#edith eadig

[mercurygray]

Hi, could you show me to the support group for Edith Eadig addicted readers?

I've been scouring every platform for Godwin fics until I found yours on here. Masterpieces, every single snippet, and I adore their story (as you might have noticed from my spam liking and reblogging).

I noticed that in the Godwin-centric fic, he and Edith really met in secret and engaged in a real sexual relationship, but that was never (I think) in the other ficlets. I'd be super interested to read their first real sexual encounter and how their relationship transitioned from fake courtship to "booty calls" (if I got that right).

I'd also love to read more about you headcanons for both of them -- pre-show and S1&S2.

I'm not sure whether you're even currently writing for them (ignore this if you don't), but if you do, could you write for Edith during Season 2? Perhaps the moment she realises Godwin is only using Aelfwynne for his own advancement? I'm not sure whether you'll have him marry Gytha or whether Edith can spoil his plans. If she can, perhaps you could write their meeting afterwards when Godwin has realised that he was crossed and cannot help but admire Edith's skill while at the same time also being in a terrible mood for not having achieved his goal?

I'm sorry, these are three and a half requests in a trenchcoat; let me know if you want me to send them individually!

HI HELLO WELCOME. You can join @muse-oleum (and maybe @therealvikingstrash?) on this adventure. This is a very small support group.

I'll start at the end - the reason I stopped writing isn't anything bad, just that my Netflix subscription expired shortly after the show aired and (while I did see all of S2) the slightly more plotty nature of that season meant it was really hard to go back and try to write fic without having the show to reference. :(

BUT that doesn't mean I can't try to answer your questions!

So this is interesting - because in my head, and I think in what exists on paper, they've never gotten to that level of physical intimacy. They've both thought about it, but never committed to it. (I know exactly which piece gave you that idea, though.)

I had thought that after the need to deceive Aelfgifu has passed, it would be natural for them to look at the lie they just spent a few weeks selling and realize they both weren't lying and then have sex. Knowing that Godwin does eventually marry Gytha, even before S2 aired, I also had thought that Edith might be his mistress for a little while.

Season 2 presents a problem in that regard, though. For starters - Aelfwynn was new. She kind of fills in the space Edith occupied in my fanon timeline. Godwin's love life was going to be a little crowded with the both of them there. If Godwin has this plan to make himself indispensable to Canute and undermine Emma by creating suspicion around Aelfwynn, a plan that it seems like he has been sitting on for a long time, if I'm interpreting the show correctly, it seems to me that he wouldn't stop to have or start that relationship with Edith. Too many loose ends.

It felt cleaner for them to have never gotten physical, for him to say 'okay, that's one thing finished, on to the next' and leave Edith sad, frustrated, and now highly suspicious. (Emma, of course, was out of town for all of this and has no idea it happened, so she skips immediately to 'oh so Aelfwynn is a thing now' and Edith never tells her about it. If Edith had said something, it seems to me that would be one more reason for Emma to be suspicious of Godwin quicker than she is.)

I did write one or two small things for season 2, which I think you've already ready - but I think I'd have to watch the show again to figure out where Edith is during Godwin and Gytha's wedding.

ALL OF THIS TO SAY - thank you for the compliment of saying you need a support group. That means so much to me.

[muse-oleum]

The Sea Snake - Alfhild Sveynsdottir

This has been festering in my mind for months and I have have to get it out in preparation for AU-gust 2023. It's just a little ficlet to introduce Alfhild Sveyndottir, an OC in the Vikings: Valhalla universe. I hope you can begin to make her out with the few words I've given you here. I would like to credit (blame? blame lovingly?) @mercurygray for giving me the Godwin x OC creative demon after rereading all her Edith Eadig works (which you should totally check out). Please let me know what you think!

He heard the door grind open once more. He sighed, turned on his side, ready to tell the Viking prince to go shove his promise somewhere he could not possibly reach for it, and froze. 

He had not expected her.

"Well, well."

Godwin closed his eyes. Out of all of King Canute's horde, of course it had to be her. 

"A sight I never expected to see," she walked into the cell, traces of blood still on her face. "Godwin, whisperer of kings and little bird of the alehouses, brought so low." 

"Alfhild."

He was rather proud of how he'd managed to keep his tone neutral, his face blank. 

Once upon a time (and perhaps even now), Alfhild Sveynsdòttir had been the most intimidating woman he had ever met. Tall, deadly graceful, she was a true shieldmaiden. Her long red hair was bound in a tight braid at the back of head, no doubt mingled with the blood of some unfortunate interloper. 

It seemed the feast had gone well. 

She sat almost exactly where Prince Harald had sat, looking over him with the same blank expression he was sure he was directing right back at her. She had, after all, always been much better at this game than her friend. 

