Chapter 10 – Answers
Warning: this story will have very triggering subject matter throughout. Individual trigger warnings will be placed with chapters when appropriate. Any feedback is really appreciated.
Triggers for this chapter: vulgar language.
Not going to lie. This chapter was tough. It's a transition of sorts, and I'm not sure I like how it turned out. Still, the best way to learn how to get through these kinds of challenges is to push through them.
A pair of herons rested together side by side in a marsh tucked away in Mercia's woodlands. The dead calm waters mirrored the surrounding muddy shores, tall grass, luscious deciduous trees, and crystal blue sky.
It was a perfect, parallel world.
The two worlds and herons seemed to meet here in peace and serenity. A complete contrast to what had just occurred in Repton.
For in that city, two worlds had not met, but collided. They had crashed into each other, and from it a potent, toxic anger seeped into the surrounding landscape.
That very anger followed Blanchefleur as she had retreated to this marsh following Swayne's outburst. She channeled her fury into a rock she was holding in her hand. The stones flat shape made it ideal for skipping
But she didn't bother flicking her wrist to make it hop across the water. Instead, she groaned loudly and hurled it across the way. It landed in marsh's center, scaring the herons off in a flurry.
The water rippled at the sudden force. The replica world became a jumbled mess of colors, the shapes of its features melted into shades of blue, green, brown, and black. Its chaotic energy matched the instability in Blanchefleur's troubled mind.
And she was not happy with that.
Not by one. Little. Bit.
Just when she thought she had gained the upper hand, on the Ragnarssons no less, Mère hours later, Swayne had humiliated her.
Swayne! Of all people, this mess had to be caused by Swayne?!
Her most trusted guard! The boy she had pulled out of the desultory world he'd been damned to! He humiliated her in view of the Ragnarssons and a large crowd!
She had arrived just in time to see Swayne almost ruin everything they had worked for. He had made her look like a damn fool!
What the hell were you thinking, you stupid boy?! This…this…how do I recover from this?!
The fact that Melodie had sought comfort in her as Swayne was being carried away didn't help either. It was not the little girls fault she caught her birth mother at a bad time.
Blanchefleur tried to reason with herself that she had to be in a proper state of mind to be of any comfort to anyone, let alone her own birth daughter.
At times like these Blanchefleur often escaped to a quiet place, free of the noise that came from conflict. She did not fear conflict, nor was she trying to abscond herself of responsibility that confront it. But Melodie couldn't be here with her, not now.
She groaned even louder and hurled another rock into the water. This time it plunged down so close to her it created a large splash, spraying dirty water on her robes and face.
The definite snap of twigs being crushed under a heavy weight made Blanchefleur jump. She turned around and scanned the thicket of trees.
She thought she was alone, having not seen any visible signs of animals via droppings or tracks in the dirt, but she had to keep her guard up.
She withdrew a dagger from her belt, bracing herself for whatever beast might pop out of the bushes.
"There you are!" Blanchefleur recognized Ubba's voice. His well-made maroon armor stood out against the green vegetation around him.
I wasn't THAT far off…he's an animal in his own right.
He pointed to her dagger. "Put that away, you won't be needing that." He said.
She reluctantly complied and placed her dagger back in its holster. She took note of the energy of his slate gray eyes.
They were narrowed at her, almost as if they were saying try it. I dare you. Give me a reason to attack you.
"What are you doing, sneaking off like that?" Ubba asked.
"Peace and quiet seemed in order given what's just transpired." She said tiredly.
"Fair, but you shouldn't run off like that without warning. It's a cowards move." He chastised her. He placed his hands on his hips and stood tall and proud as he glared at her.
Just Ivarr prefers cursing and swearing, Ubba prefers posturing.
"Is it cowardly in your eyes to collect one's thoughts, surrounded by nature?" Blanchefleur asked.
"By principle, no. But do not dress your actions in pretty words, La Mère. In addition to that, you are a high-profile target whose just made a very public peace treaty with Mercia. Assassins will stalk your every move!" He said.
She shrugged. "Fair point." She said indifferently.
He didn't seriously ask me that question just now, did he? Of course I know that!
For months she had her spy's collect information on the areas bordering Repton.
Where people frequented for whatever reason, whenever they did so.
Many stories reached her desk as they collected intel. Where men had affairs with their mistresses, where wives had affairs with their lovers, where children snuck off too with bottles of wine, and the like.
This marsh is special because people frequented here the least. It is a place where Blanchefleur could be truly alone. Meditate, internally mediate, and escape chaos in the safest way possible.
The chances of anyone, let alone an assassin coming here, was slim to none based on her calculations. And those were seldom wrong.
