#tlk angst

It was a love neither expected. You had been found just outside a still burning village. You had been bloodied and bruised, but the armour that remained on your body told them you were a warrior yourself. Lord Uhtred had only agreed to you joining them on Finan's insistence. You were clearly a fighter, why would you not have been an asset to their group?

That had only been the start.

His insistence had built something between you both. He would find himself searching for you after a battle. You would become his focus more often than not over his own safety, even though you were more than capable to handling yourself.

Some tried to argue against Finan's trust in you. You were a Dane, you had been found in a village burned down by Danes. But he would argue you were not the only Dane in their group, why should he trust you less than anyone else?

To him, you proved time and time again that you were not the sum of your blood. Fighting at his side whenever you were called for. Finan couldn't count the amount of times your help had been what saved him from a far worse fate. And maybe, having you at his side made him fight harder, gave him something to fight for.

But your naysayers never seemed to leave. Especially, when the group would cross paths with other Danes. Not necessarily members of your clan, but it always seemed as though names were known no matter whether they had met or not.

Names carried far more wait for your people than it seemed to for the Saxons. And today just so happened to be one of those days.

You stood beside Finan, blood splattered on your face and clothes, your blade barely held in your hand. The battle had not been intended, though it seemed Lord Uhtred simply attracted them over seeking them out.

Five men lay between you and Finan, more splayed across the muddy floor of the forest. The group had been ambushed. Not all the Danes in question had recognised you, but one almost said a little too much. The image still swam in your mind.

Your sword had sliced his throat as the words threatened to escape from his lips, blood replacing them as he crumpled to the ground. You were half sure you had once fought at his side.

But you knew what he planned to say, and in that very moment you knew such a revelation would put your still precarious standing in the group at even more of a risk. And you couldn't have that.

It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the closest you felt you had ever been to danger. You knew keeping something back, especially from Finan, was a risk in itself. He trusted you and you trusted him. Shouldn't that mean you could tell him anything?

But it was still too soon, you told yourself. Maybe one day. On your terms.

Finan turned to you, as the others wandered to join you. Each covered in varying states of gore and mud. Uhtred reached you first, looking down at the warriors at your feet. The tip of his sword nudging the one you had slit the throat of.

"He said something to you, what was it?" Uhtred asked, making everyone look at you.

You glanced at Finan and then the dead warrior. Not yet you thought to yourself.

"He thought I was someone else, tried for mercy from a fellow Dane."

You kept your voice level, looking from the Dane at your feet, to Uhtred and then around to Finan. If the latter believed you, then the rest would too. That's how it usually went. But it proved to you that no matter where you went, someone would know you. That the life you now had would be at risk.

You kept your eyes on Finan, who rested a hand on your shoulder.

"And now he is dead. Is that not proof enough of loyalty?" he asked, glancing towards his friends.

You could only hope that it was. Even if it was just the start.

When it had happened, you didn't know. But friendship had turned to something more. It had come out of nowhere, yet you couldn't imagine not feeling it. Yet panic would set in. There was far more to lose now, not just a friend but someone you loved.

You seemed to be free of the trail of suspicion that followed you. Maybe it was as because of Finan, or your relationship, or both. Either way, it seemed to dissipate. Lulling you into a false sense of security.

But it was a letter, delivered to a young boy who had clearly been paid well to. Finding the town Lord Uhtred was in was likely easy and most new who made up his group of warriors by now. It was what was inside the letter that gave you cause for concern.

Finan was downstairs in the inn, drinking with the others. You had escaped under the pretense of a long overdue bath when the boy found you. The rolled parchment pressed into your palm before he scurried away.

Yet you hadn't opened it. Part of you was too afraid to find out what was inside. But you knew the longer you waited, the worse your thoughts would get. With a deep breath, you unrolled it.

Dearest daughter,

I know you may have heard tell of it already, but I would prefer you to know it from me as well.

I regret leaving you behind, but neither of us would be where we are now if we had stayed together.

I have been baptised, I no longer take the name Guthrum. I am a Saxon in everything but the blood in my veins. I have taken the name Aethelstan and have taken the throne as King of East Anglia. That makes you no less my daughter, but you should be able to live a life without the heavy cloud of my name over you.

You remain in my heart, as I hope I do yours.

Father.

You didn't know how to feel. The letter scrunched tight in your hands. You should have felt a weight lifted, just as your father had said. His name should no longer follow you, because it was no longer his name.

Yet you knew it wouldn't work that way. Because names were only half of the story. What your father had done, that is what would follow you.

It would follow you through the Danes - knowing that the once Guthrum had now betrayed his blood for the sake of God. It would follow you through the Saxons - you knew he would speak of you to those he trusted. He had always been so proud of you.

It would never leave you, and unlike your father you were not naive enough to believe it would. It was not a question of if but when.

You had plans to stay in Winchester for the next few weeks, according to Uhtred. He had business with Alfred and there was no telling how long it would take or what tasks would be put upon him, as they usually were. All you and the others had to do was wait.

