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Uhtred thought she was a goddess when first he woke. He had not seen such beauty for what seemed a lifetime. The morning light that set the dew sparkling seemed to cast a halo round her head. Father Beocca had taught him of angels and demons when he was a child, though he had never believed in either until now.

Then at last he recognized her—a woman, his woman, loving and loyal and far too good for the lot in life she had chosen. She tended his injuries with the care of a lover, resurrecting a version of himself he’d thought was long gone. A near divine touch would be required to heal the wounds that had torn deeper than the lashes on his back. But the quiet strength she exuded was solid ground for him to rest, finally safe from the storm.

When she returned his sword to him, a smile finally crossed his face. He had used to joke with her that her name meant battle in the old language, and she’d always replied with tongue as sharp as any weapon that he ought to remember her namesake for his own good. Of course it was she who reminded him the war within himself could be won.

As the old Uhtred emerged from the husk he’d been hiding in, Hild caught a glimpse of what may have bloomed in some other life if she’d let herself ask questions she’d been afraid to have answered. Despite the doubt and the worry that plagued her, his touch, his laugh, brought her back to earth and to herself. He may be bruised and broken, waging an eternal battle within himself and without, but she could not deny he was her angel too.

For @tsukkinami tlktober challenge: Hild, angel, light, alluring.