#and Aldhelm struggling to get over Aethelflaed and open his heart to someone new

[lord-aldhelm]

WIP File Game: Aldhelm x OC- tell us the plot bunny or a snippet!

Thanks for asking @thelettersfromnoone!!! This is still in the daydream stage but I have a rough outline for it. I don't want to spoil too much, but here is a synopsis.

This takes place after the end of S5. Aldhelm is out on patrol and comes across a small group of Danes who are causing trouble. One of the Danes is a woman warrior, and he gets into a scuffle with her. He has her disarmed, but he cannot bring himself to kill her (he doesn't believe in hurting women). So he lets her go and she escapes. They meet again later in a real battle, and he is injured. She has the chance to finish him off but she doesn't, remembering that he spared her life, she spares his. She heals his wounds and they later slowly get to know each other, and long story short they fall in love. I don't want to get into too many details since it would ruin the story but you get the idea.

[mirdaniaa]

a rope in hand for your other man

Aethelflaed walks in on her new husband with Aldhelm. She decides to stay.

Rated E.

written for @tlkfanficfest bingo 

read it on ao3 if you wish

Aethelflaed does not love her husband.

She had been warned that love might be slow to come, or not at all, but she had not expected to fear and loathe him. She had not expected to feel her stomach churn at the very thought of him putting his hands on her, to feel her skin crawl when his eyes so much as glanced at her.

She wants to love him, as a wife should love her husband. She wants to be a good Lady of Mercia, to stand by his side, give him counsel, and give him heirs.

But how can she do any of those things when she can’t even stand to be in the same room as him?

She cannot help but wish she’d married his kinsman, Aldhelm. There is a good and kindly man who would treat her well. True, he does not have the status Aethelred does, but in truth, Aldhelm has a better head for ruling than Aethelred does. Perhaps Aldhelm should have been made Lord of Mercia, and she his Lady.

She blushes. She should not think such things. It is not Christian. She is Aethelred’s wife, and as poor of a husband as he is turning out to be, she swore a holy vow to take him as her husband. She will learn to live with Aethelred, somehow or other.

.

She’s awoken from her sleep by a shout from the other room.

Aethelflaed sits up, her heart pounding. Are they under attack? She strains her ears, but she doesn’t hear the sounds of battle.

There’s a thud from the other room. Her husband’s room, she realizes. Is someone on their estate now, robbing him?

She sits in her bed, clutching the furs.

What does she do?

Some savage, unchristian part of her wants to go back to sleep, to let him be beaten and robbed.

But another, sensitive and more logical part of her knows that she can’t sit idly by. Even if the person attacking her husband does not come for her next, it would be wrong, to let him suffer alone. She is a better person than he is, and she will save his life, and maybe he will even be grateful to her for it.

She slides out of bed, padding to her husband’s door. Yes, she can hear a struggle on the other side of the door, and the sound of two men’s voices; one her husband’s, and one deeper.

You can do this, she tells herself, and then pushes open the door.

She is stunned to find Aethelred, not being attacked--at least, not in the way she’d thought.

He lies face-down on his bed, his ringed fingers gripping the furs...and behind him, Aldhelm grips his naked hips, his own hips flush against him.

She can feel the blood rush to her cheeks.

Oh.

“Lady,” Aldhelm says in surprise. But not shame. Not fear. Not anger. Just...surprise. He doesn’t even pull himself from her husband’s bottom, just stands there, looking at her.

Aethelred lifts his golden head, his jaw slack and his eyes darker than she’s ever seen them. Not with malice, she realizes. With pleasure.

“Get out,” he says in a ragged voice.

Aldhelm surprises her by raising his hand, bringing it down on Aethelred’s bottom in a short, sharp slap. “Now, Lord, that is not the way we speak to a lady,” he says sternly.

Aethelred pushes his face into the furs, making a whimpering sort of sound.

“Apologize, and invite her in,” Aldhelm says in the same stern voice.

Aethelred lifts his face, his cheeks flushed and his eyes hooded. “Wife,” he says in a strained voice, “forgive the way I spoke to you. It was not fitting.” He breathes deeply. “Will you join us?”

Aethelflaed wonders if perhaps she’s dreaming. She braces a hand on the doorframe, unsure of what to say. “I...to watch?”

