#skade x reader

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Angeeeeee

I'm suffering from terrible cramps at the moment and I just saw your requests are open especially for wlw

can I please have a Skade one where she helps reader with our monthly curse? smut pls I'm begging 🥺

🩶🩶🩶

Bru, my darling, I realise that your monthlies have likely ended by now. But I hope this serves as a comfort the next time Auntie Flo pays you a visit.

Warnings: Time of the month mentions, fingering but not quite, tiddy succin'. Word count: ~1200

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

You groan softly upon waking. The muted sunlight seeping through the canvas of the tent above your head indicates that it’s morning and has been for some time. You clutch at your lower belly with a muffled grunt, silently cursing your body for not allowing you a single waking moment’s peace from the curse of your moon’s blood. It’s your second day of bleeding and though you have tried your best to hide your discomfort from Skade, not wanting to hinder your progress as the two of you travel together, it is becoming more difficult to do so. The dull ache has grown to an insistent nag that plagues your every movement.

You stretch out an arm, surprised when you feel an empty bed roll instead of the warm body you’d expected to be next to you. You sit up slightly, wincing as the heaviness of your lower abdomen protests painfully, and peer through the slither of a gap in the entrance to your shared shelter.

Skade, flaxen hair cascading down her back as she hunches over a small fire, stirs a pot that’s suspended by a tripod of branches.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You call out to her.

She turns to you, before wordlessly moving to fill two wooden cups with the steaming liquid she’s been stirring and ducks into the tent. She hands you one and sits cross legged in front of you.

You sniff at the beverage, wrinkling your nose in distaste at the unappetising earthy scent. “What is this?”

“Nettle tea,” She says simply. “It helps me when I have my moon’s blood.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as she tells you this. She knew. Of course she knew. It was impossible to hide anything from Skade, she was too perceptive.

“I suppose we should start moving again soon, I have wasted half of the morning sleeping.” You say, eager to change the subject.

“We are going to stay here another day,” She tells you. “You need to rest.”

Your eyes widen, guilt blooms heavily within your chest. “That is dangerous…”

“I am dangerous,” She smirks. “No harm will come to us.”

“You cannot do this for me.” You plead, eyes wide. “We must keep moving.”

Skade sighs, rolling her eyes. “Women are afflicted by this because men are too weak willed to endure it, but there is no shame in being in pain. I see your suffering. Accept my help, and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

You smile gratefully at her and lift the cup to your lips, taking a sip. You grimace, the taste is bitterly unpleasant against your tongue. “That is vile,” You cough. “I cannot drink this!”

Skade grins, snatching your tea from you and turns slightly to place both yours and her cups just outside the entrance of the tent. She fixes you with an intense stare when she turns back, her blue eyes bright even in the shade of the canvas roof above you.

“I have another idea,” She begins. “Something that will soothe you.”

“Will you use your power?” You ask curiously, nervousness and excitement prickling at your skin.

She huffs a soft laugh, shifting forward and pushing you back as she hovers over you. “Not the power you’re thinking of. But this remedy is just as ancient.”

You stare up at her, heart fluttering wildly in your chest as the long waves of her golden locks fan around your face like a shroud. Her face is so close to yours that your lips are almost brushing, but when you lean in, she pulls back with a wolfish smile, a silent denial of what you seek.

Her fingertips deftly push up the hem of the rough spun linen of the shirt you wear, dancing delicately across the exposed flesh of your midriff, causing your breath to hitch. She smooths the flat of her palm over your stomach, before bringing it to rest against your lower abdomen, applying gentle pressure.

The warm sensation of it is a relief against the cramps you’ve been suffering. You sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

“Better?” Skade asks, her breath tickling softling against your cheek.

“Yes.” You whisper quietly, almost afraid that if you speak too loudly the moment will end.

It is then that she allows her lips to meet yours, slow and unhurried. You kiss back, relaxing as every movement serves to ease the tension in your body. You can taste nettle tea, but it is far sweeter upon her lips than it is from the cup.

Skade breaks away, moving to mouth at your neck and collarbones. Her free hand makes quick work of plucking open your shirt buttons, pushing the fabric apart to reveal your breasts to her.

You gasp, arching your back as she latches onto a nipple, swirling her tongue around it. The added sensitivity caused by your blood serves to heighten the sensation, waves of arousal causing you to clench around nothing.

It is then that you feel her hand move from your abdomen, her fingers breaching the waistband of the trousers you wear. You freeze, eyes going wide.

“What are you doing?” You ask in hushed panic.

Skade releases your breast with a wet pop and stares up at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You surprise yourself with how quickly you answer, how certain you sound, how sure you feel.

“Good.” She purrs, eyes darkened by lust. “Then let me do this. It will feel good.”

She moves her attention to the opposite nipple, laving her tongue across it before suckling gently, as her hand continues its downward trajectory. You jolt slightly as you feel her push her fingers across your mound, cupping roughly before pressing down to spread you open. Her middle finger seeks out your bud, circling slowly, and you shiver, whimpering at the way it makes you tense and throb.

Your whimpers increase in cadence, until they are lewd moans as her circles become tighter, faster, more precise. The coil in your gut winds impossibly tight and she kisses you feverishly as she feels you tense up, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you fall apart, white hot waves of pleasure rippling through you, all the way to your toes.

Skade withdraws her hand once you still, laying on her back beside you, watching you intently as you gasp for breath.

“Better?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

Once you are lucid enough to form a response, you notice that the ache inside you has disappeared almost entirely. You feel boneless in the wake of your peak. “Much.” You breathe.

“It’s a pity that the moon has not seen fit to align us, so that we may suffer this together.” She muses, rolling onto her side and stroking your hair.

“You would want to suffer with me?” You ask, your heart fluttering, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“For as long as the gods allow it.” She tells you, resting her head against your chest.

[witchthewriter]

hii! would you be willing to write for Skade too? she's a wlw icon to me lmao and she deserves more fanfics just like tlk itself <33

Oh my god yes! I would 100% write for Skade. She was actually terrifying and I loved her so much.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

The Curse

Pairing: Sihtric x Skade

Authors note: this story is for you my dear @alexagirlie and @thenameswinter99 I know Skade is not the most popular character and there probably won't be many readers to this fic but I loved her and I think she deserved better. So this is my attempt at giving her a happy ending.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, angst, mention of blood, curses, canon death of a character

Summary: as Uhtred's path crosses with the mighty seer Skade, there is only one way to break the pattern of violence and only one man capable of doing it as the power of love appears stronger than the power of hate

Word Count: 6,8 K 🙈 (I know, I'm sorry)

It was not the chill of the evening air, nor the fresh and cool breeze teasingly brushing its cold fingers against her skin, that made her shudder. She wouldn’t show it anyway. With fists clenched and nails digging into her flesh, her gaze lashed the group of men down the stairs, burning with hatred like a whip striking bare skin. 

It was that daunting feeling of utter helplessness, of being tossed and turned by the currents of fate, allowed only a sharp, desperate gasp that seared her aching lungs before being dragged back under the water, that made her stomach clench and her inner core tremble like a candle flame wavering in a draft. But not a muscle shuddered in her pale, sharply defined, beautiful face framed by an unruly swirl of blond hair. 

Once again, she was being betrayed and traded, passed from hand to hand like a mere commodity, a piece of silver exchanged for another's safety. In a different life, the naive girl she once was would have cried, bargained for her life and safety, begged not to be given away.

But that Skade no longer existed. She had drowned long ago in a sea of despairing tears, her grave dug by the greed and power-lust of men who saw her as nothing more than a plaything to fulfil their desires, a potion to quench their thirst for influence, a weapon to be used in their conquest for dominion. That small, trusting part of her died, killed by false promises and the realisation that there was no goodness left in those around her.

There had been times when she cursed her gift, praying to the gods to take it back, to release her from its crushing power. She had blamed it for her fate, for the darkness that trailed her, ripping away those she loved and leaving her alone and aching. But that was before. Before she surrendered and accepted the part of herself she had once despised. From the grave of her suffering, a new Skade was born – a proud creature of darkness, leaving a trail of pain and blood in her wake, destined to test those foolish enough to assume power over her, and to punish without remorse those who failed, and she had embraced that destiny fully. 

Heasten's ugly smirk and greedy, narrow eyes seemed to undress her with their gaze alone, making every hair on her body stand on end as she raised her head to meet the eyes of the men who dared treat her as a piece of merchandise.

The bearded Irishman's deep brown eyes looked back somewhat sheepishly, as if understanding the absurdity of the bargain struck moments ago. With her head held high, she turned to the young Dane standing on the other side of her.

