#new life new leif | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ginnsbaker · 5 months ago

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)

Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)

“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)

“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface.

It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.

Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”

“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”

Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.

Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.

“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”

“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”

Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”

“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”

Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten.

“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!”

Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.

“So, what’s stopping you?”

“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”

Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”

“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag.

Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”

“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”

“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”

Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”

Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”

Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”

“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.

Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.

“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time.

“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.

“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”

Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.

You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.

You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.

Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.

“Hm?”

She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.

“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.

“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”

Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”

You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.

She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.

“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”

Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”

Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.

You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her.

Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.

You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.

“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.

Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.

Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”

You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.”

A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave.

Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother’s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”

“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”

You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.

“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.

“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.

“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”

You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”

Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”

Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.

“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.

You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”

Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.

At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.

What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.

As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.

“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.

Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.

Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”

“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend.

Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.

Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say.

Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”

Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”

“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.

The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.

“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.

“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”

Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave.

You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.

“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.

You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”

Reluctantly, you agree.

You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.

In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week.

Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.

When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.

“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.

“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.

You don’t need to be told twice. Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix.

Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“So... what do you think of Leigh?”

“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.

She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”

“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.

She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.

“Come on, be serious,” you plead.

Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.

“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”

You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.

“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”

She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”

You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”

“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”

“What’s on Tuesday?”

“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”

“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.

You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”

Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”

You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”

“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”

Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer.

You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.

“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Go on,” she urges gently.

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”

Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?”

You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”

You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”

Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.

“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.

“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”

“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.

“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.

“I really do,” you say quietly.

“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.

You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.

Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.

Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.

You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.

She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.

Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.

Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.

You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.

You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.

Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.

“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.

“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.

“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment.

“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.

“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.

Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.

Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.

“Is that for me?”

“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”

Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.

“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”

You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.

Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.

“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”

Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.

“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.

When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.

“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”

Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.

“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”

She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.

“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.

Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.

Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.

In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.

Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.

Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.

Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.

Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.

Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.

“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”

Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”

Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.

“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”

“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.

Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.

Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?

“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”

Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.

Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”

“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.

“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”

Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—”

“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”

Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.

“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”

“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely. “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”

Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”

Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.

“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”

It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.

Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”

Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”

But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”

It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.

Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.

Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.

“What was that about?” Amy asks.

Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.

Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.

It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.

“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.

You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.

It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.

“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”

You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”

She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.

“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”

Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”

Everything around you stills.

“What do you mean, you might not come back?”

Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”

“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.

She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”

“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.

Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”

“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”

“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking.

“What—”

“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.

You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”

“Your mom told me.”

The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.

Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”

Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.

Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”

“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.

“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”

You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh.

You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”

She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”

“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”

Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.

“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”

With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.

But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.

There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.

Leigh is still leaving.

To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?

Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.

You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.

“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.

“I know it's you,” you reply softly.

“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.

“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”

She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”

“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.

“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.

Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”

You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”

She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”

After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”

“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.

They announce final boarding.

“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.

You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.

And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

367 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 5 months ago

Text

Under The Moonlight

Part 16

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Seven years have passed since (Y/N) and the crew arrived to Constantinople. They've settled in since then, but life has not been easy for them.

CW/TW: Violence, war, religion bashing, vikings being vikings, period era situationships lmao, angst?, hurt emotionally and physically but barely any comfort, red flags? dont know her, (y/n) im begging you there's better fish in the sea

