, is everything okay?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
You turned away from him as you began leaving behind the couple, “I’m fine. Leave it.”
“But you’re crying,” he said as he followed you out, trying his best to keep a straight face to avoid alarming the other guests.
As soon as you were outside and away from prying eyes, you turned to face him fully, hands on your hips and a scowl on your lips.
“Do you see any tears on my cheeks?” you snapped.
Alfred was bewildered. “No, but I thought I saw–“ he stopped when you raised a brow, “In there, you and I, we– I thought we–“
“You thought wrong,” you cut him off, “You saw what you wanted to see. Whatever you felt in there, you alone felt. I watched your brother and his wife speak the same vows you and I swore to each other...and I didn’t feel a thing.”
He looked like the air had been knocked out of him, “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” you said, whispering it as if doing so would allow you to pretend you hadn’t said it.
His eyes travelled to the ground before turning to leave. He hesitated as he took a few steps away from you, but kept on walking.
You let out a breath as soon as he was out of view, clutching your chest in a futile attempt to numb the heartache. The words were painful to say, but at least now he could stop pretending that the damage hadn’t been done. You knew there was absolutely no way back. It was time he caught up.
“The two of you are fighting,” a voice came from behind you – Bjorn’s.
You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him, “And that makes you very happy, doesn’t it?”
Bjorn didn’t respond. Instead, he watched you carefully, tilting his head as he tried to read you. “What did he do?” he asked eventually.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“You are my sister, and your husband has upset you,” he said, “Of course it is my concern.”
You wanted to tell him everything, not caring if it would only prove his distrust of the Saxons right. You just needed your brother. But you had a duty as Queen to uphold, and now was not the time to cause a rift between your brothers and Alfred. They needed each other to defeat King Harald.
And no matter how angry you were right then, you certainly didn’t need your brothers committing treason by murdering Alfred for what he had done to you.
“Even married couples fight, Bjorn,” you said, “You should know. How many times have you been married now?”
He chuckled and shook his head, crossing his arms as he did so. “He must have done something terrible if you will not tell me,” he frowned as he brushed past you, “But don’t worry, I won’t ask again.”
__________________________
Ubbe had grown close to Alfred in the last few weeks, and you knew that it would not be difficult to ask for his help in stopping the planned assassination. The rest of your family - Bjorn to be specific - proved to be the real task. Still, you managed to bring them all to the dining hall just a few minutes before the War Council and ask for their help.
“So, you want us to help you stop these people?” Bjorn asked, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Why would we do that?”
You narrowed your eyes at him and clenched your jaw. His amusement was making a mockery of the situation. “Need I remind you that without Alfred, your deal for the lands in East Anglia will never be upheld,” you said, “And without him we will all hang...At best.”
Bjorn rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He knew that you were right, and he hated it.
“Why can’t you tell your husband and allow his own men to protect him?” he asked, “Or are you still not speaking to him?”
Ubbe’s head snapped towards you. “You and Alfred are not speaking? What happened?”
You glared at Bjorn for exposing your marital troubles before letting out a heavy sigh, “It’s only a quarrel, nothing important.”
“I suppose it explains why you did not attend Ubbe’s baptism,” Torvi said as Bjorn rolled his eyes, “But it is strange that Alfred did not say anything about this to you, Ubbe.”
They began speculating amongst themselves, completely ignoring that you were standing right in front of them. You looked to Lagertha, pleading with your eyes to make them listen to you.
“I don’t think your sister called us here to discuss her marriage, do you?”
You gave her a small nod as they all turned their focus back on you. “I have said all that I need to say,” you said, “I need your help. Please.”
You watched as all four of them - Bjorn, Lagertha, Ubbe and Torvi, shared a look between themselves, and let out a sigh of relief when Bjorn nodded.
“But after this is done, I want all of us to meet back here,” Bjorn said, his eyes on you.
“What about?”
“It is a family matter,” he said as he stood up from the table he was leaning on and walked past you to the door, “I will see you after the meeting.”
__________________________
Being a protector had always been a part of your identity. As a child, you protected Ivar from the other children who couldn’t understand why he was different. After your father left, you protected your mother from the enemies who seemed to come from all sides. And now, here you were again, surrounded by enemies and desperate to protect your unborn child and her father from those that wished to harm them.