His cautious mismatched gaze had puzzled her from the very beginning. She had been sure he despised her, anger flickering in the depths of those two pools, as he yanked her hands behind her back and put a gag on her mouth in an attempt to silence her. A coward, she had silently dubbed him. And yet it had been him who brought her fur and a bowl of hot stew on that first night in the dungeon. Why? What did he want from her? What hidden plan lurked behind those large, expressive eyes? What drove him? A yearning for power? Greed? Jealousy?

The annoying sound of the shutters creaking in the wind mixed with desperate cries of some lonely crow, slicing through the insidious calmness of the dark, added another layer of eeriness to the nightly scene. Sihtric could feel Skade’s frame trembling, though she tried to suppress it, to not show it, her words flowing from her full, sensual lips with the certainty of a queen. Yet he perceived it – that hidden inner quiver, the uneven shimmering of her misty breath in the air, her darting eyes like those of a trapped animal, her clenched fists betraying the facade. 

Uhtred and his ingenious plans - it was not the first time his lord's peculiar notions of honour and loyalty had brought them perilously close to the great gates of Valhalla. Sihtric did not mind, for it was part of the warrior's path he had willingly chosen when swearing his oath. He would have preferred to fight, to cleave through the Danes, painting the mud beneath his feet with their warm, thick blood. But the choice was made, and the bargain was struck although it didn’t feel right for him. 

Skade’s hair tickled Sihtric’s cheek, a fleeting feeling of unexpected softness alerting his already sharpened senses, as she turned her head, voice steady and laced with disdain, addressing Uhtred. 

“And you are cursed once more, Uhtred of Bebbanburg and you will wither.”

She was a danger, a venomous snake, her poison deadlier than the sharpest blade, seeping into the minds and souls of those who dared cross her path, twisting their thoughts, corrupting their very essence and bringing out the worst in men. A bringer of madness, a harbinger of chaos – those who underestimated her did so at their own peril. And yet, beneath the all consuming fire in those dazzling blue eyes, there was something fragile, a flicker of vulnerability that captured and didn’t let go of him. 

From the moment he first saw her, curses dripping from her lips, Sihtric felt an inexplicable urge to envelop her in the warmth of his embrace, offering a refuge from the darkness that had consumed her soul for too long.

Yet she wanted none of his comfort, her mind fixated on Uhtred from the instant their eyes met. She was a test sent by the gods, Sihtric was certain, and Uhtred was failing it spectacularly.

Skade turned, her burning gaze forcing Sihtric to meet her eyes, and for a fleeting moment  the world around him faded into an incoherent blur of sounds and images. "Cowards," her smirk seemed to challenge, or perhaps seek reassurance.

Sihtric longed to speak, but the words froze on his lips, the silent promise in his warm gaze swallowed by the night's darkness. She wanted none of his promises, yet he made one silently to himself - he would find her.

The old wooden steps creaked an eerie, mocking laugh as Skade took her first step down towards Heasten and his men. Unhurried yet unwavering, each measured stride carried her towards her new master and an altered fate, her steady gait betraying the admirable strength of will hidden beneath that fragile and slender frame. 

Heasten's extended hand remained frozen in midair, stopped by Skade's icy gaze, as she turned one last time towards the men standing on the top of the stairs. It was that last glance that remained burned into Sihtric’s mind - a warning, a challenge, an unspoken plea all mixed in one single flash of searing vulnerability. For the briefest of moments, her defiant mask slipped, offering him a glimpse of the fragile heart she guarded so fiercely, pleading for someone to finally see the woman beneath the iron shell.

"Sihtric, tell me this. Does Uhtred want me dead?" Skade's voice carried over the crackling fireplace, all eyes suddenly fixing on him.

A chill crept up his spine as he replied, "He's undecided. Can't make up his mind whether to hump you or kill you." The nonchalance in his voice sounded forced even to his own ears. It was the way she looked at him, suspicion sparking in her eyes. Though he may have fooled the men, blinded by ambition and rivalry, he had a feeling neither Brida nor Skade believed him completely. Yet neither woman had spoken against him either.

The atmosphere in the whole camp was more than peculiar, the air was charged with distrust and feuding. The gazes of drunken youngsters, drowning their concerns and boredom in ale, spoke of uncertainty and eagerness for something to happen, while the spirit between the older warriors ranged between cautious and openly disapproving. Ragnar's death had left the Danes completely rudderless, crushing their fighting spirit. And the pathetic pissing contest between Heasten, and Bloodhair only made things only worse.

“And what about you?” Skade continued, her scrutinising gaze not letting go of him. 

“What about me?” Sihtric tried to pretend clueless.

“Do you want to hump me or kill me?” 

Under the weight of all eyes awaiting his answer, the gentle roar of the fire seemed deafening to Sihtric's ears.

The flickering patterns of light and shadow danced over Skade’s face, making her look like some creature from an old legend. A small burst of sparks erupted from the fresh log as it slowly became engulfed in the blaze, dancing around her like small fading stars. 

She is like the fire itself, Sihtric thought, beautiful yet dangerous. Just as the flames could bring warmth and life or rage with destructive force, so too did she radiate a bewitching power that could either ignite a man's deepest passions or reduce him to ashes.

"Would you believe me if I said neither?" Sihtric raised his gaze from the flames to meet hers.

A mocking laugh escaped Skade's lips as disbelief gave way to a strange mix of surprise and puzzlement, her eyes locked with his unwavering stare. 

The young warrior was a mystery for her. Men were usually so transparent, easy to read and manipulate, but not him. What had she missed? And why was he here? That warm light dancing in his mismatched eyes whenever she caught his hidden glances - what did it mean? Time would tell. Few emotions drove men in this life, and sooner or later, the pretty boy would show his teeth and bare his true, ugly soul. Of that, she was certain, but her interest was piqued nonetheless.

The rhythmic sound of whetstone gliding over metal was always soothing to Sihtric, helping him gather his thoughts. So engrossed was he in the process that he almost didn't notice the tent flaps flutter open, only raising his head when a shadow obscured the candlelight.

"What the hell..." Sihtric jumped to his feet, sword pointing at the intruder who had snuck up on him, only to be met by the grinning stare of two incredibly blue, deep eyes.

"I came to see if you spoke true today by the fire," Skade's voice was barely above a whisper as she stepped closer, tilting her head back to let the blade graze her exposed skin. Sihtric remained motionless, muscles taut, his eyes tracing her every movement.

"Go on then, do it," she mocked, challenge dancing in the depths of her gaze. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to bed me?" With the tip of her finger, Skade slowly pushed the sword aside and began circling him like a predator stalking prey. "You crave me, I can see it. What are you waiting for? Claim me, if you dare."

Hips swinging, with deliberate slowness she placed one foot before the other as she drew nearer, teasingly biting on her index finger. The sweet fragrance of rose oil hit Sihtric’s nostrils, his breath hitching involuntary as his grip on the sword’s hilt loosened. Lowering the blade, he let it slip from his grasp to poke the ground.

"What do you want from me?" Sihtric’s voice came out all dry and gravelly.

“Tell me, what is it you desire?”  Skade purred, trailing her fingers up his chest to toy with the neckline of his armour. “Power? Wealth? Reputation? Do you wish to be the King of all Danes? Are you strong enough to own me?” her thumb brushed his lips as she looked up at him through the thickness of her lashes. 

“There is nothing I cannot give you, but you must choose your path now,” the strange gleam in Skade’s eyes was hypnotic, her voice a lullabying sough, washing against Sihtric’s heightened senses. For a second he forgot about everything – his mission, his lord, his oath, his friends – it all faded away, leaving just the two of them trapped in whatever spell she was weaving.

Was it the gentle whisper of the evening breeze against his skin, slipping through the half-closed tent flaps and extinguishing the flickering candles? Or was it that strange inner voice that had saved his life on the battlefield countless times, warning him of impending danger?  Sihtric couldn’t tell for certain, but a profound sense of presence enveloped him, an ineffable and tender force that broke through the veil of magic surrounding them and made him see her again  – that scared little girl who had looked at him from behind those guarded eyes on that first night in the dungeon when he brought her a blanket and a steaming bowl of stew. 

It had been just a fleeting glimpse, but he knew she was there, buried beneath layers of hatred and spite. This was the Skade he longed to pull closer, to embrace, to shield from the demons that haunted her. This was the Skade he reached out for as eyes radiating warmth he leaned in closer, and with a deep, rumbling sigh pressed his lips to hers. 

The kiss was achingly tender, his lips brushing against hers with the delicacy of a butterfly's wings. Sihtric's calloused fingers cradled her face with a featherlight touch, as if she were a fragile flower that might wither under firmer pressure. His mouth moved against hers in a slow, reverent dance, savouring every sensation without demanding or taking. It was a kiss born of pure affection, free of any desire to claim or possess.

