#The last kingdom

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Only you

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: so you filthy heathens - you all voted for the sihtric x wife!reader pwp - so here it is. I had it already half written for my fictober before life got nasty and threw me out of tracks. In my mind it's S3 Sihtric and wife having missed each other after a long time apart but you can imagine him however you want as there are actually no direct references to any time period and no plot either just pure smut. Sorry, not sorry.

Warnings: pure SMUT 18+

Word Count: 2,6K

Summary: plot? never heard of it. Sihtric and wife!reader just can't get enough of each other, breeding kink to some extent, pwp

Please remember that comments and reblogs are two things that make writers smile and keep us motivated.

Sihtric runs his hands from your ass up to your bare hips, squeezing them. His large, calloused palms grip your hips with a bruising intensity, his tattooed fingers digging deep into your flesh, leaving red marks in their wake as he guides your movements. His eyes are glazed, pupils blown wide as his ragged breaths escape him—he’s completely consumed by the sight of you, as though nothing in this world could ever be enough to quench his hunger. He loves to watch you riding him.

With your palms pressed against the solid plane of his chest, you bounce rhythmically on his cock, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through his body. Your hair falls in wild strands across your face, half-lidded eyes glazed with desire, lips parted with breathless moans as your breasts bounce before his eyes. 

You are so beautiful. Sometimes he still can’t really fathom that you are his. His wife, his woman, his anchor in the chaos, his everything. The pleasure you are giving him right now is beyond anything he could ever express. He moans loudly. “Yes, baby… just like that,” he groans, his voice rough and strained with pleasure. 

You lean forward, bracing yourself against his shoulders, your lips finding the tender curve of his neck. You suck lightly on his skin, drawing a shudder from him that makes his hands falter for a moment.

“Sihtric,” you murmur, the sound of it sending a thrill down his spine. His response is immediate—his hips buck upward, driving him deeper into you, and the gasp that escapes your mouth has him smirking faintly through the haze of pleasure.

“You feel so good,” he growls, his eyes locking onto yours. There’s fire in them, a hunger that only you can sate. “So perfect. Mine.”

The words send a rush of heat through you, and you can only nod, too lost in the sensations to form coherent words.

His thoughts are a blur, his mind consumed entirely by you. In this moment, nothing else exists—no worries, no duties, no other needs. There is only you, riding him with the ferocity of a valkyrie, stealing the air from his lungs and wrenching broken moans from his lips.

“By Freya, you’re driving me mad,” he growls, his voice rough and frayed, heavy with the strain of holding himself together as your walls clench tightly around him, drawing him in deeper with every roll of your hips.

His mismatched eyes trail downward, fixating on the place where your bodies are joined. He watches how you move on top of him, the rhythmic sway of your hips, the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as you take him in over and over again, your arousal coating his length – the sight alone threatens to unravel him. 

“Gods…” he rasps, his breath hitching, the hunger in his gaze unrestrained. “Keep going,” he murmurs hoarsely, his eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to watch your every movement. “You’re perfect—so perfect.”

The feeling of your tight walls squeezing around his cock draws another ragged moan from his throat, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. You feel like you were made for him, your body crafted to take him, to hold him, to pull him deeper into your molten heat.

He’s close—so agonisingly close—but he fights against the urge. For months, every lonely night away from you had been a torment. Following Uhtred from battle to battle, he had fallen asleep with your image burned behind his closed eyes, your name a silent prayer on his lips, his hand seeking a pale imitation of the release only you could give.

And now, with you finally here, your body wrapped so tightly around him, he aches to make this moment last forever. He wants to memorise every gasp, every shiver, every whispered moan, and draw them out until the stars fade and the sun rises. 

A loud whimper escapes your lips as his hands slide from your hips, trailing upward with deliberate slowness. His palms are rough, calloused from swinging his war axe, but the way they cup your breasts feels so gentle. His fingers tease over your sensitive skin, brushing against the hardened peaks before pinching gently, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and another gasp spills from your lips.

Sihtric’s one hand keeps cupping your breast while the other tangles in your hair, drawing your face to his. His lips crash against yours, the kiss wild and heated, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he can’t get enough of you.

You smile through your lust. Your mingled moans and gasps of pleasure fill the room, rising with every shared breath. You can feel he’s close—the hitch in his breathing, the way his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. His control is slipping, his restraint unravelling, and it sends a thrill coursing through you.

Sihtric’s hands slide down to your hips, his grip firm, almost desperate, as he guides you up and down his thick, throbbing length. “By the gods,” he groans, his voice deep and rough with want. “You’re so beautiful… so warm and tight around me. You feel—so good.”

His praise sends a shiver down your spine, and your body responds instinctively, your movements quickening, matching the rhythm he sets. You bite down on your bottom lip, the pleasure almost too much to bear, each drag of his cock inside you drawing out soft, breathless whines that make his eyes darken with desire.

You pick up your pace, hips slamming down against his, taking him deeper, stretching yourself around him. You’ve missed him—missed his touch, his presence, the way his body completes yours. Every dark, lonely night you spent chasing fleeting highs, imagining his hands on your skin, feeling the ache of your empty womb, longing for him to fill you, to claim you fully.

You lean forward, hands gripping harshly at Sihtric’s shoulders as your lips brush against the shell of his ear. You lick teasingly at the lobe, coaxing a low groan from him. You keep moving, savouring the feeling of your husband’s thick cock sliding in and out of you, splitting you open like only he can. You dig your nails into his shoulders, “Give it to me,” you hiss between clenched teeth, your breath hot against his ear. “I want every drop. Fill me up.”

Sihtric’s eyes roll back, your words a trigger that unleashes something primal, untamed inside him. With a guttural groan, his grip tightens on your hips, his hands trembling with raw need as he holds you in place and begins pounding up into your aching cunt from below with a fierce, unstoppable rhythm. 

Your mind spins with the sinful pleasure, his cock hitting that swollen, sensitive spot inside you again and again, each thrust more demanding than the last. Your core clenches around him, your body teetering on the edge, the pleasure too intense, too consuming. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your teeth and lips leaving marks on his sensitive flesh as your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder the harder and faster your husband fucks you.

You cry out, your voice ragged, as the overwhelming heat courses through you, your body surrendering completely to the climax ripping through you. Your muscles tense, thighs quivering as waves of pleasure crash over you, relentless and consuming. But you don’t stop—your hips continue their rhythm, meeting his every thrust, determined to draw every last ounce of his pleasure, to claim everything he has to give.

Your walls flutter and tighten around Sihtric’s cock, silently begging him to fill you, pulling him deeper and deeper. “Sihtric, please,” you whisper. “Give it to me,” you beg.

Your plea shatters whatever restraint he has left. His cock twitches inside you, and with a hoarse groan, he thrusts up into you, his release surging in hot, endless waves. He spills deep within you, his seed filling you in long, heated spurts that seem to last forever. His breathless moans blend with your own as he empties himself completely, his body trembling beneath yours.

Panting, you collapse against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you tightly against this chest.

“Gods, I love you,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble, his lips brushing against your hair. “My wife, my goddess,” he groans. “You can’t even imagine how much I’ve missed you.”

A tired but contented smile tugs at your lips. Threading your fingers through his damp hair, you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.” Your voice is low, a tender echo of his confession. But mischief flickers in your eyes as you add, “And don’t think we’re done, Sihtric Kjartansson. Mark my words, you’re not leaving this bed until you’ve put a pup in me.”

His body stills beneath you, your words sinking in like a spark igniting dry tinder. His breath catches, and then, with a low, dangerous growl, he shifts. In one smooth motion, he rolls you onto your back, his strong frame towering over you, every inch of him radiating purpose. His lips crash against yours, the kiss searing and demanding, rekindling the fire in your veins.

“Then we won’t stop,” he whispers against your lips, his voice a gravelly promise that sends a shiver racing down your spine. “Not until you’re mine in every way.”

His hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers slipping through the wet, heated mess of his release mingled with your own. He teases you with a skillful touch, stroking and circling until your body arches against him, trembling with renewed need. You moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders as his touch brings you closer and closer to the brink once more.

“I’ll fill you again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, his voice low and commanding. “Again and again, until you can’t take it anymore. Until you cry tears of pleasure and beg me to stop.”

His hips shift, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing, testing. His mismatched eyes burn into yours, as he continues, “Until you’re carrying my child. Until there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you’re mine.”

Your breath catches as he pushes into you once more, slow and deliberate, savouring the way your body stretches to take him. You clutch at him, helpless under the spell of his touch. 

His movements are languid, tender, but there's an underlying urgency in the way his eyes never leave yours, as if he's memorising every gasp, every flutter of your lashes, every soft whimper that escapes your lips.

"Sihtric," you breathe, your hands grasping at him, pulling him closer. "Don't stop."

He doesn't. He moves with purpose, his thrusts deep and steady, his lips tracing a path down your neck, across your collarbone, marking you as his own with every press of his mouth against your skin. His hands roam your body, worshipping every inch, every curve, until you're nothing more than a whimpering, gasping mess beneath him.

Sihtric fastens his pace, his hips snapping against yours. “Tell me how much you missed me?” he demands. 

“More than anything,” you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper, words trembling as his relentless pace robs you of breath. “I dreamed of you every night, Sihtric. I ached for you.”

“And there was nobody else?” the question slips his lips almost unintentionally, and he regrets it the very same moment. His movements falter, his forehead pressing against yours as a shadow crosses his expression. He wants to take it back, but he can’t. It’s out there. It lingers in the air, heavy with the weight of his fears. Is he enough for you?

All those sleepless nights on the road, lying awake on cold, hard ground, the stars above offering no comfort, the ache in his chest had been constant, gnawing at him with every mile that stretched between you, imagining you sitting by the fire alone, your beautiful face lit by the flickering flames, but your eyes filled with sadness. 

There were moments when he couldn't stop his mind from whispering cruel things. What if she’s had enough of waiting? What if she finds someone else—someone who’s there, who can hold her every night and promise her a life he could only dream of giving?

You cup his face in your trembling hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “No one else,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “It’s always been you, Sihtric. Only you.”

His voice trembles, words spilling out in a rush, breath hitching. “I was afraid you’d wake up one day and realise I'm not the man you needed. That you’d stop loving me because I wasn’t here for you, because I wasn’t enough.”

You shake your head. “Sihtric,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the tears welling in your eyes. “You’ve always been enough for me. More than enough. Every night I waited, every tear I cried, every time I missed you—it wasn’t because I wanted someone else. It was because I wanted you. Only you.”

Your words drive him wild. A guttural growl escapes his lips as his hands grip your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, until it feels like there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. His lips crash against yours again and again, devouring your moans, his kisses searing and desperate, as though he’s trying to pour all of his longing, all of his love and gratitude into you.

“You don’t know what that means to me,” he murmurs. “You... you’re everything to me,” he rasps against your lips, his breath hot, his mismatched eyes blazing with raw need. “I want you to remember this, always. How much I’ve missed you, how much I need you.”

“Show me, Sihtric,” you whisper back, your voice fading into soft moans of pleasure. “Show me how much.”

And he does. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word speaks of his love, his devotion, his desperation to be enough for you. 

You shudder beneath him, your hands clawing at his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles with every forceful thrust. His name falls from your lips again and again, a mantra, a prayer, as he drives you closer to the edge. His touch is everywhere—his hands gripping, caressing; his lips trailing down your neck, sucking and biting gently to leave his mark; his body pressing into yours with unrelenting force.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, the words vibrating against your skin. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you manage to choke out. “Always, Sihtric. Only yours.”

The sound he makes is primal, filled with satisfaction and something deeper—something possessive, protective, and utterly devoted. His movements grow erratic, the rhythm faltering as he loses himself in you, his hands clutching at you as though letting go would shatter him.

“Come for me,” he growls, his voice rough, his gaze locked on yours as he drives into you. “Let me feel you.”

Sihtric’s words are your undoing, the command tipping you over the edge. You cry out his name as pleasure crashes through you, your body trembling, clenching around him as waves of ecstasy wash over you. 

His own release follows, his body shuddering above you as he spills into you once more with a low, broken moan, burying himself as deep as he can.

Sihtric collapses near you, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. For a while, the two of you lay there, tangled in each other. Your breaths are heavy and mingled, your bodies still thrumming with the echo of your highs.

Finally, Sihtric lifts his head, his lips curving into a lazy, satisfied grin as he gazes down at you. "I think I could get used to this," he says, his voice soft but teasing.

You laugh, breathless and exhausted, but utterly content. "Good," you reply, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Because you're not going anywhere."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand splayed possessively across your belly. "Not until I've given you everything I've promised."

[misfitbimbosblog]

Anyway I’ll say it again.

[rebeccawangart]

Aelswith (2024) | The Last Kingdom

This is a graphite pencil drawing of Aelswith from The Last Kingdom, based off of a composite of multiple images. It was drawn on 9x12 inch (23 x 30 cm) heavyweight cold-press watercolor paper.

