Lexy

Finan stayed down in the alehouse for another hour talking with Uhtred and Ragnar, before the three men decided it would be best to get a good night's rest. They would not be stopping until they reached Eoferwic, and then who knew what would happen from there. So, when dealing with the unknown, it would be best to enjoy a night on soft beds and under warm furs. 

Finan cursed to himself when he stumbled up the stairs leading to the hallway of rooms the inn keeper had given them for the night. The hallway was lit dimly with burning torches, lighting his path poorly until he came to the last door in the hallway on the left hand side. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside quietly. The only thing the Irishman could think of was the threatening words of Ragnar before the men all departed for sleep, “You won’t be touching our sister, Irishman.” The man could almost shiver at the narrowed eyes of the oldest sibling. 

Signe was buried under the furs on the bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin as she curled onto her side. She looked so much younger in her sleep. The crease between her brows was gone, her eyelids covering those green eyes that he found himself becoming more and more fond of as the days passed. She truly did look peaceful when she allowed herself a moment to rest, free of any and all worries. “Bar the door.” Her voice was so soft, Finan almost didn’t hear her. He almost jumped hearing her talk, but cleared his throat quickly and barred the room door before standing still at the foot of the bed. Signe had placed her armor and weapons neatly on the chair in the corner of the room, and her boots kicked off on her side of the bed. 

Finan copied her actions, leaning his sword on the small table beside the bed, slipping off his armor and sitting it neatly on the chair with the woman’s, before kicking off his boots. Still, after all of his puttering around, the man still felt out of place in the small inn room. “Stop standing there like an oaf and get in the bed, Finan.” Signe groaned from the bed, feeling the man's eyes burning holes into the back of her head. 

“It wouldn’t be proper, Lady.” Finan said quietly, making the woman roll onto her back and look up at the man. 

“I’m telling you to get in the bed, if you haven’t realized I don’t exactly fit the standards of a normal woman.” Signe spoke again, her voice heavy with sleep, and her eyelids hardly opened to look at him. Finan cleared his throat, before lifting the edge of the furs and slipping into the bed. He hugged the edge of the mattress, stiff as a slab of wood. The man could feel the blood rushing to his face as he laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Thank you for today,” Signe spoke softly, breaking the deafening silence between them. “With Athelwold, I mean.” 

Finan glanced at the woman who laid beside him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome, Lady.” He replied softly, not missing when the woman rolled her eyes.

“How many times must I tell you to stop calling me that?” She asked, a hint of annoyance lingering in her voice. Signe knew that Finan was respectful for the most part, he like any man, made crude remarks, but after weeks of traveling together he was always mindful of her presence. 

“It’s what you are, no?” Finan hummed in response, slowly relaxing the tension in his body as they talked. The redness of his cheeks still lingered, but he felt less like he was imposing on the woman’s sleep. The Irishman knew how much she hated the title, yet maybe that’s why he insisted on it. After all this time traveling together, he would by no means ever disrespect what she had done for him. The patience she had shared with him as she helped him regain his strength, the way she made sure his belly remained full after every meal. 

“I could be a lady of many things.” Singe sighed, turning on her side to face the man who remained so still beside her. “How much weight can a title like that hold when both of your brothers hold no claim to their homeland?” The question laid heavy between them, neither quiet knowing the correct answer. They were both silent for so long, Finan assumed the younger woman had fallen asleep once more. “Where are you from, Irishman?” Singe asked quietly, her eyes peering open slightly to observe the way Finan tensed slightly. Finan talked very little of his life before being enslaved, actually - he didn’t speak of it at all. 

“Small kingdom in Ireland." Finan muttered, the memories of his homeland distant yet still full of pain, even after all this time. “Was a prince back home, before I was stripped of my titles.” He spoke slowly, like he was afraid to come to terms with what he had done in his past, his greatest mistake he had ever made but also the biggest freedom. 

“You were a prince?” Propping herself on an arm the woman now hovered over the man who looked almost guilty. 

“The spare.” Finan spoke slowly, nodding his head as his eyes widened at the closeness of the Dane woman. “Married a sweet Lady, despite not loving her it was my duty.” The man’s voice was distant, revisiting a time in his life that held so much pain he could feel the bile forming in his throat. “I was in love with my brother’s wife.” His laugh was broken, sad. “We fled together, but it didn’t matter.” He hoped speaking of this would mean repenting, that God would finally forgive him of his sins. “They caught up to us, I was exiled and stripped of my titles. Sold into slavery after that, and that’s about when I met Uhtred.”  

Singe stayed quiet, observing the man as he closed his eyes. “Would you ever go back to find her?” Singe asked, bringing the furs up further as she waited for his answer. Observing the smile that broke out onto his face as Finan shook his head. 

“I would not, Lady.” Finan said after a moment. The life he lived in Ireland was long gone, nothing more than a distant memory that would forever remain locked away. He swore himself and his shield to Uthred, his loyalty unwavering in his newfound life. “I have no reason to return there, I enjoy my life well here.” Singe often found herself offering small acts of comfort ever since Finan’s chains were undone. So, she softly reached out and grabbed his hand that rested over his chest, offering what he knew to be one of those small comforts.  Without a word, Finan squeezed her hand tightly, before shifting to look towards the woman beside him. 

“I shouldn’t say I’m glad to hear it, but I have grown fond of having you around Irishman.” Singe said quietly, a small smile on her face as she softly admitted to the bubbling feelings the man so often made arise. Singe denied every man that so much as looked her way, denying Young Ragnar at every turn when he brought forth the idea of her finding a man to marry. It wasn’t without trying on the oldest siblings part, and yet at every turn the stubborn woman denied his advances. Yet, despite all the years of turning down any and all born and bred warriors, all it took was one Irishman to make her reconsider. The man who made a fool of himself and picked fun at others to make those around him laugh and enjoy themselves. The man who sat before her with so little, and yet tried to give those around him every part of his soul he had left. There was never a complaint, never once did Finan put up a fight or speak up in a way that disregarded others, unless their actions called for it. 

Signe couldn’t suppress her annoyance as the party trudged through the dirt roads on horseback once more. They were supposed to take back Dunholme, not do the King's dirty work again. That was such a life of following Uhtred who had renewed his oath with the King of Wessex. 

“When will we have sight of Eoferwic?” The sound of the Lord's voice was surely enough to make her ears bleed. It was quite possible that in the short span of time the party had been on the move, Signe had grown to dislike the King’s nephew more than the King himself. “I have never ridden for so long nor so far.” Athelwold continued to whine, making Signe grit her teeth in annoyance. Would he ever shut up?

“Have you a sore arse, Lord?” Steepa quipped from behind Signe, making the woman snicker slightly. Finan rode beside the woman, and shot her a tiny smile upon hearing her trying to hold back a small laugh. 

“I have a sore everything.” Athelwold confirmed. “I need a woman to rub and bathe me.” He called, making several men in the party laugh at his comment. Signe could feel eyes bore into the back of her head, burning a hole and she so wished to turn around and strike down the usurped heir.  

It seemed Signe was not the only one to notice the man's stare, because before Signe could even turn around to tell Athelwold to mind his place Finan spoke up. “Look at her again, I dare ya.” His voice had lowered an octave, making it come out almost as a growl. Signe raised a brow and looked to the Irishman beside her, but Finan’s eyes were narrowed at the blonde Saxon. 

“And what are you going to do if I can’t help myself?” Athelwold asked with a smirk, gaining the attention of both Ragnar and Uhtred. Ragnar looked over his shoulder, more than ready to put an end to the conversation about his baby sister, when Uhtred shook his head. Uhtred had his eyes trained on Finan, the Irishman looking as though he was ready to pounce on Athelwold.. 

“Then you best pray you don’t fall asleep tonight.” Signe could feel her cheeks dust pink, the heat radiating off them as she looked away from the man beside her. Signe was more than capable of putting a man in his place, especially one like Athelwold. It was the fact that someone else felt the need to step in instead and defend her, it was enough to make her heart stop. Finan finally tore his eyes from Athelwold before looking at Signe, her cheeks were less warm now as she looked back to offer a small smile in thanks. 

“We will be stopping soon enough.” Uhtred finally spoke, steering the conversation back into its original direction. 

“At Eoferwic?” Father Beocca questioned, he knew better than to believe Uhtred would follow the King's instructions to the T. 