Gradually, the kiss deepened, but the tenderness remained. Sihtric's tongue teased along the seam of Skade's lips, seeking entry, and when she parted them with a soft whimper, he tasted her fully – a sweet, intoxicating blend of innocence and longing. His kiss was worshipful, reverent, treating her like the most precious and delicate of treasures. It was the sweetest and breathtaking kiss that had ever touched Skade's lips, leaving her quenched and thirsting for more all at once.

A soft moan escaped her lips as Sihtric pulled away, his palm resting on her neck, and he tugged her back until their foreheads touched. "I don't want to possess you or demand anything from you," Sihtric murmured, slowly withdrawing himself from her space. "I'm not playing those games of yours. I simply want to know you, the real you." His tone was soft but resolute.

Skade tilted her head to the side, her large, inquisitive eyes scrutinising Sihtric's face, searching for deception, a trap, the real reason behind his withdrawal. The longer his gaze remained steady, locked with hers, the more she felt anger coil in the pit of her stomach. How dare he think he could understand her? How dare he reject her under the pretence of caring?  

A wry, mocking laugh tore from Skade's throat as her beautiful face contorted with fury, anger replacing the lingering warmth that had blossomed within her from Sihtric's kiss. He kept his distance, unmoving, and the icy rage of a spurned woman flooded her veins.

"You have chosen your path, Sihtric Kjartansson," the words left her mouth like arrows unleashed from a taut bowstring, meant to pierce and maim. "And you have chosen doom. You are cursed from this moment on, just as your former lord is cursed. Your life belongs to me now." Her voice grew louder, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, as she fought back tears—a crack in her defences she could not afford to reveal to anyone.

Sihtric's kiss had awakened something she thought long dead and buried—her hopes, her dreams of another life. A life where love's tender caresses might have a place. A life she had convinced herself she no longer wanted nor needed.

"What have I done to deserve your wrath?" Sihtric's simple question just intensified the fury burning within her.

"It's not about what you've done," Skade spat venomously, her voice quivering with shame and embarrassment. She couldn't admit, even to herself, the depth of the scars Sihtric's gentle kiss had reopened, scorching her soul and ravaging her heart. "It's about what you inevitably would do, what men always do. Traitors, cowards, cravens—you are either too weak to accept me or you use me for your purposes, only to discard me once the tide turns. No one has ever cared for me. Don’t pretend you do."

With those last, searing words, she whirled around and stormed out of the tent, fleeing Sihtric’s unblinking gaze.

Skade could barely recall how she stumbled back to her tent. Her vision blurred with tears she could no longer suppress, Skade collapsed to her knees, a soul-wrenching cry ripping through her. Her trembling fingers brushed against her lips, desperately trying to summon the memory of Sihtric's kiss—the tender touch of his mouth on hers, his uneven breath mingling with her own, the slight tremor in his fingers as they caressed her cheek, betraying his own nervousness. That feather-light, gentle touch had burned her to the very core, shattering the unyielding walls she had built around her heart, leaving her defenceless and raw.

Skade's chest heaved with sobs. She had convinced herself that she needed no one, that she was untouchable. Yet, here she was, brought to her knees by the simple, honest touch of a man who had dared to reach out to her. The gentle caress that had felt like a promise of something more now felt like a cruel reminder of what she could never have.

As the tears streamed down her face, she realised that the walls she had built were not just a defence against the world, but a prison that had kept her from feeling anything real. And now, with those walls in ruins, she was left to face the raw, aching truth of her loneliness and desire.

The clash of steel and the savage, earsplitting roars of the combatants filled the air, drawing an ever-growing crowd of spectators to the makeshift square at the camp's centre. The Norns, those inexorable weavers of fate, seemed to favour Bloodhair. With a deft manoeuvre, he disarmed Haesten, and the thunderous crash of Bloodhair's war axe against Haesten's splintering shield reverberated through the assembled throng.

At that very moment, as Bloodhair raised his axe to deliver the deathblow, the scales of destiny tipped with cruel inevitability. Sihtric's eyes locked onto the fearful, bewildered expression contorting Bloodhair's face. The mighty warrior's body seemed to betray him, refusing to obey his commands. Following Bloodhair's stricken gaze, Sihtric's eyes fell upon Skade.

With a beastly roar, Bloodhair swung his axe again, but realisation struck him like a dagger to the heart—the battle was inexplicably, irrevocably lost. He could do nothing but attempt to drag the source of his downfall into death with him. But Skade was faster.

Her knives shimmered in the air, winking maliciously before burying themselves in Bloodhair's flesh. Blood splattered Skade's hands in crimson droplets as she watched the warlord's body crumple to the ground and a satisfied smile curled her lips.

It was late when Sihtric finally returned to camp, having used the ensuing chaos to slip away unnoticed. He paused outside his tent, listening to the sounds of the encroaching night. It was quiet, even too quiet, the usual raucous laughter and drunken banter around the fire pits conspicuously absent. Bloodhair’s death so soon after Ragnar’s had hit the Danes hard again.

"They all want me dead," a voice greeted Sihtric from the corner of his tent, and even if he shuddered innerly, he didn’t dare to show it.

"I'm not surprised," he responded, slowly removing his heavy fur cloak and draping it over a bench. Turning, he faced Skade, sitting on the layer of furs that served as his bed, arms wrapped around her legs with knees pulled up and chin resting on them.

Sihtric lit a few candles, and their flickering light danced over Skade's face. He carefully approached her, stopping just before her small, crouched form on the ground, his well-built frame towering over her. Skade looked up at Sihtric, but quickly averted her gaze. Or did it merely appear that way? Had something truly changed in the way she regarded him?

Sihtric slowly crouched down before her. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Defiance suddenly tainted Skade's voice.

"Why did you kill Bloodhair?"

"He wanted to kill me. Everybody saw that, he swung his axe at me." Sihtric could sense her body tensing again, the protective veil of anger and resentment clouding her beautiful blue eyes.

"I'm not judging you. I just want to know. You poisoned him, didn't you?" Sihtric was certain of his guess. There was no other rational explanation for what he had witnessed.

Slowly, he extended his hand, carefully brushing a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. Skade flinched at his touch, her breathing quickening, but she didn't attempt to avoid it as her gaze fell and fixated on the uneven ground before her feet.

"He deserved that," she finally spoke, her voice hoarse and lacking its usual mocking hardness.

Sihtric waited, keeping his eyes on Skade. The remarkable change in her demeanour both puzzled and filled him with hope. He didn't want to push her, but he couldn't shake the strange feeling that this was precisely what she had come for – to tell her side of the story.

Lowering himself to the ground, levelling with her, he began as the silence stretched, "You know I've never left Uhtred's service." He knew she didn't truly trust him, so offering her leverage might help. "You're too smart to believe that fairy tale of mine. Uhtred is here. He's come to claim you back, just as he promised."

Skade raised her head, eyes locking with Sihtric's for a fleeting moment before turning back to the ground, her gaze strangely empty.

"Winter was closing in," she said, her voice trembling as she tightened her arms around her knees, as if trying to hold herself together. "The harvest yielded little due to the unrelenting drought. Then the priests arrived with soldiers, taking half our meagre stores as tithes to the church and king. Father protested that as Danes we owed no dues to the church, but they would not listen. What remained could never nourish five hungry mouths."

Skade fell silent, but Sihtric patiently awaited her words.

"The slaver must have paid a hefty sum. At first, I didn't understand mom's reddened, tear-filled eyes when she pressed a small bundle of bread and cheese into my hands. It was my own father who took my hand and led me to that man, telling me to be a good girl and obey him. Only when father's hand opened to accept a weighty purse of silver did I grasp that this journey would never take me home again."

Sihtric rose to his knees and slowly crawled nearer until he settled on the furs beside Skade. He ached to enfold her in his arms, to draw her close, but hesitated, not knowing whether his solace was welcome.

"Can you...hold me?" Skade's whisper was barely audible, her gaze still fixed on the ground before her feet.

Cautiously, Sihtric slid his arms around her shoulders, pulling her slightly trembling form against him. To his surprise, she leaned into his embrace, resting her head against his chest as her eyes slipped closed.

"Is this alright?" he murmured, lips grazing her hair.

"Yes," she breathed out, the word a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

There was something so calming, so innocent and pure in the way he held her. His embrace, firm and unwavering,  grounded her, his heartbeat beneath her ear setting a new steady pace for her own racing heart. The warmth of his body gradually seeped into her chilled skin as the taut tension in her muscles yielded to a soothing lassitude.

