And here we are with Part 2, and we're almost caught up with everyone to be in the same place. I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend so far. I know I am.
There are a few noticeable changes to the way our characters interact, but I tried to keep it as close as possible where I could. I also wanted to show a few different sides of Athelstan, without changing him too much.
Enjoy!
Unbroken, Part II
A week later, after too many preparations and not enough explanations, Prince Aethelwulf and Princess Judith were married. Aethelwyn had been permitted to attend by Sister Agnes, and when she joined Athelstan and Margaret in the main hall where the wedding was held, she had nothing but horrible things to say about the woman who was supposed to be taking care of her.
The princess had apparently gotten over her anxiety about marrying someone she barely knew, reciting her vows with as much confidence and certainty that Lilith had just nine months earlier. Prince Aethelwulf looked pleased even if it still didn't look like he was very interested in the woman he was marrying. Athelstan had to pretend to be happy, remembering how the prince usually eyed some of the female servants in the villa. Maybe that would stop now that he would be married, but Athelstan wasn't hopeful.
Bishop Edmund was as loud as he ever had been, presiding over the wedded couple and laying his eyes on Athelstan when he spoke to Judith and had her repeat her vows. And of course, Athelstan noticed that the vows Judith promised were slightly different from the ones he and Lilith had spoken to each other. There were other things that struck him the entire time, but with Margaret and Aethelwyn beside him, he had to keep it to himself. He remembered the weddings in Kattegat being so simpler, and they had involved everyone, not just the nobles or royalty.
The festivities that followed the ceremony were busier than the first feast that had been held for King Ælle, and it was louder. It reminded Athelstan of all the feasts he'd attended in Ragnar's honor, and of course, it reminded him of his own wedding feast with Lilith and their family and friends. Athelstan wanted to pray for the princess. He hoped she was happy.
Only a week later, it seemed like everything Athelstan had spoken about to the princess had been forgotten. Whether she had actually forgotten it or had been made to by her father and her husband wasn't clear, but she didn't speak to him again even when they were in the same room together. She barely looked at him, and he wondered what had been said or done to have such an outcome. He knew it was for the best, but it still worried him. The last thing he'd wanted was to cause her any trouble.
Her father, King Ælle left the villa with his wife, the Queen, and his son, along with all but a few servants and handmaidens who remained at the villa with the Princess. It didn't seem like she would be alone much anymore, and Athelstan was glad of that, especially when Prince Aethelwulf began paying more attention to her after they were married. That was the way it was supposed to be after all, and whether she'd been uncertain or not, the princess apparently appreciated it.
Of course, this all meant that whenever Athelstan was walking from the older part of the villa to his room, his walks were quiet and uninterrupted, which he preferred anyway. He learned far more about the Romans than he ever would have in the monastery, and he added as many new passages of poems and stories to the journal he was making for Lilith as he could remember. Margaret liked that he was keeping to himself even if she had to know that it wasn't all his doing. He liked that she was pleased despite it not being his fault she was so.
Then one day, he got all the way to the old Roman room and realized he had forgotten the journal, and he walked back to his room to retrieve it, arriving at the door and discovering that he'd walked both ways without his walking stick. It lay against his podium in his room, waiting like an old chair to be sat in, and Athelstan sat next to his podium, confused.
But then he was glad. If he was walking without his stick, then he was healing faster than anyone expected, including himself.
"I'm getting better, Lili," he whispered to himself. "I'm not whole just yet, but I'm getting better."
From under his bed, Peregrine called to him, and when he looked in her direction, she climbed out from under the bed, leaving behind her squalling children and wandering from one side of the room to the other where he sat. Without waiting for him to beckon her, she jumped onto his leg and then lifted her paws to his shoulder, leaning her little face into his.
"Yes, I am better," he promised her. "And yes, you are hungry. I will bring you something when I return, hmm?"
She nudged her nose against him and rubbed his cheeks with her forehead. He stroked her back and scratched behind her ears the way she liked, carefully putting her back down so he could collect his journal and then return to the old Roman room.
Just before he left, he glanced back at his podium and his walking stick as it set against the side. For a brief moment, he tested his feet, feeling a little tightness which was to be expected but otherwise feeling no new pain. He took a few steps without having to lean on the wall, and then a few more, grinning and bowing his head as he started off to his destination. It was something so small, but he could finally feel that it hadn't all be for nothing.
Margaret was cautiously optimistic, surprised when she found him for their midday meal and expressing her usual concern even as she allowed him to walk on his own back to his room.
"This is astonishing, Athelstan," she said as they moved along the corridor slowly. "I would never have expected you to do this so soon."
Athelstan grinned as he took his steps slowly and deliberately. "Well, I am determined," he reminded her.
She bowed her head, laughing softly. "Yes, you are," she commended. "But let us not forget to be patient. It is still a long time until Spring."
