#if we look at Guthred

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐂𝐕𝐈. Although it remains abundantly clear that the Archons aren't the only gods that took part in the destruction of Khaenri'ah 500 years ago if we take into consideration the characteristic cubes of that the Unknown God uses, now that we've been officially introduced to yet another shade, there is a couple of interesting thoughts: the first is the plausibility that the Unknown God (or Asmoday as a potential name that was long ago discovered in the name files) being the last shade we know the least of at this point, which is the Shade of Eonthem / Space / Void / Emptiness (I'll touch on this on another post related to the fake sky); as for the second thought is the notion that at least two shades of the Primordial One took part in the destruction of Khaenri'ah and the curses laid on Khaenri'ahns thereafter.

For this post in particular I want to point towards Ronova, the Shade of Death, as the highly likely instigator of the curse of immortality laid upon the pure-blooded Khaenri'ahns if we're to take the Lord of the Night's quote "so, the Ruler of Death sent you on your long journey" to Capitano as the clue that it was her the one applying this curse. Once again, this begs the question of what makes pure-blood Khaenri'ahns special to receive this curse.

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ promised to another p2

pairing: sihtric x female! reader | genre: forbidden romance? angst, fluff | warnings: slight cussing, kissing, rushed writing because i accidentally deleted this part | wc: 6.6k |

synopsis: goodbyes are hard, but sometimes there necessary.

request: yes

note: here is part two! I am thinking there might be 3 more parts? I’m not to sure yet! I have a lot of ideas for this short series, I can’t wait for you guys to read them! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Part one Part two Part three

The journey to Eoferwic wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. You rode alongside Lady Gisela, the two of you conversating while Hild and Matthew rode behind the two of you. You and Gisela often found yourself giggling quietly whenever the two of you would hear Matthew try to flirt with Hild. Emphasize on try, either Hild was oblivious to his flirting, or she was just simply not interested. You didn't know what was worse.  

“Here let me help you down” Matthew voiced out as he held his arms out to help you down from your horse. You smile thankfully and hold onto his arms as you get down, making sure not to trip over your dress. You fix your dress while Matthew pulls your horse to the stables. You feel a heavy stare on your back, you turn your head back expecting to see sihtric, but instead you see a blonde and blue-eyed Dane with his beard tied. HIs eyes widen when the two of you make eye contact, but he doesn't break eye contact not until you do. 

You turn away from him when you hear Uhtred call your name. You walk towards Uhtred and your face turns into a look of disgust when you see the bloody bag on his floor. You look at him confused when you notice that he seems to be getting his horse ready to leave, we just got here?  “Are we leaving again?” 

“No, I’m leaving, and you are going to stay here with Hild and Matthew, Don't Worry I’ll be back soon” Uhtred told you with a stern look as he stood back up from crouching down to rub his horse's legs. You were still confused “Where are you going?”

“To cause some mischief” Uhtred smirks, he decided not to tell you what he really was doing, he knew you would try to talk him out of it. And besides it wasn't like he was lying with his response; he would be causing mischief. You sigh and cross your arms over your chest “Of course you are.” 

“Stay with Hild and Matthew please, stay inside and don't go near those Danes, okay?” Uhtred stepped closer to you and raised his eyebrow, waiting for your response. He always seemed to worry for you, and leaving you here only made him worry more, but he had to do this. You give him a reassuring smile and nod “Okay.” 

“Good, now go inside King Guthred was kind enough to offer you a room” Uhtred says with a knowing smirk at the end. You huff in annoyance and turn around, 

“How kind of him” You mutter sarcastically to yourself as you walk away from Uhtred. Rolling your eyes when you hear Uhtred laugh at your words. It was no secret between the two of you that you did not like King Guthred, not one bit. 

You had spent the rest of the day and night alone in the room King Guthred had given you, you were tired from the journey and after failing at trying to find sihtric, you decided to just rest for the rest of the day. You also didn't feel comfortable with the stares that came from some of the Danes. So, you just got a book and relaxed in your bed, feeling even more safe knowing that Matthew was just outside your door. 

You had spent the next day with Lady Gisela and Hild before spending some time with Uhtred when he got back. You had dinner with Uhtred and Hild before Matthew walked you back to your room. You said goodnight to him and went into your room, getting ready for bed.  

You sat at the wood vanity, fixing your hair for bed. There were a few lit candles throughout the room, creating a warm ambience. You were dressed in a nightgown and robe, your body just itching to curl up in your bed and sleep. You were quietly humming a song your father had sung to you when you were little when you heard a strange noise. 

You stopped humming and set your comb down, your eyes glancing at your door before looking towards your window, when you hear another sound. You stand up from the stool at the vanity and slowly walk towards the closed window, faltering slightly when you hear a soft knock on the window. So soft you were sure Matthew couldn't hear it, and after no sound from Matthew outside your room you knew he didn't hear it.  

You stood there for a few seconds wondering what you should do. Do I call Matthew and tell him? Or do I open the window myself? You decided on the latter. You stepped forward and quietly unlocked the hatch to the wood window and opened it. The person who was revealed on the other side caused you to smile shyly and lean forward against the window seal. 

Sihtric smiled at the sight of you, you looked absolutely breathtaking. The light from the moon made your skin glow, and the light from the candles flickered behind you, you were covered in your robe, but because you were leaning forward, the robe did not cover your collarbone and you had a sweet smile on your lips. Absolutely beautiful. 

“Sihtric? What are you doing here?” You asked him quietly, you definitely weren't upset that he was here. You were just shocked and confused. 

“I wanted to see you,” Sihtric said quietly with his own smile, he put his hands on the window seal that was at level with his waist and leaned closer to you. Both of you flustered at how close the two of you were. Not only were you flustered at the closeness, but you were also flustered by the fact that he wanted to see you. 

“What if Matthew opened the window, not me?” You asked him with a teasing smirk, tilting your head to get a better look at him, the moon was reflecting on his face. Sihtric laughed quietly and shook his head as he thought about it, to be honest he did worry about that, but he honestly missed you much to care. “I’m sure I would be dead right now.”  

“You definitely would be.” 

“Matthew doesn't like me, does he?” He asked even though the answer was obvious. Sihtric had tried to come see you several times but one glare from Matthew had him turning around and cursing to himself for being so scared of the guard. 

“Don't be offended matthew hates most people.” 

“He doesn't seem to hate Hild” Sihtric smirks as he thinks back on the many times, he had caught Matthew staring at the blonde warrior. You smile and speak a little louder, excited that he had noticed too. “You noticed that too?!” 

“It's hard not to, if his eyes aren't on you there on Hild”  Sihtric chuckles quietly. You decided at that moment that you liked, no loved the sound of his laughter. You decided to take a risky step and move your hand to rest on top of his. 

You shyly looked down at yours and his hand and watched as he turned his hand over to interlock with yours; his thumb caressing the soft skin of your hand. You look up at him with a bashful smile at the feeling of his soft touch and whisper. “And what are your eyes on?” 

“You, ever since I met you they have always been on you” Sihtric says quickly as he looks into your eyes, he didn't need to think of his answer because he knew it was you. It was always going to be you. 

“Would you like to come in?” You ask him in a whisper, surprising you both by your words. He didn't have to think twice before nodding yes. You giggle quietly at his eagerness and step back so he could climb through your window. You watch with wide eyes as he swiftly climbs through your window, not making one noise. Sihtric steps close to you and he reaches for your hand at your side, interlocking your fingers. Your hand fits perfectly in mine, Sihtric thinks. 

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you” You confess in a whisper, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his leather bracelets nervously. No one has ever made you feel the way sihtric made you feel. You wait a few moments before looking up at him, he was already looking at you. Sihtric pulls you closer by your hand making you smile and rest your other hand on his chest. Sihtric whispers back “I’m glad because neither have i” 

“You wanna know what i’m thinking now?” You spoke softly as you took a step closer. Your chests were now touching, and you had to tilt your head up to really look at him, the hand you had on his chest moved to his arm. He was surprised by your flirty tone, but he was quick to respond in his own flirty tone “I hope it's something about me.” 

“I’m thinking of you kissing me, are you going to make me wait any longer?” You say confidently with a playful pout at the end. Sihtric chuckles in shock, he definitely did not expect you to say this, but he was happy to know the two of you were thinking the same thing. 

Sihtric slowly trails his hands up your arms, his eyes not leaving yours as his hands move to cup the soft skin of your cheeks. He noticed the way your breath hitched and your eyes flutter close when he leaned so close to you that your noses touched, he smiled and whispered, “No my lady, I won't.” 

Sihtric closed his eyes and pulled your face closer to his, locking your lips in a soft and sensual kiss. You felt him run his tongue along your bottom lip, his tongue slipping through your parted lips. You have never kissed someone like this, so you let sihtric take the lead, and he did. The kiss turned heated as one of his hands moved down to your lower back pressing you against him more if that was possible. You pull away from the kiss with a gasp when you feel his hand softly squeeze your arse.

He opened his eyes and smiled as he watched you catch your breath, small pants escaping through your lips, your eyes still closed. He felt quite proud that he made you so breathless. You looked so pretty like this. Sihtric softly caresses your cheek with his thumb, making you flutter your eyes open, locking eyes with his. You had so much to say, you just didn't know how to say it. 

Sihtric moves his hand from your bottom and up to your shoulder. He holds onto the collar of your robe, feeling the silk fabric between his fingers he has never felt such a fabric before. Sihtric’s eyes go to you, and he silently asks for permission, you give him a shy nod. Sihtric moves your robe back, showing him your bare collarbone. He keeps eye contact with you for as long as he leans down to your neck. 

You close your eyes in anticipation, a small gasp escapes past your parted lips at the feeling of his warm lips on your bare collarbone. Sihtric warms up your collarbone with a few long kisses, it was a feeling you never felt before. You tilt your head more to the side, a quiet moan escaping your lips, as his lips travel up to your jaw, leaving wet kisses in his wake. 

Sihtrics hands move to your shoulders and swiftly pull’s your robe off, letting it fall at your feet. Sihtric parts from your jaw to look at you, a smirk forming on his red lips at the sight of you. You opened your eyes and breathlessly looked up at him. Sihtric moves his hands to the back of your thighs and murmured huskily “Jump.” 

You move your hands to his shoulders and follow his instructions, your eyes don't leave his as he picks you up and walks you towards your bed. You let out a small gasp when he softly lays you down in the middle of your bed. You sit up a little, propping yourself up on your elbows. Sihtric sits up on his knees and touches the soft skin of your calves, slowly trailing his hands up your legs and stopping right where your nightgown ends, just above your knees. 

Sihtric wants to move his hands higher, but he stops himself. He had to stop now, because if he didnt he wouldn't be able to stop himself and he knew you weren't ready for that. Sihtric looks down at you and whispers “You should get some rest.” 

You were a little confused at the sudden stop, but he was right, and it was a good idea to stop before the two of you were to ahead. You don't want him to leave you though “Will you stay?” 

Sihtric contemplated, he couldn't risk getting caught by Matthew or others. If anyone saw the two of you in such a position, he knew that you would get in a lot more trouble than he would, he didn't want that to happen to you, he didn't want to be the reason. But as soon as he locked eyes with you and saw the cute pout on your lips, he knew he couldn't say no. “Just until you fall asleep.” 

Better than nothing you think with a smile. You start moving back on your bed until your head finds its way on your pillow. Sihtric waits until you make yourself comfortable under the covers until he lays next to you. You find yourself nuzzling into his side and resting your head on his chest and your arm around his midsection. Sihtric smiles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you as close as he can. He knew that it would make it harder for him to leave, but the feeling of you against him clouded his judgment. 

“Goodnight Sihtric” You muttered as you closed your eyes and let sleep engulf you. Sihtric looks down at you and his heart skips at the sight of you, the fact that you felt comfortable to fall asleep with him, made him feel things he never felt before and with open arms he welcomed those feelings. He kissed your forehead before muttering “goodnight my y/n.” 

And within minutes the two of you were sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. Both of you completely unaware of the conversation that was happening between King Guthred and Uhtred. The topic being you and how you are not wed yet. 

You woke up alone, and even though he had told you he would only stay until you fell asleep, you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that he stuck to his words. You didn't get any time to process that you were alone before the door of your room was loudly slammed open. You let out a shriek and pull the blankets up to your chest, when you noticed a man with a sword you didn't recognize step into your room, a second later an angry Matthew was following him, sword in his hand. 

“You Take one step towards her, and I am shoving my sword through your neck” Matthew threatened as he stood behind the guard, lifting his sword up and pointing it at the back of the intruder's neck. The guard immediately stills and lifts his hands up in surrender, sword still in his hand. He spoke in a fearful but strong tone “King Guthred Commands the Lady’s presence.” 

“I only take orders from one man and it's certainly not your betrayer cunt of a king” Matthew snapped angrily making your eyes widen. You knew that Matthew didn't like King Guthred, neither did you, but where did this come from? What was going on? 

“Now i won't ask again, leave my Lady’s room or your King will find you in a pool of your own blood” Matthew snarled as he kept his sword pointed at the guard. The guard looks back at you and you pull the blanket tighter to your chest, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. The guard huffs and cautiously walks out of your room. 

You watch as Matthew swiftly closes and locks your door before making his way to the wood wardrobe in the corner of the room. Matthew opens your wardrobe and internally thanks god that you weren't fully unpacked, you only had a few dresses hanging up while the rest of your things were still in your bags. You look at him in confusion as he hurries to pack your hanged up clothes. “Matthew what's going on?” 

“Hurry up and get changed. I will explain to you after” he tells you quickly as he tosses you a dress for you to change into, he knows that you would need a dress to wear comfortably while you ride, and he has seen you wear it a few times. You frown when the dress hits you in the face, but your frown turns to a look of annoyance as you get out of bed and hold onto the dress. “I command you to tell me now!” 

“Did you not just hear me” Matthew rolls his eyes as he glances back at you, he doesn't look for long before he goes over to the small desk and packs the few books you had into your satchel. 

“You said you only take commands from one man, i am a woman” you say pointedly, you refused to do anything else without knowing what was going on. You have never seen Matthew like this, and it worried you very much. Matthew rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath “A fucking stubborn woman.” 

“Matthew please” You plead as you walk over to your changing screen, stepping behind it so you can change. You quickly change out of your nightgown and into the gray dress that Matthew picked out for you. 

Matthew sighs, he knew this wouldn't be easy for you to comprehend. It's better if I just tell her quickly, he thinks. Matthew stops packing your things for a second and tells you the truth. “King Guthred sold Halig and Uhtred as slaves.” 

At his words your fingers stop fixing your dress and you just stood there in silence for a few moments. You were feeling too many emotions, fear, sadness, confusion, anger.  “What...” 

“We have to take you to King Alfred, he and Uhtred made a deal that if anything happens to Uhtred, you are to be brought back to King Alfred” Matthew tells you. Your eyes widen and you step out from behind you dressing screen, Matthew is already looking at you, you frown and step closer to him “I…I can't just leave.” 

“Yes, you can, you get on your horse, and we ride out of this cursed place” Matthew says with a fake smile before going back to gathering your things, he would attach them to the horses before you two would leave. You roll your eyes and huff he’s just not getting it. “I have to say goodbye.” 

If you left that means you couldn't help, find Uhtred and Halig, you couldn't let that happen to them. The thought of Uhtred going through that brought tears to your eyes, you don't know what you would do without Uhtred. He was with you for everything. If you left…you would be leaving sihtric, you really didn't want to leave him. 

“Hild already knows, we will see her again” Matthew sighs, he didn't want to leave Hild, but his first priority was you. He needed to make sure you were safe, you came first. He also didn't want to tell you that she was already gone. 

“Not to Hild, to sihtric! I have to say goodbye to him” You insisted loudly. Last night confirmed how you felt for him, you cared for him a lot. And you would be lying if you said you weren't scared about it, the two of you haven't known each other long and the feelings you had for him were so strong. I hope he feels the same way you think. 

“Sihtric?! The Dane that looks like a rat?” Matthew exclaims in shock. Why did you need to say goodbye to him? Mathew thinks. He didn't like this and he didn't like sihtric, he especially didn't like sihtric around you. 

“He does not look like a rat!” you defend sihtric glaring at Matthew, sihtric was so very handsome, definitely the most handsome man you have ever seen. Matthew’s eyes widened at your tone and the way you defended sihtric did i miss something? Matthew thought. It was like he was hit in the back of the head with the answer. 

“Oh, dear god you are in love with him!” 

“I am not…” You mutter as you shake your head no. good job that sounded convincing you think sarcastically. 

“When did you even get the time to fall in love with him?!” Matthew exclaimed loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. He of course wanted you to be happy, but he knew this wouldn't work out between the two of you, he wanted to save you from that heartbreak.  Yeah, he definitely was not liking this! 

“Matthew, I am not in love with him!” You shouted as you clenched your fists, stopping yourself from throwing a pillow at him. You cared for him deeply, but love? Not yet…but it could be if the two of you had more time. I don't have much time now, you think sadly. You step closer to him and hold onto his arm. Your tone pleading as you ask him again “Please Matthew.” 

“Pack the rest of your things, i will see what i can do” he says with a sigh. He couldn't say no to you…but he wouldn't exactly say yes. He pats your hand that was on his arm before he steps towards the bed and grabs your bag of clothes. 

“I will say goodbye to him Matthew.” 

“For fucks sake, when did you become so stubborn” Matthew muttered to himself as he unlocked and opened the door to your room, closing it behind him. Leaving you alone to finish packing and alone with your thoughts. 

You had finished packing the few things you had left in the room in your satchel by the time Matthew came back for you. Matthew made sure to keep you close to him as the two of you walked towards the stables, Matthew had Clapa guarding your horses and things while he went to come get you. You greeted Clapa with a smile and a small hello. Clapa smiled at you and said goodbye and Goodluck before he left the two of you alone in the stables with your horses. 

There was no denial of your feelings, you were sad. Sad that you had to leave, Sad that Uhtred was gone and sad that you couldn't say goodbye to sihtric. You passed your satchel to Matthew and watched as he attached it to your horse. Your horse held your satchel and Matthew's small bag while his horse held your larger bag. 

You glanced behind you at the entrance of the stables for felt like the 100th time since you have been in there, just hoping any second sihtric would walk in…but he doesn't. You sigh and look back to your horse, distracting yourself by petting its mane. Matthew notices but he doesn't say anything; he just continues to make sure everything is securely strapped.  

You look up and watch Matthew walk towards the entrance of the stables to leave, you look at him in confusion. “Where are you going?” 

You get even more confused when Matthew told you to just wait there. But nonetheless you listened to him. After a few minutes you start to get worried, but you stay there. Is Matthew, okay? you think nervously. As if your horse senses your nervousness, he nudges you with his head causing you to look away from the entrance and back at him. You smile softly and rub the side of his face. “It’s okay, Matthew will be back soon and then we will leave.” 

“What, you weren't going to say goodbye to me first?” 

Your neck almost snapped with how fast you turned it to look behind you. Your feet were moving you towards him before you could really process that he was there. His arms were already open for you as you rushed to him. Sihtric’s arms wrap around you and pull you close to him while your arms wrap around his waist, pulling you into a tight hug. Neither of you wanted to let go; you didn't know the next time you would be able to hold each other. 

Reluctantly after a minute or so of silence, Sihtric moves his hands to your arms and pulls away from the hug. He still kept you close to him as he looked down at you, the sadness in your eyes was breaking his heart, it was a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He's been emotionally hurt before, but it was different this time. “Don't look at me like that” 

“Like what?” 

“Like this is going to be the last time we will see each other” sihtric whispers as he moves his hand up to your face, softly caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. He could tell in your eyes that you didn't believe him. Sihtric moves both of his hands to cup your cheeks, causing you to stop avoiding his eyes and look up at him. He spoke in a strong and reassuring tone “It won't be y/n.” 

