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There were a lot of things that Uhtred was supposed to be, the lord of Bebbanburg, husband, father, brother, and oathman to a king he had never liked. But he had yet to take back his home, his wife was dead, his children taken, and now he had betrayed his brother all for a king who had always despised him. And yet for whatever reason fate had degreed that Uhtred would always go to Alfred’s aid. Uhtred knew life would have been easier had he just stayed with Ragnar, with their combined forces they could have taken back Bebbanburg, but what then? Uhtred would be a Saxon surrounded by Danes, and while loved the Danes he had no wish to live under their rule. He may not like Alfred, but he understood his vision of creating unity amongst the Saxons.
“When I held the knife to your throat, I could never have taken your life.
I would have beaten you, gladly.
But I would never be the man who killed Alfred, King of Saxons.”
The thought of killing Alfred had never crosses his mind, he needed to escape but he never would have killed him. Despite the man’s disdain for him, Uhtred had come to care for the king, he wasn’t supposed to though, why care for someone who hates you. Yet as Alfred and he clasped hands he could see that while the king was supposed to treat him as an outlaw there was forgiveness and regret in those sharp blue eyes that’s brightness had never diminished but were still as alert and observing as they’d been when Alfred was young. Uhtred realized he was going to miss staring into those eyes, as cold and calculating as they were at times, Uhtred had found them captivating.
When Alfred brought up the marshes and Iseult, Uhtred felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. He was still plagued with guilt over her death, he hadn’t truly loved her, but he had been fascinated with her and her powers. The time they spent in the marshes was probably the time that Uhtred had liked Alfred the most, they were as close to being equals as they’d ever been both forced to flee from their homes, yet despite everything Alfred had regained what was is, whereas Uhtred had lost even more. His son had died in Edward’s place, Mildred had separated from him (not that he had minded), Iseult had her head taken, and Leofric, Uhtred couldn’t bring himself to think of him while he was here with Alfred. Uhtred was aware that if he hadn’t had Leofric then there was a good chance he might have tried to gain Alfred’s friendship, he couldn’t wish to have had one and not the other though, he had had is time with the warrior and it had passed, just as time he had with the king was now passing away, but unlike with the warrior Uhtred had never been able to come to terms with what he felt for Alfred for all these years, he still didn’t fully understand it yet, and now it was too late. This was they’re final meeting and Uhtred couldn’t stop the tears from falling, this wasn’t supposed to happen, they had both spoken harshly to each other, hurt one another, and yet here they were hands clasped weeping knowing this was the end for them.