Where Harald could not sit still, she stood immovable, the sword at her hip enough to dissuade most foolhardy idiots. Where he raged, she smiled, deadlier than a snake. 

They said her mother had hailed from the furthest Northern reaches of the Viking world, where the sun never set for months at a time and where the night lasted throughout winter. He'd heard the legends, even after she'd left England to go find out more about the mother she'd never known. 

They said she had been a siren and that Alfhild herself was born in the North Sea before her father claimed her.

It would certainly explain her mastery of the sea. He'd heard the Viking guards at his door speak of her aiding another boat captain, Leif Eriksson, through a raging storm. 

A sea snake, then. 

"Tell me," she asked, her features trembling in the firelight, "do all prisoners get their own personal fires?"

He couldn't help the twitch of his lips. It was not the question he had been expecting. Once again, she had disarmed him. 

"I do not believe so."

One delicate, blood marked, eyebrow shot up. 

"I would think you well acquainted with the cells and their inmates."

It’s true, he had put many there and ensured they would never get out. Or, at least, not with their head. 

Godwin did not relish violence, but he was no stranger to it, had been its intimate friend for years. Where England was concerned, there was nothing he wouldn’t do, especially if it aided his plans. He had sworn to himself long ago that he would do what was necessary to crawl out of the mire his father had left for him. 

Alfhild had always been astute enough to notice his thirst for power, where all the other only saw the orphaned son of a traitorous noble.

Noble blood recognized noble blood, and she had always treated him as her equal. 

But right now, he was at her feet and she was standing back up. 

“Keep those ears of yours to the ground, Godwin. My brother will see you soon.” She smiled in the blade-sharp way that was so uniquely hers. “Perhaps he will find a use for you.”

Of course, he would.

[therealvikingstrash]

- Edith Eadig -

Fanart for @mercurygray​‘s wonderful OC Edith who popped up in her Vikings: Valhalla works- give them a read if you haven’t yet!😊 It came about due to her post of finding a potential face-claim. Now, I’m not saying this is 100% Edith, but I definitely say that this is the way she looks in my head and anyone is welcome to use the picture to envision her if they want to.

[encomium-emmae]

things you said when we were in danger

For @mercurygray’s 1000 Followers Fest, featuring Emma of Normandy from Vikings: Valhalla and Edith, her lady-in-waiting

Emma was running. 

Skirts fisted in her hands, she ran from the battlements, down past the gates and into the streets, through the doorway to the palace and up the winding staircase that led to the safety of her rooms. But it was not her own safety that was of concern to her. 

The thing she had feared most—the nightmare she had tried at all costs to keep from happening—had come to pass. The Vikings had drawn them into battle, cutting their army down without mercy. Edmund was now their prisoner and the bridge, in her mind as solid as the ground under her feet, had been ripped apart by nothing more than wind and water and a handful of boats. Soon enough, Canute’s men would find their way to the other side of the river, a swarm of locusts looking to consume—and to enact vengeance. But before that happened, she had to get back to them, to make sure they were kept out of harm’s way. Nothing else mattered. 

Her feet skimmed the flagstones as she ran down the corridor, eerily deserted. Emma slipped past the thick oaken door and into the room, her heart shuddering with relief at the sight before her. 

Sitting on the floor next to the fireplace were Edward and Alfred, playing at soldiers with wooden men and horses, blissfully unaware of the real battle unfolding just beyond the palace walls. And seated in a chair, warming her legs by the fire, was Edith. 

She had left them here only a few hours ago, even though it felt like days. Edith had helped her dress, tightening the laces of her brocade gown, adjusting the clasps of her rabbit-fur cape, and then Emma had kissed the tops of her sons’ heads, bidding them farewell before she made her way to the old Roman defenses. She had hoped to return with good news, to tell them that the enemy had been defeated and the danger now past. 

Seeing Emma, her lady-in-waiting quickly rose to her feet, her blue eyes full of unspoken questions. 

Emma shook her head, lips parting to let her catch her breath. 

“All is lost,” she murmured. “They are coming.”

At the sight of their mother, Edward and Alfred quickly forgot their game and scrambled toward her, eager for her attention. She smoothed the silky strands of their hair along their heads and pulled them close, not wanting to think of when she might be able to do so again.

“Edith was telling us stories,” Alfred began to babble, “about Arthur and his men and how they killed giants and dragons and then how he became king...”

Emma glanced up at her lady-in-waiting, their gazes meeting in a shared look that conveyed much in the few moments it spanned. But Edith was always so clever; it never took long for her to understand what needed to be done—and then to do it. 

“Shall I ready them to leave?” she asked.