"The next stop was a Danish settlement, where Bloodhair noticed me...and I was sold again." Skade's voice drifted away to a near-whisper. "It was there that I learned to curse each new dawn I awoke, not yet granted death's release. Half a year later, my first vision came," she continued. "I saw his brother and right hand crushed beneath a falling tree, so vividly, as if I were there. I told Bloodhair, but he only laughed. Three days later, a huge storm ambushed the scouting troop in the woods, and it transpired exactly as I had seen. I went to sleep as a pleasure slave and woke up as a seer."

Sihtric tightened his embrace, pulling her deeper into the protective circle of his arms. His calloused fingers began gently carding through her hair, stroking the unruly strands into soft waves.

With each soothing caress, he could feel the rigid tension slowly ebbing from her slight frame. Her breathing deepened and steadied against his chest and Skade melted further into his solid warmth.

Sihtric continued the tender ministrations, he mapped the contours of her face with feather-light trails of his fingertips - the delicate sweep of her brow, the curve of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. Reverently, he smoothed away the worry lines etched around her eyes and mouth, as if he could wipe away the years of suffering with loving strokes.

"I'm scared, Sihtric," she said softly, her voice catching. "I have fulfilled my oath, I have revenged myself. The only purpose that kept driving me, that kept me alive, is gone."

Sihtric was silent for a long moment, holding her close as he gathered his thoughts. "There is so much more to this life than revenge," he murmured finally. "If only you would let me, I could show you. If only you could believe me, if only for a little while."

His motions slowed but did not cease, a silent promise to stay at her side for as long as she would allow. Sihtric planted a tender kiss to the crown of her head, then simply held her, letting the profound silence envelop them.

The solitary tree at the far end of the camp greeted them with outstretched branches like giant arms casting eerie shadows across the moonlit ground. Skade's gaze found him from afar - Uhtred, his broad frame leaning against the ancient trunk, waiting for her arrival.

She released Sihtric's hand, her steps measured and unhurried as ever. Yet she could not resist a backward glance, seeking reassurance in the tender warmth of his eyes. Something had indelibly shifted; her heart stuttered wildly in her breast, a hummingbird trapped behind bone.

Uhtred stepped towards her, one arm extending in mute invitation to draw her into his embrace. "I'm ready," he murmured, a wan smile ghosting across his lips though it failed to reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry..." Skade's voice emerged softened, lacking its usual steely edge. "But I'm not."

Bewilderment creased Uhtred's brow as his arm dropped limply to his side. "What do you mean?"

Meeting his stare unflinchingly, Skade replied with a melancholic smile, "You were never cursed, Uhtred of Bebbanburg. I wanted you to believe it, and like most men, you were easy to deceive." She shook her head slowly. "This is your life, shaped by your choices alone. You must learn to shoulder the weight of that responsibility, and it is no light load. It is always easier to blame others - a curse or the whims of gods."

Uhtred's face slowly contorted in rage. "You lied to me all this time?" he snarled, grabbing Skade's arm in a forceful grip and pulling her closer.

Sihtric watched the scene unfold with rising concern, jealousy coiling like a venomous snake around his pounding heart, sinking its fangs into vulnerable flesh. Had her vulnerability meant nothing? Was it merely a fleeting moment to be forgotten and cast aside at the first glimpse of a new prospect? 

Uhtred did not love her; he despised her, feared her - of that, Sihtric was certain. And yet there she stood, smiling up at the man, allowing herself to be drawn into his embrace. Sihtric's jaw clenched as he wrenched his gaze away, struggling to maintain an impassive front. 

"I merely told you what you wanted to hear, Lord," Skade said evenly, resolutely freeing her arm from Uhtred's grasp. "I'm sorry, but I have found a greater man to follow. Someone who does not fear who I am, someone who truly cares for me."

"Who? Haesten?" Uhtred's jaw went slack with disbelief that the woman he had risked everything to retrieve could choose someone as despicable over him.

"Sihtric, Lord," Skade corrected with a soft smile. She took a resolute step back, then another before turning to where Sihtric stood, chewing his lips bloody. His eyes widened as she approached, pausing before him to extend her arm. He could not help but reach out hastily, grasping her outstretched hand in his calloused palms and drawing her nearer.

"Show me," she said softly, averting her gaze in insecurity. "Please, show me that other life. Life beyond revenge and hurt."

Slowly, he reached up to tilt her chin towards him, thumb hovering over her lips as if struggling to believe the words that had left them.

"He is here! Uhtred is here!" A shout pierced the night's silence, and Sihtric's grip tightened around Skade's hand.

"Sihtric!" Uhtred's stern voice gave him pause.

"Lord, she is with me," Sihtric stated firmly, meeting his lord's gaze without a hint of hesitation as his hand cradled Skade's like the most precious treasure and in the next moment, they were propelled into frantic motion, running towards the boats.

The first rays of the rising sun streamed through the window, casting the small room in a tender glow of orange and blue. The bed's gentle creak elicited a soft giggle from Skade, the only sound breaking the serene silence that enveloped them.

Her head nestled on Sihtric’s bare chest, she listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Her fingers traced lazy circles over his abdomen, while his rough hand drew slow, deliberate patterns on her back, sending delightful shivers through her. Even if a horde of Danes were to storm into the room this very moment, she wouldn't notice; every fibre of her being was absorbed in the profound sense of peace.

Their forms pressed together, skin against skin, she welcomed the warmth of Sihtric’s body, letting it seep into her bones and dissolve any lingering chill.

“Am I still cursed?” Sihtric asked with a playful chuckle, his hand never pausing in its gentle caress of her back.

“You know you never were,” Skade replied, her voice dreamy and soft.

“But what if I don’t mind?” he teased. “What if I want my life to belong to you?” His tone grew serious, and Skade raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes, one blue and one brown, held a warmth that had captivated her from the moment they first met.

Slowly, she draped her leg over his waist, encircling him with her thighs as she shifted to prop her head on her elbow. Sihtric reached for her other hand, bringing it to his lips to place tender kisses on her palm. The combination of his soft kisses and the gentle strokes of his fingers against her back filled her with a lightness that seemed to lift her soul.

The gentle sunlight grew warmer, and the room seemed to breathe with the slow rhythm of their embrace. Skade sighed contentedly, letting her head fall back onto Sihtric’s chest. 

“You make me forget there’s a world beyond these walls,” Sihtric murmured, his voice a soothing rumble that vibrated through his chest. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Maybe that’s because, right now, there is no world beyond these walls,” she whispered back, her eyes half-closed, basking in the feeling of his hand on her skin.

Skade leaned in, letting her tongue savour the salty tang of Sihtric’s skin. She grazed his waistline with soft, teasing kisses, her lips and teeth exploring the terrain of his body. She moved upward, her warm breath fanning over his skin as she kissed her way to his chest. The hot sensation of her firm tongue circling his nipple, followed by a gentle nibble, drew a sharp hiss from Sihtric. His fingers involuntarily dug deeper into her soft flesh, a mix of pleasure and need rippling through him.

Sihtric’s hands glided down her spine, over the curve of her buttocks, and along her upper thighs, their hold tightening as he pulled her on top of him, legs on each side of his body to straddle his lap. A soft yet needy moan escaped Skade’s lips, feeling his hardening cock pressing against her core.

Her fingers trailed up his chest with a delicate touch until her hands rested on his broad shoulders. She leaned in closer and ran her fingers through his hair, her touch as light as a whisper. 

Sihtric’s calloused fingertips grazed the skin of her arms, further up over her shoulders until his hand rested on her neck. He pulled her closer and his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss. This wasn't the achingly tender caress from before that had melted her resistance and crumbled her walls of protection. This kiss was hungry, passionate, a clash of wills and wants. Sihtric's tongue delved past her parted lips, tasting her, claiming her. His large hands slid into her hair, angling her head as he deepened the kiss with a low groan rumbling from his chest.

Skade melted against him, her nails digging into his shoulders as if he were the only thing anchoring her. She met his passion with her own, teeth nipping at his lower lip, her tongue dancing with his in a heady duel, fanning the heat kindling in the pit of her belly to a searing flame. Wetness pooled between her legs, as her hardened nipples brushed against Sihtric’s chest.

Hesitantly, unwillingly their lips let go of each other, chests heaving, and she buried her face in the curve of Sihtric’s neck, teeth scraping his skin, nipping and sucking marks on his sensitive flesh, sending a delightful shiver through Sihtric’s body.

Sihtric let his hands wander down her spine, teasing sensual strokes tickling her skin before he gripped her hips and urged her down against his crotch. Low groan rumbled through him at the feeling of Skade’s hot and dripping core sliding over his length, covering it with her slick.