“I will be in Winchester- the king would never let me see you or have yo-” You protest with a shake of your head, but you get cut off by sihtric and his sweet but assertive tone. “I promise to you My Lady, we will see each other again.” 

“I don't want to go…we haven't had enough time” you whispered in a quavering tone. It wasn’t fair, you wanted Uhtred back and you wanted to stay with him and sihtric. You wanted more time. You wanted more time together, to get to know each other more…more time for him to call you my lady despite you asking him not to. 

“You have to go, we will have more time y/n…you just have to wait” Sihtric promised to you, he himself did not know if that would be true or not, but he had hope. 

“Y/n it's time to go” Matthew spoke as he stepped into the stable barn, his eyes immediately had gone to sihtric and the way he was holding you. Despite how much he disliked it, he didn't say anything. 

You frantically turned your head to your guard who stood in the entrance, your tone pleading and your eyes teary “Please just a little longer.” 

“Fine” Matthew huffed; he sent a glare to sihtric before he left. Sihtric let out a heavy sigh once Mattew had left before looking back to you, he didn’t want you to leave but he knew it was what's best for you. Sihtric smiles sadly and whispers “It's time for you to go.” 

He had to let you go now. 

“I don't want to leave you” You whispered with a sniffle, your voice cracking. You moved your body closer to him, your arms holding on to his as his hands cupped your cheeks. 

“Hey, don't cry…it will be okay” Sihtric whispered as he wiped away your tears. You closed your eyes and let yourself lean your face against his palm.  After a few moments you open your eyes and look up into Sihtric’s beautiful eyes. Was this going to be the last time I see them? 

You move your hands to the collar of his vest and close your eyes as you pull him down and lock his lips in a kiss. Sihtric closes his eyes and moves his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against him, one of your hands moves to his jaw as you part your lips. Sihtric moans against your lips and slips his tongue into your mouth, he wanted to explore every inch of your mouth before he had to let you go. He was going to leave you with a kiss that you would remember. Sihtric moves his tongue against yours before gently biting on your bottom lip, a sense of satisfaction when a small moan escapes past your lips. 

Just as Sihtric pulled away from the kiss, Matthew walked back into the stables. Matthew looked away from the two of you and down at the floor, he wasn’t going to leave but he could try to give you a little bit more privacy. 

Sihtric let out a heavy sigh and squeezed his eyes shut as he kissed your forehead. He didn't want to let go but he knew he had to. Sihtric let go of your face, not before wiping a few of your fresh tears. You opened your eyes and made eye contact with him as he stepped away from you. Neither of you had to say anything else, that kiss said everything that needed to be said. 

Sihtric gave you one more sad smile before he looked away from you and walked past Matthew and outside of the stables. You watched him with tears streaming down your cheeks and a quivering lip. Sihtric didn’t dare look back, because he knew he wouldn’t let you leave, he couldn’t see you cry not again. 

Matthew stepped closer to you, and you turned your back to him and wiped your tears away, you didn’t want Matthew to see you cry. Matthew put a comforting hand on your shoulder “I’m sorry y/n but we have to go.” 

You sniffle and nod weakly, turning around to face him. You try your hardest to give him a fake smile, but he sees right through it. Matthew mumbles out a come here and pulls you into your arms. You let out a sob and shove your face into his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, clinging to him like you would Uhtred. 

“It's too much” you voice out between your quiet cries’. Uhtred was gone, oh Uhtred he’s probably suffering right now. Your heartbreaking goodbye with sihtric…it was all too much. 

“It’s going to be okay y/n…you're going to be okay” Matthew promised as he rubbed your back, he was going to make sure you were okay. No matter what. 

I’ll be okay, everything is going to be okay. You repeat over and over again. 

Matthew only let the two of you stop once on the ride to Winchester. He wanted to get the two of you there as fast as he could. Not just because Uhtred told him to take you back to Winchester, but because he overheard a conversation he was definitely not supposed to have. He had heard a conversation between King Guthred and Abbot talking about the possibility of Guthred marrying you. Matthew was not going to let that happen. Never. 

You were thanking God when the two of you had finally made it to Winchester, you were in desperate need of some rest and a private place where you could cry and calm down your emotions. Your cheeks were sore from all the tears you had shed, and your head hurt. 

You noticed the figure of Father Beocca standing on the front steps of the castle, two guards behind him. You get off your horse and wince at the soreness you felt, you pet your horse's mane while Matthew shakes Beocca’s hand and says their greetings. Beocca turns his head and tells the two guards to take my bags to my room and feed and water our horses. 

“Lady y/n it is always nice to see you” Father Beocca greets you with a smile and nod, he noticed your slightly red eyes, but he said nothing of it, he knew you and Uhtred were very close and that you were most likely very upset about what had happened to him. 

“You as well Father Beocca” You greeted him back with a small smile you had missed him. You rub your sore hands from holding onto the reins, on your dress nervously. 

“Come, the king is waiting for you” Father Beocca tells you. You glance at Matthew, and he gives you a reassuring nod, he knew that you were already emotionally overwhelmed…but you couldn’t say no to the king. You look back at Beocca and give him a fake smile and nod “Let’s not keep him waiting then.” 

Father gives you both a faint smile before turning around and walking into the castle, you follow him with Matthew at your side. You walk into the entrance garden and a small smile forms on your lips as you look around. You had spent many hours playing in the garden with Aethelflaed. Matthew handed his sword to the guard and 3 of his daggers that he kept on him, he made sure to keep one still on him; hidden of course. 

The only sound that you could hear was the sound of footsteps as you and Matthew followed Beocca. You tried to be happy that you were going to see King Alfred, and maybe in another situation you would be. But you just felt heartbroken and tired. 

The three of you stopped in front of a closed door, the guards who stood guard nodded at Father Beocca before opening the door for the three of you. You let out a tired sigh before following Beocca into the room. Your eyes immediately went to King Alfred who was sitting on his throne. He looked sickly. 

King Alfred stood up from his throne and walked towards you, surprising you when he took your hand into his oddly clammy one, his other hand patting the top of your hand. King Alfred gives you a rare faint smile “it’s good to see you y/n, I’m right to assume Uhtred took good care of you?” 

“He did, Uhtred and Matthew kept me safe” you smiled faintly, nervously playing with the sleeves of your dress once Alfred let go of your hand. King Alfred hums and nods thankfully at Matthew, he wouldn’t know what he would do if you would have been hurt. Alfred looks back at you and for a second, he feels guilty for what he has to tell you, but he knew this was needed, this was your duty. 

“We have much to discuss y/n.” 

You glance back at Matthew nervously before looking back at King Alfred, watching as he steps back and goes to sit on his throne. Is it about Uhtred? You think desperately, you really hope it is. You wanted to ask him what you had to discuss, but you had a feeling this was a situation where you listen…not ask questions. 

“I have had you kept from your duties for too long y/n” King Alfred tells you as he folds his hands in his lap, his eyes not leaving you. You tensed up at his words, what did that mean? You think nervously. It wasn’t your choice to be away, it was his. You weren’t the only one who had tensed at the king's words, Matthew did as well. 

Matthew's eyes never left your frame…he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Neither of you were going to like it. 

“I know that today has been hard for you, but you cannot let that distract you from your future” King Alfred said with a stern voice. He felt empathetic for you but like he said, no distractions. You agreed with him, you didn't want this to distract and take you away from your life, but it was a lot easier said than done. You didn't want to think about your future right now, you just wanted to cry and sleep. 

“Aethelflaed will be ready to be betrothed soon” King Alfred tells you and you give him a look of confusion, what did this have to do with me? Was Aethelflaed really ready for this? You thought. Matthew and Father Beocca glance at each other, both of them were confident they knew where this was going. Both of them were nervous about what the outcome would be. 

King Afred noticed the confusion on your face, and he sat up straighter, he knew you would not like this, but this was necessary…as a king he has to make hard decisions, decisions that would make others angry. But in the end, it would be beneficial for all. “We believe it’s time for you to.” 

Matthew watched you with worried eyes as you took in the king's words. You just stood there in shock, you didn't know what to say or think. Your fingers twitched at your side as you avert your eyes down at the floor, you couldn't look at the king right now. Deep down you knew this day would come, where you would have to marry. You were just foolish to think that it would be of your own accords. The King always had a plan, he most likely already has chosen someone for you to marry. You couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. It was never going to be my choice, was it?... Wait, who's we? You think. 

Before you could lift your head and ask the King, there was a knock on the door. You lift your head and instead of looking to the king you look to Matthew; he was already looking at you. He was looking for one sign from you, one sign that will tell him to get you out of here, but you never gave him that sign. You stood there strong, your face blank of emotion, but Matthew knew you well enough to know what you were just hiding how you truly felt. 

You look back to the king and watch as he nods at the guard, telling them to open the doors. You don't look behind you when the door opens, you just look down at your folded hands in front of you, letting out a shaky breath. I’ll be okay, everything is going to be okay. You repeat again. 

“I hope I am not interrupting your majesty” A voice behind you says smoothly. You look up from the ground and turn your head slightly, curious to see who it was. Walking closer to you and the king was a blonde man with piercing blue eyes…he was handsome…but not as handsome as sihtric, oh sihtric. The blonde man glances at you and gives you a small smile before looking at the king, you don't return that smile, you just turn your head and look back down at the floor. 

“Nonsense Arthur” King Alfred says with a slight wave of dismal. Arthur smiles politely and nods as he glances back at you, it was obvious you weren't interested in him not one bit but that didn't stop him from taking in your beauty.  

King Arthur noticed the way Arthur's eyes went back to you and he felt a little relief that at least one of you seemed interested in the other. King Alfred Clears his throat, causing everyone in the room to look at him. King Alfred turns his head to Arthur “Arthur this is lady y/n” 

Arthur looks back at you, happy to know your name. He gives you a smile and a small hello, you give him a poor excuse of a small smile and nod. King Alfred noticed your look and he clenched his jaw, what he was going to say next was only going to anger you more, but he continued. 

“Lady y/n this is Arthur of Mercia…your betrothed.” 

note: they finally kissed!…but then they had to get separated (sorry) 🙂 I have a love hate relationship with this part! I feel like I kinda rushed them, but oh welll.

So i had more Matthew in this part, i actually love him. He’s going to have a solid part in this series. I also introduced you guys to a new character, his name is Arthur and I am not going to say anything else about his character, it’s going to be a surprise

I really hope you guys enjoyed this part! Please let me know in the comments how you feel! And feel free to send in some asks about the series, I would love to answer them! ☺️

Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also I wanted to share some face claims, I thought of while writing

Matthew Arthur

taglist: @clairacassidy @mads-weasley @haikyusfics @emilyhufflepufftlk @bubblyabs @kitkat1690 @brianochka

copyright ©️ 2023, all rights reserved. you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout. 

[foxyanon]

To Love A Dragon: Part 3

Since my birthday is in a couple days, here’s a gift from me to y’all! Something a bit lighter for my babies after the last depressive piece I released 😅 I do directly quote Season 2 Episode 2 in this, because let’s be real, ‘twas iconic on Sihtrics part

Summary: An oath is sworn, and a man put in his place.

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Rhaenerys Targaryen

Word Count: 2439

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: Eadred is a cunt, Rhaenerys is a bad bitch, otherwise there isn’t any major warnings here

Part 1, Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom or A Song of Ice And Fire nor do I own any of the images used. I only own my OC, Rhaenerys Targaryen.

Dividers by @arcielee and @zaldritzosrose

The next day, Guthred held a Witan, whatever that meant, in his hall and Rhaenerys stood in attendance with Ser Elwood at her side. She watched as the men bickered, the petty lords arguing with whether or not they should march to Eoferwic, claiming that they had no enemies in the city but that their lands would be left defenseless should they march with their king. The whole thing was rather entertaining to her, because she couldn’t imagine any lord in Westeros making such statements to her own father. Guthred kept speaking in that aggravating tone, the one where he was trying to portray authority but his voice kept cracking.

”Are we certain this man is actually a king and not the court jester?” Rhaenerys muttered under her breath, chuckling a little when Ser Elwood tsked at her. She glanced at him quickly and saw he had cracked a smile at her joke but was still trying to maintain a neutral expression.

She turned back to the crowd and listened as Uhtred claimed there was wealth aplenty in this city, as well as lands. Some fool in the back made a comment about women as well that had some others laughing, and Rhaenerys had to remind herself to keep her mouth shut at such a disgusting comment. Then of course Abbot Eadred gave some rousing speech about how their army was holy and they needed to liberate Eoferwic, that God is with them and so on. It did not go unnoticed by Rhaenerys that Guthred looked upset that he couldn't inspire the way the older man did. Even more interesting was the reaction from Uhtred and Guthred’s sister, Gisela. By the expressions on their faces, there was a more personal slight at Eadred’s comments.

Guthred approached her after everyone had been dismissed, his demeanor one of a man about to ask for something by beating around the bush. “So Princess, what do you think of Cumberland so far?” He asked, clasping his hands together.

She hummed, watching as the lords dispersed the hall in the early morning. “It is…very different from what I am used to,” she responded politely, wondering how long it would take him to get to his point. Blissfully, he got right to it.

”I was wondering if perhaps you might march with us? I should like to ask about your own home and perhaps discuss an alliance between our two kingdoms,” Guthred said, looking nervous despite him having been the one to reach out seeking a marriage with her. Even though she wanted to outright refuse his offer, she wouldn’t deny a certain curiosity at seeing this Eoferwic place and getting a better idea of the people in this land.

”I do not see why not, I should like to see more of this place and have my maesters archive as much as possible. Though, you understand I may not participate in any battle, yes? I cannot in good faith order my men to fight for another’s cause if there is nothing in it for them,” Rhaenerys said, laying some bait to see how he would react.

The man in front of her looked taken aback for a moment, before nodding his head and speaking once more. “Of course, Your Highness. As there is no official alliance between us, it is understandable you wish to do the proper thing. Perhaps a share of the spoils and even access to Church records? I understand you are something of a learned woman,” he spoke rather quickly, seeming a little desperate for more men in this fight.

Rhaenerys cocked a brow at Guthred before answering. “Yes, I do enjoy scholarly pursuits,” she corrected, trying not to bristle at him for his insult. She’s a scholar, equal to the men who use the title and not just a woman who wishes to learn. She shared a look with Ser Elwood, considering the offer. Nothing needed to be said between them, the subtle nod of her sworn shield all the confirmation she needed. “Very well, King Guthred. I accept your offer to march to Eoferwic and share in the win. Perhaps the journey will be enlightening for us all,” she said, knowing full well she was going to take that time learning about a certain currently imprisoned man.

Sihtric had been marched behind the wagon he was tied to, the body of Saint Cuthbert leading the procession at the front. They had only just begun the journey, stopping to make camp on the first day when he decided he needed to act. He had seen no sign of Lord Uhtred or the Princess Rhaenerys and he was not so sure Halig would get either of them without a little persuasion. He put his plan into motion the moment the nun wearing Tekils armor started approaching, the bag of heads in her hand.

”You! Girl!” Sihtric called out, only for Hild to ignore him.

“Woman!” No response.

“Warrior,” he said, sighing heavily. That got her attention, and she turned around to give him a look.

”I need to go into the woods there,” he started, Hild only arching a brow at him. “I need to shit,” again Hild only gave him an unimpressed look before turning around and continuing on her way. “I do not wish to fill my breeches!” He hollered, watching as Hild said something to Halig that had him and another man coming to take him into the woods.

Naturally they shoved him around, but he was used to it so he didn’t let that dissuade him from his plan. He dug a small hole to sell his story, Halig taking that time to ask about Dunholm fortress.

”It is tall,” he chuckled, unable to resist being snarky.

”Tell him that and you are a dead man,” Halig said with an incredulous laugh.

”Then let me speak to him.”

”He will speak to you when he is ready. He is a good man,” Halig said, the look in his eyes saying he spoke true.

Sihtric stood up, pretending like he was going to do his business and waited until the other men turned around before making his move. He was quick to knock the bigger man off his feet with the rope binding him, kicking Halig back to the ground and disarming the bigger man. Overall, the fight only lasted a few minutes, Halig and Sihtric trading blows until the Dane got the upper hand. He held the blade against Halig's throat, shouting at the other man.

“You will fetch Lord Uhtred or Princess Rhaenerys. Tell Uhtred I have his man. Now!” It didn’t take much for the man to run off, hollering for Uhtred and the Princess as he quickly made his way back to the camp. “With luck, we shall both live,” Sihtric spoke softly to Halig, not moving the blade from his throat.

He watched as a small crowd assembled, Uhtred followed by Hild and Rhaenerys flanked by her knight. Uhtred was the first to reach him, a look of fury on his face and Sihtric got right to speaking.

As Rhaenerys walked up, she overheard a conversation between Sihtric and Lord Uhtred. From the looks of it, Sihtric was trying to bargain for his life. What caught her attention, however, was the fact he was still bound and holding a sword to Halig. To say she was a little impressed would be an understatement, so she watched attentively from the sidelines.

”A life for a life, is it?” Uhtred asked.

”My life for my sword. I wish to serve either you or the Princess. I could’ve killed both of your men, but I wish to serve either you or the Princess, Lord,” Sihtric spoke, maintaining eye contact throughout the exchange.

“You are Kjartan’s man,” Uhtred rolled his eyes, not believing the young man.

Rhaenerys watched as Sihtric shook his head, the next words out of his mouth solidifying her desire to accept his oath for herself. “No. I am Kjartan’s bastard son whelped on a slave girl,” he responded.

Naturally, Abbot Eadred decided to pipe in and make his opinions known, proclaiming Sihtric a heathen and saying he should be killed while Uhtred yelled that no one should move and just let him speak. Rhaenerys looked at the Abbot curiously, wondering what he meant by the use of the word heathen since that meant something different in Westeros. Sihtric did not look like a wildling to her, he looked like a Northerner if anything. The shouting match between Uhtred and Eadred carried on for another moment before she decided to step in before they came to blows.

”Enough!” Rhaenerys commanded, stepping into an authoritative role with ease. Everyone stopped and looked at her, and she turned first to Eadred. “Perhaps you might enlighten me what you mean when you call this man a heathen, Abbot. That word has a very different meaning where I am from,” she spoke, her wrist finding its home on the pommel of Dark Sister, a habit she picked up from watching her father.

The man glared at Uhtred for a moment before facing her, collecting himself before speaking in a measured tone. “Of course, Your Highness. What I mean is this boy a pagan barbarian, he follows the false gods instead of the one true God. His people are uncivilized savages, a plague meant to be cleansed from this land by the hands of the righteous.”

She clenched her jaw, picking up his meaning instantly. She had played nice so far, but for him to classify any outside his own narrow minded views as unworthy of existing had her blood boiling and she was going to put him in his place. “Answer me this, do you think Ser Elwood here is a heathen?” She asked harshly, gesturing to the older man behind her.

”No, Your Highness. He is a good and godly man, unlike some present,” Eadred stated, cutting his eyes towards Uhtred and Sihtric.

”He is a good man, yes, but not a godly one. He follows the Faith of the Seven, a religion which worships multiple gods,” Rhaenerys gripped Dark Sister, willing herself to keep a level tone instead of throttling the fool in front of her. “Do you believe the captain of my household guard, Beren Harclay, my own mother’s cousin and follower of the Old Gods, is a heathen?”

Eadred realized his faux pas too late, his eyes widening as he prepared to back track but the look in her eyes had him answering her in a nervous manner, twisting his hands anxiously. “No, Princess. What I meant was-“

“I myself follow the Gods of Old Valyria, just like my father and grandmother,” she cut him off, her gaze hard as she practically stared him into submission. “Am I a heathen, Abbot?” She snarled, watching as the men behind Eadred shrank back a little from her tone.

”No, Princess,” Eadred answered, looking like a thoroughly chastised boy in that moment as the realization his words had insulted her and her people, thus effectively ruining any chance at an alliance between Cumberland and Westeros.

