Warning: Implied domestic abuse and rape, but nothing explicit. Victim-blaming, prejudice, and manipulation, as well.

Please note that none of this is meant to offend.

Raw Ambition

Lotharingia had no intention of dying in some hovel in the middle of nowhere.

Since she was a little girl, growing up in the wilds of the Frankish homeland with her brother, she knew she was destined for more than a starving village of savage wildmen. The Frankish people were fearsome, but not strong enough to create something as vast and powerful as an empire – not while Rome still ruled the world. But anything can change if one has the drive to achieve one's goals.

She grinned viciously over a gold-plated goblet filled with expensive wine as she sat off to the side, watching her brother sit on a throne and listen to the petitions of his vassal states, as if he were the king rather than the frail human who wore the crown of the Kingdom of the Franks. Beside him, his wife kept her eyes lowered demurely to the ground.

Lotharingia almost wanted to laugh, seeing the once-mighty land of Gaul so reduced. Gaul was but a shell of her former self, the legendary scourge of Rome who had burned the city to the ground about a thousand years ago. She had been this way ever since the Kingdom of the Franks had found her where she'd been hiding from him when the Roman Empire finally fell to the swords of the mighty German tribes. As much as Gaul despised him for what he'd done to her back when the Empire was only just beginning to crumble, she feared him more – and she dared not defy him now, not when he had hold of what she valued most in this world.

A sneer spread across Lotharingia's face as she glanced at the cringing little boy who stood between two nervous young women. The mewling little bastard which Lotharingia's brother had put in Gaul's womb when he raided the village where she lived before the Fall – Gaul had named the boy "Gallia Lugdunensis," but his father now referred to him as "Neustria." The weak little brat looked the spitting image of his father, but he was a pathetic excuse for a nation who only made the Kingdom of the Franks angry with his disappointing crying and whimpering. Along with him were Gaul's two daughters, Gallia Narbonensis and Gallia Aquitania. Those two girls, despite how timid they acted, were far greater threats than their runt of a brother.

Aquitania, now "Aquitaine," was a devious little creature – she inherited her mother's beauty, but had a way of toying with male nations' affections that her mother lacked. Lotharingia knew the little witch even had young Visigoth wrapped around her finger. The older girl, Narbonensis, who was now calling herself "Provence," as if she was proud of having been a Roman territory, was more difficult to read. Like Aquitaine, Provence had male nations pawing at her skirts – though Lotharingia suspected the girl had as much interest in men as Gaul did (Gaul thought she could keep that little secret hidden, but Lotharingia knew just about everything that went on in this kingdom). Provence was wily, though, there was no doubt; she had bustling trade operations with countless foreign nations visiting her regularly.

Both the girls needed to be closely watched at all times.

"My lord," one of the attendants said to the Kingdom of the Franks. "Germania is here to see you."

"Well, don't just stand there, fool," the sovereign kingdom snapped. "Show him in!"

Lotharingia's gaze followed the solemn, heavy gait of the stern nation they considered the fatherland of the Germanic tribes. Germania, the hero who felled the proud Roman Empire, was not often seen at the Frankish court, though he sent his sons there to serve the Kingdom of the Franks. Not that he had much choice in the matter, as Lotharingia's brother had absolute authority over all these lands. Germania's sons weren't sitting idly by in their time as part of the Frankish Empire; Swabia had recently been named Captain of the Guards to their court and young Bavaria was an invaluable source of wisdom.

Germania, himself, was still as handsome as ever. Hard features, long blonde hair, and cold blue eyes. Many a female German tribe had thrown herself at his feet only to be rebuffed. He was very particular about which women he shared his bed with. His wives Suebi and Teuton were both dead and he had permitted the Veleti tribe to go back to her homeland. He'd since taken another wife, the Chatti tribe, right before they had all gone to burn Rome to the ground – the marriage was a sign of good faith to the German people, something to show that Germania was still true to his own kind. Lotharingia hadn't cared too much about it at the time, but the memory was proving vexing to her now that she had a particular goal in mind.

She watched Germania give the barest nod to the Kingdom of the Franks, and Lotharingia could see the barely-concealed ire in her brother's eyes. It had been brewing since the Fall of Rome. The Frankish tribe, now a kingdom and an empire, would never settle for anything less than the entirety of the western world and he refused to step aside and let Germania rule the united tribes as he was meant to. But Germania would not bow to him.

