Aenailes

Aema

Aerel

Aenailes is the daughter of a saxon warrior and a saxon warrior in her own right. She met her eventual husband Maurel at King Vortigern's wedding, and while still but a child in british eyes, began fighting as a warrior herself to support the King's alliance. At the same time she exchanged letters with Maurel and met with him at every opportunity (despite Aeddan's "assistance"). Eventually the two were wed, and then they would meet between battles, him still a squire, and her a young warrior building a name for her strength and skill with her axes. When he was eventually knighted, she maintained her role as a warrior, for which Maurel received no end of teasing, and she gained the moniker of the Winterbourne Axe, her wild tangle of fire red hair and large stature a stark contrast to her subdued husband, and her prowess in battle both praised and disdained in turn. (Maurel always suspected was Aeddan that both gave her the moniker and made sure its use proliferated.) Despite Maurel's attempts to deter her, she jumped at every opportunity to participate in the fighting, and relished both the battles themselves and the revelry that followed.

It was her status as a saxon warrior that let her hear whispers of a plot, and it was her loyalty that had her dragging her husband to the Earl to warn him. For her attempts, neither were asked to join the procession or proceedings, and were instead left at home when the Treachery of the Long Knives happened. It was in the wake of that tragedy that she stopped taking part in the fighting herself. After the departure of her mother and brother, and the pervading sentiments of the court, Maurel was finally able to convince her to stay at the estate, and put away her axes. However, despite her acquiescence, and her maintaining the estate since, she made certain that, after Earl Roderick took up the role, he knew that should he ever call on her to fight, she would gladly pick up her axes again to fight for him.

Instead, in the following years, she's nurtured her bonds with the land and focused her attentions on her family and the spirits of the area. While she is no witch or wisewoman in truth, she's gained some practice with poultices, and picked the brains and learned from any druids that passed through the area. And, more quietly, she has still maintained some of the wotanic traditions within her own home.

Aenailes fully understands the appropriate decorum and expectations of the British court, but uses the Saxon stereotypes to ignore propriety where she can. Thus it is known that she will arrive with boars and mead and interrupt someone's day (Namely Earl Roderick or a handful of other older compatriots).

### Timeline

* Born in 442
* Met Maurel at King Vortigert's wedding in 450
* Married Maurel in 456
* Fought at the Battle of Kent for Vortigern in 457
* Fought at the Battle of Cambridge for the Earl of Salisbury in 462
* Dragged her husband with her to appeal to the court to warn the Earl about a possible plot in 463 Warnings fell on deaf ears. This was remembered in the wake of the tragedy.
* Following the Treachery of the Long Knives, she insisted on staying where she was, rather than fleeing with her Saxon relatives.
* Tried joining to fight in the Siege of Carlion, but both Tanree and Maurel pushed her to stay home, as they both had to go as knight and squire.
* Combined estates with Tanree following Maurel 's death in 467

### Snippets

#### *Severed - 488*

It was infected. Kæra was standing so stiffly, when she walked in the door, trying to act fine with Sofie under her good arm and our sprout fretting quietly around them. But, her face is pale and and the arm... I know when I pull off those bandages, it's already rotting. Just like with Mau, I can feel my blood screaming. If I had been there. If I had my axe in hand. If, if, if! I hate it. I'm angry at myself and all these thrice-damned rules and expectations! I want to protect my family. I *should* protect my family. Instead My Kæra had to become a shield when she was yet a babe. Instead my sprout will now have to stand in her place.

I suck in a breath and sweep forward, pulling her close and up into my arms. "Ah, all my loves have returned!" I press a kiss to her forehead and ignore the look Sofie gives me. "There's food on the table, go eat and leave us lovers to be gross, hmm?"

I see Mailes make a face and Sofie smiles sweet and small, and they both head deeper into the manor. Tanree in my arms is so lighter, and I feel her relax as the children retreat. "Aen... I'm sor-" "Hush, love. I-" I choke down what I want to say, we've had that fight too many times, and it's not the time. "You know I wont allow you to finish that. Let's get you somewhere comfortable."

I carry her, close to my heart, to our rooms and lay her carefully on the bed. I reach out, brushing my fingers gently over her face, her hair, her lips, watching her sigh into the touch, and then move on, ghosting down the bruised and injured skin of her right side. I peel her jerkin carefully away, surveying the wreck they made of her. Her skin is red and purple and angry, and I can see where an enemy's shield hooked under her arm to slam into her ribs. And then... Then I slowly unwrap the bandages on her arm. I can see the initial injury - where her arm was hooked by an axe and ripped and twisted until it broke.

But it was green and curled, turning black and grey along the edges. I can see the sickly green curling up along her veins, creeping up in a bid to ruin her. When I meet her eyes - gods, but we both know what must be done. I feel the rage at what's been done to her curl my stomach, and I swallow back the brief swell of nausea. Instead I kiss her forehead gently and brush back her head. "Let me setup, love."

I leave her there to get my tools - alcohol, bandages, leather, and... And my axe. My Kæra takes the alcohol with her left hand, stretching her right out to rest on the side table as I move it out to her. I watch her throat work as she takes a long pull and I feel my heart swell. She's been so strong for so long. If nothing else... It will be good to let her finally rest. I tie the bandaging tight and high on her arm, and don't look when she flinches. She takes another long pull as I take the axe to the hearth, heating the blade and giving time for the arm to be pinched numb.

My hands are steady, and that feels like a betrayal, even though I know it's a kindness. This isn't how things should ever have gone. I remember her, smiling and relaxed in her summer finery with Tanaerel just a babe at arms. Aeddan pestering Maurel and her rattling off dreams for the future... *At least she is still alive.*

I return with the axe, and she shoves the leather bit in her mouth, expression steeled for what is to come, despite the glassy haze from the drink. I take her lower arm in my hand - so slim compared to my own. The axe is but an extension of my arm, flamed to red and raised up and-

Her muffled scream rattles hollow inside my skull, mirrored with the images of her holding our babes - never to happen again, and I work to seal the injury - charr it shut and wrap it with salve and clean linen. I know my throat is working, whispering sweetness to her, but I couldn't say what it was.

When all is done I brush sweaty hair from her forehead, and hold her close on our bed, listening silently to her heaving breaths until the sky turns to black outside our window, and her breaths ease into a proper slumber.

### Family

#### *Partners*

* Maurel - Husband
* Tanree - Lover

#### *Children*

* Tanaerel - Not by blood
* Mailes
* Aerel
* Aema