A/N: And at the end is where we finally diverge from canon.
Leofric barely has time to feel relief when he sees Uhtred; it's a brief swelling surge, cut short as Uhtred pushes Odda to the ground, sword to his neck. Leofric draws his own sword and approaches.
Uhtred feels the touch of steel against his neck and instantly freezes.
"Lord, you will take your blade away from my Lord, and you will do it now," Leofric says. He is commanding – in this moment he has no choice but to protect Odda, not Uhtred – yet he adds, "Arseling," as a gentle, more personal warning.
Uhtred does not immediately move away, so Leofric continues, attempting to appeal to him, rather than threaten him. "You have my word that neither Mildrith nor your son have been harmed. I swear. Do as I ask," he pleads, though his voice is controlled. He's not sure what to do if Uhtred doesn't move – luckily he doesn't have to find out.
Slowly, Uhtred removes his sword from Odda's neck and rises to his feet. Leofric keeps his own sword against Uhtred's neck as he reaches forward to take the offending weapon, before finally lowering his own.
"You are back from the dead and unchanged," Leofric states incredulously, once Odda has departed.
Uhtred tips his head back, perhaps in a gesture of frustration, as Leofric teases him, though his voice holds a note of warning. "All you had to do was get down from your horse and ask 'Have you seen my wife?'" He hands Uhtred his sword back, willing him to meet his eyes.
Instead, Uhtred turns from him. "That would have been the better choice, yes," he admits. Leofric can hear the smirk in his voice when he adds, "But then Young Odda wouldn't have shit himself."
He turns, and at last Leofric can see the smile on his face – in his eyes. They share a laugh, pulling each other close. When they draw apart, Leofric's hand rests on Uhtred's arm for a brief moment longer, revelling in the feel of him; the fact he is still here.
Uhtred's eyes are earnest as his concerns return to his family. "You've seen her? She's well?" he asks.
"She is well." Leofric confirms. The smile slides off his face. "The child however..."
Uhtred's face drops. "Sickly," he states in fear.
"Ugly," Leofric says with a mock-serious expression.
An amused smile crosses Uhtred's face. "Like his father," he says teasingly.
Leofric shakes his head. "Worse. And with the smallest of pebbles for a penis," he smiles cheekily.
"Like his father," Uhtred supplies.
He dips his head in acknowledgment, laughing with Uhtred as he playfully punches him.
"If you wish to see him for yourself Arseling, I say you leave the way you came," Leofric says, returning to business. Uhtred's smile slips off his face. "I'm serious, we are stuck on this hill and here we will die." His voice flat and hard, but he is not worried, merely stating the facts – merely trying to protect Uhtred once again, and get him far away from here.
Uhtred looks away, clearly torn by the thought of leaving. Leofric can barely bring himself to wonder if he is torn by the thought of leaving him. "What does Odda say?" he asks.
"Odda is a decent man. But as a warrior, he has all the guile and menace of a sheep."
Uhtred smiles at the turn of phrase, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"I'm staying," he says determinedly. "For now at least."
Leofric doesn't trust himself to reply to that, so simply jerks his head towards the cluster of tents in silent invitation. "You'd better wait for Odda calm down before you go to him," he says. "So explain to me how you survived."
Uhtred nods in wordless acceptance, following Leofric to his tent, where he looks at him expectantly.
"The truth?" Uhtred asks, allowing Leofric plausible deniability if he wants it. He doesn't.
"I only ask that you tell it once. You may say anything to Odda, but I ask that you're honest with me."
Uhtred cannot deny him that.
"Brida and Ragnar were there," he says. Leofric looks incredulous, but also strangely pleased: he had always respected Brida, and knows Uhtred cared for her and his brother; there is also the relief that he wasn't alone. "As expected, upon the news of Ubba's return, Guthrum ordered all the hostages to be killed," Uhtred continues. "I tried to escape, but I failed. Ragnar and Brida protected me, even though they knew I had been sent to spy."
"Loyalty is hard to destroy," Leofric remarks quietly.
Uhtred nods – if he notices the double meaning in Leofric's words, he does not say. "Ragnar told Guthrum if he wanted to kill me, he'd have to kill him as well," he continues. "He would have lost the support of Ragnar's army, so he relented."
"I'm glad," Leofric confesses.
"Me too," Uhtred smiles. They are silent for a few moments, then: "What is Odda's plan here?"