“We ride first for Loidis.” Signe narrowed her eyes at her brothers, the pair wearing small smiles as Uhtred spoke. They were planning something, and she wasn’t sure what it was just yet. 

“What awaits us at Loidis?” Athelwold asked, annoyed, Ragnar looking over his shoulder back to the Saxon. 

“We shall see.” Ragnar told him, a small knowing smile on his face. Signe glanced from her brothers to the man beside her, Finan’s head thrown back as he embraced the sun on his skin; but his eyebrows frowned in slight discomfort. They had been riding steadily for hours, everyone was starting to feel the pain of tense muscles in their bodies by now. 

“Need I remind you first and foremost our purpose here is the King’s business.” Father Beocca told Uhtred, a slightly disapproving tone in his voice. Beocca always talked to Signe and Uhtred like a father would his children, maybe it was because the pair treated him like he was a father, or maybe Beocca still saw them as the small Saxon children they once were. 

“Nothing has changed by our path, Beocca.” Uhtred assured, making the priest roll his eyes. 

“We shall see.” 

Loidis was one of the smaller kingdoms Signe had ever stepped foot into. It looked run down, and the people in the streets looked miserable. It was understandable when the King that was supposed to rule over them was as useless as a newborn baby. Everyone was quick to dismount their horses, Signe groaning as she shifted dreading the pain of dismounting. “Let me, Lady.” Finan spoke, finding the woman's side quickly. 

“Thank you, Finan.” Signe grunted, her hands on his shoulders as the Irishman helped her down. Although it felt good to be on her own two feet again, the pain in her lower back only flared with every step she took. The woman found Finan’s offering arm, the pair walking behind everyone else as they disappeared into an alehouse at the beck and call of Brida. 

Signe was finally putting it all together now. Ragnar would have sent Brida ahead to summon the rest of his men, and Signe knew those loyal to him would answer the call. If Danes were anything, it was loyal but Ragnar seemed to have a way with people like no other. He made people want to follow him through words alone, his men cared little for money if they had him at the front lines. 

A small group stood by the door, Signe and Finan squeezing in beside Steepa as they watched Ragnar’s men rejoice in the return of their leader. Signe smiled fondly, seeing many familiar faces among the men that filled the tables in the alehouse. Most of these men were with them in Irland, and followed over the river into Wessex with the siblings. 

“Come, let’s sit.” Signe spoke, leading a small group of them to a long table off to the side of the room. Many of the men had now settled down, Signe ordering ale and food for the people amongst the King’s party. Everyone said little as they ate until their stomachs were full and their hearts were content, Signe squished between Finan and Steepa. 

“Duthred is seen as weak and friendless.” Brida finally spoke, breaking the silence among everyone as Signe watched over the rim of her mug. “These men won’t fight the brothers for a turd.” 

Uhtred sighed at the woman’s words, his eyes finding his sister from across the table. Signe shrugged her shoulders, a silent response that she agreed with Brida. There was no point sending Ragnar’s men into battle against the brothers when there was a piss poor outcome. “We need the turds army to take Dunholm.” Uhtred told both Brida and Signe trying to sway them in his favor. 

“So why not kill the Northmen, then the turd, take Eoferwic and its army for yourself?” Brida asked, Signe almost letting out a laugh at how quick she had come to the conclusion. Like it was the most simple thing in the world, but then again to Brida it probably was. 

“The woman’s got a point.” Finan agreed, rubbing his chin as he spoke. Signe nodded her head in agreement, although the idea was outlandish, it wasn’t the worst idea she had heard. 

“No, she does not have a point.” Beocca quickly shot the idea down, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Those are the words of a traitor.” Both Signe and Brida laughed at that. They were made traitors the day they were kidnapped all those years ago and raised by Danes. 

“I don’t want Eoferwic.” Ragnar hummed, uninterested in the idea of taking the kingdom for the Danes. “All I want is Kjartan’s heart on the end of my sword and to see my sister.” Signe nodded in encouragement to Ragnar. The second they take back Dunholm from Kjartan they would finally be able to reunite with Thyra. 

“We will need Guthred’s army.” Uhtred persisted. 

“I promised these men silver,” Brida spoke, her eyes only on Ragnar. “And the glory of avenging your father. Don’t dishonor them by getting them killed for Guthred, the turd.” She finished, her eyes on Uhtred by the end as she stood up to leave the table. Signe wanted so desperately to follow after the woman, and find a bed to lay her head on for the night. It seemed like forever since she had found the comforts of a real bed, even if it was a cheap one of an inn. 

“Oh Ragnar, your woman’s got the balls of a bear. I like her.” Finan said with a laugh, making Signe roll her eyes and nudge him with her elbow. 

“She’s right.” Signe finally spoke, breaking her silence since they had sat around the table. 

“What do you mean she’s right?” Beocca asked, looking at the woman who sat amongst them. 

“Beocca, these men are here for my brother. They would follow him if he so much as asked, but we can’t ask them to go ahead and die for a Christian king.” Signe explained, shaking her head. 

“Isn’t that what Danes do, fight?” Athelwold questioned with a smirk, making Singe let out a huff. 

“You better watch your tongue, before I cut it out of your face, pretty boy.” Signe threatened, smiling when Athelwold cowered further down the table and closer to Uhtred. 

“We cannot face the brothers alone.” Athelwold muttered, shooting the woman a small glare as she leaned closer to Finan, the two of them laughing amongst themselves. 

“Why not?” Finan questioned, clearing his throat as his laughter faded. 

“Finan, there is bravery and then there is stupidity.” Athelwold spoke with a false smile, making the woman groan. 

“The brothers have a camp, Athelwold do they not?” Signe questioned, quickly picking up on what Finan was suggesting. “An open camp.” 

“If it is Sigefrid and Erik we must kill, then let us do just that.” Finan spoke once more. “We kill them while they’re sleeping.” He concluded, making Signe grin similar to that of a cheshire cat. 

“Shadow-walkers, my dear friends.” Signe spoke with a grin. Everyone seemed to fall into an agreement with what the pair had suggested, making Signe nod her head. Using Finan’s shoulder for leverage, the woman stood from the table and bid everyone a goodnight. 

“Signe, we couldn’t get enough rooms so one of us will have to share with you.” Uhtred spoke, his eyes following his sister's figure as she made her way to the staircase. Signe groaned, her eyes falling on the group of men surrounding the table. Athelwold looked almost giddy when her eyes brushed past him making her glare at him. 

The journey to the nunnery was short, but the pit that settled in Signe’s stomach only grew larger as they stepped foot into the building. Signe held no personal ties to nunnery’s or the people in them, but she knew better than to attack unarmed and untrained helpless women. She knew priests were favored in the eyes of the king and lords. 

So as she stared at the body of a priest on the floor in the middle of the nunnery, Signe knew that uneasy feeling she had was right. In her moment of shock, Signe met Ragnar’s eyes from across the room. The oldest brother seemed to share the same sentiment as her, they were never getting their freedom now. Not even if they brought Uhtred back to the king alive, they would never be able to walk free from this. 

Uhtred called for everyone to follow him, as he led Gisela out of the building and back towards the horses. “The King will have our heads for this.” Signe hissed, grabbing Ragnar’s arm to hold him back from leaving. “Uhtred struck him down, but he is under our watch, brother.” 

Ragnar sighed, running a hand over his face as he processed his sister's words. “We will talk with the king when we return to Winchester, I promise.” Ragnar assured his sister, gripping her shoulder tightly in a small attempt to comfort her. Signe stared at the man in disbelief before shaking her head and stepping out of the building. She couldn’t help but glare at the back of Uhtred’s head as she mounted her horse. 

“Are you okay, Lady?” A voice broke the woman from her hate filled stare and to Finan. 

“I’m angry, Finan.” Signe deadpanned, making the man nod his head as they rode beside each other away from the nunnery. “We are to clean up yet another of Uhtred’s messes, and hope that the King doesn’t have our heads for this.” She told the man, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Perhaps the King will be merciful.” Finan spoke quietly, cowering slightly at the pointed stare she threw his way. “Then again, I’ve never met this King before.” He spoke quickly, clearing his throat as he looked away from her. If looks could kill, everyone in the party would be dead where they stand. 

When the week had come to an end, the sound of bustling streets greeted the party with open arms. They were finally back in Winchester, which only meant that Ragnar and Signe were to have an audience with the King. The siblings were brought to the throne room, with Steepa as their guard. Over the journey, Signe had come to not hate the man. Despite that, she knew that the man had no obligation to the Dane’s and would inform the king of what happened at the nunnery. 