Yet another inn, another room to share with Finan. Your relationship was never secret, but you were simply careful. Not allowing it to affect the way you lived the rest of your lives.

The letter remained permanently tucked into a small pouch on your belt. There was no chance you could ever let it out of your sight. No hands other than your own were the right hands for it to fall into.

You set down your things, removing layer after layer of your armour until the clothes beneath remained. Your belt securely wrapped around your waist. Finan entered the room only seconds later.

"The boys have some ale downstairs, if you were interested?" he smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

Alone, your relationship was soft, gentle. A purposeful opposite to the brutality you both went through on almost daily basis - or so it felt. It was what you needed, what you both needed.

"Or…we can stay up here?" you countered, earning a chuckle from your lover, which was all the answer you needed.

But the kiss to your neck and the way you feet left the ground before you back hit the bed were a better answer.

Finan looked back at you as you slept. He hadn't the heart to wake you, but he couldn't sleep himself. He moved around the room, collecting the clothes strewn across the floor and placing them over a nearby chest. It was a simple act of domesticity that made him forget the world you both lived in.

But as he lifted your belt, he saw it. A tattered corner of paper sticking out of the pouch you always carried. Something screamed at him to ignore it. But then he saw a small snippet of the writing.

Father.

It was like someone had poured cold water over him. You had told him your family was dead. Everyone believed your family was dead. You had reminded all of the suspicious minds that you no longer fought beside the Danes. For all intents and purposes, you were not one.

Yet this…this changed everything. Because if there was one lie, what else was there? Finan knew he should ask you, yet how would he even ask such a question.

He placed your belt with the rest of your things. He wasn't going to pretend the letter wasn't there, that he hadn't seen that word. But he also wasn't going to focus on it. He trusted you, until now you had given him no reason not to. There had to be an explanation and he had every intention of allowing you to give it to him.

When he was ready for it, that is.

The group had been away from Winchester for just over a week when a quick return was necessary. Uhtred was brought immediately to Alfred's side, the sight of Haesten in the hall was a surprise to everyone including him.

When the Lord returned to you all, the news was as bad as you all expected it to be. Haesten had brought word of a new warlord, Bloodhair. Despite the trust that they all seemed to have in you now, every eye in the group turned to you.

"If you are all about to ask if I know him, I do not," you answered, though their looks seemed to linger.

You didn't notice how Finan's seemed to linger just that little bit longer, and not the way they usually did. Like he was looking for something, and he hated that he was even thinking you might be lying.

He'd told no one about the letter. He had tried his best not to think of it. If it was important, he still remained hopeful that you would tell him. That you trusted and cared enough for him to do so.

"But there will always be new lords, new Danes thinking they have the strength and swords to take even a sliver of England."

You always seemed to be the default to ask about anything to do with the Danes, and while it didn't always frustrate you, something about it did now. You looked at each one of them.

Uhtred just stared at you, as he often did. Osferth's gaze was as soft as usual, he had been the next to trust you after Finan. Sihtric was hard to read, he had been one of the most cautious of you - which you understood - you may both be Danes but you imagined his life had not been like yours had.

Then there was Finan. His stare was different from everyone else's. Though it usually was, a myriad of emotions always seemed to flow through him when he looked at you. But for a brief second you saw it. At first, you thought it was a trick, that you were too paranoid about what the others thought of you.

He looked unsure. Just a flicker, but it was there. You had to know what had made him doubt you, even for a second.

You were not so lucky the second time Haesten came to Winchester, accompanied by a Dane you did not recognise. You weren't as far away this time, and his arrival had you on edge. Of all the Danes you had met since joining Uhtred, Haesten was the one with the most chance of revealing your secret.

He had the most chance of knowing your father, of knowing you. And from what you had heard, he wasn't the best at controlling his mouth. If there was something he could use to needle at his enemies, which it was known he saw Uhtred as, he would use it without hesitation.

So when not just Uhtred, but all of you were called to the palace, you were on edge. Finan walked at your side and he could feel it.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, tangling your fingers with his own.

His doubts did not change how he felt about you. Love needed more than one crack to completely shatter. But something was clearly wrong. You let out a sigh, squeezing his hand as the palace came further into view.

"I…I only kill Danes now," you said softly, as though that was supposed to be an answer.

Finan slowed you both down, letting the others walk ahead. He stopped completely, holding both of your hands in his. He wanted to believe you were just nervous about being around a Dane, especially one like Haesten. But something else grew in the pit of his stomach. What if you were worried because it was Haesten?

"The others still doubt me…I just…" your words trailed away.

Finan squeezed your hands, leaning in and kissing your forehead. His doubts needed to be proven. You were the one he loved, he had to believe there was a good reason for you to lie to him, to the others.

"Do not worry, you have proven yourself more than necessary."

Finan held on to you as you entered the hall. The others had just entered themselves and Finan let you untangle your hands as the doors closed behind you. Alfred gestured for everyone to sit, and you took the chair directly beside Finan.