And that is why Lotharingia was determined to win him.

Lotharingia was walking arm-in-arm with Gaul.

They had been ordered from the room while the male nations discussed business. That was one of the many things Lotharingia hated about her brother. He'd never really had much by way of respect for women – not even for Belgica, arguably the most terrifyingly ruthless Germanic tribe of all (she had even scared Rome when he was alive). The Kingdom of the Franks had even imposed the barbaric Salic Law, something which stripped the human women of their right to own property.

"My dear brother seemed in foul spirits today, did he not, Gwenaëlle?" Lotharingia asked her sister-in-law, using Gaul's human name to place them on a more personal level than they actually were.

Gaul didn't answer, but Lotharingia felt her tense. Whenever that man was in a bad mood, his wife bore the brunt of it. She likely wouldn't be spending much time around her children for a few days; Gaul didn't want them to see the bruises he left on her, after all. Lotharingia felt it was what Gaul deserved for letting Rome take the fighting spirit out of her; if Gaul had been as strong as she once was, she would have been right there beside the victorious German hordes as they crushed the Roman vermin beneath their boots and then she would have been an equal partner in the alliance, rather than a broken plaything for Lotharingia's brother.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't entirely Gaul's fault. She couldn't help that she was one of Celt's offspring and naturally disposed to failure and weakness.

"I do believe our old friend Germania is not willing to obey Lothair's command for much longer," Lotharingia continued. It still rankled her that her nation name was so close to her brother's human name – she had every intention of changing it once she finally escaped this rat hole.

"Germania has never enjoyed doing the bidding of another," Gaul said quietly. Her voice was growing weaker all the time. Lotharingia suspected Gaul would not last much longer, especially since she had children to take her place.

"Indeed. Even under the yoke of Rome, his devotion to his people never wavered." Lotheringia's gaze darted briefly to Gaul. "Unlike some other conquered nations I could mention."

Lotharingia was disappointed that Gaul did not even bristle at the implied insult. From what she understood, Gaul would once have smashed Lotharingia's face in for such a comment.

"I wonder, dear sister-in-law," said Lotharingia. "Did you never pursue Germania?" She already knew the answer. She'd heard all about Gaul's interest in a certain bushy-browed island woman.

"No," Gaul answered blankly. "And he would not have wanted me even if I had. His heart belonged to Suebi and Teuton. It likely still does."

"I remember Suebi well, but I never met Teuton."

"I am not surprised. Teuton was a more eastern-dwelling Germanic. She and her brother Cimbri died fighting Rome."

"That must have been so painful for him. Are any of Germania's sons hers? I know at least three of them are Suebi's and most of the others were born to Veleti and Chatti."

Lotharingia had a vested interest in Suebi's sons. They looked to her as a mother figure rather than their stepmother Chatti. She intended to use that to her advantage. Swabia, Thuringia, and Bavaria had come to the court so lost without their mother and with their father gone all the time; it would have been foolish of Lotharingia to overlook the potential for cultivating them as allies. If she told Swabia to put a knife into her brother's back, he would do it and not ask questions.

"Yes, Teuton gave him a son," said Gaul. "The little silver-haired boy with the red eyes."

Lotharingia nearly, very nearly, made a face. That particular child was a loud-mouthed thorn in her side, always running around and causing havoc. She was hoping to send the boy off to a monastic order or find him some little scrap of land to lord over just to get him out of her sight.

"I see," said Lotharingia. She then paused and looked Gaul in the eye. "My dear Gwenaëlle, you do not look so well. Let us go to the gardens for some fresh air to continue our conversation and, tonight, I will convince my brother not to come to your room…for the sake of your health, of course."

That suggestion definitely roused some life back into Gaul.

Lotharingia had made good on her promise to Gaul and so the Kingdom of the Franks was persuaded to make a surprise inspection at the garrison on the far end of the city in regards to allegations that the commander had accepted a bribe from the Umayyad Caliphate to let Muslim spies into the city. Her brother was a paranoid man who would believe even the faintest hint of treachery was present. Whether her accusation was true or not, Lotharingia knew her brother would kill the man regardless when he found out the commander had a Muslim lover in his bed…a male Muslim lover, at that. The Umayyad were well-known for such proclivities, after all.

And there were no secrets kept from Lotharingia in this city.