Signe very rarely felt small in the presence of another. She had never cowered under the gaze of the King, and yet she found herself wishing she could hide behind Ragnar like a child. “You two have kept your word.” King Alfred spoke, stepping closer to the pair with his hands folded in front of them. 

“Yes we did, Lord King.” Ragnar spoke for the pair, standing tall as he did so. 

Signe let her eyes wander to Steepa, who stood off to the side watching the interaction unfold. “You have been granted your freedom from the crown. Horses and supplies will be waiting for you in the courtyard, you are free to go where you please.” Alfred told them, offering the smallest of smiles as he did so. Signe looked at the man confused, Steepa hadn’t had a moment alone with the King to tell him what had happened, and she was sure the King would change his mind once he learned of it. 

“Thank you, Lord King.” Ragnar said, bowing his head slightly in respect. The blond Dane nudged his sister slightly as he did so. 

“Yes, thank you.” Signe spoke quickly, bowing her head slightly. Alfred looked at Signe surprised but happy at the smallest form of respect she had shown him. 

“I will speak with Uhtred now, you two are free to go.” Alfred dismissed, making the two scramble out of the room quickly. 

“Don’t look too happy, brother.” Signe warned. “The King will know soon enough.” 

“Yes, well, let’s enjoy this for a moment.” Ragnar told her, the two of them being cut off by Brida being escorted towards them. Signe offered the woman a small smile, patting her shoulder before slipping away to allow the pair a moment alone. It had been a long time since they had been able to see each other, or be alone without Signe there for that matter. The woman stepped into the courtyard, finding Finan talking to Hild and Father Beocca. 

“Father Beocca! What a surprise!” Signe spoke happily when her eyes landed on the man. 

“Signe, it is lovely to see you, my child!” Beocca greeted, bringing the woman into his arms. Signe laughed lightly as she wrapped her arms around the man, enjoying the feeling of his embrace for a moment before she pulled away. 

“Come with me to the alehouse, we should catch up.” Signe said, making the man let out a small sigh. 

“I wish I could, but I have to go with Uhtred to see the King. Save me a seat for after.” The man told her, making Signe’s smile falter slightly as she nodded in agreement. Signe turned to Finan who watched the interaction fondly. 

“Irishman, you’re with me.” Singe told him. “I require Ale, and a night of being drunk.”

Finan let out a barking laugh as he took the woman’s arm leading her out of the Castles courtyard. “That my Lady, I can help with.” He told her, as they made their way through the crowded streets of Winchester. 

It wasn’t long before the pair had huddled themselves in an alehouse, mugs in front of them as Finan scanned the room. He had never been to Winchester before his slavery, and Signe had never been able to walk these streets freely. The pair talked quietly amongst themselves, Signe laughing as a woman passing by let her eyes linger on Finan. “Finan, you are free to find yourself a woman to bed while we are here. You do not have to stay with me.” Signe told the man who sat across from her, feeling a strange pang in her chest as she spoke. 

“Oh I’m very aware of my freedom to do so, Lady.” Finan spoke with a grin, his eyes looking back to the woman who had passed them. “I’m afraid none of them have caught my interest enough for that though.” He told her, lifting his mug with a grin. In the time Signe and Ragnar had been in the presence of the King, Finan had cleaned up slightly. The dirt that coated his skin was now gone, and Signe had to admit he was quite handsome. 

“Well, you’ve caught plenty of their attention.” Signe told the man through a small laugh, her eyes falling to the door of the alehouse as Ragnar stormed through it. The woman cleared her throat and sat taller while Ragnar slumped on the bench beside Finan, calling for one of the barmaids to bring him a drink. “What crawled up your arse and died, brother?” Signe asked, tilting her head to the side slightly to observe her brother. Finan snorted slightly, trying to hide his grin behind the rim of his mug. 

“You are aware that our brother renewed his oath?” Ragnar asked, nodding at the barmaid handing him a mug overflowing his ale. Signe sighed and looked down to her hands that rested in her lap before looking back to her brother. Should she be surprised that Uhtred had renewed his oath to the King? Uhtred was loyal, and his word meant more to him than any God ever would. 

“I’m sure Uhtred had his reasons for it.” Signe muttered. “He did kill a man of the lord.” She mocked, a small smile tugging at her lips as she said it. Rangar chuckled at his sister's antics, shaking his head in disbelief before silence hung over the trio. 

“Will you stay with him?” Ragnar finally asked, looking almost like an injured pup as he did. 

“Do you ask as a request, or fear of me leaving you behind?” Signe asked, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Both?” Ragnar and Signe had been side by side for years now, he didn’t know if he was ready to see her go just yet. 

“I think Uhtred may need me for a while.” Signe said softly, picking at the wooden table with her fingernail. Signe didn’t want to leave Ragnar’s company, he let her do as she pleased, gave her several men when she was going into battle, and never pushed her to fight for the things she didn’t believe in. She also knew Ragnar would never stay in Winchester while Uhtred carried out his oath with the King, he would go and find his men and find somewhere to settle. She felt as though she was at a crossroads, she wanted nothing more than for both her brothers to be in the same place for more than one day. Uhtred would need any able body and loyal person to follow him this time around as he found his footing once again. “I do expect a welcome party when I come visit in Dunholm.” 

“What’s in Dunholm?” Finan finally asked, leaning forward to get a better look between the siblings. Signe grinned, looking from Ragnar to the Irishman, copying his actions by leaning over the table slightly. 

It wasn’t until the next day that Uhtred woke up. Honestly, Signe had grown slightly worried that her brother would never wake up. When he finally did approach the group, he was walking beside Hild almost looking brand new - almost. His beard had been trimmed, but his hair was still matted and wild. He had been changed into fresh clothes, but the thing that brought Signe the most comfort was seeing the sword nestled between his shoulders. Uhtred’s sword was an extension of him, they were truly one in the same. So seeing her brother approach, walking taller brought her some hope; he would be okay. 

The men within the camp made haste at taking down the camp and packing everything away. They would start the trek back to Winchester this afternoon, making camp halfway tonight. If everything went well then they would be returning to the chaotic atmosphere by the weeks end. The road back to Winchester was quiet, men talked amongst each other, the sound of horse hooves steady as they went. The sun was warm for early spring but it was welcomed nonetheless. 

When they setted to make camp that night, Signe sat quietly, her eyes narrowed at the fire. A figure sat beside her but Signe didn’t need to look to know who it was. It was Finan, settling on the grass beside her as he groaned at the ache that riddled his muscles. “You sound like an old man.” Signe told him, a small smile tugging at her lips due to the shocked expression Finan shot her. 

“I am the embodiment of youth, I’ll have you know.” Finan defended, shoving the woman's shoulder in retaliation for her words. 

“Ah yes, the actions of a child and yet the body of an elderman.” Signe hummed, laughing quietly as the man beside her grumbled to himself about being called old. 

“I come over to keep you company, and you insist on mocking me.” Finan sighed in disbelief, a small chuckle slipping past his lips. “What has kept you so quiet today?” The man asked, looking over to Signe. The fire accented her beautifully, her skin glowing under the light. Her green eyes trained on the flames, a small frown adorning her lips as her eyebrows knitted together. 

“Nothing.” Signe denied. The woman broke her eyes from the burning logs to the man that sat beside her, his eyes narrowing at her. 

“I wish I believed that.” Finan hummed, leaning back on his elbows as he embraced the welcoming heat of the flames. “You’re a horrible liar.” 

“I’m okay.” Signe assured, resting her head on the top of her knees. “I have just been wondering where fate will lead me next.” It wasn’t a complete lie, Signe was unsure where her path would stray once she was granted her freedom. Would she and her brothers set out of Dunholme and finally avenge their family after all these years? Would her brothers go separate ways once again, leaving her divided as she was left to choose who to follow? Signe was uncertain of it all, and she was always the one that was certain of everything. Things were changing around her quickly, and when it came time to make the decision on where to take herself, she wasn’t sure what she would choose. 

“I thought you said your Gods would lead you to where you need to be?” Finan asked, his eyes on the back of her head as he spoke. “Just have faith that they know what they are doing.” 

“Thank you.” Signe said softly, her eyes drifting to the others around them. 

“Signe! Tomorrow we set out to go get my woman.” Uhtred called to his sister, the woman looking at him confused. 

