ACT I — CHAPTER I
Tʜᴇ Pᴀᴄᴛ

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Kinsley always hated it when Calvert left her behind.

He claimed it was for her safety, that she was too young to be fighting in wars and battles, as if he was not doing the same at thirteen. However, Kinsley knew that it was a losing fight.

For the past eight years, the pair had been traveling from village to village, from town to town, working on farms all day and sleeping in people's barns as payment. When Calvert grew old enough, if the town they were staying in needed men for a fyrd, he would go, leaving Kinsley behind.

His reasoning would be that she was too young, or that she was a girl. Kinsley never understood that line of thought, because boys younger than her would join the fyrd, and she had spent most of her life pretending to be a boy.

"If I must cut my hair short, I should be able to fight with you," she argued, "I'm as good a warrior as anyone."

Which was true. Kinsley would beg Calvert to train her to fight, and he would oblige. They would fight with whatever farm tools were available to them, and, over the years, Kinsley got pretty good. At only thirteen, she would be able to hold her own in a fight. Could she win? Maybe, if she was quick enough, and clever enough.

"I know you are," Calvert said, shoving the few belongings he had into his pack, "But you would not survive a shield wall."

"Then I won't be in the shield wall. I'll stay behind it," Kinsley replied.

"And if someone gets past the shield wall?" Calvert questioned.

"I'll kill him!"

"And if more than one person gets past?"

"I'll kill them all!"

Calvert sighed. He walked over to his sister, patting her shoulder, "You can come with me next time, alright?"

"That's what you said last time," Kinsley reminded him, "And the time before that, and the time before —"

"Next time. I promise," Calvert said, looking down at her, "There's no need to worry there won't be another — there will always be battles to fight."

So, Kinsley watched as Calvert left the small barn they were staying in to join Lord Wulfhere's fyrd, leaving her behind in Wiltshire.

She spent the weeks of his absence doing chores around the farm they had been grateful enough to find a home in. In the mornings, the woman who lived in the house would bring Kinsley breakfast, and at night she brought her dinner — her payment for taking up all the work that the woman's husband and Calvert had left behind when they joined the fyrd.

Life without Calvert was always quite dull. He had been the only constant in her life, and whenever he was gone, it felt as if her world stopped. Who was she without her brother? Kinsley wasn't sure she knew.

When Calvert returned after the Battle of Ethandun, it was with a proposition that she had been waiting all her life for, the chance to travel with her brother, wherever he went. However, it came with a catch.

"You want to follow some Dane to God knows where?" Kinsley asked, sitting on a stool in the barn, "After what they did to us?"

"Lord Uhtred is a Saxon, from Northumbria," Calvert explained.

"A Saxon who calls himself Ragnarsson," Kinsley said, "He aligns himself with Danes and he takes their names. I would expect you, of all people, to know better than to trust him, let alone blindly follow him."

Calvert had hated Danes more than anyone Kinsley had ever met, including herself, as he had more memories from the night their village was attacked than she did. The fact that he now stood in front of her trying to convince her to go with a Dane, after all the prejudices he held, was something that Kinsley couldn't wrap her head around.

"It's not blindness — he saved my life at Ethandun," Calvert argued, "I'd be dead right now if it weren't for him. He jumped over a shield wall, Kinsley, you should have seen it."

"When someone saves your life, you say thank you and move on, you don't swear fealty to him," Kinsley said, crossing her arms as she glared up at her brother.

Calvert sighed, running a hand over his face, "I understand your reservations. I had them too, at first. But Uhtred is not like other lords. He cares for his men. He asked me to join him because he respects me."

"And you just accepted without a thought for me?"

"No, I told him I wouldn't go with him, not without you," Calvert said. He stood in front of Kinsley, placing his hands on her shoulder as he looked at her, "If you do not wish to join him, then we won't. But I ask that you meet him before you make a decision. This could lead to a life of stability for us, to a true home. Just speak with him, for me."

And so, because Kinsley loved her brother, she agreed to speak with Uhtred Ragnarsson. Except, when he, another man, and a nun showed up at their farm the next day, he introduced himself as Uhtred of Bebbanburg.

"Are you not Ragnarsson, then?" she asked, sitting on her stool with her arms crossed once again.

"I am," Uhtred said, wandering around the barn. He stopped in front of the makeshift bed of straw, "But Bebbanburg is my rightful home."

"Then why are you here, fighting for King Alfred?" Kinsley asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him.

"I swore an oath to him. But now, I plan to reclaim my home," Uhtred told her. She watched as he glanced back to Calvert, who stood by the wall.

He looked like a proper Dane, even if Calvert said he was a Saxon. He dressed in furs and leather like a Dane, and had long, unruly hair like one.

"And that is what you want my brother for? To follow you as you reclaim your home?" Kinsley asked.

"That is the plan, yes."

"And you would take a child with you?"

Uhtred looked over at her, his hands on his side, "How old are you?"

"Eleven," Kinsley answered. Calvert always told her to say she was two years younger than she really was. He said it would make it easier for her to pass as a boy for longer.

"You're well-spoken for a boy of eleven," Uhtred remarked, "If you were a Dane you would have had a sword in your hands years ago. But your brother tells me you fight well enough with a rake."

The man standing with the nun laughed at those words. Kinsley sat up in her seat.

"Are you mocking me? Is that what this is?" she questioned, turning to Calvert, "I will not sit here and be taunted by some Dane as he stands in my barn —"

"Halig is no Dane. He's from here, served with me in Lord Wulfhere's fyrd," Calvert said, walking over to Halig and roughly grabbing his arm, "And he will not be saying anything else."