Emma nodded. “Find them plain tunics, and traveling coats. If anyone asks, they are orphans or the children of a city merchant. Anything but the sons of Æthelred.”

“You are not coming with us?”

“I am a prize,” Emma said, unable to mask the waver in her breath. “The Vikings will be looking for me, and they will not stop. You are safer without me.”

Edith’s eyes widened in partial horror, then narrowed in defiance. 

“I will not leave you to face them alone, my lady.”

Emma reached out, clasping the other woman’s hand in hers. There were few others she trusted as she did Edith, not just with her sons’ lives, but with her own. Even from those first abject days, when she could only speak in broken English, when silent tears gathered in her eyes with each visit of the king to the marital bed, Edith had been her only friend. Perhaps it was because Edith, too, was friendless, the eldest daughter of an impoverished, disgraced ealdorman. But in the years since, no one had proven themselves more loyal and more brave. More than anyone else, it was Edith who she could entrust Edward and Alfred to, knowing that she loved them as if they were her own. 

“But you must. It will be enough for me to know that you have kept them safe.”

Edith pressed her lips together, her gaze fearful yet resolute. 

“Where will you go?” she asked. 

Emma paused, considering the question. Hiding would do no good—the Vikings knew well how to find their quarry and bring it to ground—and she refused to cower or to beg. She was a queen, after all, so perhaps she could simply let herself be found. And if she demanded protection from the king, even a Viking king like Canute, he would be honor-bound to grant it. 

“If they want the Queen of England as their prize, I will make sure they know what they are getting.” She let out a rough breath, then squeezed along Edith’s hand, offering her a confiding smile. “Get them out of the palace, if you can. If not, somewhere quiet and hidden, where you will not draw attention.”

Edith nodded, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “I know well how to hide.”

“I know you do,” she said, thoughts sharpening with realization. Dearest Edith, you may have tried to keep yourself hidden. But I’ve always seen you. 

Emma knelt down, clasping her sons along their shoulders. Their eyes were wide, trusting in the way that only children could be, and she wanted nothing more than to hold them in her arms and keep them there forever, protected from the evils of the world.

“I want you both to go with Lady Edith, and I want you to be good for her. Perhaps she will tell you more stories about King Arthur and his bravery.”

“Are you going away again, mother?” Edward asked.

She gently brushed his hair back from his face. “Only for a little while,” she said. Was it a lie if she did not know what the truth was? Was it enough simply to pray it would be true? “I will see you both again, very soon.”

Emma kissed her sons, and held them one more time, their bodies so small and soft next to hers. She could feel tears forming and she was determined not to let them show. 

She stood, watching as Edith took the children’s hands in her own and gathered them to her side. There was nothing left to say, no words to convey the depth of her love and fear or of the gratitude she felt at this final act of service. Emma let her eyes take their fill of all three of them, knowing it might be the last time she did so on this earth.

“Thank you, Edith. God keep you safe.”

“Bless you, my lady,” she replied, unshed tears pooling in the corners of her sky-blue eyes. With one final glance, she ushered the children from the room, the sound of skirts and small footsteps swiftly receding. 

The quiet was deafening, a chasm in Emma’s heart, the silence slowly punctuated by the distant ringing of alarum bells. The Vikings had made it into the city, their cruelty and berserker rage about to be unleashed on all its inhabitants. But she could do little to protect her people unless she managed to keep herself alive—and for that she would need all her wits.

Slipping out the door, she followed the path of the stone-lined corridor, heading in the opposite direction that Edith and her sons had fled just a moment earlier. Emma knew where she would wait for the Vikings, and when they came for her she would meet them head on, as the Queen of England and everything that stood for. 

She moved hastily, her thoughts on the battle she was now to undertake. But her heart was elsewhere, keeping company with three others, praying for the hour when God might see fit to return them to her arms. 

[mercurygray]

hi hello friend it’s me feeding the Godwin/Edith muse yet again because ✨reasons✨ but could I request something for them for ‘22. blood’ from your latest prompt reblog? 🧡

Sorry this took so long, friend! More 1920s Peaky Blinders AU -how could I not, with a prompt like this?

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Edith took a long, deep breath, her eyes fixed on the task at hand. "It's not my job to ask questions."

"And you're not at all curious?"

"It may surprise you to know that bloodstains are a somewhat regular occurrence in this house, Mr. Saxon-West. I stopped being curious a long time ago."

But she was curious, just a little, to know how exactly her employer's lawyer had come to be covered in blood, though she could fill in the gaps, a little, if she squinted long enough.