[lord-aldhelm]

Man, Aldhelm sure is stuffing his face here... what're you eating there, buddy?

What are you...

WHAT....?

ARE YOU EATING YOUR FINGERS???

...

I think the stress of serving Aethelred has gotten to you, there, my man. (cue Aldhelm chewing on his fingers like a toddler)

Either that or Alfred's food is just THAT BAD.

[errruvande]

I'm sorry but

He'll never not be roasted 😭😭

And Finan being over protective to the point he's a bit rude? ��� Please????

Frustration

Finan x fem!reader

Hi! I got this idea last night and thought to write, to ease the wait for the next Finnick's chapter.

Hope you'll like it, let me know❤️

Summary: The Reader can't stand when Finan opposes himself to her involvement in the group's plans.

Warnings: mention of bleeding, mention of sexual assault.

I can feel a headache growing in my skull, Uhtred and Finan have been fighting for far too long now.

I take a big gulp of ale and stand to join them and put an end to it. I get in between them, separating them.

"Would you please stop, now?" I demand, i turn to Finan, "I am going. End of story."

"No you're not." He insists and I deeply sigh, more frustrated then before.

"They don't know her! She can blend in better than us." Uhtred almost shouts out of frustration.

"He's right, Finan, it's the only way we can find out about their plans." Sihtric chimes in, supporting our plan.

"She can't." Finan insists, "no way."

"I can't?" I ask, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"You've not trained enough. It's too dangerous." Finan insists, hard expression on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"She's more prepared than me." Osferth supports us too.

"That doesn't say a lot..." Sihtric mutters.

"She's more than prepared, Finan." Uhtred declares, "she's going."

"End. Of. Story." I add, walking away, ignoring Finan's furious eyes.

I don't understand him, Finan never talks to me, never cared before tonight, and now he acts all mad about me going into the enemy's camp.

I file off my sword, ignoring whoever came in with me.

"I didn't want to ask in front of them, but.." Uhtred's voice is close, "are you sure you want to do it?"

Want... not can, at least he believes in my skills.

"I'm sure, lord." I look him in the eyes, "I'm sure."

"That's what I wanted to hear." He smiles, "all set?"

"Yes, lord." I nod vigorously.

"Let's send you off then!" He cheerfully pats my shoulder, then hugs me.

I say goodbye to everyone as I walk towards the camp. I feel a particularly angry stare piercing my skull as I walk off, but I decide to ignore it.

--------------

Well, that didn't go as planned.

I hold my bleeding arm as I hide from the Danes chasing me. I need to take the longer route to get back to my camp, so I can lose them.

I take a deep breath once I see in the distance Uhtred's camp, one last effort and I'll be safe.

"She's back!" I hear Osferth voice calling the others.

Once I arrive at the camp everyone else is already gathered there to greet me.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Sihtric exclaims.

"They didn't find out I work with Uhtred, if that's what you're wondering." I groan as I sit, Osferth is already kneeling beside me to check on my arm.

"Then what happened?" Uhtred asks, alarmed.

"Nothing particular." I answer.

"What?" The familiar hard tone of Finan is present.

"Nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing." He insists.

"Am I about to die, Osferth?" I innocently ask the monk.

"Uh... n-no... it just needs stitches..." Osferth hesitantly answer.

"See?" I tilt my head, pointing at Osferth, "it's nothing."

"Y/n..." Uhtred sighs, "what happened?"

"One of the men wanted to 'have fun' with me as he said it." I explain, "I dared to say no."

"What?!" Finan exclaims, but recollects himself immediately.

"But I got the information you needed." I turn to Uhtred.

"I don't care about that now." He says, "are you okay?"

"I'm saying I'm fine. It was nothing." I insist, "they keep the hostages in a chariot, sort of, not many and-"

"You need to rest." Finan interrupts me, earning a glare from me.

"I said I'm fucking fine." I snap at him.

"He's right." Osferth agrees with his friend, "you did lose a great amount of blood apparently. Stay warm and I'll get you something to eat."

"I..."

"Do as he says, you'll tell us later." Uhtred orders. I groans out, but accept the blanket Sihtric brings me.

"Told you." Finan mutters to me and walks off before I could tell him something.

I groan in frustration and just sit there warming myself as I wait for Osferth.

--------------

I ate and they finally let me share all the information I gathered. Now we just need a plan to rescue the hostages.

As we plan I keep sensing Finan's eyes on me, and everytime I look up he stares, furious at me.

"Can I ask what's your problem?" I interrupt Uhtred.

Everyone looks at me confused then move their attention to Finan as well.

"Finan, she's coming too, I don't want a repetition of what happened the other day." Uhtred states.

"You saw what happened." Finan insists.

"I got back with information." I state the obvious.

"You got injured!"

"It was merely a scratch!"

"You're staying here!"

"I am not!" I shouts, "I'm part of this just as you are. I am coming. I am capable, I'm not a fucking child!"

I stand and walk away.

"Y/n..!" Uhtred calls.

"No. Call me when he decides to treat me with respect." I turn around and walk off, away from them. Away from Finan.

--------------

I enjoy the solitude, looking up at the sky when I hear footsteps coming closer.

"I told you my condition, Uhtred." I say.

"Not Uhtred." Finan's voice catches me off guard, I turn to look at him, he looks tired.

"What do you want?" I ask, turning away.

"I... I guess I wanted to apologise." He says softly.

"You guess?" I scoff, "more like Uhtred forced you."

"No... he just sent me off to think, and I cane to the conclusion that I owe you an apology." He sit beside me.

"Okay..."

"So... I'm sorry." He says softly.

"For...?" I urge.

"For looking out for you too much." He says.

"What?" I ask, confused, I stand up looking down at him, "looking out for me? Are you serious?"

He stands up too, and now he's the one looking down at me, since he's taller.

"Yes.."

"You thought that treating me like a child, was looking out for me?" I ask, frustrated.

"I was..."

"Shut up." I say walking away again, but stop when he grabs my wrist and turns me back to him.

"Talk to me." He almost pleads.

"Talk to you?!" I widen my eyes, "you're the one that doesn't talk to me... you don't talk to me, you ignore me, you treat me like a child, you treat me like I'm useless and incapable of helping... like I'm not part of this group and you ask me to talk to you?"

"I've never... I didn't mean it." He tries to explain.

"Then why? What did you mean?" I ask him. He just stares at me, so I insist, "so? Are you going to say so-"

His lips on mine cuts me off.

I'm stunned for not even a second before I kiss him back. Once his hands are on my body I can't think of anything else, but him.

I move my hands to his face, caressing his beard to pull him even closer.

Eventually we both need air and we pull away just enough to breath, but not too far.

"I'm sorry for treating you like a child." He breaths heavily as he apologies.

"What?" I ask, the kiss got too into my head I completely forgot what was going on, he chuckles and caresses my hips, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry, my love." He repeats.

"It's.. it's okay." I say, still catching my breath.

"It's not, I shouldn't have treated you like that." He looks at me in the eyes, "I think the world of you, you're the best with the knives and you're definitely part of this group." He leave a quick peck on my lips, "I was afraid. And when you got back bleeding... I couldn't see anything else."

"Thank you." I say, stroking his cheek with my thumb, "just don't treat me like that ever again."

"I won't." He kisses me again, "I promise you." Another kiss, "fuck, I promise you."

He keeps kissing me and I chuckle at his eagerness.

"Okay... mmh.. okay, Finan." I say between his kisses, "contain yourself."

"Oh you're asking the impossible here, my sweet." He keeps kissing me, moving slightly down my neck.

"We still need a plan to rescue those hostages." I say and he stops with a sigh.

"You're right... as always." He nods.

"But I mean..." I start and his face lightens up, "once they're safe..."

"Yes?" He urges.

"Well... we'll see." I wink.

"Don't play with me, woman." He jokingly warns me.

"Or what?" I tease.

He smirks and wraps his arms around my waist pulling me completely against his body, he put a hand on my cheeks and just kisses me more deeply than before.

"I'm glad tou made up, but we have hostages to safe, c'mon!" Uhtred's voice startles us making us pull away.

"Coming, lord!" Finan calls, then he turns to me with a stupid smile on his face.

He pulls away and takes my hand leading me back to the camp.

Before he lets me go he pulls me to him once more to whisper into my ear.

"Once they're all safe, I'll take care of you myself, love." He says and walks to stand with Uhred, not before giving my ass a small smack.

I look at him shaking my head and then I sit next to Sihtric, who looks at me with a knowing smirk, I slightly shove him before our attention is back on Uhtred explaining the plan to us.

And this time, Finan doesn't have anything to say about my involvement.

[warriorabbesshild]

Kneeling before her makeshift altar, Hild closes her eyes, her hands clasped in front of her. What started as the recitation of prayers shifted into reflection, the events of the previous night and earlier conversation replaying in her mind.

That she had hurt Finan with her honesty left her confused. After all, is it not as important to be truthful with a partner as it is with God? She sighed and brought her thumb and forefinger to her forehead, pinching against the tension there.

Have I ruined this before it even started?

Hild wasn't even sure what to do now. Finan was obviously still hurt, and it was too soon for her to confess to something she was still unsure of. Had he not said he would be patient last night? This morning, he had seemed anything but.

She wants to seek him out, to try to set things right... to start fresh. But what if it only deepens the rift already there?

Sighing with frustration, Hild rises and turns to the door, her cloak over her arm. If she finds Finan before she reaches the oak tree, that will be her answer. If not... she will just have to wait until he seeks her out.

@thedarkprinceofulaid @askuhtredragnarson @mrsarnasdelicious

[errruvande]

Sometimes it is so hard for me to sympathize with Uhtred he is so stupid and hotheaded

[ms-oswald]

homesick | chapter two

author's note: aaaand chapter two is here! another long one (sorry, not sorry lol). 18+ MDNI. Sending all my love to @persephones-journey, thank yoou for being my second pair of eyes! ❤️ banner credit to @arcielee 💜 Lots of love & stay safe 💕

     “Kára?”

The roughness of battle suddenly vanished, the sight of an old friend gracing relief into his muscles. 

“If it isn’t my favorite Irishman.” A grin stretched into her cheeks, light steps pushing her to him as he got up from his seat and met her halfway, the alehouse rowdy and curious as eyes peered over to them. 

“Who is the woman?” The youngest of Uhtred’s men, a gentle monk, leaned closer to his friends as he whispered while his view remained on the couple.  

“She is one of Ragnar’s men.” Uhtred had taken the lead on answering, his own blue hues set on them. “A seafarer.” A slight smirk had crossed the side of his lips as well, a sense of contentment at seeing his closest friend ease a little; Finan had reached out for her, gingerly holding her hand with their fingertips timidly tied together as they laid above the ground. 

She noticed a tired look in his eyes; she placed her other hand to his cheek, stroking his skin tenderly before pulling him away and out of the alehouse.  

A few feet away, settling in a calmer air, he looked back at her. Though his heart swelled to her presence, he remained curious – and partly hopeful. “What are you doing here?” 

“Are you not happy to see me?” She teased, bumping his shoulder and catching a glimpse of his chuckle. She proceeded, her lighter tone softening. “I heard about what happened with the brothers... I came to see if you had survived.” 

He sighed, a grim look flashing across his irises; even in the dim light around them, she could see something was not right. There was anger, fear, grief – exhaustion. He wore them heavy on his shoulders and her heart broke. 

“How long are ya here for?” He had taken the smallest of steps, head down as he held her hand again, suddenly needy for her touch. It had been some years since they last saw each other – since she had left after helping Ragnar defeat Kjartan. He had mourned her departure once, and knew it were to happen again as she was a fleeting form, a nomadic essence that was never meant to be rooted into the ground, her breath wedded to the sea.  

And so, his inquiry would need to become an iterant quest for their time to come.  

She placed her hand to his cheek. “I can stay for a couple of nights, leave the day after tomorrow...” She softly replied, worry etched onto the creases above her brows.  

He leaned into her touch, kissing the heel of her palm as he exhaled a faint smile of gratitude.  

She then pulled him out of his thoughts, her fingers playfully rubbing at his shaven scalp while taunting him with an exaggerated disapproving look. “What am I supposed to grab onto now?” 

A low laughter rippled from beneath his chest, an easy beam glowing under moonlight.  

He leaned towards her, whispering teasingly into her ear. “I don’t remember ya having any issues last time. I still have your nail marks on my back, Love.” 

She bit her inner cheek, attempting to hide her blush, and slapped him on his chest playfully. “I guess you will have to refresh my memory.” 

A chuckle rumbled the back of his throat as he kissed her cheek, reaching the corner of her lips.  

He broke the embrace, locking eyes with her while she tiptoed around the arm ring he wore on his right side, her fingertips grazing gently over the piece of jewelry before they slithered down to his wrist and hand.  

“Does Ragnar know you are here?”  

