Blasphemy [Finan the Agile]

CHAPTER xxi. 'The Deal is the Deal'

ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

CHAPTER xxi. 'The Deal is the Deal'

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It had started storming by the time Freydis and Myfanwy returned back to Coccham. The gates were guarded by double men, and they watched wearily as the two women passed through the gates drenched in pouring rain with wind-spewn hair. The guard up front spat at Myfanwy's feet as they walked by, "Reckless whore!" He chided, tilting his nose in the air with rain dripping from the tip. "Coulda' gotten usurped cause' of your meddling!"

"Spit at me again, Ser Jamie, and I would think you are flirting with me." Myfanwy retorted, gripping his chainmail as she stood face-to-face with the Coccham guard. "Do not be bitter, darling, it is ugly on you."

Freydis rolled her eyes, hooking her arm around Myfanwy's arm to pull her through the gates with her. "Do not rile them up," she stated, "it appears our intrusion with the guard-schedule has become public – we shall deal with what has happened with Uhtred, and whomever else we share bonds with who are irate with us."

Myfanwy frowned, "Does that mean I cannot bathe before re-entering the population?"

    "I am afraid not, Myfanwy," Freydis stated, turning a corner to the main feast hall of Coccham. "Do not speak unless I tell you, I shall deal with the situation myself."

Myfanwy nodded, and Freydis' mind spiraled with how she should confront this situation. Would it be beneficial to her delegacy to tell Lord Uhtred the truth? Or should she lie, and risk him seeing directly though her? The Irish-rogue fought long and hard for her expression to persist neutral, however, on the inside she was sweating like a mad racehorse. Myfanwy outstretched her arm, and opened the door to allow herself, and Freydis inside. The Irish-rogues were immediately hit by a strong whiff of bone broth, and stew – Freydis' belly rumbled, however, it was easily devoid by the shout of a familiar baby monk, "Freydis!"

Freydis smiled, scampering toward the holy-monk and catching him in an embrace. "It has not been too long, monk. What is the reason for such a passionate welcome?"

The steps creaked, and Freydis' head whipped over to the wooden stairway to see her familiar Irishman. His expression was blank, conveying neither vex nor glee, and as he approached her with asha and cedarwood pervading his aura, Freydis noticed blissfully that his beard was cut, and elegantly sculpted around his chin. She opened her mouth to speak, to somewhat mention her observation without a properly-constructed thought, but his voice broke her out of her admiring gaze. "We didn't think yu' were comin' back."

Freydis' brows scrunched, and she looked between both Osferth and Finan with a disgruntled expression, "You didn't think... no... No, I would always come back, Finan, Osferth. For as long as you would all have me."