Northumbria ✓

6

Aethelthryth had to admit she felt much better knowing that she was protected. She walked with much calmer steps knowing her friends were protected. She hasn't been outside the castle for two days, so taking a stroll in the gardens was what she needed. Obviously, without any permission. Her room wasn't locked, what did they except?

The gardens that she herself looked after. It was a typical English garden, with no pattern and trees without any extra shape. Her mother used to sit in these gardens and read history, that was until Aelle usurped the crown. Her mother died, an arrow to her throat. It was a few years after their escape. Made, Aethelthryth realise there was nowhere to hide. And now her father was also dead.

Killed by the people she was keeping in her house. At that thought, angry scoff left her lips. The Lords will arrive, but she doubted that they would agree. Just threatening their lives wasn't going to do it. They were all too proud. Aethelthryth frowned, and disgusting. She hated half of those men she invited to her table. The only reason her father didn't crucify them was that they all held a purpose.

"What are you thinking so deeply about." Came that hard southern drawl from behind her. She didn't turn, her eyes still focused, taking in the garden as a whole. One of her father's killers stood right behind her, and she was doing nothing. In fact, she was daydreaming about his handsome figure.

She closed her eyes as she heard him coming closer, "Plotting your murder." The male had the nerve to chuckle. No matter how she tried to push him out, she had to admit it did sound melodic. On such a rough man, his voice was surprisingly soft. At least whenever he spoke to her.

She gave him a sideways glance as he stepped next to her and clasped his hands behind his back. She could still hardly believe how tall he was, how almost all the Viking men seemed tall. It made him even more attractive. She could feel his blue eyes on her, burning into her.

"I hope it does not involve death, by my very own knife, it's my favorite," he spoke in a joking manner.

Aethelthryth huffed, "Shall we take a walk?" She wrapped her hand around his bulging bicep. God, he was strong, almost like a wall. Her arm hooked through his, and she gestured with her head.

He graciously nodded his head, "I'm guessing the woods is your planned place for my murder." This time she let that small smile overtake her lips. "First, I need to plan the escape," she gave him another side glance.

Now that she thought about it, she didn't despise his closeness. And she noticed that he wasn't smelly. He nodded his head with an easy smile, "Of course, escape is important, but one of your defaults will be going for your friends." She gave him an exasperated offended look.

"So, you wouldn't go back for Ronja, for example." His mouth thinned as he mulled her words over.

He answered with ease, "Ronja isn't exactly my friend, but I am sure she would kill half of the castle even without my help." She chuckled at that. From the few encounters they had, she had to agree. The woman was an unstoppable force, and Aethelthryth didn't even want to think about her husband.

"Who exactly is the leader here?" Ubbe gave at her curiousness a small smile. As they walked with small tentative steps, it took him a while to answer. "Ronja and Ivar are here with my other brothers, Bjorn's, army. There are also Jarls loyal to my father's legacy and Ivar here. I am here with Irvina's army, who is the Queen of Trondheim." He paused, his eyes flickering around.

"I would like to think I have a say, but I don't want to upset Ronja, she was dangerous enough, without her pregnancy" —he turned to look at her with humor in his eyes— "and I think my brother would kill me if she told him I was mean to her." She also turned to him, sharing her confusion through her eyes. Was he joking?

"He would kill you even though you are his brother?" Why was she even asking these questions? She shouldn't care. Ubbe shrugged, "I mean, there isn't a thing you wouldn't do for love." This time she didn't stop her staring. Yes, love was magical and all, but she wouldn't kill her family for it. She wasn't sure she could even kill anyone, life was a gift from God, it should not be in her hands to decide who would live.

She took a step away and resumed their walking. Their arms brushing. They stopped before a circle of flowers along the wall. She always loved the smell of flowers, ever since her mother made her plant them. That was why she could hardly imagine leaving even though they were occupying her home. She wasn't just going to leave because some pagans took over. She was already once forced out of her shelter because of men's ambitions. The only thing that brought her relief was that these barbarians killed Aelle, and from what she heard, they made him suffer. Rightfully so, he was a disgusting man who laughed like a pig. But that was just the way she saw men.

Aethelthryth despised Lords, she loathed the men of God, they were all liars. That was why her father just squinted his eyes at her whenever she didn't attend church. Probably because he also knew what they were hiding behind all that tinsel and words of wisdom.

"Are you okay?" Aethelthryth nodded her head. Well, her thoughts took her to a completely different route.

"I just wanted to say that killing a brother for love is the most heathen thing I've heard." He smiled at her, not looking offended at all. Then he bent down and plucked blue Wisteria from the cluster of flowers.

He outstretched his hand, and she reculently put hers in his. He turned her hand over, so her palm was open. With gentle carefulness, he put the long blue flower into her palm. "You need to know love first to know how far you're ready to go for it." With those words whispered and carried by the wind, he walked away.