She surmised it was best not to explain that reasoning here, not now anyway. Ubba probably wouldn't believe her.
"What the hell happened back there?" Ubba demanded.
She looked at him. "I need more context," she said calmly. "I only arrived Mère moments before I realized Swayne had gone too far. And the boy who summoned me only said Swayne had lost control. I can only guess, but I want to hear it from you."
"Ceolbert approached Swayne, trying to be pleasant. Then Swayne just started going off on some anti-monarchal sentiment." He explained.
"Tch! I'm not surprised. I knew of his anti-monarchy stance, but I never imagined he'd be so disrespectful as to do something this brash." She said.
She picked up another rock, this time intent on skipping it. She joked to herself she wished she was skipping Swayne's severed head over the water. Maybe that would teach the disrespectful brat a lesson.
But Ubba suddenly snatched her wrist and held it firm in his grip. His hands were so calloused they almost seemed to sand her far gentler skin. She let loose the stone in shock.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He ordered her sharply.
Blanchefleur felt sweat bead in her palms. She feared it might bead into Ubba's hand, furthering his stance she was a coward.
"Noted." She said curtly. She made sure to not avert his gaze. She was on shaky ground now, and she dare not falter. "I'll let your ears rest from long, winding tales of my true family. Swayne's story is common among them." She continued.
"Give me the basics." He hissed, throwing her wrist down. She was lucky to be able maintain her balance, subtly changing the weight in her feet to counter any potential swaying.
"He resents his position as a bastard. That resentment festers into jealously of those higher born." She explained.
"Those higher than his station?" Ubba asked.
"Deemed so by society," She retorted. "That's normal for anyone of the bastards in our care. What isn't normal, is attacking someone because of it!" She finished angrily.
"Let alone Mercia's champion." Ubba said. He stepped back and propped himself up against a trunk of a huge deciduous tree. He brushed away a falling leaf that landed in the center of his mohawk.
She furrowed her brow. "You said I would answer for this, and I am starting to do that now. I do not condone what he did." She said.
He shrugged. "Is that so? Seems to be you've been touting on and on about how you've bettered the lives of bastards. I thought you might support one of them showing their defiance of such social standards in such a grandiose, public display!" He argued.
"You are sorely mistake, Ubba Ragnarsson!" She said frustratedly.
He motioned to the lake. "Then why come here? Why not rush to our king's side to explain yourself?" He asked.
Blanchefleur chuckled. "Your brother, Ivarr, shooed me away for one thing" she scratched her cheek with a single finger. "His exact wording was 'get the fuck out of my face before I skin you right here and now!'" She recalled.
Ubba rolled his eyes. "That…is very much like my brother. And the second?" He asked. He beckoned for her to follow. "I need you back in Repton. Leave Ivarr to me."
Blanchefleur sighed and looked longingly across the lake. Among the bright shared of light reflecting off the waters surface, she was barely able to make out the silhouette of the two herons she saw before.
Stay right there. I'll be back! She twiddled the golden heron charm on her necklace and smiled.
"Did you not hear me? Let's go!" Ubba barked at her.
"C-coming!" She stamMèred and hurried to his side.
The walked through the trail in relative silence. It was just wide enough to let the duo walk side by side. Light pierced through the few slits in the dense canopy above.
It would've been a pleasant afternoon stroll were it not for the other circumstances.
Rather than walking side-by-side with any regular person, Blanchefleur felt she was a run-away dog being forced home by its owner on a tight leash.
While she would normally counteract the tension in the air with the beautiful natural sight around her, a pressing matter had to be brought up.
"If…I may ask…?" Blanchefleur started.
"What now?" Ubba grumbled annoyedly.
She fiddled with her heron chain once more. This time she rubbed the intricate pattern of its wings more rigidly. So much so she feared she'd dull the individually carved feathers.
Melisendre surely wouldn't appreciate the mutilation of the expensive peace she'd commissioned for Blanchefleur's name day three years past.
"Melodie…where did she go after I…?" She asked, her voice trailing off.
The implication seemed to be enough for Ubba clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
A great warrior, embarrassedly trying to put words together on the affairs of a mother and child. I'm starting to think I've seen it all.
"She returned to her quarters. If memory serves me right, she started to play a lyre." He said. A loud crack sounded from above and a small branch flew down at them. Ubba swiftly caught it and threw it over his shoulder.
"Avoiding her arithmetic yet again!" Blanchefleur commented. The disappointment was evident in her voice.
Ubba looked at her quizzingly. Perhaps he expected a warmer answer from her.
"Wasn't it you who said not to dress my words? Speak plainly and do not waste time! Melodie had to learn to make the most use of her time, especially in times of strife!" Blanchefleur said. She crossed her arms and pouted her lips. "My main fear is Melodie will never put that damn lyre down. She'd happily burn her arithmetic books given the chance."