She smirked. “Jealous now?” She bit her bottom lip, her head tilted sideways as faint mirth reached the green specks in her eyes. “As far as I know, he doesn’t.” She took a closer step, the tip of her boots touching his own, and lifted herself on her toes, hovering over his breath. “Like I said, I was just passing through to see you.” She eyed him intently, adding jest into her words. “It would have been devastating losing out on such a good friend.” She tapped his chest to her last words, and lingered. 

He grabbed the hand that rested on him as he spoke. “A friend or a hump?”  

She extended her play, pretending to think seriously over her answer as she pursed her lips. It earned her another of his infamous smirk, the creases to his cheeks welcomed.  

She sobered up, nodding curtly. “Both.” 

Another vibration across his lungs, a gentle chortle escaped him as he shook his head. “It’s really good to see you.”  

“And darling, it is good to be seen!” She took his hand and tugged him her way. “Now lead me to your home. I am exhausted and need a bed!” 

“Alright, alright.” The crinkle to his cheeks remained with his grin unwavering to her presence. He pulled her the opposite way, the couple scurrying away from the lights and from the dwindling drunken people as he led her to his place. 

It was a quaint home, comfortable enough to house one person.  

She walked around, glancing to every corner of the open space, taking in the sight while he stayed behind to lock his door. 

He then turned and silently watched her, trying to catch her in the dim light peering through his windows.  

A mind of its own, his body moved forward, his feet marching towards her until he stood behind her. She sensed him and smiled as his arms slid around her stomach, pulling her firmly against his chest.  

She closed her eyes and fell into his embrace, the tip of his nose stroking her temple into her hair as he inhaled; the faint scent of salty waters sent shivers down his spine, the bittersweet aroma curling into the pit of his stomach as he tightened his hold around her. He trailed down behind her ear and her neck, taking in her presence by way of his other senses, un-relying on his sight as his shut hues stayed in the dark.  

Her breathing steadily grew heavier to the feel of his caress traipsing down her stomach. He quietly reached the laces of her trousers, swiftly undoing them before his fingers slipped underneath the fabric. 

She sighed, her head falling backward against his shoulder. She then tilted to the right, hugging his arm with her teeth grazing the muscles; her mouth was slightly parted in pleasure, the dexterous fingers toying with her wantonly. 

“I missed ya...” He breathed, air fanning over her blushing cheek. “I missed having ya around.” 

She tried to regain her composure, her hazels catching the shy glimmer of the moonlight onto the floor. 

She huffed a smile, a lopsided curve etched into a smirk. “As a friend, or a hump?” She called back, playing.  

He took a moment, following into her footstep as he teased her; a slight pressure to his grasp, he heard the faintest of whimper before answering, the cheeky grin smug behind her. 

“Both.” 

The skin of his teeth scratched her earlobe, an overlay to his ministrations as he listened to her soft panting, her chest heaving from the growing warmth underneath her breastbone. 

She cursed under her breath, a strained giggle shaking her tongue at his answer before calling out for him. 

“Finan...”  

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, sweetly kissing the column of her neck. 

“We’re in the dark...” 

She attempted once again to gain control of herself, desperately wanting to focus on her thoughts.  

He did not relent, purposely continuing with his diligent work. “I know.” 

A faint titter tickled his ear. “Do you not want to look at me, is that it? Have I grown hideous since last we saw each other?” She patted his cheek, signaling him to stop. He breathed out as she turned in his arms, rolling her eyes in amusement at his inflated disappointing gaze. “We’ll have all night for some fun.”  

She parted from his embrace with her arms stretched behind her back, a coy glimmer sparkling in her hues. “Come on, get a fire started – give me some heat, and when you are done, I’ll be ready and completely bare, waiting for you in your bed.”   

He let a soft groan out and yanked her back into his arms before catching her lips into his own, granting himself a firm kiss – a tale for more, before once again pulling away. 

He turned to his hearth while she moved to his bed and started to undress herself until she reached her shift. She left it on as she took a seat on the bed, waiting for Finan to join her. 

Once he finished tending to his task, he turned to Kára and found her waiting for him. 

“I thought you said ya’d be naked?” He bit his lip into a lopsided smirk, eyeing the way the thin material of her shirt proudly displayed her cleavage down to the way she had crossed her legs, purposely hiding herself away from him. 

He swallowed the sudden saliva coating his inner cheeks, mouthwatering at the sight, body thrumming at the thought of what awaited him. 

She stood up, hands behind her back as she glanced downwards at herself before lifting her head to him, a bold glimmer settling across her features, her silent invitation. “How about instead, I give you the joy of ripping this off of me. Have you work for it.” 

“So thoughtful of ya.” He followed her pace, tagging along as he closed in the distance, teasing with a hand to his chest at pretend gratification. “I really appreciate it.” 

He took one more step as she extended her hand towards him, grasping his shirt. He chased the motion and pulled her in his arms before tipping her way, ghosting his lips over hers until they firmly pressed. 

He then cupped her cheeks, holding her gently as he deepened the caress. The strokes were gentle – sickeningly sweet to a roaming eye, as she sunk into the way the ale was coating his tongue; she had felt it heavy in the warmth of his breath, and how the taste lingered – bittersweet. 

She let him hold on to her as she reached for the layers of clothes that covered him still; they only parted for the second she removed his shirt, the item thrown carelessly onto the ground before her arms rested back around his shoulders, searching for the delectable kiss in candlelight.  

Catering to both their needs for closeness, he swiftly lifted her up, her legs encircling his waist as he moved them closer to his bed. 

He lingered at the edge, simply standing as she held on for dear life, her nails softly digging into his jaw and cheeks.  

Without letting her go, he eventually took his seat and settled her on his lap. He let himself fall within the warmth of her embrace, to the way she wrapped around him, seeking air from his lungs as he searched for peace. An urgent need rummaged into his chest, a shovel digging for anything but death and war – a lost treasure. 

She felt a tightened hold about her waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of her shift; an unsettled feeling stroked beneath her breastbone as she pulled away, silently catching her breath.  

“What’s wrong?” An affectionate touch spread across his cheeks as worry raised into the softened streams of her hazels.  

“Nothing.” He breathed out, locking his gaze onto hers. 

She pulled back and saw the lie trembling within the depth of his hues; they were at a standstill as she observed him. 

He had tried to look away, a sudden shyness creeping up in the pit of his stomach but she stopped him, fingertips to his beard as she tilted forward and gently brushed her nose to his.  

She gifted him a tender kiss and whispered closely, catching the glimmer of the hearth in his brown eyes.  

“Finan... Let me take care of you.” 

He could only stare at her, her words slowly settling within his teared down mind. He couldn’t muster a response, his only source of communication the careful gestures he bestowed upon her form.   

She slowly pushed him to lie down and hovered above him while still holding onto each other’s sight.  

She took a moment, her nails lightly grazing at his beard. She wore a simple smile, a small pull from the corner of her lips as she lowered herself towards him. Another kiss across the pink of his skin, he kept her unmoving as he caught her with his arms around her body, hands slipping down her back. She teased him, faintly rolling her hips and earned a muffled grunt from the back of his throat; she repeated the movement once again, the pressure tightening between her thighs.  

She then hid her face in his neck, keeping up with her pampered touch as she found the ties of his pants.  

Feeling the slip of her hand between their bodies, he helped her undress him by kicking off his boots and pulling down his trousers. She was slowly slithering down, mouth to skin as she trailed pecks down his chest. She discarded his last piece of clothing, finding herself at the edge of his bed.  

He waited for the mattress to dip again, his eyes to the ceiling before he leaned on his elbows and watched her stare back at him. She was biting down her inner lip and took a moment as she reached for her shift, removing it and baring herself in front of him as he was. 

He sat up, drawn forward by his own enthrallment, his breath stuck within the confines of his lungs. 

He stretched his arm, grabbing her fingertips and tugged her his way until she stood between his legs. She looked down at the way his beard scratched her stomach as he pressed soft kisses to her flesh. She bit down her bottom lip, hands holding the back of his head while feeling his own trailing down her back to her cheeks and thighs. 

He inhaled deeply, the subtle scent coating her skin sweetly intoxicating him, lulling him further into distraction. 

She caught his attention as she slowly pulled away from his squeeze. He raised his head to her, his gaze shadowing her movement as she lowered herself to the ground.   

A shaky breath escaped his parted mouth, titillated by the way she presented herself to him; her palms rubbed against his thighs as she kneeled before him, her chin upwards. He glanced down at the swell of her breasts before meeting her eyes, enraptured by the honeyed glow of her irises, the darken room inexistent under her colors.  

His stare was unbendable as he intently watched her with a dry throat. 

A violent groan rasped passed his lips, his head tilted back as he gripped his sheets. He cursed, his lungs tied to the weight in his chest, with her name slipping in a strained echo within the walls of his rooms. 

She anchored herself with her nails carved into his hips, the ploy performed by her tongue seducing gluttonous breath out of his slacked jaw, his whimpered string of profanities – a sweet melody to her ears. 

Enraptured by the way she suctioned her cheeks, keeping him wet and warm, he grabbed her curls, forcing dishevelment amongst her braids as he tensed, his head falling back in pure pleasure. 

He was tied down by her chords, sinful vibrations passing through her swollen lips as her own carnal ache thrummed between her thighs. She became a prayer intertwined into his marrow, her name smothered under tantalizing heat. 

She sought his pleasure continuously, unrelenting as every twist and twirl of her tongue, the sliver of graze from her teeth, earned her grunted blasphemies from his mouth, hisses and hitched exhales into the thick air around them. 

Ignoring the simmering bruises to her knees, she felt him tense, his grip tightening as he looked down, his hues struck by her wanton teasing; he let go, submerged under ecstasy as a hefty exhalation rapidly escaped his lungs. 

He fell back onto the bed, catching his breath while running a hand down his flushed face. 

He felt her slip away and shifted his gaze to her climbing back onto the mattress, finding her seat as she straddled his lap. She kept her eyes on him, cleaning the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. He sat back up, arms snaked around her waist while closely watching the way she licked her lips, a silent swallow gracing her ears.  

He quickly claimed her reddened flesh, latching on lustfully. She felt him twitch underneath her, the taste of himself across her tongue igniting his desire anew. 

He engulfed her breath, holding hostage every drop of her taste for his own, a primal need that burned within his very core and kept her slightly lightheaded while still grounding her to his strokes. 

His hands slithered to her back, pushing her firmly with her breasts in heated friction against his chest; a muffled moan slipped away from her, the contact enticing as it burrowed into the pit of her stomach, forcing a clench between her legs. 

She barely broke away from him as she slid her right arm down his stomach to their joint hips. A light gasp fanned across her swollen lips as he felt her gently stroke him while she leaned on her bruised knees, high enough to graze herself against him. 

Mouth ajar, a strained moan fumbled at the back of her throat, the teasing touch causing shivers to violently scrape her bare skin. The thicker the pressure at her hips, her head instinctively fell back, 

She glanced down to catch him staring at her just as she slowly sunk onto him, the thickening pressure increasing at her hips and causing a twist in her voice as she called for him, cursing his name unabashedly.  

He stilled, taking in the way unadulterated pleasure etched beautifully across her features, flushed and whimpering. His heartbeat deafening him to the sound of his own exhales, his body trembled under such weight, lechery at its finest in this night. 

She settled back onto his lap, her bruised joints finding comfort resting on the sheets.  

Hitched breath tickled his lips, warmth spread across a she took a moment of enjoyment, the feel to be back in his arms this way maddening.  

He searched for her lips, capturing them then as she timidly tilted her hips. She listened to his panting, the stuttered groan grasping at his throat while he pressed her further against him, every piece of her fitting within him.  

They took their time, the thrusts gentle as stolen kisses and rough skin strokes were in precedence; she needed his attention, to bask in thrill amidst the tragedy hanging above him, puppet strings cutting into his flesh.  

She knew he was keeping it together for appearances – from the moment she greeted him this night, she could see a darken shadow suffocating him, drowning in eyes, his posture, his shoulders. The fury, grief and exhaustion were simple friends as they held hands. 

The desire to digress from such gloomy depth and lure him into her arms, lovers delight seeping through careful gestures and sound; it was the soft call of his name, the gentle ‘Look at me’ from her lips to his, to the breathless ‘Touch me' as she guided his hands along her form, the heat in his palms raising her skin from her breasts down her waist, and down her back.  

He continued of his own accord, carving her flesh into his creases, pleasure thriving beneath his fingertips. 

She held his gaze in fervent strength, a lustre of vulnerability crossing over their bare flesh. They latched onto one another, the ombre swirling between her brightened hazel to his darker hue; they were unrelenting, stubborn – a sliver of obsession, a shadow of possession, rooted into their frantic embrace, the tied threads simmering, humming to every thrust, every crescent, every drip sliding down limb to limb. 

She slowly felt overpowered under the weight of his stare, her body trembling – resonating against his touch. Her pace quickened, the friction between their hips ceaseless, delectable. And she was cursing sweet nothings between their lips, the letters of his name sculpted into her chords, a lust-filled melody haunting his ears.  

