Moon-Heart | The Last Kingdom |

26.

The world went mute for a moment. Alone in a field of bodies, with smoke starting to fill the air, all the little Mercian could do was cry. Cry for her mother, sister, father, cry for herself. They'd be alone now, the worst of what Aldhelm feared for his little one. Himself was alone in the world for so long, lost not knowing what to do. While Aldhelm had found his guiding light, in Aethelflaed and defending Mercia, himself was Saehild's. What was she to do now. She had no desire to know a world without him. Regardless of how old she got, Aldehlm is--was her protector. He saved her from Lunden, saved her from Aethelred, saved her from a life of coldness. As a small girl, it was her dream to stand at his side, leading Mercia to greatness. It was all she ever wished for. She still had so much more to learn from him. The rank of second-in-command was just only thrown upon her. The title came with so much more, then simply just being the lord's daughter. Saehild still wanted to learn the ways of the Mercian army, but that chance was gone now. Maybe this life without him would be worth it. Everything would be different. Life itself would have a different meaning. Saehild couldn't tell if she wanted to live through that.

"Saehild!" the call echoed through the air, "Saehild!"

Hearing her name, the lady's head slowly rose, coming back to her senses. Blinking away the tears, and squinting to the distance, the blurry image became clear. Stiorra was standing a few meters from her. Even from the distance, the Danish Queen could see how red and puffy Saehild's eyes were. She had lost the last person she had left, sadly something that the Dane could relate to. Following Stiorra's sight, Saehild saw what she was trying to bring attention to. The fortress was birthing flames that spread fiercely. Poor Uhtred, his home was turning to ashes. With all of the blood shed, all of the people lost, the fortress seemed to just fall right in place. Overhead, dense dark cloud came rolled over, causing the two to look up. The instant cold made hairs stand. Thunder started to rumble the air, halting the fighting. Slowly standing, Saehild kept the sword in hand, not taking her eyes off the sky.

Drip, Drip, Drip. The rain, it came swiftly.

The men cheering victoriously across the land. Lady Saehild squinted her eyes to avoid the rainfall. As the cold drops touched her biting skin, it was like steam as flowing off. Fighting the rain she allowed her self to close her eyes and relish in the darkness. She could feel every ache in her muscles. From the burning sensation in her boots, the sun warmed metal in her hand, to her chest rising and falling at a steady rate. How was this possible? The Saxons had won. Bebbanburg had won.

**************************

Tracking through the downpour, Saehild tried to keep her head held high. Her family may be gone, but she still had people who cared for her, and who she cared for. Staring upon the castle, a small relief came over her. The fire was out and the fortress was saved, Bebbanburg would stand strong as it had done for ages. Whilst, this was a good sign, a deep hole still remained in her heart. The hole would remain with her forever, that was certain. Eventually the lady would learn to live on, but learning was the hard part.

Hastily, out the gates came Aethelstan. Quickly he searched around to find others who might still be. Spotting Saehild, he ran reaching out to her. Colliding, Saehild held onto the boy, leaning her head on his shoulder. He was alive, he was alive hugging her like he'd always wanted to. Pulling back, he smiled at her, happy to have the victory and his beloved back in hand. But the smile was dropped, seeing the sadness in her face. Picking up her hands, Aethelstan had started to assume what had happened.

He brought one of his hands to rest on Saehild's waist, and the other moving the wet hair that stuck to her cheeks, "Saehild?"

"He's gone." she sniffled, "I cou--I can't find him."

"Oh Saehild." Aethelstan cradled her head.

The pair stood there, like they were the only two people in the world. Aethelstan let Saehild cry into his shoulder, as he rubbed circles around her shoulders. Bring her free hand to his shoulder, Saehild curled her fingers into the chain mail. With everything good, came something horrible. Aethelstan offered any comfort that she may want or need. He understood how the world may look at them as a proper Lord and Lady now, but he knew deep down that they were still children really. All they wanted was for someone to tell them it was going to be fine, even when it wasn't. He'd be that person for Saehild. He'd always be there for her. Always.