If you're new here and wondering where this came from, you can check out part one here and the masterlist here!

~~~

Seven years had passed since Emperor Romanos offered his sincere gratitude for ensuring the safe passage of his new wife, Eleana who they now were to call Empress Zoe. His gratitude reared its head through riches, rewards, and a place amongst his people, as well as a place amongst his army of men trained to kill and conquer the land of the empire's enemies. Constantinople was home now, even if temporarily.

They'd all settled in, although it'd taken time to grow accustomed to the vastly different culture and language. It'd been a difficult feat for (Y/N), his longing for his real home never dissipating amidst the heat and flourishing city. He missed his settlement in Greenland, his old friends, dearly missed his beloved mother who'd no doubt presumed him dead when he and his siblings hadn't returned home from their voyage. He longed for the cold and snow, the sound of the wind howling at night.

Leif and Harald, ever the adaptable ones, slotted in perfectly with their surroundings.

Harald climbed the ranks with ease, finding himself a stranger no more to Emperor Romanos as his personal bodyguard and newfound general of his own army: the Varangians, an army full of Vikings and mercenaries in need of a home and money. It'd been expected from a Viking prince to slither his way up and coil around such an important role. He ensured the crew joined his army, and took part in the fighting and rewards. But it was never enough for Harald, no matter how many riches he acquired through the years. Nothing was ever enough for him.

Leif took to Mariam's old home and called it his own, his newfound thirst for knowledge only growing after he read through all her books and eventually began seeking it out in places called 'libraries'; rooms of knowledge, he explained. Each time they traveled to fight another war for Emperor Romanos, he sought out the writings and maps of those places, learning new information from ancient and modern times. The sciences of the world around them enthralled him, captivated him into an obsession. (Y/N) preferred it, though. He preferred his brother's eagerness over watching Leif lose himself in grief again.

As much as (Y/N) found himself feeling out of place, fighting for the Byzantine Empire and calling Constantinople had given him much to do; and provided him with chances to see places he never would've dreamt of seeing. Such as the place they'd traveled to now, to defeat the Saracens at the urging of General Maniakes in Sicily. They'd been fighting for six months in what felt like an endless siege, and Emperor Romanos had begun growing antsy.

(Y/N) squinted through the darkness as he walked through the tunnels they'd been digging for the past few weeks, a lantern tightly gripped in one hand and held before him. His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness around him, allowing him to better see the crevices in the dirt walls around him. Short wooden beams and planks held the dirt in place, preventing it from crumpling and trapping those within. All a part of Leif's plan, as always.

"How are we doing, Kaysan?" (Y/N) called out once the man came into view, flashing him a smile and being rewarded with a large one in return. Kaysan chuckled and wiped his hands along his pants, the subtle stink of sulfur lingering in the air around them. Foul-smelling enough to bring tears to one's eyes, but Leif insisted it was needed for his plan to work.

"Your brother is working on the last of the sulfur we need. He says once it is ready, we can set the plan in motion." Kaysan answered, taking a step back to admire the combined work of the last couple weeks. Bundles of sulfur had been pushed into holes expanding across the wall of dirt, ready to be lit by a flame that'd bring down the tunnel and subsequently the wall of the fortress just mere feet above them. "I must admit I had little faith in his plan at first. But seeing what this powder can do when a flame is close to it..." Kaysan shook his head lightly, a twinkle of admiration in his dark eyes.

"It is hard to match up to such a creative thinker as Leif." (Y/N) chuckled, his steps slow as he walked along the wall and took in the wall before him. He'd always known his brother had been destined for great things, whether on land or sea. Leif had inherited the best parts of his parents. No longer the savage son of Erik the Red. No, that title had fallen on (Y/N)'s shoulders, and he accepted it.

"Come now," Kaysan gave his shoulder a small playful push. "You hardly need to match up to him, (Y/N). You're a smart man, and a loyal one at that; and, from what I've heard, you're quite charismatic when you wish to be."

"Have you been gossiping with the others, Kay?" (Y/N) questioned with a teasing grin, casting a glance at the man over his shoulder. It hardly counted as gossip, he supposed. Things with Harald never lasted long, whether he pulled away first or Harald did, but they always returned to each other in a desperate clash. It was vexing and tiresome, and he'd made up his mind a long time ago to put his foot down when it came to the charming prince.

Kaysan gave a light shrug. "It surprised us, is all."

The thumping of footsteps, soft panting, and clinking of lanterns swaying filled the tunnel, and (Y/N) had heard the panting noise enough times to recognize who it belonged to. He made brief eye contact with Kaysan and turned, raising his lantern high and smiling at the sight of his brother, although it faltered slightly when Harald appeared behind him.

"Keeping an eye on things?" Leif asked, his hand rubbing affectionately into (Y/N)'s shoulder when he passed him by. The two Vikings carried sacks slung over their shoulder, no doubt the last of the sulfur they needed to ensure the wall would completely collapse and allow them within. (Y/N) gave a silent nod, feeling Harald's eyes burning into the side of his skull.

"Future King of Norway," Kaysan greeted teasingly, patting Harald's arm and taking the sack from Harald so he could insert the last of it into the dirt walls around them. Harald chuckled breathlessly in return, tearing his eyes away from (Y/N) to study the dirt room. (Y/N) allowed himself to watch him, taking in the grime and blood covering his exposed biceps and face. He'd ridden off to battle once more, no doubt a failure as all the battles before.

"As soon as we take this castle," Harald murmured, his hands coming to rest at his hips. (Y/N) swallowed, his gaze sliding away from the beautiful prince as bitterness settled in his stomach. Despite the years that'd passed, Harald's mind never changed on what he truly desired above all else: the throne of Norway, one occupied by the son of a man Harald once considered a close friend.

"Is there really as much treasure inside as you say?" Kaysan asked, voice strained as he worked to shove the rolls of sulfur into the wall with Leif's help.

"Enough to fund all our dreams," Harald replied.

(Y/N) hooked his lantern on one of the wooden posts and crouched down beside him, rolling up the dark blue sleeves of his tunic and revealing the ink along his right arm. The creature his mother would tell tales of back in his youth; a sea monster that resembled an octopus but grew to be as large as a warship named Kraken.

The head and body of the began around his bicep while the tentacles expanded and wrapped around his forearm, stopping around his wrist. He understood why so many others covered themselves with ink, whether writings or designs. The Kraken reminded him of his mother, of all the times he spent on a boat watching his brother and father hunt for narwhals and other sea beasts.

Dipping his hand into the sack, he wrapped his fingers around one of the rolls and carefully lifted it before he pushed it into one of the holes in the wall. He rolled it side to side, scrapping and mushing dirt until the roll was securely in place. He mimicked the movements with a few more rolls, absentmindedly listening to the three men speak about the plan until he finished, his fingertips lightly dusted in the vibrant yellow powder. (Y/N) stood back up and turned, nearly barreling into Harald's chest plate.

"Can we speak?" Harald asked softly, and (Y/N) felt his skin burn at the knowing glances cast in their direction from Kaysan and Leif.

"We have little to speak about, Harald." (Y/N) told him, scooping his lantern back into his hand and making his way through the tunnel. Harald followed him because the man never took an answer he didn't want, and (Y/N) largely ignored him until they reached the entrance of the tunnel and stepped out into the blinding light of the late evening.