So, after her brother stormed out of the dining hall with a squadron of his troops, she slipped into the private chamber Germania occupied when he stayed at their court and waited for him.

She did not have long to wait.

"Good evening, my lord," she said as soon as he took notice of her.

Lotharingia wished her clothes were more flattering than the heavy woolen tunic and veil she had to wear. It was difficult to entice a man when all he could see was a face and hands, but she doubted Germania would take it well if she'd been brazen enough to be lying naked on his bed when he arrived. He was strangely modest for a conquering warrior.

Germania wasn't sure what to make of the sight that greeted him upon retiring to his quarters.

He had certainly not expected the sister of his old ally – though he used the term loosely – sitting at the foot of his bed and giving him a look he was trying very hard not to interpret as an invitation. Germania was not blind to the attentions women sometimes paid him, but he was no philanderer.

He wasn't Rome.

Truth be told, he hadn't given Lotharingia much thought since the Fall of Rome. She'd been just a tribe, then, like her brother, though she'd since carved out a sizable territory to govern. She was the caretaker and guardian of a number of Germania's sons and had even taken Belgica and Frisia's young children as her wards.

Definitely a change from the cold warrior he'd seen that day so long ago. Clad in leather and ring mail and loose bits of gear she'd taken off the bodies of Roman soldiers, her hair shorn short at the back with a fringe in the front, she'd looked so much like her brother at the time that Germania had believed her a man.

Now, she was dressed in a long gown of rich green, embroidered with gold trim, with a gold circlet keeping a veil in place over twin braids of golden hair that reached down to her slipper-clad feet. Around her neck hung a gold cross, a symbol of her people's conversion to the Christian faith. Her face had become fuller and a little round now that she was able to eat regularly rather than subsisting off whatever she could scavenge. Her bright blue eyes appeared softer, gentler even. Everything about her seemed to say that she was a much kinder, more nurturing and elegant soul than she'd been the day she helped burn Rome to the ground.

Germania didn't buy it for one moment.

"May I help you, Lotharingia?" he said tiredly, hoping to get straight to the point.

"A word, my lord," she answered. "And, please, it would be my honor if you would call me 'Alpaida.'"

That had Germania on his guard. Nations seldom permitted their fellows to use their human names, save when those nations were close on a personal level or else when in the presence of humans not aware of what they truly were. Germania did not live as long as he had by playing the fool and he did not trust Lotharingia, if only for her overly-familiar behavior.

"I would rather you say your piece and leave," he said.

"Well, it was worth a try, at any rate," Lotharingia said with a sigh, crossing her arms and dropping the tender expression from her face. "What gave me away?"

"No one who has spilled as much blood as you or I can ever truly wash it off, no matter how finely we dress or how kindly we act."

"Would I have fooled you better if I had come to your chamber in tears, crying about how my cruel brother beats me?"

"Your brother wouldn't lay a hand on you. He will never admit it, but he knows he won't last if you were to turn on him."

"Hmm, another fair point. Lothair never does raise a hand to me."

He saves that dubious sign of affection for his wife, Lotharingia left unsaid, though Germania already knew about it. He'd been there the day Gaul appeared at Rome's house, caked in dirt and blood and begging for help after her first encounter with the Frankish tribe – Germania had been surprised by how much Rome really did try to help the woman who was once his bitterest enemy, especially since he hadn't shown the same courtesy to other nations.

Germania felt his mood darken at a particular memory that surfaced in his thoughts.

"I am afraid I must ask you to get to your point," Germania insisted. "Otherwise, I will have no choice but to physically remove you from my room."

"Very well," said Lotharingia. "I wish to leave my brother and I need your help to do so."

Well, that was certainly one way of capturing Germania's attention.

"I can understand your surprise," Lotharingia continued. "But I am perfectly serious. I wish to leave my brother's little empire."

"I see," said Germania. "I will admit that you did surprise me. But why do you wish to leave your brother?"

"It's a simple matter of competence. Lothair doesn't have any."

"A rather harsh sentiment towards your own flesh and blood."

"Do not act so self-righteous, Germania. I know perfectly well you despise Lothair for disrupting the German unity you envisioned when we all fought against Rome."

"Your brother broke a sacred vow to Woutan when he decided to listen more to his own greed than to the counsel of his neighbors."

