Fates Entwined

The window was open just enough to let in the cool night air. I had not stopped pacing my chamber from the moment the message had arrived. I was on the cusp of womanhood, only months from my 15th name-day, and my life was about to change and, to my mind, not for the better. Tomorrow morning, my new betrothed would arrive to offer his gifts and pledge himself to me but instead of joy and excitement, I could only feel a sense of loss and resentment. My sister had married the man that I had loved since childhood and, even as I paced, lay in the childbed awaiting the birth of their first child. With the arrival of the future Jarl of Kilbruin, all my hopes of seeing Ulfric without my sister at his side would disappear. I would be expected to spend every waking moment with him for as long as he stayed at Highmourne, leaving precious little time to see Ulfric alone when he visited my father. I had not spoken to him since the eve of his betrothal to Helga, and we had not parted on good terms. I had been angry, childish, and selfish, resulting in Ulfric leaving me alone and cold on the jetty without a single word of goodbye. I had even feigned serious illness to avoid attending the wedding for fear of what I might do, much to my mother’s dismay. I had learnt in that time however that I can be quite the convincing actress when the need arises. But how to act truly happy was still beyond my skill set, and the sense of dread at meeting Sven Irnhyde only grew with each passing hour.

Hoofbeats on the cobbled square below my window caught my attention and a messenger sprang from the horse before it had even drawn to a halt, leaving the confused stable boys scurrying to calm the poor beast. My heart clenched tight and my stomach churned, for a messenger at this hour of the night surely meant that the child had been born. I stood still for the first time in hours, listening carefully for the sounds of my mother and father so I could gauge the news before it came to me. A great feminine howl of grief and much sobbing rose from the rooms below mine, meaning only one thing, the child had indeed been a boy as Helga had confidently rubbed in my face, but the birth had not gone well for the baby. Regardless of how unladylike it was, I lay on the straw-covered floor and pressed my ear to the floor.

Below, I could hear Father ordering servants to make the carriage ready for my mother and her handmaidens trying desperately to console her at the loss of her first grandchild. It would only take Mother a matter of hours by carriage to arrive at the hall where Helga went into confinement, I just hoped no-one expected me to accompany her. It was unbearable enough for me to deal with Helga whilst she was happy, constantly rambling on about her handsome husband and the vast farming lands which should have been mine, but to cope with her in her grief would be far too much for me to handle. Footsteps pounded up the stairwell, making me jump to my feet and brush the straw from my chemise. I barely made it back to the window when the door burst open to admit my brother Harold.

‘Helga had the baby, a stillborn boy,’ he stated bluntly, truthfully understanding my dislike for any conversation that involved our sister or her marriage. I nodded and cast him a questioning glance which he understood all too well, ‘Mother will travel alone to her, you are to stay and await Sven’s arrival with Father.’

My sigh of relief was tinged with fear and the sound wasn’t lost on Thomas and he strode across the room, wrapping his arms around me, ‘Don’t worry, little kitten. If Sven doesn’t prove himself to be even half the man Ulfric turned into, I’ll cut him down to size on your behalf.’

It made me laugh, Harold was nearly 19 now but he had retained his childish demeanour under the strict and foreboding layers of authority he had gained. He was a far cry from the podgy spoilt boy he had once been but he still had the same softness to his eyes as the boy who had always protected me. Looking pleased with himself that all was now well with me, Harold kissed my forehead and left me in peace, allowing my thoughts to flutter out of the open window once more. My eyes travelled over the horizon, wondering what this Sven would even look like. Maybe, once he arrived, I could learn to let go of the past and love him instead. The small glimmer of hope comforted me enough that I finally decided to go to bed, pulling the coverlet tight around my shoulders, letting the darkness and sleep wrap itself around me.