Skade’s slender fingers traced the lines of his face with her fingertips, memorising every curve, every angle. "I was so lost before I met you," she breathed, rolling her hips against his, a breathy moan leaving her lips as Sihtric’s cock brushed against her perl. "Wandering through life like a ghost, haunted by my past. But you... you brought me back to life."

Sihtric looked at her, a gleam in his mismatched eyes, his hands cupping her breasts, eliciting another moan from Skade as his lips wrapped around her nipple, suckling on it gently at first. She moaned loudly and, feeling her body responding, he sucked harder, breathing in the floral aroma of her skin mingled with the salty scent of sweat. 

Sihtric’s lips were warm and inviting, the pink of his tongue gliding teasingly over her nipples as he tasted her. Skade’s hips started to move faster, needy moans and hisses rolling over her lips. 

She trembled, feeling arousal and pleasure building up in her with each lap of Sihtric’s tongue, each move of her hips, brushing her sensitive bundle against Sihtric’s fully hard and weeping cock, coating it with her wetness.

Sihtric moaned in pleasure, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He was burning with desire, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel as if she didn’t have the choice but to give herself to him. He wanted it to be trully her decision. 

Skade felt her core starting to throb with a greedy need to feel him inside her. The way he surrendered himself to her touch, giving her the choice, letting her determine what will happen next, made her want him, desire clouding her mind, yet she hesitated, a strange fear lingering in the back of her mind, a remnant from her past.  

"I'm choosing you. All of you – the pain, the rage, the softness, the yearning. I want to know every part of you, if you'll let me," Sihtric’s voice was raw, thick with a mix of lust and longing. His eyes fluttered open, locking his gaze with Skade’s. “Will you let me? Will you have me?” he asked, the earnestness in his voice the final weight tipping the scales. 

Skade’s hand travelled down between them, aligning Sihtric’s cock with her cunt. A heavy sigh quivering in her chest she slowly sank down, taking in the whole length of him, savouring every inch of his thick and long cock filling and stretching her. They both moaned heavily as her hips met Sihtric’s, and he was finally fully sheathed within her. 

Sihtric remained still, his hands on her hips and his large, tender eyes studying Skade’s face. 

She felt her walls adjusting to Sihtric’s cock, embracing him and pulsing in arousal as she started to move. Sihtric groaned in pleasure, his hands grabbing tighter her hips. 

Palms pressed against Sihtric’s chest, Skade steadied herself, the grounding feeling of his warm and slightly sweaty skin filling her with a strange feeling of elation. She fastened her  movements, snapping her hips against his pelvis, and soon the air was filled with heavy whines and moans, rolling over their parted lips. 

Sihtric’s hands landed on her buttocks, holding them in a firm grip, as he started to thrust his hips up against her, his movements growing faster and deeper with each thrust as her back arched and her nails dug in Sihtric’s flesh, leaving marks in their wake. 

Skade didn’t expect her climax to build up so quickly, but there was no escape from the pleasure building up within her with increasing speed, her walls spasming and clenching stronger and stronger with each thrust, delight infiltrating every cell of her body. 

“Oh, Sihtric, I’m so close …” she whined, supporting herself by grabbing the edge of the headboard, her knuckles turning white from the restraint.

“Don’t fight against it, let it go. I got you,” Sihtric whispered.

“Oh gods,” a loud moan ripped through her trembling body as Sihtric licked his fingers and reached between them, placing his thumb at her sensitive perl and starting to move around it, putting just the right pressure to make her breath catch in her chest.

For the first time in her life, Skade felt ready and willing to let go, to surrender control and entrust herself to Sihtric’s gentle yet passionate touch. His hot, heavy breath teased her skin, leaving her trembling and aching with desire—craving more—more of his kisses, more of his heated touch, more of everything he had to give. 

Breath panting, she whined, as her eyes started to roll back in her head. 

“Good girl!” Sihtric praised her. “Cum for me. Let me show you the stars,” he whispered, watching as Skade rode him, bouncing wildly up and down on his cock, her last remnants of self control being washed away by the raspy sound of his voice.

Tears of raw happiness streamed down her flushed cheeks as she submitted herself to him wholly and completely, with no hesitation, no regret.

Skade came with a loud moan, her walls spasming around Sihtric’s cock and body shaking in waves of pure bliss, her climax sweeping her racing mind empty of all thoughts, all emotions apart from one. Love.

For the first time in her life, she felt truly loved, and it was beautiful. It was indescribable, like taking her first breath after a lifetime of suffocating.

Sihtric felt Skade’s walls spasming around him as he kept fucking her though her orgasm and after a few more thrusts he followed her, his groans filling the air as he spilled deep inside her, imprinting himself on her walls. 

Skade crushed against his chest, and Sihtric’s hands wrapped around her quivering body, pulling her tightly in his embrace as they both gasped for breath.

"I want to stay like this forever," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sihtric smiled, a mixture of mischief and sincerity in his expression. "Forever is a long time," he said, his fingers trailing down her spine, sending a delightful shiver through her body. "But I would gladly spend every moment of it with you."

“Then your life is mine, future Lord of Dunholm, but your path is your own.”

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[rhaenyrathecruell]

MOMMY SORRY MOMMY SORRY

[witchezandwonderz]

The Silent Watcher

Request: Can you please do a Sihtric x reader where he is somewhere spying for Uhtred and sees a girl who he is really impressed by or something, thanks

Pairing: Sihtric x Reader

Word Count: 1366

A/N: requests are open, let me know what you want me to write 🖤

The night was still, a deep, unnerving silence settling over the land, making each creak, crack, and whisper seem deafening. Sihtric kept to the shadows, his eyes scanning the trees and the occasional flicker of torchlight beyond. Uhtred had sent him to spy on Bloodhair—a task Sihtric typically undertook with his loyal friend, Finan. However, due to Bloodhair’s recent alliance with the seer Skade, Sihtric had been dispatched alone, in the hope that he might remain undetected.

Since arriving in the small settlement, Sihtric’s mood had been grim. He’d warned Uhtred that this mission endangered his life, but Uhtred had not been himself since the tragic loss of his love, Gisela. Moreover, Sihtric understood the danger of being in a powerful seer’s presence while attempting to remain concealed. He found himself spending more time strategizing escape routes than gathering the intelligence he’d been sent to acquire.

A nearby sound snapped him from his thoughts. He turned his head toward the noise, gripping the hilt of his sword. A rustling within the trees prompted him to retreat deeper into the shadows. His eyes fixed on the source of the movement, his muscles tensed as he waited.

A woman emerged.

Sihtric’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why would a woman be wandering through the woods at such an hour? He observed her closely. She wore an emerald green dress, her hair woven into an intricate braid. Even in the dim light, her beauty was undeniable. His curiosity piqued as she drew a small knife, pounced on a small creature, and hummed contentedly as she tucked her prize away. So she was hunting—but his interest lingered. Who was she?

The following morning, Sihtric continued his reconnaissance, keeping a low profile after his third night without sleep. Today, he was determined to gather the information he needed before his sanity wore thin. Weaving through the settlement’s clusters of Danes, he navigated around groups of people laughing and trading banter as they went about their tasks. The noise grew louder as he approached a large gathering. Curious, he found a spot with a clear view of the commotion, and his eyes landed on her once more.

There she was, only this time she wore more practical attire—a simple top and trousers. Her face was lit with a brilliant smile as she faced another woman clad in protective armour, her expression far from friendly.

“You insult me, Y/N!” the armoured woman roared.

The woman—now identified as Y/N—laughed, her voice filled with mirth. “You exaggerate, Dagmar! As always!”

A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd, and even Sihtric felt a smile tugging at his lips. Dagmar’s response was a feral growl as she lunged forward, attempting to swipe at Y/N with her sword. But Y/N dodged effortlessly, slipping behind Dagmar and landing a swift kick to the back of her knees, causing her to stumble. Y/N stepped back, meeting her gaze with confidence and demanding, “Yield.”

The two women squared off, engaging in a rapid exchange of blows. The onlookers cheered as Y/N parried Dagmar’s strikes with graceful, controlled movements. But when Dagmar spotted an opening in Y/N’s stance, she swiftly swept her leg out, sending Y/N sprawling to the ground.

Yet Y/N surprised them all by springing up, gripping Dagmar, and flipping her over. With a swift motion, Y/N pressed her sword to Dagmar’s throat. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Sihtric felt an undeniable surge of admiration for her skill.

“You fight carelessly, like a child,” Y/N remarked coldly, her sword still hovering at Dagmar’s throat. Defeated, Dagmar dropped her weapon, prompting Y/N to lower her own sword—though she still held it in a firm grip. As Y/N walked away, Sihtric’s eyes followed her, his intrigue deepening.