“Your woman?” She asked, how did she not know that Uhtred had someone waiting for him? “We gave the King our word we would bring you directly back.” Signe told the older man, shaking her head in protest. “I would prefer to actually be granted my freedom.” 

“It’s been decided.” Ragnar told the woman, a small sigh slipping past his lips as their eyes met. Something was going to go wrong, Signe could feel it. Despite the feeling in the pit of her stomach, Signe nodded her head in agreement. If Uhtred wanted to go and get this woman he was so desperate to get back, she knew there was no choice but to help him see it through. 

Uhtred told his siblings all about the woman, Gisela. She was the sister to King Guthred, and they had grown fond of each other during Uhtred’s time with the underwhelming king. “For your sake, I hope this Gisela is nothing like her brother.” Signe commented, her eyes narrowed at Uhtred. “I do not wish to continue hunting you down.”

“Lady Gisela is a very kind woman.” Hild spoke, sending Signe a warning look. Uhtred was still not fully himself, but Signe did not know when to keep the comments to herself unfortunately. 

“We should all rest, it will be an early start if we wish to get to the nunnery and back to Winchester before the King sends out a search party for his search party.” Ragnar spoke up, standing from the log he was resting on. Everyone agreed, quickly finding their bedrolls and settling down for the night. 

“Are you coming?” Finan asked, looking down to the woman as he stood from his spot in the grass. 

“I’m not tired.” Signe denied. “I will take first watch.” 

“Lady, you said the same thing last night as well. You need rest.” Finan urged, his arms crossing over his chest. Brown eyes stared down at her full of worry, but Signe could only shake her head. 

“I’m fine, Finan.” Signe uttered quietly. “Please, do allow yourself to rest. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Finan sighed, looking from the woman who sat in front of the fire, and the group of people resting peacefully. “Come get me if you need company.” Finan finally said softly, before turning to find his own bedroll. Signe watched as he walked away, making sure he was settled under furs before letting out the breath she had been holding. 

She hardly thought anyone would notice that she took watch two nights in a row. When one of the men had woken up to take over last night, she insisted he went back to sleep and enjoyed a few more hours of sleep. This time of year was always hard for the woman, for it was during the early days of spring that the three siblings had lost their parents. Uhtred was out with Brida that night, Ragnar was in Irland with their kin. It was Signe who fought Kjartan and Sven trying to save Thyra. She watched their homestead burn to the ground, hearing the screams inside from the people she called family. It was always the nights during spring where her dreams would be littered with Sigrid crying out for help. The lingering sounds of Earl Ragnar telling her everything would be okay. 

Signe would refuse sleep for as long as it took for the dreams to subside once again. She would sit further away from the fires at night, staring at it hatefully as the logs crackled and the embers burned brighter than the sun. Her green eyes lingered on her brothers sleeping for just a moment, she couldn’t help but feel jealousy. Neither of them were there with her, neither of them were there to help her that night. Instead they both got to sleep soundly throughout the night, while she sat awake fighting her own eyes to stay open. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she insisted that Finan went to sleep. The sky was still dark as she carved into a small piece of wood, before the sound of footsteps broke her from her concentration. Her hand gripped her sword tightly, ready to attack when her eyes landed on Finan. The man yawned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, before he was greeted with a sight of Signe about to pounce on him. 

“What are you doing awake?” Signe hissed, placing her sword down on the ground beside her once more. “I almost killed you.” 

“You couldn’t even if you tried.” Finan quipped, the furs he had draped over his shoulders clutched tightly in one hand. He lowered himself beside her, leaning his back against a log as he sighed. “Couldn’t sleep knowing you’re up alone.” He spoke, answering her question before she even had time to ask. 

“I’m more than capable of keeping watch alone.” Signe muttered, looking up at the man sitting beside her. Finan looked down to her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“I’m fully aware of that.” Finan agreed, taking the furs from off his shoulders and spreading them across both their laps. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“Finan please-” 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Finan cut her off sternly. “You won’t sleep, you refuse to tell me why. We’re friends now right?” Signe nodded her head at the question. “Well I don’t know how Dane friendships work, but typically with mine you tell your friends what’s keeping ya awake at night.” Signe groaned at the man's stubbornness, stretching out her legs in front of her. “So are you going to tell me or what?” 

“Nope.” Signe quipped with a smile. “I will be fine, now will you just sleep?” 

“Absolutely not, I’m here to keep you company.” The man told her happily, settling himself comfortably in his spot. Signe rolled her eyes at the man, letting her eyes rest on the stars above them. She always did love the stars, she remembered trying to count every single one she could see when she was a child. She had come a long way since those days. “You like the stars a lot.”

“I do.” Signe agreed, her eyes meeting Finan’s. “If you looked at them instead of me, you would know that they are truly beautiful.” She told him, not missing the way the Irishman’s face turned pink at her teasing words. 

A day had passed since the initial saving of Uhtred and Finan. Uhtred had been left to sleep and regain his strength, but as Signe persisted, Finan would not sleep during the day. His appetite had slowly started to come back to him which made Signe happy to see. He slowly added more to his plate over every meal. She had found Finan new clothes to change into, the pants were a little loose but over time he would fill them out. The tunic hung low on his chest, but the armor he had been given fit against him well. 

“Here we go, I found something a little lighter for the time being.” Signe spoke proudly, approaching the man with a sword in her hands. It was smaller than hers, but she had not been the one that was starved and weak from months as a slave. The blade was sharp and balanced, and over time Signe would ensure to find him something more suitable. “It’s a little small for you, but it’ll be good until you regain your strength.” 

“Thank you, Lady.” Finan spoke quickly, taking the sword from her offering hands. Signe was right, it was small in his hands compared to what he was used to, but the weight didn’t make him buckle underneath it. 

“Would you like to practice?” Signe asked, her hands tucked behind her back. “It could help build muscle again.” 

“I think that would be good.” Finan agreed, making Signe grin. 

The woman unsheathed her sword quickly, holding it up defensively as Finan copied her actions. “Don’t hold back on the Irishman, sister.” Ragnar quipped, walking up to the pair when he saw them pulling out swords. The oldest brother was almost concerned, until he saw the smiles on both of their faces. 

“I wouldn’t know how to do that anyways.” Signe grunted, making the first lunge that Finan blocked. 

“I thought you had a boastful reputation?” Finan snickered, lunging forward quickly. The sound of swords blocking one another caught the attention of several men in the camp, and before Signe knew it, the pair had drawn an audience. 

Finan’s hands shook slightly as he gripped the sword tightly, something that Signe noticed quickly. “You are capable of more than this Irishman.” She grunted, blocking a blow he threw her way. “We will find that strength once more!” She pushed forward, ducking under the man’s arm as he swung. Signe was small, which was something she always appreciated during battle. She would weave her way in and out of opponents easily, giving her the upper hand. Signe wrapped her arm around the man’s neck before he had time to process where she was, holding her sword against his throat which made several people around them cheer at her victory. 

“You did well.” Signe panted, releasing the man from her hold. Finan’s breathing was labored, but he couldn’t shake the smile on his face. Even if it was just a simple spar, that was the most alive he had felt in months. “We will find that warrior in you again, I’m sure of it.” 

The pair walked further into the camp, Signe grabbing two cups of water and handing one to Finan. The man wasted no time gulping the cool water down, making Signe laugh over the rim of her cup. “What’s so funny?” Finan asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. 

“Your beard seems to be just as thirsty as you.” Signe quipped, noticing the water that didn’t make it into his mouth, drenched the hair on his face instead. “Let me cut it please, I’m sure it would feel like a weight being lifted off your shoulders.” 

Signe had worked on cleaning out his wounds all morning yesterday, and scrubbed any dirt she could see from his skin. She had only asked once if he would like for her to cut his hair, but Finan was sure when he declined her offer. The man eyed her carefully, weighing out her offer as she sipped the water from her cup slowly. It didn’t take a fool to know that the overgrown beard was itchy, as well as heavy. If he did it himself, he was sure to cut his face. 

“Fine. But you make sure those hands stay steady.” Finan finally agreed, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. Signe laughed at the demand, she had never had wavering hands once in her life. 

“You have my word.” Signe mocked surrender, holding up her hands in defense. She grabbed his arm lightly, pulling him towards a log to sit on. “All you have to do is sit still, wouldn’t want to hurt this pretty face would I?” Signe hummed, pulling her dragger from her belt. 