Glorious sunlight burst through my window as one of the serving girls threw open the curtain and the sounds of men and horses assaulted my ears. For a moment, I lay in my bed completely clueless as to the reason for so much commotion, until the fog of sleep lifted and my memory returned to me, reminding me that Sven Irnhyde would have arrived in the early hours. I bolted out of bed and scurried to get ready before anyone realised I had overslept, sending the poor maid into a panic of activity as she helped me into my finest dress as I fixed my runaway hair into a tight bun. It had been a gift from Harold, an early name-day present and in some respect a farewell token. Made from the finest wools from the lowlands, the fabric had been dyed a vivid blue in imitation of the sea itself. Soft wolf furs of grey and white lined the neck and sleeves whilst the hem was embroidered with heavy silvered thread in motifs of longboats and mermaids. Satisfied that I was presentable, I hurried downstairs to the great hall, receiving amused looks from my father and brother as I slid to a halt on the dais. I was just in time, for no sooner had I composed myself from my race down the stairs than the giant oak doors opened wide to admit my betrothed and his retinue. By assumption, I singled Sven out from the approaching crowd by his fine clothes and jewelled sword hilt. I could not find fault in his appearance, he was obviously very wealthy, and his face held the same rugged charm as Ulfric's had, the fragment of hope which I clung grew a little more as I regarded my future husband. His sea-blue eyes met mine as he reached the dais and it sent a shiver through my core, not even Ulfric had ever caused such a reaction in me by merely looking at me, and blood rushed to my face. I broke the eye contact, nervously looking to the floor, hoping he wouldn’t judge me as a stupid girl for my bashfulness.

‘My Lord, I am Sven Irnhyde, first of my name and the future Jarl of Kilbruin. I have come to pledge myself to your beautiful daughter, Ysmira, with your blessing. I bring my uncle, Jarl Yoric, who can speak on my father's behalf in his absense’ he bowed low as he spoke, his voice like silk, casting a gesture back to a broad and stoic looking man in the group behind him. I watched him through my lashes and, though he was addressing my father, his eyes never left me, and his soft smile never faltered. Father nodded his approval and gestured for Sven to approach me. I blushed all the harder as he came and knelt before me, his sword laid flat across the palms of his hands, ‘My lady, I will grant you the world and all its treasures if you would agree to be my wife. To you I will entrust my household and my future, if you will have me.’

His noble manner and loving gaze left me smitten and, without any hesitation, I agreed. Sven returned his sword to its scabbard and turned back to accept a small box from one of his men. It was beautifully carved with scenes of swans and I gasped as he presented it to me and opened it. Inside was a silver ring fashioned to a central point into the shape of leaves and in the small silver branches was a bright emerald, so small and delicate that it seemed impossible to me that any man could have carved it. Stunned by the beauty of the gift, I could not find the words to thank Sven and, delighting in my reaction, he laughed and removed the ring from its case to place it on my ring finger. All I could think was how Ulfric could never have afforded to lavish such gifts on me had I been his wife, how I would have had to content myself to a mediocre life as the lady of a lesser estate. Instead, all my previous misgivings about my upcoming marriage and all my pining thoughts of Ulfric had flown away on the summer breeze that danced through the hall. Sven smiled broadly and gently took my hand, raising it above our heads to the great applause of my father’s household and Sven's entourage.

‘I will always honour you, my lady, for as long as our days last,’ he whispered to me as he returned my hand. I could tell by his tone that these were not the hollow promises of a boy forced to marry, but the sincere thoughts of a man who had fallen in love with his bride. I smiled and squeezed his hand tight before our grip of each other broke entirely, pulling forth yet more happiness from him. Father clapped his hands, calling forward the waiting servants who began the arduous task of setting out the tables in preparation for a feast.

‘Only one last thing before our guests arrive,’ Father announced, waving a hand to the steward by the main doors. The steward disappeared, returning a few moments later with a gaggle of women in tow. Only one man came with them, a lord from the northern borderlands, 'Harold, it is time you were also wed, your mother and I are not getting any younger.’

‘May I present Jarl Harrin of Lundensflyt, along with his daughter, the Lady Elsinor,’ proclaimed the steward.

The northern lord stepped forward and bowed to my father and, from amid the swirl of colourful dresses, a slender woman in sky-blue silks followed. She was beautiful, with glowing golden hair and shocking blue eyes. I glanced at Harold and nearly fell apart with laughter. He scrambled from his seat and nearly tripped on his own feet, dumbstruck by his betrothed. At least I had managed some decorum in the face of the long fall into love, Harold was displaying no grace whatsoever as his heart fell into that deep hole. Sven chuckled, and looked at me as though he was thinking the exact same as we all watched Harold make a fool of himself. Speeches ensued, declarations were made, and it came Harold's turn to make his pledge to Lady Elsinor. I could have died for him, my older brother turned into a stumbling babe by her beauty. She was not perturbed by his idiocy, in fact she seemed quite adoring of him, but then his folly did have a certain becoming charm to it. She accepted his pledge and climbed the dais to stand by his side, as Sven now stood by mine. More cheering and clapping broke out across the growing audience and no-one noticed the servants deftly turning the hall into a lavish banqueting place. By the time everyone was done swapping niceties and news, the great hall had been transformed with huge garlands of summer flowers and strewn with fresh straw mixed with scented herbs.

