The Last Kingdom Imagines

Betrothed to a Dane

"You will and you must! It is in the best interest of the future of Wessex!" Barked my father angrily, as he paced the room with his arms folded behind his back and his head shaking back and forth in exasperation. I watch him carefully, with each passing second the grey hair on his head only seems to whiten greater whilst he stresses over my unwillingness to cooperate.

"Think of this union as a duty to God and to the King! I have worked hard all these years to become the right hand of King Alfred, to build a bond with him, to ensure that my only daughter grow to become of use to him in creating a strong Wessex!" I stand up from my bed, flattening the cloth of my dress with my fingers. Before responding, I sigh, "Father, I understand your's and the King's wish for a strong Wessex, but why must I be handed to some strange Dane?" My father now stops his pacing to stand across from me. "You must do so to keep the peace!" He shouts. "Not only so, the man to whom you are to marry will be of great use to King Alfred's army. This man is a great warrior and is to show us how to kill off the Danes who threaten Wessex." He explains as calmly as his voice can become.

I hear my father's words, but I just can't seem to comprehend why I must be the one to bring together this alliance. Why must it be ME? So I ask once more, "Again Father, I understand! But why must this be MY duty to the King and Wessex?"

My father now extends his arms and places his hands on my shoulders. "Because," He starts, "You are the most suitable and eligible among the other young women of Wessex. You are prime in your youthful age and beauty." Looking in my eyes he continues saying, "You are a fair trade for a Dane who is to provide us with his knowledge of battle. How is he to refuse you?" A smirk of pride pulls at my father's lips.

I look down to the floor and lace my fingers together in nervousness. I did not like the idea of being traded to a Dane, or being sold for battle tactics. Yes, I can agree that this union will be useful for the future of Wessex, but what of my own future? I did not want to be betrothed to a fat, old, smelly Dane! I have had dreams of my own Prince Charming once, that I had built together in my mind since I was a small girl. I imagined my Prince Charming to be handsome, strong but gentle, brave, and kind to me. But now, I have no chance or choice in the matter of Prince Charmings. I guess some dreams aren't meant to be had.

My trailing thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the door of my room being pushed open, with handmaidens scurrying in. "Excellent!" My father chimes as the handmaidens walk through the door with numerous things in their hands. "Today you will have some of the Queen's finest handmaidens to prepare you for the wedding ceremony." My eyes grow wide. "Wait, " I panic aloud, "What? Now? Today?" I question whilst my heart races. My father begins to leave the room. He stops to stand at the door frame to respond, "Yes," He states steadily.  "You will meet your husband in the King's chapel in exactly one hours time!" He commands. With that my father is gone, leaving me in complete and utter shock. I take a seat back on my bed, losing the sturdiness in my knees. The last handmaiden finally scurries in holding a wedding gown fit enough for a royal princess.

My hands begin to feel clammy as I stand in front of the large wooden door of the King's chapel. Inside would be seated King Alfred and his wife the queen at his side. The priest would be standing at the end of the room, upon the alter, and beside him... my Dane- Husband. I feel a tug at my arm that is laced in expensive wedding fabric. Holding onto my arm, my father leans in to whisper in my ear. "Do not look too sad, my Dear," He says. "Smile, for your frowning will displease your husband." My mouth begins to dry and my throat feels like sandpaper with every swallow of nerves. "Whilst repeating your wedded vows," My father reminds, "Remember that this is for the good of God, the King, and Wessex!" He chimes in contentment, smiling, as if having no problem with giving away his only daughter to a Dane.