A car had squealed up the drive at nearly midnight, rain pelting the windshield, and several men had gotten out, banging down the door and bundling someone inside as they shouted for bandages and a doctor and heaven only knows what else, and waking up the entire house while they did it. Edith was quickly out on the landing in her dressing gown, joined almost immediately by Emma, looking around to see what was wrong. "Mama?" Two bleary-eyed boys emerged from the nursery.

"Hush, my darlings, there's nothing to worry about," Emma said, picking the younger up and walking back to the nursery. She turned around to Edith and her eyes gestured downstairs. Go and see.

Edith tightened the belt of her dressing gown and took a deep breath. If her lady wanted answers, then answers she would get.

Lord Edmund had been shot. The details hardly mattered to Edith - at a club, or a bar, or his mistress' house made no difference whatsoever. He was presently laid on the dining room table, wounds staunched with dishtowels and being seen to by the doctor, and some of the minders he'd had with him were in his stepfather's study letting their clothes dry, helping themselves to Canute's whiskey and - perhaps, in one instance - the charms of one of the parlor maids, who'd been summoned to lay a fire for them.

Edith did not know yet why Godwin had been there, though she had some ideas. He and the young lord had been very close lately, hatching plans for his inheritance. Edmund liked to live larger than his funds sometimes allowed, and some disreputable friends often helped him do it. Since his stepmother's marriage to Canute he'd delighted in joining his stepfather's bullyboys for their jaunts around town, and they, in turn, delighted in his foolish ability to spend money.

But that still didn't explain the lawyer - who had quietly removed himself from the group in the study and joined Edith in the hall. "Miss Eden, I wonder if you might help me with my shirt."

Which was how they had come to be in the first floor butler's pantry, Godwin currently leaning, shirtless, against the counter while Edith blotted the blood out of his shirtfront with cold water and salt.

"I'm also not sure why you think I would care, Mr. Saxon-West." The silence had been bothering her, and she felt it needed to be said. I'm a secretary at best and lady's maid at worst.

"Because you're Lady Emma's creature, and she never met a piece of information she couldn't use."

A creature, am I? See how you like me, then. "And you never met someone you couldn't blackmail, sir."

He chuckled at that. "So you're not afraid of being found with me in your dressing gown?"

"You don't appear to be afraid of being found fucking the help." A thread of laughter stumbled through the slightly open door. "Although if that's really what you're after, sir, I'm sure what's in the study is more to your taste."

Godwin was very close to her now, his shoulder close with hers. "I don't really go for shared goods," he said, voice supremely casual. "Or public pleasure, for that matter." He watched her closely, and she did not want to meet his eye. She knew Canute's men speculated about her - she could see their eyes following her as they came and went from the house. "That's where we were, before coming here. A club, you might call it. Now I daresay they're all in a bit of a mood."

She could see it now, the sort of place he meant - Edmund had been dressed for dinner and so was Godwin, so it somewhere for men with money, being lenient to let in Edmund's 'friends'. "And was Lord Edmund getting shot part of the mood?" She parried back. "Or an unfortunate consequence?"

But he did not answer her immediately - instead he kissed her, full on the lips, and she was so surprised she let him, his shirt slipping into the damp sink along with the brush. They had been in close quarters before, but never this close, while both were barely clothed. If you're going to taunt me, fine.

"Consequence," he said, finally, his eyes fixed on hers. "Are you sure I can't tempt you to something stronger, Miss Eden? Perhaps somewhere more private?"

"You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Saxon-West. My mistress needs me and creatures," she used his word with deliberate sharpness, "must go where they're called." She stepped away. "I believe your shirt is finished - it'll just need to dry."

She left him in the pantry and walked quickly across the hall, glancing in to the dining room to see both Emma and Canute, too, waiting in vigil over Edmund's still body, the doctor still somehow at work. There's a story there, for certain, she thought to herself. But I'd never get the truth about it from him.

[mercurygray]

hewooo friend ✨

i hope life is treating you well! it’s your local Edith Support Group™️ founder and patron here to ask if you’d be willing to write a lil something for her with “44 – relief’ from your recent word prompt list?

thank you 🤍

He was only meant to be a relief.

If she had to sit through this farce of a wedding, Edith allowed that she would have a good time after. And so she was.

His name was Hemming - he was one of Canute's captains, newly come to court. He had kind eyes and a seaman's large and weathered hands, hands that he'd used to pull her away from the party and into one of the castle's many corridors so he might kiss her and whisper endearments in her ear and challenge the laces of her dress. His body was different than Godwin's, broader in the shoulder and heavier, built by hard labor at the sail and the oar, but it wasn't unpleasant, and she was enjoying his attention for as long as she could make it last. It had been too long since someone had held her and proclaimed her pretty, and he was answering like rain after a drought.