"There's much to speak about, actually. Starting with the most important thing-"

"The throne?" (Y/N)'s features scrunched up, his spotty vision slowly adjusting to the daylight around them. He blinked a few times and his vision finally focused on the bustling camp around them. His gaze darted back to Harald's face, catching the grimace that passed over his features at his words before the general cleared his throat.

"No, I do not... I don't wish to speak of the throne. I know how you feel about it. You know how I feel about it." Harald frowned, his lips nearly covered by his thick beard. He took the lanterns from his hands and hung them up by the entrance, a heavy sigh escaping him. "You've done well in Constantinople for many years. I've seen you flourish. You're not as guarded as you once were. If you can do well in a court like the Emperor's, you'd do even better in a Viking court amongst your own people."

"Except it'd be your court with Christian jarls and Vikings who believe me worshipping a god that isn't theirs is a crime punishable by death. Your religion loves violently, Harald, as do its supporters. They'd condemn you for everything you've done with me." (Y/N) scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief and walking forward deeper into camp toward his tent. They'd had the conversation many times over the last few years, a neverending dance of push and pull trying to tire each other out into admitting defeat. But they were Vikings, and Vikings never gave up easily.

(Y/N) stepped through the flaps of his tent and released a heavy sigh, his feet guiding him to the basin sat on the table filled with warm water. He dipped his hands inside, cleaning the dirt and sulfur off his fingers until the water turned murky. The tent flaps rustled with the arrival of someone else stepping into his tent and he peeked over his shoulders, half-expecting to see Harald but only seeing Dorn. She smiled at him, her hands and sleeves of her blue tunic steeped in dark red. He crinkled his nose.

"Trust me," She sighed. "I know how it smells."

"Come wash your hands, then." (Y/N) smiled, picking up a rag and drying his hands with it as she stepped up and eagerly rinsed her hands clean of pig's blood. Her eyes flickered up toward him a few times, her lips twisting and teeth digging lightly into them. He tilted his head at her and took a seat at the table, reaching out to pluck a grape from the bowl in the center. "What is it, Dorn?"

"Batu and I were speaking the other day, and the topic of you and Harald came up." She began softly, thumb roughly rubbing into the skin of her palm until the streak of blood disappeared. Dorn raised her drenched hands toward her face, wiping off the grime and splatters of blood that'd collected on her skin. "I always wondered what went wrong between you both. When we meet... it seemed as if you two had much unspoken business. Then, during our trip to Constantinople, it all became clear. You were lovers, or former lovers, it was hard to tell at times but you... loved each other. We thought you had reconciled from whatever had occurred and yet..."

"I've come to learn that love is complicated, and at most times it's the worst thing that can occur. Harald is... a lot of things, too many things, truly. If you are worried that the same will happen between you and Batu, I can certainly assure you that it will not. Batu loves you, Dorn. I can see that you love him. You're happy together, content. Neither of you desires more than what you have now. Harald does. He hungers for far too many things, and it will eventually be his ruin. I do not wish to be dragged along with him."

"But you love each other?" Dorn questioned, wiping away droplets of water from her chin and drying her hands on her pants. (Y/N) plopped the grape into his mouth and bit into it, feeling the juices explode along his tongue as he mulled over her question. He loved Harald, he knew that well, but part of him resented him too. Most days, Harald made him wonder if he loved him, or merely lusted after him.

"It's complicated." He answered quietly, and Dorn winced, giving a meek nod and turning on her heel to leave the tent. He watched her depart, a mixture of emotions coiling around his heart and constricting it. (Y/N) released a shaky inhale and ran his hand over his face, forcing away the thoughts of Harald and their odd relationship to focus on preparing himself for a good night's rest and a long morning.

Seven years had passed, but it barely changed either of them.

The following morning, (Y/N) and the others awoke and began preparing for the day ahead before the sun had even risen over the horizon. They changed into clothes more worthy of battle, putting on their armor and chain mail before collecting their weapons. (Y/N) secured his dagger to his hip and retrieved a battle axe, a hefty yet powerful thing that'd do more swift damage than his dagger. By the time the sun rose, the Varangian army had gathered around awaiting instructions.

"Ready?" Leif asked softly, instinctively reaching out to check the straps of (Y/N)'s armor. The younger man smiled and allowed him to do so without fuss, a soft chuckle leaving him when Leif gave an approving nod, his fingers running over the chain mail before his arms dropped back to his sides.

"As always." (Y/N) sighed, glancing at Harald when the prince approached them. The deep furrow in his brows softened when they locked eyes, the determination in his gaze disappearing into a look of longing. Harald had grown over the years, all his training with a disciplined army making him stronger, and larger. His hair had grown, as had his beard, and on the days the two managed to keep the peace without arguments, Harald allowed him to trim them. He looked older, more king than prince, and it made his stomach churn to admit it to himself.

Harald walked past them with a nod, coming to a stop at the entrance of the tunnel and peering into the darkness inside where Batu and Kaysan waited for the right moment. They were to draw the attention of the soldiers and coax them into attacking first so the flames from their attack ignited the trail leading to the sulfur. Once ignited, the two had to run before the tunnel exploded and the wall fell. Harald raised his battle axe and lightly tapped the bell, the one Batu needed to ring when the plan sprung into action.

"You never were good at waiting, were you?" Leif arched a brow, wrapping his fingers around the bell to stop it from swaying and tolling. A small, playful smile tugged at Harald's lips. "Patience. It won't be long now, friend."

"Patience is hardly one of Harald's best attributes." (Y/N) murmured, a hint of teasing in his voice that drew Harald's lips into a full smile. Harald's hand reached out toward him, his palm pressing over his hip and sliding over his lower back; fingers dipping under the silver armor and pressing into the fabric beneath. His touch always felt protective and safe, but it never failed to fill (Y/N) with a false sense of hope.

"It has always been one of yours, though," Harald spoke softly, his fingertips rubbing the fabric into (Y/N)'s skin affectionately. His eyes crinkled, and despite everything that'd been bubbling up inside (Y/N)'s stomach, he returned the smile. The prince's hand moved to the base of his neck, squeezing the exposed skin there lightly. To any strangers, it may have come across as two close friends merely speaking. But it was simply because Harald couldn't touch his face in public as he desired. "We should speak after the battle, (Y/N). I cannot allow another day to pass without us having a conversation."

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) gave a small nod and wrapped his fingers over Harald's wrist. "Fine, Harald." Harald's features brightened and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together before he released him as the bell began to toll.

The enemy had fallen right for Leif's trap, just as they had hoped.

Harald clapped Leif's shoulder and trekked back to his post atop a mound of dirt overlooking his army of seven hundred men and women. He began his speech, his words of encouragement riling up the army into cheers and shouts, warrior cries and calls. (Y/N) lingered by the tunnel's entrance, searching the dark for any sign of Batu and Kaysan as the army erupted into more cheers and cries. He spotted movement and Batu emerged, his armor slightly singed and parts of him coated in ash. (Y/N) waited with bated breath for Kaysan, but he never emerged,