Instantly, he thought of Lilith and Ragnar, knowing they would also be preparing for Winter and praying they were both safe along with the rest of his family. Though he still missed them more every day, it was because of every day passing that he knew he was that much closer to seeing them again. It was the one thing he prayed for in the morning when he woke up and then at night before he went to sleep.
Every day after that day, Athelstan continued to improve, walking on his own to all his destinations and feeling a little stronger and little more hopeful. Margaret continued to express her amazement at his recovery, and when he was able to help her keep up with Aethelwyn, she was even more grateful. King Ecbert also visited him a few more times in the old Roman room, and they talked more about the scrolls and what kinds of information they contained. Athelstan had trouble hiding his surprise during those visits, even though they were much more pleasant than the first few had been.
Days became weeks, and then weeks became months, and before Athelstan knew it, Spring was only a few days away. The weather began to warm, and the flowers in the garden bloomed, giving the villa a decidedly welcoming environment. Aethelwyn especially liked it, since she walked with him on those days when Margaret had to help Sister Agnes in the chapel.
"That was the one thing about living in the nunnery that I truly loved," she said as they walked through the new flowers and blooming trees. "It was when I felt closest to God."
Athelstan laughed softly. "Spring has always been Lili's favorite time of year," he recalled. "Even on the island, everything was fragrant and green, and she loved being around the animals. She loved everything that lived, even as poorly as she was treated."
"She sounds like a lovely person," Aethelwyn said and wrapped her hand around his arm. "Tell me more about her. You said before that you taught her to read and write. What were her favorite things to read?"
"Oh, Lili loved the older stories," he chuckled, adding, "especially the Creation story and the Garden of Eden. And she preferred for me to read them to her before she went to sleep. The abbot of the monastery never appreciated her happiness, but to me, it was paramount. Growing up in such a restrictive place was difficult enough. I wanted her to be as carefree as possible."
She squeezed his arm gently, prompting him to lift his hand to hers. "I never had siblings or even friends growing up," she said and sighed. "I always wondered what it would be like to have a companion, at least to talk to even if I couldn't talk about what I knew or experienced. You and she were very lucky to have each other."
"Yes," he agreed. "Lili and I were very fortunate in many ways. I admit to myself that sometimes I wondered what our lives might have been like if we hadn't been in the monastery, but then many other things that I would not trade for the world might not have happened. Our path was put before us a long time before we were taken across the sea. Who was I to challenge that or change it?"
"Do you ever think about what might have happened if you hadn't stayed behind?" she asked softly. "If you weren't here now, and if you were with her."
Athelstan sighed heavily, thinking of his dreams and how real they had become in the last few months. "I think about it every day," he confessed. "Even though I know it will only cause me agony."
She bowed her head, frowning more prominently than he'd ever seen anyone do, and he stopped in the middle of the corridor to face her.
"That doesn't mean that I would not want to know you or help you the way I did," he assured her. "You are my friend after all, the same as Margaret is, and I could use all the friends I can find."
Her smile returned slowly, and he leaned closer to kiss her temple. She still reminded him of Lilith more each day, and it was clear to him that he needed to help her in any way he could. He knew Lilith would want nothing less.
He leaned back to look at her, almost speaking when Margaret called to them from the other end of the corridor.
"I have been looking everywhere for the two of you," she almost chastised.
Athelstan pulled in a deep breath, bowing his head as Margaret stepped in front of them and spoke again.
"The king has summoned everyone to the main courtyard to receive guests," she informed them.
"Who's coming to the villa now?" he asked, furrowing his brow as he glanced at Aethelwyn.
"The Princess of Mercia," she revealed. "Princess Kwentrith."
Athelstan had only heard that name once. During one of the visits King Ecbert had made to him while he'd been working on the scrolls, he'd mentioned how he and King Ælle had spoken about forming an alliance with the royal family in Mercia. The news had been that several members of the royal family had been killed as a result of in-fighting, and the princess was one of the few still claiming the throne. Why Ecbert wouldn't want to ally himself with one of her male family members escaped Athelstan's understanding, but as was usually the case, the king usually had a good reason to do what he did. Well, it was a good reason for him.
Margaret led them both to the courtyard where everyone else was already gathering, and she took them up the main podium where the king and bishop were currently whispering urgently to each other. Prince Aethelwulf and Princess Judith were standing by waiting, and they both looked at Athelstan as he arrived, for two very different reasons.
"One would think with such an important guest arriving that you would have been the first one here, Monk," the prince smirked.
Athelstan sighed softly as he climbed the steps and allowed Margaret and Aethelwyn to go ahead of him to the corner. "When the king has me working for all Eternity, one would think a little consideration could be made since I wasn't aware we had such an important guest arriving," he countered, to which the prince shook his head.
