currently doing a charcoal facemask and am absolutely dreading taking it off lmao
UPDATE i took it off just before publishing it and it was the most painful but cathartic experience omg i love it and my skin is so soft holy
no pain no gain woo
thank you for 5k mine lieblings & enjoy x
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OK i am writing another update to this note forgive me
BASICALLY i've just finished writing sin in my drafts and have begun writing a new finan fic called belladonna and if you would like to check it out, please do :) i think the OC is quite different to morwenna cos this new chick is a fuckin crazy bitch ngl
it says coming 2019 in the epigraph but i intend to get the prologue and all that out before then it just depends on how it works bc i have mocks in the next few weeks
ANYWAY i'll let u get on enjoy this chapter
xox
word count; 2213
Morwenna
Home. It was a word that had such meaning to all that knew it. Everyone, even the Danes, associated somewhere warm, kind and loving with the word home. It was subjective to your own experience but the concept of home was something universal within the world, no matter differing religions or genders.
But it was upon spring morn' that I found myself thinking of a peculiar question. Was my home Wessex or Mercia? I had always regarded myself as Mercian and my estates within it as my home, but I had not been there in so long. I had forgotten what it even looked like and now I felt drawn to Wessex, likely out of feeling for Finan. I had survived, victorious of one battle, but another was beginning. A long struggle, an internal conflict that I felt sure would be all the more challenging than the last.
I came to consciousness slowly, like when you wake after a long sleep but do not wish to instantly begin your day. Lying there, allowing yourself to slowly wake without fear of others needing you. It was blissful contentment that I granted myself; I had not slept much the past few months and felt I deserved some kind of long sleep. Finan clearly disagreed, as he made clear by beginning to speak.
"My sweet, sweet Morwenna. I cannot lose you. Please, Morwenna. I cannot." His voice spoke. "I pledged myself to you. My heart to you. Don't abandon me now, after all that we've faced."
"I think that's a risk you're going to have to take, Irishman," I whispered from laboured breaths, opening my eyes. Finan sat next to me with one arm under me. I was in his arms, content, though the pain was never-ending. I could've died peacefully, there and then. But that was not what my duty was. And I had to fulfil my duty. We were in the middle of the Saxon camp still but my bed was covered fully, one slip of the tent lying down. Each time I had woken, it was open, but not now. Likely as a result of my hallucinations.
"Is that you, Morwenna?" Finan's voice was cracked from grief and emotion. I let out a giggle but winced immediately, realising the pain that it caused.
"Who else would it be?" I teased, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Perhaps you were expecting a prettier, kinder, more obedient woman," I said.
"I prefer your stubbornness," He winked, reassuring me. "Though for a time, there was a knife-wielding, fever inflicted girl who has taken a liking to stabbing herself." He teased. I groaned,
"She's gone... for now," I said, jesting with him. My breath hitched a little as a jolt of pain shot up my stomach, causing Finan to become tensed, more concerned, but I shook my head. "She won't return, not for a while, I'm sure."
"Hopefully never," Finan muttered. "Sihtric certainly had something to say about it,"
"What do you mean?" I questioned, unable to decipher the meaning behind his words.
"How did you think we got you calm again?" Finan smirked, jesting with me
I sighed, remembering the pain on the back of my head. "What did he hit me with?" I frowned. My head ached from the drama of it all; it was more than I had experienced in months.
"His bowl." He grinned, "He hasn't eaten out of it since."
"Yes, well, my head does not thank him. He hit me twice, I think it is likely I will develop a brain fever of some sort." I murmured. "What exactly have I been doing, Finan?"
"You've been talking to people for hours on end, Morwenna. You were delusional. Osferth thought the devil had possessed you and that we needed to perform an exorcism." Finan paused. "You said Thorfinn was here to take you to hell."
"He was here, Finan," I said. "He may have been a ghost but he was here."
"A ghost?" He asked, confusion painting his face. Oh, that face. I had missed it so dearly. I had forgotten the little hairs that lined his beard, or the tiny gap between the bottom of his moustache and the beginning of his upper lip. His eyes had a small, tiny speck of contrasting colour that I had forgotten. Oh, how I had missed the Irishman. My Irishman.
I nodded slowly, "He is dead," I admitted, feeling guilt swarm me. "I... I killed him." I said. Finan gave me a knowing look and I knew he understood. "But he was here, Finan, I felt it." I persisted.
Finan nodded slowly. "It is the fever."
"It was him." I insisted on it in a stern tone. "I know it."
There was a silence before I spoke again. "Finan,"
"Morwenna?"
"Would you just stay with me, for a while. I.. I do not feel safe in truth and at this moment I lack the ability to defend myself. Just talk to me, Finan."
"I will always be with you, Morwenna, even if my body is not."