Your eyes remained trained on the table, knowing that a single glance to Haesten was a risk in itself. Yet it seemed he was doing everything to try and draw your attention, when his own was not focused on the news about Bloodhair.

His eyes narrowed when he did look at you, like he was focusing on something. You knew you bore similarities to your father. Similarities only those who knew him would see. That was what he was looking for. The fact you were a Dane, at face value, was obvious when anyone met you.

Finan's attention was soon drawn to the elder Dane. The way Haesten looked at you set the hairs on his neck on edge. But that wasn't the worst part. It was the smile. Like he knew something no one else did.

What Finan didn't know, was that Haesten knew the truth. A truth he was choosing to hold on to, for when it would hurt the most.

You could see him, Haesten, sat on his horse and observing the battle like it was nothing more than a show. Blood stained the ground, your hair, clothes. It dripped from your blade. Killing Danes made you feel little. They were your enemies now as the Saxons had once been.

Enemies that piled up in front of you. Yet the Saxon bodies were piling up too. Finan's back was pressed to yours, both of you already feeling the weight of exhaustion in your bones.

And then you heard it. The last words you ever wanted to hear.

"She fights like her father, does she not?"

Haesten's voice was above you, his axe swinging down between you and Finan. Somehow his voice carried over the sounds of battle. It was like everything slowed, you could feel the eyes of your companions on you, even as enemies continued to crowd them.

"You should be fighting with us, girl, not slaying your kin!"

You swung your sword at him, but you were fuelled by anger, by fear. Your aim was off, as Haesten simply stepped out of your way.

"Stop it!" you screamed back, but your answer did nothing, except make him laugh.

Haesten swung his axe at you, sending you backwards to avoid it and crashing into Finan. You found your lover's eyes and you saw it. Clearer this time. Doubt.

"My father is dead!" you made to charge at Haesten again, but Uhtred found him first.

The battle behind them raged on, though the Danes were losing. Haesten didn't seem to care, however. He had a means to get to Uhtred, through you, and he was going to use it.

"Dead? Oh, you silly girl, your father lives. But you knew that…didn't you?" Haesten laughed, backing away and forcing all of you to follow.

Whatever Danes were left had retreated. Haesten's second command and their seer included. But Haesten was focused only on causing as much chaos as he could. Uhtred turned to look at you, the truth seemingly more important than anything else right now. But your eyes found Finan.

The pain on his face is what broke you. He knew.

Haesten used that distraction to his advantage. He was on his horse and gone before he could be stopped. You were frozen to the spot. Uhtred simply stared at you, before storming away. You looked back to Finan, but he couldn't even look at you.

"Finan…"

They didn't stop you from following the back to the camp. But no one spoke to you. No one even looked at you. Uhtred demanded everyone except you and the other three leave. Your heart pounded in your chest. Everything you had feared. All that was good was crumbling around you.

"My lord…" you began but Uhtred simply held up a hand.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. If you had just been brave enough from the start. Brave enough to tell the truth. You had worked so hard to prove yourself loyal, how much more work could proving you were not as your father was have been.

"Who was your father?" Uhtred demanded.

You had seen his anger often enough, it didn't scare you even when directed at you. But when you dared to look at Finan, that left you terrified. He looked broken. Like he was looking at a stranger. Like you had taken his heart and trampled on it.

"Guthrum. Now Aethelstan of East Anglia."

The silence that fell was worse than anything they could have screamed at you. Uhtred glared at you once before leaving, like he couldn't even stomach looking at you anymore. Osferth and Sihtric were next, neither looking back as they walked away.

You took a step towards Finan, then another. Until you could wrap a hand around his arm. Silently begging him not to leave.

"I am sorry, I should not have lied," you whispered, moving your hand down to hold his hand in yours.

Only then did he pull away.

"I saw the letter. Not all of it, but enough," his voice held every ounce of his pain, it revealed every tear he was fighting to hold back.

But you were insistent, your hand cupped his cheek. For a second, you thought he might not push you away. For a second, he leaned into your touch. And then nothing, as he held you at arms length.

"You lied, even if just about one thing, but it wasn't a small thing…"

You tried to step forward again, but Finan held his hands up. The tears fell freely for both of you now.

What hurt him the worst, was that he still loved you. The pain in his chest was enough for him to know that. But it was because he loved you that he had to do what pained him the most.

"Go." Finan stated simply, that one word like poison on his tongue.

The words seemed to stick in your throat. You wanted to argue with him, to demand forgiveness. You wanted him to scream at you. But the resignation, the pain. It was like blades stabbing you over and over again.

"I will send someone to watch your back, but you need to go."

He wasn't doing this for himself, he was doing it for you. The others wouldn't forgive you, not immediately. And he couldn't watch you go through that pain. It was somehow easier for him to let you go. Your eyes squeezed closed as tears burned down your cheeks.

You thought you were imagining it as calloused hands cupped your cheeks, as the rough hair of his beard grazed your skin as he kissed your forehead. A goodbye. You didn't hear the crunch of his boots as he walked away, your eyes opening a moment too late.

He was gone. And your heart went with him.

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