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Author's Chapter Notes:
I got seven reviews, so far, and broke the 200 barrier:)
here's the next chapter, its a bit shorter though. enjoy
The man stood up as soon as they walked in and hurried across to Buffy swinging her up in his arms and kissing her soundly on the cheek. William growled quietly. He hated the sight of another man’s hands on his lady, but she was giggling like a child.

‘Eirik, what are you doing here? How is everyone? What made you start out so early, what are you doing here?’

‘And there she is, the babbling Buffy,’ laughed Willow.

Eirik laughed as well. ‘You repeated that last one twice Buffy, now if you’ll let me I will sit back down and finish this horn. Then I will answer every question you have.’

Buffy laughed and nodded, slipping off her cloak and handing it to Anya. The men from the ship had taken their places on benches around the hall.

‘We’re putting up the tent within the pale,’ Eirik said. ‘Connor agreed, that way we won’t put your hall out too much.’

‘As if you could.’

William looked around for Tara. She was sitting very quietly in the shadows at the back of the hall. She remembered what had happened last time they met this man, and she was scared, the terror showing on her face.

William made his way across to her and sat by her side. He took her hand and pulled her into the shelter of his arms quietly. ‘Connor and Buffy have always treated us fairly; you’ll be fine, we’ll be fine. Could you imagine Connor or Buffy letting anything happen to us? To you? Connor likes you, Willow would protect you to the ends of the earth. I hear you at night Tara, as you hear me. The ones with whom we share our nights love us and will not hurt us, so we have to trust them.’

Tara nodded and relaxed into his arms a little.

Connor noted the exchange in the corner, but his concentration was on his guest. He hadn’t had a chance to talk with Willow yet, Eirik had arrived in the early afternoon and it had taken time to get the crew settled. Anya and Willow, with Xander’s help, had prepared a feast as soon as they’d seen the ship approaching, so Buffy wouldn’t be disgraced.

The tables were set up and the men took their places, having been summoned by horn. Tara and William felt in the way for the first time since they had arrived. All the hall were running around getting things sorted and they had no job and no place. Tara went to sit at the table, but Buffy who had been hurrying by, pulled at her arm and shook her head.
‘We’ll sit down once we’ve got them all fed,’ she nodded her head in the direction of the forty or so men that had entered the hall. ‘William, if you’ll sit a little lower than usual, here, she indicated a seat about four down from his normal place, ‘and do you feel like doing Beowulf again?’

William nodded and took the bench that had been indicated. Tara was handed two jugs of ale and Anya was loaded with bread on a platter. The men fell onto the food like they were starving. Stew, meat and fish vanished in short order, followed by nut balls in honey and dried fruits. A huge clootie dumpling was added to the groaning tables, as was a huge hard cheese. William ate sparingly, watching Buffy as she played hostess in her son’s hall, ensuring her women served all the men, she herself serving the head table and, most pointedly, William.

It was quite a while before the last of the men were fed their fill and had relaxed back on the benches. Buffy, Tara and the other women had saved themselves good platefuls of the food and sat together chatting whilst the men talked of business. For William it felt like he was back in his father’s hall, listening to agreements being made by the older men. The only difference was that here, when he added anything, it was listened to.

After all had eaten and the tables cleared Eirik signalled one of his men, who came forward with a chest. It was opened to show about fourteen pounds of silver.

‘The rest of the money for the woman we bought,’ Eirik said, ‘it concludes our business about her.’

‘It does.’

‘We had a reply from the Wessex court about your hostages,’ Eirik added, ‘I don’t think you are going to like it.’

‘Continue…’

‘Do you want them to wait outside?’

‘No, if it’s about them they should hear it.’

Eirik drew out a vellum scroll and handed it to Connor, who handed it over to William.
William opened it and started to read as Eirik continued:

‘They will pay the ransom for him, but not her. Her father offered me silver to see her throat cut,’ he added quietly.
‘No, no, no,’ Tara whispered; she couldn’t believe her father could be so cruel. To refuse to pay even her dowry as ransom was horrible, and traitorous. Most of that money had come through her mother, it was rightfully hers, he had no right to... only he did have the right, he was her father… her lord and master.

William was trying to process the news. He would have to leave, and soon. They had promised the ransom money and Connor’s honour meant that he would keep his word. His idyll, his glimpse of heaven was over: time to go home.

Connor and Eirik were discussing details. Connor would head for somewhere called Wirhal where someone named Ingimund ruled. He had dealings with the Mercian court, not friendly ones true, but dealings none the same and William would be transferred over there. There was an old town, long abandoned with great walls that Athelflaed was refortifying. The Wessex contingent would have the money waiting. William would be leaving in just a few days: he didn’t have months, or even weeks with Buffy, he had just a few days.

They didn’t have any poetry or songs that night: instead Connor and Eirik sat up talking. Tara crept into bed quietly beside Willow. ‘What am I going to do?’ she cried, her muffled sobs breaking the healer’s heart.

‘You are going to stay here with me, and I am going to care for you.’ The redhead pulled Tara into her arms and started kissing her, gently at first, but it soon became more passionate.

‘He didn’t want me,’ she cried.

‘Well I do and so does Connor… how would you feel about being the second wife?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, Connor is planning on asking me to become his wife, silly boy doesn’t think I know, but I do. So how about we suggest that you and I share him?’

‘Second wife? What would that mean? I would be a concubine or whore?’

‘No, nothing like that: only the first wife carries the keys. Buffy is lady of the hall at the moment and she wants to go back to her own hall. I would be first wife, people would expect that, but they would think that he marries me from duty and you from love. But Connor is away from home seven months a year, leaving him here for six. There is enough room in that shut-bed for all three of us… well?’

‘It’s hard, but I would be a wife, not a mistress?’

‘You would be a wife, his wife and in many ways mine as well. I need to be able to carry on with my studies, to become a full nana. You would be responsible for the hall and we could split the other duties between us.’

‘Even the bedroom ones? If I were married I would want children.’

‘I think we could work something out,’ Willow said grinning and leant into her lover, kissing her with long, deep eager kisses.

William thought about the recent developments as he felt the bed dip as Buffy climbed in beside him. ‘Are you still awake?’ she whispered.

‘Uh-huh, was just thinking about what Eirik said.’

‘What about, William?’

‘About leaving: you know I’ve got to go home though, don’t you.’

‘I knew from the talk this afternoon,’ Buffy required quietly. ‘I don’t want you to go but I really do understand.’

‘It would be torture for me, Buffy. I want to stay so much, but to live off another’s charity… but the offer Connor made, do you think he would make a place for Tara?’

‘I don’t think that would be a problem. I think in fact that could be easily arranged. He’s had eyes for Tara since she arrived and I think we should talk to him, but tomorrow. If I’ve only got you for a few more days William, Lord of Wessex, I intend to make the most of it.’ She lifted her leg over his and pulled him into a searing kiss.

The next morning, when Willow prepared the herbs that prevented conception, Buffy refused them. ‘We’ll let Freya decide,’ she said. Willow nodded and smiled as she took the cup away.





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