𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 - ʙᴇᴀᴍꜰʟᴇᴏᴛ.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 -
ʙᴇᴀᴍꜰʟᴇᴏᴛ.
ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ - ɢʟᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ

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THEY WERE TOO LATE.
The camp had already been ransacked. Attack. Maimed and torn down to nothing but billowing smoke, gusts of it coiling a dark grey into the air.

There was not a soul in sight. No Dane's, no Aelthelflaed, no Thyra. No one. Not a single living, breathing person alive. No one that wasn't already dead and waiting to rot away into the unforgiving earth.

Her heartbeat leaped inside her chest, the rhythm coming to a lingering still as it jumped into her throat.

Her eyes scanned as far and as wide as she could, hoping, praying to the gods above to see a head of red hair - alive or dead, it was better than not knowing.

Her boots slipped out from the stirrups and her leg swung above, allowing for her body to slide on down from the mares back. She didn't stop to brush her hand against the horse, to kiss the Mares cheek like she had always done as a show of her appreciation.

She took a few weary steps forward, her lips parting with words that couldn't seem to formulate, until finally, the restraint on her mind snapped and her voice strung together. "Thyra!"

Beocca followed quickly behind her, his eyes wide, his face unsettled. "Thyra!"

"Lady aelthelflaed!" Steapa shouted moments after, his feet carrying him towards another direction, trailing further and further from the priest and the dane.

"Thyra!" Freyja shouted louder, her face pinching with something bitter. She turned her head from left to right, gazing through the tents, over the bodies that lay at her feet. She walked in the direction of the tree's - Thyra was smart, she would head for the woods in order to lose the Danes.

"Thyra!" Beoccas voice cracked with fear, catching in his throat, his eyes sweeping with the threat of incoming tears. "Please be alive. Please be alive."

"Lady Aelthelflaed!"

Uhtred's eyes swelled with sadness, with grief and guilt as he and Finan slid down from the horses. His lips shook with unease.

"Thyra!" Freyja called out, her voice beginning to strain with worry. She stepped over a corpse, her eyes falling upon a head of red hair pocked with blood.

Quickly, she rushed over, stepping over the woman as carefully as she could before dropping to her knees. Gently, she peeled back the bloody strands to reveal the woman's face. Freyja's shoulders dropped in relief.

It wasn't Thyra.

"We'll find her." Finan spoke, standing over the woman and Freyja with his arms respectfully crossed in front of him, fingers woven around his wrist. "We will."

"Beocca!" A voice shouted into the open, erupted from the trees that loomed like a bad omen, sounding an awful lot like Thyra's strained, panicked voice.

Freyja's head snapped up, her eye's tearing away from the corpse of the woman. Relief pooled her expression, consuming it completely as she found her sister rushing out from the woods.

She stood to her feet but did not move an inch from her place as Thyra ran straight for Beocca.

"Beocca!"

"Thyra!" The priest shouted with a relieving laugh, his face becoming red with tears as he ran towards his wife, meeting her half way and caving into her arms.