Overwhelmed, her head dropped backwards, her chest following as she anchored herself to him, her left arm grasping his shoulder while the other fell to his leg. 

She stayed in his view, watching as she submerged under their pooling pleasure, seeking the rushed waves as adrenaline pumped through her veins.  

He tightened his hold on her and swiftly pivoted, landing her on her back as he hovered over her.  

She gasped, taken aback as he took over without interruption, the strokes consuming and hips rutting in greed. 

He pressed his forehead to hers, warm breaths mingling in heavy steps as his hands wandered – a must – until their fingers interlaced. Comfort waved through, her surreal presence settling into his reality the way a breath of fresh air seeks lungs for nestling. 

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her – the sound of her voice singing into his ears, the softness of her skin rubbing lovingly against his calloused tone, the depth of her gaze always searching for his even under the cover of darkness.  

He caught her lips, stealing kisses every chance he got as he still held her underneath him, hips bruising – yearning.  

He was pursuing her shadow, despair clawing at him knowing she was a temporary presence; his muscles tensed as his mind dragged him back to their separated time. The sudden restlessness that was roaming in the pit of his stomach crept back ever so slowly, every moan rolling down her tongue a knock into reality. 

She had become an unexpected presence in his life, an unintentional friend – an emblem to the freedom he had been given. She was entwined into the cracks of him, pulling him together into a state of perpetual hope, solace, forthcoming by her reappearances. 

He savored the thrusts, the appetite euphoric with her clinging to him as if afraid to let go – the thought of parting from him, of losing his warmth as he filled her lasciviously left her delirious over the nights she had ached for him, over the years and oceans that separated them. 

Her muffled moan snaked across his tongue, inciting a groan as he deepened their kiss, the brushes languid as his hand rested on her throat, thumb to chin as to tilt to the angle he wanted. He then trailed down her neck, swollen lips tender against her skin while the trim of his beard scratched her carelessly.  

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while she tightened her legs around his hips, falling into an utter state of bliss. He felt her body quiver as her nails dug into his waist – shivers ran down his spine, his pace faltering until he slowed down and lingered, taking his time, relishing in the sweet ecstasy coating them longingly.  

He lied on top of her, hiding in her neck while her breath lingered by his ear, her thighs lazily resting by his hips, caving under pressure, and her fingers grazing his back soothingly. 

She inclined her head his way, closing her eyes for the moment as to enjoy the simplicity of their position – the way the weight of his body fit with ease over her own. She felt the press of his lips atop the glistened layer of her skin, a tender gesture he trailed along her shoulder. 

Reaching the end, he pulled away and slowly slid to her left while she pulled the disheveled sheets and fur around them, the fire still bright as it heated his room. She then shifted in her seat as she stretched her legs, wanting to nestle closely to him. She laid on her back, his arm around her with her left elbow lazily bent, her fingertips feathers above him. 

Finan could feel the heaviness on his shoulders partially drifting away, a faint sense of ease covering him; it was the pant heaving from her chest that soothed him, her presence an everlasting solace. He mindlessly played with her hair, fingers lumpish within the entangled locks while caressing her head. 

He was staring at his ceiling, lost in thought while his exhales steadied, the rush of adrenaline dissipating into the beads of sweat across his bare flesh. 

He felt her slip her fingers through his, silently searching for his hand to hold. He let her, his right arm following the movement as she brought his knuckles to her lips. He smiled, squeezing his hold on her and tilted slightly, his nose stroking her hair before kissing her sweetly. 

She moved again, gently enough to press herself further to his waist. He set a soft breath out, a burgeoning need to never let her go settling into his core – despite knowing it was futile. 

“Where are ya headed next?” The gruffness in his voice pulled her back to reality, his question a slight tug at her heart. 

She sighed quietly, her gaze unfocused. “Irland... I owe my father a visit.” She started tracing patterns over his chest, pensive. “Have you ever thought of going back? 

The silence was cut short, the minute dropping as he took his time to answer. 

“I haven’t really... I don’t think I’ll ever see it again.” 

She frowned and shifted to lean on her elbow, her eyes finding his. “Why not? It’s your home, is it not?” Genuine curiosity prickling at her brow.  

He was caressing her arm, his right still placed around her as he moved his own left to rest behind his head. “Not anymore... Coccham is my home now.” 

She took on the dramatics, an exaggerated groan shaking her tongue. “Ugh, but Irland is so much better!” She coaxed a smile out of him, her playful whining earning a soft laughter. He patted her arm and turned away, his hues facing the top of his home once again, the grin fading. 

“There are days where I wonder about it, but... not enough to want to go back.” She listened, watching the somber expression heavy on his features. He tilted his eyes back to her once again. “There is nothing left there for me anymore. I was a warrior until I wasn’t.” 

She lingered across the faint anguish coloring the depth of his browns; she could sense he wanted to change the subject, the dismissive tone laced in his lilt giving her a nudge. 

A weak bite into her inner lip, he moved to stroke her cheek, sweeping strands away to rest behind her ear. She slid closer to him, hovering above and leaned down to share the tender kiss – a moment of peace passing through them, her questioning of his motherland turning to dust.  

“What of ya?” He retraced her lips, his callused thumb enjoying the smoothness of her skin. 

She puckered the muscles, pecking his touch quickly before following with an answer. 

“My family may have settled there after leaving Norway, but Irland is not my home. And Coccham is definitely not it either.”  

He chuckled, his arm falling down as she leaned on her elbow once more. “I have never truly thought of it, really. A home... I just know I never was one for land, and farming and everything in between.” 

Restless, she switched positions again, lying back down as Finan followed, facing her while she took her turn to gaze upwards.  

Her words dug from the underground an inaudible inquiry – an opaque wondering, a glimpse into a scenario that could never be, a drawing settling into his mind for a split of a second. 

“Ya never thought of settling down?” Kára was young, her future ahead of her – the smallest piece of his shadow pondered if she had even thought about such a path. 

“I don’t think it was ever meant for me.” She turned her head to look at him, catching his stare as she responded, a layer of improbability stuck to the back of her throat. “I was born on a ship in the middle of nothing but water... and just maybe that is why I could never settle.” A lopsided grin, ever so timid, rose to her cheek. “Or at least that is what my father says of me – that I am a true seafarer. A true daughter of Njörd.” 

“And what do you say of yourself?” He had moved his arm over her stomach, palm stroking her sweetly, warmth spreading to both bodies. 

She contemplated, taking a moment before meeting him with a mischievous glint in her hazels. 

“That this traveler needs to ride out the sea.” 

He matched her smirk, his lips stretching as he teased. “I can help with that.” 

She played along, expressing disbelief to his proposal. “I don’t think so. Your Irish waters are weak. I need something stronger-” Her tone dropped, seduction rising as it slipped down her tongue, warm breath tickling him. “-robust. Rough.”  

He startled her, earning a squeal as he leaped to hover above her and pinning her arms above her head; a light laughter followed, amused by his sudden change in behavior.  

He lowered closer to her, parting her thighs with his knee as he pressed himself against her breasts, re-awakening temptation into their midst. He trailed one hand down her form, resting it below her hips with his eyes never leaving hers as he took in the way her mouth parted, a hitched breath floating between them. 

She arched her back slightly, a teasing gesture earning a bite from his lips, taunting her. 

“We should prepare ya for a storm then.” 

     He spent the next morning with his head between her thighs, stirred by having woken up with her pressed comfortably against his chest. 

It had followed with a slow roll out of bed, Kára pushing Finan to break his fast while she had remained distant, her own plans in their finishing touches. 

She then walked to the great hall, finding him sitting with Uhtred and Gisela, calmly chatting with their plates and cups slowly emptying. 

She took her place behind her friend and placed her hands on his shoulders as she tilted her head towards Uhtred. 

“I am taking him for the day.” The tone had been set as an order more than it was a request. 

Gisela quietly chuckled, her eyes falling to her husband as he stared back at the newcomer dumbfounded. He then glanced to Finan, the Irishman shrugging his shoulders as he waited for a response.  

Uhtred simply nodded, nudging his head for the young man to go – speechless. 

A satisfied grin on her face, Kára took his hand as he got up, and walked out. As she reached the entrance, she quickly turned back and shouted. 

“Oh, and don’t expect him until sundown!” 

Without letting room for protest, she pivoted and led Finan away, both bodies walking towards the stables. 

“Where are we going?” He was puzzled, curiosity set in his brows as he let her lead the way, his arms tensed from her pull. 

She pivoted her head to him, a teasing smirk cornering her lips. “You’ll see.” 

He found two horses with their saddles on, bags, furs and blankets tied to each of them. He stilled and watched as she continued, quietly greeting them with gentle petting before grasping at their reins and tugging them back his way. 

She handed him his own, a spark of excitement floating across the green of her eyes. “Ready?” An instinctive smile stretched into his cheeks as he nodded. “Ready.” 

Climbing on and riding away, she led the march out of Coccham and into the woods with Finan trailing by her side. 

He had remained quiet for a few minutes, waiting to see if she would reveal the secrecy she was withholding; she noticed the stolen glances from the corner of her eyes and smirked, amused by the way intrigue prickled at the furrow brow atop him. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Ya are kidnapping me.” 

She turned his way, her grin still apparent. “It’s not kidnapping when you will be returning later.” 

He matched her smile and shook his head as he shifted his gaze back to the road ahead of them. “Where are ya bringing me?” 

“You’ll see.” He could hear the mischievous intonation in her words, stretching wider the beam dimpling into his cheeks.  

He glanced back towards her, catching the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “A woman of mysteries.” 

“That is my charm, Irishman.”  

He chuckled at her response and continued the ride, light jests shared between them. 

They eventually then made their stop, Kára halting her horse after the hour had dropped; Finan followed, both bodies climbing down their horses before they continued on foot while still holding onto the reins. 

She took the lead once again, carefully walking through a dampen cave passage, the sound of water echoing all around them.  

To the other side, the area seemed to have been secluded from the rest of the world. The indistinct sound of insects chirping rallied as they hid within the foliage, the trees framing the scenery as they reflected across the serene creek, its rhythmic voice setting the tranquil atmosphere. The mixture of rocks and boulders were comfortable within and around the body of water, the trunks of weeping willows, birch and elms closed in around them, cutting off outside pollution. 

Finan stood breathless as he took in the lush greenery blinding his gaze. 

Kára let him be as she continued down her path, carefully guiding her horse to the willow a few feet away.  

“If ya wanted me by yourself, you could’ve said so.” 

She tied the harness to a low branch before turning to face him, scoffing dramatically. “And be disturbed by Uhtred?” He had approached her close enough, she grasped at the collar of his armor and tugged him her way playfully, a sham of a threat gracing her features. “I’d rather kidnap you.” 

He fell into step, adding theatrics of his own. “So, this is a kidnapping!” He then inclined her way with the tip of his nose grazing hers. “I knew it.” 

She giggled at his antics and let him go, both turning around and undressing their horses as they removed the weight off their backs and placed them by the tree’s roots. She pulled a small bag of apples and dropped it at their feet, the fruits toppling over while Finan handled the blankets and the rest of the baggage.  

She followed with the saddles, placing hers gently on the ground before moving onto the next one; just as she was untying the second seat, Finan grabbed her hand, pivoting her towards him. He placed a hand to her neck, thumb stroking her jawline, and tenderly kissed her lips.  

Without pulling away, he mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ a timid smile gracing her view.  

He reached for her loosened braid, her locks soft under his touch. 

She watched him, attempting to capture a reaction as her heart squeezed. “Does it still bother you?” She still remembered the discomfort he felt the first time they sat close to each other, the day she had tended to his wounds, the breeze forcing him to breathe in the salt in her curls.  

He noticed the quiet distress in her hazels. “It hasn’t been that long.” The faint uncertainty laced into her voice, the distant tremor of fear rooting her to the grass – a slight tug tore at the pit of his stomach. 

He cupped her cheeks, another shared kiss in a try-out for reassurance.  

It wasn’t enough to convince her. 

Despite their physical closeness, a part of her hung onto the fear of being pushed away. 

“You don’t have to hide from me, Finan. You can tell me.” 

“I know. But I promise ya, I am not bothered by it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and clenched her jaw, holding onto the tears glazing the corners of her eyes.  

Finan pulled on the tie keeping her hairdo together and watched as the ends detangled. 

“Ya’ve got the sea air, and so every time I breathe it in, it will remind me of you.” He continued un-doing her braid, the strands flowing freely around her shoulder. “You’ve made it into something that doesn’t frighten me anymore.” 

Her breath hitched, taken aback by his confession. She ignored the heat creeping up to her cheeks, her eyes struck by the way he was gazing at her, tender affection coated within his irises.  

She bit her bottom lip, stifling a smile, and took a step backwards, breaking the embrace.  

They kept their sight on each other, her smile widening as she kept her teeth to her pink skin.  

“Rid of your clothes.” She ordered before she followed, kicking off her boots, removing her weapons and discarding her armor, her own wear falling atop the open blankets.  

