002. a fair man

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          




WESSEX WAS A BAREN place. At least, that is what Ælgifu told the young princess. Traveling for her cousin's wedding years and years ago, she spoke of it as if it was some wasteland. 
"I remember when I had traveled with the Lady Aelswith for her wedding to Lord Alfred," The blonde woman said as they both sat in her chambers, pushing herself up off the bed that she sat on to pour the two of them wine. "It was cold, all of the trees were dead. I remember complaining to Aelswith that even Merica had color in the winter months." 
The sound of pouring wine was really all that Fionnuala heard. Green eyes transfixed on crimson liquid, watching as it fell into the cup so gracefully.  
"I am sure that Wessex is not as bad as you might remember, Ælgifu," Fionnuala said, gently taking the cup into her hands. 
"Oh, my dove, it is probably much better than I remember." Ælgifu sighed, wistfully, as she sat down, holding the goblet by the stem. "It was when Alfred's father was king. Æthelwulf. An odd man, he was." The goblet was now pushed up to her lips, taking a sip from it. The liquid lightly stained her lips, as if it was intentional. 
Fionnuala did the same. Slowly, at first. She was never one to drink alcohol. The bitter flavor against her throat and tastebuds was the most abundant, almost causing the girl to gag and spit it out. But as the blonde queen watched, Fionnuala willed herself to continue drinking. 
"You might wish to get used to the flavor,"Ælgifu commented. "You might need it to get through your wedding night." She took another sip, and still, Fionnuala found herself fascinated by how she could let it slip down her throat with such ease. 
"Edward has been said to be kind. I do not think he will try to harm me." Fionnuala said, finger gently tracing the rim of the goblet. 
Ælgifu scoffed at that. "Everyone says the royal man is a kind man," Contempt in her voice was evident. Even the youngest of children could recognize that. 
Moon light flowed in from the open tapestries that would cover the windows, hitting Ælgifu's hair. It was a golden blonde, yet with the light it almost looked a platinum silver. Her brows furrowed, green eyes set intently on the bed, but not where Fionnuala was sitting on it. The bed post. Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair, as if she was thinking. 
"He will act as a young man acts," Ælgifu said with a sigh, only then looking to her step daughter. "He has already sired two bastards on a woman. Twins. He claims to love her, as Aelswith has told me in her letters." 
Fionnuala looked down at the covers, her free hand tracing over the embroidery of different things on it. She had known Edward was a young man. A princess could not satiate his desires, that she knew as well. Her meekness must not be misinterpreted for foolishness, no matter how much the court might want to do so. 
"I have not thought that it would be one of love, Ælgifu," Fionnuala stated. "Or perhaps are you telling me this because you would wish me to marry into Mercia instead?" The slight frown on the princess's face turned into a smile.
She had heard of Ælgifu's nephew, the Lord Aethelred of Mercia. The same golden blonde hair, kissed by the sun itself, from what she had heard, the two were more similar than dissimilar.
Ælgifu heartily laughed, having to set her glass down as to not spill her wine. "Oh, by God, no," A hand was placed on her chest to try and stop herself from laughing any more. "He is much to alike to his father, you would be absolutely miserable. Edward doesn't dismiss his bastards yet he would not rub them in your face, Aelswith would not allow that. Aethelred wouldn't have the tact to not. I hear he does it to his wife now."
Fionnuala's brows furrowed, but the smile on her face didn't disappear. 
"Perhaps then he would be nice to look at. I have heard that Aethelflaed is fair, yet her brother does not share the same qualities," Ælgifu said. 
With a laugh, Fionnuala took another sip of the wine. This time, it went down smoother. 
'Perhaps one had to be in a good mood to enjoy wine,' Finn thought, looking at the goblet before her eyes were brought back to her step-mother. 
"Fair? I do not think I would find a man fair," Fionnuala huffed, rolling her eyes. 
Despite her words, Fionnuala couldn't help but let her mind wander. What might her betrothed look like? Would he be as pale as the snow that fell in Fionnuala's mountains, or perhaps tanned, on account of the sunny days that Wessex gets significantly more of. Would he have golden blonde hair, like that of the lions, or the copper toned red of herself and fellow Scotsmen? 
She knew there might be no love, but perhaps she might be able to pretend. 
"Fionnuala," Ælgifu sighed, though less of annoyance but amusement. "I am sorry to tell you, but I do imagine that Edward might be fair. I found your father fair when I had first met him. I'm sure that your mother did too."
Fionnuala said nothing, rolling her eyes as she did. She had heard the story many a-time. Her father was as fair as the sun, and her mother as fair as an autumn's evening. It was said that the fire had kissed her hair, and she had inherited the same hair. Her father was kissed by the sun, golden blonde hair that neither Fionnuala or her sister had gotten. 
Setting the wine down on the night table, Fionnuala laid on her back, looking at the embroidered canopy above her. "I don't think I feel comfortable calling my father fair. Maybe handsome, like Edward will be, but even then it is still odd."
Ælgifu smiled. "Still! Aelswith has boasted about how her son is quite excited to meet you."
Within a split second, Fionnuala had picked up a pillow and threw it at her stepmother. "Ælgifu!" She laughed, falling back onto her back. "You mustn't lie to me, then I might get my hopes up, and you will be to blame when I write home crying."
Pushing herself up out of her seat, Ælgifu  simply laughed. "Good night, Princess."
As the queen left the room, Fionnuala's breathing steadied from the laughing. Now she might actually be able to think. 
If Edward was not as handsome as his mother claimed to be, who would blame Fionnuala for wanting to run away? Though in truth, what caused more of a pit in her stomach was Wessex itself.