A Saint To A Sinner

2.37

The following morning was the hardest for Y/N. Her body had ached from the birth of her son but mourned the death of her closest friend. Her mind had no time to grieve. It forced itself into motherhood. As if it was the most natural thing she had ever done. It was a shock to Sihtric to see his wife take to their son as if Cynlæf had been around for so long. For Y/N, that was not the biggest shock for her. It was how easily she could adapt to motherhood in such circumstances until she saw Beocca, who sat on the floor.

Y/N approached Finan, wrapping her arms underneath his shoulder for comfort.
"Has he slept at all?" Finan placed his hands over hers as he watched Beocca.
"No. Not a wink." Finan unwrapped her hands as he carefully walked over to Beocca.
"You need to walk away now, Father. A drink of ale, maybe?" Finan did not know what to say. None of them did. They all felt the pain of Thyras' death. Finan crouched down carefully, his hand resting over his, "I shall recover her and wrap her for yu to bury."
"I...No... I will find her. She is my wife." Finan smiled gently, offering to help him recover Thyras body.
"This fire did not just happen. It did not." Beocca spat as he looked at Sihtric. "I know Y/N had been trying to prevent it for months, and I let it happen." Beocca stood up to dust himself off as he looked at Y/N. "How much anger do you have, Y/N the Water Dancer." Y/N laughed nervously at Beoccas' words an old nickname she was given. She knew what he meant, he wanted to confront Æthelwold.
"What do you want me to do, drown him?" Beocca grabbed Y/Ns arm, sarcastically smiling at her husbands as she dragged her to the Alehouse.

"Ah. Ah. Ah." Y/N scolded at Beocca before he walked into the Alehouse.
"You're right." Beocca agreed as he took the axe from outside before marching in. Y/N watched Beocca slam the axe against the table scarring Æthelwold and Æthelred.
"There will be no need for swords!" Lord Aldhelm said as he grabbed Beocca.
"I am merely introducing myself." Beocca glared at the men.
"Father Beocca, you are suffering." Æthelwold said timidly as he watched Beocca.
"I do not wish to hear your voice. It was you who killed her, not some stray ember on a bed of straw. It was you. If not directly, then by the words you whisper, by the lies you tell, the bile you spew!" Beocca spat at Æthelwold, holding his stance. "In the eyes of some a gentle woman who became an enemy and nothing more. You should turn a death ear to this man."
"Father Beocca, I will forgive this display, just once. Another word and you will pay." Æthelred said.
"He will not." Y/N said as she dragged Beocca back, holding his arm in amusement.
"Did I do well?" Beocca asked.
"Always. You always do Thyra well."

Y/N returned back to Sihtric and Finan to see them trying to comfort their crying son. She could see Osferth hiding behind his hand, laughing as the two men were trying to stop their crying son. Both were having incredibly hard time.
"Well, this is an awful sight." Beocca said. Making her two husbands jump at the sound of his voice.
"What have you done to my son?" Y/N took Cynlæf in her arms cooing gently. His cries began to soften when he felt his mother's touch.
"He started crying when he looked at Osferth." Finan pointed at Osferth.
"Finan tried to stop him with ale." Sihtric said, causing Y/N to look up.
"You gave him ale! Ale?" Y/N glared at Finan, who pointed at Sihtric. Y/N looked at the both of them, waiting for an answer.
"Well, actually, Y/N." Osferth interrupted. "Finan suggested it, and Sihtric went and got a cup of ale and that is when it got worse."
"Help, Beocca, before I kill the pair of you." Y/N growled out as she attended to her son.