He lingered, debating whether he should continue his surveillance of Bloodhair’s camp or pursue her. The decision felt absurdly easy: he would follow her.

Quickly, he wove his way through the crowd and caught sight of her retreating figure. She soon stopped at a small tent, disappearing inside. As he waited, Sihtric found himself reflecting on the impression she’d made on him. He couldn’t remember ever being so captivated by a woman, yet he felt frustrated that she was a Dane and, presumably, loyal to Bloodhair.

Before long, she emerged from her tent, now dressed in a thicker, warmer outfit. With the daylight revealing her features more clearly, he found her even more stunning than he had first thought. Curiously, she didn’t quite look like a Dane, which struck him as peculiar. Sihtric had developed a knack for discerning the subtle characteristics and mannerisms that distinguished different cultures.

Just then, a tall man approached her, saying something Sihtric couldn’t hear. But her reaction—a look of disgust as she retreated a step—was unmistakable. “I could kill you for such an insolent remark,” she spat, causing the man to shrug and walk away.

Sihtric’s curiosity sharpened. He resumed following her, but when he glanced down briefly to check his footing, she vanished. Alarmed, he scanned the surroundings, his heart pounding. Before he could react, he felt a swift movement behind him, and suddenly, she was straddling him on the ground, her knife pressed to his neck. Her gaze was intense.

“Why have you been following me for two days?” she asked, her voice calm but deadly.

Caught off guard, he managed a slight smile. “Is it so wrong to be drawn to a remarkable woman?”

She didn’t smile, only replied dryly, “Yes, it is.”

He shifted, managing to reverse their positions so that he now held his knife to her throat. “You’re quite the skilled fighter,” he murmured, grinning. “I watched you spar earlier.”

To his surprise, she smirked up at him. “Clearly not skilled enough,” she retorted, glancing pointedly at her predicament. Reluctantly, he let her up, and she dusted off her knees, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Do I need to worry about my life?” she asked, her tone icy. He shook his head, signalling no threat.

Satisfied, she nodded. “Normally, I’d kill a man for tailing me, but…you’re attractive. Consider it a mercy.”

Amused by her boldness, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is that so?”

They walked in silence for a time until she spoke up. “You’re not a Saxon, but you’re certainly no Dane.”

Sihtric felt a flicker of alarm but concealed it. “I could say the same of you, Y/N.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I watched your fight.”

“I am a Dane.”

He smirked. “No, you’re not.”

They halted, staring each other down.

“How are you so sure?” she challenged, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s instinct.” Y/N let out a scoff, laughing lightly. “Instinct? Are you a seer now?” She turned, seemingly unbothered, though he sensed her guardedness.

As they neared a secluded river, Sihtric pressed on. “I’d wager you’re here for the same reason I am. A spy. Now, tell me—who do you work for?”

She scoffed, incredulous. “You presume much for someone whose name I do not know.”

“Sihtric,” he replied, extending his hand. She ignored it, squeezing between two trees as they arrived at the river.

“I work for Uhtred of Bebbanburg,” he revealed. She froze, turning to face him.

“Of Bebbanburg?” she echoed, a hint of relief in her voice.

He nodded. “The same.”

After a long pause, she replied, “I work for King Alfred.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “So we’re on the same side.”

She sighed, visibly relieved. “I’ve been here alone for a month, lying my way into Bloodhair’s trust. Tonight, I’d planned to leave.”

Sihtric reached for her hand, his voice soft. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

She planted her lips on his. The kiss started softly, almost tentative, but quickly deepened as they gave in to the pull that had been simmering between throughout the day. His other arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them.

Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric as she lost herself in the moment, letting the warmth of his touch and the pressure of his lips fill her senses. The world around them faded, leaving only the warmth of his body, the taste of his kiss, and the racing of her own heart. 

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, he took her hand, standing. “Come. We’ll report to Uhtred and Alfred. And then, I’ll return to tell Uhtred I’ve met the woman I wish to marry.

[knight-of-flowerss]

MEMENTO MORI

'REMEMBER YOU WILL DIE'

Sub!Jacaerys Velaryon x Witch!Reader

Smut! MDNI! 18+!

It’s finally here ya'll!!

Synopsis: Your relationship with the crown is wearing thin. You once lived in peace, being left alone by everyone, but the more King Viserys grows weak, the more hate is coming your way. You are stationed, imprisoned in the Red Keep until your execution but a certain Prince's curiosity leads him to you.

Masterlist

Reader is not described in anyway other than being afab but in my head I'm thinking Skade from TLK would suit this fic. Also Jace will look like season 2 Jace but it kinda takes place in season 1 (idk man)

being a witch was difficult. Here i am standing trial in the throne room, everyone's eyes upon me. lord otto hightower took it upon himself to take the kings place while he is bed ridden.

i have shackles around my wrists, ankles and neck, held by three different knights.

"how do you plead to the crimes of witchcraft?" otto's voice bounces off the walls in a booming manner.

"it depends lord. what type of witchcraft do you mean?" i say with a cold face, if i ever let any emotions crack through they would eat me up then and there.

otto is clearly irritated by my response, "witchcraft against the crown." , "not guilty. i have lived peacefully, detached from society.. my relationship with the crown has been as pure as a virgin.. does the king know you are doing this?…"

"the king is sick so i assume the position as hand to handle the court." he snaps back, cocky and superior. his daughter, alicent, glares at me. She was a daughter of the seven so she had a right to be wary of me..

"then as hand you should know that there is a legally binding scroll saying that we are to live in harmony until the day i die. you cannot execute me. If you do, it would be you who is on trial for crimes against the crown." i reply, cocking my head slightly as i stare into his eyes.

otto basically had steam coming out of his ears, absolutely seething, "you shall be kept in the red keep. it will be up to the people if we execute you."

the guards yanked the chains that hold me, violently dragging me to the red keep. as i turn to walk, i make eye contact with a certain bastard.

i pace around the empty room, my shackles had been taken off and i had been allowed free roam in the small room.

i look out the barred window and watch people point and look up, whispering and giggling. they were going to choose to execute me, i am sure of it.

my head turns slightly to the door as the doorknob jiggles, it slowly creaks opens as the candles flicker and obscure the visitor.

a young princeling peeks his head through slowly. scared and hesitant. "speak boy."

i glare at him as he takes in a sharp breath, just staring at me. i bite the inside of my lip in anger before shouting, scaring the poor boy, "speak!"

he jumps slightly, "are-.. are you a witch?.." he mutters quickly, looking at me before darting his eyes down to the floor.

"i have done no crimes to be seen as witchcraft. i help the ill. herbs and spices. that is all… and I also have dreams." i say as i tilt my head, leaning my head forward and bending my body down, trying to scare him.

he eyes me weirdly, scared of what i could do, "you lie, i have heard what they say about you. you dream yes, but you also practice witchcraft."

"believe it if you want, i do not care." i slowly walk towards him, swaying my hips as my eyes are tracked on him. "are you scared of me, boy?.."

he stares at me, puffing his chest out, trying to stand his ground. "no. why would i ever be scared of you? you are no threat now."

i smirk at him, my teeth peeking through my lips, "i can be.. if i really want to be.." i take a fast step forward, shocking him. he jumps back slightly and puts his hand on a presumed, sheathed dagger.

"you are scared of me.. aww, it's a pity. i was hoping you wouldn’t be." my lips pout in a mocking way, i'm a few steps from the prince.

"who are you? i know you are a princeling, you carry yourself like one." i eyes him up and down. "i am jacaerys velaryon, son of laenor velaryon and princess rhaenyra targaryen, soon to be queen. i am rider of vermax and the next in line to the throne after my mother."

"ah.. the heir.. soon you shall be king, i have dreamt it.. a good king too.." i eye him up, my gaze going from his veiny hand that grasps a concealed dagger at his hip, that could curl around my neck, to his curly mop of hair that structures his face, that i could tug on. his nose is large, big enough to ride. his lips are pouty, soft enough to kiss. he is gorgeous.

he shuffles slightly, uncomfortable from my predatory gaze. "you are prettier than any woman.. your babes shall be beautiful." i walk towards him, he backs up. We continue this until he hits the wall and i leer in front of him.

i chuckle maniacally, loving how he is clearly scared of me but is still gripping his dagger like he shall un-sheath it and strike it through my heart.

"my body shivers when you are near.." my breath hits his cheek as his big, brown eyes stare at me, like a little baby deer. "my heart is beating so fast… you, my prince, are making my body betray me.." a grin spreads across my face, staring at every inch of his beautiful face.

he swallows, nervous. his adam's apple bobs as the saliva glides down his throat. "my cunt is soaking with mine own arousal, your grace.." jacaerys' eyes widen, basically bulging out of his skull. he splutter out a few random letters before whimpers softly.

my face is close to his as he whimpers, my eyes close as my mouth moves open to gasp softly before grinning and laughing. gods.. he sounded fucking gorgeous.