Her captain changed his tack, hand cupping her leg through her skirt, and her eyes flew open, pressing herself back for better balance against the wall. He murmured something in Danish, his great golden head moving away from hers, and she caught the eye of someone across the room - Godwin himself, staring forlornly down the corridor. Edith tightened her hand around Hemming's hair, her smile curling a little as his lips sucked at her neck. See? You could have had me, Earl of Wessex. You could have had me and you chose power and a throne instead. So go enjoy your bride and her smiles - someone else will have joy of mine.

The way Godwin's face fell to see her was a relief, too. At least he regrets that.

[mercurygray]

Tough weeks ahead at uni and health struggles along the way therefore: self-care. Could I request 28. ‘undress’ from your most recent prompt list for Edith and Godwin pleaaaase? 👉🏻👈🏻

The air was thick with laughter.

The weather was fine, for June, not too hot or cold, and the sun promised a beautiful day. A perfect day for traveling, in other words -The queen was on her way to Winchester, for her yearly visit, and had stopped to enjoy the sunshine and the opportunity for her ladies to bathe.

They would not see him, if they stopped to look - the guards were far enough away and they were free and easy here, under the apple blossoms, the water speckled white with falling flowers.

Godwin hardly needed the spectacle - there were fleshhouses aplenty in WInchester, if one knew where to look and had the coin to pay. Pilgrims came seeking many things in that city, and not everyone regarded the ways of the flesh as a sin. But it was here, and it was easy enough to watch, hidden as he was by the thicket. He should have been watching Aelfwynn, splashing with the other younger girls, but try as he might she could not hold his eye - it kept wandering to another woman, near the edge, her hair just as dark and long and lovely.

He'd never seen Edith undressed- their subterfuge with Aelfgifu had hardly needed to go that far. Even now, he could not see all of her, standing in the pond in her shift, the water making it cling to her. But he knew the feeling of her body, the curve of her hips and her buttocks, the softness of her breasts. And there had been a time when he'd wanted - wanted all of it, and more.

If he were closer he might see the color of her nipples behind the wet linen, how they stood when she was cold - how her smile might change if he took one in his hand. And if he closed his eyes for just a moment he could conjure her closer - standing here in the shadows, wet and in her shift.

You could have had me, her voice reminded. I was close and quick for you and you could have said a word and made me yours. But you were greedy, Godwin. Her voice was soft and seductive in his ear. And you didn't think I could give you want you wanted.

You couldn't.

Power, perhaps - but you want other things, too.

Other women could give me those.

Oh, what a ripple of laughter then! Aelfwynn could try - and Gytha, too. But they'll never be what you really want - and you already know that. You want salt and silk - and someone who's not afraid to say no.

"Oh, leave me be," he whispered aloud, but no one heard him- and only the laughter answered back.

[mercurygray]

I heard the bar is open 👀 Could i maybe perhaps request 31 and 44 (lies & words) for Godwin and Edith pretty please? Maybe you could write them as you used to for season 1 and it’ll help you in deciding where they go from there?

She'd been a fool to think it meant anything.

That was who he was, wasn't it? Godwin the Clever, Godwin the Many-Faced, Godwin the Liar. And she was Edith the Fool.

Aelfgifu had been dealt with - the threat to the crown had been removed. Queen Emma had her ships and Godwin had the queen's gratitude and Edith had…nothing, again, except a broken heart. Silly, really.

Perhaps the thing that galled her the most was that she'd really thought he'd cared, that it wasn't all just an act. For weeks they'd trysted and kissed and groped and it had not been …without feeling, or complete detachment. Was he such a good liar, to do all that? That night, after Emma had returned to her throne, and Aelfgifu was sent away in disgrace, Edith had pressed her luck and caught Godwin at the feast, her hand soft against his. "Perhaps we could …celebrate later, my lord?"

He'd paused - actually paused - and then just as suddenly shaken his head and moved away, leaving her alone and foolish. There was never really any knowing with him, now, was there? Everything he did was weighed and measured against what it would get him, and she, Edith, would get him nothing he could not get himself.

And if she spoke of it, who would believe her? The queen knew her to be indifferent to him, their attachment one of necessity only. And if he took another lover, well, Edith was known to be cold and changeable, wasn't she? It would be her fault he had been spurned.

Edith looked at the sewing in her hands and took a deep breath. She hadn't made much progress this morning - hadn't made any progress at all, actually. There were more ladies now, in Emma's retinue, new faces to liven up the court so that new fathers could be appeased and brought into the Queen's favor. The royal chambers were hardly as quiet as they were wont to be of old, and that somehow left more time for getting lost in thought. She was hardly paying attention to the others when she heard her name.

"How pretty! You must show Edith."

