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by the amazing Ariadne


Author's Chapter Notes:
My thanks to those who reviewed last time....my muse is starting to play nicely again
The noise from the horns could be heard reverberating around the gaily-painted walls of the church as the Northmen escorted the bride through the newly built market. They were coming closer and closer, but William couldn’t hear them.

Scenes from the Bible glowed in the afternoon sun as it flooded through the small high windows and set the colours around him on fire. Not that William could see them. His hands were shaking and his throat felt dry and scratchy. He cared little for the new paint on the walls and clean rushes on the floor. All he knew was that within this day Buffy would be his. Legally under Saxon law he would own her, and no-one and nothing could take her away again. He felt his stomach rolling and feared he would be sick; he had been so grateful that he wasn’t supposed to eat, because if he had any food in his stomach it would be making a speedy and unwelcome return.

He looked up at the priest in front of him and felt Godwin beside him. He was not alone. Athelred stood ready to answer the priest’s questions and Ingimund would be bringing Buffy with him.

The horns sounded louder, closer and there was a disturbance at the church door. The ushers were removing the weapons from the Northmen as they entered the building. Sword and scramseax alike were stacked in the porch to one side; the Saxon’s weapons were already occupying the other side. William wanted to turn round, to see if it really was his bride but he had to face the front and wait. He could see others in the church, including the lady Anne, look towards the back of the church as there was a second disturbance.

Godwin, who had been watching the excitement, turned back to William with a smile.

‘Seems they remembered to disarm the men at the door, but someone has just remembered your future wife’s habit of carrying a knife and has stopped the ladies. Faith and Helga are passing over a rather nice collection as we wait,’ he explained to the shaking man.

Even Father Gregory’s eyes were twinkling. He was getting very fond of Buffy and it seemed among her own kind she wasn’t unusual. His smile got broader as one of the Bride’s women stopped and reached around her back and under her cloak. She pulled out another knife and handed it over to Eirik with a half grin, as though she had forgotten it was there. Eirik stacked Faith’s knife amongst the others and took his place backing the Bride’s party.

Buffy’s face had been completely covered with a thick veil during her walk through the city, and she was relying on the guiding hand of Ingimund and Connor.

William could resist no longer and turned his head as the sighs from the people around him informed him that she was making her way up the knave and to her place before the altar. The little church was packed, everyone in their best clothes, waiting for this moment.

Connor stopped before the Priest and turned to Buffy. Lifting off the veil, he revealed his stepmother to the waiting crowd for the first time.

‘This is Elizabeth of Trondheim, brought to this place for marriage,’ he announced in a clear voice.

Buffy blinked as the thick veil was removed from her head and face. She looked round quickly, searching for William and smiled. He was there, dressed in a full length Saxon court robe: he looked civilised and impossibly grown up. The man who had climbed a tree to get her the sweetest apple was hidden behind formality and ritual. She looked for some sign in his eyes that this was what he wanted. They hadn’t really had time together to talk and part of her was scared that he was being forced into something he didn’t want. Then she saw the look in his eyes and her fears fled, like mist before the sunrise. He was still her William, still the man whose bed she had crept into. The memories of their nights together raised a blush to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on what was going on around her.

William felt his chest tighten. She looked beautiful. Her hair was caught back in a net that was decorated with precious gems, her dress highly embroidered and looking slightly alien. Green wool over a bright yellow linen underdress, but all he saw was his beloved Buffy, her eyes shining, and that little half smile she wore when she was at her happiest.

She glanced up from under her eyelashes, coyly looking into his eyes. Blue met green and the rest of the world vanished. William and Buffy were lost in their own world: the crowd seemed distant and unimportant. It wasn’t until Father Gregory gave up with the subtle coughs and actually jabbed a finger into William’s shoulder that William remembered where he was.

‘Do you both understand the terms under which you are brought together here, and do you both acquiesce to them?’ The Priest asked in the Saxon tongue. William and Buffy both nodded.