"Leif," (Y/N) turned to look at his brother, giving a light shake of his head. Leif's jaw clenched and he inhaled sharply, tossing his axe to Batu and motioning for him to join the others before he entered the tunnel, the darkness swallowing him and voice echoing off the walls until it grew distant and hardly audible.

The cries and war horns sounded off through the valley as the army moved, rushing toward the wall their tunnel had led to. The ground gave a light tremor, and through the darkness, Leif emerged with Kaysan leaning on his body, a trickle of blood seeping down from his temple as dark smoke escaped from within the tunnel. (Y/N) called over one of the healers, helping his brother hand Kaysan off to the older man before the two turned and spotted the wall crumbling into a heap of smoke and dust. General Maniakes' men sprinted into action, following after the Varangians and joining the battle.

"Come!" Leif called to him, taking two axes for himself and running toward the fortress with (Y/N) hot on his heels.

Stepping through the rumble of the fallen wall, all that could be heard were cries of anger and pain, the clashing of metal against metal, and the thumping of rushing footsteps as all armies hurried to fight and defend. (Y/N) moved forward, locking onto the first Saracen soldier he saw and swinging his axe. The soldier blocked with his shield and then pulled it away to thrust his sword forward, but (Y/N) anticipated the attack and dodged, raising his axe and embedding the blade into the side of the soldier's throat.

Taking the shield for himself, (Y/N) used it to block attacks from other soldiers, shoving them back and into expecting Varangians who struck the soldiers down with cries and heaves. The first wave of soldiers fell easily and (Y/N) heard Harald's victory cry sound off throughout the air, the tight crowd dispersing throughout the fortress to attack, take, and conquer as they made their way to the castle. The people residing within the walls had quickly fled to the castle for sanctuary, leaving the place largely deserted apart from the second and then the third wave of soldiers.

By the time they reached the castle gates, Emperor Romanos had joined them, and with his appearance came a plea for parley that momentarily stopped the fighting. (Y/N) found his way to Leif, standing beside him and Dorn as the gates into the castle slowly parted, revealing soldiers inside and the people that'd taken refuge watching from windows or along the roofs. Their ruler, the Emir of Syracuse, waited in the center, clad in clothes and robes of gold and black. He walked forward, and despite his city having been sacked, his face remained unreadable.

"Emir," Emperor Romanos spoke, "We have reached your barbican and taken your city. Your castle is surrounded. I have come to ask for your surrender, to save your people unnecessary suffering and death." Leif stepped forward, beginning to repeat his words in Arabic but the Emir raised his hand to stop him.

"A translator is not necessary. I understand you perfectly." He said, waving Leif off before he turned his attention back to Emperor Romanos, his dark eyes studying the shorter man before him. "There will be no surrender. As we speak, a great Saracen army is on its way from Cairo and Alexandria to join us. When it arrives it will be you who is surrounded and destroyed."

"For your sake, you should hope it arrives soon." Emperor Ramons responded.

There seemed to be a certain smugness that passed over the Emir's features, finally breaking the serious stare. "We are not worried. We have food and supplies to last us many months."

"But no water." Leif piped up, and the smugness promptly vanished, the furrow in Emir's brows disappearing and the corner of his lips turning downwards. "Syracuse has six wells. I diverted water from five. Your supply will last a week at most."

At that, Emperor Romanos grinned. "Perhaps your allies will reach you and destroy us before that happens, or perhaps they won't and..." His eyes raised and dragged over the people watching and listening, amongst them women and frightened children. The Emir's head turned and (Y/N) followed his line of sight to a woman with three children at her side, all of various ages. His wife and children, he assumed. "Syracuse will perish. But either way.. many will die. And all will suffer."

"Then I offer another solution," The Emir said, tearing his attention away from his family to look back at them. "Single combat between two fighters. If you are victorious, Sycaruse is yours and you have my promise that my warriors will not retaliate. If you lose, you must depart and not return. Either way, my people must not be harmed."

"And who would your warrior be?" The Emperor inquired with a slight tilt of his head. (Y/N) glanced toward Harald, and then General Maniakes. The brutal, hate-filled man had hardly done much to win his ruler's approval over the last days, at least in comparison to Harald who'd handed him the fortress on a golden platter with little trouble. The Emperor himself would never fight, but he'd certainly unleash his favorite dog on the enemy.

"Me," Emir answered icily. "And yours?"

"I fight for the empire." General Maniakes deep voice rumbled as he stepped forward but Emperor Romanos raised his hand to stop him, shaking his head and turning to look over his shoulder at Harald. The corners of his lips twisted up into a smile, one that made General Maniakes scowl and glare viciously at Harald.

"You will fight my Varangian." Emperor Romanos responded, striding forward toward the Emir and giving a dip of his head. "And you have my promise. Your people will not be harmed and our agreement, honored."

(Y/N) remained silent the walk back to camp, his gaze bouncing between the floor and staring holes into the back of Harald's head as they entered Leif's tent alongside the others. He approached the basin and dipped a rag inside, roughly wiping his hands and face clean to distract himself from his churning mind. He could feel the irritation creeping up his back, an annoyance he couldn't quite pin on anyone. Batu sharpened Harald's axe in thought, the sound filling the silence while Kaysan helped Harald adjust his armor.

"If we were in Novgorod, I could sell a thousand seats and make enough to retire," Batu said and laughed heartily, his words only reminding (Y/N) of the countless times Harald had thrown himself into battle without thinking. He scarcely had good memories of Novgorod, and the ones he remembered vividly were of Harald bloody and battered.

Without thinking, (Y/N) sent Batu a glare sharp enough to get his friend to hurriedly clamp his mouth shut and wince. He cleared his throat and diverted his eyes, subtly motioning for Kaysan and him to make their exit. Kaysan nodded and stood up from his stool, giving Harald a pat on the shoulder as Batu handed him his axe back and smiled encouragingly before the two quickly slipped out of the tent; leaving Harald alone with the two brothers.

"We can select three weapons. I'll start with the battle axe." Harald spoke, approaching the weapon's table and setting the axe alongside the rest. (Y/N) inhaled deeply through his nose and rubbed his fingertips against his temple to soothe the beginnings of a headache away before it could consume him. Leif remained equally as silent and it finally made Harald cave. "You're both quiet, which means you're either angry or worried about something. Perhaps both."

"I worry you underestimate him," Leif revealed with a sigh, raising his head to look at his friend with a growing frown. Harald scoffed, his brows furrowing as his eyes darted between the two brothers, almost as if offended they'd doubt him. (Y/N) squeezed the water out of the rag and set it aside to dry, finally looking up at the prince.

"I underestimate no man who's trying to kill me." Harald retorted, turning his irritated stare onto the weapons spread out in front of him. "We'll both be fighting for our lives."

"No, only you will be." Leif's lips formed a grim line, feet moving slowly as he approached his friend and motioned in the direction of the castle. "He is fighting for his people."

"As am I-"

"What people? Yours or Romanos's?" Leif questioned him sharply, arching his brows and drawing a scowl from Harald. (Y/N) leaned his hip back against the table, his arms folding over his stomach. Harald and his short temper... it was a mystery how the man had lived for so long without getting himself killed.