God bless Gytha and her sweetness. It was hard to believe, some days, that she was Canute's neice. They hardly seemed related. "Show me what?" Edith asked, putting aside her thoughts and the shirt she was mending for Emma to see what was being talked of.

Aelfwynn, one of the new girls, beamed. "Earl Godwin has given me a carving, from near my home in Northumbria. We were talking the other day about having to leave home. He saw it in the market and said he thought of me."

She handed over a small wooden bear - a child's toy or votive object, but beautifully carved, its surface waxed dark and smooth. Edith tried to keep her expression serene. "Very pretty indeed. How thoughtful of the Earl."

"You know him well, Edith, do you not?" Elfrith was another newcomer, quick-witted and quick-eyed. Men liked her laugh, Edith had noticed, and Elfrith liked to be liked.

"I don't know that anyone could claim to know him well," Edith said, noncommital. "The Earl keeps his own counsel."

"But you have been at court longer," Elfrith pressed, always looking for a morsel of gossip to "Has he favored anyone before?"

She took a breath, her heart hammering in her chest. "No, not that I recall." What use is a favor? Lies and pretty words were all he ever gave me. And the touch of a hand on a cheek, the press of a body -

The comment sent the girls into giggles, Aelfwynn pressing the little animal to her chest and looking pleased. "The Earl of Wessex! What a match!"

"You would do better to keep that to yourself," Edith said quickly, a pain burning in her chest. "You are the queen's servant before your own. She will have an opinion - on your match and on the Earl's." She rose from her seat, setting aside her mending. "I should go see the kitchen - the Queen has guests tonight and will expect a fine table."

She was only a few steps into the hallway when someone spoke. "Does the Lady Edith also need a carving from the market?"

Edith snorted, ashamed that she could be found wanting such a little thing. It wasn't much like Agnarr to make jokes, as far as she was aware - but the king's chief advisor, it seemed, was a man of hidden depths. "I hope I'm not a girl who needs to be bribed with trinkets."

The burly Viking gave a brief nod. "You are a woman who knows her worth. And he is a fool not to see it."

He would know - of course he knew. He and Emma were close now, since his return with Forkbeard, and she would have told him what Godwin had done to turn Aelfgifu. "The Queen now has what she required. I am but her servant." The only fool here is me, for thinking a man like that could love me - or love anything, except power.

"I hope she knows what you do for her, Lady Edith."

Edith nodded and went on her way, her chest and jaw still tight. She may not - I'm no longer sure myself.

[mercurygray]

From the fantasy/medieval prompt list you most recently reblogged, could i request some Edith/Godwin goodness (unsurprisingly lol) for ❛ may i have this dance? ❜ pretty pwease? spicy or no spice, whatever you feel like!

She wasn't looking for attention.

Edith was hardly paying any mind to the feast when she heard the Queen say her name, calling for some favor or another. But she did not reply quickly enough, and Emma was looking at her with mild annoyance when their eyes finally met over the table.

"Earl Godwin, Lady Edith has been distracted of late," Emma announced, her eyes fixed on her friend. "Perhaps you can cheer her."

Godwin smiled his assent, rising from his chair and moving opposite Edith, his smile casual as anything while Elfrith and Aelfwynn giggled behind their hands. "May I have this dance, Lady Edith?"

She couldn't well deny Emma, not when this was practically an order. "You may."

The dance was a simple one, with the dancers moving in partners, and the two of them took the first position to wait for the musicians to begin. "You are angry with me," Godwin observed, quietly, once they were out of earshot of the queen's table. "That your affections are not being returned and I've chosen another."

"After doing what we have done, is it any wonder that I question anything concerning your affections?"

Godwin chuckled. "Question what you like. My position is improved, and I am a man of an age to be wed. And Aelfwynn is sweet."

"Aelfwynn is young and new to court and her head is easily turned," Edith corrected, her voice sharp.

"Your head was easily turned, too, it seems."

Edith would have hit him, if she thought she could get away with it, but the eyes of the whole court were on them and the last thing she wanted was a scene. "The turning of my head was a matter of expedience. I lied so much after that I started to believe the lies. And I know you, Godwin Wulfnothson, down to your bones. I know that you never desired a sweet girl in your life. You want power, and whatever it takes to get it."

"There she is, men," Godwin replied, laughter in every word. "Edith the Blessed. A viperish shrew, hanging on her queen's skirts. Is it any wonder she remains unwed, with a tongue like that?"

"I think you liked my tongue, my lord," Edith accused with a sneer. "You had good enough use of it." Can you say the same of Aelfwynn? There's some devilry at work here, and I swear on my father's grave I'll find it out.

Godwin laughed, and they finished the rest of the dance in silence, separating when the music stopped so Godwin could escort her back to her place and pay some pretty compliment to Aelfwynn as he returned to his seat.