“Did you just call me pretty, Lady?” Finan asked, raising his eyebrows in questioning as Signe guided his chin to look up at her. 

“I would never.” Finan chuckled, closing his eyes. The man sat as still as he could, Signe standing between his legs as she stood above him. Her tongue poked out between her lips slightly, her eyebrows frowned in concentration as she slowly trimmed down the beard. It had taken longer than Signe had originally anticipated, but she made sure not to nick his skin, and worked as gently as she could. “There we go.” Signe spoke, breaking their silence as she stepped back to admire her handy work. “I knew there was a man underneath all that hair.” 

Finan reached up, running his hand over his jaw slowly. He thanked God that she didn’t get too crazy and get rid of his beard completely, but he couldn’t help but feel relief. He felt lighter, almost like himself again. “Should I do your hair next?” Signe asked, looking at him expectantly. 

“No. Thank you though, Lady. I do appreciate it.” Finan declined, standing up as she secured her dagger once more. He wasn’t ready for that step just yet. He was happy to clean up slightly, to take care of himself for the first time in many months. Finan would never have to know the life at sea again, but he needed to accept that on his own terms. 

“Well you’ll know where to find me when you change your mind.” Signe told him, patting Finan’s shoulder as she walked away from him and towards her brother. Ragnar watched his sister approach him from under the shade of one of the tents, a small smile on his face. 

“The Irishman is fond of you.” Ragnar spoke once she was closer to him. Signe rolled her eyes before sitting on the bench beside him. 

“He needs a friend, brother. That is all.” Signe denied, her eyes finding Finan as the man spoke with Hild. 

“He needs more than a friend.” Ragnar pushed, nudging the younger girl with his elbow. Signe let out a laugh as she shook her head in disbelief. “He has not left your side since the day before yesterday.” That was true. Finan had gravitated to Signe ever since she had initially taken care of him. She didn’t mind it nearly as much as she had thought she would. Signe did not do well with people following her around, but it never felt like Finan was. They conversed freely, the words never failing either of them. He didn’t push her when she would go quiet, the both of them enjoying the peacefulness of each other’s presence. 

“He’s not so bad.” Signe finally said, smiling when Finan met her gaze from across the camp. 

“You are fond of him as well?” Ragnar questioned. 

“He’s tolerable.” Signe said with a shrug. Ragnar let out a laugh at the response. Signe was stubborn, something that seemed to run through the bloodline. She had never shown interest in any man, always saying how she would never become the type of wife that stayed home with the children. “For a man.” She added in, making Ragnar shake his head in disbelief. 

“I do hope you get married before the end of my days.” The man told his sister, making the woman shrug her shoulders before standing up. 

“Hild will take care of you while I am gone.” Signe told Finan, the man looking at her in surprise. 

“Where are you going?” Finan asked quickly, his eyes wide as he spoke. Signe offered him a small smile, her hand resting on his shoulder in a small action of comfort. 

“I am going for a quick hunt.” She told him. “I will meet you when I’m back, promise.” She gave his shoulder a soft squeeze before turning on her heels and walking away. She passed Ragnar on her way, leaning into her brother to tell him where she was going. With the promise of being quick, Signe grabbed a quiver of arrows and a bow from out of the supplies they carried with them, and left the camp. 

Signe always enjoyed hunting, it was quiet. The only things around her were the tree’s and the sound of songbirds as she walked through the lush greens quietly. The bow held tightly in her hand as she crouched down out of sight at the sound of ruffling in one of the nearby bushes. This is why she loved being out on her own, there was no one else to distract her. No one else for her to remind to stay quiet, no one to scare away her hunt. Slowly, Signe reached back into the quiver to grab an arrow, notching it and pulling the bowstring back. She waited for the ruffling to get louder before releasing the arrow and hearing a small thump. Smiling to herself, Signe stood up to collect her bow and the rabbit that she had caught successfully. 

The woman continued her hunt alone until the sky was turning orange. She was satisfied enough with her hunt, having several rabbits strung together on a piece of hide string to carry easier. Throwing the hide string over her shoulder, Signe made her way back to the camp on the beach. She didn’t realize how far she had gone, but she couldn’t complain about the time she had to herself. Being locked away for months, listening to only Brida and Ragnar talk made the woman realize how much she took some things in her life for granted. Signe liked being alone, she liked traveling alone, hunting, horse riding, anything that she could do on her own. There were many times when she would stay up after Ragnar and Brida had gone asleep just so she could enjoy a few hours of peace to herself. Sometimes Signe didn’t understand how people had so much to say, especially when there was nothing for them to do but sit and stare at the same walls for days on end. 

She had missed the sea of stars, the welcoming embrace of the forests. Even the hustling of villages, or the yelling of drunken men in alehouses. Signe knew that there was no way she would ever be able to go back into that cell, she could not be a hostage to the King ever again. 

When she had gotten back to the camp, there were several small fires started and men sitting around talking amongst themselves quietly. “There is my sister.” Ragnar greeted upon noticing the girls return. He gave her a warm smile as he took the hide string from her shoulder, handing it off to one of the passing men to take care of. “Come sit, the air is getting cold.” Ragnar encouraged, placing a hand between her shoulder blades to guide her in the direction of their fire. 

Stepping closer to the fire Signe’s eyes landed on Uhtred who sat on a boulder, a blanket secured tightly around his shoulders as he started into the fire in a daze. Signe hummed to herself, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of Uhtred’s head as she smoothed down his hair. The woman found a seat on the ground, between Ragnar who sat on a log and Finan who was also sitting in the dirt. Everyone sat until the sun had set over the horizon, the fire being stoked every once and awhile by Steepa as they ate. 

“Halig.” Uhtred whispered, everyone’s eyes falling upon the man who didn’t bother to look at any of them. Signe let out a sigh as she rubbed her arms slightly feeling a cool breeze pass by them. 

“We cut him down. He’s been wrapped and buried with a shield and sword.” Ragnar told Uhtred. Signe knew it was a Saxon ritual to bury the dead, but Halig was also Uhtred’s right hand man, and for that he was given a warrior’s burial. 

“You will say words for him, Hild.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, Uhtred needed Hild to speak for their friend, to pray for him. Signe didn’t hate the Saxon’s for who they were as people, she hated them for being so close minded when it came to their ‘true God’. Yet she liked Hild, the woman who spoke of her religion in a way that never forced any of the Dane’s around her to feel less than. Maybe it was the fact that Signe and Uhtred were born Saxon, and had been baptized by Father Beocca that made it easier for them to sway to the Christian ways. 

“I have.” Hild told Uhtred with a nod. “I will, always.” Signe had never met Halig, but the way that Finan and Hild spoke so highly of the man made her wish she had the chance. If not to say that he was a good man, then to be able to pray to her own Gods that he would be granted safe passage in the next life. 

“Northumbria is torn.” Signe spoke quietly, her eyes settling on her brother from across the fire. Her arms wrapping around her legs as she rested her head on the top of her knees. She felt that her brother had the right to know what had happened in their homeland while he was gone. Things were normally messy in the North, Saxon’s and Dane’s constantly at war over land. Ragnar nodded in agreement with their sister. 

“Aelfric did not come to Guthred’s side.” Ragnar spoke. “Erik and Sigefrid and Kjartan… they do what they please.” Kjartan seemed like a thorne in the side that couldn’t be found. He kept popping up in whispers wherever the siblings went, like his soul mission in life was to taunt them. 

Uhtred said nothing as Ragnar spoke, maybe the blonde Dane sigh. “You haven’t asked how we have come to be here.” Ragnar tried again, but Uhtred never looked away from the fire. “Alfred.” Ragnar pushed, a small chuckle slipping past his lips. Talk of the King broke Uhtred from his daze, slowly looking between his brother and sister. “Alfred has sent us.”

“I believe the King of Wessex cares for you brother.” Signe said with a small smile. In all her years of life, never did Signe think that Uhtred of all people would earn the fondness of a King. Every one fell silent once more, listening to the tide overlapping on itself, crashing against rocks. 

“You’re Uhtred’s brother?” The voice of the Irishman beside her asked. “And sister?”

“We are.” Ragnar answered. 