Father beckoned us all to be seated at the family table whilst the other guests arrived. Harold threw me a questioning look to which I could only shrug in response. Mother and Father must’ve been planning this day for a very long time as not a single detail had been overlooked. In short order, guests from across the Highmourne lands and further afield began to stream into the hall, each new arrival approaching the dais to offer their congratulations to Father and the two new couples. The room filled swiftly, and servants began running amongst the crowd serving drinks and sweetmeats as the final guests arrived. I scanned the crowd, smiling pleasantly at the happy faces of those who came to congratulate me, but one face stopped my heart and I reached to grab Sven's hand. There, hooded and hidden in the darkened corner of the hall, was Ulfric. His eyes locked onto mine with such malice that an unintended shiver went through me, causing Sven to follow my line of sight and realise the cause of my sudden discomfort.

‘Who is he?’ he whispered, voice soft and calming while his eyes hardened with hate towards Ulfric. My heart swelled to see my future husband so defensive of me already and it gave me the courage to find my voice once more.

'Ulfric, my sister’s husband. I will not lie to you, we were in love with each other once, but our friendship ended bitterly when he was betrothed to Helga… We have never spoken to each other since,’ Sven nodded, giving my hand a gentle squeeze and subtly moving his chair a little closer to mine. The motion was not missed by Ulfric, whose face darkened even further as he glared at me across the room. By now, Sven's face had turned stony and cold as he regarded this new rival and Ulfric seemed quite oblivious to the growing threat. The silent exchange had not gone amiss with Harold either, who suddenly bolted up from his seat and demanded to know why Ulfric was here and not at home tending his grieving wife. The room fell silent and all eyes turned to Ulfric seeking a satisfactory answer. A cruel smirk danced on Sven lips, mirroring the one pulling at my own.

Whatever Ulfric's intentions had been by coming to the feast were now unimportant, crushed under the weight of a hundred expectant eyes. Ulfric blanched, shuffling nervously as he has always been prone to do when caught in a tight spot. Harold bellowed his demand again, this time echoed by our father. It was clear to everyone that Father was furious with Ulfric and, as the minutes slipped by without a response, his hand slowly crept to the hilt of his sword. The need to soothe the situation gripped me and I left my seat to address the hall.

‘My dear Lord Ulfric, a pleasure to see you here but do you not know that you are needed at home. News arrived in the night of Helga's loss, I assume you have not yet heard,’ the crowd below me began to murmur and Ulfric's face softened with relief, ‘Of course you haven’t, you would never have come here this evening if you had. Quickly, my lord, return to your wife and console her.’

It was as though I had closed the door on the threatening tide of anger within him, for he bowed low and graciously thanked me for informing him before turning to leave immediately. Amiable chatter refilled the hall and I turned to find everyone at the family table looking at me in admiration. Father leant across the table and patted my hand, and Harold gave me one of his stupid grins that could melt a glacier. I smiled a little, proud of myself for how well I had handled the event in my mother’s stead. Although the gratitude of those around me warmed my heart, Ulfric's very presence had driven a dagger of ice deep into my core. For him to abandon my sister in her grief and come to Highmourne with the intent of ruining plans Father had worked hard to form.

The Ulfric who had arrived here tonight was not the Ulfric I had loved, he had become a bitter and twisted shell of the young man I had known. I sighed and wished the thoughts from my head, resolving to enjoy the remainder of the evening. Sven chuckled, too amused to notice the brief passing of my emotions, giving my elbow a nudge as I sat down, ‘No wonder he was smitten with you, you’re going to make an amazing wife.’

His words pulled at the cold hate which Ulfric had placed in my chest, but I would never let Sven see that. Though he had only been here a few hours, he had already shown he would be more than willing to fight anyone who hurt me. No, I would let him be happy and give him no cause to seek revenge on Ulfric. I smiled warmly and placed my hand over his on the table, summoning a beaming grin to his face. I could not ruin him by letting my new-found hatred infect him. I leant over and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, ‘I’m pleased you think so, I hope I live up to your expectations.’