You glanced at Alfred standing beside you, blissfully unaware of the danger he was in. Judith stood on the other side of him, looking almost as anxious as you felt. She knew that if there was to be an attack, it would be today. It was clear that a part of her was simply in denial. You could tell by her pale face and anxious eyes that she was on edge.
The sound of Alfred addressing the crowd seemed to fade into the background as you scanned the crowd for Aethelred. Before long, you caught sight of Cyneheard whispering something to a fidgety Aethelred. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the glint of the daggers hidden in their robes, ready to attack.
As you looked around, trying to find either of your brothers in the crowd, you noticed how strange most of the men were behaving. They kept glancing quickly between Aethelred and Alfred, hands hidden in their robes, no doubt gripping weapons. They were waiting for something.
Finally, you spotted Bjorn in the corner of the room and gave a subtle nod towards Cyneheard who now had a firm grip on Aethelred’s forearm as he whispered harshly into his ear. He began making his way towards the pair, his hand resting on the hilt of his axe.
Cyneheard continued to whisper into Aethelred’s ear. That was what they were waiting for - Aethelred. But the man they had put their faith in was hesitating. From where you stood, he looked pale and sweaty. He was breathing hard, averting his eyes quickly when he caught you staring.
For a moment, you wondered if he could actually do it. He might harbour negative feelings towards Alfred, but killing your only brother is easier said than done.
You discreetly raised a hand to Bjorn, asking him to wait as you watched Aethelred shuffle from foot to foot nervously. He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.
Finally, he whispered something back to Cyneheard, which enraged the older man and caused him to spit something back in reply and back away slowly. They had lost.
You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips. But that relief was short lived when you heard what Alfred was currently announcing to the room.
“I am thankful to all of you, and to God, for allowing me to lead you into battle,” he said, “I know that I have the support of my beloved brother Aethelred, and of Ubbe, Bjorn and Lagertha.”
He turned to look at you earnestly, “And my wife, Y/N, who will be there by my side...as she has been from the start.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watched him. How could he say something so foolish? He would only get himself killed. You were fighting to save his life, only for him to endanger it on his own. The irony was not lost on you.
As Alfred concluded his address, you stood speechless and watched him leave the throne room with his guards. Judith approached you, anger evident in her eyes.
“I knew you were lying,” she spat through clenched teeth.
“I didn’t lie.”
“Then why was there no attack?”
She waited for a response or explanation – neither of which you had to offer. When she realised that, she turned and left in a huff, relieved that the ordeal was over.
You, on the other hand, knew that it was not. Although you wanted to rush after Alfred and convince him not to join the fight, there was someone more important that you needed to confront.
__________________________
It had been a while since you had pressed a dagger against someone’s throat.
You had missed the feeling.
After the War Council, you followed Aethelred and ambushed him just outside his study. There was a short struggle - one that ended with him pushed up against his bookcase with the sharp end of a dagger aimed at his jugular.
“Tell me, Aethelred,” you whispered, “Have you ever seen me angry?”
“I've seen you in battle,” he grunted as he tried to move his neck away from the blade, “It’s nothing special.”
You chuckled lowly and tilted your head to the side. “In battle? That is me at my most calm,” you said, “The only time I get angry – blinded with rage, really – is when someone threatens my family. Just ask King Aelle.”
Aethelred looked down at you, his expression wavering. “What do you want?”
“A confession.”
“A confession? I have not done anything.”
You pushed the blade against his neck, nicking the skin and drawing blood, making Aethelred freeze in place. “You conspired to murder Alfred and take his place as King.”
“I did no such thing!”
“I saw you,” you said, “You and your friends. Lord Cyneheard? Is he your second-in-command?”
He looked away from you guiltily.
“I listened at the door of your secret meeting place,” you continued, “And I heard you plan to murder Alfred today at the War Council, so don’t lie to me.”
Silence as his gaze dropped to the floor. His whole body deflated, arms falling to his sides as he stopped fighting you.
“I did it. I conspired to overthrow my King,” he murmured almost to himself, his brows knitting together, “I tried to murder my own brother.”
You faltered.
You had not expected it to be that easy. That he would admit it without much hassle. And most shockingly, he looked ashamed.
Slowly, you dropped the dagger from his neck and stepped back a little, eyeing him cautiously. “Why did you do it?”
He shook his head, his eyes still on the ground. “It wasn’t my intention for it to go this far,” he muttered, “I was angry after my mother forced me to give up the Crown to Alfred. And, yes, I envied all that he came to be. All that he came to have.”