Rhaenerys took a deep breath before glaring at Eadred once more. “For a man whose faith preaches loving thy neighbor, you certainly have an interesting way of going about it,” she ground out, Eadred grinding his own teeth as he bit his tongue to prevent putting his foot in his mouth any further. She didn’t miss how Uhtred smirked a little as the man stepped back to his place beside Guthred, nor did it escape her notice that the king did not intervene.

He truly is a weak man with no backbone, she thought with a roll of her eyes, turning her head to face Uhtred. “I believe Sihtric has made his intentions clear enough. Either you accept his oath, or I will ask that he be released to me so that I might. I could use a man of his skill and knowledge, since I am clearly uninformed on the differences between this land and mine,” she said with a pointed look at the Abbot, who at least had the decency to look partly ashamed of himself.

For his part, Uhtred looked back to the bound man, his hands resting on his hips as he addressed the young warrior. “Well boy, the choice is yours. Either me or Princess Rhaenerys,” he asked, Sihtric looking between the two of them as he thought over his decision.

When Sihtric initially put this plan into motion, he did not anticipate that he would have the option to choose. Either way, he would be free from Kjartan and have the chance to lead a better life, one that would make his mother proud. He looked at Lord Uhtred, and in another life, he would’ve sworn to him. But in this one, he couldn’t pass up the chance to serve an actual princess.

“I swear my sword is yours, Princess. On Thor’s hammer, I swear,” he said, gripping the pendant he wore and kneeling in the leaf covered ground. He kept his head down, only barely looking up when he saw her boots come into his view.

”Then you have my protection, Sihtric,” she said, pulling a dagger from her side to cut the ropes binding him. Her touch was gentle, and he found himself blushing at the contact.

”Thank you, Princess, thank you. I swear I am your man from this day, until my last,” Sihtric said gratefully, relief flooding his veins when the rope fell from his wrists and onto the ground. He chanced a look at her face, rubbing the reddened marks on his skin from the bindings.

“Indeed you are,” Rhaenerys had a knowing glint in her violet eyes and a wry smile on her lips as she spoke, making Sihtric feel as though there was some deeper meaning behind her words. He stood and watched her turn, speaking to a dark haired man wearing black armor with a sigil bearing three moons, waxing, full and waning, emblazoned on the chest plate. “Captain Beren, Sihtric is with us now. See to it he is armed and armored properly as a man of my House,” she commended, the man nodding and gesturing for Sihtric to follow him.

Sihtric was quick to follow, only to be stopped by Halig when the other man gave him an unreadable stare.

’So, do you need to shit, or not?” Halig asked him, sounding rather pissed off but Sihtric just laughed it off and followed after Captain Beren, eager to prove himself worthy of Rhaenerys and her generosity.

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @gemini-mama @zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @viking-chaos

[lexyleblancc]

What a woman {Finan}

Summary: You find yourself spilling confessions in the rooms of an Alehouse. 

Ragnar x sister!reader Uhtred x sister!reader Finan x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Part 2 to “The kindness of a Dane.”

Part one

Warnings: Nothing other than Athelwold being himself 

It came to no surprise to you when Uhtred renewed his oath to Alfred once back in Wessex. It came to no surprise to you when Ragnar sent Brida ahead to gather any and all of Ragnar’s men that would answer the call. What did surprise you, was even once in Winchester, Finan never stayed far from your side. “Finan, you do know that you are free to find yourself a woman to bed while we are here? You do not have to stay with me.” You told the man who sat across from you in the alehouse. 

“Oh I’m very aware of my freedom to do so, Lady.” Finan spoke with a grin, watching as a woman passed the two of you, her eyes lingering on Finan as she did. “I’m afraid none of them have caught my interest enough.” He told you, lifting his cup with a grin. The man across from you had finally been able to properly bathe, ridding himself of any dirt caked onto his skin, and you had to admit; Finan was quite handsome. 

“Well, you’ve caught plenty of their attention.” You told the man with a small laugh, your eyes falling on an approaching figure behind the man. Ragnar sat at the table with the pair of you, a grunt leaving his lips as he made eye contact with you briefly. “What crawled up your arse and died, brother?” You quipped, a snort leaving Finan as he tried to stifle his laughter. 

“You are aware that our brother renewed his oath?” Ragnar asked, accepting the cup of Ale one of the barmaids brought over for him. You nodded your head, you were more than aware of the fact your brother has once become the King's personal lap dog. 

“I’m sure Uhtred had his reasons for it.” You told your brother. “He did kill a man of the lord.” You spoke mockingly which made Ragnar crack a small smile at your antics. 

“Will you stay with him?” Ragnar asked you quietly. 

“Do you ask as a request, or do you ask for fear of me leaving you behind?” You asked, an eyebrow raised as you set down your empty mug. 

“Both?” 

“I think Uhtred may need me for a while.” You said with a sigh. You didn’t want to leave Ragnar, in fact you wanted to join him anywhere he went. You also knew that this time around, Uhtred would need any person he could to follow him. He needed the guidance and support of his younger sister, and you couldn’t bear to leave him once more. “I do expect a welcome party when I come to visit in Dunholm.” You said with a smirk, Ragnar nodding his head in agreement. 

“I thought we were going to deal with the brothers?” Finan questioned the two of you. Your eyes drifted to the Irishman as you smiled. 

“Oh, we are Irishman.” You said with a smile. “But after we take care of those bastards we ride to Dunholm and avenge our parents once and for all.” The news of your sister Thyra being alive had only set the plan in stone. If Thyra truly was still alive, it was all the more reason to reclaim Dunholm to the Ragnarsson’s.

The three of you paid for your ale, leaving the silver on the table before making your way out of the Alehouse. You were leaving Winchester and making your way to Guthred of Northumbria. In the courtyard of the castle, Finan assisted you onto your horse, you didn’t need the help but accepted it from the man anyways. Finan mounted the horse beside you before the group departed from Winchester for the time being, leaving Gisela in the care of the King. 

Ragnar rode with Uhtred at the front of the group, while you and Finan rode behind them. You drowned out the men around you, rolling your eyes when the King’s Nephew Aethelwold spoke of finding a woman to bed soon. You noticed his eyes burning into the back of your head as he spoke those words, as well did Finan. 

“Look at her again, I dare ya.” Finan said to him, his eyes narrowing in a glare. 

“And what are you going to do if I can’t help myself?” Athelwold asked with a smirk, this gaining the attention of both your brothers. Ragnar was about to butt into the conversation but Uhtred shook his head, his eyes on the Irishman. 

“Then you best pray you don’t fall asleep tonight.” Finan’s voice was low, almost a growl. You rolled your eyes at this, but couldn’t deny the butterflies in the pit of your stomach as he defended you. Your eyes met Finan’s and you offered a small smile in thanks. Amongst all these men, you and Hild were the only two women to join them. You were a seasoned warrior, and have seen more battles than you could even count at this point but Hild was a woman of her God and a warrior as well, neither of you should require protection from one discredited heir to the throne. 

When the group stopped for rest, they ended up in Loidis, a small village. Everyone was quick to dismount from their horses, sore from the long journey. “Let me, Lady.” Finan spoke, his hands on your waist as he helped you down. 

“Thank you, Finan.” Your hips were sore from the movement of your horse, and it felt good to be on your own two feet once again. Your hand found Finan’s arm as he led the way to the Alehouse Ragnar had slipped into with Brida. You knew people would come at Ragnar’s call, if Danes were anything it was loyal to their leader. The two of you slipped into the Alehouse, while others from the group took the horses to the stables to be fed and cooled down. A small group of you stood on the sidelines, watching as Ragnar’s men exclaimed with joy at the return to their leader, a fond smile on your face. 

After the greetings had died down, rooms had been paid for, and everyone was fed until their heart's content, you found yourself sitting around a table. You were squished between Steepa and Finan. “Oh Ragnar, your woman’s got the balls of a bear. I like her.” Finan said with a smile, your eyes watching as Brida left the table, dismissing herself for the night. You sighed to yourself, no longer being able to deny the fact that your eyes had grown heavy. You steadied yourself using Finan’s shoulder as you stood from the chair you were sitting on, and bed the men around you a goodnight. 

“(Y/N), one of us will have to share a room with you.” Uhtred spoke up, his eyes on you when you were halfway to the stairs. 

“Irishman, you’re with me.” You agreed, locking eyes with Finan from your spot at the bottom of the stairs. Finan nodded his head quickly, watching as you disappeared up the staircase. 

“You won’t be touching our sister, Irishman.” Ragnar spoke, ripping Finan’s gaze from the empty staircase and to the blonde Dane. The men quickly finished their conversation, coming up with a plan to easily take care of the issue of Erik and Sigefried. When everyone was making their way to the rooms of the inn, Finan pushed the door to your room open. You were curled up on one side of the bed, furs pulled to your chin. You looked much younger in your sleep, when your brows weren’t frowned constantly, you looked peaceful. 

“Bar the door.” You whispered once Finan closed the door to the room. He almost jumped hearing your voice, he expected you to be sleeping. He made sure to lock the hatch over the door, before he started ridding himself of his armor. Your own armor was sat on a chair, your sword placed beside the bed. The man copied your actions, looking around the room and frowning at the realization that the bed you were resting in was indeed the only bed in the room. “Stop standing there like an oaf and get in bed Finan.” You grumbled, rolling onto your back so you could face the man. 

Finan could feel like blood rushing to his face as you spoke, but pulled back the furs enough for him to climb under as well. He made sure to keep to his side of the bed, laying on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. “Thank you for today, with Athelwold I mean.” You finally said, breaking the silence. Finan glanced at you slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“You’re welcome, Lady.” He replied softly, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. 

“How many times must I tell you to stop calling me Lady?” You asked. You knew that this Irishman in particular was respectful, but after weeks of traveling together you figured he would finally listen to you. 

“It’s what you are, no?” Finan hummed in response, a smile tugging at his lips. He knew you hated when he called you Lady, that’s why he insisted on it. 

“Lady of Bebbanburg, Lady of Dunholm… how much can a title like that hold when both of your brothers have no claim to their homeland?” You questioned. The two of you laid in silence for a while longer, and Finan had assumed you finally fell asleep. “Where are you from, Irishman?” You asked quietly. Finan didn’t talk about his life before he was a slave, which seemed slightly unfair since he knew so much about you now. 

“Small kingdom in Irland.” Finan muttered, memories of his homeland were nothing but painful, even after all these years. “Married a sweet Lady, only did it because her status was higher than mine… but I didn’t love her.” He told you, his voice sounded distant as he spoke. “No, I was in love with my brother's wife.” Finan said with a laugh. “She was nothing more than a milkmaid, and yet there was no doubt in my mind that I loved her… so we fled.” Finan groaned as he remembered everything he did his best to forget. “I was exiled, stripped of my titles and sold into slavery after that. That’s about when I met Uhtred.” 

You rolled onto your side to face him, offering him a tiny smile. “Would you ever go back to find her?” You asked, holding the furs tightly against you. 

“No, I would not, Lady.” Finan said with a dry chuckle. He had no reason to go back to his life before joining Uhtred and swearing his loyalty to him. “I have no reason to go back there, I enjoy my life now.” You reached out, your hand grasping one of Finan’s that rested over his chest. He squeezed your hand tightly, shifting so he could face you fully now. 

“I shouldn’t say I’m glad to hear that… but I’ve grown fond of you Irishman.” you whispered, a smile on both of your faces now. 

“I’m quite fond of you too, Dane.” Finan replied, bringing your hand up and pressing his lips to your knuckles. “Let’s save the confessions for the morning, you should rest.” The man added in, trying to let your hand go, and only smiling wider when he noticed you refuse to let it go. “If you’re not gonna let go, at least turn around.” 

You raised your brow at that, but turned on your other side to face away from the man. He grinned to himself, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you further into his chest. You only smiled to yourself at the action, closing your eyes so you could finally drift off to sleep. 

You woke up the next morning to shuffling behind you. Desperately trying to blink the sleep from your eyes you rolled over to face the man who laid behind you. “I think it’s about time we get up, my Lady.” Finan spoke, his voice still laced with sleep. You let out a groan laying your head on the man's chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

“I’m not ready to deal with everyone just yet.” You mumbled, the sound of your voice being muffled by Finan’s tunic. He couldn’t deny that he wasn’t either. As soon as you left this room you would be back on the road for God knows how long, sleeping on the forest floor, all before fighting a battle you very well may not make it out of. “Let’s discuss those confessions you were talking about last night instead.” You said, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Finan said with a chuckle. There was a big difference between Saxons and Danes. Finan most of the time would beat around the bush when it came to voicing his emotions, while you didn’t have time for that, you were blunt and spoke what was on your mind. 

“I like you Irishman, so do you plan to do something about that or not?” You asked, making Finan’s cheeks grow pink at your question. Normally he was the one approaching women, not the women approaching him. Never in his life had someone been so blunt towards him either. 

“Oh I plan to do somethin’ about it alright.” The man said with a grin, wrapping his arms around your waist and flipping the two of you. Your back met the furs as he held himself over you. “A Lady such as yourself shouldn’t want an exiled Lord.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke, making your head dizzy. 

“Then stop calling me Lady, and you and I are the same.” You retorted, nudging his nose with your own. 

“You really want to be stuck with a Christian man, Dane?”

“You want to be stuck with a Dane?” Finan grinned, you could always keep up with his quick wit and he loved it. “If the answer is yes, then do something.” You teased. As much as he didn’t want to give into you, Finan knew that would be impossible. It’d been weeks since you helped nurse him back to health, you trained with him when his hands shook under the weight of a sword, you never gave up on him. You saw the man that Finan would be when he couldn’t see it for himself. 

He inhaled shapely before connecting his lips with yours, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as he did. You were quick to respond, your arms going around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer to you. His beard tickled your skin as his lips attached themselves to your neck, making you gasp. “God woman, what are you tryna do to me?” Finan growled against your skin, his hand gripping your hip as he spoke. 

A knock on the door broke you two apart. “We meet downstairs!” The voice Uhtred called, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you while Finan looked from the door and back to you once more. You leaned forward to capture his lips once more, leaving the man dazed as you crawled out of bed and words to put your armor back on. You left the room first, leaving the man who was rushing to ready himself for the rest of the journey. 

“What a woman.” He breathed, rushing out of the room to meet the others. 

“Might I say, you do look lovely this morning (Y/N).” Finan rolled his eyes hearing Athelwold’s voice ring through the room. 

“Athelwold,” Finan spoke, wrapping his arm around you once you were in his sight. “Look at my woman again, and I’ll kill ya, you little rat.” 

Athelwold nodded his head quickly, scurrying away from the two of you while Uhtred and Rangar gave each other knowing looks. 

“Your woman?” You asked, looking up at the man who was wrapped around you. 

“Aye, my woman.” 

[warriorabbesshild]

“You speak of me so proudly. My bravery, my courage. I would do anything to keep that … to keep you close, to have ya as my own. You do not forsake God if a godly man is who you serve.”

Finan's words echoed in her mind as Hild sat beneath the old oak she had grown fond of. The corner of the estate in which it stood was within the walls, yet far from most of the action of daily activities, lending it a peaceful sense of solitude.

She missed the church in Coccham, and the daily routine that had filled her with contented peace. A life of prayer and reflection, of tending to people and caring for her friends. It was simple, but it fulfilled her.

Growing up, her father had impressed upon her, for as long as she could remember, that she would devote herself to life within the church, to worship and do God's work, as a means to repay the debt of gratitude for her survival beyond birth.

You will be a nun, Hild, my girl, to show our Heavenly Father how grateful we are that he has given you life. Your mother would have agreed, and been proud of you for doing so.

Never questioning her father's plans for her, Hild had always found comfort and happiness in the service of God. Though as the years passed, an occasional hollow ache would start to take root in her. What if I was meant for more? What if my life was meant to have taken another direction?

She would quickly push those thoughts away and throw herself into prayers and devotions for hours, sometimes days, until they stopped. Hild never dared let those thoughts progress to begin imagining a different life; there had never been dreams of marriage, of motherhood. Afterall, that was not her lot in life, even if she had wanted those things. Daydreaming of them would have been a waste of time. She was happy, she needed nothing more than what she had already been given. But regardless of the people she was surrounded by, the hollow ache started to take shape, one that she could name.

Loneliness.

Then the Danes attacked Winchester, and her world was turned upside down. The unlikely bond she formed with Uhtred soothed that ache for a time... until he was betrayed by Guthred and lost to everyone for two years.

The day she assisted with Uhtred's rescue, she was immediately taken by the spirit of the ragged Irishman, the one who, as she learned, was responsible for helping Uhtred survive. He immediately gained her respect for that alone, and as they grew closer in friendship, something else bloomed deep within her.

It was difficult for Hild to even acknowledge to herself what had shifted, and she forced herself into days, perhaps weeks, of penance and prayer, all in the hope that what she felt would go dormant.

Given Finan's flirtatious nature, she never gave his affections much thought; when he came to her those weeks ago to confess, the surprise and shock were genuine, and it shook her faith to its very foundation. Had she not tried to deny herself? Was she not following God's will in doing so? Why then was He testing her once more?

Hild looked down at the ground beneath her feet and sighed.

Two things were weighing on her now, but one of them could only be dealt with as each day passes. The other involved the young woman whose spirit and heart she would, in part, be responsible for crushing.

God, Heavenly Father above, please forgive me.

At least she had until after dinner to make up her mind.

@thedarkprinceofulaid @grlwtskulltattoo @asksihtrickjartansen

[juliets-obsession-corner]

Chapter One; Should I Touch It?

Note; I'm shitting bricks right now cause I've never done anything like this before, and it's been ages since I've written anything AND let people see it, so 🧍🏻‍♀️ im fine, everything is fine, no one panic

Warnings; no warnings but no Uhtred and the pretty boys :( just an opportunity to meet the charity and set the scene!

Word Count; 1175

🦢 🦊 🦢 🦊

"Before the stronghold at Dunholm was recaptured by King Guthred of Northumbria's army, it was in the hands of Vikings for some years. The lord there was Kjartan the Cruel, and as you can imagine, he wasn’t a kind man." The tour guide smiled thinly, "He had a son, Sven, who likely died at the battle of Dunholm alongside his father. And, as far as we know, that is where Kjartan's bloodline ended."

The tour guide took a quick glance at his watch, “Before we move on to the main attraction, I’ll give everyone a few minutes to look at the trinkets and tools that were found beneath our very feet!”

The moment the tour guide stopped recounting the history around them, Erin linked arms with her childhood best friend, Ivy. She pulled the redhead along, pointing at every object with some explanation or theory as to what everything was. Ivy held no interest in this subject, but Erin’s excited and non-stop babbling had Ivy smiling so wide, her cheeks hurt.

“This is so cool!” Erin said, “Isn’t this so cool? Do you see how old everything is! People held these things! Vikings! Saxons!” Erin pointed at some sort of handle, “Maybe a Saxon dog played fetch with that!”

“What makes you think a Saxon dog was doing that?” She laughed.

“Could have been a Viking dog, I don’t know Ivy, I just know that,” She pointed at the handle, “would have been perfect for mediaeval fetch.”

After several minutes of squabbling, the tour guide interrupted them with a clap of his hands and a knowing smile that uplifted his mouth, “Now for the main attraction…a piece of the stronghold itself!”

Ivy untangled herself from Erin, took a few steps backwards towards the rest of the tourists. “Uh huh, okay, well while you’re contemplating about mediaeval dog toys, I’m gonna go see that super special rock you keep going on about.” She teased.

The gloomy inside of the small museum was a whole different world compared to the warm comfort of the sun. It beamed down on Ivy and for just a moment, it was lovely to be out of the darkness of the museum. Unfortunately, English weather wasn't nice weather. The air turned muggy and the heat amped up and up and up until small beads of sweat gathered at her hairline. Ivy grunted.