"you're the sweetest little thing i've ever seen, prince jacaerys velaryon." the sultry tones he quite literally drips off my tongue as my face grows nearer to his.

my hand move up slowly, as to not attract his attention. i reach up and cup him through his trousers, which makes him visibly still and a sharp inhale be taken in.

"get off me.. witch." he pants out as he tries to pull back but there is no space to escape, "you say that as if it is an insult…" my tongue darts out to lay flat on his cheek as he trembles slightly at the feeling.

"let me please you, my prince.." i grin against his cheek, grounding my hand down against his crotch, feeling him harden beneath my palm. jacaerys is frozen in place, not knowing what to do as he stares at me with widened eyes.

i move my nimble fingers to unlace his trousers, sneaking my hand into his breeches. his breath hitches as he turns his head slightly to look into my eyes, pools of darkness that invite him to sin.

my fingers finally brush against his soft tip as he gasps softly, his eyes fluttering shut. "stop it witch..." he grunts out as i slip my fingers around his sensitive tip, teasing him. "i do not believe you wish me to... lying is frowned upon in high society, is it not?"

jacaerys just grunts in response, it was obvious the young princeling had never felt the touch of a woman before, but he wasn't panicked by the sensation which i could only assume meant that he had indulged in his own pleasures before.

i retract my hand from his breeches, taking away all touch to his spongey tip. he tried to disguise it but i heard a soft whimper come from his lips at the loss of contact. "i think that a witch deserves one last night of pleasure before her death, don't you, jacaerys?" he pouts, yet it is unclear if he pouted at the idea or because his name slid off my tongue in the most sultry way i could, like a siren in the ocean.

when i hear no response, it aggravates me. i reach my hand up to grip at his softly ringlets, yanking them as he yelps, "i said, i think i deserve one last night of pleasure before my execution, do you believe that too?" i growl through gritted teeth next to his ear.

jacaerys hesitated before he nodded pitifully. i grin before i push him down, he seems confused before he follows my lead, kneeling infront of me.

i practically moan at the sight of him on his knees, staring up at me with those big, brown puppy eyes. he is the most gorgeous man alive.

i move my hand from his curls to grip his chin, tilting his head up, "i think we should put this mouth to good use.."

his bottom lip practically trembles in anticipation as he stares back up at me. a sly grin graces my face as my other hand moves to my tattered skirts, gripping them and moving them up.

my smooth skin gets slowly revealed to the young princeling. my calf… then my knee… and then my thigh…

his eyes flicker from my eyes to my thigh, his breathing growing more harsh, his chest moving up and down in a more visible way.

subconsciously, his head gravitates slowly towards my thigh, pressing his cheek to my warm skin. a small whimper comes from his lips as he nuzzles his cheek further into the inside of my thigh.

his chapped lips grazes my skin, tickling me slightly. i move my hand that was on his chin to the side of his face, stroking his cheek softly with my thumb.

his beautiful eyes are hidden from my view as his eyelids flutter shut, his long eyelashes stroking his under eye slightly.

the fingers that are gripping my skirt move to the centre of my skirts, tugging it up to my stomach, revealing my bare cunt to the prince.

when he opens his eyes, his pupils dilate, his big doe eyes returning. the sweet aroma of my slick draws him in, leaning forward and pressing his nose into my cunt, the bump of his rugged nose pressing into my clit.

the hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his neck, my fingers fumbling with his curly baby hairs as i grin down at jacaerys on his knees.

his plush lips kiss my lips softly, my slick sticking to them making him lick his lips.

unsure of what he is doing, he just follows his guts, messily kiss and sucking my sweet slick. at one point, the ridge of his nose moves a certain way into my clit, making a soft moan slip from my lips.

quickly clocking onto it, he moved up, moving his lips to my pearl and experimentally putting his tongue on my throbbing nub.

i bite my lip, a sickening grin adorning my face as i close my eyes.

jacaerys' hands travel to his trousers, gripping his throbbing cock, grinding into his own hand.

he tries to speed up the pace of his tongue, trying to give me pleasure, basking in the taste of the forbidden gardens. he messily and hastily flicks his tongue against my clit, whining into my cunny as he humps his fist faster.

my hips move on their own accord, grinding against his face as i feel my release nearing while his own was festering in his breeches.

his eyes are squeezed shut as a broken whimper breaks through, his cock throbbing as he spills into his breeches.

not giving the fucked out prince a break, i swing my leg over his shoulder, moving my hand to the back of his head.

I quickly move my hips against his face, rocking them so my clit graces his beautiful nose as i teeter on the edge of my release.

doubling-over, the knot in my belly unravels. as my legs shake and moans spill from my lips, jacaerys hurriedly moved his mouth closer, lapping up my release with a satisfied hum.

after a small time, he continues to lap at my cunt. i have to push the eager prince away, he is easily overstimulating me without even releasing it.. so innocent..

jacaerys looks up at me, his eyes glossed over. i gather the spit in my mouth before i tug his head back, causing him to gasp softly and his lips to part.

I hurriedly spit into his mouth, it catches on his bottom lip, dripping down as his instinctively swallows and licks his lips.

my knees bend, moving to sit atop his lap. my knees caged him in, on either side of his thighs. jacaerys himself is still kneeling on the ground, the hard and cold stone floor digging into his kneecaps.

big brown eyes bore into mine as he stares at me with a lovesick gaze. his hands move to the tops of my thighs, barely grazing them, unsure if he should touch me or not.

my patience had ran out, fingers moving in between us and unlacing his trousers and breeches, his swollen cock being released and slapping his leather covered abdomen.

he whimpers at the feeling of his tip grazing the coolness of the leather. precum dribbles down from his tip, his cock twitching from the cold air and anticipation.

my hand hastily grabs his length, moving my hips up to hover over him and sinking down. i had laid with many men during my time, so the usual uncomfortableness for many women is barely present.

but jacaerys had never had the touch of a women, he'd never been inside a cunt before.

having only came a few moment before, jacaerys cries into my shoulder, moving his head to look up at me. his eyes brows are furrowed, lips parted and downturned and the look in his eyes is pitiful.

but i wasn't here to care about the sensitivity of the prince, no… i'm taking the virginity of the future king.. i will haunt him until the day he dies… he will want no other woman other than me.

i quickly move my hips, dragging them up and down his cock slowly, spreading my slick along his length. he whines into the air pathetically, his eyes clenching shut as he bites his lip hard.

his hands move from grazing my thighs to be splayed across my lower back, his short nails digging into my skin.

warm walls clench around his length as he presses his face into my covered breasts, letting every noise spill from his lips and being muffled by the fabric.

my head leans backwards, my hair dangles in the air as i moan and gasp.

my arms rest on his shoulders, my hands gripping his hair, digging into his scalp.

my hips move faster as i feel him throb inside me, his noises growing louder and louder.

biting my lip as i smile, enjoying the feeling of fucking the innocent young prince. who knew the next king would be so submissive for a witch?..

as he grows nearer his release, his hands press me forward, keeping me close to him as his teeth sinks into the fabric covering my chest, biting hard on my breast.

his blunt nails rake up and down my back as i basically hump him. but as the knot in his belly slowly comes undone, he moves his arms up, hooking them under my armpits and his nails dig into my shoulder.

with a pathetic cry he spills inside me, twitching and throbbing as he paints my walls white with his seed.

my eyes roll into the back of my head, clenching around him as my release comes crashing down without a warning, making the overstimulated jacaerys whimper and cry, tears rolling down his freckled cheek.

after a little while of sitting like that, i lift myself off of him, earning a whine off him.

his seed drips out of me and he pants, his head very slowly looking up before quickly moving to the side as my hand quickly strikes his cheek, the sting of the slap covering his whole cheek.

"i will plague your mind as you seek pleasure in other women… i will plague your mind as you fuck your future wife with your seed… i will plague your mind as you make every decision for the seven kingdoms… you will never forget me princeling…" i whisper into his ear.

"memento mori.." i kiss the shell of his ear softly before dissipating away.

the king wakes up in his bed, his wife, Baela, sleeping next to him peacefully, her swollen belly is visible underneath the furs and blankets. the witch was right.. she would always haunt him.

tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @benjinotes @ericasabe

[zaldritzosrose]

Rampion (Sihtric x Rapunzel!Reader)

Summary: Locked in a tower for years, having been coveted for your blessed beauty by the witch Skade. Never knowing the outside world, never knowing where you had come from. The walls of your tower were the only place you knew. Until your stranger, the unexpected hero, saved you and stole you away.