“The more people accepted him, the more I burned with rage,” he said, his eyes raising to meet yours, “He had taken everything that was rightfully mine and I was left with nothing. Not even our mother looked at me with anything more than disdain.”
You looked away when you caught yourself empathising with him. Sigurd had felt the exact same way about your mother and Ivar. And deep down, there was a part of you that had felt that way at some point too.
“Why you?” you asked, stepping forward, "Why did they choose his own brother to replace him?"
"I have royal blood, the right wife, and most importantly, the correct allegiance," he spoke frankly, "They knew that I would rule like my father did, and that in my hands, Wessex would always come first."
"Wessex has always come first with Alfred."
“They do not see it that way,” Aethelred said, “Alfred was making too many changes in the Church. He offered land to our enemies, and even worse, married a heathen.”
You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. “Was that not always the plan? For Alfred to marry me, have a child that is part Viking and use us to broker peace?”
“It was, originally,” he confessed, “We’d expected you to be with child shortly after the wedding, but it never happened. And then your brothers arrived and you were no longer needed.”
“So what changed?”
“Alfred did,” he said as he moved across the room, “He refused to be rid of you. We'd thought we were the ones deceiving you, but the whole time, Alfred was deceiving us.”
What did that even mean?
“What changed your mind, then?” you asked and stepped closer to him, “Why not take what you wanted? You could have killed him, killed my brothers and I, and taken the throne for yourself.”
His gaze faltered as he looked away from you and walked towards his desk, leaning forward against it, his knuckles pressing down hard on the wood.
“Alfred did,” he whispered almost to himself, “Even without knowing that I had betrayed him, he was somehow able to remind me of the sacred bond between brothers. After speaking with him today…I have never been more disgusted by myself. By the fact that I ever entertained the idea of harming him in any way.”
He turned to face you. “I will never forgive myself for the part that I played in this treasonous act. And I swear to you on my life that I will never betray my brother again."
You didn’t say anything to comfort or reassure him. As far as you were concerned, he deserved to stew in his shame. But you couldn't ignore the sincerity in his tone.
"I told your mother about my suspicions and your plans," you said, eyeing him as a horrified look descended upon his face, "She didn't believe me."
The wave of relief that washed over Aethelred was clear to see, but it only enraged you. How could he escape justice after all that he had done? Were you just supposed to pretend like none of it had happened? Did Alfred not have a right to know that his brother tried to kill him?
"Judith may not have believed me, but Alfred will."
His eyes bulged out of his head as the vein in his forehead began to pulse. He was panicking. Good. You wanted him to feel a fraction of the fear that you felt when you found out about his plans.
"Please. You cannot tell him," he managed to splutter as he stepped closer to you.
You simply eyed him with contempt as he pleaded with you, "Alfred deserves to know what kind of man his brother is."
"Do it for his own sake," he said, "Knowing this will crush him, and he needs to be focused on the coming battle."
Aethelred waited with baited breath as you mulled it over. He was trying to manipulate you, and you knew it. Still, he had a point.
"I'm not so foolish as to believe that anything you say or do is for Alfred's benefit," you spoke curtly, "But one thing is true: Alfred loves you, and I will not be the one to break his heart by telling him about you."
Yet another breath of relief escaped his lips. He bent down against the desk taking in deep breaths and mumbling some sentiment of gratitude.
You couldn't stand the sight of his pathetic self anymore, and with a huff, made a move to leave the study. But you couldn't go without delivering one final warning.
"If I ever suspect that you plan to do something to so much as undermine Alfred, I will hack the bones in your back and carve out your lungs while you still breathe."
__________________________
Even though you were late to Bjorn's meeting, you had not missed much. Bjorn had introduced a man who claimed to be Ragnar's son and had a grudge against Alfred. Arguments ensued.
Somewhere amongst the aggression, you heard someone call your name.
"Y/N," Ubbe nudged you with his shoulder, "You've been quiet. What do you think about this?"
You trained your eyes on your alleged brother. Magnus. He kept glancing at Bjorn out of the corner of his eyes, clearly uncomfortable under your scrutinizing gaze.
Slowly, you stood from your chair and approached him. He held his breath as you narrowed your eyes at him.
"You don't look like us," you observed.
"That hardly proves anything," he scoffed, "You don't look like your brothers either. Nor Ragnar"
"Of course not, I look like my grandmother," you glanced over your shoulder at your brothers, "Bjorn and Ubbe look like Ragnar."