"Vows to false gods do not mean much to followers of Christ. Why do you think Lothair was so eager to convert to a religion that holds itself above the beliefs of pagans? It is a useful tool for ensuring the loyalty of the humans."

"Is that why he hounds me relentlessly to be baptized?"

"He sees your pagan beliefs as an insult to him, personally."

"So he does not truly believe in the Christian faith?"

"Christianity is a religion that teaches kindness, charity, and forgiveness towards others and holds that a man should love others to the point of being willing to give his own life even for those that have wronged him. What do you think? But this is beside the point. I wish to leave my brother's empire and establish a new kingdom. And I am not alone in this aspiration. Many of your sons stand ready to follow me out of here, but I need you to help us secure this new kingdom."

"Why do you need me? You appear to have all this planned out. You even have my sons at your beck and call." Germania had to fight to keep the anger out of his tone at that. He did not like the thought that this woman was using his children for her own ends.

"Lothair will never all me to leave without a fight. To him, we are all part of Francia. But my future is in the east, in Austrasia where I and my brother were born. It is my destiny to return and claim my rightful place in the Rhineland. Lothair has no concept of how to govern these lands and his kings persist in carving up new kingdoms and duchies to grant to their worthless sons, no matter how much it strains the empire and sows dissent."

"But why me?" Germania persisted.

"I have enough kingdoms ready to leave, but we will only do so under the banner of a unified Germanic nation. So long as Lothair sits in power, we will be a singularly Frankish kingdom. I do not wish to rule solely as a Frank, but as a true German in service to my sworn chieftain. I want to form two joint allied kingdoms to resist my brother."

"What you are suggesting…such a pact would be like a marriage bond. And I already have a wife."

"You have been married to more than one female nation before."

"That was…in a different time. And you are now a Christian nation."

"And if you proclaim yourself a Christian nation, as well, then any bond forged with your pagan wife no longer need be valid."

"You suggest that I renounce my gods and put aside Chatti for your mad ambitions?"

"I suggest that you consider the best option for the German people. We may all be different tribes, but even Rome saw that we had always considered ourselves one race of Germani. Can you not see with your own eyes the discontent of your sons under the rule of the Frankish Empire? They long for their homeland and for German ways, not the strange ways of the south. These lands are too Romanized and strange for them. No, the only chance is to reclaim what is ours. Or has the Vaterland forsaken us?"

"I would never-"

Lotharingia reached up and grabbed him by the front of his tunic, pulling him in close.

"Then prove it," she said with a fierceness and passion that Germania had not seen in centuries. The last German tribe to have such strength inside her was Teuton, right before she…

No, he would put that memory to rest. He would not think of her again. But Lotharingia was giving him such a blazing look, filled with righteous fury, that he couldn't stop himself from seeing something in her that reminded him of his silver-haired shield-maiden. He wasn't entirely taken in, however; Lotharingia was more of a nixe than Germania was comfortable with and he was certain her motives were not as altruistic as she wanted him to believe.

But this could be his only chance.

He wanted out of this damned Frankish Empire as much as anyone. He had great respect for kings like Charlemagne, but more and more the Frankish monarchs seemed determined to forge their own downfall. Germania was concerned about the potential fallout his sons would face when the empire collapsed. Perhaps the only way to protect his family was to accept Lotharingia's offer.

He wouldn't be able to get away with leaving, himself, if he did not have Lotharingia at his side. If he declared for himself and himself alone, Lotharingia was the only force standing between him and her temperamental brother – and a woman scorned is a dangerous enemy. She already had many of his sons looking first and foremost to her, so Germania doubted his secession would be smooth without her. On her side, she needed Germania to give her own secession legitimacy and to provide her with a defender to the east against savage nations like Avar and Magyar.

One could not proceed without the other.

The only question that remained was: Did Germania have it in him to be that cold, that calculating, and that ambitious?

"I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Germania closed his eyes as the priest guided him to immerse his head beneath the waters of the river where the ceremony was taking place. The blessed Rhine, the sacred boundary that once delineated the border between Germania and Gaul, now gave birth to him anew as the Kingdom of Germany.

Lotharingia was now East Francia, soon to be his wife. Her brother, now referred to as "West Francia," had not taken her departure well and tried to force her to return to him, or else to forfeit the lands between them. She refused and now there was to be war. It was to be expected.