I settled in his arms and listened to him speak softly, telling me of the most random things. From gossip to the politics of Winchester. I felt myself drift in and out of sleep but he remained each time I woke, still chattering about the most obscure topic. I was thankful. If I survived, I would thank him a thousand times over. I loved him wholeheartedly and he knew it. He was my home and I was his.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
It was not long before the men were to go to battle. The men trotted about as they awaited their fates, praying, talking and doing many other things that were akin to that.
I remained bed bound. I was more conscious than previously but my fever had not broken. I was awake most of the night and if I was not, I was soon woken from a night terror. Finan refused to leave my side so that, when I did wake, screaming and crying, he would be there to comfort me, to reassure me, to remind me that all was well; it was just a dream.
But not all was well.
I could feel my wound festering and getting progressively worse. Osferth told me that I must be getting better as my fever had broken but I disagreed. I was no better than when I arrived.
"Do you think I will die, Finan?" I asked, staring up at the sky. I heard him move to look at me, likely out of surprise at my words.
"You can't die," He reminded me. "You've only just returned to me."
"But what if God wishes to have me?" I asked, sighing. "Is it right to deny him?"
"God wouldn't take a good woman before her time," Finan said it as if he was so sure, so utterly certain of God's plan for us. I could neither tell if it was a confidence that I could neither understand nor possess or whether he was just trying to reassure me to the best of his ability.
I glanced up at him and shook my head, "I killed my husband, Finan. I don't think I am a good woman. Not now."
Finan moved his finger through my thick hair, avoiding eye contact. "He was not your husband, Morwenna." His words were stern and harsh but well meant. "You are not a sinner, Morwenna. You're the most religious woman I know."
"I would hope you don't know that many women, Finan," I chuckled lightly. "I shall visit a priest. Beocca, perhaps."
"You do not need to; you know in your heart tha' you did no wrong." Finan sighed in a frustrated manner.
"Finan, please," I said. "I must do this, if only for closure."
He nodded slowly, "He is here. I can fetch him if you wish," Finan spoke. I shook my head and rested against him, sighing lightly.
"I would rather spend what time I have left with you."
"What time you have left? Jesus, You're not dying, Morwenna." He arched a brow and sighed exasperatedly. I giggled,
"Or more so, what time you have left with me before battle."
"That's more like it." He winked joyously. I nodded slowly,
"I have missed you, Finan," I admitted. "And I will tell you in time of Denmark. But for now, please, just stay with me. Just for a small while."
He nodded, putting his arm around me protectively. "I'd never leave you, Morwenna."
"I know," I whispered. "I know, and I am glad of it. But you are neither my protector nor my husband, Finan. You have no legal ability to even help me out of this situation."
"Did we not say we were goin' to change that?" He grinned cheekily. I nodded, unable to suppress a smile at the thought.
"Would you still marry a sinful woman, Finan?"
He tilted his head and winked, "I'd marry the devil if it meant I was with you."
"Lovely." I murmured, frowning at the thought of Finan married to the devil. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."
"Yes. Let's."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I could hear Edward's rousing speech from my bed. The men had gathered in their formations to listen to him before they headed to battle and Finan with them. Osferth, thankfully, promised he would stay behind with me. After what happened to Aethelflaed, being taken from the camp, I did not wish to be defenceless. Finan, in his best intentions, argued he should be the one to stay, but that was simply not right. He had to go fight the Danes with Uhtred and Sihtric. I would be fine with Osferth, I knew it in my heart. He provided me with conversation and laughter; both of which would take my mind away from the commencing battle.
I had spoken with Beocca but an hour earlier to try and find some closure, but it was a mere failure. I only reiterated my own guilt. Along with my ever-festering wound, I felt there were large issues at hand, but I could not focus on them now. Finan would soon be gone.
I could see him approaching with trepidation. He looked sad, likely because we were to be separated. I opened my arms and held them out, waiting for him. Finan leant down and gave me a tight embrace, planting a small kiss behind my ear.
"I feel as if I'm abandoning you." He admitted with such sorrow in his voice I thought it would make me become tearful.
"You're not," I reassured him. He shook his head,
"After all that time apart, I don't want to leave you ever again. Especially not now, when you're stuck in this bed like a trapped demon.
I giggled lightly, "It is but one battle, Finan. Think of me as you fight and I am sure it will feel as if I am right there, with you."
"I am not sure I'd want you on a battlefield with me, Morwenna," Finan said, letting out a breathy chuckled.
"Perhaps not." I jested. We both glanced in the direction of the sounding horn and knew, deep down, that he had to go whether he liked it or not. "I shall see you when you return, my love. This is not goodbye and you know this."
"You've grown wise in your age, woman." Finan teased me as ever. I giggled lightly and shook my head,
"I am a changed woman."
And so, the men went to battle. Finan went to battle. I knew he was a skilled swordsman and thus I had little to fear; he would not die in battle. But in the back of my head, I remained frantic with fear of it. If he died, if I died, we would never see each other again. That was something of such permanency I could not accept it.
Alas, we had been reunited but one day. It felt as if he would be gone forever.