𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 –
ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.
ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ – ɢʟᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ

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DAYLIGHT PLASTERED THE SKY
in a haze of silver and pale blue, wrapped the earth in a wet blanket of cold that traced the ground in a thinning, melting sheet of ice. The sun slowly rose to the surface, bringing a subtle warmth along with its touch – it glowed between the yellowing tendrils of dying grass, illuminating the dried out edges of the field.

The smell of night gave way to dusk, and it melted from Freyja's nose as she brought a cloth to her face and gently dried the water from her cheeks.

She thought about the night in passing, about what she'd seen and heard, what she said. Seeing Sven, it brought back something familiar, an anger bubbling within her.

It would have been so easy to kill him right there and then – but that would leave Kjartan, and he would surely know it was them despite how little his son tended to use his brain.

And then that would leave the fate of Thyra beyond their reach.

A splash of water summoned behind her as she felt the droplets rain across her back from Uhtred's purposeful splash. She could feel the way he looked across her in concern without even having to glance towards him. She could feel it, like a heavy weight on her back.

She heard the light breath in his lips, felt the shift of his feet within the low dying grass. "What did you see?" She was a fool to believe that he wouldn't notice, a foolish hope.

The moment she saw whatever it was she had seen, Uhtred had immediately took note of the way she stilled, the horror that crossed her face even behind the skull masking. Somehow, they seemed to constantly be aware of eachothers emotions, like a string tethering their lives together.

Uhtred had first begun to notice it when he was at the farmstead with Iseult and Mildrith – that day, he had been struck with a horrible feeling, like a weight on his chest – and he had arrived to Wessex only to receive news that Freyja had been taken prisoner.

"I didn't see anything." She replied quickly, curtly, her eyes giving a faraway look as she traced along the horizon. Her fingers pinched almost immediately and her hands shyly dove beneath the furs of her cloak. Hidden away, she felt the sharp press of her nails.

Uhtred risked a step closer, his eyes staring down at her hunched over frame where she sat on the cold, earthly floor. "Freyja, do not lie to me." He was not unfamiliar with grief – he knew his sister bared it like a dark hovering cloud, a constant.

He understood why. He understood her pain – If only she would just speak to him instead of shutting herself away.

Freyja lifted her chin, her jaw set. Her calm gaze locked with the cerulean of his eyes, the dark pools of his pupils. "I didn't see anything." She repeated slowly, as if he were a child and she needed to brake down a sentence for him to properly understand. She paused between each word.

She did not see anything, rather a figment of her imagination, a warped and disoriented image her mind had conjured forth to taunt her.

𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍWhere stories live. Discover now