She felt someone's arm draped around her shoulders. Already knowing who it was, she tilted her head up several inches and was met with Erin's dark eyes.

"It's too hot for contact." Ivy mumbled.

Erin ignored her as she said, “You realise that ‘super special rock’ you keep teasing me about is an actual piece of the fortress that actually stood here a thousand odd years ago.” Erin bent down to whisper as to not disturb the tour guide, “It was one of the best defended fortresses!”

Ivy hummed.

Erin squinted.

“And you know what else?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.” Ivy said.

Erin grinned, “Well, Mr Tour Guide here says King Guthred defeated the Vikings but there was never any evidence he was even at the battle, he just ordered it.”

“So? Aren’t kings just supposed to sit back, relax, grow fat and commit sins?”

“Well, Alfred The Great used to go into battle, most kings did. So, why didn't Guthred?”

Ivy shrugged.

The brunette let out a long, defeated, overly dramatic sigh, “So…aren’t you curious as to the whys, the whens, the hows, the whos?”

“I’m more interested in cutting people up and making their insides better.”

“People actually believe you’re some kind of saint,” Erin muttered, “you check all the boxes: trainee doctor, freckles, big eyes, soft spoken but you know what?”

Ivy shrugged, faux innocence in her eyes.

“You’re fucking nuts.”

Ivy laughed, and immediately covered her mouth when several tourists turned to glare. She apologised softly and made an over enthusiastic attempt to listen to the guide. The girls decided to continue their walk in silence, to avoid any more deadly stares. They walked along a large expanse of greenery. Trees loomed large in the distance, and hills dipped and curved like waves.

The tour guide stopped and the group followed suit.

“This here is the remaining stone from what is believed to be the Dunholm Fort.”

Erin squealed and dragged Ivy to the front.

And just as Ivy expected…it was rather unexceptional. It was a big lump of degraded smooth, grey stone. It was nothing to call home about, and Ivy felt guilty when she didn’t share the same awe as her history obsessed friend.

“Well?” Erin grinned.

Ivy nodded. “It’s a, uh, nice rock.”

Erin rolled her eyes. She looked back at the (seemingly) unimportant rock. If you were anyone else, no one would blink an eye to it. But Erin knew. Erin became obsessed with Viking history the moment she was told her family had connections to Ragnar the Fearless. Little five years old Erin ran around her garden, pretending she was a Viking. She screamed fierce battle cries and swung a sturdy stick at trees as if they were the enemy. She would pretend, in that imaginary world of hers, that all the kids on the playground would have been afraid if she were a Viking.

Erin stared at the stronghold piece. She kept staring even as the tour guide made it known it was time to move on. Even when Ivy made a move to join them, Erin kept staring.

Ivy turned to see if her friend had followed. Her face softened at the awe on Erin’s face. She walked back over to her side.

“It’s like if you saw the first ever notes of the bloke who invented penicillin.”

Ivy couldn’t help but laugh, ��Alexander Fleming but I get your point.”

Ivy took her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

A shy smile lifted the corners of Erin’s mouth.

“Let’s sit here and appreciate this super cool rock.” Ivy said, and brought Erin to sit with her before Erin could protest that Ivy didn’t need to do this.

Silence passed between the friends comfortably. Neither needing or wanting to say anything, simply appreciating the quiet bond that passed between them. It had taken Erin a long time to realise there didn’t have to be awkwardness in silence, although she could never muster it for long.

“Should I touch it?”

“Excuse me?”

Erin pointed at the rock. “I think I should touch it.”

Ivy examined the rock, and cocked her head. “There isn’t a sign saying you can’t touch it.”

A slow, mischievous smile slid its way up Erin’s lips. “It feels scandalous.”

“Erin.” Ivy took a breath, “Touching a rock isn’t scandalous.”

“It’s a famous rock.”

“It’s not that famous.”

“I’m gonna touch it.”

Their hands still intertwined, Erin used her free one to reach out to the rock. There was no buzz or feeling or wrongness in the action. There was nothing at all. She’d barely grazed the rock’s smooth surface when everything turned upside down.

[maybankwrites]

Killing Time (Sihtric x Edyt AU)

iv. Oral

Sihtric and Edyt find themselves spending months on end in a small room together when Guthred sells their Lord Uhtred. Bored and alone they find various ways to kill their time.

AO3

Word Count: 1643

Warning: Smut

Part Four of Killing Time. Sihtric notices that as Yule draws nearer Edyt becomes increasingly more tense. Determined to help her relax and take her mind off the people she misses in Wessex, he introduces her to a side of sexual pleasure she had yet to explore.

Edyt pulled her cloak tight around her as she stood in the open window watching as more snow fell onto the land below. She didn’t move when the door behind her opened, having seen Sihtric pass over the ridge and approach the inn. His footsteps stop just behind her, his arms encircling her waist. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she relaxed back into his embrace. 

“Right now,” she told him, still staring off into the cold distance, “priests and lords preparing are flock to Winchester.”

“To celebrate Yule?” he asked. Edyt shook her head, finally looking up at him.

“Christmas,” she responded, a fond smile finding its way to her lips, “Uhtred says your Yuletide celebrations are far more enjoyable, but I find there is nothing like spending the Christmas season with those you love.”

“You miss them, don’t you?” he asked, “The people you left behind in Wessex.” 

“Yes,” Edyt nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, “when Uhtred talked of heading north, I didn’t think it’d be for so long. Just like every year, in three days time, Lord Odda’s party shall arrive in Winchester. We always arrived before the other lords. When Aethelred was king, it often felt as if we spent more time in Winchester than we did in Devonshire.”

“Did you like Winchester?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I do,” she sighed, “Father used to complain about all the prayers. He said that prayers killed his knees, and Cenric always said it was because he was old. Every year, Eanflaed would go to the market with Father and help him pick out fabric for my new dress and Cenric’s wife would make it in the spring.”

Sihtric smiled down at her, letting her reminisce about the people she left behind.

“Aelswith would take a break from eating as her husband must and she and I would enjoy a small feast after prayers one day,” she continued, “Alfred didn’t mind, he’s normally off humping a servant girl anyways.”

“That sounds nice,” Sihtric commented. Edyt raised an eyebrow and cast him a teasing grin.

“A small feast or humping a servant girl?” she asked playfully. Sihtric laughed and shrugged.

“Both actually,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “There’s this one servant girl. I heard she worked for Lady Aelswith. Maybe she’ll be there when I travel south.”

“Oh?” she asked, playing along as she turned to face him.“I used to work for Aelswith. Tell me about your girl and maybe I can tell you if she’ll be there.”

“Let’s see, she had blonde hair and was about yay height,” he said, raising his hand level to the top of her head, before his eyes flicked downwards and he offered her a playful grin, “Great tits too.”

Edyt snorted a laugh before dissolving into giggles, hands coming up to cover her face. Sihtric grinned widely at her, sharing in her mirth. Regaining her composure, she looked up at him, attempting to put on a serious face.

“Blonde, short, great tits,” she listed, pretending to ponder.

“Extremely short,” Sihtric cut in, causing Edyt to scoff in offense, “Ridiculously tiny.”

“Barely below average,” Edyt corrected, shoving him lightly as he laughed at her. He caught her hands, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose. Edyt stuck her tongue out at him, before returning to their game. “Hmmm… I might need a little more information.”

“Well, I hear she was a dreadful healer’s apprentice, but a very skilled swordswoman,” he told her. He brought his hands to chest, squeezing her breasts lightly, as he backed her towards the bed. “Did I mention the great tits?”

“You did,” she laughed, pulling him down to kiss her. Sihtric broke the kiss, rubbing his nose playfully against her own. 

“Another thing about my girl,” he said, and Edyt hummed at the phrase, her face flushing, “is she needs some help relaxing.”

“Oh?” she asked, excitement pooling in her stomach as his fingers inched up her dress. “Are you going to help her with that?”

“I am,” he confirmed, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. His hands continued their task of removing her dress, parting the kiss briefly so he could toss it to the floor. Edyt’s hands tugged at his tunic. He pulled the unnecessary fabric over his head before wrapping her in his arms and jumping onto the bed. Edyt laughed as her back hit the furs. 

“Sihtric!” she laughed, attempting to scold him as the bed creaked beneath them. “The innkeeper is going to complain!” 

“You worry too much,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her, interlacing their fingers above her head. Edyt smiled into the kiss, her free hand cupping his face. Sihtric broke away, pressing kisses along her neck. “Just relax. ”

“I am relaxed,” she protested, gasping as he sucked a mark onto the base of her neck. He chuckled, continuing south with open mouth kisses along the tops of her breasts. 

“Not yet,” he commented, “but you will be.”

“Oh?” she laughed, “someone’s confident.”

Sihtric didn’t answer, eyes flicking up to hers briefly as he smirked against her skin. He moved lower, kissing down between breasts. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, tugging it into his mouth as she gasped. Bringing a hand to the other breast, he tweaked the nipple, eliciting a whimper from her. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive bud. Edyt’s hands gripped at his shoulders. Sihtric released her breast from his mouth, scattering kisses along her ribs. He nipped and sucked at the skin just below her breast, until he was satisfied a mark had been left. Her hips rocked as he trailed open mouth kisses along her stomach, blowing gently on the wet flesh. 

“What are you doing?” she asked as Sihtric yanked her down the bed, shifting to kneel beside it. He looked up at her, mouth moving along her inner thigh.

“Helping you relax,” he said, fingers teasing her entrance. “Just lay back and enjoy it.” 

“I-” Edyt began to protest, nerves fluttering in her stomach, before she stopped herself. She nodded, leaning back, fingers drumming against the furs at her sides. Sihtric paused, chuckling slightly at her still tense form. Edyt pouted at him, before laughing herself, “Hush! I am trying.”

“I know,” he said, resuming the task of littering her inner thighs with kisses. His fingers moved along her opening, spreading her for him as he shifted his focus. He swiped his tongue along her slit, grinning as she gasped at the unfamiliar feeling, hips shifting involuntarily. “Edyt, try and stay still for me.”

Edyt nodded in response, heart racing, lip pulled between her teeth as she looked down at him. Sihtric leaned back to her, moving up licking around the sensitive bud until Edyt was whimpering, desperate little pants coming from her. Finally, he centered on it, applying the lightest bit of pressure with the flat of his tongue. Edyt's hands clutched the furs as she moaned, his name falling from her lips. Slowly, he increased his pressure and pace as she rocked slightly. Her self control dwindled as he worked.

“Please,” she gasped, hands curling into his hair. He hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through her. His fingers skimmed up her stomach, hand closing around her breast. He squeezed lightly, before focusing in on the nipple, tugging it lightly. Edyt’s back arched, breathing becoming ragged as her orgasam built. Two of the fingers teasing her entrance slipped inside, curling immediately. 

Edyt’s head fell back, the last of her self control keeping her from clasping his head between her thighs. Sihtric increased his tempo, curling his fingers as he brought her to her climax. Her walls clenched around his fingers as her legs shook. She laid, panting for a moment as she relaxed against the furs. 

“Relaxed?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his thumb as he looked up at her. Edyt smiled at him. 

“Come here,” she muttered, still a little breathless as she reached for him. She pressed her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue. She could feel his clothed cock pressing insistently against her thigh. “You need out of those trousers.”

“I think I can manage that,” he said, sitting up on his knees to undo the lacings. Edyt looked him over, eyes trailing shamelessly down his chest. 

A cold breeze blew through the room, causing her to sit up wide eyed, arms crossing instinctually over her chest. Her face burned as she looked at the open window, suddenly very grateful that they did not face the neighboring building.

“Sihtric,” she whined, pointing at the window, before covering her face in embarrassment. Sihtric looked over and shrugged.

“What?” he asked, standing from the better and moving towards it trying to figure out what he was missing.

“It’s open,” Edyt told him, stressing the second word harshly. Seeing the confusion still on his face, she sighed, “It means everyone down below, absolutely heard me.”

“So?” he asked, grinning cheekily at her as he pressed it firmly closed.

“I-” Edyt shrugged, shaking her head, unable to find the words to explain herself. Sihtric kissed her gently, pulling off his trousers before climbing into their bed.

“Next time,” he said firmly, “I’ll make sure the window is closed, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbled, attempting to shrug off the feeling as she leaned in to kiss him again. Sihtric tangled his hand in her hair, shifting closer. Edyt pulled him down with her as she laid back in the bed, hoping he’d distracted her from her embarrassment. Sihtric pulled back, running his eyes over her naked form. Edyt couldn’t help the excited grin that overtook her as the look on his face told her he would not disappoint. 

[popcorn1989]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔟

Note: I have no idea what I was doing here. :D Maybe I'll write a second part, I'm undecided. Let me know what you think of it :)

Words: about 5447

Pairing: TLK x F!Reader x Ramsay

Summary: You are a warrior, you forgot how you ended up with Lord Uhtred, suddenly he was there and you followed him. However, your task was not only to fight, but also to heal wounds, listen to people, deliver messages and much more. You were an important part of the small group of Uhtred and you were there to protect the King of Cumberland.

"They attacked in the night, lured him to the stable. I wonder how he could fall for that" You were on your way again, the king's monks on horseback in front of you and at the very head of the crowd Uhtred and King Guthred.

"It was definitely a mistake on his part. I told you as soon as those men came that they weren't there to protect the king, was I?" You looked at Ramsay and nodded, he was a specialist in one thing, he recognized dangers when they were right in front of him. That day, you asked him to speak to Uhtred, but the two were not on good terms.

- I don't serve him - he had said and never left you alone from the day the men came. When you told Uhtred, Ramsay's concern, all he said was - We need every man - and then the subject was closed. You looked at Ramsay, who had fallen silent and was looking at his horse's ears.

"Tell me," you said in a calm voice, although you were excited and eager to find out what had happened, because that evening you were with Gisela, who had gathered a small circle of women around her and was exploring the city. You weren't really keen on that, but escorted her so that nothing happened to her.

"My Lady?" asked Ramsay, who was riding next to you. "I want to know how you got there and what happened and why he's there?" you asked and turned around briefly, Ramsay did the same and let out a derisive sigh.

Beside a cart was a prisoner, he looked exhausted, but he kept pace with the carts and never let a word escape his lips. You briefly remember Ramsay, who was once just as tied up and complained to you loudly. "Him? Such a bad decision as well" he turned back, before you turn, the prisoner looked up, your eyes meeting for a second.

"And?" you urge him to keep talking. "I just wanted something to drink when I saw Uhtred walking away alone. I asked his friends and this nun what happened, but no one knew what. You know me..." he said and briefly raised his Eyebrows.

"I just told them everything I was thinking, and at some point they probably felt it would be better if we checked. I killed two men that night and when I was about to kill that one" he pointed over his shoulder, "Uhtred yelled that we should let one live, and he chose him" he shook his head.

"So you did what he said?" you asked curiously, but Ramsay made a face, "I wanted to kill him anyway, but that guy there... wouldn't let me" he pointed to where Uhtred's friend was riding, and you started to grin. "What's his name?" you asked, looking back at the prisoner, his eyes on you as if he had been watching you the whole time. Ramsay shrugged. "I don't know, I don't care either"

---

In the evening you had reached another village, the residents were not willing to share their houses with everyone, so only the appointed king and his sister, as well as all the priests, nuns got a place in a house. So many tents were set up, a large one where Uhtred and the king conferred, yours smaller, but enough space for bed and table, was not far from the large one, the marketplace was soon full of small and large tents.

On the city wall in front of your tent, not far away, sat the prisoner by the wall. His hands already white because the rope was tied so tightly around his hands and he was tied to a ring on the wall that horses were normally tied to. Dirt and horse droppings all around him.

You still hadn't heard him speak, but Ramsay told you that he kept asking about Uhtred and wanted to speak to him. From your entrance to the tent you got a good look at him and watch him for a while, he just sat there with his hands tied at his crotch, he didn't speak, he didn't move, but he made himself small as one of the guards of the king, or rather of the monks and priests, came close to insult or kick him again.

But he didn't complain. Amazing, you thought, as you thought of Ramsay, who kept giving Uhtred's guard reason to kick him, hurling insults and threatening the dead to those who looked at him.

"My Lady" came from Ramsay, standing in front of you as if by magic. "Uhtred wants to talk to you" he said, and you looked at him in surprise. Uhtred avoided speaking to Ramsay. The day he offered you his sword, it was said that you and you alone are responsible for him.

Since that day the monks hated you, they wanted Ramsay's head for the many insults to their god, the spitting on dead monks and the contempt he showed them. Fear flooded you that day because you knew Ramsay was capable of anything, but he made it easy for you and you had no idea why he was so loyal to you. "What does he want?" you ask quietly, looking back at the prisoner.

"I don't know, maybe a round of cuddles?" You roll your eyes at Ramsay's smirk, then he appraised what you've been staring at "Do you want me to kill him?" he just asked coldly, "No" - "But then he and I will be through with it", You sigh.

"You're not doing anything, that's an order" he looked at you in shock, it was an act, you could see it so clearly, like a man pretending to pray, but he was there because of the nuns to charm them. "Nothing? Nothing at all?" he put a hand on his chest and exhaled indignantly, "Okay... find out who that bastard is" He looked at his target and nodded.

You left him alone and set off, passing the prisoners along the way. You decided to walk closer than was actually necessary. The prisoner's eyes rested on you from afar. The man sitting on a stool and charged with keeping an eye on him got up and stood in your way. "What do you want?" he asked derisively. It was wide and tall, it reminded you of a closet.

Stepping sideways, you let your eyes roam over the prisoner, he was thin, pale, his lips dry and cracked leading you to believe he wasn't getting water, his eyes were asking you something, but you couldn't make out what. Your eyes caught all of this before your vision was obscured by the broad man. "Move on, girl. Nothing for you to see here." You let out a disdainful exhalation.

"You should feed your prisoner" - "Why should I, he's only here for one reason, and that's to die as soon as possible" your eyebrows rose, and you shake your head as you set off, "My Lady ?" came a soft voice, you turn around and saw the man hitting the prisoner "Shut up" came the man loud and angry. It was time to talk to Uhtred.

---

You found Uhtred in the big tent, with the king and his priests. "Lord" it came from you loudly and firmly, because everyone was talking excitedly and only willingly they stopped and looked at you. You had to hold back your laughter every time you saw the face of Abbot Eadred who hated you for saving Ramsay.

"You wanted to talk to me, Lord," you say, and see Uhtred nod. "Wait outside I'll be right there" Now you nodded and did what he said. But as it had already entered your head when you heard this sentence, it lasted a long time, and you wished for nothing more than your thick, soft blankets and rest, it was getting darker and darker and so it was also getting cooler.

You rubbed your hands together and heard the angry voices in the tent. But you didn't want to disturb them again, so you just hoped for a speedy redemption. You looked across the marketplace and saw Ramsay standing by the prisoners, but it was too far away to see his face or hear what the rascal was doing. The big man was arguing with his arms and head and the prisoner looked from one to the other, it seemed like he was grinning, but you weren't sure.

And then what you had imagined happened, Ramsay was pushed, didn't put up with it and soon a scuffle ensued. You close your eyes and squeeze them tighter, but when you open them again, Ramsay was almost by you.

His lip was bleeding, and he wiped it with his glove. How could it be over so quickly, you missed it, and you raised your hands questioningly, but he just started laughing. "That guy there is Leoandrik, Leo in short, is tall but has no ego, I just had to experience it myself" he laughed again and looked around at the tall man, who kicked the poor prisoner.

"He's a real asshole, the guy didn't do anything, he didn't even flinch, if I were him, I would have cheered" Now you're grinning, that was typical Ramsay. "My lady, you gave the order, I carried out, shall I kill him?" - "No, not necessary" you say, when Uhtred finally left the tent, Ramsay just nodded and left without another word.