Edith could only seethe, watching Aelfwynn enjoy his smiles. Love me or not, it matters little. But you will not hurt my queen, or else I'll hurt you back.

[mercurygray]

same lil anon as before, i'm glad you haven't given up on them! i was wondering where they would land in the second season so it'll be interesting to see what you make of it :) and i'll definitely pop in on thursdays 👀

Introduction to Edith

three witnesses - Edith tells Godwin she saw Canute and Emma's wedding to look at me and think of conquest - Edith and Godwin discuss the plan to trick Aelfgifu a bird he meant to tame - Aelfgifu catches them in the corridor honest - Godwin discusses his feelings

Gonna think out loud a little bit here, Kind Anonymous Friend!

In the first series of drabbles, Godwin and Edith pretend to be lovers so that Edith can be a plausible source of inside information about Emma to feed to Aelfgifu. Edith wants to protect Emma - Godwin wants to help remove Aelfgifu so Canute will remain in his debt. These two don't initially like each other, but having to play at being in love means that over time they do eventually fall for each other. Both are from formerly disgraced noble houses, but while Godwin can parley that into positions of power, Edith still has very little she can count as hers - hardly a selling point for the always ambitious Godwin.

When Sven returns, he takes Aelfgifu away to Kattegat, leaving Emma to rule England in Canute's name alone, with the help of (still suspiciously helpful) Godwin.

This is where season 2 begins. HERE BE SPOILERS.

Godwin, in this short interval, has acquired a lover - one of Emma's ladies, Aelfwynn. Emma is always shown attended by two women, the other of whom is Gytha, Canute's niece, whom we met last season. We first see these women at mass, during which an eagle-eyed Godwin spots that the monk assisting with the eucharist has poisoned the bread meant for Emma. He saves the day, stopping the ceremony, pursing the man through town and later interrogating him, to no avail.

We later learn (or piece together) that Godwin engineered the assassination attempt - the monk was Aelfwynn's brother, and Godwin seduced Aelfwynn so he could later pin the suspicions around the plot on her. Emma, in her fervent desire to get to the truth, tortures the woman to death. Godwin, meanwhile, can now use the mask of a grieving lover and staunch supporter to guilt Canute into giving him the far greater prize of Gytha, putting him one step closer to the throne. (An argument can also be made that this is strategic on Canute's part.) Gytha, having listened to Aelfwynn's constant praise of Godwin, already loves him - but Emma's worked out what's going on and gives Gytha a ring from one of the other conspirators as a subtle warning to Godwin to watch his step.

So what to do with Edith? (The events of the second season are funny to me personally because the idea for Edith came from the second unnamed lady in waiting in Season 1 - and lo and behold, here is Godwin in Season 2 with her, albeit under a different name and wildly different circumstances. Several people messaged me about this. It was highly entertaining. )

As I mentioned, some time has elapsed between seasons 1 and 2, and Godwin needs time to get the wheels of his nefarious plan into motion. It doesn't seem outside his bounds to drop Edith in favor of a (younger? prettier?) Aelfwynn, and say (truthfully or no) that they had was always for pretend, and never meant anything. Edith is back where she started - hating Godwin, this time for abandoning her, and fiercely protective of Emma.

Agnarr is one of Emma's closest allies this season, so I could see Edith having a strong friendship with him. As Canute's closest lieutenant, Agnarr is predisposed to already be suspicious of Godwin, and this Edith business wouldn't help. I wonder if she'd pursue a new romantic entanglement, or leave that alone while still nursing her broken heart. She doesn't like Aelfwynn, for obvious reasons, but Aelfwynn, being new to court, probably doesn't know much about Edith's backstory with Godwin. Emma, of course, is as surprised as anyone to learn Edith is no longer in Godwin's favor.

That's all I've got, friend!

[mercurygray]

☆ and ❤️ for Edith and the headcanon meme.

☆ - happy headcanon

Edith and Emma have spa nights where they sit in front of the fire and apply cosmetics and beauty creams. They've been doing this since they were teenagers and Emma first came to court from Normandy.

♥ - family headcanon

Edith's father betrayed King Aethelraed a long time ago, and Edith has spent most of her adult life at court as a royal ward and hostage. In theory, marrying her should be a way to gaining her father's lands, but those were never extensive.

[mercurygray]

Barbie OC: Edith

Edith Eadig: Part of the larger Court of King Canute set, including Queen Emma and Gytha. Edith comes with a long-sleeved dark silk gown trimmed with embroidery, a circlet, necklace, and strongbox containing several documents. Queen Emma comes with gold-threaded court gown, crown, throne, and ring. Gytha comes with gray court gown, bouquet of flowers, and Viking drop spindle. Save the back of the box for a full-color castle interior background!