He peered closely her way, hues retracing the way she discarded her garments, from the way her trousers had swiftly dropped around her ankles to the way she pulled at the hem of her shirt, passing it over her head and throwing it. 

She took a step towards the water, her back facing him with her hands reaching into her curls, finishing detangling her braids. 

Feeling the heavy gaze, she turned to look at him, finding him leaning against the willow, arms crossed over his chest. She rolled her eyes, her grin dimpling into her burning cheeks. “What?” 

“Nothing.” 

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Liar.” 

She turned back, the hairdo gone and ruffled her roots, fingers scratching her scalp and easing their previous strain. She then dove into the water, disappearing from Finan’s sight for a moment, the quiet settling in for a short minute before she resurfaced. 

He was still eyeing her, stare unwavering as they shadowed her every move – a complete state of limerence. 

She swam around to face him. “Join me!” 

“Is that an order?” He pulled away from the trunk and walked towards the edge of the water, untying his sword belt.  

“I’m afraid it is.” He stared at the way the shivers covered her skin down her exposed breasts. Her arms were afloat, shaping the water by the sides of her body with her hair slick back and freshly damp. “Come on, the waters are freezing without you.” 

He made a quick turnaround, removing his clothes and marching to her until he sunk to the water, continuing his way towards her. 

They held their eyes to each other, her body dipping under the surface down her nose. He kept swimming until the creek reached his waist. Closing the distance separating them, she slowly stood up with her hazels stuck to his own gaze. 

Hand to her cheek, she leaned into his touch as he stroked her skin. “Better?” 

She nodded shamelessly, the corner of her lip caught between her teeth. “Much better.” 

Her fingertips pressed delicately across his pink skin and trailed towards his toned chest and stomach, teasing the downwards motion to his hips.  

She retraced the way his skin raised to her touch, watching as his muscles ticked under the tip of her nails, the tickling soothing to his limbs.  

She kept going, arrowing downwards, eyes up to him. 

He leaned his forehead against hers, mouth slightly parted as he thought of what to say – the flirtatious caress along his form was freeing, calming. 

She was tending to his wounds – a silent promise to care for him, as she had done last night. 

And as tempting as it was, he found himself only wanting to hold her, to indulge in the way her body would melt into his, arms holding her tight, and simply savor her presence. 

He carefully took her wrist, stopping her from slipping past his hips under water. 

“I don’t need... that. I just...” The low tone of his voice made her frown. She searched for his gaze, curious. He breathed out his last words, his shoulders depleting. “I just need you.” 

An ache hid beneath the surface of his browns, an unfamiliar yearning – it was the simple need to be embraced without the shadow of carnal delight hanging above them.  

She was his refuge to the storm that had numbed him, a shelter, a fire keeping the cold at bay.  

She was unencumbered by the loss at Beamfleot, though still understood the woes of war. 

“Alright.” The soft reply slipping from her lips, she shared the smallest of kisses on his cheek as she placed her arms on his shoulders, hands falling into the void behind them.  

They shared an intimate breath, lips – feathers between one another, as they stood still, time halting by their side. 

He held her by the waist, pulling her closer until they were flushed together, hiding in the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes, falling into the feel of him warmly pressing against her cold skin. He continued down her shoulder and trailed backwards until he kissed the spot right under her ear, gooseflesh running amuck. 

The tranquility of their moment soon was interrupted – the horses pulling them out of their reverie, agitated. 

Both turning their attention to the right, Finan instinctively pulled her nearer, acting as her shield as tension crept up across his limbs. 

She eyed the area, glancing between the horses and the rustling sound coming from a few feet across them. Kára wasn’t frightened – had it been intruders, they would have shown themselves by now.  

She shifted her eyes back to Finan, the man still seemingly on edge. “Finan. Look at me.” She forced him to pivot her way, hands to his cheeks as she caught his stare. “We’re safe.”  

The distant bushes continued stirring until a fox slipped through the low branches.  

The horses distanced themselves, slowly calming down just as Finan let out a breath of relief, his shoulders dropping. 

Kára giggled, her head resting on his chest before she pulled away, smacking him with the surface of the creek. 

She flickered water his way once again, pulling his attention away from the shore and back to her as she continued swimming away from his grasp. 

He complied, catching up to her and quickly caught her back in his arms as he blocked her own, her back pressed against him.  

The reverie had settled back in, bringing comfort to the two characters as she digressed reality into her back pocket, stretching the slumber for a few more moments with the laughter and antics simmering beneath the surface. 

     They hid under the shade of the weeping willow, sitting atop the blankets and fur she had brought from the village. 

She laid her back against the trunk while he rested between her legs, head to her stomach with her knee bent over his shoulder, her bare feet enjoying the feel of the grass. 

She ran her fingers through his shaved scalp, nails soothingly scratching random patterns as she tilted back, eyes closed, the warm breeze seeping through the bended branches. 

It was midday and the sun hung high above them, warming bodies and lands as it lulled them into a state of bliss and comfort; the horses were resting, and the fox was asleep a few feet away from the couple, having searched for its own shade under the leaves. 

Clothes were discarded, the use of blankets partially covering them; being the only two people in the world, decency had no pertinence. 

 They were quiet, the comfort of each other’s company enough to soothe any lingering worries away; Finan had slowly fallen into a light state of slumber, enjoying being in her arms. 

Their moment of peace was then halted, a grumble disrupting them. 

A light laughter slipped from her tongue soon after, realizing the origin of the noise. 

“Is that the call for hunger or do we have another animal roaming about?” 

She felt his body shake atop hers, his own mirth laced with her own as he placed his hands to his stomach and tilted his head upwards, attempting to catch a glance of her from the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Did ya bring anything for us to eat? Or is it all for the horses only?” 

A soft giggle graced his ear as she leaned over, her palms sliding down his muscles. “I brought us some bread, nuts and fruits.” She placed her chin on his collarbone. “I couldn’t get away with the meat, so we will need to hunt.” 

He hummed in response while pushing himself to sit upright and then reached for his trousers as she sat on her knees, hugging him once again, her arms wound around his shoulders. “How about I do the heavy lifting and you get started with the fire?” She kissed his cheek then trailed down to his neck as he leaned against her, instinctively smiling and agreeing to her proposal. 

The campfire was bright, its hues in harmony to the sunbeams still bright above them.  

Kára came back with small traps in both her hands, satisfied with her catch as she wore faint smudges of dirt across her face and arms. 

Finan watched as she dangled their feast in front of him, a grin etched across his cheeks, amused by the spark in her steps.  

The meat cooked, the fruits and nuts laid out, the bread fresh and in pieces – their meal were plenty, filling his appetite as the atmosphere dipped into light banter and jest. 

Their little companion had found a seat next to Kára, silently sniffing and waiting to be fed; she obliged, splitting bits and pieces of the last remaining raw rabbit to give to the little one, the furry friend never leaving her side.  

“I think he likes ya.” He stared at his friend’s new pet while nibbling on fruit, teasing laced in his vocals.  

“He’s got good taste.” She turned to Finan, playfully winking while she petted the animal.  

He chuckled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her near as to lay a kiss to her temple before turning back to face the small fire.  

She placed her head on his shoulder, the pet slithering its way to rest between her feet, quietly finishing its lunch. 

She sensed Finan sobering up, his silence suddenly suspenseful.  

“Where did you go?” There was sliver of strain in her voice as she rested her chin on his shoulder, coaxing him to turn her way. She lifted her head, her fingers stroking his beard gently as he looked in her eyes, the glimmer of green shining under the sun.  

He leaned against her, bumping the tip of his nose with hers before stealing a kiss, the humble gesture preparing his response. 

“Nowhere near as interesting as your travels.” 

She huffed a chuckle, noticing the subtle way he pushed for a new line of inquiry. 

And she followed with no hesitation. 

“Where are ya headed after Irland?” 

They held each other’s eyes, a tenderness to the gaze as she caressed his cheek, the back of her knuckles soft against his beard.  

“We’ll sail East… maybe visit the Greeks again, see what new treasures they’ve discovered.” 

A small smile dimpled the left side of his cheek, tone low as he spoke, the spark in her honeyed stream conjuring curiosity. “Tell me more.” 

She shared a quiet laugh, grasping the bottom lip between her teeth. “Where do you want me to start?” 

She met his wishes, leading their talks as she reminisced of her past voyages, the trials and tribulations, the people she’s met to the lands she visited, down to her small crew – a group of seafarers just like herself, who craved the taste of adventure and thrived amongst the seas. 

He listened intently, observing the way her lips curved in excitement, her cheeks dimpling into a brightened smile, to the way the glint in her hazels lured him in, enthralled by her exuberance. She spoke with a light step in her voice, a silent promise she made to herself, to share her discoveries with him, to gift him the pleasures of such a life by her side, to present the wonders right at his feet. 

Her words hung to his ears, thrumming within his core and aching – ambivalence settled beneath his breastbone, a bittersweet taste coating his marrow into a state of admiration; his heart slipping down his sleeve, every tug shadowed her spoken syllables, its pulsation reverence and cowardice. 

An invisible thread pulled him further towards her, enraptured by her presence – an aura exquisite under the timid sun beams. 

“You should see the world…”  

They had moved to lie on the ground, side by side as she had shifted her gaze, looking up while Finan glanced between the open air above him, to his left with his hues taking her in, the glow of the afternoon seeping through the tree leaves. 

She turned her head to him as she spoke, catching his eyes. “This doesn't have to be your life, you know. There are beautiful lands out there that are worth more than this entire country…” She bit her inner lip, teeth digging into the soft tissue in hope. “You should join me, come see it with me.” Her tone softened, serenating as she leaned closer to him. “Let me take you to see the world, Finan.” She turned, pushing her weight to hover above him, her elbow taking the pressure and facing him as she caught the hint of a smile appearing across his lips. “Leave Wessex behind, and come with me. No more battle, no more war, just food and drinks and women until you are blue in the face.” 

He let a chuckle rumble down his tongue, a pensive gaze stitched over his brow as he stared back to foliage above him. 

The moment seemed to have stopped – even though it had been short, it felt to have dragged itself through the mud, a disappointment that had been both forthcoming and yet still heartbreaking. 

She sighed, not withholding her displeasure. “Uhtred it is then…” She sat up, arms wrapped around her bent knees. 

Finan quickly followed her, his shoulder to her blade. “Kára-” 

“It’s alright. I figured as much…” She tilted her head towards him, chin grazing her shift. Her eyes were cast downwards, giving herself a quiet exhale before meeting him, the faint saddened gaze imbued into her greens. “At least you are giving me a reason to come back.” She wore her lopsided smile, crafting an exit to their path. 

“I’m touched.” He kissed her, lips pressed to shoulder, a smirk hiding behind the gesture. 

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop her own grin. 

She then inclined his way, kissing him softly, and lingered before resting her forehead to his. 

He noticed the change in her demeanor, sensing her frown as if in thought. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She pulled away, meeting his gaze once more as she caressed his cheek. “When I didn’t find the brothers in Frankia… I knew something was wrong.” 

He leaned into her touch, in awe. “Ya came back for that?” 

She nodded, her hand patting him playfully. “I needed to make sure ya Irish arse was still breathing.” 

She mimicked his lilt, brewing a chortle from his lungs; she hid away her worry, the mere drop of imagining such loss weighing on her shoulders. 

They had gone the rest of the day with light jest and quips, bringing back the needed distraction into their midst; she pulled him back into the water, having quickly discarded of her shirt before pulling down his trousers and dragging him away from their burned-out campfire. 

The fox had gone and the horses rested still, nibbling at whatever fruit and greens laid at their hooves. 

Only the light laughter – the teasing plays and childish bantering had coated the breeze within this small place, the drops of water from the stream fall, to the music of insects adding layers to their afternoon. 

     He woke up in a frantic state, startled as sweat hugged his skin. 

He was catching his breath, attempting to recuperate as he took a moment to absorb his surrounding; the darkness of the night silently greeted him, the hearth’s embers becoming but decor in this time.  

Sitting up, he rubbed his face and ran his hand across his shortened hair, anxiety crippling under his chest as it pierced through his lungs, palpitations heavy. 

He didn’t feel the bed dipping behind him – it was the soft call of his name that pulled him away from his anguish. 

“Finan?” 

She slipped her arms around his shoulders as she sat up, and felt the slight sweat slipping off his back along the tension in his muscles. “Nightmare?”  

“Mhmm.”  

She pressed her nose against his cheek and wound her arms closer. “You are safe, Finan.” She whispered soothingly as she turned his head her way, catching his tired gaze. “You are well, and you are safe.” 

He leaned back against her, closing his eyes and listening to her words, his breath steadying.  

She helped him shift his focus to her touch, to the warmth spreading from her body with her hand placed on his chest, guiding his lungs as she controlled his exhales. 

He tilted his head further towards her, stealing a soft kiss before breaking away, resting over her brow.  

She stopped speaking and breathed with him, caressing his chest gingerly – lovingly. 

