Aelswyn and the Angels

Chapter Five - Traditions

876 AD, HRAEFENGEAT (Ravensgate), WIGHTSHIRE, ENGLAND

As Aely ascended the tower stairs leading up to her family’s private living quarters, her feet were light, almost as if she were floating. She sensed power crackling through her not her own. It was as if his essence reached out to hers and was trying to draw her back down the steps and into the great hall, where he was. The steady rhythm of his heart beating told her his level of excitement at their encounter, but she still couldna hear his thoughts, nor sense what he was feeling.

Trystyn was certainly more handsome than she had thought he would be, and Aely found herself daydreaming. His eyes had been what had mesmerized her at the tree, so she handa noticed his face as she should have, and he had looked so gaunt and pale when she had healed him. With his sleek black hair properly combed and clad in his best attire of dark indigo and tight black breeches of the finest quality, he was devastatingly handsome. Gone was the hollowness, replaced by a vibrant complexion and a thoroughly healthy pallor. Those blue, blue eyes only enhanced his dark masculine beauty.

Before she knew it, Aelswyn had arrived at the door to the solar. It was a room filled with simple elegance and vast comfort where she and her family had passed many a day, enjoying each other’s company. She learned to embroider and sew in this room, and many of the tapestries adorning the walls were completed by her hand. The numerous pillows on the oversize setl matched the red and gold tapestries, and were arrayed in many colors. Seated on the setl with his feet propped up on a small stool in front of him, was her father. She took a moment and allowed herself to probe his mind, but he frowned, and she knew she had been caught.

“Sit, dottir.” Olaf spoke in a gentle voice. “’Tis time I prepared ye for what ’tis to come.”

“Aye, Faðir.” She settled herself against the pillows of the setl and mentally tried to prepare herself for a good dressing down. Although she could sense his calm, she couldna tell if he was going to lecture her without first entering his mind.

Olaf silently watched his daughter, wondering what she was thinking and feeling, and not for the first time, wishing he had her gifts, if only for one moment. He wanted to get into her head just this once. He knew his Aely girl, and understood that there was more to her behavior than at first appeared. A slight frown marred her tiny features and he was reminded just how young she still was. He was a giant of a man, but somehow, his daughter made him feel quite the opposite. He was going to miss her sorely.

“Aely, ‘tis no important to scold ye now, so ease yourself. I am no’ going to yell at ye.” He made his voice as soft as it could go without mumbling, just the way he had when she was a babe and needed calming. A small smile formed on her face, and his spirits lifted. He couldna bear to see his little girl in any sort of torment; real or imagined. He had been so angry when he had seen the state of herself and Trystyn. Gaedwyn had defused some of his temper, and his beautiful wife the rest, until there was no anger left. Only then, had he felt able to talk to Aely without frightening her. She had enough to worry about without her father being angry at her, too.

“Whilst I dinna like what ye did, and I canna understand what ye are so afeared for, I know ye, Aely girl.” Olaf brushed his hand through his hair and sighed. It appeared to Aely as if her father had a heavy weight on his shoulders from what he held inside.

“Faðir, I…” Aely began, but was cut off when Olaf spoke once again.

“Nay, girl, ‘tis past time ye learned of the world outside of Hraefengeat.”

“I am truly afeared to leave ye, Faðir.” She fiddled with her fingernails and glanced at her father nervously. His heart melted.

“I have been lax with your training as a lady befitting court, dottir, as I was hoping to keep ye from there, but alas, I was wrong to do so.  I am wondering how ye will handle the power inside ye around so many people who arena familiar wi’ ye.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he spoke, and Aely was touched at his tenderness. This man, who sired her, was a tower of strength and she had never seen him so emotional. She thought, perhaps, he might miss her. She had thought she lost his affection with her impulsive deeds, and was grateful for his tender approach.