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by ariadne


Author's Chapter Notes:
thanks to those kind enough to review.

happy birthday tina, hope you enjoy this one
Buffy woke early after a fitful night’s sleep. She seemed to have spent most of the darkness tossing and turning, terrified that something or someone would take Nordlys away again. She hated losing people, she had lost too many in her life: her mother and father, Leif and William, and now Nordlys.
She couldn’t hear a single person stirring in the hall, the sun was barely rising, but she couldn’t rest for another minute. She pulled her hangerock over her underdress and slipped out of the bed. Nordlys was still held firmly in her father’s arms, their blond curls mingling on the pillow until she couldn’t see where one ended and the other began. Buffy’s heart filled with happy tears at the sight. There had been times when she would have sold her soul for the vision in front of her.

Buffy let the happiness she felt wash over her, cleaning away all the horror of the day before. She made her way quietly to the covered fire and removed the curfew, letting the air get to the hot embers beneath. She started adding small sticks, watching them catch quickly and bring the fire to life. Smiling as she heard the noises of the hall rousing itself around her, Buffy pulled the porridge out of the embers where it had been cooking overnight. She filled three bowls out and added honey to them before taking her break-fast over to where her husband and child were waking up.

When Buffy was busy in the house a length of rope secured around her waist prevented Nordlys from exploring too far, and William had found the small, child-sized hole in the pale that had been her escape route. A hole that was quickly patched up and sealed so she couldn’t have that sort of adventure again. They were taking no more chances with their precious child.

Buffy was exhausted at the end of the day. She had felt that she had been living on her nerves the whole time, and all she needed now was sleep, sleep in her husbands arms with her daughter safe and sound. But before she could crawl into bed there was the night meal to attend to, but Buffy could hardly keep her eyes open.

Helga watched anxiously. Buffy needed to rest, but her duties wouldn’t allow it at all. She watched as Buffy stumbled a couple of times on the rough floor of the hall. The rushes were fresh this month but they wouldn’t save her if she fell. Helga had had enough: she knew that Buffy should rest, but the woman would push herself until she collapsed.

‘Enough child, you are worn to a frazzle: now go to bed and I will serve the evening meal. You sleep, I think you need that more than food.’ She signalled to Sara to make her mistress a warm drink of milk and laced it with their precious honey.

‘Drink up and sleep soundly; you’ll see things clearer in the morning.’

Buffy sleepily did as she was told. It was like having a mother around again: Helga pulled back the blankets and snuggled them round Buffy’s neck, kissing her gently on the cheek before blowing out the candle that lit the bed space, leaving Buffy to sleep while she took care of the hall.

The night meal was a quiet affair, most of the people in there respecting the fact that Buffy was sleeping. Andrew was almost unaware of the atmosphere, he was just revelling in the fact that he was sitting nearer the fire and enjoying a full dish of the good food; not that he’d been hungry before, but now he got meat in his bowl. He chattered away to those near him, and although he’d been asked to talk quietly, he’d never been happier.

Col sat glowering in the corner, his quick eyes missing nothing that happened. He hated how the dummy was being cared for just because he’d found the brat: it wasn’t as though it was a boy and worth something, just a snotty little girl that was spoilt too much by her father. The child had been fed a portion of stew and was falling asleep in Hildelith’s arms, trying valiantly to keep her eyes open but it was a losing battle as her mother had lost hers.

Col grinned as she was picked up and carried to her mother’s side. He pulled out his carving and started whittling at the piece of wood, pulling the candle towards him so that he could see better and ignoring the complaints from Sara that she couldn’t see to comb her wool properly.

‘Be careful Col, you’re spilling tallow everywhere,’ Helga said quietly. She had no intention of riling the man. He always gave her the shudders and tonight it was worse than normal. Col growled at her and flicked more of the pieces of wood towards the fire, leaving a trail of shavings from the embers to the edge of the sand filled box. William looked over and frowned.

‘Please show a little more respect to the ladies of this hall Col: I will not tolerate rudeness.’

Col gave William a filthy look. ‘Why should I stay here at all? You don’t value my work, always making up to those no good, thieving Vikings, and that wench of yours should know her place!’

Helga took a deep breath in at the double insult; calling them Vikings and Buffy a wench was unforgivable.

‘My wife is just that Col, my wife, and she will be shown the respect she is due. If you don’t like it you can leave at any time, there is no bond keeping you here.’