The minute had passed, her own worries draping over her. 

“Finan...” He met her eyes, noting the slight frown she carried. “What happened with the brothers? Why the strain?” 

He hesitated, looking away and in front of him.  

She pulled him back in, finding a seat next to him while taking her hand into his, resting them on her lap, the other stroking his beard. 

The longer he held her gaze, the comfort of her touch – he found a slither of courage reaching the surface; it was slow, but the words slipped out of his tongue, shaking the ground as he counted the events of the battle of Beamfleot, shivers scurrying across his skin. 

To the death of Clapa, Kára teared up, having grown fond of the gentle giant. 

Her heart broke, Finan’s tale and state wrenching anguish into her bones. 

His confession brought her closer, the bewilderment sitting atop him – puzzled by why this battle was tearing him apart. 

“Some are harder than others. Especially when you were close to death...”  

There was a light tremble to her last word. He turned to her, detecting the glimmer in her eyes, the tear drowning her hues. “You almost died. You lost a dear friend- the night in itself... It was a disaster.”  

She took a deep breath, pivoting away from his gaze. She instead moved, resting her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand in hers, a self-reassurance of his presence by her side. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, both of them sitting in silence for the moment that passed. 

“There is nothing but death and war...” 

The sober tone in his voice sent chills down her spine. She felt the break in his heart and carried it as she turned back to him. 

“Penance for being a warrior, I’m afraid.” 

She leaned in, stroked his cheek once more before gently pecking his lips. She then pulled away and silently invited him back to bed, the sheets covering them comfortably. 

He buried his face against her chest, letting her chin rest on his head as her leg wrapped around him, her arms encircling his shoulders – a shield. She raked her fingers against the back of his scalp, her nails soothingly scratching while he breathed in deeply, pushing himself flush against her. 

He found refuge across her collarbone and down her breasts, his lips seeking her bare flesh. He tugged her closer, every empty inch vanishing as limbs molded, a sculpture forming under nightlight. 

She sighed, the weight of his body demulcent as he moved her to lie on her back, sensing an urgent longing in his strokes, his fingers bruising her. 

She cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, eyes meeting in the dark. She shared a small smile – a silent promise of reassurance, before gifting him a gentle kiss. He slowed down, resting his forehead on hers as a shaky breath escaped him, fanning timidly over her parted mouth. She swallowed, capturing his lips with her own and taking the lead in the lingering gesture while he settled between her legs. 

She wanted to give him the distraction he was craving, to create disassociation, to care for the present moment only – to fuck and forget for the few remaining hours they had left. 

To use her and relent all worries – to escape and drown under carnal desires, to lean on a primal need; to cope and pursue the physical pleasure instead. 

He did not let her go, tongue stroking hers while she felt his palms down her waist, raising her skin, until they rested on her thighs and parted them further. He then pulled away, trailing wet kisses down her stomach until he reached her hips. 

She arched her back, her fingers gripping at her pillow above her head as a strained moan vibrated passed her slacked jaw. 

She closed her eyes, ripping at the fabric of the sheets as he consumed her – a glutton. 

He held her down, toying with her pearl while his ears listened to the sighs he coaxed, her chords becoming an exhilarating rush quivering down to his core. He thrived; the distant call of his name, the way she was begging for more, pleading for release. 

She cursed, an annoyed groan slipping out of her, unable to grab onto his hair. Sensing what she was trying to do, her pleasure building in tandem with her frustration, he could only chuckle, the sound shaking beneath her hips. Hearing him, her huff turned into laughter – a small giggle running down her tongue as she made him pull away.  

He caught her eyes and noticed how she quickly glanced at his beard, the taste of her fresh on his tongue. 

She rolled her eyes, bumping her knee playfully against him. “Stop it- Just- Fuck, just come here.”  

The smirk remained across his lips, complying to her demand. He crawled back towards her as she wrapped her arm around him, tugging him near until his breath ghosted over her. She wiped his beard lightly with her fingertips, licking her own lips before she kissed him, taking a lick of herself along her tongue. He groaned, trembling under his chest as she teased him, her calf firm onto his backside – luring him to nestle in the cradle of her hips, begging to be filled, to clench around him as he rutted into her; to have him bury himself inside her, ecstasy aflame, mindless. 

He held onto her – his anchor, reclaiming her body as he gently rolled his hips, thrusting into her with careful movement. 

He hid his face in her neck and deeply inhaled. The infusion of her scent – the hint of rosemary and thyme, the whiff of earthy aroma clashing with the sea salt overflowed his senses. 

His grip of escape, the need for solace grew. He turned desperate the longer he remained between her thighs, pushing passed the anguish that lingered on his shoulders and making his sole purpose on this night to bring his lover to the brim of unadulterated bliss – to have her come undone once again under his touch. 

The room filled with heavy breaths, dirty nothings and the continuous friction of skin to skin – limbs glistening under every dimpled mark of teeth and lips, and fingers, in a drunken haze as haste and frantic, and greed engulfed them. 

Deception waited outside their door, counting down until it was time to part. 

     They stood by the entrance gates of the village, her horse by her side while her small group of men were exiting, ready to embark on their next journey after their short intermission. 

He was holding her hand and gently tugged her in his arms as he spoke. 

“Be safe. I beg ya.”  

The soft pleading laced into his words had faintly pushed at her chest. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, and took a moment before pulling away. 

She stretched her lips into a smirk. “Well, if you are begging...” He shook his head, amused by her cheeky reply. 

She then leaned towards him once again, placing a tender kiss to his cheek as she whispered her promise into his ear – a swift shift to a tender and honest approach. 

“Thank you for staying.” 

“That is what friends are for.” The way her eyes settled across his own, an attempt to reassure him of her presence, the depth she would go to for him – a silent callout for the care she held for him. 

He gave her a nod as a soft huff of a chuckle escaped him, his gaze shifting downwards. He ignored the slight twinge in his heart – her chosen words, a tremble to his core. 

A faint ache buried under her chest as she watched him, her brows furrowed into concern. 

“Are you going to be alright?” 

He could hear it in her voice, the slight anxious inquiry; he dismissed it and gave her a soft smile as his lips stretched into the one side of his cheek. “Aye.” 

One step forward and he pressed his forehead to hers.  

He took a moment, eyes closed and breathed her in, hands to her cheeks as he carefully stroked her skin, the need to touch her, constant. She met him, her palms wrapped around his wrists as he placed his lips to her hairline.  

She then kissed him, tilting her head slightly upwards until she reached him, the tender caress holding them close.  

“Don’t miss me too much, Irishman.” She spoke between their breaths, a hint of mischief slipping across her tongue. 

She noticed a slight spark across the brown of his eyes as a light chuckle tickled her ears; it had looked as if the storm had passed, its heaviness pushed into a distant horizon. 

“I won’t if you don’t.” 

She winked at him, giggling. “I’ll try then.”  

She gave him one last kiss before she climbed onto her horse.  

They bid each other another goodbye as he walked her to the other side of the gates. 

Once they parted, the smile curved across his lips fell slowly until it disappeared, his heart faltering in its step as it tumbled over a lost footing. 

--------

xoxo

taglist: @gemini-mama @iamfandomnerd @ladyinred2248 @gco95 @errruvande

[warriorabbesshild]

Hild hooks his arm with hers, a sudden pang of regret lancing through her.

I should not have been so open with my thoughts. I didn't realize he was so fragile, emotionally. He seems so very strong on the outside, though.

An inaudible sign leaves her as they walk to the manor home together, and before they part, Hild draws Finan close to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Just be patient with me," she whispers. "And I'm sorry for hurting you again."

She watches him turn and walk down the opposite hallway, trying to focus more on the hope than the fear within her.

As the morning sun peeks in through a crease in the tent, Finan slowly opens his eyes, realizing that he has his arm draped around Hild and is holding her impossibly close. The scent of her hair sends a tingling down his arms as he nuzzles his nose into her neck.

This must be a dream.

@warriorabbesshild

[zanephillips]

ALEXANDER DREYMON The Last Kingdom 4.08

[whitedarkmoonflower]

When Shadows Yield to Light

Pairing: Uhtred x Sihtric x Finan

Authors note: this is my birthday gift to the amazing and one-of-a-kind @alexagirlie 🎉 It also happens to be the first m/m fic I’ve ever written—and if it's the first why not dive straight into a poly one, right? 🙈 Oh, I will not lie—I struggled a lot to make this work at the beginning, but then at some point it started to flow and I was in awe at myself 😅 Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you! ❤️

Warnings: SMUT 18+, m/m/m, oral sex, anal sex, subtle hints of past abuse and trauma (read: my daily doses of angst prescribed by doctor, sorry I can't without it)

Word Count: 5,5K

Summary: With his hand hovering over his lord’s door, Sihtric hesitates, gathering his courage to knock, unaware that what awaits him on the other side will change everything he thought he knew about loyalty, desire, and himself.

Please remember that comments and reblogs are two things that make writers smile and keep us motivated.

Sihtric's breath came in ragged bursts as he tried to calm his frantic heartbeat. His hand hovered in the air, poised to knock on the door, but hesitation gripped him. His fist unclenched, and his palm pressed flat against the rough wood instead.

He leaned his forehead against the door, his breathing heavy and uneven. His hand balled into a fist again, ready to knock—but before he could summon the courage, the door creaked open. The unexpected sound made Sihtric flinch.

"Sihtric?" Uhtred's voice was thick with surprise.

"Yes, lord!" The young Dane quickly raised his eyes to meet his lord's questioning gaze, heat rising to his cheeks. His mind raced, scrambling for an excuse, any explanation for why he was standing outside his lord’s chambers in the dead of night.

Uhtred’s hair was loose, cascading over his broad shoulders in thick, windswept waves. Sihtric’s breath hitched as his eyes briefly swept over Uhtred’s bare chest. The firelight from behind cast a warm, flickering glow over his skin, illuminating the scars that marked his body like battle-worn trophies. Clad only in his breeches, Uhtred stood barefoot, his powerful frame filling the doorway.

Sihtric’s heart stammered, not just from the embarrassment of waking his lord but from something deeper—an unspoken reverence for the man who stood before him. He swallowed hard, but as he did, he caught sight of something else—a shadow moving behind Uhtred. Sihtric’s eyes widened in realisation.

Uhtred was not alone.

The thought hit him like a blow to the chest, and another wave of embarrassment surged through him, making his cheeks burn hotter than before. His pulse quickened in shame. 

“I’m sorry,” Sihtric mumbled, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s nothing important. It can wait. I’m sorry…” He took a step back, eager to retreat, to erase his intrusion.

But Uhtred didn’t let him go so easily.

"What is it, Sihtric?" Uhtred arched an eyebrow, his voice calm but carrying a strange edge. “It must have been important enough for you to come here in the middle of the night.”

Sihtric hesitated, torn between the need to speak and the urge to disappear. His hand clenched at his side, and he could feel Uhtred's gaze on him, piercing and unyielding. He stole another glance at Uhtred’s chest, at the way the firelight played across his skin, but the presence of someone hidden in the shadows of the room behind him made him feel increasingly embarrassed and even stupid. His lips parted, but no words came. 

Sihtric had needed all his courage to come here, he didn’t know he would need more of it. He hadn’t even thought of what would come after.

Uhtred watched the young Dane with increasing curiosity. The way his cheeks painted crimson, the way he swallowed hard as his eyes moved back to Uhtred’s bare chest over and over again although he tried to keep them casted down.

“Sihtric,” his voice was commanding and made the young Dane freeze in his tracks. “Come in.”

Sihtric swallowed hard. He hesitated, his feet rooted to the ground as though the floorboards beneath him were quicksand. He felt a lump rise in his throat, but he didn’t dare disobey. Slowly, he stepped forward, his leather boots creaking softly against the wood. Uhtred moved aside, allowing Sihtric to enter the chamber, and the door closed with a quiet thud behind him.

The warmth of the fire enveloped Sihtric, a stark contrast to the cold sweat on his back. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the shadow he had seen earlier. It was then he noticed him. Finan stood, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

Finan’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, though his expression remained guarded. His dark hair was tousled, and his smirk was just visible in the flickering firelight. He tilted his head slightly, a brow arched as he studied Sihtric.

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” Finan drawled, his Irish accent pleasant but teasing. “The pup comes scratchin’ at the door in the middle of the night. What’s wrong, lad? Couldn’t sleep without hearin’ a bedtime story?”

Sihtric’s cheeks burned hot, and he clenched his fists at his sides. The weight of both men’s gazes pressed down on him, making it nearly impossible to form words. He glanced at Uhtred, who stood nearby, arms crossed in silent expectation, then back at Finan.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Sihtric muttered, his voice tight.

“That much is clear,” Finan said with a chuckle, pushing off the wall. He stepped closer, his smirk softening. “So, what’s eatin’ at you, lad? It’s not like you to be skulkin’ around at this hour.”