The princess glanced at Athelstan, standing on Aethelwulf's other side as she spoke. "I heard one of the servants gossiping about her," she said over the prince's shoulder. "Her father and her eldest brother died within weeks of each other. There is a rumor that Kwentrith killed her brother before he could take the throne, and it threw the entire region into chaos. One would think the king would not want to become involved in something that is clearly a petty squabble."
Aethelwulf chuckled softly. "Oh, my dear wife," he said and smiled wider. "How little you truly know. If you knew my father, you would be well aware of the fact that he always has a reason for everything he does. And of course, he would want nothing to do with the royal family of Mercia, which also happens to be the largest and richest kingdom in all of England. Because he has no need for an ally who has the ability to give him everything he's ever wanted."
Judith exhaled softly, folding her arms over her belly and catching Athelstan's gaze for just a mere second.
The gates opened a moment later, allowing in guards and an entourage of people who had all traveled from Mercia with the princess. She arrived at the head of the group, smiling and then making a circle around the courtyard until she came to stop in front of the platform where they were all watching her.
King Ecbert stood to greet her, smiling as he addressed her formally. "Welcome, Princess Kwentrith," he called and eased down the steps to be beside her. "To the kingdom of Wessex."
A man moved in to help her off the horse she rode, and she looked around the courtyard before she spoke as formally.
"Thank you, King Ecbert," she said and bowed her head. "I am most pleased to be here, and I thank you for being such a gracious host. It has been a long journey, but I am looking forward to your hospitality."
Ecbert chuckled and extended his hand to her. "Well, I hope you will be pleased with our small villa here," he commented and glanced back at the platform. "And we will, of course, have a feast in your honor as soon as you have settled into your chambers. They have been specially prepared just for you."
The princess grinned and glanced toward them as well, her eyes landing on Athelstan and then the prince. "I am sure, King Ecbert, that my accommodations are more than adequate. And I am honored to attend this feast you speak of. Such treatment will only endear you to me."
The king chuckled as he held her hand and turned to guide her away from the courtyard. Athelstan watched them, exhaling the breath he'd been holding in and realizing his heart was in his throat. The last time he'd felt this, he'd been standing with Ragnar and welcoming Jarl Borg and King Horik to Kattegat almost a year earlier. He hadn't trusted either of them, for good reason, and now he knew he couldn't trust King Ecbert or Princess Kwentrith.
Margaret leaned close to him then, whispering softly. "Well, she certainly acts like a princess," she remarked.
Athelstan laughed just once, silently agreeing with her.
Thankfully, the feast for Princess Kwentrith wasn't to be held until the next day, giving the servants and cooks enough time to prepare everything for the guests that had arrived with her. For a day, things in the villa went back to something resembling normal, if that was possible. Athelstan returned to his scrolls while Margaret took Aethelwyn back to the chapel where Sister Agnes apparently had chores for her to finish. He still amazed himself with his ability to walk without his walking stick, and he decided to take the long way around to the old Roman room since it was warmer now than it had been in weeks and months.
His walk took him by the gardens and a pair of guards standing at the entrance of the older part of the villa, and they nodded as he walked passed them, silent even as their eyes followed him until he was out of sight. He picked a few flowers, meaning to give them to Margaret and Aethelwyn for their rooms, and he walked by the chapel with the intention of not stopping before he heard more crying coming from within the room.
Because it was still light out, the candles were not lit, allowing the sunlight to filter in from the stained glass windows at the end of each pew. Athelstan recognized the Princess' dark brown mane before she turned to see him there, and he stood at the entrance of the church, unsure if it was appropriate for him to be here. Then she sat up and extended her hand to him.
"It's all right, Athelstan," she exhaled and looked away. "There's no one else here but me."
He sighed as he moved closer to her, looking around to make sure she was right before he arrived at her side and then sat away from her so more than an arm's length separated them. "Forgive me, my lady," he said and sighed. "I did not mean to intrude."
For a minute, she said nothing, fidgeting steadily and clenching her teeth. "You're not intruding," she muttered. "I've discovered that you're the only one in this place who actually cares about anyone other than themselves. I wonder if it's because of your upbringing, or because of your time with the Pagans. Neither my husband, nor the King know which one it is, but I'm suspecting it is neither. Am I correct?"
Athelstan looked away at the arrangement of candles at the front of the chapel. "You are," he confirmed. "Living in the monastery did not make me humble, if you wish to call it that. Living in the monastery was a simple existence. I was given an education and I was allowed to illuminate with the others. But it was never home. When Lili, my wife, came to the monastery as a baby, I only cared about her. But then I went out into the world, to go on missions, and I found others out there like her. People who weren't given a chance to be innocent or normal. So by caring for her and caring for them, it gave me a purpose. So when I see someone else suffering, it is my duty to do what I can to stop it."