"Keep an eye on him" came from Uhtred, who watched after him, "What should I do? Tie him to my leg, so he can't go anywhere alone?" Uhtred's eyes wandered to your "if need be"

You were about to say it wasn't necessary, but the words stuck in your throat as the king and priest walked past you. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," said the king, who grabbed Uhtred's shoulder and shook him before walking on. You didn't like them at all, but they hate you more. Uhtred waited as if he didn't want anyone to hear anything, only then did he speak.

"They want to kill the prisoner, probably because he's a Dane, or just because he's breathing, I think it's fear they have." You nod, they wanted to kill Ramsay as well, but maybe they were justified, you thought about who Ramsay would kill if you wanted to. "I want you to talk to him" - "With the priests?" you ask, surprised and about to say no immediately, but Uhtred shook his head "With the prisoner, find out who he is, where he really comes from, what his intentions are, everything" he paused

"And what he wants from me. I hear, all the time, his pleas, that he wants to talk to me." You liked that, it was exciting to find out something like that and somehow, you liked that you had something to do. "What about the guard?" you ask curiously, not knowing how to do it with that big man around him. "Tell him you have orders to take care of him. Have Ramsay stand by and scowl, or play with knives" you gave him a puzzled look.

Then he grinned, "It's my prisoner, say the order is from me, no one will forbid it" You nod, that was your task, questioning another prisoner, but it seemed easier to you, because this man wasn't like Ramsay, it was a difference between day and night. "What if the king objects?" you ask cautiously. "Let that be my concern, I'll talk to him, he has no opinion of his own, He's like a sheep that you push back and forth, unable to fight back"

Sheep? That was what you were looking for, the difference between the two, one the wolf, the other a sheep. You didn't think the prisoner was a wolf, he looked too shy for that. "What do you think?" you asked now and got a questioning expression from Uhtred, "Do you think he's dangerous?"

It took a while, then he shook his head, "That's why I chose him, he seems like someone who's lost. He wasn't like the others, I saw how they treated him, and he wasn't as eager to attack me as the others were about it." He put a hand on your shoulder, "I know you can recognize a good man," he said, wishing you good night.

You weren't so sure about that, Ramsay was still alive, and only because he gave you his sword for his life, but so far you haven't regretted it.

---

The next day, with your orders from Uhtred, you decide to start. But first you look for Ramsay, one of the monks said letters had arrived.

And you hoped that you would get messages, mostly he took the letters. You were not a famous woman, nor very rich, but you had a small farm that you loved and where your family live.

You found him in the tavern holding an open parchment.

"Ramsay" you nod as he looks up "My lady, not great news, your homestead is still standing, people are trying to bring in income. But…" He looked at the letter again, "Church members are gathering and asking if you ever return home"

It was typical of them that when they saw some land to get rich on, they took the slightest impulse to grab it. But you didn't worry too much because your brother was in charge when you weren't there. She would hope in vain to get the land.

"Always the same with those bastards," you said softly, because many of the priests had gathered here in the morning. Again you nodded and wanted to leave, "What are you doing now, my lady?" asked Ramsay, who had stood up and was putting the letter in his pocket. "Take care of the prisoner".

This time it was Ramsay who nodded, "Maybe you should think about doing it quickly" he had only been here to annoy the priest with his presence. But he didn't follow, he grinned cheekily and sat down again. You get some herbs from the village healer and give her a piece of silver in return.

In your tent you found the other materials you need, bowl, cloths, a tincture for small wounds. What else did you need? "This prisoner shall not be your concern" you recognized that he was a monk by the raised voice and this touch of politeness, you didn't even have to turn around for that.

"Uhtred gave me the order and I will carry it out. Besides, it's his prisoner, you only made it your mission to watch over him." The man groaned, and you turned around abruptly, the dagger in his hands falling to the ground, blood poured from his open mouth as he fell to the ground. And Ramsay appeared behind him, a bloody knife in his hand.

"I knew it, but...." he wiped his weapon clean on the monk's cloak. You looked at the dead man's wide open eyes in shock. "Ramsay!" - "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, I've been keeping an eye on the weasel the whole time. I knew that he was up to something when he followed you out of the traverse to the healer, by the way he already drew his dagger there, but thought better of it. Until here..."

You couldn't believe it, you knew that the priests and monks hated you as well as the king's apt, but that? But the only thing you could say was "You killed him, that'll never be…they'll figure it out" He smiled evilly and shook his head "Let me do it" He tapped his temple "I've got a plan. And besides... he's not a priest, he's a Dane they hired."

Suddenly you knew that Ramsay was to be taken with a grain of salt, not only was he cunning he had eyes and ears everywhere, but he probably saved your life. "Ah, Ah, don't say anything and as for the prisoner, you should tell Uhtred to kill him immediately." You narrow your eyes and shake your head.

You had no idea why he wanted to get rid of the prisoner so quickly, but he didn't seem to think about it for a minute, since he was himself standing in his place.

He clearly didn't look happy with your answer, but nodded that he understood. You walked towards him "I can't protect you if this gets out" you spoke softly, and again he nodded "It won't get out" he was so sure of it that you just said "Get him away"

---

On the way to the prisoner, who again looked at you from afar with his big round eyes. It sent shivers down your spine, knowing you couldn't tell Uhtred about what had happened.

The priests tried to kill you, every step you took was watched by them, you didn't know why this country was full of them, no matter where you went, you met monks and priests and behind each of them you had to look for dangers eighth, they were the real danger of this country, not the Danes.

You sigh as the big man named Leo stood up and stood in front of you menacingly. "I have orders to take care of the prisoner, the order comes from Uhtred" you said and saw the prisoner rocking back and forth excitedly. "And I have orders to watch over him and let no one near him, orders of the king"

Rather the monks, you thought briefly, and wanted to pass him, but he pushed you back with one hand. "Leave her alone" said the tied man and lay hard on the ropes. Leo looked at him menacingly.

"Hurt him, and I'll notify Lord Uhtred, and he'll tell the king. And he listens to him, so let me do my job, I don't want to sit here in horse shit and talk to an unimportant man either."

Your words were so harsh that Leo took a step away from you, you were amazed that your words had such an impact, but Leo looked past you and you turned around. The Apt stood behind you "Nice to see you so… alive" he said sneakily, you could hear that he was angry about the failed ambush.

He didn't hide it, it annoyed you, but you didn't show it. "I have…." - "I know, let her do her work…" he said angrily to Leo "And make sure she doesn't do anything stupid", those were his last words before he gave you another glared and disappeared.

Leo had bowed like the apt would be a king, but he left you alone. You went to the prisoner, and he looked at you expectantly, but you had to disappoint him. You took his chin in your hand and examined his chapped lips. "Are you thirsty?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hungry?" you ask when Leo intervened "He doesn't get anything, he's doomed to die anyway, the negotiations will show today" You roll your eyes "I don't care, he's human and only that, I see" - "This is a waste of resources", said Leo, "Then he gets mine" the prisoner smiled at you.

"Then you are stupid" was all that came from the big man. You looked at his hands, which were very pale, you stroked his fingers "Do you notice that" - "No, my lady" You put your bag down next to him and crouched down, with both hands you tried to loosen the ropes a bit, but they were tied tight.

"Make them a little looser" you asked Leo, but he just snorted contemptuously. You looked around to see if you saw anyone as Ramsay walked up the path, a satisfied expression on his face, he came as soon as you called his name, "You know about those knots?"

"What are you doing there?" Leo asked and grabbed your hand when Ramsay pulled on one of the ropes. The prisoner moved his hands and fingers to pump blood into them. "You should let her go, big man," Ramsay said, looking at Leo.

"I'll report that," he said when he released you. "Fine, if you're already on your way, then you should stay there." Ramsay didn't look at Leo but at Sihtric, who returned his gaze, and both had a fixed expression on their faces.

"I'm not going anywhere" Leo said and now Ramsay grinned and got up to look the man in the face. "And how do you want to report? If someone comes here, you will have forgotten everything again, your brain is not the best I heard."

Leo went into attack position, and before it escalated you had an idea, "Ramsay, get something to eat. And something to drink… lots" Ramsay looked from you to the man sitting next to you and hadn't taken his eyes off him. But he nodded.

He grinned invitingly at Leo again before walking past you and stopping, "Wine, ale or water?" - "Water" you said, drowning out the ale from the prisoner, who then looked at you and smiled. "Not that I don't begrudge you that, but I'm sure you haven't had a drink for a long time"

"Nothing since my imprisonment" Startled, you looked at Leo, who shrugged his shoulders. "Five days, I've seen men who lasted longer, and I offered him something" he pointed to a bucket and grinned. "Pee is not what a body needs to survive," you said sourly.

---

You took care of the prisoner without a word. You didn't want him to think you were spying on him. His wounds weren't bad, a cut on his arm probably from Ramsay's dagger, a cut in his lip from the dryness. Some bruises.

Ramsay came with a large piece of fresh bread and a jug of water. Leo was causing trouble and snatching the bread from his hand, Leo and Ramsay had a scuffle, but Ramsay won and Leo was asked by one of the monks to come along. To your surprise, Ramsay followed them, but you didn't stop him.

Now you sat here, watching how the prisoner greedily drank down two cups that you put in his hands. "What's your name" - "Sihtric, My Lady" You're just trying to chat, most of the prisoners were ready to talk because they could finally talk to someone.

"Where are you from?" Your fingers ran over the large scar on his forehead and he stopped eating. "Dunholm" he looked you in the eyes, "I am the bastard of Kjartan. He gave me this scar" You nod, you know that many bastards get this scar so that one recognizes them. That was the custom of the Danes.

You got up and took the stool Leo used to sit on and placed it in front of Sihtric, slowly you sat down. "He…" he wanted to say something, but he just shakes his head. "Would you like something else?" you asked, nodding towards the jug. "Why are you so nice to me?" you raised an eyebrow, questioningly.

"No one was ever nice to me" You thought briefly about his words. Uhtred told you that he saw how the men treated him. "Your mother must be nice to you" he wanted to bite off the bread but let it sink "She died" - "I'm sorry, how? ", you asked cautiously, "Kjartan killed her when I was a boy, she was a slave" You noticed that he never - my father - said. "I can hardly remember her"

You nod, "It's okay to be sad" - "Yes, but I've learned to deal with it and not to show it" he looked at you seriously now and for a moment you thought back to Ramsay, talking to him was different, you didn't have that feeling protective of him, but Sihtric? You pondered Uhtred's words like a lamb. Sihtric was like a lamb.

He seemed nice, soft, and probably had a shitty life up until now, and now he's about to die. "Kjartan ordered you to join us with the men?" you asked now, He's probably figured out by now that you're not here to chat with him.

"I'll tell you anything you want, my lady. But promise me you'll ask Uhtred if he talks to me" - "Why does he want Uhtred dead? Why does he send you and not come himself" he laughed

"This army here is bigger than his, he's scared. He sent me because he can do without me. Maybe he's heard that I'm still alive and is sending someone to kill me. He wants Uhtred because he's stands in his way, he fears him. Him and his vengeance, and I have no pity on Kjartan"

You nod, "Please talk to him. Tell him I never wanted that attack. I didn't mean to kill him, kept my head down and was just fighting for my life. I want to serve him!"

His voice grew stronger with every word, after such a long silence it took a while for his voice to regain its normal strength. "My Lady?" he asked after a long silence, letting you think, but it seemed like he didn't want to wait any longer. "I'll try" you promised and got up. "My Lady!"

You turned to him. "Don't trust him," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Whom?" - "Ramsay" You looked at him thoughtfully, then he continued eating his bread. He wouldn't say anything more in response, not even when you asked what he knew about him. Not a word passed his lips.

---

It took you three days to continue on your way, you had been looking after Sihtric for those three days, because Leo had disappeared without a trace. And the monks wanted to uncover his disappearance. You talked to Sihtric and the two of you soon got on well together.

"Sven is your brother?" - "Yes, but he and I never got on well" - "Why did you stay there?" - "I only had them, a man who serves no one is a lost man" your conversations went on into the night for you decided to bring him to your tent, there he sat on furs and talked about himself.

You spoke to Uhtred every time you knew something new, but still he wouldn't talk to him "There's time, I've managed to convince the king to take him with us until I know what to do with him" you nod "What do you think? Is he a sincere man?" you nod again. You let Sihtric know that he wasn't going to die anytime soon, and he seemed relieved about that.

Leo was found on the second day. He was lying in a ditch outside the village, covered in cuts. There were no clues as to who had done this to him, however, after another day Uhtred decided that it must have been robbers. You, on the other hand, could not shake the feeling that Ramsay must have had something to do with it. He denied it, but his broad grin made him seem incredulous.

Nobody asked about the assassin who wanted to kill you, and you decided not to ask Ramsay where he had left the body. You gave him orders like, watch the apt or find out what happened next, only for him not to be with Sihtric, the two of them always just looking at each other for a long time, as if one would attack the other immediately.

"Do you know Sihtric?" - "No My Lady, but he seems weak to me, he should not stay alive" - "That is not your decision. And you are alive too, was that perhaps a wrong decision?" you asked Ramsay one evening. "That's your decision," he said.

"We'll rest here," said Uhtred, pulling you out of your thoughts. He had told his friend Halig to look after Sihtric. Hild and you were gathering wood to make a campfire for the men. The king had sent some men out to hunt. The food always ran out so quickly, it always amazed you.

"I'll take this to the camp," she said, leaving you alone. "Can I help?" asked a familiar voice. "Of course Ramsay, take this to camp" you said, throwing the branches into his arms. "I get the feeling you're avoiding me, or don't want me to be with you".

"That's nonsense, it's just that the days have been very busy and each of us has had things to do" you said, lying of course, but what could you have said? I trust Sihtric, and he told me not to trust you? You didn't know why, but his words carried a lot of weight with you.

"Is there anything else I can do?" he asked as you placed more branches on his arms, you shook your head. He was about to turn around when there was a flurry of activity in the camp, and he looked at you questioningly. "Come with me," you said to him, and he dropped the wood and ran after you.

The crowd stood together, and you pressed forward, so you could see what was happening. Ramsay laughed as you both realized what was going on. Sihtric stood in front of the crowd, a sword to Halig's neck, he looked at you uncertainly as he spotted you in the crowd.

Uhtred just asked his name and Sihtric, said everything he had said to you. "He will die," Ramsay said when he saw the angry monks. There was a mess, the priests were for Sihtric's head, but Uhtred was against it. For Sihtric spoke the words you had heard from Ramsay. "My sword for my life"

He looked from Uhtred to you and was about to say something, but you just shook your head and he lowered his eyes. Uhtred asked him to drop the sword. You saw Sihtric hesitate, but he did. Tensely, you watched Uhtred and the priests, who began to grumble loudly as Uhtred welcomed Sihtric. You exhale in relief, but hear an indignant groan from Ramsay.

Halig picked up the sword angrily and asked "Do you have to shit or not?" he only got a grin from Sihtric and angrily he made off. Your eyes met, and you nodded to each other, now he was a free man serving a lord. His fortunes had turned.

---

In the evening, you sat with Ramsay in your tent. "Bad decision," he muttered, "So far, Uhtred has done everything right, not everything, but a lot," you said, when Sihtric came into the tent, he nodded, "Ramsay" - "Sihtric" he just replied "I'll get something to eat" he said and left without looking at you, he rammed Sihtric with his shoulder. But he just grinned as his gaze wandered to you.

"So, you are now one of Uhtred's men" he nodded proudly, "Why? I mean, why did you want that so badly?" you asked, because you hadn't heard everything, many of the priests were standing around you, and they were so loud, that you hadn't noticed much.

"I don't belong to Kjartan and never will be. I want to serve a real lord, someone who is strong and wise," he explained to you, and you smile at his words. "But for a moment I thought… I was going to die"

"I thought so too" he swallows at your words. "You know he's going to kill Kjartan?" he nodded, "And I will help him no matter what" - "You can do it just like that?" again he nodded. "I'm glad you're with us" honest words on your part. He smiled. "I wanted to say thank you"

You looked at him questioningly, "Why?" - "You saved my life. Without you, I would have died of thirst. You spoke to me even though I was a prisoner. You…." he stopped and looked down "You made me feel like a human being" puzzled, you look at Sihtric "But you are"

He said nothing to it "I will protect you, I am one of Uhtred's men, I will carry out his orders, but I will also protect you. You… you mean something to me" You didn't know what to say to that, but you smile at your opposite.

"Ramsay isn't what he says he is" Abruptly, your smile left you. "And I will kill him if I have even the slightest suspicion that he wants to hurt you." He was so serious that you believed every word he said.

"I swear" were his last words, he bowed to you and left the tent. Men swore to give weight to their words, to make what was spoken true. Again, you thought of the lamb and the wolf and ...

the question was, can a lamb kill a wolf?

[ivarthebadbitch]

male character archetypes, tlk edition

(this is not an exhaustive list or actual serious analysis, don’t come after me if I missed your fave. special thank you to @volvaaslaug as always)

in order from least to most stereotypically masculine, we have:

the saxon failboy. examples: aethelwold, young odda, aethelred, eardwulf, edward. a disappointment to their fathers. either short and kind of ugly/unconventional-looking, or suspiciously pretty. may be undersexed/sexless (young odda, eardwulf), oversexed (aethelwold), or outright rapists (aethelred).

the tricksy dane. examples: guthred, sihtric. can use their tricksiness for good or evil. primary candidates for accusations of betrayal. look like they weigh 100 lbs soaking wet. bags under the eyes are a MUST.

the slightly effeminate saxon intellectual. examples: alfred, osferth, aldhelm. bunch of fucking politics/religion nerds who get horny for nationalism. skinny and pallid and somewhat delicate-looking, yet still manly enough to lead an army/fight in a battle.

the emotionally available surrogate dad. examples: beocca, ragnar the elder. friendlier and more open than the stern emotionally unavailable actual dad (see below), yet still appropriately manly, i.e. not TOO emotionally available.

the emotionally unavailable actual dad. examples: odda the elder, aethelhelm, aelfric. must have a neatly trimmed beard and a perpetual scowl/look of disgust, especially for their disappointing offspring.

peak male performance. examples: uhtred, finan. ruggedly masculine, yet pretty and well-groomed enough to not tip over into, um, surly warrior daddy territory (see below). kind of homoerotic vibes. women frequently want to fuck them for some reason.

the soft boi dane. examples: erik, ragnar the younger, sigtryggr. not like the other danes! slowly figuring out that murder is not the answer to every problem in life, only some of them.

gruff but good-hearted faithful warrior daddy. examples: leofric, steapa, clapa. the big lads, the largest of the large adult sons. incapable of wearing anything but full armor at all times, regardless of the occasion. their insults are  crude yet affectionate. doomed to die in faithful service to their king/lord.

violent barbarian dane. examples: skorpa, ubba, sigurd bloodhair, sigefrid. mostly stupid and superstitious, but capable of a certain low cunning. main hobbies are arson, torture, random murder. may be ugly as fuck.

[cibs]

Part 4: “I got wounds to lick in life”  Rating: Mature Previous part Next part Pairings: Finan x OC, Uhtred x Gisela x OC

Randwulf was a happy baby, Hranni soon found out. She spent the week after his baptism recovering, while Uhtred and his men met with the real lords of Eoferwic, some other Danes called Sigefrid and Erik who had then lost the city, but she stayed out of the going ons of the small army. Her information had been wrong, and they currently resided in Cumbraland as Guthrum's forebears had also lost the city. So was the way of things.

Beocca had returned to Winchester not long after the baptism, but left a small, smooth wooden cross as a gift for Randwulf before he left. Hranni had tucked it into her bundled cloak for safe keeping.