Then the formal part of the service started with the reading of the treaty. The agreement was read in full, in church with Ingimund and Athelred agreeing to each and every clause. It had little to do with two people getting married, and far more to do with two peoples joining together.

Then came their part. Father Gregory looked at the couple before him.

‘With this wedding, this treaty is truly bound in spirit as well as person…’ then he started in Latin…Buffy didn’t understand a word of it. Connor leaned over to her and translated broadly:

‘No sleeping around and get pregnant quickly,’ he said in the norse tongue. Buffy tried hard not to laugh: she could see William’s jaw working as he bit the inside of his lips.

‘Do as your husband tells you, he is your lord and master,’ Connor translated some more. ‘Oh: you will have to answer in a minute.’

William had obviously been listening, because he nodded and said ‘yes,’ very clearly. Father Gregory turned to Buffy and her party.

‘Do you bring this woman here for marriage?’

‘I do,’ Ingimund answered.

‘And do you agree to abide by the terms of the marriage agreement?’

‘I do,’ Ingimund replied again. Buffy prepared herself to speak, but none of the questions were addressed to her. The men spoke some more.

‘He’s allowed to marry you as long as you only have sex for children,’ Connor tried to make Buffy smile. ‘Now he’s asking if there is any reason why you can’t get married, or if there is anyone stupid enough to try and stop it!’

Father Gregory looked pointedly at William who offered the priest a ring. That was blessed and handed back and William placed it over the thumb of Buffy’s right hand.

‘In domine,’ he said quietly, looking into her eyes.

The index finger: ‘et fille,’

The middle finger: ‘et spirituous sanctus…’

‘Amen,’ he said as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It was heavy and gold, with a gem imbedded into the finely worked metal.

Buffy looked around her again. Everyone was cheering and shaking William by the hand. Athelflaed come up and offered her congratulations as well.

‘But I didn’t say anything,’ Buffy said, quietly worried that the wedding wasn’t legal under the Saxon law. She hadn’t given her consent to the marriage as far as she knew. She looked worriedly around and Athelflaed took pity on her.

‘We don’t: we are passed from our father’s property to our husband’s,’ she explained quietly. ‘We get no say in it unless we wish to become a nun.’

‘No say at all?’ Buffy gulped, but then felt William’s hand tighten on hers. She looked up to see such fear in his eyes that her heart felt as though it had skipped a beat. He was frightened that she had been forced, that this wasn’t what she wanted. She sent him a beaming smile, and then a mischievous grin.

‘Well I get lots to say tonight when we do it again for my people,’ she said quietly, so that Gregory couldn’t hear. That bit wasn’t something he was supposed to know about, officially at least.

William visibly relaxed: she hadn’t wanted to back away from him or the marriage. He smiled at Buffy and then turned to escort his bride out of the church and away.



The banquet was lavish. William and Buffy sat at the head of the table, near the fire and were waited on by everyone. Buffy had been showered with gifts including a beautiful wimple from her new mother; Nordlys hadn’t been forgotten either, there was a lovingly crafted doll for her, all dressed in the Saxon style. The child had been delighted and had happily climbed on to her new gran’s lap for a cuddle.

Buffy’s plate had been filled time and time again. Meat, fish and fowl piled high: there were fruits from the Francs as well as imported wines on the table. The bread was soft and white, the flour having been sifted at least twice and it was still warm from the oven.

Buffy and William were feted and toasted all evening. Buffy had drunk too much mead: she was definitely merry. William felt her hand wandering up his thigh and cupping his manhood. He looked at his wife: she was his wife now, and she smiled sweetly at something Athelred was saying to her. She looked so innocent, but she was stroking him to a raging hard on. He was glad that his trouse were well hidden by the floor length tunic because if they weren’t everyone would be able to see how they were tented. Buffy squeezed his thigh hard and brought his attention back to the speeches that were being made. Despite where her hand was placed, she still blushed a little when the rest of the night was mentioned. It was time for the witnesses and the bridal party to withdraw away from the main hall and head towards the bower.