The princess grinned slightly, lifting her chin and then folding her arms over her belly like she had earlier. "Well, that makes sense, I suppose," she remarked.
It only took Athelstan another minute to piece together what was bothering her, after what he'd said and what she'd said. Slowly, he eased closer to her, still trying to keep as much distance between them as he could before he spoke. "Princess Judith, are you . . . with child?" he asked as delicately as possible.
She was quiet another minute, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks before she sobbed and covered her face. Her sobs echoed off the church walls, making it even more evident that she was crying, and Athelstan scooted a little closer.
"My lady, it's all right. You don't have to be scared," he said, trying to reassure her. "Women have children all the time."
She shook her head, her hand still over her mouth.
For a second, Athelstan was confused. He knew the circumstances of Aethelwulf and Judith's marriage hadn't been ideal, but so far as he knew, Aethelwulf wasn't cruel or violent. Surely, the princess would be at least a little relieved to be pregnant so close to their wedding. Surely, there was no reason for her to cry now.
"Princess — "
"I am not with child," she huffed and balled her hand into a fist.
Athelstan furrowed his brow. "You're not?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
She shook her head. "No, I am not. I have been married for nearly five months, and I am not pregnant. And my husband has become impatient with me. And my father has sent me another messenger commanding me to do my duties as a wife. Neither of them wonder why I have not conceived. They just want me to get it done. But I did not want to be married the way I was, and I do not want to bring a child into this arrangement. I do not care about what my duty is. No child deserves that."
"No," he agreed. "They don't. But perhaps you shouldn't think of it that way. Perhaps think of it as bringing life into the world the way our Lord commanded us when Noah left his ark. Perhaps it is better to think of your child, instead of the people who will surround him his whole life. You will be a good mother. I can tell already."
Judith took a deep breath, wiping her tears away and lifting her chin. "I have wanted children since I was twelve, and my mother always encouraged me to do so. She knew one day that I would be required to give my husband as many sons as possible, and she wanted me to be prepared even if I always wished it wouldn't happen like this. Now that I am expected to have children, my body does not want to abide, and I cannot blame it."
Athelstan was at a loss for words. In all his life, he'd only been around two women who had actively tried to have children with their husbands. Lagertha's third pregnancy and her fourth and last pregnancy had both ended in a miscarriage, and she had been inconsolable for weeks and months afterward. Aslaug had arrived in Kattegat already pregnant, but then for the next four years, she had gotten pregnant more frequently than Athelstan had ever seen, and she'd been proud. He remembered from Ragnar's talks that he believed the gods had promised him many sons, and Aslaug had surely fulfilled that prophecy. She'd even been pregnant when Athelstan had left Kattegat, and he sometimes wondered whether that child was a boy as well.
Lilith becoming pregnant so quickly had been a complete surprise, and neither of them had been trying for that outcome at all. He honestly didn't know what circumstance was best, but he did know that he and Lilith would love their child. After everything they had been through, nothing less than that would be enough.
"What does your heart tell you, Princess?" he asked gently. She looked at him, and he amended himself to say, "Judith."
She sighed and folded her hands together in her lap. "My heart is conflicted as well," she confessed. "I want a child, and I know will love that child with all my heart. But what kind of life will he have living in the villa? And how long would it be before he was commanded to do what I'm doing? Would he even be given the chance to grow up before it became necessary for him to sacrifice his freedom for his family?"
Athelstan eased closer to her, laying his hand over her shoulder even as he still sat a good distance from her. "My wife and I weren't even trying to get her pregnant, and it happened," he revealed, and she looked at him again. "We were blessed by God to make a child together, and when that child is born, I know she will be the most beautiful child in the world. Because I am her father. You are a good person, Judith. If you have a child, that child will be very lucky to have you for a mother, because you will do anything in your power to keep him safe. Just think of him and what it will feel like to hold him in your arms the first time. I find myself thinking the same things, and it helps me face every day. Thinking of Lili helps me face every day."
The princess smiled sadly, taking his hand from her shoulder and holding it in hers. "But you love your wife, Athelstan," she reminded him. "I don't even know if Aethelwulf loves me. How can I know he will love our child as much as you love yours?"
He squeezed her hand gently. "You don't. That's where your faith comes in. That's when you trust God to give you the strength to do whatever you have to so your child is loved and protected. And if Aethelwulf doesn't love you by now, then he is blind and selfish, and perhaps it will take time for him to grow out of those things. Lili was the most stubborn person I knew, and we often argued about many things that always ended up being silly. Once we knew how the other felt, there was no more stubbornness and no more arguing. Have faith, Judith, that it will be the same for you. If you will, then I will."
His words seemed to comfort her, and she lay her other hand over theirs as they lay over the wooden pew between them.
This time, when her tears fell, she smiled and then laughed softly.
"What is it?" he asked, grinning even as he furrowed his brow.