“If you like,” Aldhelm says calmly. “Or to partake. It’s your choice.”

She feels warm all over. She should leave. She should pray. She certainly shouldn’t join them, even if it is only to watch.

But she finds herself moving into the room, closing the door behind her. “Thank you,” she says, calmer than she feels.

She doesn’t think she’s imagining the excitement in Aldhelm’s eyes, or the curiosity in Aethelred’s.

“So which is it?” Aethelred asks. “Watch, or join in?”

“Whichever will cause you greater discomfort.”

Aldhelm glances between the two of them. “Lord, have you been ungentle with Lady Aethelflaed?”

Aethelred doesn’t answer right away, prompting another slap on the bottom. “Answer me, Lord.”

“Yes,” Aethelred hisses.

“You know we’ve discussed this,” Aldhelm chides. He turns his attention back to Aethelflaed. “Lady, will you get on the bed? I think I know a way Aethelred may atone for his behavior.”

Curious and, if she’s being honest, excited, she walks slowly to the bed, sitting on her knees.

“Lie back, if you please.”

She does, watching in fascination as Aldhelm gently takes her ankles, pulling her so that Aethelred’s face is in her lap.

“Go on,” Aldhelm says, far sterner with her husband than he is with her.

Aethelred makes a face of contempt. “I don’t—”

Aldhelm wraps his fingers in Aethelred’s golden ringlets, pulling his head back. “You do now.” He releases Aethelred, and to her amazement, her husband lowers his golden head, his hands pushing her nightgown up to her hips before he kisses her cunt.

The sensation is unlike any she’s ever experienced. This is not like the dutiful pecks on the mouth, nor is it like the harsh couplings in the marriage bed. This is unexpectedly soft, and it fills her with warmth and a rush of something she’s never felt before. Her back arches like a cat stretching in the sunlight, and when she looks up, she sees Aldhelm watching with approval. He begins thrusting inside Aethelred again, murmuring, “Good. Very good.”

Now it’s Aethelred’s turn to arch his back, his moan sending tingles up her spine. She can feel herself growing warm and wet as Aethelred’s tongue tastes parts of her she’s never even touched.

This is what love should be, she thinks.

And to think: all because she walked in on her husband with another man.

That other man is still watching her, his eyes dark as he takes in the sight of Aethelred’s head between her legs. He tangles his fingers in Aethelred’s hair again, pushing his face even closer to her, urging Aethelred’s tongue to slip inside her. She arches her back again, one hand reaching instinctively for Aethelred’s hair. Her fingers find Aldhelm’s, heat rushing through her as he links his fingers with hers. She stares up at him, watching him watch her with Aethelred between them.

A tension is building within her, like a bowstring growing tauter by the second. She has both hands buried in Aethelred’s hair now, but it’s Aldhelm’s fingers that anchor her as she soars higher and higher.

The tension snaps, and Aethelflaed feels her whole body lift off the bed, a roar like the ocean filling her senses.

When she comes back to herself, Aethelred is looking at her with hooded eyes, his lips obscenely wet. Behind him, Aldhelm is snapping his hips roughly, sweat beading on his brow. With a grunt, he grips Aethelred’s hips, so hard she thinks her husband will bruise.

Aethelred is trembling, his hands gripping the furs as he pants and writhes. “Please,” he whispers hoarsely.

Aldhelm breathes heavily, patting Aethelred’s back. “Yes,” he says, surprisingly in control even now, even like this. He pulls Aethelred from the bed, maneuvering so that he’s sitting on the bed with Aethelred’s legs spread over his lap. She watches in awe as her husband leans back against Aldhelm, moaning while Aldhelm strokes him and tells him how good he’s been.

Her husband. Who would have thought?

It takes next to nothing for Aethelred to spill his seed into Aldhelm’s hand, panting as his hips jerk weakly. When he’s spent, Aldhelm holds up his hand so that Aethelred can lick it clean.

Aethelflaed feels a stirring between her legs, her pulse quickening at the sight of Aldhelm tenderly kissing her husband. Almost as if sensing her desire, Aldhelm opens his eyes, watching her. He murmurs something in Aethelred’s ear, and then both men are looking at her, their eyes dancing.

Aethelflaed still does not love her husband.

But she thinks she has found a way to live with him.