“Finan,” Uhtred’s voice cut through the air, firm and commanding, halting whatever teasing remark his friend was about to unleash. The flicker of discomfort on Sihtric’s face didn’t escape him—the young Dane looked as if he might combust from sheer embarrassment. Uhtred turned to the table, grabbed a mug, and poured a generous serving of ale.

“Here,” he said, offering it to Sihtric with a calm, steady gaze.

The ale was fresh, its strong flavour filling Sihtric with a surprising warmth that settled his nerves, if only slightly. He drank it quickly, the liquid sliding down his throat in hasty gulps. His eyes, however, betrayed him, flitting between Uhtred and Finan. The sight before him was hard to ignore—two formidable warriors, their muscles shifting under scarred, sun-kissed skin, their powerful frames clad in nothing but breeches. Only then did it strike him as odd. They were both shirtless, their bare feet scuffing softly against the worn wooden floor as they moved.

“I… I didn’t mean to disturb…” Sihtric stammered, his voice faltering under their stares. His wide, darting eyes kept shifting between his lord and Finan.

“That much you’ve already said,” Uhtred smirked, the corner of his lips quirking upward. Sihtric couldn’t help but notice the glint in his lord’s eyes—a strange, intense hunger. It was unsettling and captivating all at once. Uhtred licked his lips as he took a step closer, and Sihtric froze under his gaze.

“I think it’s time to stop playing games,” Uhtred continued, his voice softer now, a low rumble that made Sihtric’s heart race. He tilted his head, two deep pools of piercing blue watching as Sihtric flinched slightly when Uhtred’s hand came to rest on the young Dane’s shoulder.

The air in the room seemed heavier, the flickering fire casting golden light and long, wavering shadows that danced across the walls. Sihtric could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat, his body frozen between fight and flight or maybe something else.

“You’ve been holding back for too long, haven’t you?” Uhtred asked, his voice low, velvety growl that sent a shiver down Sihtric’s spine.

“I—” Sihtric started, but his words failed him. 

“You’re not very good at hiding it, lad,” Finan said from his place near the fire, his tone a teasing drawl, though his voice was softer than usual. “Always sneaking glances, always looking like you’ve got somethin’ to say but never quite sayin’ it. Don’t worry—we’ve been patient.”

Sihtric’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to protest, to deny the words, but the knowing smiles on both their faces silenced him. Uhtred took another step closer, his bare chest inches from Sihtric’s own. The Dane felt as if the floor beneath him might give way entirely.

Uhtred’s hand slid from Sihtric’s shoulder, the touch slow and deliberate, trailing down his arm until his fingers brushed against Sihtric’s wrist. “It’s all right,” Uhtred murmured, his other hand gently tipping Sihtric’s chin upward, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to hide anything from us, Sihtric. Not here.”

“We all know why you’re here, Sihtric,” he murmured, his tone laced with something almost tender as he nodded toward Finan. Sihtric hadn’t even noticed how quietly Finan had closed the distance, until now, as he felt the Irishman’s presence at his back and his palms landing on Sihtric’s waist.

For a brief moment, Sihtric’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat as his body tensed. A shiver ran through him, a flicker of unease clawing its way up his spine. The warmth of Finan’s breath against his neck felt too close, the firm touch of his hands too familiar in a way that made his skin prickle.

They were still there, buried deep in his mind—the dark shadows, reminding him of hands that had been neither kind nor wanted, when touch had come without care, and voices had carried commands laced with cruelty, not warmth. 

Sihtric’s shoulders stiffened, pulse hammering erratically and Finan paused, his movements faltering as he caught the tremor in Sihtric’s frame. Finan’s gaze darted to Uhtred, confusion flashing in his eyes before understanding dawned. Uhtred nodded subtly, his hand remaining firm on Sihtric’s wrist, steadying him. Finan softened instantly, his hands loosening their hold as his fingers brushed gently over Sihtric’s hips in a soothing motion.

“Easy, lad,” Finan murmured, his voice quiet and warm, the teasing edge replaced by soft worry. “You’re safe here. You set the pace. Always.”

Sihtric swallowed hard, his lips parting as if to respond, but his throat felt too tight. The warmth radiating from Uhtred’s body, the intensity of his gaze, and Finan’s steady presence behind him were overwhelming. 

Sihtric’s pulse quickened, each beat thundering in his ears as his thoughts spun wildly, a whirlwind of confusion and anticipation. He felt the brush of Finan’s hand against his back, steady and reassuring, but the heat of it burned through the fabric of his tunic.

The warmth of their bodies, so close to his own, seemed to seep into him, igniting a strange, dizzying heat. He could feel Finan behind him, his breath a soft whisper against Sihtric’s neck, while Uhtred’s hand kept him rooted in place. 

There was no escape—not that Sihtric was entirely certain he wanted one.

Sihtric drew in a shaky breath, the grounding warmth of their touch pulling him back to the present, reminding him this was different—they were different.

Finan stepped closer, his fingers brushing against Sihtric’s shoulder as he leaned in. “You don’t need to say a word,” Finan murmured, his breath warm against Sihtric’s ear. “Not if you don’t want to.”

The words sent a shudder through Sihtric, his breath hitching as a flood of emotions threatened to drown him. A part of him wanted to run, to escape and hide, erasing this moment from his memory. But another part—a part he barely dared to acknowledge—wanted to stay, to see what would happen if he let himself fall into the warmth of their embrace.

Uhtred’s thumb brushed lightly across Sihtric’s jaw, his voice soft yet commanding. “Trust us.”

The simple words unravelled something deep within Sihtric, the last thread of resistance snapping as he exhaled another shaky breath. He nodded, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

“There’s a good lad,” Finan murmured, his voice tinged with pride as he pressed a reassuring hand to Sihtric’s back.

Uhtred leaned in first, his lips brushing against Sihtric’s in a feather-light touch, testing the waters, giving him the chance to pull away. But Sihtric didn’t move; instead, he tilted his head slightly, leaning into the kiss with a tentative eagerness that made Uhtred smile against his mouth.

When Uhtred pulled back, Finan was already there, his hands resting on Sihtric’s shoulders as he turned him gently. “My turn,” Finan said with a grin before capturing Sihtric’s lips in a kiss that was softer, slower, but no less certain.

Sihtric felt himself melting under Finan’s touch, the kiss sending a warmth spiralling through him that he hadn’t expected. Finan’s lips were softer than he imagined, his movements unhurried yet firm, giving Sihtric the space to respond. The room seemed to grow quieter, the crackling of the fire dimming under the sound of their breaths mingling. When Finan finally pulled away, his forehead pressed gently to Sihtric’s, the Irishman’s ever-present grin softened into something more tender.

“See?” Finan murmured, his hands sliding down to rest on Sihtric’s arms. “Nothin’ to be scared of, lad.”

Sihtric blinked at him, his heart pounding so hard he swore they must have heard it. His lips tingled from their kisses, and his cheeks burned hot, but the fear he’d expected to feel wasn’t there. Instead, there was a strange, overwhelming sense of belonging.

Uhtred’s hand on his lower back reminded him of his presence. Sihtric turned to find his lord watching him with the same steady confidence that had drawn him to Uhtred from the very beginning. There was no hesitation, no doubt—only an invitation to take another step forward.

“Do you trust us now?” Uhtred asked, his voice low and coaxing. His thumb brushed against Sihtric’s cheek again, a gesture so gentle it made Sihtric’s breath hitch.

“Yes, lord,” Sihtric whispered, the words leaving his lips without hesitation this time.

“Good,” Uhtred said with a nod, his expression softening further. “Because this isn’t about orders or loyalty. This is about us. You, me, and Finan. And it only happens if you want it to.”

Sihtric swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between the two men. He felt the weight of their sincerity, the way they were giving him space even now to choose. It was almost too much—this kindness, this care—but Sihtric found himself nodding again, this time more firmly.

“I want this,” he said, his voice steadier. “I—I want you. Both of you.”

Finan let out a soft laugh, pulling Sihtric into a one-armed embrace. “That’s the spirit, lad. You’ve made us wait long enough.”

Uhtred chuckled, stepping closer until their bodies nearly touched. His hand slid from Sihtric’s cheek to the back of his neck, his fingers threading through the shorter hair there. “Then there’s no more need for hesitation,” he murmured, leaning in once more.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more certain, and Sihtric found himself responding instinctively. His hands, unsure at first, reached up to rest against Uhtred’s chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. Uhtred hummed approvingly, the sound reverberating against Sihtric’s lips.

Finan, never one to be left out, pressed his lips to the side of Sihtric’s neck, his breath hot against his skin as his hands trailed down Sihtric’s sides. The combination of their touches, their warmth surrounding him, made Sihtric feel as though he was standing at the edge of something vast and uncharted. But for once, he wasn’t afraid to step forward.

Their hands moved with a gentle confidence, working together to free Sihtric from his clothes. Each touch sent sparks skittering across his skin, leaving him breathless. The room felt impossibly warm, every brush of their hands, lips, and bodies drawing him deeper into the haze of sensation. Sihtric’s head spun, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all but unable to resist the way it consumed him.

Finan’s beard tickled pleasantly against his neck as he trailed kisses along the sensitive skin there, each press of his lips followed by a soft nip or a slow, deliberate suck that left Sihtric shivering. His hands gripped at Finan’s shoulders, desperate for something to hold on as his body was set alight.

Uhtred, ever commanding even in this, captured his lips with heated urgency. His tongue swept into Sihtric’s mouth, claiming and exploring with an intensity that made Sihtric moan. The sound was swallowed by Uhtred’s kiss, his fingers threading through Sihtric’s hair to hold him close.

A sharp gasp escaped Sihtric as Finan’s hand slid lower, curling firmly around his cock. The Irishman’s touch was sure, his fingers stroking with a deliberate rhythm that had Sihtric arching into his palm.

“Would you look at that,” Finan chuckled, his voice thick with admiration as he glanced down. His grin was playful but tinged with genuine appreciation. “You’ve been truly gifted, lad.”

Sihtric’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson at Finan’s words, the compliment landing somewhere between embarrassment and pride. His response was a shaky, breathless moan as Finan’s hand moved again, teasing and coaxing more sounds from him.

“Careful, Finan,” Uhtred murmured against Sihtric’s lips, pulling back just enough to speak. His voice was low, teasing but commanding all the same. “Don’t overwhelm him too quickly.”

Finan smirked, his gaze flicking up to meet Uhtred’s. “Overwhelm? This lad’s a warrior, isn’t he? He can take it.”

Sihtric’s lips parted, a soft whimper escaping as the sensations mounted, the combination of Finan’s skilled touch and Uhtred’s intense presence threatening to undo him completely.

Uhtred’s hand drifted down, his fingers brushing over Sihtric’s chest before resting at his hip. “He can take it,” Uhtred agreed with a knowing smile, his eyes locking onto Sihtric’s. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t savour this.”

The slow, deliberate way they worked together to unravel him left Sihtric trembling, his body responding to their every touch. He let himself go, surrendering to the safety of their hands, the warmth of their bodies, and the unspoken promise in their eyes: he was theirs, and they would take care of him.

Sihtric’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he watched his lord sink gracefully to his knees. The sight alone was enough to send a jolt through him—a man as powerful and commanding as Uhtred lowering himself before him, the flicker of a mischievous glint lighting up his intense gaze.

“L-Lord…” Sihtric stammered, his voice shaky, his mind struggling to keep pace with the reality unfolding before him. But before he could form a coherent thought, his words were stolen from him. A raw, unrestrained moan tore from his throat as Uhtred’s lips wrapped around him, warm and firm.

The sensation was incredible. Uhtred’s mouth moved with deliberate purpose, his tongue tracing along Sihtric’s length in a way that made his knees threaten to give in. Sihtric’s hands shot out instinctively, clutching at Uhtred’s broad shoulders, desperate for support as his body betrayed him, buckling under the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

“By the gods…” Sihtric breathed, his head tilting back as he surrendered to the waves of sensation coursing through him, fingers flexing against Uhtred’s skin.

Uhtred glanced up at him, his eyes smouldering with a mixture of amusement and intent. Uhtred’s hands gripped Sihtric’s hips, firm enough to steady him but not restricting, allowing Sihtric to move if he needed to.

Behind him, Finan’s low chuckle rumbled through the air. “Looks like our young Dane’s got himself in good hands,” he teased, his voice dripping with warmth and mischief. Sihtric felt a flush spread across his skin, heat pooling in his cheeks and chest, but there was no time to respond—not with the way Uhtred’s mouth and tongue were drawing another lewd sound from his lips.

“Relax, lad,” Finan murmured, pressing himself flush against Sihtric’s back, his hand settling at the base of Sihtric’s neck, grounding him with a gentle squeeze. “Let yourself enjoy it.”

Sihtric’s breath hitched again, his body trembling as he surrendered fully to the overwhelming current of pleasure coursing through him. Uhtred worked him with practised ease, his lips and tongue driving Sihtric to the brink, unravelling him completely. The young Dane’s hands clutched desperately at Uhtred’s hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as his hips moved involuntarily, seeking more of the bliss Uhtred offered.