"If I didn't know better," she said and turned her body toward his, "I would think you were a priest, offering advice and counsel to his very distraught patron. You are so wise, Athelstan. So much more than Bishop Edmund. If I had come to him with these words, he would not have told me to believe or have faith or even trust in God. I am a woman, and it is my duty to give my husband an heir. That is what he would say."
Athelstan scoffed just enough to make it sound like he laughed, and he lay his hand over hers and theirs together. "Then the abbot of the monastery would be very disappointed in me for not chastising you and making you feel like you had failed as a wife," he remarked. "Father Cuthbert would never have allowed me to become a priest if that wasn't the advice I would give a woman in my church. It makes me glad that I never became a priest. But it is not the kind of serving I wished to do for God. And I wouldn't want to make anyone's life more difficult."
"Then you are far more human than being a priest would allow you to be," she observed even as she smirked.
"Athelstan!"
Margaret's voice startled him as he let go of the princess' hand and stood up to turn and see her there at the entrance to the chapel. He sighed as she did, glancing at Judith and stepping into the aisle as Margaret arrived at his side.
She looked at Judith first, bowing her head. "Princess," she greeted.
Judith also bowed her head. "My lady," she reciprocated.
Then Margaret looked at Athelstan. "I thought you would be working on your scrolls this afternoon," she said and side-eyed Judith without looking at her again.
"I was on my way there," he explained and then gestured to Judith. "But she was crying, and I wanted to make sure she was all right. I know I shouldn't have," he assured her. "But it was only for a few minutes. I was about to leave anyway."
"It wasn't his fault," Judith said and stood up, moving to the aisle to join them. "I needed someone to talk to, and he was gracious enough to provide that for me."
Margaret sighed as she wrung her hands together. "I thank you for your honestly, My Lady Judith. But it is still not appropriate for the two of you to be seen alone together. Especially since your husband is the Prince. And Athelstan has enough to do right now with his scrolls and keeping Aethelwyn out of trouble. We will both leave you now."
She grabbed his hand to pull him away, and they were almost to the door when Judith called back to them.
"Who is Aethelwyn?" she asked, genuinely curious.
Margaret stopped and sighed, and then Athelstan did, pleading with her when she looked at him and sighing himself when she turned back to face the princess.
Athelstan spoke when Margaret wouldn't. "Aethelwyn is a girl from the local nunnery that Margaret and I are caring for," he explained. "She was captured by the Northmen and escaped them to come here, and Margaret has helped her adjust to life here. I've been helping since I left the infirmary a few months ago."
Judith stepped closer to them, frowning as she gazed over his body from his head to his feet. "Why were you in the infirmary?" she inquired softly, like she was afraid of the answer.
Slowly, deliberately, Athelstan showed her his hands where the rent skin was still healing but was already mostly healed. Judith gasped so loud that her voice echoed off the walls, and she grabbed his hands to hold them both in hers.
"Stigmata," she whispered and immediately crossed herself. "Oh, my lord Jesus."
Athelstan huffed, annoyed at her reaction even if he understood it. Only a few people knew what had really happened to him, and none of them had reacted like this. They all knew it had been a painful, humiliating experience. It wasn't something he liked for anyone else to know, for this reason specifically.
"Athelstan," Judith cried. She began muttering as she held his hands tighter, kneeling in front of him until the only part of her body above her head was her arm and her hand as she held his. "My lord Jesus."
He glanced at Margaret, seeing the indifference on her face and in her eyes. Then he knelt in front of Judith, still holding her hand. "Judith, please, you shouldn't do this," he begged. "You don't need to do this. I am not worthy of it. This wasn't done to me out of any reverence or even compassion. I was captured and beaten and when I wouldn't confess to Bishop Edmund, he had them nail me to a cross. There was no faith or even consideration involved."
It took her a minute to compose herself, and when she did, she looked at him and then up at Margaret. "Why were you captured?" she asked and looked at him.
Athelstan pushed out a heavy breath, also looking up at Margaret as she waited impatiently. "Because I was with the Northmen when they came to Wessex," he revealed. She gasped, releasing his hands and drawing back from him. Athelstan huffed as he continued. "I was the one who helped Aethelwyn escape so she could come back here, and then I was betrayed by the man I was following. He left me here, and I was captured by King Ecbert's men who took me to the bishop. First, they interrogated me. Then they beat me when I wouldn't confess that I was a heathen, because I guess I still don't consider myself one. And then he punished me by having me drag a cross through the woods where the soldiers nailed me to the same cross I carried. They were going to kill me, but King Ecbert stopped them. He stopped them because Aethelwyn begged him to, and so I owe her my life."
Judith listened as silently as anyone ever had, processing what he told her and allowing him to take her hand to help her to her feet. She could not take her eyes from his hand, but when she looked up at him, he could see that she understood.