Ubba chuckled but said nothing. He probably didn't have much to say to her anyway. Blanchefleur admitted it felt good to at least have another person present as she vented.
Herons rarely made good conversation.
As they made their way through the busy streets of Repton's streets, she took care of the people's wary glances. Being a spy master, she had learned to read people to a rather meticulous degree.
Are they looking at you?
Or are they looking through you?
Why would their eyes register your appearance?
And how can you remove yourself as quickly as possible?
Common folk were occupied with everyday matters. A flustered farmer was attempting to round up some runaway hens while a trio of soldiers hoisted some heavy looking crates to the local tavern.
But others were focused on Blanchefleur. She could sense their trepidation in their body language, and could only guess what concerns they were whispering to one another.
Once again, she was not happy.
Her predecessor had ruled through intimidation, fear, and blood. Blanchefleur certainly had no qualms using those as tools, but not her primary ones.
She had to be sure that she communicated to everyone that she did not confuse respect, fear, and love. Even if they would not reach the same level of understanding, she could at least reach them at their core.
Shared values practiced in life, ones she vowed to protect.
But Swayne's brash actions seemed to leave a sour stench in the air. As they passed the area where the fight took place, she got a strong whiff of copper from the drying blood.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
Time to finish my answers.
That night, Ubba could barely sleep.
He tossed and turned on his bed to no avail. His quarters were fitting for someone who fought and lost so much for this kingdom. The fresh straw in his mattress should have let Ubba sleep with ease. But he couldn't
At first, he thought La Mère's trip to the lake was typical spy trickery. Running away at the first sight of trouble.
But the Mère he saw at the lake struck him as ordinary. And that bothered him.
From his experience, conflicts like the one earlier today could spark a fire in some. Prompt action to be taken with fire and blood. His brother Ivarr certainly fit that type.
But La Mère, the ruthless information broker feared across lands and sea, seemed to do the opposite.
It was even more contradictory given how she apparently handled her brother. He still couldn't believe she had her own daughter watch a man be burned alive.
But maybe that's why she sought out a scene with water this time, too much fire, and one can get burned.
It's… what I might've done. Sought peace and tranquility. Perhaps that's what bothers me most of all.
And afterwards she talked about her child like any ordinary mother would! Complaining about how they would get distracted by fanciful things, curtailing a child's creative ambitions to focus on their duties.
Just when Ubba thought his eyelids were growing heavy, he heard a knock on the door. He turned on his other side, hoping it was just a servant offering him refreshment given the trials of the day. That he could easily ignore.
But the knock persisted and grew louder.
"Ubba!" Ivarr whispered harshly through the door.
Ubba quickly shot up upon hearing his brother's voice.
He must be drunk out of his mind again. Better hurry before he causes more of a ruckus!
But upon opening the door, Ubba saw something he never would have expected.
That seems to be becoming the norm these days.
Ivarr was holding La Mère from behind. He gripped her own dagger tightly and pressed it firm against her neck. She remained as still as a statue, looking up at Ubba.
Her eyes were unreadable yet again. Not quite as cold and frigid as the gaze she bore earlier, but they were unsettling all the same.
"Ivarr?! What in the name of Loki are you doing?!" Ubba whispered harshly. He looked up and down the corridor, hoping no one would stumble upon the scene.
"This bacraut will answer for what her underling has done!" Ivarr growled lowly.
"Did you not hear King Ceowulf earlier?!" Ubba retorted. "He is to be tortured, by your hand, until he recants for his transgressions!"
"That's not good enough!" Ivarr spat. "I've had at the boy for a while and he hasn't broken."
Ivarr looked hungrily at La Mère's neck and licked his lips. Ubba knew his brother would love nothing more than to dig his fangs into her neck.
"What do you want, Ivarr?" She asked quietly.
"For you to break him. It's become apparent he's resistant to my…special toys." He giggled. "I'll give him that. Few can tolerate such pain.
"Just tell me he's alive." She said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, he's alive alright. I made sure of it." Ivarr said eagerly and looked at Ubba. "I want you to watch… unless you'd rather I handle the festivities alone?"
"Enough, Ivarr!" Ubba said. "I'll follow, just to make sure you don't kill them both!"
Ivarr giggled joyously and motioned for him to follow.
"Ubba?" La Mère asked.
"Hmm?"
"Could you…put on a shirt first please?" She mumbled, looking away bashfully.
Ubba felt his cheeks flush up and promptly slammed his bedchambers door. "A minute!" He said, his voice cracking.
He could hear Ivarr grumble some choice words, obviously frustrated with the delay.
Well played man…well played!