Olaf gave Anne his arm and she looked up into twinkling brown eyes. He winked as he pulled her to her feet and almost forced her to join the group of people heading out of the door. Anne looked around. All the norse were heading out with them, but Father Gregory and Brother Giles were still sitting down. She slowed her pace a little, but Olaf gave a small tug on her arm and carried on walking.

‘Where are we going? I thought they only wanted the witnesses and I don’t intend to see my son’s wedding night!’

Olaf bent down and whispered, ‘you might not want to see the wedding night, Lady Anne, but I think you’ll want to see the rest of the wedding.’
He walked her to the front of the hall and left her beside her son before going across to join Buffy and her party.

Ingimund stood before them all, a wooden table set with food and drink by his side. The cloth on it was one that Buffy had been given as a wedding gift. Anne looked again at the fine embroidery: it was Athelflaed’s own hand that had worked the linen. Anne looked around the hall again: it might have been built in a hurry from prepared panels, but it was as sturdy as any house. The wattle and daub wall had been covered with rich hangings and the women had spent most of the day adding garlands of fresh flowers and greenery to make it as festive as possible. Even though the evening was mild a brazier had been lit with good charcoal and was burning away in one corner of the hall. The bed was covered with flower petals, and had been made up with linen sheets as well as blankets. Buffy’s wealth was on show all around them.

Horns started sounding around the room, bringing both Anne and William out of their revelry. Buffy was entering the hall on Connor’s arm. Anne started to pay more attention.

‘Who enters?’ Ingimund called out.

‘Elizabeth of Trondheim,’ she answered in a clear voice.

‘And who brings her?’

‘Her family do,’ Connor replied.

‘Elizabeth, do you know why you are here?’

‘I am here to be married to William of Wessex.’

‘Is this your wish, and do you come of your own free will?’

Olaf and another warrior stepped forward before Buffy could answer.

‘We offer our protection to Elizabeth if she wishes to leave and ask again: do you truly come of your own free will?’

‘I do so truly come,’ Buffy answered, her face glowing as she moved forward. Ingimud turned to William.

‘Do you come here of your own free will to be married to this woman?’

‘I do so come here of my own free will to be married.’ His voice was shaking. Ingimund took off the silver arm ring he had been wearing all day and held it before William.

‘Do you swear by all that you hold Holy, that you will honour Elizabeth as your wife, love her and keep her safe?’

‘I do so swear,’ William said, grasping the large silver ring. He could feel the strange shapes under his hand and they seemed to writhe and twist under it.

‘Do you Elizabeth swear by the All Father, by Frey and Freya and by Var who hears oaths and punishes the oath breakers, that you will honour and love this man, be a true wife and helpmate to him, support him and care for him?’

‘I truly do.’ Buffy placed her hand by his on the ring and everyone could hear the love in her voice. It rang out across the crowd and warmed every heart that heard it.

Ingimund let go, leaving just Buffy and William holding the silver ring.

‘I pronounce you husband and wife,’ he said.

‘Give your wife a kiss, boy!’ he grinned at William.

William looked at Buffy and smiled; he pulled her into his arms and stared down, losing himself in the emerald pools that were her eyes. He bent forward and then drew back, he couldn’t quite believe she was his; he leant forward again and devoured her lips, plundering her mouth with his tongue.
The sound of the cat-calls and laughter brought them back to their surroundings and Buffy blushed again, hiding her face in William’s shoulder.

‘I don’t think the wedding night should prove problematical to either party!’ laughed Eirik as he shook William’s hand.

Father Gregory could be heard at the back of the hall, as he entered with Brother Giles. The church men smiled at the happy couple and made their way to the bed. Buffy gasped as they started blessing the bed; Lady Anne looked at the expression on her new daughter’s face and hurried to her side.

‘It’s to ensure the union is fruitful and happy, my dear: just smile sweetly and think of William,’ Anne added with a smile. She rearranged her wimple again. Olaf smiled at her, he liked the stamp of William’s mother and he moistened his lips with his tongue. She blushed prettily enough when he did and turned deliberately back to the Priests and their chanting.





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