“You look nothing like each other.” The comment gained a laugh from both Ragnar and Singe. It was true, although not many were brave enough to question it. Signe was Uhtred’s blood, they shared many similarities to each other and to Saxons. Yet it was Ragnar who never treated the siblings like they were anything less than family over the years. Growing up Signe and Ragnar were never close, the man was always off fighting battles and going on adventures while Signe and Uhtred stayed behind at the homestead. It wasn’t until the fire set by Kjartan and his men that Ragnar allowed Uhtred and Signe to get close to him. The fire that took their parents and Grandfather would always be something that haunted her sleep. 

“You should eat Uhtred.” Hild spoke, offering a plate of food to the man. Uhtred didn’t move to accept the food, so she turned to the man beside Signe. Finan shook his head, scrunching his nose slightly in response. 

“We will eat, Lady.” Finan finally said. “Both our stomachs are small, and our feet have barely touched dry land.” He told Hild. “It’ll take a little time to find them.” Hild seemed to be satisfied enough with the answer, and set the plate to the side for now. Signe couldn’t imagine how it must feel to set eyes on food being offered to you and being full after a few bites of bread. 

“Are you his brother?” Ragnar asked Finan, Signe looking at the man as well. 

“We are… we are bound I would say.” Finan spoke, his voice small but firm. 

“Then it looks like we all are now.” Signe said, placing her hand on Finan’s shoulder and giving him a small nudge. Finan let out a chuckle as he nodded his head. 

“It would seem that we are, Lady.”

Not long later, Ragnar had called it a night. Leaving the fire to go find his bed roll, being followed by Steepa, Hild and Uhtred. Signe sat poking at the fire with a stick, moving the logs to allow them to burn evenly. “You should rest, Finan.” Signe spoke, not looking up to the man who laid on his side, his head propped up on his arm. 

“I’m not tired, Lady.” Signe looked at the man, his eyes were hooded as he spoke, fighting off sleep. Signe let out a small laugh as she shook her head in disbelief. 

“Trust me, I am not the best company to keep. If you would like to stay by the fire for warmth I can grab your bed roll, but you must rest.” Signe spoke more sternly, Finan looking up at her through his lashes as he finally agreed. The woman disappeared from the fire, rummaging through piles of supplies before finally grabbing two bed rolls. She grabbed a few furs as well before turning to go back to the fire. Finan was laying on his back now, his arms tucked under his head as he looked up to the sky. 

“You do not believe in God, do you Lady?” Finan asked quietly, accepting the bed roll that she was handing to him. The two quietly made their spots beside the fire, Signe pondering on his question as they did so. 

“I believe in the Gods, although I did once pray to yours.” Signe finally said, laying down on the worn out bed roll, pulling the furs up to her chin. She laid on her side to face Finan, the man copying her actions. 

“What made you change?” Finan asked, his eyebrows frowned. 

“You God did not favor me.” Signe spoke quietly. “The Dane’s that took us in taught us of the old Gods, how they care for their people. I honor them because they have guided me to the path I was always supposed to take.” Her answer was careful. 

Most people didn’t care to ask why Signe followed her Gods so proudly. Some that knew of her and Uhtred’s origins would sometimes pity them, assuming that they blindly followed Gods for the sake of survival. That may have been true at first, but the Gods had never led Singe astray. She didn’t need to pray to them and helplessly wait for a sign. She was sure in her actions, she let fate decide her path. 

“Fate does not lead us astray.” Signe spoke once more. “You trust in the Gods and they will lead you where you need to be, when you need to be there.” 

“Would you say that it was fate that you were here today?” Signe smiled at the question. 

“I do believe so, yes.” Finan nodded, finally allowing his eyes to close. 

Upon returning to Winchester, the siblings had an audience with the King to tell them everything that they had learned on their journey. “The first full moon after Sigr Blot?” Alfred questioned, stepping closer to the siblings as he spoke. 

“Yes Lord King, they will return to refresh their crew, and find trade off any remaining slaves that have turned weak.” Signe spoke, her chin tilted high as she spoke. 

“Then you will set out in time to meet them there.” Alfred told them, nodding his head in the direction of the guards. “Until then you remain here, where we can ensure you stay true to your word.” A guard latched a hand around Signe’s bicep, making her grunt as she shook him off. 

“I know how to walk you fool.” She spat, stepping away from him and following the guards back to the cells. They would remain here for almost a year, waiting to be beckoned by the King once again. The cell clicked as the guard locked her in, the woman shooting glares at the back of his head as he walked away. 

“How was it out there?” Brida asked the siblings, she was just happy they returned safely. 

“How well do you think if we are back here?” Signe grunted, kicking up hay that covered the floors. “Waiting to be called upon like some pathetic lap dogs begging for a goddamn bone!” Her foot made contact with the wooden plank she had been using as a bed over the months they had already been her. The noise rattled through the cells as she kicked it again. 

“Signe that is enough!” Ragnar called, his hands gripping the cool metal of the bars of the door. “We will be released when we find Uhtred.” 

“If he lives long enough to see spring.” Signe muttered, sitting down on the wooden plank, her back against the stone walls. Signe knew Uhtred was strong, he had the will of a thousand warriors in the body of one man. Yet she could not give into the hope that her brother would survive months at sea, and months during the harsh winters before docking back in Wessex. She wanted to believe that her brother was strong enough to endure the life of a common slave, but she knew almost no one ever did. 

Day’s quickly blurred together, the trio running out of stories to reminisce on. The only indication to the months that had passed by were the furs that were brought down to keep them warm through the winter. Hild would sometimes come to visit, but she never stayed long when she did. Father Beocca had come to visit Signe once, it warmed her heart to know that the man still cared for her after all of these years. 

Too much time had passed when Ragnar and Signe were brought before the king again. They were given clean clothes and ordered to bathe before being brought before him. Stepping into the throne room Signe allowed Ragnar to do the talking for them, she wasn’t sure if anything she had to say would be acceptable in the presence of the man. 

“You will set out with Steepa and Hild. It should be a week's travel to arrive at the beach Sverri is said to dock at.” Alfred told the two, sitting comfortably in his chair covered in the finest furs. “You are granted as much time as you need in order to get Uhtred back in health and back here in Winchester. With your word you will not deter from the path back here.”

“You have our word, Lord King.” Ragnar agreed, bowing his head slightly. Signe stood with her hands folded behind her back, glancing around the room and at the patrons that gawked at her. 

“You have Ragnar’s word.” Signe uttered. “You get nothing but my sword.” People around them gasped, but Alfred was too used to the attitude that was being directed towards him. He had been on the receiving end of it from Uhtred the entire time the King had known the Dane. 

“That is just as good.” Alfred told her, waving his hand in dismissal. The two Dane’s were guided out of the throne room and to the courtyard to prepare. 

“You need to watch that tongue of yours sister, it will get you killed.” Ragnar hissed, his hand wrapped around her arm as he pulled her away from the guards and towards the horses. 

“I will not bend the knee to such a man, you have a kind heart Ragnar… it will get you killed.” Signe spat back, accepting her weapons from one of the servants. “Let us just go and save Uhtred, assuming he is alive, and take back our lives.” She spoke, securing her sword and other knives before mounting her horse. 

Ragnar said nothing, before doing the same as his sister so everyone could head out. The air was warm, but the nights were still cold as they traveled. In order to make time, rest periods were short for the horses, and camp wasn’t made until right before nightfall. The closer the beach got the smell of salt and sand grew stronger. It almost made Signe feel giddy at the thought of being reunited with her brother. Day’s turned into hours, which turned into minutes before Ragnar looked at his sister who rode beside him. 

“You stay close to me, you hear me?” Ragnar hollered over the wind, making Signe nod her head in agreement. It was always the same order before battle, the only rule. Stay where Ragnar can see her. Signe knew that there were others waiting for Uhtred. He had made a mess for himself before he was enslaved. There was talk of him taunting those of Dunholm, spearing the head’s of men before the walls of the kingdom. Sven the one eyed, son of Kjartan, had always wanted revenge on Uhtred, and this would be the place and day to get it. 

The men around her let out cries of battle before they broke over the hill with swords drawn. This is what Signe loved about battle, no matter how big or small, the adrenaline pumped through her veins like water through a river. Signe broke from the group slightly, raising her sword before striking down one of the fleeing Danes. She worked her way through the men quickly, her eyes catching sight of a blonde mounting a horse hastily. Sven the one-eyed. Pulling on the reins to redirect her horse to go after him, Ragnar called after her. 

