Wolf Warrior (The Mórrigan's Wolf, Part 2) The Last Kingdom Fanfiction

39 - Darkened Horizon

"I will have to inform my husband that this will be the last child I carry," Gisela huffed grumpily. "This is becoming intolerable!"

With a soft chuckle, Faoladhean smiled at Gisela. "What is?" She shifted a sleeping Eithne to cradle her in the other arm.

"Just the entire act of carrying a child," Gisela wearily replied. "I swear this one is bigger already than Young Uhtred and Stiorra were at the same point, and I am not looking forward to birthing a larger babe - the other two were large enough!"

"And the frequency with which you and Uhtred hump," Faoladhean giggled, "how will ye prevent another bairn?"

"Oh, I have my ways," Gisela smiled, and if Faoladhean didn't know better, she would have said the look on her face was almost devious.

Faoladhean chuckled as she understood Gisela's irritation, and shook her head gently. "I will take your word for it. Ye have a good knowledge of the herbs."

The door to the hall being flung open caused both women to turn toward it, hearing upset crying following the movement.

"Oh, this does not sound happy," Gisela muttered as they watched the boys come tumbling through the door. Gisela pushed to her feet and cradled her belly when Young Uhtred stumbled inside the door, crying and with blood dripping down his chin. "What happened?"

Aodhán and Cuilén both paused just inside the doorway, their eyes downcast; Aodhán fidgeted with the hem of his tunic. Faoladhean stood and approached them as Gisela called out to Signy for a clean rag while looking over her son.

"Boys, what happened?" Though her voice was stern, Faoladhean was calm. She looked between Aodhán and Cuilén, watching them both shift uncomfortably. "Aodhán?"

"It was an accident, Ma!" Aodhán looked up at her, his eyes beginning to shimmer.

"What was? What happened between ye?"

"We were playing with our swords, an-and Cuilén pushed me, a-and my sword hit him in the mouth! I told him it was an accident, but then there was b-blood, and then he started crying and ran, and we followed him!" Aodhán looked to where Young Uhtred was standing with Gisela knelt before him, dabbing at the blood on his noticeably swollen lip, and his voice raised in pitch, almost sounding frantic. "I am sorry, Uhtred! I did not mean for it to happen!"

Gisela tutted softly as she looked over the injury. "It is just a split lip, thankfully." She glanced up at Faoladhean with a relieved smile, then looked at Aodhán. "He will be fine."

Young Uhtred sniffled slightly, holding a cool, wet cloth to his lip as tear tracks dried, having left pale streaks down his dirty cheeks. "May I go back outside with them?"

"You may," Gisela smiled warmly, "but everyone be more careful, hm?"

Aodhán and Cuilén nodded solemnly, both perfectly contrite. Faoladhean gave Aodhán a pointed look. "Da and I have always told ye that a wooden sword should always be treated with the same care as steel. I ken this was an accident, but now ye see how quickly an accident can happen."

Cuilén looked at the floor. "I am sorry for playing so carelessly."

Faoladhean stepped closer to the boys and placed a hand on Cuilén's shoulder. "It is all right, Cuilén. Consider it a lesson learned, and there is no need for more apologies." Cuilén nodded as he sheepishly glanced up at her. "Now, ye go on and play until the men all come back." Aodhán hesitated for a moment, his dark eyes still sad. Faoladhean bent down before him and put her hand on his shoulder. "What is wrong, mo stórin?"

Aodhán shifted his weight from foot to foot before looking at Faoladhean through his long, dark eyelashes. "I..." his gaze dropped once more before he continued. "How can I be a warrior one day if injuring someone feels so awful?"