You were quiet again as you continued to stare, this time not just examining his physical appearance, but his story too. None of it made any sense.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to face your brothers with a shrug. "I don't believe him either," you finally said, agreeing with Ubbe and Lagertha.
Magnus suddenly exploded. "How can you say that to me?! After all I've been through to find all of you?"
Bjorn held up a hand to silence him. "Why don't you believe him?" he asked.
"His story does not match Ragnar's. Or anything Ragnar would say or do," you said, "Our father would never say that he loves you. I was his daughter and he was barely able to say those words to me. And if he truly claimed you as his son, he would have told Ivar, so that he could tell us."
"Maybe Ivar kept it from us," Bjorn suggested.
"He wouldn't have kept it from me," you said, then turned to Magnus, "You may very well be Viking, but you are not our brother, Magnus."
His body visibly shook with anger as his face went red and his clenched fists turned white. But instead of unloading all his frustrations on you, he stormed out of the room, muttering incoherently to himself.
Bjorn glared at all of you before standing to leave without a word.
"Bjorn," you called out to him before he left, "Don't believe anything he says. Not about Ragnar, and not about Alfred."
__________________________
Ubbe had a plan – a good plan.
Despite this, you remained anxious. The army was riding out in a day, and you couldn't help but feel unprepared.
You'd decided to visit the battlefield to make sure everything was in order. So far everything seemed to be that way, except for one thing.
"Edwin!" you called for your Second who came running to your side, "We need at least three more catapults on the left."
"Yes, Commander," he nodded and rushed off to carry out your order.
Suddenly, the sound of grunting and swords clashing came from behind you. You swiftly turned around, hand on your axe ready to be drawn, only to find Ubbe sparring with Alfred. You would have intervened, but Alfred seemed to be holding his own against your brother, a sight that was surprising to witness.
Alfred smiled when he successfully defended himself against Ubbe's attacks, a smile which faltered when he spotted you standing just a few feet away. You quickly looked away and pretended to examine the catapult. He approached you before long, but chose not to speak as he stood beside you.
"I did not know you would be here," you said, refusing to look at him.
"Ubbe thought I should familiarise myself with where we will be fighting soon."
You sighed and closed your eyes when you remembered the stupid decision Alfred had made to participate in this battle. At least you still had some time to talk him out of doing something so life endangering and foolish.
"Actually, I'm glad you are here," you cleared your throat and looked up at him, "I wanted to speak to you about something."
His eyebrows raised in surprise, “What do you need to speak to me abou–”
“You cannot lead the army,” you cut him off sharply.
“What?”
“You heard me,” you jutted out your chin and folded your arms, “You cannot lead the army, Alfred, you can barely fight.”
“I can fight,” he retorted, “I have been training with Ubbe for months now.”
You scoffed in response, “A few sparring sessions with my brother and you think you are ready to fight a Viking army led by King Harald?”
“Yes.”
You let out a frustrated sigh and buried your face in your hands. Why was he being so stubborn? Especially when you were trying to save his life.
“I am only trying to protect you,” you whispered harshly.
He chuckled softly and cocked his head to the side, “I remember trying to do the same for you only a short while ago.”
“That is not the same."
“Is it not?” he asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh when you didn’t speak. “It is my duty to lead the army,” he said, willing you to understand, “How can I expect my men to fight for this Kingdom, if I will not fight for them?”
You shook your head swallowed the lump in your throat, “You have nothing to prove.”
“Yes. I do.”
“You could die,” your voice cracked as you spoke. You turned away to avoid his gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you still cared.
“I know,” he said and sucked in a deep breath, “Which is why you need to know the truth.”
“Gods,” you rolled your eyes and began to walk away, "I have heard all that I need to hear.”
"No, you haven't," he grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him rather roughly, “Why won't you just let me explain?”
You snatched your arm back. "Because I know what you are going to say," you said, "That you are sorry for lying to me, and that even though it started with deception, you truly do love me now. I know. But it does not change the fact that you have hurt me deeply. Your explanation is not good enough."
"I-," he began in a soft voice, "I am so sorry, Y/N."
You blinked back the tears brimming in your eyes and whispered, "It's not good enough, Alfred."