(Godwin and King Canute sold separately.)

[ askbox meme: if your original character came packaged as a barbie…]

[mercurygray]

tbh the potential for angst between Edith and Godwin as a result of Godwin's scheming in season 2 is 👌🏻🤌🏻 chef's kiss and i also really enjoyed your lil Peaky Blinders AU (only ever got to season 3 myself but still, wonderful show), Mr Saxon-West truly embodies all the Godwin energy 👀

Would like to give the biggest shout out to Kind Anonymous Friend here for being a one-user Edith hype train. Seriously, you have no idea how much this has meant to me over the last week. I am giving you a gold star and a huge warm hug. And if you want to chat more, my DMs are open! I promise I don't bite!

[mercurygray]

I Hope you keep writing for Edith and Godwin because these two won’t leave me the fuck alone now thanks 🧡

Aw, thanks, Kind Anonymous Friend! I *hope* to keep writing for them - the new season has sent me an interesting (but not entirely unexpected) curveball, and I need to sit with it for a bit while I figure out where Edith might have landed. (She doesn't like Aelfwynn, for starters...)

If you're new here, I sometimes open up my inbox for writing prompts on Thursdays!

[mercurygray]

Thirsty Thursday prompt! “You need to go” for Edith, pretty please? 💕

Friend, this is VERY thirsty. And uses another prompt from you from a while ago - "For the “please” prompts: “please don’t tell anyone” for Edith?"

She hates how desperate she is.

Canute is home from Denmark, and his lady wife is very anxious to welcome him home properly, which means that Edith has been banished to the outer chamber to make an attempt at mending a shirt while the royal couple has their reunion.

The royal bedchamber has not been quite so noisy for a long while.

And Edith is aware, in a way she has also not been for a long time, how cold her chair is in the outer chamber, and how lonely her sewing. She never envied Emma Athelraed - but she does envy her Canute. He is, somehow, a man of infinite tenderness, a welcome respite after Athelraed's cold hands and stares.

The other man she's thinking of is hardly tender, either.

His room feels like a fortress, or a counting house - banded chests and plain furniture. No fire in the grate, but a brazier for the clerk's hands, watery half-light from the window. "My lord, I'd speak with you."

There must be something in her eyes, because Godwin sends his clerk away and bars the door. No sooner is it locked then she shoves him against it, her lips insistant to have their time on his. His hands find her arms, surprised by this sudden intrusion, hardly knowing what to do. But she doesn't want his honeyed words, or his plans - she wants him, the lover he's played at being for the sake of the old Queen. "Don't make a sound."

His smile is pleased and cunning. What, my lady comes to me? And she is all too pleased to try and wipe it off his face. He nearly groans when she rucks up his tunic and takes him in her hand, but she stops, reminding him of her rule, and he presses his lips together and nods for her to continue, closing his eyes when she begins again on his cock. To have a pulsing, living thing in her hand, and his breath in her ear -

She stops before she makes him come, and makes her fingers gentle, stroking his erection like the living thing it is.

"Well?" He asks, his voice ragged. "Are we done speaking?"

"Not half," she hisses back, and his smile looks like it could kill her.

His bed is unkempt, but she doesn't care - it's not like him to have had a woman in his private chamber. It is too much work to untie the laces of her dress and he opts, instead, to push the fabric up around her hips, open her legs, and go straight in.

He is so much that she breaks her own rule and cries out, and he stops, leaning in towards her.

"Make all the noise you like."

Is it an invitation? A threat? But she doesn't want to wait and find out - he can split her in two for it, for all she cares, and so she lets them out, all the pants and groans she's held back for weeks on end when they were playing at being a secret, waiting to be found.

She is so desperate for this that it's just him that gives her release, quicker than she'd like, closing her eyes as he spills inside her. And for a moment, they are what they only pretended. (She doesn't want to see his face, to see if he is pleased by this or not.)

The weight of his body leaves her, and his hands rearrange her skirt, and she opens her eyes again.

He offers her a napkin from the table so she can clean between her legs - a bath would be better, but there's hardly time for that. "You need to go." See - no tender lovers here. "I'm sure someone's expecting you."

She turns around at the door, the lock cold in her hand. "Don't tell anyone."

Godwin's smile is wide and wicked, his shirt still undone, tunic and belt in his hands. "Who would believe me?"

A prick on her finger brings her back to the outer chamber - the sewing still on her lap. The bedroom is quiet now - and there is a wetness between her legs and a buzzing, like her womb is now a hive of bees. Edith takes a breath and tries to steady herself, smoke down the hive. Peace. We cannot have him. There's no honey sweet enough for that.