Everything was soon to change. For better or worse, Germania couldn't say. As he was raised back out of the waters, his sons cheering from the riverbank, he felt strangely light. Perhaps there was something to this 'Christian' business, after all. His sons certainly believed so. It was a difficult transition for Germania; every day prior to this, he feared the wrath of Woutan for abandoning his faith. He'd resisted Christianity for so long, it was like he was turning his back on everything he stood for.

And yet, water had never felt as purifying as it did in that instant. All his weariness and shame, all the guilt and sorrow he had felt, was simply gone. No longer did he feel the accusing eyes of Rome upon him and, for the first time in his life, he could feel the blood of those he'd slain cleansed from his hands and his soul.

East Francia had never felt as sure of her own power as she did when she sat on a throne with her young son in her lap. They were posing for a sculpture of the Madonna and Christ-Child that was to be placed in a new church, as befitting the wife and son of the Kingdom of Germany.

Chatti had been easily removed from her position as Germania's wife and soon after dissolved as a personification as her people vanished into the mix of kingdoms and duchies that flocked to swear allegiance to the new empire. Now, East Francia was by Germania's side, ruling as she had always been meant to, with a son fit to carry the legacy of their united German empire. She wished she could have named him according to what he was, but the church insisted on a name more linked to Christianity.

Her son was named the new Roman Empire, by one of Rome's own grandchildren no less.

The Holy See proclaimed this empire under the German ruler Otto the First to be the true and legitimate heir of Rome, despite having no Roman blood and, in fact, being the product of the ones responsible for Rome's downfall. East Francia would have laughed at the irony of it had she not known that the only reason the Holy See did so was because he refused to bow to the Byzantine Empire and the Eastern Orthodox faith. It was a choice between serving either a Catholic German or some Orthodox bastard from the Orient.

East Francia knew she had made the right decision convincing Germania to be baptized according to the rites of Chalcedon and not the Arian heresy that Goth, Vandal, and Lombard were so enamored of. Considering how miserably those three were faring, East Francia almost allowed herself to actually believe in God.

Far more nations had sworn their allegiance to her son than even East Francia had expected, as well. His half-brothers, of course, were ever-faithful and would stand by him; Bavaria, in particular, was a favorite source of counsel for the young empire. But then there were others, like the Kingdom of Arles – the German tribe of the Burgundians, now married to Gaul's daughter Provence and formed into an independent kingdom – joined to the empire as a sign of protest against West Francia's constant interference in the succession of their kings. After that, the Kingdom of Italy was conquered in order to stop their king from attacking the Papal States – yet another reason why the Holy See was so eager to support East Francia's son.

East Francia's son, already so strong and wise, had been extremely delighted by the acquisition of Italy. As yet, they had not captured the personification for the Kingdom of Italy, though East Francia's son said he had seen the child several times in passing, though the little foundling fled whenever he came near. He said the child was a girl, but, honestly, East Francia considered Italians so weak as a people that she couldn't tell the difference between their men and their women. Her son was convinced that Rome's grandchild was worth bringing fully into their empire, so east Francia would keep trying to find her for his sake.

Then there were the eastern nations that were falling under her son's banner.

Bohemia and Moravia were cementing a union and were petitioning East Francia's son that they be raised to the status of 'kingdom' rather than 'duchy' within the empire. East Francia knew of Moravia by the reputation of her father, Marcommani – a loyal German tribe, Suebi's brother, who beleaguered Rome's legions for centuries. Moravia's mother, on the other hand, was reportedly a Slavic tribe, which caused some raised eyebrows at court – the Slavs were a strange group, claiming to come from "Mother Slav," a nation as enigmatic and far-traveled as Celt with no real home but whose culture and language was deeply ingrained in the countries claiming descent. Bohemia, on the other hand, was a little more clear-cut. He used to be a Celtic tribe by the name of the "Boii," oddly not one of the typical failures produced from Celt's line, and Bavaria was willing to vouch for him as an old friend. Bohemia and Moravia made for an odd couple, but they brought much to the empire so East Francia welcomed them in.

Along with large, powerful nations like Bohemia and Moravia were smaller ones that East Francia felt could have some potential if utilized to the best advantage. Bavaria had come home one day with a little dark-haired boy clinging to him. He said the boy's name was "Ostarrîchi" and that he'd found the child wandering around the burnt ruins of the former Roman province of Noricum.