"I'm sorry, Athelstan," she said, and he sighed.
"Don't be sorry, Judith," he pleaded. "It was done, and it cannot be undone. Right now, we all need to move forward. Now that you know, I hope it doesn't change us being friends."
She grinned only slightly, squeezing his hand gently. "Of course not," she assured him. "After all, we both need as many friends as we can find, no?"
He smiled and blushed, bowing his head. "Yes," he said.
Margaret cleared her throat then, moving to be beside both of them. "This is all well and good," she said, and they both looked at her. "But we truly must leave here now. We all have responsibilities to tend to."
Athelstan sighed and released Judith's hand, feeling the same swell in his chest he had with Lilith and then with Edda, and it was strange that he hadn't felt it with Margaret or with Aethelwyn, when they had reminded him of Lilith even more than Judith did. She stepped away from them both and pulled her hood up over head.
"I should go," she stated and stood up straight. Then she smiled. "But I'll see you both soon."
She didn't say anything else, stepping around them and leaving the chapel quietly. Margaret sighed loudly as soon as she was gone, taking Athelstan's arm to turn him around and face her.
"You are insufferable," she chastised, even as she smiled. "Your instincts and your manners will be the death of you yet."
"I told you," he began, and she stopped him before he could finish.
"I know," she said and bowed her head. "She was crying. I've seen you with Aethelwyn. You are a gentle soul, Athelstan. And it is commendable for you to want to help anyone who needs help. But in this world, you must also be careful. Gentle souls do not last long around here."
He pushed out the breath he'd been holding in, and she touched his cheek gently.
"Come," she said and pulled him along. "That's enough counseling for today, Brother Athelstan. Get your flowers and then we will leave."
Though he hadn't been called that in nearly eight years, hearing her say it didn't make him frown like he thought it might. It made him smile, in a way he never would have expected.
The next day was a blur of activity as Margaret helped the servants decorate the main hall, and Athelstan helped Aethelwyn replace the candles in the chapel. The cooks baked every kind of bread there was to bake, and they roasted every animal that was selected to be roasted, and they boiled every vegetable there was to be boiled. There was cheese and fruit chopped and served, and the tables were set with golden plates and cutlery. The cups were filled with only the best wine from Frankia, and the table cloths were made of lace from the far east.
Kind Ecbert spared no expense to throw this feast for his special guest.
Their last feast had been for King Ælle and his family that had included Princess Judith, and that feast had been only half this extravagant. Athelstan guessed that the king of Northumbria wasn't accustomed to such niceties, and so he wouldn't have been impressed by gold plates and knives and roasted pigs and vegetables. But Princess Kwentrith enjoyed it. It was obvious by the way she smiled when they were all seated at the main table.
Margaret and Aethelwyn sat on either side of Athelstan, ensuring he would not get seated next to Judith, but it also put him directly in the line of sight of Princess Kwentrith. Her gaze from the day before had not diminished, not even when she spoke to the King as he sat beside her.
"I hope you are hungry, Princess Kwentrith," King Ecbert said as they were served. "My cooks have been working since dawn to prepare you a worthy feast to commemorate your visit to the villa."
"I am grateful for your diligence, King Ecbert," she replied graciously. "I'm sure it all tastes wonderful. But I do not eat meat. It does not agree with me. If it pleases you, I should only eat vegetables."
Ecbert bowed his head. "As you wish, Princess."
The server gathered enough vegetables to put on her plate, and as soon as the servant moved away, she looked at Athelstan again.
"Who are you?" she asked expectantly. "You are not a noble, despite dressing like one."
Athelstan bowed his head. "My name is Athelstan, my lady," he answered and glanced at Margaret. "I am not a noble, you are correct. Many years ago, I was a monk at Lindisfarne."
This seemed to intrigue her more than surprise her. "A monk?" she repeated, amused.
Before he could elaborate, King Ecbert spoke up.
"Athelstan," he interjected, "was captured by the Northmen, as was a young girl who is now his wife. They both lived amongst them. He knows everything there is to know about their pagan ways."
The grin on Princess Kwentrith's face grew. "Is that so?" she questioned teasingly. "Well, I have heard that the pagans sacrifice human beings. Is that true, Monk? Do they, actually?"
He sighed softly, grinning despite himself. "Every nine years, yes, they do," he confirmed, still remembering the festival at Uppsala and everything that had happened there. "They believe it is the best way to the please the gods."
Her amusement grew as much as the smile on her face. "And are they naked when they do this?" she inquired, idly eating the food from her plate and implying that she was only mildly interested in what he said. Then she added, "I have heard rumors that the pagans make love to whomever they choose, and that the idea of fidelity is utterly strange to them. What do you say to that, Monk?"
