Communion of Darkness & Light » Sigtryggr || The Last Kingdom

Baptism

The river was a tangle of reeds and new green in the golden glow of morning. A haze of fine mist hung over the water. Birds sang. Aelfwynn lifted the hem of her skirt as she ventured through the dewy grass. She had left behind her leather shoes, not even bothering with her veil or a modest braid.

At the water's edge, underneath the dancing shadow of a willow, she sank to her knees. She held her cross in her hand, the chain dangling past her fingers and catching the light. Smoothing a thumb over the crucifix, she closed her eyes.

So much had changed in a week's time.

Osferth's words returned to her in the quiet of her mind, as they had throughout the peaceful night. Her soul was at rest, though her heart was a still a storm of questions. Was this truly God's will for her?

"Father in Heaven," she prayed, under her breath. "If this is what You have planned for me, I ask for a sign. Please. I beg for your direction. I believe, help my unbelief."

Powerful wings rushed from overhead. A swan drifted onto the glassy surface of the slow moving current. It's white feathers stirred the ghostly trails of mist. Aelfwynn watched in rapt silence.

His head rose from the water. Long curls trailed over his battle worn shoulders. Sigtryggr smoothed his hands over his face, his broad back to her as he faced the rising sun. His skin gleamed as though he had been reborn.

Aelfwynn didn't dare breathe.

Sigtryggr's arms lifted to his sides, palms skyward, as though he had wings as well. It was almost a position of worship. Then he turned towards the river bank. The sharp angles of his catlike countenance were less severe in the morning light. The prominent scar over his eye was not as fearsome.

"A vision of a baptism to come," she whispered, the breeze brushing the hair from her shoulders unto her back. "Thank You, Father. I hear You."

Blinking away the dampness from his lashes, his eyes fixed on her where she knelt on the river bank, then widened in recognition. Pearls of river water trembled over his mouth then fell from his chin. He became like a statue, silhouetted in the breaking dawn, till he was irredescent.

The hammer of the false god hung around his neck, resting on a well muscled chest, though the rest of his body was bare. Aelfwynn was not disturbed by the symbol this time. She now saw the truth of the matter. The pagan deity was her enemy, not Sigtryggr. She had been divinely called to be his wife, as Hosea had been called by God to marry the prostitute, Gomer. She would not be afraid.

Rising to her feet, she stepped out into the water. Her skirts trailed behind her, the slick bed of clay and rotting vegetation was soft beneath her. She gripped the cross in her hand, her heart roaring in her chest.

Despite her conviction, she was trembling. He had been bathing naked. She kept her eyes above his narrow waist and on his face. His shock melted to curiosity.

She stopped an arm's length before him, the ends of her long hair brushing the water's surface at her waist. He cocked his head to the side with a tease of a smirk, secretive as the moon, on his mouth.

"You've come to me as I hoped you would. I am called Sigtryggr. And you are Guthrum's daughter, Aelfwynn." The voice did not match his fearsome appearance. It was patient, soothing, like the kindest parent speaking to a child.

Aelfwynn wet her lips. "My father's name is Aethelstan."

"It is not the name he was given at birth."

"It is the name that he chose for himself."

Sigtryggr gave a small nod. "He took a different path from his people, as you have."

"My path has been directed by the Almighty since I was born. He is the one who led me here to you this morning."

"And for what reason, I wonder?" He took a step closer. Aelfwynn stood her ground. "What could your nailed god of love have to do with me?"

She drew a swift breath as he came closer still. "More than you can fathom now."

He gazed down into her face, a hand's breadth from her. She struggled to keep her mind on the cross in her hand. His breath teased the hair at her temple.

"Would your god bind you to me?"

She met his eyes without fear. "I believe it is His will."

He paused a beat, thoughts whirling behind his eyes as he searched her face.

"I have spoken with your father. He told me of your wish to join a convent. I understand that marriage was never your desire. It was never in my plans either. But I must for the sake of my people. If you wish it, we may be husband and wife in name alone. I will leave you to your prayers and studies, to live a life as a nun." His face was gentle in understanding. Despite herself, Aelfwynn allowed her gaze to rest on his mouth. She had never been kissed, never wished for it, but the desire rose up in her chest like a gale. "I swear it, Aelfwynn. I would never touch you unless you asked for it," he whispered huskily, drawing a shallow breath.

She fought for focus. A sweet ache overwhelmed her being, wanting just what he offered. Lust. It was a temptation of Satan. She had to be strong, for the sake of this man's soul if anything. For the sanctity of her country.

She opened his palm, then pressed the bronze crucifix into his hand, closing the calloused fingers around it.

"I will be wed to you at the month's end, Sigtryggr, as your true wife in more than name," she said, lifting her chin and setting her jaw. She did not wait for his answer, but turned away with weak limbs.

She trudged up the muddy river bank without daring another glance. She had walked through the fire and had not been found wanting. Her fate was decided.

Aelfwynn would save Sigtryggr Ivarsson's soul.