Chapter 16 – Truths & Promises

Synopsis: Ceolbert has spotted Corliss crying in a church. His curiosity inflamed, he decides to investigate. Will he regret his decision, or will he reap an award he never imagined?

Meanwhile, Ubba is very much appreciating Melisendre's gifts. But as their first night draws to a close, an obvious topic comes up resulting in a not-so-expected conclusion.

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 warnings for this chapter: sexual content, mild nudity.

Ceolbert practically tiptoed down the pews as he approached the downtrodden Corliss.

Her hair was not as well kept as it usually was. Tufts of her thick blonde hair frayed in front of her face just enough to obscure her eyes from view.

Ceolbert's intestines twisted up into a painful knot.

He had only interacted with this girl twice.

The first being a ferocious call to action to support La Mère.

The second, albeit brief, had the same level of high energy.

Both times she referred to her own husband as an idiot.

But here, she seemed unguarded.

Whatever foundation that supported her bold personality had all but toppled.

He could only guess it was built of the sacrifices she had made, being in such an extraordinary position.

She undoubtedly had walls, hardened to the point where they were nearly impenetrable.

Valuable assets, which she had cast aside for the time being.

Or perhaps a great force had battered them to dust.

Don't tell me she's submitted to the will of God? She doesn't seem the type. Or perhaps part of her foundation is trusting the Lord?

He forced a quick breath in his lungs when he finally reached her.

Here goes…

"Corliss?" He whispered.

She didn't acknowledge him. Upon closer inspection he saw she was mouthing something.

Her voice was almost imperceptible, but he caught just enough to realize she was reciting the All Father.

His eyes widened.

Oh God! She's praying!

He felt like a fool caught with his pants down. It was beyond rude to interrupt someone in prayer.

Here he had come to God's house to find peace, and it appeared she had done the same.

Now wholly embarrassed, he turned to leave when suddenly Corliss lifted her head. Her shoulders relaxed, un-scrunching her slender neck.

"Yes, Ceolbert?" She asked. If she was annoyed by the intrusion, she wasn't showing it.

Not yet at least.

"I-I, erm, didn't mean to disturb you," he stammered. "I just wanted to see if you were alright?"

She rubbed her watering eyes with her sleeve.

"Um, yes. I'm just," she said, stifling a cough. She glanced up at him. "You can sit, you know…"

Ceolbert took her up on that offer a little too eagerly, as he plopped down on the pew behind him, the impact made a dense THUD.

Well played.

Thankfully for him, she ignored his awkwardness.

"I came to pray for my husband, for he is struggling," she explained. She crumpled a thick cloth in her hand and leaned back against her pew.

"As are you," Ceolbert said.

"His struggles are my struggles. And when they become too much for us to bear, I find refuge in God's house," she said.

Ceolbert frowned, uncertain if she was being truthful.

Her words sound rehearsed. As if she was tired of constantly repeating it to others.

Apparently sensing his skepticism, she glared at him.

Ceolbert gulped and scrambled to distract her somehow.

"Is his recovery both physical and spiritual?" He asked.

She nodded. "The latter requires more attention. He is young and fit, but…" she gripped her makeshift handkerchief tighter.

Ceolbert winced as the painful memory of La Mère torturing Swayne flashed before his eyes.

The man's excruciating screams would haunt him for the rest of his days.

He couldn't imagine Corliss' horror upon seeing her husband, mangled by someone they called mother.

It suddenly dawned on him just how problematic that was.

It bordered on idolizing La Mère in a way that directly conflicted with his beliefs.

If Corliss was a God-fearing woman, surely she felt the same.

She claimed to be more grounded in reality than Swayne, but she only said so in regards to the need for a monarchy.

"I am sorry," he said.

She made a steeple with her hands and deeply furrowed her brow. "How many times do I have to tell you - ?!"

"No!" Ceolbert cut her off and stamped his foot down. "I know his actions were beyond brash. That's not what I'm apologizing for! I need you to grant me some air to speak!"

Corliss leaned toward him, staring hard with her piercing amber eyes. "And why do you think you need my permission to speak?"

"Because you are incredibly intimidating!"

He silently thanked God his voice didn't crack just now.

Even if it had, he dare not shy away now.

He, like the rest of his companions, was growing tired of being stifled by La Mère and her associates.

Especially since Corliss reminded him of his rank just now, however subtle.

He knew that held power in his social circle. Not hers.

It was a deliberate ploy to make him feel safe by name alone.

He knew all too well how little that meant in her world.

Two worlds colliding, with radically different sets of assumptions.

Despite the end goal of forging an alliance, there were battles they had to endure first.

Not with axes, bows, and swords. But with words.

And they could be just as deadly, if not more.

Time to show I paid attention in my English lessons.

Corliss slowly shifted her weight to cross her legs, pivoting for her body to face Ceolbert.