“Leave him Signe!” Ragnar yelled, making the woman pull her horse to halt. She looked between the fleeing man and her brother, breathing heavily as she did so. She could deal with him right now and rid the world of one more useless man. “I said leave him!” Signe glanced in the direction once more, Sven no longer visible. She groaned before sheathing her sword and climbing off her horse. Her skin felt sticky from the blood of the men that had fallen by her sword, but she didn’t have a moment to care about it now. Her eyes searched for Ragnar in the crowd of men, finding him curled around another, Uhtred. 

Signe pushed her way through the men around them, falling to her knees beside Ragnar and throwing her arms around her brother. “Signe?” The voice was small, cracking through chapped lips as he spoke. Signe would know that voice anywhere, and all that hope she had suppressed over the last few months had bubbled over. Tears welled up in her eyes as she squeezed the man's shoulders slightly. 

“Did you really believe we would abandon you?” Ragnar asked, as sobs raked through Uhtred, the man clinging to his siblings desperately. Signe’s eyes wandered as they held onto one another, a man standing behind Uhtred almost protectively. His hair was disheveled, his lips cracked and chapped, skin red from days in the sun. 

“Release them all!” Signe called, her eyes falling to the guards they had traveled with. “They walk free with their lives today.” Ragnar patted his sister's shoulder, standing to his feet to help free the men of their chains. Uhtred clung tightly to Signe, making the woman softly smooth down his hair. “I’m here brother.” She whispered, moving to cradle the back of his head. “You’re free, you’re safe.” 

The sound of a sword being lifted from the ground caught Signe’s attention. She shifted her eyes to find the man that was once standing behind Uhtred, stumbling towards the man that kept them enslaved for almost a year now. Signe slightly nudged Uhtred, gesturing to the man as they watched on. The death of Master Sverri was quick, if Signe had blinked she would have missed the man falling to the floor as he choked on his own blood. The man who had been so close to Uhtred fell to the floor, his arms falling above his head in exhaustion. 

“Help him sister, please.” Uhtred whispered, his voice unsure. 

“Of course brother.” Signe hummed, rubbing the man's shoulder as she motioned for Ragnar to come over to them. Ragnar was quick to take Signe’s place and held up Uhtred as the woman scrambled to her feet. “Uhtred has asked that I take care of you.” Signe spoke, forcing her voice to come out softly. She was sure that there had been enough yelling and harsh voices used over the past months to last him a lifetime. She had hoped to give him some peace in the time they would travel together. She slowly lowered herself to sit on her knees, almost like she was scared of scaring off rabbit in a hunt. “What is your name?” Signe asked quietly, her eyes scanning over the man as his head lulled to the side to meet her gaze.

“Finan, my Lady.” He told her, the words harsh against his dry throat. 

“Please, call me Singe, Finan.” She told him, her hand catching the arm of a guard who was passing them. “Fetch some water so we can get Finan cleaned up.” She told the man. 

“Yes, Lady.” The guard spoke quickly, scurrying away from the pair to do as the Dane had ordered. Signe pulled her waterskin from her belt, pulling out the cork and handing it over to Finan who had slowly sat up.

“Drink.” She said sternly. 

“Thank you, Lady.” Signe rolled her eyes at the name, had she not just told him to call her by her name? The guard she had sent off to fetch water was now running back with a bucket in his hands. Water sloshed over the sides of the bucket, soaking the ground as he went. Singe was quick to take the bucket from the man, thanking him and sending him on his way once more. 

Finan now handed the waterskin back to Signe, his hands shaking slightly as he did so. “Finan, would it be okay if I touched you?” Signe asked, her green eyes meeting Finan’s brown ones. The man studied her silently for a moment, before slowly nodding his head. The man couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched by a gentle hand. He was used to being on the receiving end of a whip or a hand, so her gentle touch almost scared him more. “Let’s start slow, okay?” Singe hummed, feeling how his body would tense as she so much as untied the cloth that held back his hair. “We will tame this hair of yours for now. Perhaps tomorrow we will clean out your wounds.” 

“I would appreciate it, Lady.” Signe nodded her head in agreement, she quite enjoyed the sound of his voice. The accent that laced it was heavy, and one that she knew well. Irish from Irland, she had spent years there with Ragnar and Brida before their imprisonment. Slowly, Singe moved so she sat behind Finan. It didn’t take long for him to ease under her touch, the woman telling him everything she did before she executed the process. Every time she cupped water over his head, untangled a knot, and used her fingers to smooth back his hair, she told him every step. Signe replaced the old cloth he used to tie his hair back with a strip of leather she used to her own hair, securing it properly before smiling to herself. Finan was sitting with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around his knees as she worked. 

“Would you like to rest here for a while longer?” Signe asked quietly, now sitting with her knees pressed against the man’s back to provide him with some support. Finan only nodded his head, breathing in the freedom that he was granted today. Signe watched as guards surrounded the bow of the ship, her eyebrows frowning when she noticed them untying a body. A chill ran through her body at the thought of such a brutal death. 

“Halig.” Signe looked down to the man who rested against her legs. “He was Uhtred’s man.” Finan told her, his voice full of remorse as he spoke. Signe recalled Jonis telling her that he sold off a Saxon man with Uhtred. 

“Would you like to pay respects to him?” Signe asked, helping Finan stand to his feet when he agreed. “I will take you to Hild, she knew Halig as well. You two can pay your respects together.”

“You’re not coming?” Finan asked, taking the arm that Signe offered when he stumbled. The woman helped him walk towards the group that worked at digging a grave for the man. It wouldn’t be much, but it was all they could do for him now. 

The path was not easy, finding Uhtred would not be an easy task. It took days to get to Cumberland while traveling with a large group. The only person that the young woman had bothered to talk to was Hild, a woman of her God. It pained Signe to say it, but she did enjoy the woman’s company. Signe would leave her to her prayers every so often, not wanting to impose on a conversation between the woman and her ‘true God’. She even found herself no longer rolling her eyes when any of the other Saxon’s that she and her brother traveled with would make comments about their Christian religion. 

Arriving in Cumberland reminded Signe of entering into an abandoned village. The people looked starved and exhausted as they watched the newcomers approach a large building in the center. “Sister Hild,” A man spoke from the balcony of the structure. Signe frowned her eyebrows at the man, her eyes narrowing in a gaze. She knew a priest when she saw one, but she had never known them to speak in a King's absence. “And company. What business brings you here?” The man questioned, his eyes lingering on the two Dane’s amongst the group of Saxons. 

“We are here on the orders of King Alfred.” Ragnar spoke, sending the man a sarcastic smile. “I wish to speak to King Guthred.” 

The man observed Ragnar for a second longer, before the only thing he could let out was; “You are a Dane.” Signe had to suppress the scoff, but she could not help herself from rolling her eyes. There was no denying that herself and her brother stood out from the others like a sore thumb. 

“I am.” Ragnar replied, this time his smile was genuine. Signe grunted as her horse shifted from under her. They had been on the road all morning until they had reached Cumberland, and she imagined they would not be resting within the village tonight either. The conversation between the others held no interest to her, instead she found solitude in picking at the skin around her fingers. 

“Uhtred is lost.” Signe’s ears perked up at the sound of her brother’s name. Her eyes landing on a new man before them, he looked weak; like a gust of wind would knock him over. 

“Lost by your hand.” Signe spoke, many around them turning to face the woman who had been silent. “You are the one who sold him, no?” 

“I am truly sorry, Uhtred is lost. I need to gather my thoughts.” If granted, Signe would have gotten off her horse at that very moment and gone after this King herself. If they did not find Uhtred, he would be long gone; or worse off dead. If Uhtred was dead, then no one would get their freedom back. Signe ignored the small girl that weaved in and out of the horses, handing Hild an apple, as the king disappeared into the building once more. 

“If you are truly sorry you will give me the name of the slaver!” Ragnar called, but it was no use. The only men who remained were the priests. 

“Uhtred is indeed lost.” One of the priests said, before they too disappeared into the building once more. Everyone looked between each other, it was Ragnar who would decide their next move. Signe could see her brother struggling to come to terms with what they had been told, her eyes drifting to Steepa who was stationed behind her. 

“We leave Cumberland. We will set up camp away from here, it would not be wise to stay the night.” Signe spoke, Steepa nodding before calling for the rest of the group to make haste. There was not a moment spared as the group left the walls of the pathetic kingdom, making camp half a day away. 

“Thank you, for stepping in when I could not.” Ragnar spoke, lowering himself down onto the log Signe had claimed. The woman said nothing, but nodded in response as she stared into the crackling embers of the fire in front of them. 