Whenever Gisela wasn't busy with Uhtred, of whom the latter had graciously accepted her apology, she was with Hranni. It was not long after morning when the pair sat together as Gisela helped Hranni plait her long hair back into a single, tight braid. Hranni was sitting back, listening to Gisela gush about their dear lord as Randwulf napped when she paused to gather a loose lock against her neck.

"That is a beautiful tattoo, is it Eikthyrnir?"

Hranni touched the tattoo, having not thought of it for so long. Her favorite tales as a little girl were of Eikthyrnir, the mighty stag who stands over Valhalla and from whose horns drip water so the warriors there may never go thirsty. The tattoo reached up the front of her throat and stopped right before her chin, depicting the foliage of Yggdrasill through lines and runes, and farther down her neck it spread out into the antlers and body of the stag, of which trailed down to the skin above her chest. Most of the Saxons she had met had only seen her throat and a bit of her chest, but it was meant as a wedding gift between husband and wife.

"Yes, my husband was an artist."

If Gisela took notice of her mention, she did not show it. "Was that his trade? You haven't talked of him, I was worried it was too much."

"He knew enough, and don't worry. I did not love him as my parents loved each other, but we were friends. Everyone in Gyrwum, my town, were shipbuilders first before anything else."

"I'm glad to hear you knew kindness in your husband. It is beautiful, truly." Gisela just finished the braid when the pair heard shouting from outside.

Alarmed, Gisela looked out the wooden slats and gasped in shock.

"They're taking Uhtred!" Her face was full of confusion and anger. "Come, I cannot let them take him."

Hranni nodded and picked up the sleeping Randwulf before following Gisela out of the keep. There was still much shouting as Uhtred screamed at Guthred as he was being dragged and Abbot Eodred spoke some nonsense above the noise. She spied Sihtric, Hild, and the bald Dane, Clapa, on the other side of the courtyard who quickly made their way over to the pair.

"What are they doing?" Gisela demanded, and went to move forward before Sihtric held an arm out to stop her.

"Guthred has betrayed the lord and means to sell him into slavery." He said quickly.

"Gisela, this isn't safe, we have to go." Hranni said, shocked as she watched Uhtred and his Saxon friend Halig be loaded into the back of a caged heart. She felt a wave of grief wash over her as she looked onto his pained face. It was a fate she knew well, and she doubted it would end the same way.

There were only a few tears on Gisela's face as the group silently watched their lord be taken away. "I, I don't know-" she took a deep, shuddering breath before composing herself, "I can't believe… my own brother."

"I tried to stop him," Hild said. "Guthred made a deal with Aelfric at the cost of Uhtred's head, but he thought slavery the same sentence."

Hranni saw a leech of a man, a monkey named Brother Trew, who she knew as Eodred's dog in her short time here. With her free hand she grabbed Gisela by the arm and started to pull her back to hide behind the taller men.

"Guthred didn't decide by himself, lady, we have to go." Hranni insisted.

"Aelfric asked for her," Hild said slowly, as she must be working Guthred's plans through her head. "I'll delay him as much as I can and go to Winchester for help. The king owes him too much for this."

With that, the warrior nun was off to divert Trew before he could get to the group.

Gisela came back to herself a little then. "Sihtric, Clapa, go wait by the back gate for us. We'll be but a moment." She ordered the two men and they obeyed with a curt nod.

Gisela gripped Hanni's hand and quickly led them back into the hall before any of Guthred's men noticed them slip away. Once inside, they went to her rooms where Hranni grabbed two cloaks and another blanket for Randwulf, still oblivious in her arms. Gisela busied herself pulling ink and parchment out, scribbling a quick note and letting it dry enough before she folded it down.

Hranni put her own cloak on, much nicer and thicker than her last borrowed one, as Gisela did the same.

"How do you feel about nunneries?" She asked, almost huffing the words out as if she were cracking a joke.

"Better than here at the moment." Hranni replied.

Gisela grabbed nothing else and led them down through a different hall, and out to another gate where Clapa and Sihtric waited. Luckily, no one else around seemed to notice or care. Hranni threw her hood up to obscure her face anyway and tucked Randwulf closer to her chest. She and her son were worthless to Guthrum's plans and she knew it, but she'd damn anyone who would harm Gisela and Sihtric to an icy hell.

"Sihtric, I know you are loyal to Uhtred. Give this to Hild so they know where to find us." Gisela passed her note to him, to which he tucked it away in his armor.

"Yes lady, of course."

"I'll get you where you need going and be back here before they know we've gone." Clapa said with restrained anger in his voice. Hranni did not know the man well, but his loyalty to Uhtred was clear, and she was thankful for the big bear of a man. "There's horses waiting in the camp outside that won't be watched, we can grab them and go."

Gisela nodded, and as Clapa hurried away and her now lady followed, Hranni turned to Sihtric.

"Please stay safe." She pleaded. "This isn't done yet."

"The same to you, Hranni," Sihtric said reassuringly, but his voice was tight. The betrayal pulled deeply at him too.

“Get down here,” Hranni did not want to leave him, and Sihtric dutifully leaned down to her so she could press a gentle kiss to his cheekbone before turning to follow after Gisela.

That was how they had ended up at a nunnery in Epchester, and the last time Hranni saw Sihtric for the next two years. The abbess there, Wanna, asked no questions of the two Dane women and baby seeking shelter. She offered them security for as long as they needed it, and only required they participate in the chores and duties befitting a novice.

The first week there, the women shared a cot in the novice’s quarters until another space could be made, Randwulf in a cot close by. The babe quickly became a favorite of all the women there, much to Hranni’s pleasure as she now had the wisdom of many in raising him. It was odd, she found, sharing such a close space with another after so long fearing what would come in the night. Even in the following years, whenever a memory stirred up, Gisela said nothing when she would join her in sleep during the night.

Abbess Wanna surprised Hranni during their time there, and the guiles of the Christians snuck up on her. After the first half year, Wanna came to her one day and offered her an old, tarnished silver cross inlaid with protection runes on the back.

“This came from a Norse woman who converted, and came here to find God as her days neared the end. I fear you will always be set apart from Saxons because of those tattoos on your neck, so clearly marking you as a Dane. But God does not care, and neither do any of the Saints.” She was an old woman, with thin white hair and a scratched out voice. But she spoke with kindness, and came to Hranni every day to talk. It was like she loosened the stitching in Hranni’s mind that had tightened to the point of breathlessness. Even when her nightmares fixated on Katla, Sihtric, and wherever Uhtred had found himself to be, her days were filled with prayer and honing her weaponscraft again.

When Hranni tucked her necklace of Thor’s hammer away into her belongings and started wearing that old cross, Gisela only hugged her tightly and said, “It’s nice to meet you again.”

Randwulf grew fast, talking, walking, and endlessly spoiled by all the women. She trusted Gisela and the others so much now with him, he was the most precious thing in her world. The only point of contention those two years was a drunk Saxon who tried to kidnap one of the young novices, taking her from their apple orchard in the early hours of the morning. Hranni took off after them without a word and armed with a kitchen knife. The man did not even notice her until the knife was cutting ear to ear. It was only right, she reasoned. The girl returned safely, and Hranni buried the man herself after divesting him of armor and sword, of which she mended to fit herself.

It was high summer when Hranni and the Abbess were outside weeding their herb garden when the old woman spied a group of men making towards the nunnery from the road.

Hranni spotted Abbot Eodred, thinner after the years, but the Abbess already sensed the change in the air as the men came forward.

“Ah, I’ll go see what they want, and you go take care of your Sister.” Wanna creaked out, and pushed herself up slowly before walking slowly up to the men on horseback.

They had prepared for this, just in case. Hranni walked casually back to their quarters, where Gisela and a few other women were preparing lunch. “Gisela, it’s time.”

Gisela nodded, and set down her items, “I’ll wait for you.”

In case this was to happen, the two women found a spot in the woods their first year to be set as a hiding place, and only the two knew where it was. They ran through this many, many times, but even so Hranni passed her sharpened dagger to her friend before she could go. “Remember, between the ribs, like we practiced.” “Of course, can’t let you have all the danger now.” Gisela laughed, and was off.

Hranni huffed out a nervous breath as she watched her go. A clatter of men’s voices sounded from beyond the kitchen then, and she prayed they were all inside and too busy to see Gisela sneak out.

“Sister Gisela?” She heard Wanna’s voice call out from the front. Now this was the real test for her.

Hranni ushered in as much calm as she could summon, and with a slight smile on her face walked out to the front room.

“Yes, Abbess?” Hranni asked, stepping in beside the woman as Abbot Eodred, and Brother Trew she saw, raked their eyes over her.

“Sister, these men and Abbott Eodred asked for any visiting women and as our newest initiate, I thought you might be the woman they were asking for.” Wanna offered kindly, gesturing towards the group.

“Gisela? Your name is Gisela?” Eodred stepped forward. He looked angry, lips tight and his teeth grinding whenever his mouth closed.

“Yes, Abbott. After my grandmother.” If they recognized her, she did not show it. She thanked God she put on a scarf to wrap around her hair and neck that morning. It was far too distinctive, and even though they ignored her those years ago it was still too much a risk.

“Daughter of?” He questioned. He seemed more bothered than anything, to be so close to his quarry but so oblivious of the real situation.

“Hemmingr.”

Brother Trew seemed to ignore her completely then, and as Eodred questioned Wanna further about strange women, he waved Hranni off, completely uninterested in her. She stepped back and overheard Eodred asking to search the nunnery and the grounds.

While Wanna tried to pacify the man, Hranni noticed the door pull open and standing in the entry was a man she thought to be dead. Her eyes shot open in recognition as the rest of the Abbot’s men turned to look. Unfortunately, Eodred only turned to her, his face turning into a sickening sneer.

“Seize her,” He ordered, and one of his guards who stood behind Hranni grabbed her by the back of the neck as Uhtred entered the room.

[jade-masquerade]

Simply Stricken

Written for @tlkfanficfest 2020 Round 2 for the prompt “Stiorra/Sigtryggr and their first kiss”

Stiorra sighed, the book in front of her no longer holding her attention. There were only so many dusty old tomes full of endless burh descriptions and donations made to the church and counts of barley yields she could read, and she glanced away from the words that had long since begun to blur together.

 Instead, her eyes wandered to the most interesting part of this dull, drab room: Sigtryggr himself.

 After Eardwulf had barged through those doors and she’d spent days listening to Brida demanding her head and all sorts of her body parts in turn, Stiorra had admitted in a moment of weakness that she felt safer with him here, and he’d spent as much time in here with her and the books and table games as outside training with swords and shields ever since.  

 She knew she should have hated him. She knew that she should have been angry and afraid. She knew he was dangerous, that he had killed. But so have Father and his men, whispered that conspiratorial voice she fought often these days. Maybe it was her mother’s strength or her father’s impetuousness, but Stiorra found she couldn’t muster a semblance of fear or ire anymore, at least not when they were here alone like this.

Once she’d been certain he hadn’t intended to harm her, she had asked if she was free to go. He insisted she was if she wished, her chambers evidently not well guarded if Eardwulf deep in his cups had managed to stagger served as proof enough of that. In that moment, though, she’d realized the entire city was full of men like that waiting beyond these walls, with nothing better to occupy their time than drinking and whoring and fighting in the streets. Besides, it was far better here than out there where she imagined Brida sat contemplating a thousand ways for her to die, and if she waited here, Stiorra knew somewhere deep down that her father would come for her. And until then, the stories Sigtryggr told were far more fascinating than listening to children whining or watching Finan and Sihtric playing dice for the thousandth time.

 Sigtryggr was an odd sort of Dane, Stiorra had to admit. He strangely seemed to have taken as much of an interest in scrolls and her stories as the sprawling palace and the chests of silver they had gathered from Winchester’s stores. Sometimes he would bring an object—a relic from the chapel, a platter with a verse inscribed upon it, a painting of a saint—from somewhere in the castle, or something to occupy himself, polishing his boots or scabbard, weaving together a hempen rope, the kind of work she’d expect a handmaiden to do, not a warlord, and he would sit and listen to what she had to say, whether it was telling him about the beliefs of the Christian faith, talking about her childhood, or teasing him about if Winchester had turned out to be all he dreamed. He entertained all sorts of her questions in turn, about his homeland and Irland and the sea and all he’d seen along the way, and she couldn’t help but be drawn into his tales of the world beyond the walls of Saltwic and Coccham.

 And she wasn’t blind either, regardless of what Brida threatened. It hadn’t escaped her attention that Sigtryggr was rather handsome, with his long hair and his armbands, clad in functional leather rather than a cape embroidered with gold or jewelry that served to do little other than belie exorbitant wealth. He looked so different from the shorn haired Saxons she’d been raised alongside, and perhaps most importantly, also unlike them he clearly washed.

 “Are you overcome with admiration?”

 She shook her head when she realized she must have been staring. “No. I’m bored.”

He smirked. Then there was that, too, those smiles that would have surely bewitched her in an instant had she been a weaker woman. “So I’ve heard.”

 She rolled her eyes. “My father’s stories made all of this seem exciting. And all that’s here is a list of dead men and their vassals and their lands and who cares.”

 “Lady Aelswith has assured me that her husband was a great man,” Sigtryggr said.

 “Oh, have you been spending a great deal of time with Lady Aelswith now?” She took her turn to smirk now, and then offered mercy at the look of bewilderment he wore. “He was, I suppose. He ruled with fairness and strength and love for his people.”

 “But?”

 She could not deny he was coming to know her well. “But it wasn’t as if he did these things all himself. He didn’t fight the battles, he didn’t bring in the harvests, he didn’t build the burhs. There’s scarcely even a mention of Lady Aelswith, either.”

 “Would there be? She tells me Wessex has no such thing as a queen. Aelflaed tells me different, of course.”  

 “Does it matter? Being a queen seems utterly boring, too.”

 The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Don’t all girls wish to grow up and become queen?”

 “No,” she shuddered. “I certainly didn’t. It seems awful, to do nothing but spend your days bowing and curtsying locked up in some palace. And I don’t want children, much less a kingdom.”

 “Oh? Have you discussed this with your intended?”

 She wrinkled her nose. “My intended?”

 “The man to whom you are betrothed. That’s what Saxons like to do, is it not? Find someone who can make them richer, give them power, or grant them lands, and marry their daughters off to them in exchange for their favor.”

 “Yes,” she admitted. It all sounded rather crude when he put it that way, and she supposed it was. Her mother had told her once of the man she’d nearly been forced to marry, her father’s cruel uncle who had stolen Bebbanberg, and how her brother, Guthred, arranged the match to solidify an alliance and receive reinforcements of men with no regard for his sister’s well-being or her wishes, and how her father had returned in time to disrupt the completion of the ceremony. Knowing her father, Stiorra suspected she left out some of the gorier details to make it fit for the ears of a child, but the passion of the act had always stuck with her, the reminder of the fierce devotion and the love they shared, and how so few were ever permitted to follow their hearts as they had. “Sometimes.”

 “So your betrothed…?” Sigtryggr prompted.

 They had spoken at length about family, hers and his alike, but this was the first time their conversation has strayed into this territory. “I don’t have one,” she said. “There’s no husband waiting for me. I’m not sure I even wish to marry, either.”

 “Ah, so you have preferred to take lovers instead, Stiorra Uhtredsdottir,” he said, winking.

 She felt her face flame. “No, I never even so much as… I’ve never taken a lover.”

Stiorra expected him to laugh, for him to look at her as a child just like everyone else, maybe to tease about her evident prudishness as she’d seen her father’s men rib each other often enough. But he only nodded, though he must have read her embarrassment, for he asked, “Are all Saxons so shy about these matters, too?”

 “I’m not a Saxon,” she said for what must have been the thousandth time, but this time she said it with a smile.

 “Then your Danish mother did not tell you of the joys that can be found with another?”

 “My mother died when I was still too young to talk of such things,” she said. “And the nuns and priests in Saltwic only droned on about purity and maintaining virtue… which makes Lady Aethelflaed herself quite the deviant if half of what they say about her and my father is true.”

 She grinned, though such a secret was scarcely one anymore, not for anyone who had seem them together with their own two eyes, and she flushed at the memory of how she had stumbled upon them kissing one time when she had come to bid him a farewell on his visit to Saltwic. Stiorra turned and ran before they noticed her interruption, and while it had been a bit awkward, she owed much to Lady Aethelflaed’s kindness and wished only happiness for her.

 “Lord Uhtred and Lady Aethelflaed? The daughter of King Alfred and Lady Aelswith?” Sigtryggr seemed amused at the prospect.  

 Stiorra nodded. “My father loved her, and she him. But they say before, she loved a Dane once. That he truly fathered her daughter, not Lord Aethelred.”

 She had never been bold enough to ask Lady Aethelflaed of it, but hearing of the tale had always excited her, and retelling it now was no different. She couldn’t help but think it romantic, despite its beginning and end and the loss of what could have been.

 “A smart woman, then,” Sigtryggr said. “Except if she loved your father, then why do they whisper he waits outside these walls when he could be the ruling Lord of Mercia?”

 “Lady Aethelflaed promised to remain chaste to placate the ealdormen and their god too, I suppose.”  

 He furrowed his brow in confusion. “Their god truly wants piety and obedience rather than free will and happiness?”

 “I don’t know what their god wants,” she shook her head. “For me to devote my life to a nunnery? Or am I instead to save myself for some repulsive old man and his bags of gold? Or some cruel lord with the right name and advantageous lands?”

 “You do not believe in their god?”

 She’d long ago lost faith in the god the Christians worshipped, the one King Alfred had tried to impress upon her to punish her father, but she’d also lost count of how many times she’d asked him, pleaded with the gods of her ancestors, begged anyone who was listening to free her from the boredom of first Coccham and then Saltwic, for someone to come along, anyone, and take her somewhere else, anywhere else, back to Winchester or Northumbria, and bring her adventure. Sometimes the gods had a funny way of showing their will.

 “I don’t want to believe in the existence of a god who takes that much interest in my cunt,” she said bluntly.

  He laughed, and soon she found herself laughing along with him.

 “It’s true,” she insisted. “I don’t care what they say about pagans, if we’re barbaric and wicked. At least our gods are not petty and selfish.”  

 “Our gods don’t care so much what we do so long as we entertain them,” he said.

 “Then they also must be rather bored with this siege,” she said, though she felt anything but now with the way she felt the air shift between them.

 Sigtryggr stood up and walked towards her slowly, nearing where she sat upon the table, books discarded at her side that couldn’t hold a candle compared to the way he seemed to study her now. “Then perhaps we should take it upon ourselves to amuse them?”

 She was struck by how he was even more handsome this way, stunning, strikingly. He was utterly compelling this close, tall, imposing with his scar streaking past his eye, and strong, her gaze following the muscles from his shoulders down to his forearms. At this distance, he was only himself, not a warlord, not more god than man as some of the others seemed to tell it.

 He hadn’t touched her since he’d taken the broken glass from her hand and talked her down from using it to mar her face, but she still remembered the way his skin felt against hers, warm and rough. He was even more hesitant this time as he reached first for her hand, and when she let her fingers thread through his, he brought the other up to stroke her cheek.

 It was nothing, really, no more than what perhaps a hundred other men had done to her, claiming they wished to admire her beauty or looking for a shadow of her father in her face or attempting to evoke a memory of her mother, yet the simple touch sent heat flooding through her.

 Stiorra wondered what he would do if she was bold enough to do the same to him, and gathering her courage, she decided to find out. She began with tracing over his scar, her fingertip lightly following the curved line, skirting around the edge of his mouth, skimming along his jaw, and then continuing over the hair that brushed his shoulders until her fingers slid against the leather covering his chest and curled around the hammer of Thor he wore.

 She found herself drawn to funny things this close: his eyelashes, the bob of his throat, the wisps of a beard gracing his chin, and when she had looked her fill, she brought her eyes up to meet his. She felt as though he saw her—not Lord Uhtred’s daughter, whether that was for good or for bad, not a captive or an enemy, and certainly not a child.