‘I will,’ he shouted, lashing out at the upright near him. He knocked over the tallow lamp, straight into the basket of wool Sara had been working on, causing the lanolin-laden fleece to catch fire immediately. It went up as though oil had been poured onto the fire.

Sara screamed and pulled away from the area, backing into another candle that had been placed on one of the benches.

‘Everyone out!’ Shouted William, helping the women to get past the flames that were reaching up to the thatch on the roof. The smoke was thick and choking, and the fire eating everything in its path. Helga pulled blankets and skins off of the benches she could reach, throwing them to the men at the doorway. Col was nowhere to be seen, but everyone else was trying to clear what they could of the hall, saving their belongings. William thought to how much they had shifted during the day and was exceptionally grateful for all the hard work they had put in.

‘Buffy, wake up!’ William yelled: she seemed to stir, pushing the blankets away from her body. Nordlys was crying and coughing, her face alive with panic as the fire got closer and closer to them. William grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his daughter, ensuring that her face was covered as he leapt over the flames to safely. He was yelling the whole time for Buffy but she wasn’t stirring quickly at all. His heart felt like a great weight in the centre of his chest. He burst through the door and handed his precious bundle to the first pair of open arms: it was Andrew.

‘Is everyone out? He shouted, looking round and trying to count heads.

‘Everyone except Buffy,’ Helga told him as she took Nordlys from Andrew and ensured that the baby was alright.

‘She hasn’t woken up?’ William sounded frantic, ‘she was stirring and I had to get Nordlys out: she was frightened.’

Sara started crying. ‘I put some poppy juice in her milk to help her sleep,’ she cried, ‘I thought it would help…’

Hildelith took the hysterical girl into her arms and looked at her lord, but he was gone, gone back into the inferno before them. The flames were lighting up the sky as though it were day.

Helga looked around her at the frightened faces. Time to get them working, physical hard work would stop some of the fear, she knew that.

‘Everyone get buckets and start damping down the new hall and the dairy, Buffy would have something to say if we lost those as well.’ That caused a few small chuckles as people pictured what Buffy would say if anything happened to her nice shiny new home.

‘Andrew, lead the animals away from the fire and tie them up against the far wall; the rest of you get water now.’ She continued.

Orders were shouted as everyone fell to their work, but Helga’s eyes stayed on the door that William had taken. The flames were licking that as well now, and the roof was fully ablaze; she prayed for their safety as her heart broke. Nordlys made a crying sound in her arms and she hushed the child, hoping against hope that her mother and father would make it out alive.

William felt blinded by the smoke: it was thick and black and choked him more on every step. He went down on his knees and felt his way through to the benches. There was no way through to the other side, the thatch was starting to fall in and he could see the flames beginning to lick at the edge of Buffy’s bed. He picked up the top from one of the tables and threw it onto the hearth. It was solid oak and thick enough to not catch quickly. He leapt for the table and used it as a bridge to access the far side of the hall, landing with a thump that drove the air out of his body. Dodging the falling debris, he made it to Buffy’s side.
She was still breathing, her face and body seemed unharmed and even amongst the hell of the fire she looked beautiful. William wrapped her in the thickest of blankets, and then slipped his sword in beside her. He was Norse enough to know what she’d say if they lost that. Picking Buffy up in his arms he turned and ran back for the table top bridge he had made, the fire licking his very footsteps.

How he made it through the door he wasn’t sure, but before he knew where he was Buffy was being taken from his arms and laid on the ground. She was still asleep, but moaning and William gratefully accepted the water that someone handed him. With Buffy and Nordlys safe the whole community watched as fire destroyed the old hall, purifying the ground and leaving no trace.

Buffy surfaced from the drug-induced sleep long before the light from the fire had faded and Nordlys watched open-eyed as her parents shared kiss after kiss.

‘You saved three lives tonight William,’ Buffy whispered as she held on tightly to her heroic husband. She had listened to the story Helga had told and was proud of her Saxon Lord.

‘Three?’ William looked puzzled.

Buffy’s lips held a secret smile. ‘Three,’ she confirmed, ‘Nordlys, me and…’ she lay her hand on her stomach and looked William in the eyes.
She watched as confusion gave way to understanding and he looked down at her abdomen.

‘You’re???’

‘Yes, I’m…’ she replied, laughing with him as he swung her round and round.

William sobered for a moment. ‘What about the hall?’ He asked.

‘Well, Faith said all it needed was a good fire arrow, but I’m not having Col in the new one. I like that one too much to let him burn it down.’


Chapter End Notes:
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