"I fight today for the same reason I've been fighting for the last seven years! For treasure." It stung, even if (Y/N) had seen it coming, piercing his stomach and sucking him dry of the false hope. "So I can return to Norway and assume the throne of my people, which is rightfully mine. Nothing else."

"I am glad to hear my brother and I are hardly considered things you fight for, Harald, after we've spent the last seven years fighting and living in a foreign country for you." (Y/N) seethed, and the tension in Harald's shoulders disappeared, his eyes squeezing shut and a silent curse forming on his lips. His chest heaved with a sigh and he stepped past Leif, his arm extending to grab him but (Y/N) smacked it away with a scoff. "I can understand caring little for a bedmate but Leif deserves to be someone you fight for after everything he's done for you."

"A bedmate- (Y/N), I-"

"Enjoy your fight, General." (Y/N) shoved past him forcibly and rounded the table before Harald could attempt to stop him. He threw the flaps of the tent apart and stepped out into the sunlight, taking a sharp inhale of the fresh air to calm the fury and hurt dancing along his veins. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his dagger, allowing himself to take a few more steadying breaths.

He'd made the right decision years prior, he reminded himself. Harald proved it to him time after time. He just needed a reminder every once in a while, even if it hurt.

(Y/N) avoided looking in Harald's direction once he finished preparing for the fight, only focusing on following Emperor Romanos into the castle where they'd set up an area for the fight. He broke away from the Emperor's tight crowd to stand behind the table where Batu placed Harald's other two choices of weapon: a smaller battle axe and a sword, with the larger battle axe being the one he walked into the makeshift arena with.

"He didn't mean to say it like that," Leif said quietly, always the one forced to make peace between them. (Y/N) pursed his lips and clasped his hands in front of himself, his fingers wrapping tightly around his palm. "I know you called yourself a bedmate to hurt him, (Y/N). You've seen how desperate he's been these past three years; you've seen how he gets when he hears you have a new lover. You are much more to him than that."

"But not enough to desire a different destiny for himself." Leif fell quiet at that, his softened eyes gazing into the side of his brother's face before he sighed softly and looked forward toward the two fighters when they entered the arena and assumed their positions. Despite his lingering hurt, worry jabbed at his stomach for Harald.

Harald moved first, swinging his axe upward to knock back the Emir's sword, but the Emir moved swiftly, turning on his feet and facing Harald before he could turn around. Harald's jaw ticked and he studied his opponent, switching which hand held the axe before he charged again, grasping the axe with both hands and taking a few swings at him; metal clanging through the air as the Emir swiftly blocked each swing with his sword until Harald turned his axe and slammed the blunt end against his chest, forcing him back a few steps.

The Emir grunted and grabbed Harald's axe, shoving it back and mimicking his movement as he slammed the handle of his sword repeatedly into Harald's chest which forced Harald to stumble backward and just barely dodge a swing from the sword. The Emir charged, giving Harald hardly any time to dodge another swing but he managed to duck down in time and create some distance between them to reassess his approach. The Emir sneered, baring his teeth and grasping the handle of his sword with both hands. He was a good fighter, as all rulers had to be.

Harald charged again, slamming the end and top of his axe repeatedly against the Emir's side before slamming the top near his armpit and forcing him back roughly against the stone wall. The Emir released a shout at the impact and shoved the axe away, slashing his sword at Harald and missing his chest plate by an inch or so. Harald swung again, only for his axe to slam into the wall and break in half, leaving him without a weapon.

With the half still in hand, he managed to defend himself by blocking the Emir's attacks as he sprang and walked backward toward the table. He threw the broken piece at the Emir's head, nearly hitting his ear, and swiftly turned on his heel to snatch both weapons from the table. He faced the Emir once more, eyes narrowing when the Emir approached his own table and took two new swords into his hands. They stared at each other for a brief moment, catching their breaths.

The Emir charged first with a cry - perhaps growing emboldened with the trickle of blood seeping from Harald's brow - and swung both his swords at him relentlessly, turning and swinging as he followed Harald's quick dodges. Harald nearly sank his axe into the Emir's face in a quick turn but the Emir dodged it in time. They continued back and forth, swinging and dodging hits from each other with grunts and cries. They moved viciously and relentlessly, switching between fighting offensively and defensively within seconds as they grew more enraged and desperate for a win.

Harald managed to swipe at the Emir's feet and knock him onto the gravelly ground, the Emir's foot rising up quickly to slam into Harald's knee and knock him down into a kneeling position. The Emir moved onto his knees as well, the blows they swung at each other forcing them to remain kneeling until the Emir launched himself forward and Harald threw himself backward, both men rolling along the floor. Harald moved onto his side and attempted to stab the Emir in the side with his sword but the Emir slashed right through the blade, leaving him with a sword resembling a knife.

The two men scrambled upright and assessed each other again, sucking in large gulps of air and staring each other down. Harald switched the way he held his broken sword and the swing-block dance resumed until Harald swung at the Emir's and was cut just above the elbow. He released a cry of pain and sound around, wincing as he touched his bleeding arm before looking up at his opponent. The Emir stared at Harald, his breathing turning wheezy and his feet staggering. (Y/N) caught the gleam of the broken sword jammed right below the Emir's armpit.

The Emir raised his arm and stumbled forward again, a look of distraught passing over his features as he fell to his knees and slumped forward. While Emperor Romanos's men erupted into cheers of victory, (Y/N) couldn't help but look in the direction of the Emir's wife, watching the tears stream helplessly down her face. Her husband had fought bravely, not just for his people but for her and their children. (Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek.

His father had fought and killed countless of men, simply because he could and felt like it, but at least in Greenland, when you killed a man it was because it was necessary. For food, shelter, to defend your family. But in Constantinople, they took lives to make an emperor richer. They killed for treasure they hardly used, and for little else.

(Y/N) grimaced. He missed home.

73 notes · View notes

loupy-mongoose · 1 year ago

Text

*Ahem*

Happy Halloween!! ^w^

Bug Fables.

It's my current favorite video game, and actually, you can thank it for Linden Roots existing~

I'll explain, but in order to do so I have to dive into spoilers for one of my absolute favorite plots for one of my absolute favorite characters, so I need to slap on a;

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

In my opinion, this game is best experienced SPOILER FREE, so if you haven't played it and want to some day, I recommend skipping my info dump below. (This info can be acquired before beating the main game though. :>)

You're okay with spoilers? Yes? Okay, carry on.

So.

Those who are familiar with Leif's story will probably see how Bug Fables influenced the creation of Linden Roots.

A long while ago, I mentioned Randy being inspired by my favorite fictional character.

That's Leif.

Leif is a moth who is ancient.

And dead.

Loooooong before the game takes place (I can't find an exact timeframe; it's like a generation or two), Leif went with a team of bugs to explore a cave, but ended up dying in there. In that same cave, a group of scientists later experimented on cordyceps. Now, as soon as they became relevant to the story I was HOOKED.

