The Last Kingdom imagines

Alfred imagine

The trope she requested was 'meet ugly'.

Warnings: none

After your father's death, who had been a not so influential ealdorman, you had inherited his lands, due to the fact that you were the only relative that was still alive.
It wasn't usual that a woman owned a patch of land, but after your husband, a horridly old and thickle man, died suddenly while enjoying his dinner you were left alone, to rule over the few people that lived in your village.
You hadn't been prepared for it, but you found a way to manage the lands.
What you had problems with was the bandits and highwaymen that found their way towards your lands, and that had terrorized and plundered several homes of your subjects already.
You had thought of everything you could do, but the only option you really had was ask the King for help.
So you had written several letters, but none of them was even answered.
You had heard nothing of the man that had promised to protect all the Saxon people and that had the wish to build a united England, saying that it was for the safety of the different small or big lands.
You had cursed him internally many times, not believing his hypocritically pious sermons for just a second.
He was just yet another man that was too ambitious for his own good.
When a messenger reached your hall, telling you that King Alfred need all warriors he could get you almost laughed him in the face.
You had a few old senile men that barely even remembered how to hold a weapon, which you needed to slay the bandits that were impending on your lands.
Even though your lands lay exactly in between Winchester and Ethandun, and Alfred rode to Ethandun, to meet the heathens under Guthrum in battle.
You were too unimportant to have the possibility that the army would pass exactly through your lands, and you were glad about it.
When your guard, the handful of younger men you had in your lands, informed that a large number of riding warriors were headed towards your gates you were both shocked and annoyed.
Nevertheless you had graciously opened the gates, inviting the army of Wessex men into your home.
You would be lying if you said you didn't prepare for their arrival when you saw them, changing into an almost warrior like outfit consisting of leather trousers and breastplate that accentuated your female curves perfectly.
You had long found a way to sit on your throne that looked both somehow disinterested and regal, which you had often used to intimidate the men that didn't feel like a woman could rule over them.
You were sat in that position as you waited for the doors to the small throne room to open, to get a look at the King that had entirely ignored your existence until he needed your help.
When the doors opened you caught a glimpse at the King, and your heart beat faster.
He was the perfect height, neither too small not too tall, slim but muscular, his dark hair standing in perfect harmony with the dark red leather he was wearing.
His crown looked almost pretentious, placed on his dark hair to make something special out of the slim man in the midst of muscule-packed warriors, and it worked well.
As soon as he entered the room you could feel his air filling the room, bursting with unspoken energy that showed just why there were so many legends and stories about the pious King.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw one of your warriors step forward, a boy that looked almost ill because of the amount of zits that were littering his face.
"The King Alfred of Wessex, m'lady", he announced the already present man that had by now stepped into the middle of the hall, surrounded by a handful of his closest men.
"Yes, I know, Anfeald, thank you", you answered as you watched the King, who in turn had his gaze trained on you.
"Welcome to my lands, Lord-King", you said, raising your eyebrows in an almost mocking way as you looked down at him.
It was an almost hostile situation, without weapons being drawn.
"Thank you", you heard the King's gentle voice, that sounded like he would have made an extraordinarily popular priest.
You knew you certainly would have loved to listen to his sermons.
His voice was like honey, but it seemed harsher than that, maybe more like a pool of honey in which grown men could drown.
"You have not heard our call?", he asked you as he stepped a bit further towards you, a cold look in his eyes that almost made you grin.
"No, I have", you answered, earning a surprised look by him.
"We were requesting men from your lands as well, but none came", he said, his voice now even more monotonous, and almost threateningly low.
"I was expecting help from you as well. Help that never came", you answered, and the surprised look on his face transformed to one of realization, his eyes squinting slightly and his lips pressed together into one thin line.
"You were the lady that requested men to help fend against a group of burglars", he realized, and you nodded once, staring at him blankly.
"When we didn't hear from you we thought the matters were settled", he said swiftly, and you couldn't even call it a lie.
"When you didn't hear from me after my fith letter I decided that no help would come from Wessex, and that if Wessex needed help I wouldn't play any part in it", you answered, your voice sounding through the hall with authority, and you could see the handful of your men agreeing with you, nodding.
The few small mumbles of agreement ebbed down and silence settled in the hall again, embracing you into the hostile atmosphere yet again.
"It does not give you the right to withhold your arms from your King", you heard the King's authoritative voice roam through your halls, and you glared at him.
"I have every right", you answered him, raising your voice and waiting for a response from him.
None came, and so you continued on.
"I will grant you and your men a bed to stay in and a shelter for the night, alongside with food and ale, but you will leave in the morning, without my men", you spoke loudly, and though your King neither nodded nor showed any sign that he had understood what you had said you knew that he had.
After your rather uncomfortable first conversation with the King you asked your cooks and the women in your village to cook for the men that would be dining with you.
It were a lot, and you apologized greatly to the women, but you couldn't change the fact.
You had a feast, talking just barely to your guests before you went to sleep early.
You didn't like having strangers in your home, and certainly not the King that had simply let wild men terrorize your people.
Lying in bed you still couldn't stop procrastinating, thinking about how you must have gotten off on the wrong foot with the King of Wessex, the man you had heard so much about.
Getting up from your bed you decided to take a walk through the wooden longhouse that served as throne room, great hall, bedroom to the reigning family and a few guest bedrooms, in which you now had snoring Saxon warriors.
It was a habit of yours, wandering around your halls at night, just your nightgown covering your body, and no person in sight.
You took your time wandering the hallways until you reached the door, opening it and stepping outside into the crisp cold air.
Hearing someone clear their throat you turned your head, only to find the King of Wessex glancing at you from a few steps away.
He was also only clad in a nightgown, and whereas you shamefully turned your head away his eyes remained on you.
"Another restless soul?", he asked you softly and you nodded your head.
You didn't seem that hostile anymore and he looked almost sickly pale, his polished clothes and crown changed for nothing more than a not so shapely cloth that fell down his body.
"I am sorry for impending on you like that", he told you and you nodded.
He wasn't a selfless man but he tried to be a good one, and so you understood that he was uncomfortable with barging in on you with a whole army to feed.
"I cannot give you any men", you answered truthfully, and he watched you curiously.
"Even if I wanted to. I do not have any, those I do have are old and sickly or too young, and I need them for the burglars you decided to not help me with", you told him, and he nodded.
"I understand, and I respect your decision", he answered you as he stepped closer, and you decided to look at him.
He didn't look as authoritative as before, he looked gentle, with a gentle look in his eyes that rested on you, and you sent him a fleeting smile as response.
You continued to talk a bit, making conversation with a low voice, and you began to understand each other further.
The next morning you woke up to find his army ready to leave, and you went to wish him farewell.
He was kind, giving you a gentle respectful nod, and you smiled back at him, nodding as well.
You wished him farewell and good luck in battle, and when you watched him ride away you felt a hole in your chest, you felt empty on a level you hadn't felt in a while.
In the few minutes you had talked to the King, no, to the man behind the King, you had learned to love and respect him more than you had any other man before.
When you returned to your throne room you frowned as you saw men from the King's guard standing in the middle of the hall.
When you stepped forward they bowed to you, telling you that their Lord had left them to be at your service, however you would want them to work.
A smile spread on your face as you heard the men speak.
The King had left you the help you had originally requested, and you just hoped he would come back to rest in your lands after battle.