This show is a wild ride through 9th-century England when Vikings were causing chaos. It follows Uhtred, a Saxon warrior who grows up with Vikings. He faces a tough choice between his roots and his new life. Expect epic fights, sneaky politics and characters with depth. It is a gripping look at a major time in British history.

Meet the characters from The Last Kingdom

Uhtred

Uhtred is the sort of hero that makes you want to stand up and shout at the TV — irreverent, brutal, and impossibly stubborn in that best way. He’s a warrior through and through but has this soft, ridiculous spot for old heirlooms and the occasional sweet bun (yes he eats buns, don’t ask). Forever torn between Saxon duty and Danish blood, he somehow manages to bumble his way into brilliant plans and disaster in equal measure. Loud, loyal, petulant, charismatic — basically chaos with a sword, and you love him for it.

Aelswith

Aelswith is all sharp corners and sermon-voiced disapproval, the queen who means every stern word and then goes home and fusses over tiny things like the symmetry of curtains. She hates pagan ways like it’s a personal vendetta, and yet — and this is weird — she’ll secretly write letters or press herbs, like a stern church-lady with a secret gardening hobby. Controlling, devout, and politically ruthless when she needs to be, but she genuinely believes she’s saving souls, which makes her scary rather than cartoon-villainy. Honestly she’s a walking contradiction: cold public face, private soft spots (don’t tell anyone).

Sihtric

Sihtric is the slippery, grin-first kind of guy who feels like he’s always got a trick in his sleeve and a poem in his pocket — charming and dangerous, in that order. He loves risk, fast horses, and apparently good rhyme schemes? He can flip loyalties like a coin but usually ends up where his stomach and ambition both point, which is oddly consistent. Sharp, lithe, unpredictable, and somehow endearing even when you know you should be furious at him.

Aethelflaed

Aethelflaed is quietly magnificent — calm, clever, and terrifyingly competent; she could rule your heart then your lands without breaking a sweat. She balances warmth and iron in a way that makes you trust her instantly, and she’s strategic to the point of being poetically precise (also possibly owns too many embroidered cloaks, the details!). A natural leader who thinks like a general and cares like a mother, which is a combo you can’t help but admire. She’s measured but fierce — the sort of person who plans three steps ahead and bakes bread while doing it.

Brida

Brida is wild hair, sharper edges, a storm bottled into one person — pagan to the bone, furious, and heartbreakingly loyal in her own terrible way. She swings between tenderness and outright savagery like someone changing dresses, which keeps you on your toes (and slightly terrified). There’s this raw honesty about her that feels almost refreshing — and also kind of dangerous — she’ll sing you a lullaby and then plan an ambush, no shame. She’s combustible, emotional, unfiltered, and honestly unforgettable.

Finan

Finan is the rugged little dagger of a man who somehow juggles dark humor with surprising empathy; he’s sharp-tongued but the first to bandage a wound. He loves a good fight, a better story, and apparently has a culinary talent for stews (or he pretends to, I can’t remember, maybe both). Loyal to the bone and delightfully practical, he keeps morale up with one-liners and terrible impressions, and then stabs an enemy when necessary — multi-talented, really. He’s brave, warm, and secretly sentimental about odd things like sea shells or old boots.

Beocca

Beocca is the soft-spoken backbone — priest, mentor, gossip source, emotional support rolled into a man wearing a cassock and a very tired smile. He’s full of moral wrestlings and good intentions and will loudly worry about your soul while quietly slipping you an extra loaf at night. Kind, politically aware in a weary way, and wise without being preachy, he’s the grounding presence who somehow knows everyone’s business and forgives most of it. He’s practical but idealistic, which makes him the sort of person you want in your corner when things go sideways.

Aldhelm

Aldhelm is the clipboard-wielding, ink-stained sort of monk who’s got one eye on scripture and the other on whatever power is boiling in the monastery — pious with hints of ambition. He’s solemn and sometimes a little too fond of the letter of the law, but there’s an odd, almost shy appreciation for beauty (calligraphy or a tidy shelf, who knows?). He can be officious and awkward in social moments but surprisingly sharp in political ones, like a librarian who occasionally throws sharp looks. He’s complex in a paper-rolled kind of way — part humble scribe, part schemer (but, you know, in a soft voice).

Osferth

Osferth is the quiet, brooding type who hits you with a single perfect line and then vanishes into the shadows — serious, sharp, and quietly honorable. He’s stoic but with moments of dry humor and odd tenderness (will occasionally pet a dog, or brood over a chess move, or both). There’s a restless intelligence about him; he fights hard, thinks harder, and sometimes surprises everyone with a strange little joke. He’s a bit mysterious, fiercely loyal, and the kind of person who keeps his feelings in a locked chest but still somehow saves the day.

Alfred

Alfred is the brain and the burden of a kingdom all rolled into one small, intensely introspective man — obsessed with law, learning, and making a dream of order out of chaos. He’s pious, meticulous, and brilliant in strategy, but also prone to terrifying bursts of conviction that make you sit very up straight. There’s this mix of frailty and iron will — fragile health and iron principles — plus an odd hobbyist’s love of books and possibly parsnip stew (maybe don’t ask why he’s so into parsnips). Commanding, visionary, a little tragic, and utterly unforgettable.