East Francia had heard about Noricum from Germania. A dark-haired, violet-eyed beauty of Taurisci blood who willingly accepted Rome as her master. By all reports, Noricum had died centuries ago at the hands of Goth and his sons. Swabia, then known as "Alamanni," had sent word during his campaign against Raetia and Vindelici that Noricum had been killed. If this boy was Noricum's child, he had likely fled into the Alps and hidden with the Helvetii after his mother died. Even though the land technically belonged to the Franks after the Fall of Rome and then mostly passed into East Francia's jurisdiction, no one really dared to go up there unless they had a death wish considering Helvetia's attitude towards trespassers.

The boy had also been found carrying a little baby girl when he was discovered. He said the girl's name was "Bright Stone" and that he was told to protect her. He also claimed his 'blood brother' was still up in the mountains.

East Francia persuaded her husband to take in the young waif and the baby girl. The boy was given the title of a Margraviate and placed in Bavaria's care and the girl was handed off to the nursemaids until she was old enough to participate in imperial matters.

It would seem strange how much a woman like East Francia appeared to care about all the children she took in. She had become a much-loved stepmother to Germania's sons, she was a foster mother to little Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg after their parents Belgica and Frisia died, and now she had taken in two strange children found among the ashes of a dead province of Rome. But East Francia always had another motive for everything she did.

Her son, her Roman Empire of German states, had a sacred destiny to rule the world and she would provide him with every ally she could gather. West Francia was already beginning to crumble under his own idiocy and East Francia would soon take his lands for her son to rule.

Who would stand in her way? Certainly not that weakling nephew of hers. The boy's mother, Gaul, had died not long after East Francia left and the boy's sisters were only interested in saving their own skins.

As long as East Francia lived, all would bow to her son. She would secure her son's birthright in whatever way she could for as long as she drew breath. Every kingdom, tribe, and duchy would remain within her sights at all times so as to ensure their unwavering loyalty.

CRASH!

"You will all submit to the Teutonic Knights!" a high-pitched, irritating voice echoed from up the nearby hall.

Now if only she could find some way to get rid of that one.

Author's Note: Wow, Lotharingia/East Francia is the most manipulative and ruthless character I've ever written.

I decided to make the Kingdom of the Franks a Grade A asshole because the Franks introduced the Salic Laws to Europe, basically ingraining the idea of women being inferior to men into Western culture and stripping women of their legal rights. Also, his relationship with Gaul is based on what happened to Gaul prior to and after the Fall of Rome. Gaul had been facing increasing raids from the Frankish tribes in the north, eventually being overrun by them after Rome was sacked, and the Romanized Gauls were forced to adapt to Frankish culture. The Franks were involved in the destruction of Rome (though the Fall was mostly engineered by the Vandals and the Goths), but they turned the tide on their fellow German tribes and started conquering them – hence why Germania isn't so happy with him, as that's the kind of backstabbing he hated having to deal with in the Roman Empire.

The Frankish kings were also incredibly short-sighted as they didn't see the issue in continuously carving up their kingdoms in order to ensure that each son had land to inherit, which eventually resulted in cutthroat politics and fratricidal wars.

And, believe me, I'm saying all this with the utmost charity, being a descendant of Merovingian and Carolingian kings, myself (I'm related to Charlemagne, like, twenty different ways – of course, considering how many children the guy had, a lot of people are related to him).

Gallia Lugdunensis/Neustria – the northwestern region of France which later transformed into the Kingdom of France.

"Alpaida" was the name of the mother of Charles "the Hammer" Martel. Charles halted the advance of Moorish conquest in Europe and was the grandfather of Charlemagne and partly responsible for the rise of the Holy Roman Empire.

Woutan – the Old High German name for Odin, a principle god of the Germanic peoples.

Austrasia was the name for the Frankish homeland along the Rhine, is just means "eastern kingdom."

Nixe – a German water-sprite known for trickery, reputed to drown unwary men in the river.

That's right, folks! The only reason the Holy Roman Empire was called 'Roman' was because the rulers were Roman Catholic and rejected the Arian faith (a heretical branch of Christianity that rejected the Trinitarian nature of God). Arianism was very popular in Germanic kingdoms, except among the Franks and Anglo-Saxons who remained mostly pagan until they were forced to convert to Chalcedonian Christianity.