𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʜᴇʀᴏ.

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 —
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʜᴇʀᴏ
ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏɴᴇ — ᴏᴍᴇɴꜱ

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

SWORDS CLASHED TOGETHER
with a roaring strike that cracked like a blade of electricity, shaking the very place where it hit the earth. A sense of numbness took over the limb that gripped the handle tight, like the very bolt of lightning had zapped at the nerves crawling beneath her skin.

Freyja gritted her teeth in frustration as Leofric continued to skilfully dodge her hits, blocking each and every strike of her sword like a game of cat and mouse — in this case, she was the cat ready to pounce and he was the rat that smartly outplayed it's opponent.

"You yet to swing, asswiper." She glared heatedly, dancing around him easily — his eyes carefully following her in a circle. Once she was behind him, she gripped the sword and charged, her pace a little slowed then what it would be in battle.

"And you're too predictable, Dane." Leofric mused, stepping to the side to avoid her strike. Lifting his arm that didn't hold the sword, he wrapped it around the front of her shoulder, pulling her back tight against his chest. His sword came around, pinning it against hers.

The sound of hooves clicked the ground and the pair looked up to see Uhtred in the glare of light.

There was a smile on his face, one that held promise to his teasing. "You two lovebirds need to confess your love already." He hummed, cerulean eyes glancing back and forth between the close proximity of their faces. "Mount your horses, I want to show you something." Gesturing with his head, he tightened the reins, nudged his foot and clicked the horse onwards leaving the two to stand in his silence.

Freyja rolled her eyes and pushed against Leofric's chest but his grip only tightened. She felt his head shift, the course hairs on his jaw scratching her skin, his warm breath against her ear. "Civilization made you soft."

Freyja ground her teeth, glaring into the distance of the homestead. "I thought you prefer your woman soft." Ripping away from his chest, she instantly spun to face him, her speed quick as she raised the sword up, the tip brushing over his neck.

The look on his face shook with gleaming pride and the smile gave way to his lips. He allowed his hand to drop in defeat, the sword clattering to the ground. "Now, where'd you hear that?"

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

STANDING ON THE RIDGE
where the hill met it's highest peak, Freyja looked down into where the earth dipped and trees rose high into the sky. The ferns and shrubs between them swayed, looking to be inching across the land like a rippling current.

"What is it you're looking at?" A high pitched voice pinched the air and a flash of orange settled between Uhtred and Freyja. Mildrith looked up from drying the ends of her hair of lake water, the droplets leaving beads of water to stain the blue of her dress.

Uhtred looked away from his pregnant wife and glanced across the woods. Reaching a hand, he took the small twig from between his teeth, allowing the room to speak. "There's a scar across the land — there," he then stretched his arm outwards, pointing in the distance. "The never ending line of Danes on the march."

Tilting his head, he eyed the stote carefully through the glare of sunlight. "Oswald, what town lays in that direction?"

Oswald looked away from the lord in thought. "If they keep going to the west, in a day or so they'll come to the fortress, at Werham."