I learned about cordyceps as a kid, and they scared the crap out of me. But it also was one of those morbidly fascinating things I'd look into once in a while. (Before anyone tells me, yes, I know that's what's in The Last of Us.)

If you don't know, IRL cordyceps basically turn bugs into zombies.

Anyway, the scientists were trying to find a way to create eternal life (what else is new lol), and did this through cordyceps. Which, as one could guess when dealing with zombie fungus, ended up going badly for the scientists.

One of the "failed" experimental fungi was thrown out, and found its way to the deceased Leif, and brought him back to life. It took on his memories, and Leif woke up without knowing what happened, until you dig into his story during the game. So the "Leif" we know in the game isn't truly Leif, but is the fungus living as him.

Now... I'm sure that sounds a bit familiar...

This idea of a character being dead-but-not struck a chord with me. It fascinated me to no end.

But there's more to it.

As one might expect, Leif has some tragedy surrounding him.

While playing the game, you can stumble upon his decedents.

This here is Muze. With a 'z'

This is Leif's great great however-many-greats grand-daughter, who you meet in the game's present day.

When he was alive, he had a wife.

His wife was Muse. With an 's'.

We never get to see what Muse looked like, but he says in-game that Muze is a spitting image of her. Hence why Akoya is dressed as she is in my pic. She's dressed as Muse.

Now, according to the developers, Muse was pregnant when Leif went into the cave where he died.

And he didn't know.

There are several moments in the game that show Leif's potential as a father, but one in particular stood out to me.

(Note for the images; Leif refers to himself as "We/Us".)

Oops, I forgot one. Vi finishes by shouting "I said it's not happening!"

The text in the last shot bounces/wiggles in-game, indicating playfulness or joking.

If you're familiar with Goombario and Goombella in the Paper Mario games, this dialogue is this game's version of that. You can have the main characters give flavor text on any area and most characters in the game. (And I recommend doing it often, as it adds SOOO much to the game! ^v^)

This bit takes place in the first room after Kabbu and Vi meet Leif. And at the end of the room, an event happens to change what's said for the rest of the game. Meaning, the only time you see it is RIGHT after they meet; He was getting playful with these two bugs he'd met only moments ago.

I'm sure it can just be seen as sarcasm, but having found this dialogue after learning about Leif missing out on raising a child, I saw it as a clue that he would've been a great dad. And it shattered me. ;w;

Randy and Akoya are wish-fulfillment. They're my version of Leif and Muse. They're my way of giving Leif and Muse what I'm sad they missed out on, while also keeping some of the angst, lol. Thankfully, they've evolved into their own separate characters that I feel I can be proud of, but Leif's story and tragedy still has a deep, well-protected place in my heart.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my ramble. I accept no blame for any potential spoiler you might've seen against your will. XD

#Pokemon #Linden Roots #Art #Bug Fables #<3

313 notes · View notes

hederasgarden · 6 months ago

Text

Other Characters/Fandoms Masterlist

House of the Dragon

Series

Sins of the Father (Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader | Mature | Ongoing Series)

When the Greens win the Dance of the Dragons, your father must answer for his support of Rhaenyra.

Oneshots

Bloodlust (Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader | Explicit | 1.8K)

After battle, Aemond visits your tent.

The Batman

Everyone’s a Secret (Bruce Wayne x F!Reader | Ongoing | Explicit)

It’s bad enough when your one night stand is later revealed to be the reclusive Bruce Wayne but your life gets infinitely more complicated when photos of that night make the front page news.

Mistakes Were Made (Bruce Wayne x F!Reader | Ongoing | Gen)

When you take the job as Bruce Wayne’s publicist, you’re prepared for some surprises but finding out he’s Batman isn’t one of them. The good news is you’re not fired. The bad news? Batman definitely needs some PR help.

Halo

Oneshots

Everything They Made Me (John 117 x Makee l Explicit l 1.7K)

How weak must she be that a simple kindness undoes her so? (A missing scene from episode 8.)

Moon Knight

Oneshots

Nothing Lasts But Light (Layla El-Faouly x Reader x Marc Spector l Explicit l 3.4K)

You love Layla enough to accept anything, even Marc.

Top Gun

Oneshots

A Lesson in Patience (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader | Explicit l 1.4K)

Your boyfriend wants to try something new.

Drabbles

Take a Seat (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader | Explicit | 845)

Rooster invites you to take a seat on his face.

His Goofy Girl (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader | Gen | 630)

You have an entertaining reaction to the anesthesia used for your wisdom tooth extraction, much to Rooster ‘s amusement and embarrassment.

Vikings Valhalla

Oneshots

New Beginnings (Harald Sigurdsson x F!Reader l Mature l Series on hiatus)

You are chosen to wed King Harald in order to cement the alliance between King Canute’s growing kingdom and Norway.

A Quiet Interlude (King Canute x F!Reader l Explicit l 1.2K)

After the death of Queen Ælfgifu, you become King Canute’s new wife.

Drabbles

Heartbeat (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Explicit l 874)

When your home is attacked, you see a different side of Leif.

Persistence (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Teen l 658)

Many men have come for your hand but Leif is the first you let into your heart.

The Rescue (Leif Eriksson x F!Reader l Gen l 431)

You hate frat parties but Harald’s new friend might just change your mind. (Modern AU)

Wicked Games (Godwin x OC l Explicit l 662)

The new Elderman of Wessex has met his match with Lady Aida.

♡Main Masterlist♡

90 notes · View notes

fantasydreamland · 2 months ago

Text

New Friend

leif eriksson x fem reader

Summary: You quickly become good friends with a man you have just met. His crew is set out for battle and in need of your healing skills. As you accompany them on the journey you grow even closer to your new friend.

Notes: 18+ only!!! Mostly fluff, some smut, some spoilers kinda, mini chapters

word count: 3607

masterlist

Chapter 1

“Who is that?” Leif asks Freydis, staring toward the ships docking.

“I do not know. It looks like a returning merchant ship.” Freydis responds. “Why?”

Leif shrugs in response and walks off stealing glances in your direction. He watches you from the other side of the dock and when your bright (e/c) eyes connect with his he doesn’t look away. It surprises him when you hold the eye contact and give him a bashful smile. He smiles back before you turn away continuing on with unloading the boat.

Later that night there is a feast in the main hall. The room bustles with loud conversation and laughter as everyone enjoys their food and drink. Leif occasionally glances around the room in search of you.

“Who are you looking for?” Freydis asks.

“What?” Leif says caught off guard. “No one.” He shrugs and looks down as he eats his food.

The night goes on and the tables become less crowded as the ale puts to sleep those who over indulged. Leif finally notices you on the opposite side of the hall. He frowns when he sees you sitting alone looking tired and sad.

“Excuse me.” Leif says to the table before getting up.

He casually wanders his way over to you. Your eyes meet his as he cautiously approaches the table and sits across from you. You look at him with a confused smile and questioning eyes.

“Hi.” He finally says. “I’m Leif. Eriksson.”

“Hi.” You smile. “(y/n).”

He gently shakes your hand, your soft fingers brushing against his calloused ones.

“You looked so lonely over here.” He says almost as a question. “I felt I needed to come and check on you.”

“Well, thank you sir.” You smile even warmer at him.

Your smile made his heart swell. He nearly missed what you said next because he was so hypnotized by it.

“My supper companions… have found company for the night.” You say jokingly rolling your eyes.

“Are you merchants?” He asks.

“Better healer than a tradesman I’m afraid. But I travel with the merchants usually. It’s a good way to see some of the world, and they are always in need of a healer.” You instantly begin to open up to him, not really understanding why.