Athelstan thought of Ragnar and Lagertha and how fiercely they had loved each other, and he remembered how it hadn't been enough to keep Ragnar from sleeping with Aslaug less than a year after they'd lost their second child to the gods. He thought of Floki and Helga, being so committed to one another and how it wasn't enough to keep other people out of their bed when the desire arose. He even thought about Lilith and Edda and what had begun to develop between them before he'd left for England a year earlier.
"I wouldn't say they don't have fidelity, my lady," he said to the princess. "Nor would I say they make love to whomever they want whenever they want. Their morality is different, but there is still loyalty and family. I learned from them that nothing is always so simple, and it does not do to dwell on matters of the soul and spirit when it comes to desires of the flesh."
She pursed her lips, still smirking and taking a bite of the cheese on her fork. "But would you not say that it is more natural?" she taunted. "Humans were not built for monogamy, would you agree?"
Her words provoked his thoughts to make themselves louder in his mind than any previous time. He thought of Lilith confessing that she had loved Edda when they had been girls, and he remembered how it surprised him that she would consider something between them even remotely possible. She and Edda were both free spirits, carefree and innocent, and the thought of anything happening to them filled Athelstan with dread and anger. But he could not stop his mind from wandering to answer that most obvious question the Princess posed to him. Was it natural for him to love Lilith and Edda at the same time?
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he answered that question, and it frightened him.
"My lady," he said to the princess, "I can only say their way of living and being is different. That is the most fair answer I can give you."
Her dark eyes glinted in the low candle light as she threw a piece of food at him, dismissing him instantly. "Well, aren't you just the most boring one of them all," she scoffed.
Athelstan had to look away before he rolled his eyes, hearing the king pick up a new conversation, and Margaret leaned closer to him.
"Not only does she act like a princess," she remarked, "but she also has the manners of one."
He sighed softly, nodding just once and agreeing with her like he had the say before.
Then Aethelwyn leaned in to speak to both of them. "Do all royals behave this way?" she asked them softly. "Do they all do as they please, to make the rest of us feel inferior while they take advantage of our hospitality and eat all of our food?"
Athelstan laughed softly, and then Margaret did. "Try not to be too offended by them, Aethelwyn," he whispered. "After all, it is their world, and we're only living in it, according to them. And don't worry about the Princess. I'm sure King Ecbert will keep her occupied while she is here, however long that happens to be. It won't interfere with us or any of our daily activities, which I believe still includes you helping Sister Agnes in the chapel."
Aethelwyn sighed and nodded, sitting up straight as King Ecbert stood up from the table.
"Let us make a toast," he said and prompted everyone else to stand up with him. "To Princess Kwentrith and the conquest of Mercia."
Everyone at the table lifted their cups, mirroring the king's words, and Athelstan did as well, watching the princess and noticing that she still had her eyes on him.
The feasting lasted well into the night, with drinking and fellowship and stories being told by the king and his son and some of the nobles staying in the villa. It reminded Athelstan of the feasts in Kattegat, although this one was admittedly more tame than any of the others he'd attended, and there was no animal sacrifice to the gods to ask for success in their future endeavors. Ragnar would call that a travesty.
Aethelwyn wanted to leave early, and Margaret offered to take her back to the dormitories. She left Athelstan sitting next to the table filled with fruit bowls and pitchers of wine, promising to return as soon as her task was completed. As soon as he was alone, he knew it was a mistake to sit there when no less than four women all came to sit down next to him. They were all most certainly drunk, since none of them had noticed him before tonight, and it forced him to stand up and leave when the fourth and final woman tried to grab his tunic and pull it from his pants.
He stepped out of the main hall, hiding in the corridor and sucking in a deep breath that was cool and calmed his nerves.
"You are an oddity to them," he heard and turned to see Princess Kwentrith behind him. "And women are always attracted to something they have never seen before."
Athelstan remained frozen where he'd stopped, watching as she came closer and regarded him differently than anyone ever had.
"Where is your wife, Monk?" she teased with a slight grin on her face.
He took a deep breath, swallowing his fear. "She is with her family," he said, adding, "in the North. And she is waiting there for me with them."
She quirked up her eyebrow. "Is that right?" she questioned, still amused by his existence. "And you only have one wife, do you?"
"Of course," he replied incredulously.
She pouted. "That's a pity," she scoffed. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing you with me for a night or two, hmm?"
She came as close to him as she could without touching him, and his feet finally obeyed his command to move away from her. She grabbed the front of his cloak to prevent him from retreating, and he shrugged his shoulders, forcing her to release the fabric reluctantly.
"I'm sure she would mind, my lady," he nearly shouted, surprising her even as she smiled at his behavior. "And I mind. I beg your pardon, but if you will excuse me, I must retire for the night."