“I was afraid of what I might do if I stayed the night within those walls.” Signe muttered, her eyes falling to her brother beside her. “Besides, I would like to enjoy every moment outside of a cell incase we do not find Uhtred.” 

“Do not say that Signe, we will find Uhtred. We will bring him back to the King and we will finally take back our homeland.” Ragnar told the woman. 

Signe sighed, looking from her brother to the star painted skies above them. The warmth of the fire was welcoming in the late hours of the night, most of the men now sleeping peacefully around them. “The day of overthrowing Kjartan is close.” The two shared a look, a small smile tugging at the corners of Signe’s lips. “We will show no mercy when we avenge our family.” 

“Not an ounce.” 

At first light the group had packed up their camp and made way for the slavers that would know more about Uhtred’s whereabouts. The whereabouts of the slavers were known by many, but no one dared to go close to their camps for fear of imprisonment themselves. The thought of such a place sent shivers through Signe, how cruel does one have to be in order to sell another man away like a farm animal? 

When the camp was in sight, Ragnar looked over his shoulder to his sister. “You will stay close to me at all times, do you understand?” 

“I am more than capable of fighting off a few pathetic men.” Signe uttered, but nodded her head when Ragnar did not so much as chuckle at her words. They rode into the camp, Ragnar requesting water for the men and horses which was granted happily to them.

Ragnar nodded his head to Signe, signaling the girl to follow him as he approached the man and boy in front of them. “You are Jonis?” Ragnar questioned as Signe placed her hand over the hilt of her sword as she stared him down. 

“I am.” The man quickly replied, his eyes flickering between the pair. Signe had come across many men like him in her lifetime. They were weak, using their men's lives at their own disposal in order to be the ones who live. He carried a sword but Signe had a feeling he would wield it no better than the child that stood beside him. 

“We’ve been told that you took a man, a warrior, from Guthred of Eoferwic.” Signe spoke, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. Joins gulped under her stare, Ragnar nodding at the man as encouragement to answer the question. “You sold him as a slave, correct?” Signe pushed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her sword tighter. All she needed was one reason to kill the man where he stood, only one reason to free the slaves huddled together under the shade of a tattered tent. 

“I see the faces of so many creatures.” Jonis spoke, his eyes now on Ragnar alone. Creatures? This man was brave enough to look Ragnar in the eye and call these people as creatures, they’re own brother. 

“I’m not here to open your belly, Jonis.” Ragnar told the man he was always the more calm one when it came to speaking to others. Signe liked to talk with her weapons, getting information was much quicker that way and she was growing bored of the talk. 

“Not yet.” Steepa spoke, approaching the siblings and the man. 

“I would yield to the tree, before he starts using his fists.” Signe hissed, her green eyes not breaking from their glare. 

“I’ll pay you.” Ragnar offered, making Signe roll her eyes. Nothing in this world would come for free, but paying a man like him is never wise. 

“You will not feed the slaves!” Jonis yelled, making everyone look to Hild who stood under the tent handing out bread to anyone she could. 

“And you will not bark like a great fat hound!” Hild yelled back, making Signe snicker to herself. Signe was happy that Hild was so strong willed, she was truly a woman that could hold her own. 

“You said you would pay?” Jonis questioned Ragnar. 

“You think my brother tells you lies?” Signe asked, stepping forward only to be dragged back by Ragnar. The blonde Dane dug into the coin pouch he had, tossing a piece of silver to the boy who stood beside Jonis. 

“The warrior slave, called himself Osbert.” Signe’s eyes widened at the name. She had not heard the name Osbert in many many years. The name dead to the man who once possessed it. Ragnar glanced between Hild and Signe before tossing the boy another coin. “There was another man, smaller, Saxon.” Signe glanced to Hild, hearing her breath catch in her throat. They were never informed of another man being taken alongside Uhtred, but by Hild’s reaction he was quite the important Christian man. “A sea trader named Sverri took them both.” 

“Where is Sverri now?” Hild asked. 

“Wherever the sea and the promise of silver takes him.” Jonis told them. “Life at the oar is hard and short.” Signe shivered at the thought. Spending days and nights on open waters, rowing until your body would eventually give into exhaustion. “Sverri will return, I’m sure. To refresh his crew.” 

“When will he be back?” Signe asked, looking up to Ragnar as she feared the answer they would get. 

“Autumn and winter will pass, but come spring, the first full moon after Sigr Blot, we will gather for business at the beach.” Jonis informed them. Summer was hardly at an end now, by the time spring came that would be in almost eight months time; if not longer depending on how the Gods favored them. “Sverri will be there, I swear.” 

“And between that time he sails where?” Ragnar asked, his eyes narrowed in an attempt to block out the sun. 

“His ships plough the roughest sea, he could be any place.” Jonis confessed. 

“You tell us nothing.” Hild said in defeat, throwing her arms down to her sides in disbelief. 

“I tell you what I know to be true.” Jonis defended. “All you can do is watch the beaches and wait.” Ragnar nodded at that, everyone making their way to collect their horses to leave for Winchester. Signe lingered behind, stepping closer to Jonis and grabbing the collar of his tunic. 

There wasn’t much to remember of life before Earl Ragnar adopted two Saxon siblings. There wasn’t much worth remembering. Even when you’re young you can tell when you’re not wanted by those around you, you can see the way people treat you differently. Being adopted and brought into the world of the Danes, and given a new name to honor her new mother. Signe spent most of her youth learning sword-skills, anything that Earl Ragnar would show her- the girl made sure to excel. 

“You’ve gone quiet, sister.” The voice pulled her from her thoughts, her head lulling to the side as if to hear better. 

“Don’t blame me, I’ve been staring at the same brick wall for weeks.” Signe retorted. Although she couldn’t see her oldest brother, she knew he would be snickering at her attitude. 

“We’ve all been staring at the same wall, Signe.” Another voice called, this one was further - Brida. Ragnar’s wife always had something to say about Signe’s attitude. It was the same attitude that had almost gotten her killed several times while they were with Guthrum and Skorpa. The woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Brida’s words, biting her tongue before she would say something she’d regret. When the only thing you hear day in and day out are the voices of the same two people, no matter how much you love them, they will start to get on your nerves. 

The sound of loud footsteps made Signe sit up straighter against the wall she propped herself up on, watching as a man she knew in passing came down the stairs. “You three, come with me. The King has called for you.” Steepa called as guards unlocked the doors to the cells. Signe stepped out of the cell cautiously, her eyes finding Ragnar’s as she did so. 

“The king called for us?” Signe asked, looking up to the man before them. Steepa was a tall stocky man, built like the trunk of a tree. Ragnar reached out to nudge his sister, giving her a warning look as he shook his head. It was enough to be hostages of the King’s, but to be dead by his sword was a fate Young Ragnar didn’t wish to see for his sister. 

Guards walked behind and in front of the three as they walked through the castle. Signe couldn’t recall the last time they had been let out of their cells to walk, let alone walk right into the throne room to be in the presence of the King. The green painted doors, chipped and worn, were thrown open with a bang as they stepped over the threshold of the throne room to approach the man who seemed to be most of the undoing in her young life. 

“Young Ragnar, I have a task for you.” King Alfred spoke, his eyes floating to Brida and Signe who stood on either side of the man. “And you alone.” The King held no sentiments as he told the siblings of their brother’s fate of being sold into slavery. The task for Ragnar was to locate the traders and find where Uhtred was, and under any cost bring him back to Winchester. 

“I will not do it without my sister, Lord King.” Ragnar finally said, murmurs being heard around them upon the defiance against the king’s orders. Alfred allowed his eyes to fall upon Signe, Uhtred spoke of her often when he was sworn to the King. Father Beocca only ever spoke of the young warrior in the highest regard. Signe was the spitting image of Uhtred, she held herself high, her chin tilted up as if in a challenge. 

“Father, would it be so bad?” A voice spoke, Signe’s eyes falling to the red-headed girl who stood off to the side. The King looked to his daughter before returning to the once Saxon woman before nodding his head. 

“Very well.” The King spoke, his hands folding in front of himself as he stepped closer to the three Dane’s. “I expect I have your word that you will return back here, if you would like your dear wife returned to you safely.” He said, his eyes floating from Ragnar to Brida. 

“Our swords for our freedom, yes?” Signe asked, stepping into the conversation for the first time.