 “May I…”

“Yes.” She didn’t entirely know what she was agreeing to, nor did she care; she only knew that she wanted, anticipation thrumming beneath her skin.  

 The touch of his lips to hers was softer even than the feel of his hand on her cheek. It was strange at first, all of this, the way it felt, how he moved firm but gentle, slow and deliberate, even the fact that they stood in a room where King Alfred’s scribes had written of her father’s victories and the conquests of the Saxons.  

 It was nice, though, even as she wondered how she’d know, given she had nothing with which to compare it. She felt as though she was fumbling through the motions at first, merely attempting to mirror what he did, but then it smoothed into something even more pleasant, something synchronous as they found a sort of rhythm, and she paused only when she was certain she needed to breathe.

 This time she initiated as they resumed, one of her hands winding around his wrist, the other still entwined with his coming up to rest on his chest between them. Their kisses grew quicker, deeper, more desperate until he slowed the pace again.

 He lingered there against her, and seconds or minutes or hours could have passed, but Stiorra still was not expecting it when he pulled away, and it was so sudden she didn’t even have a chance to mask her disappointment.  

 Perhaps he’d stopped for an entirely different reason, though, and before she could stifle them, the words escaped. “Was I awful?”

 He grinned at her, his eyes darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice was deep, a low rumble in his chest, and it made her want more. “No. I simply find myself stricken.”

Stiorra nodded in understanding, her breath catching as his free hand slipped from her cheek to her hip. It had been just a kiss, but it didn’t feel like just anything as Stiorra reached up and swiped her finger over where his lips had touched hers. It felt like it could be something, could be everything.

 All her life Stiorra had been told of how she resembled her mother—in her looks, her strength, her wit—and she’d been told, too, of the gift of prophecy she’d possessed, of how Gisela could cast her rune sticks and see fate in the way they fell. That had always seemed like a strange business to Stiorra, but in that moment she wondered if she had inherited something else from her mother after all because as she looked back up at Sigtryggr again and returned his soft smile, she suspected she could see a glimpse of hers.

[tlkfanficfest]

TLK Fanfic Fest Prompts - Round 2

Round 2 is here! And the fandom has DOUBLED the amount of prompts since Round 1! That’s right, we have 126 prompts for this round. AMAZING!

This round will be open for two weeks and be closed on July 26.

All the prompts are alphabetized below, into different categories. Anyone can write using any prompt and all prompts may be filled by multiple people!

Please remember to tag your completed prompt fill with #TLKFFF2020 and @tlkfanficfest so they can be included in the Fill Post.

If your prompt fills are also on AO3 please add your fics to the The Last Kingdom Fanfic Fest Collection.  

If you wish to submit an anonymous submission, you may do so here. All submissions will posted at the discretion of @tlkfanficfest. We will not post anything involving incest or anything involving minors. 

And now, without further ado, the prompts:

PAIRINGS

Aethelflaed/Erik cute moments

Aethelflaed/Uhtred. Domestic (similar to early episode 4x05) either at cookham or saltwic/droitwich

Aethelflaed/Uhtred. Edward's thoughts on uhtred and his sister 4x04 when he walks away from his sister after the battle and they are embracing (if he were to turn around and see them)

Aethelflead/Uhtred, there's many ways for Aethelflead to have pleasure without risking to break her oath of chastity

Aethelfled/Uhtred. Uhtred retakes bebbanburg and aethelfled comes to join him.

Aethelfled/Uthred break the vow of chastity. Many times.

Aethelfled/Uthred. Aethelfled is wounded in battle, and Uthred nurses her back to health.

Aethelfled/Uthred. Aethelfled was already pregnant before her vow of chastity.

Aethelfled/Uthred. Fill out the time between the first kiss and the beginning of Season Four. How did the romance/ courtship take place?

Aethelfled/Uthred. Her mother mentioned Alfred looking down on what was happening. What would alfreds thoughts be of uthred bedding his daughter and their love for one another (also no chastity vow was made)

Aethelfled/Uthred. Uthred will do whatever it takes to get Aethelfled back. He won’t lose the woman he loves.

Aethelhelm/Haesten - Aethelhelm finds out from Haesten that Osferth is Alfred’s bastard child.

Aethelwold gets it (“it” either being some sex or a slap in the face. Preferably both)

Aldhelm - Modern AU where Aethelflaed sets up Aldhelm with her friend (OC female) – progressing through to cute romance and proud Aethelflaed when romance works out between Aldhelm and OC

Alfred/Uhtred Alfred likes to watch Uhtred fuck, Uhtred likes to put on a show. Power play

Alfred/Uhtred unresolved sexual tension. May or may not spill over like the wax on Alfred's candles. Wax play would be perfect

Alfred/Uhtred, "it is customary to kneel"

Alfred/Uhtred, patching up battle wounds

Alfred/Uhtred, sex in a church

Brida/Cnut - AU where Brida does tell Cnut she’s pregnant.

Brida/Ragnar - You distract me

Brida/Ragnar, Brida gives Ragnar her permission and affection.

Brida/Ragnar, Dunholm is a fortress but not yet their home. It’s time to mark their territory.

Brida/Ragnar, on Ragnar’s ship and sailing to wealth and freedom, Ragnar begins to notice Brida... and she begins to notice him back.

Brida/Ragnar, Ragnar loves Brida. But a man must have a son.

Brida/Uhtred, Brida's pregnant and alone and desperate to get laid when she comes across Uhtred and his pretty boys on their way north

Eadith/Finan, Eadith and Finan's first child

Eadith/Finan, Osferth walking in on Finan and Eadith humping in a closed room

Eadith/Finan, that awkward flirting that leads to smut phase

Edward - Edward makes a friend (OC female)

Erik/Uhtred Erik has a better way of trying to persuade Uhtred to join the brothers than a talking corpse.

Father Pyrlig/Osferth - they are forced to fight each other.

Finan is far from home and missing Uhtred, he masturbates thinking about what he'll do to Uhtred when he gets home.

Finan, Finan is badly hurt after a battle and reader takes care of him. (Bonus if they are married and it adds even more angst eheh)

Finan, The Irishman is in love with Steappa's daughter. But it doesn't stop the two men to continue to annoy each other

Finan/Eadith: firsts. First touch, first hug, first kiss, first time, first child. Anything do do with firsts.

Finan/Gisela (implied Finan/Gisela/Uhtred relationship - no cheating), Uhtred goes to Winchester leaving them in Coccham. Gisela is pregnant and Finan helps her with her cravings.

Finan/Gisela/Uhtred, the days Finan and Uhtred return from travel are Gisela worship days (it's all about her).

Finan/Osferth, Osferth is stabbed by Finan while trying to wake him up from a nightmare.

Finan/Sihtric — domestic moments

Finan/Sihtric: Finan watches Sihtric sleep.

Finan/Uhtred - Hickeys

Finan/Uhtred modern barber shop AU, including some 21st century sexy times

Finan/Uhtred orgasm denial

Finan/Uhtred pledge their lives to each other

Finan/Uhtred Uhtred has always been taught that to be fucked by a man is shameful, so why is he so desperate to be fucked by Finan? Uhtred wrestles with lust

Finan/Uhtred Uhtred is cock of the walk everywhere he goes. Except in bed where Finan rules the roost

Finan/Uhtred, a lone wolf is harrying Uhtred's sheepfarming tenants in Northumberland. Finan and Uhtred go on a wolf hunt.

Finan/Uhtred, Battle of the Somme au

Finan/Uhtred, choking

Finan/Uhtred, Finan hears Uhtred calling Gisela's name in his sleep

Finan/Uhtred, Finan is Uhtred's ESL teacher.

Finan/Uhtred, Finan pays tribute to the new Lord of Mercia

Finan/Uhtred, Finan took the contract, but watching Uhtred with his kids, he finds he can't pull the trigger.

Finan/Uhtred, Finan wants to kill Aethelwold, but Uhtred talks him out of it.

Finan/Uhtred, In the middle of winter, Aethelstan falls in the Thames. Uhtred dives in after him. Finan warms him up.

Finan/Uhtred, King Uhtred of Northumbria watches as Abbot Finan of Irland enters Bebbanburg... and after the feast, gives him a very warm welcome indeed.

Finan/Uhtred, meet cute at a marathon start line

Finan/Uhtred, planning a battle for Alfred in bed

Finan/Uhtred, recovering Skade is the first time they've been on a boat since the slave ship, and Finan doesn't react well. Uhtred wakes him from his nightmares.

Finan/Uhtred, Saxon Stories/Temeraire crossover, Uhtred and his dragon rescue Finan and his dragon from slavers

Finan/Uhtred, stolen moments

Finan/Uhtred, Uhtred figures out that Finan can read

Finan/Uhtred, Uhtred gets caught in the rain on his way back from Winchester and feels very sorry for himself. Finan makes him feel better.

Finan/Uhtred, Uhtred is on a mission for Her Majesty's Secret Service. Finan is his contact.

Finan/Uhtred/Gisela, Uhtred returns a changed man, but Gisela doesn't mind the Irish warrior he brings with him

Finan/woman (OC or Canon character, early morning sexy times.

Gisela/OC, Whilst Gisela is in the nunnery waiting for Uhtred’s return she has an affair with a fellow nun. Bonus if the other nun looks like Jodie Comer

Gisela/Uhtred, Uhtred loves Gisela's post baby curves.

Haesten/Uhtred, deep down Haesten wants to be one of Uhtred’s pretty boys.

Osferth, Osferth wants to kiss the reader all the time.

Osferth/Finan/Sihtric, Osferth plays a prank on Finan and Sihtric.

Osferth/Sihtric - they get lost in a blizzard.

Sigtryggr/Stoirra - getting to know each other by talking of their favorite things.

Sihtric, Sihtric takes his wife for a moonlight stroll.

Steapa, Steapa helps the reader with a twisted ankle.

Stiorra/Sigtryggr and their first kiss.

Uhtred, Reader dry humps Uhtred while he’s injured.

Uhtred, Uhtred spends time with his children.

Wihtgar, A crack ship fic featuring Wihtgar and one other character of your choosing.

NO SPECIFIC PAIRING

Aelswith gets her heart's desire

Aethelflaed and Alfred - Cloud watching

Aldhelm gets adopted/abducted by the Coccham Crew, who take him for a night of drinking to get him to loosen up

Coccham crew in a naturist camp

Cookham crew bathe after battle. Lots of nakedness is encouraged

Dane vs Saxon biker gang rivalries (modern au)

Edward, Edward reflects on his father’s death.

Fantasy AU (elves, dwarfs, maybe magic etc). Maybe with some Finan freaking out about the other races of creatures he meets

Finan - domestic Finan

Finan - Finan gets adopted by a kitten that follows him everywhere. Everyone learns to love the kitten (even Aelswith). Finan becomes protective of the kitten

Finan diet coke break

Finan likes to play games

Finan, Finan gets a concussion. Each of the guys take turns talking to him since he can’t fall asleep.

Finan, lays hurt after battle, and you are there to care or him.

Guthred, Guthred learns of his sister’s (Gisela) death by childbirth. He’s kept tabs on her.

Magic Mike AU

Osferth, he tells people he loves them (platonically) by the food he cooks.

Pokémon AU - Danes and Saxons battle via Pokémon

Ragnar Ragnarson, Alone in Ireland, Ragnar hears rumours of a Saxon uprising at Loidis, a slave who killed his master, Earl Ragnar the Fearless.

Ragnar Ragnarson, becoming a big brother to a younger brother.

Ragnar Ragnarson, conversations with Alfred while a hostage.

Ragnar Ragnarson, learning Uhtred is a slave

Ragnar Ragnarson, leaving home in Loidis to go and make his wealth

Ragnar Ragnarson, searching for Uhtred at Alfred’s command

Ragnar Ragnarson, teaching his new brother Uhtred how to use a sword.

Ragnar Ragnarson, watching his father fight in battle.

Ragnar Ragnarson, when his father tells him that the crops will not grow and so they will leave Denmark and go to Northumbria to make their wealth and build a new life

Sihtric, Sihtric has cold hands and he likes to tease his friends by putting them on them with no warning

Sihtric. Sihtrics gets comforted by Uhtred (not pairing). Bonus points for extra Coccham Squad feels.

Steapa, Steapa’s thoughts on Finan.

Thyra, Thyra’s family greets her in Valhalla.

Uhtred, finding his children after he finds out about Gisela's death

Uhtred, growing up in Loidis, remembering Bebbanburg

Uhtred, it's canon that Uhtred talks to his horses. Maybe one day, someone overhears him talking.

Uhtred, putting Bebbanburg to rights again

Uhtred, slowly realising that Gisela has been buried

Uhtred, watching his kids sleep when he gets home from battle

Why Finan is always tugging on armor collars.

Young Ragnar, let the games begin

Young Ragnar: sword play

IMAGINES

Clapa, reader humps Clapa on his lap.

Finan, Reader, Sihtric: Reader finds herself in a poly relationship with Finan and Sihtric

Finan/Reader, Finan comes home to find reader gone. They had gotten into a fight that day before he was to go off to battle with Uhtred. She told him that if he left she wouldn't be there when he got back. Lots of angst with a sad ending. (it was from the last round and I missed the submission :'( sadly. I'd love to try and post it this time)

Finan/Uhtred - To keep Finan and Uhtred quiet the reader halfway undresses while spying on Danes.

Sihtric saves the reader from drowning

Sihtric, the reader dares Sihtric to lick her on the neck.

[sherlolly-ruffles]

You cannot kill everyone in an enemy army. Or rarely. Whenever the poets sing a tale of battle they always insist that no enemy escapes unless the poet himself happens to be part of the fight when he alone escapes. It is strange that. Poets always live while everyone else dies, but what do poets know? I have never seen a poet in a shield wall. Yet, outside Cetreht, we must have killed over fifty of Kjartan’s men, and then everything became chaotic because Guthred’s men could not tell the difference between Kjartan’s followers and Ragnar’s Danes, and so some of the enemy escaped as we pulled warriors apart. Finan, attacked by two of Guthred’s household troops, had killed both of them and, when I found him, he was about to attack a third. ‘He’s on our side,’ I shouted to Finan.

‘He looks like a rat,’ Finan snarled.

‘His name,’ I said, ‘is Sihtric, and he once swore me an oath of loyalty.’

‘Still looks like a rat, he does.’

‘Are you on our side?’ I called to Sihtric, ‘or did you rejoin your father’s troops?’

‘Lord, lord!’ Sihtric came running to me and fell to his knees in the trampled mud beside my horse. ‘I’m still your man, lord.’

‘You didn’t take an oath to Guthred?’

‘He never asked me, lord.’

‘But you served him? You didn’t run back to Dunholm?’

‘No, lord! I stayed with the king.’

‘He did,’ Gisela confirmed. I gave Serpent-Breath to Gisela, then reached down and took Sihtric’s hand. ‘So you’re still my man?’

‘Of course, lord.’ He was clutching my hand, gazing at me with disbelief.

‘You’re not much use, are you,’ I said, ‘if you can’t beat a skinny Irishman like him?’

‘He’s quick, lord,’ Sihtric said.

‘So teach him your tricks,’ I told Finan, then I patted Sihtric’s cheek. ‘It’s good to see you, Sihtric.’

[nxtawitch]

Strength and Wisdom

There were few things that broke Gisela’s focus while she worked, and the crack of weapons in the yard was at the top of that list. The crack was followed up by a crash and grunt, then a peal of laughter. Her grip slackened on the millstone, the slow purr of stones and crunch of wheat corns coming to a halt while dark eyes shifted to the open doors. 

Past those who stood and watched, young Uhtred rolled from where Sithric threatened to cut down at him with a feder. The boy—all elbows and knees, with a height that had yet to be filled out—scrambled to his feet, his sword and shield gone. When Sithric approached, moving much slower than an enemy ever would, her son skittered away, bending down to grab the forgotten blade. Seeing how wide his eyes were, it took all of Gisela’s restraint not to draw the exercise to a halt, even though the wooden blades would do nothing but bruise her child. 

“Lady?” One of her maids asked, and Gisela forced her eyes away to look at the young Saxon, whose brows were furrowed. “I’m unsure whether we have enough meat for tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow. Alfred was without a doubt riding their way, having heard of the latest exploit of her husband. Getting in a disagreement over an urn with Æthelred’s goon (for the second time) was certainly not the best advised conflict, but Gisela had not stopped it—informing her husband of Aldhelm calling her a bitch had, in fact, led to the man’s nose and jaw being broken while she had the men bring the urn back into the home. 

That reminder brought Gisela away from fears for her son—Uhtred needed to be a warrior, if he was ever to help his father retake Bebbanburg—and to what needed to be done. The daily grind of flour had been tripled, ale needed to be selected, and their food needed to be fit for the King of the Anglecynn (even if the food he served at his own palace was of lesser quality to her usual meals). She wiped flour-dusted hands on her apron, nodding to the maid. “I will handle the meat. Would you continue the grinding? I’d like it to be as fine as possible for our guests.” Her back and shoulders protested as she straightened after hours at the mill, dragging the heavy stone around in circles. It was meant to be Stiorra’s work, but the mere amount of it was too much for the girl. Instead, her lovely, dark-haired daughter sat wedged between two others, cutting turnips and carrots for the meal. Gisela smiled their way, her heart light with the fortune that came to them: a Roman home in Lundene, little worry over winter, and three healthy children. 

Now, if only Alfred did not have to come visit her husband whenever he disputed with his cousin. 

They had plenty of pork for the arrival of Alfred and his men, and a hen that had stopped laying went in with the vegetables to thicken the broth. Gisela looked proudly over the spread, with a loaf for every man, even the flock of priests that filled her home with black. While the show of the nailed god’s wealth was understandable—it was no secret that she was as pagan as her husband—Gisela frowned at the way the cloth sucked the light from the limestone walls. 

While her maids served the best ale in her stores, she surveyed the men around the table. Warriors and priests did little to intermingle, though Beocca visited with Osferth in a corner. Alfred smiled when his eyes met hers, momentarily losing the grave look he so often wore around Uhtred. Gisela let herself smile in return, but her armor slid back into place when she looked back to the others, careful interest being the only thing visible to the untrained eye. Brows slightly arched, eyes devouring everything, lips set in the lightest of smiles, she’d become an expert at expressing her emotions through the slightest shift of her brow, perfect for times like this, where she was expected to be seen and not heard.  

That meant, when she looked down the table and saw young Uhtred missing from his seat at the table, she could look at Uhtred and, once their eyes met, silently nod in the direction of the door to excuse herself. His brows quirked up, but he nodded in return, and she slid from the bench and the room. With the unchanged clamor of voices, it seemed as though none would follow her into the yard. The courtyard, usually the hub of all activity in the home, was quiet save for the cluck of chickens and a small, quiet sniff by the garden. Gisela strode that way, remaining mostly silent as she did. 

Her son sat on Stiorra’s milking stool, his back turned away from the hall and the feast, His narrow shoulders curled in, the boy making himself seem even smaller. Her mind raced with possibilities of what she’d missed. Had her visions passed to him? Was he hurt in some way? But with another sniff, she took off her veil, wrapping the fine wool around his shoulders, before kneeling before him. Her brows pinched together at the blotchy redness of his face, and she took his small, still childlike hands in her own before he could wipe his eyes. 

“What’s wrong, ástin mín?” Gently, she brushes flaxen hair from his brow. Every day, he grew closer in resemblance to his father, save for the way he often worried his lip beneath his teeth, as he did now. That was from her, always done when she thought no one was watching. 

His hands tightened on hers, but he didn’t open his mouth to share. He had the stubborn jaw of his father, but Gisela would not press young Uhtred to speak. That, as she’d learned from her brother, would only make him more reluctant to share the cause of his pain. 