__________________________
The day had come to ride out to battle and neither you nor Alfred had taken the other's advice and chosen to stay back. Judith said her farewells to her sons then, for some reason, decided to escort you out to your horse.
"What was the name you gave, when you came to me about Aethelred?" she asked out of the blue.
Your brows furrowed, "Cyneheard?"
"I thought so," she said, her voice eerily calm as she looked straight ahead, "I know I was a bit dismissive with you, but I assure you, I will do everything I can to get to the bottom of this matter."
You both came to a stop when you arrived at your horse. "What does that mean?" you asked as you turned to her.
"Never you mind," she said as you climbed onto your horse, "I trust you will keep Alfred safe on the field?"
"Of course."
She cracked a smile and walked away to stand with Aethelred's wife. You tried to forget the conversation, but you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was about to happen.
You waited as Alfred approached and climbed onto his horse next to you. He didn't say a word, his eyes instead scanning the crowd before finally settling on one man.
"My Lord Cyneheard," he said, his voice just as calm as his mother's.
"Yes, Sire?"
"You will not be leaving with us today," he continued.
You turned to Aethelred with furrowed brows and noticed just how alarmed he looked.
"Why not?" Cyneheard asked, guilt evident just from his tone.
"Because you are arrested. For treason."
A tiny gasp escaped your lips at Alfred's command. Your head snapped towards Judith as Cyneheard was pulled off his horse and dragged through the mud into the Villa. She simply gave a smirk and a grateful nod before turning to go back inside.
You were still in a daze as you rode out of the compound, shocked by what had just happened, and by the feeling of unease that Judith had managed to spark in you.
__________________________
The army had temporarily set up camp as you waited for Ubbe to return from King Harald. He needed to buy enough time for your army to travel around King Harald's if you were to ensure that the battle would be fought on the grounds you had chosen. He would be back soon so you returned to your tent to put your armour on.
The bustling of the men outside served as a reminder of what was coming. You sat glued to a chair as you imagined all the ways this day could go wrong. All the people you could lose.
You thought of your baby, and what would happen to her if you hit the ground too hard, or if you were struck in the wrong place. The mere thought of losing her devastated you, and you knew it would crush Alfred. He would never forgive you.
“Y/N? Are you there?”
It was him now. You could just make out his silhouette through the thin fabric of the tent. Slowly, you pulled on your boots and walked to the front of the tent, hesitant to let him in.
“Y/N...I can see you.”
You sighed and placed your hands on your hips. It wasn’t about him, you were just afraid that talking to him would end in vomiting or tears, and you could do without either today.
“Come in,” you said, opening the flap and stepping aside to let him pass.
He ducked his head as he walked in, looking like a giant in your low tent. He stopped in front of you, eyeing your form as he thought of the right words to say.
“I have been worried about you,” he looked at you earnestly, “I haven’t slept.”
He wasn’t lying, and the sentiment warmed your heart.
“I have been worried too,” you replied, “Every time I close my eyes, I think about everything that could go wrong.”
"You have been in this situation more times than I," he said, "Is it normal to feel this way?"
"I suppose. But there is something about today..." you sighed as you looked into his eyes, "It feels like there is more at stake."
He held your gaze for a moment as you both stood in a comfortable silence. Until you realised that it had lingered too long and he was standing a bit too close. You looked away quickly and cleared your throat as you stepped back.
"Why did you come here, Alfred?"
He ran a hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression suddenly descending on his features.
"We could die today," he said, "And I needed to see you...and to speak to you-"
"Alfred," you cut him off and turned to grab your sword belt and axe, "You and I are not going to have this conversation today of all days."
"I know, I just," he stopped, searching for the right words, "Before we go out there, I just need to know that you don't hate me."
You raised your gaze to look at him, and your heart sank when you realised just how heartbroken and bereft he was. Suddenly, all the fight, all the anger, was gone, and all that was left was sorrow and an aching heart.
“I could never hate you, Alfred,” you whispered, a hint of shock in your voice at the possibility that he would ever think that.
He perked up at your words, asking, “You don’t?”
“I don’t,” you said, then let out a bitter chuckle, “I have wanted to. And, believe me, I have tried. It would be easier.”
A long stretch of silence followed, neither of you knowing how to go on. Even though you loved him, you didn’t know when — or if — you could ever forgive him.
“I don’t know where we go from here,” Alfred sighed, “Believing that you hated me had a sense of finality, but now…our future seems uncertain.”