He braced himself. He'd gotten her attention.

She beckoned for him to continue with a quick wave of her hand before resting her head in her palm.

"He didn't deserve what La Mère did to him," Ceolbert started. "Not just the beating, but the… the…" his lip trembled from the anger that suddenly swelled in his throat. "Berating! Just, my God! She made him question his very existence. What he fought for! What he loved!"

He shook his head. "I do not know his story, and I will not pretend I'm entitled to it now. But what I do know is whatever La Mère has done to him, not just for him as I'm sure she pulled him out from some horrible circumstance, it's created this unhealthy obsession! It's like he thinks she's not just his mother! But… but…!"

He now struggled because he simply could not find the words.

"A God," Corliss said calmly.

Ceolbert blinked. That was perfect.

Terrifyingly perfect.

Corliss closed her eyes and sighed.

Despite finding a shred of common ground Ceolbert knew she was more focused on her predicament.

He suspected the only paths she could take would be to deny him anything further and leave, or share her thoughts in a way that would betray her husband and leader.

As much as he didn't like it, he prayed she'd take the latter.

"I can't, and won't tell you Swayne's struggles in their totality. That is for him to share," she lurched forward, her eyes flying open into an intense stare. "Him. Alone. What I share now, it is in confidence."

Ceolbert nodded.

She exhaled and shoved her loose hair back. "Swayne was the first one La Mère saved."

Ceolbert's mouth flew open. "What…?!"

"What you need to understand, Ceolbert, is when you are at the bottom. The bottom. You become desperate. So desperate you think the only way you can be saved is by direct intervention of the divine," she wrapped her arms around herself. "Like the Hebrews called for a shepherd to free them from the tyrant pharaoh, we called for help. We called for God, but the only time we attended church was to have a roof over our head for but a moment," she let out a half-hearted laugh. "Until the guards kicked us out, that is."

Ceolbert gripped the back of his pew to steady his mind.

He'd seen drunks, children, and all kinds of people take refuge in churches like Corliss had just described.

He wondered if one such child was Corliss herself, but those faces had long since faded from his memory.

While he had offered a helping hand to them, his father would shoo them away and scold him for being careless.

For he feared his only living son would be taken advantage of. Something Ceolbert always found hard to grasp.

However, with La Mère now being a constant presence, he finally decided to take that lesson to heart.

Many of those were spies, and they certainly wouldn't scout out easy prey in one venue.

"But my faith in the lord our God has not wavered just because of what La Mère has done for me. She is no messenger of God. Nor a profit, messiah, saint, or a God at all," she held up a single finger. "'For false Christ's and false prophets will rise and show great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.'"

Ceolbert couldn't help but smile. For she had just quoted the bible from memory.

It was so refreshing to see a dedicated child of God.

Not that he minded the company of his pagan allies that much.

To share a faith though, that was something he could never have with them.

With Corliss, that common faith just might expedite the formation of an alliance.

A friendship, even.

She put her finger down firmly on the pew. "Despite the pride she rightfully has for all she's built, she's no lunatic!"

Ceolbert cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her lips pressed into a fine line. "Alright, she's a bit of a lunatic. But you need to have some lunacy given her position!" She said sheepishly.

Ceolbert chuckled. "I suppose…"

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Do you at least know what I'm saying?"

"Though your husband is obsessed with La Mère, you don't hold her in regard as a higher power," Ceolbert surmised.

She clapped her hands before spreading her arms, happy she made her point.

Ceolbert clicked his tongue. "I certainly don't envy you, but I hope you act as a steadying hand for him."

She gave him a half smile which quickly morphed into a yawn.

Ceolbert caught her yawn and covered his mouth. "Perhaps we should retire for the night."

Corliss stretched her arms and legs. "I suppose so."

"Just, one more thing…"

"What?"

"How does La Mère view herself, if I may ask?" Ceolbert put his hands his pockets wiggled his toes, eagerly anticipating her answer.

Corliss looked up at the cross on the churches mantle and blew air out of her nose. "Someone who bleeds just like the rest of us," she said simply.

She rose from her seat and bowed. "I really must take my leave. Have a good night, Ceolbert." She said before walking away.

As Ceolbert watched her depart a warm feeling formed in his chest.

Once again, he had been given a tale that sent his mind into a temporary flurry.

But rather than be spoke at, he was just spoken to as a fellow person.

A fellow Christian, no less.

He didn't know where his new role as Mercia's champion would take him, and the journey had become even more uncertain from recent events.

Rubbing shoulders with the legendary Ragnarsson's and La Mère des Bâtards was never something he imagined.

But for now, he took comfort knowing someone like Corliss was in their ranks.

And that was the truth.

The following morning, Ubba Ragnarsson struggled to catch his breath as he laid in bed.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, fearing he wouldn't be able to walk normally after the wild ride he just had.