"Honestly, I'm not certain. He wants to live, not fight, but I fear we cannot do one without the other," Leofric admits. "If we stay on this hill, we will certainly die; if we fight, most of us will certainly die, but at least we stand a chance." He pauses a moment, weighing something in his mind. "Lord Odda has called a meeting tonight – he may extend the invite to you, if he is not too angry, but if not, I will aim to request your presence. It would be wise to have your advice again."
"Thank you," Uhtred says.
"Though you would be wise to hold your tongue," Leofric advises. "Young Odda would see you dead, so don't make it easy for him." He knows the words are futile – Uhtred will always do as he wishes, with no regard for his own life – but Leofric has to try. This damned need to protect him.
As predicted, Uhtred does not hold back.
Leofric watches him carefully throughout the exchange, and prays that he does not push it too far. In the end it is Uhtred who is pushed too far; the urge to follow as he storms off does not even take Leofric by surprise, but he remains seated.
"If the other hostages were killed, how did he survive?" Young Odda asks angrily.
Leofric has no idea what Uhtred told Lord Odda, nor what he has, or hasn't, shared with his son. All he says is: "He was taken as a child by the Danes and he survived." He doesn't mention he survived in the same way this time as the last, by being protected by his Danish family. "We would do well to follow him."
"Follow him?"
"Or listen to what he has to say Lord, is what I meant," Leofric corrects.
It's the first time he has let slip of his loyalty and his devotion to Uhtred.
He can only think that perhaps Uhtred does not feel the same, however.
"Ealdorman Uhtred has volunteered himself to distract the Danes. He will endeavour to set alight a number of their ships," Odda announces.
Leofric feels his heart drop. "He has gone?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
"Yes."
"Alone?" Once again, he knows the truth, concern balling in his stomach.
Odda's affirmation only makes the dread intensify.
They stand on the hillside watching the horizon.
"Lord Odda, we're ready – but to do what?" Wulfhere asks. Leofric is glad for his lead; he has no words to voice the suggestion that they may be leaving Uhtred to his fate.
Odda says nothing for a few moments, watching the flames leap up into the darkness. "He's done it," he breathes, sounding surprised but impressed. "Look, he's fired the ships."
Leofric had no doubt – Uhtred has always delivered on his promises.
He waits tensely for Odda's command; he does not expect him to go against his word, and yet he cannot be sure. He is torn – if the order is to flee, he cannot disobey, but could he really leave Uhtred? That really would be a death sentence.
Luckily he does not have find out which way his loyalty falls.
"We attack," Odda says decisively.
Leofric feels a rush of relief.
In the wake of the battle with Ubba's men, they have barely had chance to catch sight of one another, let alone talk to each other.
It is only as dawn breaks that Leofric can finally break away from his duties and make his way over to where Uhtred is sitting, staring out at the sea in silent, and weary, contemplation.
"Get this inside your belly, Arseling," he says as he approaches. Uhtred looks up, taking the proffered bread gratefully. "God knows you deserve it."
Leofric sits down next to him, blood still on his face, and Uhtred feels a surge of something he cannot quite name at the thought that Leofric is here, taking care of him, even before sorting himself out.
He passes over some water as well, and Uhtred's heart leaps as their fingers brush against each other. If Leofric is affected too, his face does not give it away.
"Lord Odda is hurt. Badly," Leofric says eventually.
Uhtred turns to him in shock.
"He kept his word," he says, eyes once again on the rippling water.
"He would," Leofric agrees, as though he experienced no moment of doubt in that fact himself. "He is a good man. A good Ealdorman." He finds he cannot take his eyes off Uhtred. After all, what's the point of staring out at the horizon when his whole world is right in front of him?
"I want Ubba buried with his axe," Uhtred tells him determinedly.
"His axe has gone," Leofric admits in surprise. Uhtred's eyes shoot up in shock and disbelief. "Young Odda wants him cut into pieces."
"No, that can't happen," Uhtred is adamant, his voice betraying a hint of anger, but at Odda, not Leofric.
"He would have done the same to you," Leofric says, even though he cannot bear the thought, and hopes his words don't convey the horror he feels recoiling in his stomach.
"He is Ubba – as close as the Danes will ever come to a King," Uhtred interrupts in frustration.