You simply shrugged and looked down to secure your axe on its holster, “It always has been.”
“Not to me.”
You flicked your eyes up at him to find him gazing intently at you. He loved you. Deep down you knew it.
A part of you wanted to trust him again. A part of was searching for a reason to forgive him. Why couldn’t you just take that first step?
When you didn’t reply, Alfred let out a short breath and turned to leave the tent.
“Wait.”
He froze in his steps and quickly turned around.
You sucked in a sharp breath. "If you loved me – if you truly loved me – why did you convince your advisors that you were only marrying me to produce a Viking heir?" you asked, "You were already the King, you didn't have to. And why didn't you tell me of your plans."
"What was it you said to me once?" he said, cracking a smile, "As King, I can do whatever I want. But it also means that I cannot do whatever I want."
You remembered saying the words to him, and couldn't believe he did too.
"As for not telling you," he continued, "I foolishly thought that I was sparing you. I realise now how wrong I was."
"You should have moved on after I left, married a lovely Princess," an exasperated sigh left your lips as ran a hand through your hair, "We could have saved ourselves from all of this. Why didn't you?"
"Is it not obvious?" he asked, "I met you, I fell in love with you, and then I couldn't live without you."
You didn't know if you believed him, but you were certain that your heart had skipped a beat.
__________________________
It was time.
All the planning, the scheming, and forged alliances had led to this battle.
Atop your horse and staring down King Harald's army, for a moment, none of it seemed real. Your head was still in that tent, going over what Alfred had said again and again.
You glanced at him, proudly sitting on his own horse beside you. He had never looked more like a King – a true leader of his people. Broad shoulders, stern expression, and motivational words. But only you could see the way his lip quivered when he spoke, and the way his hands shook as he held onto the reins.
"Are you afraid too?" you asked and he turned to look at you. He hesitated before answering.
"Yes."
Slowly, you reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as you did so. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up at you. You held his gaze and squeezed his hand. No words needed to be said. You both knew what it meant.
__________________________
The battle had raged on for what felt like an eternity, and things were not looking good for your side. You had chosen to stay behind and command the archers in an effort to protect your child, but now...
With a grunt, you jumped off your horse and spoke to the soldier beside you, "You have command."
"All of you, with me now," you yelled the order to all the soldiers on your right before charging into battle.
Within minutes of being in the thick of it, you lost count of how many men you had taken down. It was like your body was acting on its own, slaughtering people who were once your fellow countrymen like they were nothing but cattle.
You came up behind a shield maiden who was attacking one of your soldiers and slit her throat. As her body slumped against yours, you spotted Alfred out of the corner of your eye locked in his own battle with a man twice his size. He would never make it out of that alive. Not on his own.
Without a second thought, you threw the body aside and started to run, expertly dodging every sword and axe thrown in your direction. You could see Alfred's face as the weight of his opponent's sword bore down on his shield. He knew he couldn't defeat this man. You willed your legs to run faster.
The next few seconds felt like time slowed down. Your heart sank into your stomach as you realised you wouldn't make it to Alfred. The regret of all the things you wished you had said to him in that tent hit you like a ton of bricks.
You heard yourself scream as the man raised his sword to deliver a final blow. Just as he did, an axe came flying out of nowhere and buried itself deep in his skull.
Aethelred stood just a few feet away, breathing heavily as the man sunk to the floor and a pool of blood gathered around his head. He walked over and dislodged the axe from where it was embedded, then to Alfred to whom he offered a hand.
You froze as you looked on in shock, surprised by Alfred's saviour, but more grateful than you had ever been in your entire life. It was only a moment's hesitation, but you knew you had made a grave mistake the second you felt it.
An arrow in your thigh.
You didn't realise when a strangled cry tore through your throat as you fell to your knees. It sounded like it had come out of someone else's lips. The blood gushed out of you even as you pressed your hand to the wound.
And then a second arrow.
This time, you felt the pain everywhere and you couldn't be sure where you'd been hit. All you could see was an arrow head protruding from your torso, and the excruciating pain that came with it. It was too much to even attempt to scream.
As you collapsed to the ground, struggling to stay awake – to stay alive – the clashing of swords and cries of dying men all faded to the background. You could only hear one thing. Echoes of the same sentence repeated over and over again.
"The Queen has fallen!"
***
Well this was a long time coming, huh? Thank you to all these lovely supporters! I'm sorry this took forever ❤️
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