"I didn't mean anything by it!" Halig argued, but Calvert had already shoved him out of the barn and shut the door behind him.

"I don't want to go with him, Calvert," Kinsley said, hopping off her stool, "Can you get them to leave?"

"Because you think I mocked you?" Uhtred asked, "Or because I'm a Dane?"

"Both," Kinsley spat, rounding in Calvert, "I don't know what has gotten into you. You know what people like him did to us. I won't hear any more of it."

"Kinsley, you promised —"

"I have spoken with him, as you wished, and I don't like what I am hearing," she said, cutting her brother off, "Let me know when they're gone."

Kinsley went over to the ladder that led up to the loft, climbing up it before collapsing on a pile of hay. She did her best not to listen to the conversation occurring below her.

Perhaps she was overreacting. Maybe she should listen to more of what Uhtred had to say. But she had seen what Danes did to her village, to her mother and father. How Calvert could have forgotten so quickly astounded her.

The barn quieted, and Kinsley could hear someone coming up the ladder. She sighed in relief.

"Are they gone?" she asked, sitting up. Her heart dropped when she realized it was the nun.

"I come in peace," the nun said, putting her hands up, "May I sit with you?"

Kinsley didn't say anything, but the nun took that as a yes. She sat down next to her on the hay, as Kinsley tugged on her boot's laces.

"I am Hild," the nun said, "Your brother, he speaks of you quite often."

"Why would a nun follow a murderous Dane?" Kinsley asked.

"Is that why you don't like Lord Uhtred? Because you think he's murderous?" Hild questioned.

"All Danes are murderous. It's in their blood."

"Because of what happened to your village?"

Kinsley froze. How much had Calvert said?

"Yes, your brother told us about your village, and your parents. Do you wish to know why?" Hild asked, not waiting for an answer, "Because he trusts Lord Uhtred."

"If he trusts him so much, then he should go without me. He's always leaving me, anyways," Kinsley grumbled, still picking at her bootlace.

Hild sighed, "You asked why I follow him? It's because he saved me."

"From who?"

"Danes."

Kinsley huffed at the irony of that.

"The world is not black and white. You cannot paint all Danes as bad and all Saxons as good," Hild said, looking down at the girl.

"Does it not go against God to side with a heathen?" Kinsley asked, pulling apart pieces of hay.

"What do you think?"

"I don't think much of God."

That was the truth. God had abandoned her and Calvert when their village was attacked. Why spend time worshipping a God who doesn't care about her?

"Here is what I will say. I follow Lord Uhtred in spite of his Gods, as does your brother," Hild said, "He is an honorable man. If you ever wanted to leave his service, he would let you. And listen when I say — your brother held this same resentment you do. If your brother trusts him, then I would consider it."

Hild squeezed Kinsley's shoulder before leaving the loft and heading down the ladder. Kinsley fell back down on the hay.

Calvert trusted him. Someone who hated Danes more than anyone was now willing to follow one. Perhaps she should take Hild's words to heart. If Uhtred really was honorable, then maybe there was a future of stability ahead, like Calvert suggested. She wouldn't be left behind anymore, or, at least, she would be able to make it a lot more difficult for them too.

But Uhtred was a Dane, and the images of her gutted parents would never leave her mind. There was no way of knowing he wouldn't do the same to another innocent village.

And then an idea came to Kinsley, and, because she was thirteen, it sounded like a phenomenal one.

She sat up, going over to the ladder and practically sliding down it. She walked to the barn doors, her brother's voice growing louder as she approached.

"I won't leave without him. Kinsley is all I have left, and he will always come first —"

Kinsley opened the barn doors and was met with Calvert's back, along with the surprised faces of Uhtred, Hild, and Halig. Calvert turned to face her.

"Kinsley? What are you —"

"Hild said he was honorable, and that if we wanted to leave, he would let us," she said, looking up at her brother, "Do you believe that?"

"I do," Calvert answered immediately.

Kinsley nodded, refocusing her gaze onto Uhtred, "Then I have a proposition for you."

Uhtred smiled, clearly amused, "And what would that be?"

"I'll go with you. But, if you do anything dishonorable, I get to kill you."

Calvert immediately groaned, "Kinsley —"

"What do you consider dishonorable?" Uhtred asked, crossing his arms.

"Killing someone who doesn't deserve it," she answered.

Kinsley's hands gripped onto the barn door as Uhtred briefly thought it over. Halig's brow was raised in surprise, Hild had a satisfied expression on her face, and Calvert looked slightly annoyed.

After not too long, Uhtred shrugged.

"That seems fair enough to me," he said, holding his hand out for her to shake, "Will you be killing me with a rake?"

"No, with a sword," Kinsley told him as she took his hand, shaking it, "Because I will get a sword. It is a part of our pact."

"If you wish it," Uhtred laughed, "I'll even help train you."

Kinsley's face lit up, "You will?"

"I will. But you will start with an axe. They're easier to wield."

That night, Kinsley and Calvert packed the little amount of belongings they had and they left the barn in Wiltshire, with the hopes that one day, they would get to sleep in a house of their own.

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WRITTEN: december 2024
EDITED: january 2025
WORDS: 2,200

AUTHOR'S NOTE! first chapter!! i actually don't like it that much lol but i needed a lead in to the show, and i think it does it well.

so yeah kinsley's pretending to be a boy, and everyone thinks she's a boy except calvert obviously, so there may be some pronoun confusion, just bear with me lol. it won't be for long.

in the timeline this takes place a few months before season two and like a week after the battle of ethandun at the end of season one. i will probably never talk about the timeline again because it gives me a headache lol.

i hope you lived the first chapter 🤭 im very excited for this fic!!