The night rambled on with barely a backwards thought towards Ufric's appearance in the hall, Harold continued making a sweet fool of himself for his bride and Father carried on his negotiations with the two new fathers-in-law's. Sven however had been oddly quiet after his praise of my abilities handling bad situations. I shuffled in my chair so that I had a better view of his face, frowning at the soft furrows etching their way across his forehead. I placed a hand on his arm, breaking his train of thought and forcing him to return to the present moment. He gave me a gentle smile, almost thanks for snatching him back from a dark path. He must have seen the question in my eyes as he shook his head faintly and muttered that he would talk about it later. I squeezed his arm and returned to nursing my flagon, the wine within already warm and turning bitter. I understood his quiet pondering; the same depressing cloud was inching into my own mind. If Ulfric could dare to show up here, now, with the intent of causing trouble for Sven and myself, what else was the once-upon-a-time sweetheart capable of. What new havoc would he attempt to bring to my door in the future? I lost myself in these thoughts, mulling over each possible scenario, every event concocted by my imagination worse than the last, until Sven nudged my elbow and nodded his head to my Father. I followed his direction and looked along the table to where Father now stood, pulled to his full height and thanking everyone for their attendance with his arms spread to encompass everyone in the hall. People began to approach my father, offering thanks for a wonderful evening and wish him all the best for the upcoming weddings, before gathering their belongings and heading home. Servants began their arduous task of cleaning away the mountains of goblets and platters and returning the hall to a presentable state. Sven remained withdrawn, cordially responding to the congratulations offered by the guests but saying little else to anyone. I slipped my hand under the table and grasped his, rewarded for my attention with a small smile and a gentle squeeze of my hand.

'Might we take a walk, Father?' I asked, watching as the last hanger-on slid from the warm hall into the night. Father nodded and gestured for one of our house guard to join us. Beorm tightened his cloak around himself and gave Sven and I a soft look. It wasn't the first time he had been called upon to act as chaperone to a love-struck couple, his sister Myredith had 14 children whom he had kept his eyes on whenever one had gone courting. I thanked Beorm for his care and wrapped myself in the fur lined cloak which a maid had waiting for me. Sven offered his arm to me and I happily linked my hand around his elbow, allowing myself to be escorted from the hall. We walked down to the jetty in companionable silence and, once he was certain nobody would overhear our conversation, he unhooked his arm from mine and faced me. His fine features were solemn and worry etched deep grooves into his face.

'I will completely understand if what I'm about to say changes everything,' he began cautiously, grasping both my hands as though he feared I would push him off the jetty and run away, 'I have a history with Ulfric... Last winter, he came to my father's hall seeking help with a matter he would speak to no-one else about. We didn’t know who he was until tonight, Father heard the stranger out and before it could be discussed further, my sister walked in on them... It's been haunting me since that we could not find the man who had killed her and ran. Your Jarl Ulfric murdered my younger sister simply for walking into a room and fled like a common thug.'

My head was reeling, the Ulfric I knew could be quick-tempered but surely Sven had to be mistaken. I began to shake my head in denial that Ulfric could be so cold-hearted but the cast-iron look of recognition and hate burning in Sven's eyes killed all my doubts in a heartbeat. Ulfric was a murderer, the man I had once loved with every fibre of my body had turned into a monster. A myriad of horrid thoughts rushed to the forefront of my mind. This cruel man was married to my sister, had left her in her darkest hours, had turned up to cause mayhem at my betrothal feast. What if his intentions for being there tonight had been far darker, I felt the blood drain from my face as the realisation sank in. Ulfric had come to hurt me, possibly even kill me, for willingly accepting Sven as my husband. The world dimmed and I felt Sven's arms slip around me to halt my fall. Beorm rushed forward, seeing me faint, and immediately called to another of the house guards to alert my parents.

'I'm so sorry my beloved,' Sven whispered as he lowered me to a sitting position and knelt beside me, supporting me by my elbows as everything swam in and out of focus before my eyes, 'I will understand if you would rather stay away from my troubles with Ulfric...'

I shook my head and offered a weak smile, 'No, Sven, it changes nothing of how I feel. All it changes is that I need to watch my back around Jarl Ulfric.' Sven pulled me to his chest, thankful that his revelation had not cost him his bride.

'I will watch your back, my love, I'll see him dead long before he harms you or anyone else.'