He didn't give her a chance to stop him, hurrying down the corridor even though his own room was in the opposite direction. He figured he would double back once the princess was gone, but he refused to be anyone else's plaything. King Ecbert had already begun acting like Athelstan was his thing to show off to people, and that was bad enough. The last thing he wanted was for another royal behaving the same way.
Athelstan remembered halfway to his room that he'd left his journal in the old Roman room, turning quickly and stepping outside the villa so he would be able to bypass the main hall and return to the old room before it was too late. The candles were still lit when he arrived, and he searched the lower shelves for his journal without looking around. His hands closed around the worn leather as he looked up and saw something glittering on the desk of his podium.
"You left so quickly that I did not get the chance to tell you," he heard and looked up to see King Ecbert there alone.
Athelstan stood up without picking up the journal, facing the king. "Sire?"
Ecbert moved around the room to his podium, lifting the glittering thing from the desk and then stepping in front of Athelstan, revealing the glitter to be from a golden, ornately designed cross on a gold chain.
"I had my goldsmith make this for you specially," he revealed and lifted it so Athelstan could see it more clearly. "You have become such a good friend, Athelstan. And you have humbled me by performing this very important task for me. I simply wanted to show my appreciation and my gratitude."
Still, the gold cross remained dangling in the air between them, and Athelstan struggled to accept the king's declaration. It had been almost a year since he'd even touched a cross, remembering the small one he'd taken from the scriptorium at Winchester, and it had been even longer than that since he'd worn one, having melted down his old one to make his wedding rings with Lilith. This cross was nothing like either of those.
"Take it," Ecbert pleaded and lowered the cross to Athelstan's open hand. "Please, my friend. You have earned it."
The heavy metal pressed down against Athelstan's palm, and the thick chain brushed the tips of his fingers as the king closed his hand around Athelstan's.
"Sire," he began, "I am overwhelmed. I had not expected this at all."
The king smiled slightly. "That is why it is a gift, my dear Athelstan. And I hope you will wear it during mass tomorrow."
Athelstan could only bow his head, agreeing if he still didn't understand why Ecbert had given him such an extravagant gift. He knew the king always had a reason for everything he did, but this was beyond reason. The king had to know that Athelstan would never be a permanent resident here, be it now or in the future. Whether he wished to hold favor with Athelstan or not, gift-giving had never been the best way for anyone to do that. Even Ragnar had understood that after several weeks and months.
He was back in his room when Margaret found him, laying on his small bed with Peregrine and her kittens keeping him company. Already the little brood was eating him out of room and board, but Athelstan couldn't bear to part with them just yet.
"I thought you would be back in the old Roman room after the feast," Margaret said and sat on the bed beside him. "You usually go there when you have something to think about."
Athelstan sighed as he stroked Peregrine's back, sitting up to face Margaret as he spoke. "I did go back there," he nodded. "The king was there. He gave me this," he said and lifted the cross that was still in his hand.
Margaret gasped softly and took the cross, looking over its details before she lifted her gaze to his. "The king gave you this tonight," she clarified, and he nodded. "Did he say why?"
"Only that he wished to show me his appreciation and his gratitude," he said and sighed. "As if threatening my life and sequestering me away from the rest of villa was proof enough of that. I was worried when he came to see me after I arrived here that he would be too much like Father Cuthbert for me to trust him. Now I see that he is worse than Father Cuthbert. He is not a man humbled by God. He is a fanatic who desires power and prestige, and he gives his subjects trinkets to convey his admiration."
The shock on Margaret's face was enough to prove that he was right in his assessment, and he took the cross from her, looking at it for a few seconds more before he put it on as had been intended.
"Why did you do that?" she demanded softly.
He looked at her straight on, clenching his jaw. "Because it's what he wants," he nearly spat. "And because if I intend to return to Lili and our home, then I have to survive in this place a little longer. If this helps me to do that, then I'll wear it all day and all night. And you won't tell him what I said. Because it will keep you safe as well, and Aethelwyn."
She clenched her own jaw, pressing her lips into a thin line as she looked away from him. "At least you can easily dodge his overtures. I have not been so lucky. And I find myself at a loss as to what I am to do if it continues. I worry about Aethelwyn becoming entangled in all of this. Right now, she is safe. Innocent. That won't last much longer."
"Then we will simply have to work that much harder to ensure she stays safe," he determined.
It took her a minute to agree with him, but once she did, he moved forward and embraced her as completely as he could under the circumstances. It had been too long since he'd held another person in his arms, and he hoped if his prayers were answered that it wouldn't be too much longer before the person he wanted to have in his arms was there once again.
And now we're only five chapters from the end of the story, and there are still many changes to come. I hope you're ready for them.
I'm still finishing up the last two chapters of this story, so I'm going to take a short break and be back with a new chapter in two weeks.
Thank you to everyone who's reading and following, and putting this in their favorites. And thank you to my reviewers!
See you next time!