“So you are from Kattegat then?”

“Yes, I was born here. My mother died of illness not long ago… I never knew my father. It will always be home but I want to go out and live my life, you know? We only have so much of it…”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your blush when you realize you’re over sharing to this total stranger.

“I am sorry to hear about your mother.” He places a hand on yours.

You simply nod in response as you choke back the incoming tears.

“So, where are you from?” You ask him, desperately wanting to change the topic.

“Greenland.” He simply says.

“What brings you to Kattegat?”

“I am just passing through.” He lightly shrugs.

“Oh? And how long are you staying?”

“We leave in two days.”

You try to hide your slight disappointment but Leif notices the change in your face.

“We… are in need of a healer.” He suggests. “If you would be willing to come.”

“Where are we going?” You phrase the question as if you’ve already decided.

“That is um… complicated. It would be best if you did not know.” He hesitates.

“Ok…” You furrow your brows at him. “Is it far?”

“No. Not far at all. We are traveling by foot but we also have some horses. Myself and a small crew. It should only take us a few days to get there.”

“Ok… and why are we going to this mysterious place that I shall not know of?” You ask, your expression unreadable.

“There is a battle to be had…” He says lowly.

“Ok…” You say once again. “…and what is this battle?”

“It um- would be best if you did not know that either.” He knew how it all sounded so he did not expect your next words.

“Well… in that case I better go and sleep off this ale. If there is to be a battle, I have much to prepare before we depart.” You say as you stand from the table.

“I- uh- ok. Ok great.” Leif says in surprise. “I can walk you to your house?”

You nod with a smile and take his arm before leaving the hall. Leif makes light conversation with you as you walk the short path to your small house. Your arm fits around his so comfortably but the feeling makes your cheeks burn. You let go once you arrive at your door.

“Goodnight then, Greenlander.” You smile. “I shall see you in the morning?”

“Yes. Yes, see you in the morning.” He smiles back. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

—

Chapter 2

You meet with Leif the next morning and he introduces you to the small crew.

“This is Harald Siguredsson… And my sister, Freydis Eriksdotter.”

You get acquainted with everyone as they welcome you warmly. You discuss medicines and other things you may need for the travels. Leif keeps his eyes firmly on you as you talk with the others but you pretend not to notice.

“I shall see all of you tomorrow then.” You say to the group once you’re finished, eyes lingering on Leif.

They say their goodbyes but Leif catches up to you as you turn away.

“Do you need help with preparing anything?”

You smile warmly at him and nod. “I could certainly use some help, yes.”

You walk back to your house and Leif follows you inside. He looks around your small but cozy space. The small kitchen has a large table in the corner covered in different herbs and flowers and multiple mortars scattered about it. There was curtains hanging in the doorway to a small bedroom. Through the crack he caught a glimpse of your bed and a tub in the corner. You begin to organize the messy table as you make your preparations.

“What can I do?” Leif walks over to you.

You smile up at him. Each time you smiled at him it made his heart skip a beat. You hand him a mortar and pestle along with some plants.

“I need you to grind these up for me. As fine as you can please, the leafs will start to form a paste.”

He simply nods and begins crushing the herbs before him. As you both work with busy hands you ask more about him and his life and he tells you of Greenland and of his family. He then asks you about yours and you tell him how you grew up on a small farm at the edges of Kattegat with your mother. She taught you all about plants and healing mixtures. After she died you moved to a smaller place and began the occasional travel with the merchants, making coin with your healing skills. You enjoyed the escape but you always returned home.

It felt oddly comfortable to open up to Leif. The conversation seemed to flow between you like you had known each other for years.

“When did she die?” Leif asks.

Your hands pause and you frown looking down.

“6 months ago.” You choke out as you hold back tears.

“I am sorry…” He places his hand over yours.

Tears still in your eyes, you give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand in response before resuming your preparations. After that you mostly work in comfortable silence, occasionally giving Leif a new plant to grind and him asking questions about what they do. Then there were the silent glances and smiles that made your heart beat a little faster.

Once everything was finally prepared the sun had begun to set. You say goodnight to each other as Leif gets ready to head back to the inn.

“Thank you so much for your help today.” You say as he stands in the open doorway. “You have helped me more than you know.”

“Anytime.” He simply smiles and heads out the door. “See you tomorrow!” He calls behind him.

“See you.” You say under your breath.

—

Chapter 3

The next morning you wake and gather up your things for the trip. You walk down to the inn that the majority of the crew were staying at. You see Freydis outside and she waves you over with a smile.

“Good morning!” She smiles as she grabs your bags from you and hands them to another man loading the cart.

“Thank you.” You smile. “And good morning.”

You see the whole crew on the move preparing for the trip. Until someone was sick or wounded there was not much else for you to do.

“Can I do anything to help?” You ask Freydis.

“Hmm, uh, yes actually! Can you go and wake Leif?” She asks. “He is still sleeping and we are leaving soon.”

“Uh, yes sure.” You nod.

“Thank you, he is in room 3.” She gestures her head to the inn. “Down the hall, last door on the left. Please be quick about it we are almost ready.”

You nod again and quickly make your way into the inn and find room 3 down the hall. You fully expected Leif to be asleep in his bed so you open the door knocking lightly. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see him standing there shirtless. Your eyes quickly trace over the tattoos on his muscular back before he turns around and notices you. You catch a glimpse of his bare hips as he pulls his pants up. Your eyes dart back up to his questioning ones. You have to focus to stop your eyes from wandering back down to where his hands were lacing up his pants, also bringing attention to his toned abs.

“I- uh. Sorry. We- uh. Um. We- uh.” The heat rises in your cheeks as you stand there feeling like a stuttering idiot.

You clear your throat and finally get the words out. “We are leaving…”

“Ok, I am ready. I was just getting dressed.” He says nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head, clearly not noticing how flustered you are.

You follow him out of the building and join the rest of the group as you head off for the journey.

—

Chapter 4

You walk all day with the group, sharing stories and laughs along the way. Considering you did not know where you were going or what battle awaited them you felt safe with your companions.

Once the sun begins to set you find a spot to camp for the night. You eat supper around the campfire chatting away to Freydis sitting beside you. Occasionally you would catch Leif watching you from across the fire.

The temperature drops as the night gets later. Everyone begins to say their goodnights and retreat to their tents. Soon you and Leif are left alone sitting across each other. Your eyes meet in glances causing a soft smile from Leif. You stare back into the fire to hide your blushing. Shivering a little, you pull your cloak tighter around yourself.

“You look cold.” Leif breaks the silence.

“How observant of you.” You playfully tease. “That would be because I am.”

“Why don’t you come over here? We can keep each other warm.” He smiles.

You meet his eyes for a moment before crawling around the fire and cuddling up beside him as he wraps his arm around you. The heat radiating from his body warms you instantly. You both sit in comfortable silence looking into the fire. After a moment he rests his head on top of yours making your heart swell. As soon as you rest your eyes you began to drift off to sleep. Leif could feel your body beginning to go limp and held you tighter.