Instead, she wiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumb. The stool she dragged over scraped against the earth, but once it was set, she sat and wrapped her arms around her son. For a while they sat, his head on her shoulder and her hand stroking his hair. The silence between them was an ocean she couldn’t cross, and not for the first time did she wish her knowledge of fate could lend her advice on how to raise her children, but to ask too much of the Gods was to invite madness and misfortune. 

The cock strutted close, inspecting the two intruders to his realm. Gisela’s lips tightened into a stern frown, but the cock couldn’t tell the difference between a worm and a bit of spare roving, let alone human emotions. He pecked at her shoe, but upon discovery that it was not in fact food, he strutted away. 

And somehow, with it he pulled her across the ocean, for young Uhtred spoke at last. “Father doesn’t like me, does he?” 

Ice shot through her veins. Sure, there was little equal footing they could meet on, but surely—”Why would you think that, miting? Your father and I love you.” Gisela smiled, but it felt too wrong even for her. It faded quickly, and she took her son’s chin to make him look at her, brows raising. 

He turned his head away, eyes falling to the earth. “I’m not strong. I don’t like fighting, especially not as much as him.” He pulled his hands from hers, electing to pick at the hem of his tunic, where wear was causing the nap of the wool to raise. At any other moment, she would’ve scolded him for such an action, he saw how many hours she and the other women spent producing the textiles that kept him warm, but instead she pulled him close once more, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

If Gisela was being honest, she held him close and kissed him in the same way she’d done when he was born because the right words to say were still missing from her mind. Were there any? Reminding him that he was loved was all she could do. 

“Father and his men, they always know what to say. They’ve got jokes, and good insults, and I sit with my mouth open, looking like a fish because...I can’t keep up.” He let out a shuddering breath, the words delivered with a maturity far beyond his eight years of age. Her son straightened, drawing himself away from her embrace. “I’m just not as strong, how can I gain reputation?” 

Her blood boiled at that well-trodden worry. Gisela was going to have a word with Uhtred as soon as Alfred was gone. But, the right words came to her at last. “There are more ways of being strong than being good with a sword.” 

“Like being good with a spear?” 

“No,” She smiled, bumping him with her elbow, “Look at your aunt, Thyra. Is she not strong?” Gisela paused, brows raised as she waited for him to tell her she was wrong. She wasn’t, but young Uhtred’s eyes merely widened. “I thought so. She survived Kjartan, without ever needing a blade. And King Alfred is strong, even when he’s at his most ill. There are many ways to be strong, and not every man needs to be like Thor in theirs.” 

“Then how, if I’m not a strong warrior?” His brows furrowed, the blue of his eyes bright with curiosity. Gisela was merely glad they no longer shone with tears. 

“Your mind. Odin is wise, and as much of a trickster as Loki, and yet he reigns over the gods.” She taps his head, lightly. “Always ask questions of what you know, and leave your mind open to the opinions of others. It’s wisdom and tactics that win wars and make kingdoms great, even if fighting wins an individual battle.” She should know, for her father and brother were both fools, and it had lost their kingdom. Wits—her wits, though she let the Abbot Eadred claim the credit—had reinstated Guthred’s place, while the city struggled to rebuild in his absence. 

Finally, a smile lit upon her boy’s face, and the rock in her heart lightened. He nodded quickly, and took her hand. “Tell me more!” 

“You’ll have plenty of time to ask me questions,” She motioned towards the doors, “but there is a whole room of wise men you may not have much time with. Will you come join us in the hall again?” The boy looked over his shoulder, his lips tightening into a line as he considered. Sensing his apprehension, she offered a hand. “I’ll introduce you to Father Beocca. You’ve met briefly before, but he was your father’s priest when he was your age.” 

Uhtred took her hand, squeezing it tightly, and Gisela stood. The milking stool she sat on turned over, but she didn’t mind that. What was more important was that he stood as well, and followed her to the doors. 

“I didn’t know father was christian.” His hand tightened again once they were about to enter, and Gisela knelt down. It always felt odd, looking down to speak to a person. Especially her own child. 

“He was. But now he’s not.” She brushed her fingers through his hair once more, making it nicer for the company within. “He was a good teacher, according to your father. It was he who was merely bored of lessons. I hope you will not tire of learning, though.” 

Uhtred, eyes wide, shook his head. As if she’d warned him, he let go of her hand and pushed the door open on his own, too-long legs carrying him to the squinting priest, whose hair had long since gone grey. 

Gisela watched as the boy tugged on Beocca’s hand lightly, his mouth moving quickly. Beocca glanced her way, brows raised, but eased into conversation with the child, his healthy hand gesturing wildly as he spoke. Young Uhtred hung on his every word. Content with the outcome of her suggestion, she returned to her spot by Uhtred, and entwined her fingers in his. 

One look was all it took. 

[vermilionskiinmorning]

The Price of Freedom||TLK One Shot

@echo-story​ thanks so much for the request! We can all always do with some Ragnarsson bro love <3 It kind of turned into a feels/angst-fest, but I hope you enjoy it!  

Fandom: The Last Kingdom/The Saxon Stories

Pairing: none

Words: 1060

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The Gods love chaos. Men created oaths to fight that chaos and men are ruled by their oaths. Though all who knew the old Gods knew oaths were just the attempts of men to manage that chaos -to break an oath was to invite chaos. At the foot of Yggdrasil, the Norns spun fate and they did not care for the oaths of men.

Uhtred had learned that lesson at a young age. His oath to Ragnar was one of revenge. They would kill Kjartan the man who had betrayed their father. He had sworn it. The Gods must have been laughing. Because the Gods see what men do not.

His oath. It was Alfred’s price for Ragnar’s freedom. Swear to Alfred, become his man, and protect Wessex from the incursion of the Danes. He had balked with indignation. The audacity of Alfred’s claim that Ragnar was to blame for Uhtred’s actions was astonishing.

“My actions are my own!” Uhtred argued.

“None the less, you killed a priest in a house of God…while in Ragnar’s custody.”

They both knew it was a cop out. How could Ragnar have stopped him? Overcome with rage as Uhtred was in that moment; there was no way. Nor would Ragnar have thought to do so. He thought nothing of priests or the Christian God. Alfred was playing him.

But, for his brother’s freedom he would do it. Bind himself again to Wessex…after only just regaining his freedom from slavery. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ragnar was gone before he could meet him. Instead he found Brida at the stable readying her horse to depart. Uhtred’s heart clenched with anguish. She was an angry creature. It had always been so. She hated the Christians for their spur of the old Gods, and she hated Wessex for taking him. No solace would be found from her sharp tongue. So, Uhtred returned for Gisela, the love of his life, and the reason for his current predicament. It was his furious love for her that had driven him to kill the priest, but he did not blame her. The blame for the event rested solely on the shoulders of his vile Uncle who sat in his ancestral home and who had tried to steal Gisela away from him.

“Go to him,” Gisela whispered.

She stroked his cheek with slender fingers. A sad smile rested on her lips. As a Dane, she also knew the capriciousness of the Gods and could see her husband’s anguish at this cruel twist.

“Alfred may have your oath, but you are not bound to this city… Your brother can not have passed Wessex’s boarders by now.”

And so, she was right. Women so often are. Men are strong willed and stalwart, but the Gods gave men women to temper them. Gisela was a gift of the Gods. So, he rode.

Half a day’s ride behind Ragnar, Uhtred had to push his horse giving it no rest until the sun began to sink below the horizon. In the distance, he saw the small fire of a camp that caused his heart to leap with joy. Ragnar’s chestnut mare with her distinct saddle stood tied to a tree not far from the camp. And again, he pushed his horse to reach them.

His arrival was met with surprise from the men and a scowl from Brida. She shook her head but did not stop Uhtred from approaching. Leaping from his horse, Uhtred went directly to Ragnar. The blonde Viking was somewhat shocked, but no less pleased to see him.

“Brother!” Ragnar boomed jovially. “You’ve come to join us after all?! Brida said you would not come.”

A look of regret flickered across Uhtred’s face.

“I…have not.”

Ragnar’s brow furrowed –a slight guarded expression appearing on his face. “Then why?”

“To assure you I will stand by our oath,” Uhtred said, his voice tight with emotion. “I will be there to aid in our father’s revenge.”

A scoff came from near the fire causing both brothers to turn. Brida sat sharpening her knife with an unimpressed expression. She already knew of his oath -the one made to Alfred.

“And how will you do that when you are bound to Alfred?” she quipped.

Ragnar looked hurt at Brida’s words. She had apparently not yet told him about the oath -only that Uhtred would not join them. Though, he was looking to Uhtred to deny her accusation.

“I am…bound to Alfred, but he has enemies,” Uhtred said vehemently. “Enemies in the North. And a weak ally in Guthred.”

Ragnar snorted indignantly.

“Guthred? The man who sold you to slavery. You would petition to aid that weasel shit?”

Uhtred’s expression twisted in distaste. “Just send word, brother, when you are ready. I will come.”

Regret curled in his gut at the expression of disbelief on his brother’s face. Of course, Ragnar loved him dearly, but to hear of Uhtred binding himself to Wessex did not promote faith. Wessex and the Saxons were the enemies of the Danes and by blood Uhtred was still a Saxon. For some time, Ragnar had begun to wonder if his brother had lost his love of the Danes.

“Do you love them?” Ragnar asked. “These Saxons…have they turned you against us?”

“I do not.” Was Uhtred’s vehement reply.

“Then why swear an oath?”

Uhtred swallowed hard.

“Leverage, brother, Alfred…he would have kept you prisoner,” he sighed heavily, running a tired hand over his face. “It is his opinion that the death of that priest in Cumberland would be a valid reason to do so.”

“The priest?” Brida spat.

Pained understanding swept across Ragnar’s face.

“And the price of the priest’s life…”

“Is your imprisonment or my oath,” Uhtred answered.

Tears pricked the corner of Ragnar’s coal rimmed eyes as he gave a short nod of comprehension. Alfred had out maneuvered them. He recognized Uhtred for the efficient weapon he was and made his moves to keep that weapon under his control.

“My brother would shackle himself to see me freed.”

Uhtred had no time to respond before Ragnar swept him into a bone crushing hug. Automatically, he hugged back with the same unwillingness to release the embrace. When finally they did part, Ragnar leveled Uhtred with an intense stare.

“I know you will keep your oath,” Ragnar whispered.

[thestarwrites]

City of God part VI (Finan X OC)

Fic Summary: Finan the Agile meets a Celt-Saxon woman, and for once he can’t think of anything else. A Royal Wedding approaches...

Part Six

Rating: PG-13

Please don’t plagiarize! Tag list; (please DM me if you’d like to be added!) @nxrdist @joyofbebbanburg @medievalfangirl @bookworm925 @buckysskye @jcalpha1@sprinkles617

word count: 1,870

And just like that, the lovers were happily together once more, and in Coccham she remained, her hair partially bound up most days in the hair comb Finan had gifted to her. They were openly more affectionate, although he had not proposed marriage or asked his Lord for permission. Though they were content as they were.

The next day came a visit from the King himself. Sihtric, Clappa, Rypere, Finan, and Kelly beside, stood, watching the King’s procession of priest after priest after priest. Kelly took a deep breath and looked up, “This is what I do NOT miss about living at the palace.” Finan chortled, “Man must have a priest for every day of the year.”

They all chuckled gently, Finan crossing himself with mocked respect. Kelly nudged him gently and he grinned down to her, “I feel I must be needed in the Hall.” Kelly sighed softly and nodded, the Irishman leaned down and kissed her head, “Love ye.” “Love you too.” She smiled, and when Sihtric and Rypere started poking fun at her she turned red and yelped, “Quiet! You’re just jealous.” “You forget, love, I’m married.” Sihtric laughed, “Rypere though, I cannot speak for.” “I wonder what the King is doing here…” She said softly, sitting on a stump. Rypere shrugged, “He is displeased with Uhtred that he is still a Pagan, he doesn’t much trust him— though he should. Alfred would not be on that throne without Uhtred.” “Alfred is grateful to none but the Lord.” She reminded, “Though, he should know that the Lord must have sent you all, pagan or christian.” Sihtric smiled, “Aye- the Gods work their wonders with us like puppets, it always works to their will- and I assume, to your God’s as well.” Yawning Rypere left to go sharpen his swords, and Clapa went to spar with some of the less-trained guards. By the time Finan came out of the hall with Uhtred, Gisela and the King— Sihtric was braiding some of Kelly’s hair. Walking over to the two, they both stood at attention and bowed to their lord. “Miss Kelly, it is good to see you at last.” He gently bowed his head, “Your father tells me you live exclusively here at Coccham. With Finan.” She swallowed and smiled, nodding, “Yes, Lord King. I stay with Hild, but I do live here with the people of Coccham.” He nodded, “And you have been-“ he paused, “Enjoying life here?” “Oh yes, Lord,” she beamed, “I think Coccham might be my favorite place in all Wessex— besides Wintecester, of course.” “Will you walk with me, Kelly?” He offered his arm. Kelly bowed graciously, shooting a look to Finan as she saw him, Uhtred and a few others going to one of the regular merchant ships at the docks, “It would be my honor, Lord.” Alfred was silent as they walked through the town slowly, “I am… worried about you, my dear.” “Worried, Lord?” Wetting his lips he stopped behind a cluster of trees, “This is a town run by a pagan. I fear for a good Christian as yourself.” Kelly just smiled, “A pagan you owe much to, Lord. Besides, I have never felt more included and respected than here. I feel like an equal, not a subservient woman, though I know that is not most men’s view of a woman.” “You are quite outspoken.” He said calmly, “I blame the Irishman.” He then turned and gave a smile, “His presence as well as your influence on him, as well as Hild, are guiding lights for Uhtred. And I pray someday he becomes a Christian.” Kelly took a deep breath, “Lord? If I may be so bold as to say Christ loves us all, including the pagans. And as long as we live our lives spreading the word, how others receive it is not on us. And yet we are still to love our neighbors as Christ would.” The King looked out for a moment and then nodded as he saw Uhtred and his men returning from the docks, “Food for thought, my dear. Excuse me.” And with that he walked away, Kelly was hoping she had not lost grace or favor with the King. And she only hoped that Uhtred would keep her on at Coccham as time went by, and she could owe her allegiance to him. Finan left the side of Uhtred, setting down a handful of torches, “Private conference with tha King, ey?” Kelly looked up at him and put her arms around his waist, sighing softly, “Trying to make him see a little sense.” Raising his brows he smirked, “Ye should be lucky he likes ye.” “And you? What on earth was all that about?” Finan bit his lip and took a deep breath, “Remember I was talking about possibly crossing into Daneland?” After a nod he continued, “Same problem, but delivered by Erik.” “Erik?? Sigefrid and Erik, Erik?” Kelly looked up at him afraid. “He was peaceful, I did not speak to him, only Uhtred alone. I did not even see him.” She nodded and rubbed his lower back gently, “And what do you think our Lord will do?” “Honestly girl? I’m not sure.” Kelly wet her lips, “If you cross into Daneland, I am coming with you.” He gave her a warning glance, “We talked about this.” “Talk isn’t actually what we did, you just forbid it. But I am my own person with my own mind and it is made up. I do not wish to sit behind like Uhtred and Sihtric’s wives. I am going to see everything through with you, Finan. I am tired of being idle and staying behind!” His face flashed quick anger, “I won’t lose you.” “No, you won’t.” She leaned up and kissed him softly, lovingly, “Now. There is a wedding coming up, isn’t there? Aren’t you in need of a date?” He melted under her, he always did, “No. I already have one.” He pulled her in and gave her a squeeze, giggling she held him, “I love your spirit, you crazy, wild, girl.” “And I love yours, my Celtic Warrior.” Kissing him again she pulled away, “I am going to go and bathe.” “And that will be the thoughts in my head for the rest of the afternoon.” He quipped, leaning to steal another kiss- eyes darting up as he watched the king depart, “Quick visit then.” He sighed. Kelly patted his chest, “Go and see to Lord Uhtred.” And with that she sauntered away. He briefly spoke with his Lord, and went to do some chores.

About an hour and a half later while Kelly was bathing alone in the abbey, Hild came to speak with the Irishman, “So, Finan.” He turned from brushing his horse and grinned, “Abbess! Hello- how can I be a’ service?” “We need to talk.” Cocking his head he smiled, “Do we? Well, go on then.” “Its about Kelly.” She said softly, and when he looked upset she continued, “You and she are spending so much time together. You get along so well, and there is clearly a strong bond between you.” Finan nodded, “Aye…? I am courting her? Has she not told ye?” Nodding she said, “Its not that I don’t know that but…People are beginning to talk. Alfred has asked me several times about her and you, and has been wondering when you two will be joined in holy matrimony.” He coughed and looked up at her with worried eyes, “M-matrimony—” “You’ve practically asked her to move here to Coccham.” “Aye bu’ I—“ “Do you not wish her to be your wife?” “I- Its no’ that!” Hild sighed and looked at him, “Have you lain with her?” His face flushed red, “No a’course no’! We’ve been intimate but nothin’ she’s no’ comfortable wit and nothin tha’ would compromise her honor!” Hild sighed softly once more and gave him a knowing look. Finan just looked down at the ground before speaking again, “I’m worried. I’m worried I won’ be a good husband. I’m worried I can’t provide for ‘er, and wha’ if she gets so attached an’ I die?” She touched his arm, “Pray about it, Finan. Pray for clarity and peace. Thats all I ask.” He nodded, “Fair enough, Abbess.” “Your bonnie lass will be finished with her bath soon.” She chuckled, “I’ve lent her a book and she’s already confessed she wishes to read to you a while this afternoon.” A crooked smile came over the Irishman’s face once again and he sighed, “A dream come true.” “And it was under the Oak tree, that the brave knight knelt to his lady, and pledged his undying love. She, embarrassed and happy, confessed her own, and under that tree, they shared true loves first kiss…” Finan looked up at the girl, his head in her lap, “Yer beautiful, lass.” Marking her place, she sat the book down and sighed, stroking his hair, “And you’re handsome.” He grinned, “I’m a lucky man ta have a lass like you tendin’ me.” “Yes, you are.” She chuckled. Sitting up, he kissed her softly, “We’re to leave to Wintecester for the wedding in the morning.” “Ooh, good think I bathed- you should as well, Lord.” “Are you goin’ ta bathe me, my darling?” He smirked. Scoffing she tapped his cheek in a soft slap, “In your dreams, Lord.” He laughed gently and closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of her fingers in his growing crop of hair. “Finan? Where /is/ Dunholm?” He smiled, “Why? Thinkin’ a runnin’ away ta join the Danes?” She laughed, “No, I just want to know more about the land- I lived in East Anglia, more toward the north for a while, I heard tales of Dunholm, but I never saw it.” “Well I was there for a spell, after we captured it from Kjartan the Cruel, Shitric’s arse of a father… its a great large fortress, high on the cliffs. A river winding round it. Its at the bottom of Northumbria, near the coast. So if you were to ever be in Eforwich, and follow the coast up for about two days- you’d see the great fortress.” “I’ve been to Eforwich— I met King Guthred once before we were Brought here with father, he was a very kind man—“ “Um, girl, I wouldn’t bring tha up with Lord Uhtred.” “How come?” Finan wet his lips, “Guthred was the man who sold Uhtred into slavery.” Her hand went to her mouth, “Oh—I—“ “Ye didn’t know lass its fine.” He smiled up to her. She was quiet for a moment before she looked up at the sky, “Is Dunholm beautiful?” He chuckled and sat up, “I’m sure with how Ragnar is, it is now.” He stood up and held out his hand, “Want to come help me take a bath?” “Finan!” He smirked, pulling her close, “Yes, my angel?” “You’re an idiot.” She grinned. “And I’m all yers…” He smirked and kissed her gently, “I’ll go an get a bath, m’lady, as requested. I’ll see you soon in the hall aye?” Nodding she smiled, watching him walk off. A wedding. How exciting.