Soft, broken moans spilled from Sihtric’s lips, each one more desperate than the last. His head tilted back, resting heavily against Finan’s chest. The Irishman’s arms wrapped around him, holding him steady.

“I’m close,” Sihtric gasped, his voice trembling with a mix of urgency and embarrassment. “Lord, I—I can’t hold back anymore.”

Finan’s chuckle was warm against Sihtric’s ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin and sending another shiver through him. “Then don’t, lad,” Finan murmured, his voice low and coaxing. His lips brushed against Sihtric’s ear as he whispered, “Let go. Cum for your lord.”

Uhtred couldn’t respond, his mouth otherwise occupied, but the muffled hum of his approval vibrated against Sihtric, sending him over the edge. Sihtric cried out, his body tensing as the wave of release crashed over him, leaving him trembling in their arms. Uhtred didn’t pull back, his movements slowing but deliberate, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from Sihtric until the young Dane was spent.

Sihtric slumped bonelessly against Finan, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Uhtred finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked up at Sihtric, a mischievous but satisfied grin tugging at his lips.

“Good lad,” Uhtred smirked, his voice rough with satisfaction. Finan chuckled softly, his fingers brushing tenderly through Sihtric’s damp hair, sending a ripple of warmth down the young Dane’s spine.

“That was only the beginning, boy,” Finan said with a teasing grin. “We’ve got the whole night ahead of us.”

Sihtric’s cheeks flushed a deeper crimson, his chest rising and falling in heavy waves as he struggled to process what had just happened. It all felt impossible, like a dream too vivid to be real. Just moments ago, he had been standing outside Uhtred’s door, his courage faltering with every second that passed. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought this was what awaited him beyond that closed door.

He had grown too accustomed to giving himself away—his body a vessel for others’ pleasure, used to fleeting encounters with little room for his own needs. But this… this was different. Encircled by Uhtred’s steady strength and Finan’s teasing warmth, Sihtric felt a tenderness he hadn’t dared to hope for, a care that cradled him as much as their hands did.

He shuddered, a quiet, almost involuntary movement, as a thought crossed his mind. Is this what being loved feels like?

Finan’s hand gently gripping his wrist brought him back to reality, the Irishman’s steady pull coaxing him toward the bed. The fur-covered surface seemed impossibly soft, a stark contrast to the rugged hands that guided him. Sihtric followed willingly, his steps hesitant but unresisting, the shy smile tugging at his lips betraying the sweet anticipation coursing through his veins.

“Don’t hold back now, lad,” Finan murmured, his voice softer than before, the teasing edge tempered by genuine care. “This night’s for you, too.”

Uhtred was already there, reclining against the plush furs with a confidence that made Sihtric’s pulse quicken. His eyes, warm and steady, met Sihtric’s, silently promising safety and desire in equal measure. Sihtric felt his breath hitch, but he didn’t falter. He let Finan guide him closer, the weight of their attention both overwhelming and comforting.

The bed dipped under their combined weight as Finan joined them, his hand never leaving Sihtric’s wrist, as if he felt how much Sihtric needed that—not to lose the physical contact reassuring him that this was indeed real, anchoring him in presence. Uhtred’s hand reached out, cupping Sihtric’s cheek, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate line along his jaw.

“This is your place,” Uhtred said softly, his voice steady and firm, leaving no room for doubt. “With us.”

Sihtric swallowed hard, his chest tightening with emotion as he nodded. His lips parted to speak, but no words came—none were needed. Instead, he leaned forward, letting himself fall into their embrace once more, the warmth of their bodies and the tenderness of their touches setting him on fire once again.

“Go on, take him. Don’t hold back—our lord loves it a bit rough,” Finan whispered, his voice a low, raspy tease that sent a shiver cascading down Sihtric’s spine. The young Dane hesitated, his eyes drinking in the sight of Uhtred’s naked body sprawled before him, strong and inviting, yet somehow vulnerable in his surrender.

“And if you want,” Finan murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of Sihtric’s ear, “I’ll do the same for you.” The words, paired with the subtle press of Finan’s cock against him, made Sihtric’s own twitch with a desperate need that left him gasping.

His body was a storm of sensations, his cock throbbing and leaking from all the affection Uhtred and Finan had lavished upon him. It felt as if no part of him had been left untouched, every inch of his skin kissed, claimed, and adored. Their passion had unravelled him completely, stripping him of any fear or doubt. Sihtric had given back all he could—his lips and hands exploring every scar and curve, his mouth yielding eagerly, letting them fuck it until tears spilled down his cheeks.

He had poured himself into every touch, helping to prepare Uhtred with fingers slicked in rose-scented oil, savouring the way his lord’s body responded to him. And when Finan’s fingers had worked their way into Sihtric’s own body, spreading him open with careful but relentless intent, his moans had turned to cries of wild pleasure.

He pressed the head of his cock against Uhtred’s entrance and Uhtred moaned, his head tipping back onto the bed, exposing the strong line of his throat. “You know what to do, don’t you?” Finan asked, his voice a mixture of encouragement and playful challenge. His hands rested firmly on Sihtric’s hips, steadying him as he pressed his own body closer, teasing Sihtric’s hole with his cock.

Sihtric nodded, though his breath was shaky and uneven. The heat of Finan’s body at his back and the sight of Uhtred laid bare before him were almost too much to bear. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, summoning the courage he needed. Slowly, he began to push forward, the tight heat of Uhtred’s body drawing him in, inch by inch.

Uhtred groaned, his hands fisting in the furs beneath him, his body arching slightly as he took Sihtric in. “By the gods, you are perfect, Sihtric,” Uhtred murmured, his voice thick and laden with pleasure. “Don’t stop. Take what you need.”

Finan’s grip on Sihtric’s hips tightened as he leaned in, his breath hot against Sihtric’s neck. “That’s it, lad. See? You were made for this,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and desire. The tip of his cock pressed insistently against Sihtric’s entrance, adding a delicious pressure that made the young Dane gasp.

Sihtric’s gasp turned into a low, trembling moan, his body caught in the intoxicating heat between Uhtred and Finan. The pressure at his back combined with the tightness of Uhtred’s body around him sent his senses spiralling. 

“Easy now,” Finan murmured, his lips grazing the back of Sihtric’s neck. His voice was steady, but the hunger in it was unmistakable. “Let yourself feel it.”

Sihtric bit his lip, nodding faintly as he began to move, his hips rocking slowly, tentatively, in and out of Uhtred’s welcoming heat. Every motion sent ripples of pleasure through him, Uhtred’s low groans encouraging him to keep going, to take more. But the insistent presence of Finan behind him made it impossible to stay focused, the Irishman’s cock teasing at his entrance, driving him mad.

“Good,” Uhtred rasped, his voice a mix of command and approval as his hands reached up, finding Sihtric’s upper arms. He squeezed them lightly, his fingertips digging into the taut muscle. “You are so good, Sihtric,” he groaned, spreading himself even more open to give Sihtric better access to his pulsing hole, to take him in deeper.

Finan chuckled softly, his teeth grazing the shell of Sihtric’s ear as his hands guided the younger man’s hips in a rhythm that matched his own teasing movements. “Ready for the next step, lad?” he asked, his tone equal parts gentle and wicked. “I think you can take it.”

Sihtric’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he nodded, overwhelmed but unwilling to stop. Finan pressed forward, the thick head of his cock breaching Sihtric’s entrance with a slow, deliberate push. The sensation was sharp at first, but the burn quickly melted into pleasure, coaxed along by the steady reassurance of Finan’s hands on his hips and the whispered words of encouragement in his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” Finan murmured, his voice husky. 

Sihtric cried out softly, his hands gripping Uhtred’s thighs as he tried to steady himself. The fullness of having both of them—Uhtred beneath him wrapped around his cock and Finan behind—was overwhelming in the best way possible. He had never felt so completely surrounded, so entirely claimed, yet so safe.

Uhtred’s hands slid up, brushing over Sihtric’s sides before grabbing his waist, pulling him slightly closer. “Good lad,” Uhtred groaned, his head tipping back as he watched Sihtric’s movements grow more confident. “You’re perfect, Sihtric. Absolutely perfect.”

Finan’s hips began to move in tandem with Sihtric’s, the three of them finding a rhythm that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through their bodies. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans, the rustling of the furs beneath them, and the faint crackle of the firelight casting their intertwined shadows on the walls. 

Sihtric’s pace quickened, his movements growing bolder as he lost himself in the pleasure. Uhtred’s low, guttural moans urged him on, the sound rolling over him like a wave, spurring him on to thrust harder, deeper. Each time he drove into his lord, it was met with a shuddering gasp or a whispered encouragement, Uhtred’s body arching beneath him in pure bliss.

Behind him, Finan’s hands gripped his hips with a steadying strength, guiding his movements and matching them with thrusts of his own. The stretch and fullness as Finan worked him with deliberate precision sent jolts of heat racing through Sihtric’s veins, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. He felt caught between them, utterly surrounded and consumed, yet completely whole.

“Give it to him, lad,” Finan growled, his voice rough with desire. “Show him what you’ve got. Don’t hold back.”

Uhtred’s fingers dug into Sihtric’s waist, his head tipping back onto the furs as his body tensed. “Yes,” Uhtred groaned, his voice thick and breathless. “Just like that. Don’t stop. Don’t—ah—stop.”

Sihtric couldn’t hold back any longer. His rhythm became relentless, each thrust driving him closer to the edge. He felt Finan’s cock stretching and filling him with every movement, while Uhtred’s tight hole pulsed and clenched around him with every thrust, the dual sensations overwhelming him completely. His cries mixed with Uhtred’s, his voice breaking as pleasure overtook him.

It happened all at once. Uhtred’s body arched, his hands gripping Sihtric’s arms with bruising force as he reached his climax, a deep, guttural moan tearing from his throat, cum spurting from his untouched cock and painting his belly white. The sight of his lord lost in pleasure was all it took to push Sihtric over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time, his body trembling violently as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him gasping and shuddering as he filled Uhtred’s hole with endless ropes of his own seed.

Behind him, Finan’s rhythm faltered, his breathless groans filling the room as he pounded into Sihtric chasing his own release. He pushed deeply into Sihtric one final time. His hands tightened on Sihtric’s hips as he spilled into him with a loud growl, his head falling forward onto Sihtric’s back. 

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, trembling and spent. The room slowly quieted, the only sounds remaining the soft crackle of the fire and their laboured breaths. Sihtric slumped forward, his head resting against Uhtred’s chest, while Finan’s arms encircled him from behind, holding him steady. The weight of their bodies pressed together was grounding, comforting, and impossibly intimate.

“You were incredible, lad,” Finan murmured, his lips brushing against Sihtric’s ear.

Uhtred’s hand moved to stroke Sihtric’s hair, his voice soft and full of warmth. “More than that—you were perfect.”

As the aftershocks of pleasure faded, the three of them shifted slowly, their breaths evening out. Finan eased himself back onto the bed, his arms still loosely wrapped around Sihtric’s waist, pulling him down with him. Uhtred moved to Sihtric’s other side, his hand brushing over the young Dane’s hair with quiet affection as they settled into the furs.

Uhtred tugged the thick furs over them, ensuring Sihtric was snugly nestled between him and Finan. The younger man let out a soft sigh, his head resting against Uhtred’s chest, while Finan pressed a gentle kiss to his temple from behind.

“Sleep, lad,” Finan murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness and satisfaction. “You’ve earned it.”

Uhtred’s hand continued to trace soothing patterns over Sihtric’s back, his other arm resting comfortably over both of them. “Rest now,” he said quietly, his tone carrying the same commanding reassurance that had drawn Sihtric to him from the start. “You’re safe. You’re ours.”

Sihtric’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, his body completely at ease between theirs. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt not just desired but cherished, loved in a way he hadn’t thought possible. A faint, contented smile played on his lips as sleep claimed him, the steady rise and fall of Uhtred and Finan’s breaths lulling him into peaceful oblivion.

[misfitbimbosblog]

I have spoken again.

(Btw obviously a joke pls don’t take what I say too seriously) 🖤

[rebeccawangart]

Lord Aethelred of Mercia (2024) | The Last Kingdom

This is a graphite pencil drawing of Aethelred from The Last Kingdom, based off of a screenshot from Season 3 episode 1. It was drawn on 9x12 inch (23 x 30 cm) heavyweight cold-press watercolor paper.

[lord-aldhelm]

March 1, 2023 Portrait of Hild (Eva Birthistle) on the set of The Last Kingdom. Photograph by James Northcote.

[chaoskilled-dinosaurs-darling]

if a show is trying to be historically accurate then it better have employed the best historians and researchers and have everything fact checked….

on the other hand, if they are throwing historical accuracy to the wind and saying ‘fuck it, the Tudor princess is going to say ‘Slay Queen’ and they’re all going to do the cha cha slide’ then i am on board