“Hey…” He whispers to you as you wake again. “Why don’t you go and get some sleep? I’ll help you to your tent.”

“I am fine.” You say shaking off your sleepiness. You did not want to go back to your cold tent alone you just wanted to remain in his warm arms.

“Do you not want to sleep?” He pulls back to raise his eyebrow at you.

“I just want to remain here with you.” You sheepishly admit.

Leif can’t help the wide grin that comes to his face.

“Well, we cannot sleep out here in the cold.” He begins to move to stand.

“Leif-“ You grab his arm, making him sit back down.

His confused eyes meet yours but then soften when he understands the unspoken words behind your eyes while you stare deeply into his.

He leans towards you, eyes briefly glancing to your lips. He moves at a pace that causes the anticipation to ache in your chest. Finally, his lips brush against yours in a soft tender kiss. You could feel the sparks the second your lips touched like fireworks had just gone off inside you both. He pulls away softly and smiles to you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“We should get some sleep. We could continue to keep each other warm?” He says standing up and holding his hand out to you.

You nod and take his hand as he pulls you up to stand. He continues to hold onto your hand as he leads you to his tent, which was slightly larger than yours.

Once inside you shed your cloak and top layers, placing them in the corner. Leif does the same until you are both left in your thin shirts and bottoms. You crawl under the furs and cuddle up to him for warmth. He pulls you in close, wrapping both his strong arms tightly around you. Your heart races as his embrace feels so unfamiliar yet so comfortable. You close your eyes to sleep. He kisses the top of your head causing a smile to form on your lips. His steady heartbeat thumping against your ear causes you to quickly drift off into a peaceful sleep, more peaceful than either of you have had in a long time.

The next morning you throw the rest of your clothing back on and crawl out of Leif’s tent after your bladder had woken you up. You jump when your eyes are met by a single Viking already starting up the morning fire. Harald gives you a knowing smirk and raises his brow at you, glancing between you and Leif’s tent. You give him an embarrassed smile before you hurry away into the woods.

—

Chapter 5

You and Leif had not had a moment to speak alone as you traveled with the group for most of the day. You did not think you were acting any different but the others could sense something had shifted. When you finally stop to make camp you suggest that you and Leif should try to find some fish at the nearby river.

“How did you sleep?” Leif asks as you walk together.

“Very well.” You smile at him. “And you?”

“Very well.” He smiles back.

“I believe I can take some credit for your peaceful sleep.” You wink.

“I suppose I could do the same.” He smirks.

“I have never met anyone quite like you Greenlander.” You smile adoringly.

“I have never met anyone quite like you, (y/n). I think I-“ He pauses.

“What?” You turn to him as you both stop walking.

“I think I am in love with you.” He admits.

“Leif-“

Before you can respond he boldly grabs your face and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You freeze for a moment of surprise before relaxing against him and throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and his tongue slips in to gently caress yours. He is gentle and passionate and all you can think is how you love this man too.

“Leif…” You whisper when your lips part.

Your eyes meet and he looks at you with pure adoration.

“We have fish to catch…” You say and he nods removing his hands from your face.

“And…” You move your hand to brush his cheek with your thumb. “I think I am in love with you too.”

He grins widely and places another quick kiss to your lips. You hold his hand as you make your way to the river to catch some fish for supper.

—

Chapter 6

As soon as the sun began to rise so did the crew. You rush around with them as they pack up camp. They needed to continue traveling as soon as possible, they planned to reach the battle today.

They soon stop again to make one last camp in preparation for the battle. You had a tent set up with a large work table and you begin to prepare everything you may need following the fight.

Leif steps into your tent to say goodbye. He quickly cups your cheeks and gives a firm kiss to your lips. You pull him close as you kiss him back.

“Please do not die.” You whisper as your thumb strokes the hand on your face.

“I will do my best.” He places a final kiss to your forehead and walks out of the tent. He could not bear spending long to say goodbye to you knowing it could be the last time.

You had been pacing for hours now waiting for everyone to return from the battle. Waiting for Leif to return. The more time that passes the more you worry. There was a very real chance he may never return. A very real chance he had been killed. The thoughts swirl around in your mind and cause your chest to tighten.

Finally, you hear the commotion outside of people returning. You run out and desperately search around for Leif. You spot the rest of your crew and your heart sinks. You begin to walk over to Freydis but before she spots you a hand grabs your shoulder. You spin around to see Leif standing behind you shirtless, covered in blood and dirt, with wild messy hair. His face expressionless.

“Oh Leif!” You throw your arms around him not caring about the blood now staining your clothes. “I was so worried I had lost you for good… Are you hurt?” You pull back and examine him frantically for any noticeable wounds.

“I am fine. Can we go inside?” He says flatly.

You raise a brow at his tone but then nod and follow him into the tent. Once the curtains are shut you turn to Leif.

“Are you alright?” You barely get the words out before his lips are on yours, pulling you into a ferocious kiss that takes your breath away.

“No.” He mumbles against your lips. “There were moments… I thought I would never… see you again.” He says between kisses.

He cups your face and kisses you hungrily like a starved animal. The air is filled with a mountain of different emotions as you kiss him back with a burning passion. His tongue demands entrance and you happily oblige. The metallic taste of the blood on his lips makes you pull him closer to you, the fear of nearly losing him today too much to bear.

Suddenly he lifts you up and throws you down onto the table causing a bunch of things to clatter to the ground. You pay no attention to the fallen items as he starts kissing and nipping at your neck. You feel his hardness pushing against your core and it lights a fire within you. Your hands wander all over each other as your lips connect again. You run your fingers over his bloody chest and strong biceps as he moves to grab your breasts through your shirt.

As things become more heated you begin to tear at each other’s clothes. He shoves your skirts up to your hips and grinds harder against you, making you gasp into his mouth. He begins pulling the laces of your top as you frantically fumble with the strings of his pants. Your body felt electric from how desperately you needed him right now. Your mind was completely blurred by the feeling him.

Before you could get any further Freydis bursts into the tent startling you both.

“Oh… I- uh- I am sorry…” She stutters in surprise. “But we uh- need our healer out here.”

“Yes, of course of course. Apologies...” You quickly scramble to your feet and straighten yourself out.

Freydis gives you a nod and a knowing smirk to Leif before leaving the tent. You turn to Leif who’s now holding a damp rag. He gently wipes off the bit of blood from your face and neck. It was a sweet gesture although you knew you would be covered in blood again in a moment once you helped the wounded. His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you before kissing your forehead.

“Go on.” He gestures his head to outside.

“I am so glad you are alive and safe.” You grab his hands and kiss his lips once more.

He did not need to respond for you to know exactly how he felt. You smile and gaze lovingly at each other before you move to gather your supplies, including those now on the floor, and exit the tent. You tried not to let the overwhelming thoughts of him cloud your mind while you worked. You could not help but count the minutes until you could have privacy with him tonight.

36 notes · View notes