With Melisendre at the helm.

He learned quickly that her flexibility and creativity seemed to know no bounds.

And Ubba got to reap all the rewards.

It is a good day indeed!

They'd taken their fun to a bed chamber she had set up for her "special business," as she called it.

The walls were draped with quality red curtains. Ornate patterns woven in with tungsten gold thread shone brightly against the torches.

Freshly oiled and lit, as maintain that wasn't a priority until recently.

He hummed as he recalled her incredible body. His hands all over her impossibly smooth, naked skin.

She practically threw him around, showcasing her endless knowledge on how to make a man happy.

No, that was insufficient.

How to make a man feel like a God.

The gorgeous madame was getting dressed, his back facing him. He took a moment to etch her plump buttocks into his mind.

Though he knew he'd see them again real soon, their presence alone was a much-needed boost in his morale.

Unless Ivarr claims her first. She'll want a taste of us both eventually.

He propped himself up with his elbows as his gaze crept up to her curvy waist. One he had grown very familiar with recently.

"Gods…" he breathed.

She giggled and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Are you satisfied, son of Ragnar Lothbrik?" She asked.

He grinned devilishly at her. "That has to be the most benign name you've called me within the last few hours."

She returned the smile, so beautiful it could make anyone fall in love with her.

"Don't tell me we're done!" Ubba whined playfully.

Melisendre sauntered over to the bed and straddled him.

He fought with all his will-power to stay under his blanket. For he feared he might ravage her again.

Or rather, she would ravage him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait until nightfall, Ubba," she snagged his bottom lip with her teeth, eliciting a sharp breath in from Ubba. "For now, I must go to La Mère."

She shot up and plopped down on a chair in front of an elaborate vanity.

The dark brown wood completely contrasted against her fair features. Further amplifying her incredible beauty.

"Undoubtedly to gossip about my performance?" He grumbled.

"No! What happens in the bed chamber, stays in the bed chamber," she winked at him. "That is a tenant which we hold paramount."

He gave a half nod.

That's reasonable enough. I bet Ivarr will appreciate it. Should the rumors be true on his performance, he wouldn't want that information getting out.

He shook his head. "I don't understand what you see in her, really," he threw off his blanket and perched on the bed.

Now, where did my underclothes go?

"We've been friends for as long as I can remember," she raked a finger through her luscious blonde locks. Realizing she couldn't untangle a few knots by herself, she resorted to a hairbrush she pulled out from one of the vanity's many drawers

She pouted. "But let's not talk of that here. I'd rather focus …" she eyed him against the looking glass, fixating on his crotch. "Other things…"

Ubba licked his dry lips before hoisting his pants up and fastening them with the appropriate strings.

You are NOT making this easier.

But he forced his naughty desires from his mind and focused on what was important.

Melisendre was no innocent, and not just because of what she was capable in bed.

She was one of La Mère's councilmen.

And if he was correct, they were close. Their bond reminded him of Sigurd and Eivor.

Siblings by bond, not by blood.

For once Ubba would entertain the bizarre "true family" concept practiced by La Mère and her crew.

Only time would tell just how much influence they had over one another.

What he did know for certain was he couldn't trust a word that came out of their mouths.

"If you fail to get on well, I can think of several ways to cheer you up," she said.

Ubba groaned. "I am not looking forward to being her guard dog!"

He suddenly caught a brief but definite look of worry on Melisendre's face. He fastened the rest of his armor and slowly walked over to her.

He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, rubbing her free collarbone with his thumb. "As long as she holds her end of this agreement, she has nothing to worry about." He leaned down so his mouth was right next to her ear. "The same goes for all of you."

Melisendre placed her hairbrush down and looked up at him.

"Will you promise to protect her then?" She asked.

Her ocean blue eyes focused hard on him. They practically glittered with energy and anticipation.

He shrugged. "I suppose."

She took his hand in hers and stood up, placing the other hand on his shoulder.

"I need you to say it, Ubba," he opened his mouth to protest but she silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I mean it. If not for her, not for me, then for Melodie. For all of us who are counting on her."

Ubba bit his lip and pondered a bit.

He could tell Melisendre was genuine.

This woman held La Mère in high regard, and was close enough to refer to her by name.

Love stood right before him. He could at least have the decency to respect that.

He placed his hands on his hips and stared directly into her eyes. "I promise."

She sighed in relief and kissed him on the cheek.

Gods help me!

She closed her eyes and smiled. "I do have a suggestion on how I could ease you worries about our current situation!"

Ubba raised his eyebrows, moving his hands to her waist. "Please tell me its what I'm thinking of right now?"

She shook her head, gently pushing him away. "Promise to help me?"

Ubba rolled his eyes and smirked at her. "Promise."

This ought to be interesting…