Leofric looks away. "I'll see he's buried," he says softly. God only knows how he'll convince Odda, but for Uhtred, he will try. He turns once again to Uhtred. "You – you have a task ahead," he tells him. "You go directly to Alfred and you kneel at his feet and tell the bastard you've saved Wessex." He leans close, trying to impress upon him how serious this is.
Uhtred is looking back out to sea. "No, I'll go to Mildrith," he says, his mouth set with determination.
Leofric tries not to let his frustration show. "If you don't do it, some other bugger will, and there will be reward."
"Men have seen it – they know what I have done – let them tell Alfred." He looks at Leofric with a sad smile. "I need to see my son."
Leofric shakes his head in disbelief. "You're a turd. A ball bag."
They share a look.
"Is that the best you can do?" Uhtred teases, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Nipple?" Leofric suggests, as though he's not even trying. A look to Uhtred, who raises an eyebrow in consideration, and perhaps acquiescence.
"I'm free to leave now then?" Uhtred asks eventually.
"You don't belong to Odda, there's nothing to keep you here," Leofric says, voice tinged with bitterness, and perhaps a hint of sadness.
Uhtred hears it and looks at him in question, but Leofric's face does not betray his thoughts.
Even though it has only been scant hours since they saw each other last, so much has changed.
Leofric sits down at Uhtred's table, completely disregarding the fact he has company, and that that company is not his wife. "How are your knees?" he asks, with the trace of a smirk.
"I can't laugh about it," Uhtred says sombrely, petulantly. Leofric schools his face into seriousness as Uhtred continues, "There's no justice here, only the Church."
"You knew that," Leofric says, filling a beaker with mead.
"I hear you're Young Odda's man now," Uhtred throws back.
"I'm passed from father to son, yes," Leofric says seriously. Uhtred presses his lips together in a gesture of apology. "Like the land."
"I cannot stay in Wessex," Uhtred asserts.
"You have a wife, a child you could not wait to see." It is because of his desperation they got into this whole sorry mess – he got into this mess, Leofric mentally amends. "Where would you go?" he asks, looking down at the table, and trying not to sound hopeless.
Uhtred shrugs with his eyebrows.
Leofric smirks down at the table. "Odda is afraid that you will kill him."
"Tell him I might," Uhtred returns. "Tell him each night before he goes to bed."
Leofric laughs into his drink.
"I need to find wealth, but here it's impossible," Uhtred says, continuing their earlier conversation as though they had never left the subject. "The Danes – they would see it and take it."
Leofric looks at him. "Then that is what we do," he says decisively. Uhtred looks at him, a question in his eyes. "We become Danes and we plunder. Men will follow you," Leofric asserts. "Those men we have schooled, others who were at Cynuit – they will follow you."
Uhtred finally shifts the woman from his knee. He leans across the table towards Leofric. "You're saying that we raid?"
"We find wealth and we take it."
"Here in Wessex?"
Leofric shakes his head. "No, you do not shit at your own table. Cornwalum – we take it from the Britons." Leofric can tell Uhtred is torn. "Do not say yes – not yet. Think," he says, tapping his head. "I'll do the same. But why should Odda be rewarded and not us?"
He downs his drink, silently excuses himself for a moment.
He returns with another flagon, offering it to Uhtred first, before topping up his own beaker.
Uhtred catches sight of Aethelwold across the room when he looks up. He inclines his head towards the disgraced boy. "Why did he do that today?" he asks of Leofric.
"Honestly? I'm not sure," Leofric admits. "An innate desire to show-off perhaps? He spared you from total humiliation though, just be thankful for that at the moment."
Uhtred nods, his eyes locked with Leofric's in silent contemplation. Something shifts in Leofric's expression at the prolonged gaze.
He takes a chance, leaning forwards across the table. "Did you enjoy seeing me on my knees?"
Leofric responds in turn, moving his head closer so there is the barest of gaps between them. "Very much."
Uhtred notes the roughness in his voice, and dares. "Do you want me on my knees in front of you?"
He sees the answer first in the darkening of his eyes; the rising flush up his neck.
"If you would not find it humiliating," Leofric replies, heart in his throat.
"It is not humiliating if we both want it."
"Do you?" he manages, voice nearly breaking with the effort of speaking so low.
Uhtred holds his gaze for what feels like the longest time – then nods.
Leofric downs the last of his mead, managing not to choke on the large gulp, eyes wide and pupils blown. "My chambers," he says, in a voice brooking no argument. "Now."