CW: MINORS DNI (it may be fluff, but it's my blog my rules), afab reader, she/her pronouns (referring to Skade), only reader description is of hair long enough to scale the tower, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of imprisonment, Skade being a deplorable human, mentions of thievery (Sihtric, naughty naughty), allusions to smut, mentions of magic and prophecy, references to Norse deities and practices.

Words: 4684

My darling girl, sunshine of my day @thenameswinter99 I am so sorry it took me so long to finish this. But I hope it's everything you wanted it to be. Maybe I'll even treat you to a part two, but I won't make you wait months this time!

The offering your mother made before you were born was supposed to be a blessing. Asking the goddess Freyja to bless you with grace and beauty to one day secure a safe and prosperous match that would benefit the kingdom.

It had done anything but.

You had grown up to be more beautiful than your mother could have ever dreamed. Men from all corners of Dane controlled land came to plead for your hand. Making promise after promise.

But men were not the only ones who coveted you. A witch named Skade, a woman hated and feared in equal measure by your people. She wanted your blessing, the favour the Freyja had showered on you before your birth. She wanted that for herself. In any way she could.

News of your beauty had travelled through clan after clan, some daring to say you were the most beautiful.

Skade could not risk losing you to some Dane earl or the like. Her only option? To take you for herself.

And she did.

You hadn’t seen the outside of the stone tower for as long as you could remember. You knew this hadn’t always been your life, but the memories were hazy. Like looking back at them through fog.

Skade had made you reliant solely on her. Never leaving the confines of the stone around you. The only way you saw the outside was through the large window, high enough to see through the trees and to the expanse of green land and small villages in the distance.

Maybe one of them was your real home? Maybe one of them held people who missed you? Or maybe Skade was right, the world was too dangerous for someone so blessed as you. That you were safer locked away than out and free.

You spent your time on numerous hobbies. Painting, sewing, reading, anything you could turn your hand to. Skade would always return to you with something new for you to do, be it paints, charcoals or books. You were never short of a distraction.

The tower was simple, a single room filled with everything you needed. A soft bed with numerous furs to keep you warm, a gift from Skade. Strewn around the room were the remnants of your hobbies. The most notable, however, was the vanity across from your bed.

Your pride and joy, over all your hobbies and creations, was your hair. The long braid that at times you would hang from the window of the tower. Skade had gained a habit of tugging gently on the end to alert you to her presence. The impressive braid scaled down the entire tower, thick enough to allow Skade to climb it without causing you any pain.

But you were desperate for more.

Anything that wasn’t the walls of stone, Skade’s voice that would at times irritate you. But you had nothing else. Where would you go if you could escape?

Sihtric was content. Life in Coccham was easy. The town thrived enough; Uhtred ruled fairly as its lord. He had always been an adventurer, a traveller. He enjoyed his home in Coccham, but he found it hard to remain in one place for long.

But there was a past time Sihtric kept well secret from even his friends. Since he was a child, he had a penchant for theft. Blending into these surroundings, becoming someone else. And gaining all he coveted as a result; be it jewels or women.

There were times he would disappear for days, even weeks on end. Always returning home, with a tale a numerous ‘gifts’ for his friends. None of them questioned it. They likely knew. They knew him well enough by now. But they also knew he would never stop. It was something ingrained within him. It was who Sihtric was.

Warrior. Dane. Thief.

It had been months since he had left Coccham. Nothing quite interesting enough to draw him away from his creature comforts, from his friends.

Until he heard of some travelling merchants, over the waters from France. Merchants always brought things of interest. Trinkets to steal. Women to seduce at times. He had stolen from French merchants before, their wares always varied and beautiful.

He listened out for word of their movements. When they neared Coccham, he prepared himself to leave. Slipping out as night fell so as not to raise more suspicion than necessary. People always noticed, but no one ever confronted him on it. His bag was packed simply. No more than his smaller weapons, food and changes of clothing.

His horse had been saddled the night before, a clue to his plans to anyone who paid attention. When the town was covered in darkness, he left, not planning to stop until he was at least a day’s ride from the merchant’s camp. It would give him time enough to plan his next move. And of course, to see what was worth stealing.

The ride was quick, which worked in Sihtric’s favour. He made his camp and waited. A day passed and he was more than ready.

And to his luck, the carts soon crossed the horizon. It was normal for merchants to make a night’s camp before entering a city or town, and these were no different. He watched them, counting the carts, counting the chests he knew would be filled with all kinds of treasures and trinkets.

Sihtric waited until dark, it was rare for merchants to guard their wares. Whether it was pride or naivety he did not know. But it always worked to his benefit. Once he could see each of them were asleep, he made his move. Practiced movements allowing him to enter their camp safely.

In his youth, he would have tried to take more than he could carry, risking detection in his greed. Now, he knew where the most precious items would be kept. Usually the chests with the most intricate locks and protection. But he was more than capable of breaking into such things.

Practice made perfect after all.

He was quick to pick the lock, hearing trained both on the sleeping merchants around him and the clicks needed for the lock to open. Slowly, he opened the chest and made quick work of searching for the most valuable of items.

Soon, he was satisfied. Returning the chest to closed and leaving the lock as if it had never been opened. The perfect ruse.

As quiet as he entered, he exited the camp with his finds.

Sihtric made sure to store his new stolen treasures away securely, wrapping anything he could in his spare clothing and hiding them deep in his pack. He was in no rush to return home, finding the solitude more relaxing than he ever had. He chose a longer route back to Coccham, a natural trail that led his through a wide expanse of forest.

He was entirely daydreaming, leading his horse with his eyes trained on the dirt path below him. It was only the sound of distant singing that drew him from his reverie.

His steps fell still, listening intently for the direction the singing came from. It was one of the sweetest voices he had ever heard. Curiosity and apprehension gnawed at his gut, his free hand clutching his hammer pendant while his other gripped his steed’s reigns tight.

It was not long before the singing grew louder, but it did not come from where he expected. A stone tower nestled deep in the forest was entirely unexpected. And it was from within the singing came. His eyes drifted upwards, assuming he was following a thick branch or vine. But when it didn’t rustle or sway in a passing breeze, realised then it was a thick braid of hair.

The tower was a good few feet of the ground, making the braid longer than he had ever seen. And at the end he saw Freyja’s symbol nestled within the cord that held it all together.

“What in the world…?” Sihtric mused to himself, settling himself a fair distance away at the trunk of a tree.

His horse was tied nearby, and he began to simply listen. He recognised some of the songs, tales of the same gods he knew and worshipped. He was entirely enraptured. The voice would drift in and out, filling his ears and mind with nothing but calm.

Darkness soon fell, but he made no effort to leave. Sihtric could do nothing but wonder who was singing, why they were locked away in such a secluded tower. His question was almost answered when he heard a voice he vaguely recognised.

“Sweet girl!” Skade called, tugging at the end of the braid.

Sihtric watched with curiosity as the witch waited for a face to appear in the window. Even from here, he could see that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And he had seen many.

What surprised him more, was when Skade climbed the tower with the help of the braid. He wondered if it hurt, but it seemed something well practiced between you and the witch. He remained watching as Skade disappeared through the window, realising then there was no door to the tower.

Hours passed and he did not see you again. Sleep soon found him, and he slept dreaming of nothing but your voice.

Skade did not leave you that morning, choosing instead to watch as you painted. It was a rare occurrence for her to remain, but you did not balk at the company.

The pair of you sat in silence, Skade mixing some herbs together though you dared not ask what for. You had learned your place with her quickly. There was something both young and old about the witch, she had never once revealed her true age to you. You were not friends; at times you were barely acquaintances.

You knew she wanted something from you, the tower being one of the many ways she kept you close. But you never knew what exactly she wanted you for. It was another question that went unanswered whenever you asked it.

But there was something you would occasionally dare to ask.

“Will you ever take me with you when you leave?” You asked, setting down your brushes and turning to look at Skade.

The look you got in return made your blood run cold.

“Do I not provide everything you need? Why would you wish to leave, you know it is not safe for one such as you!” Skade snapped, the pestle grinding hard against the mortar beneath it.

You jumped a little at the tone, but you were determined.

“Tell me why you keep me here then! What about me needs protecting so much?”

But she didn’t answer. Choosing instead to entirely ignore you. You knew better than to press the issue, returning to your painting in silence.

Your mind wandered while you painted. Trying to think of any possible reason a witch like Skade would have to keep you. She never asked for anything from you, in words anyway. Only that you remained in the tower.

No matter how hard you thought, nothing came to mind.

The sun was what had woken Sihtric. He’d half expected to wake up and realise he’d dreamed the singing, the tower, the witch and the girl with the braid.

But there it was. Clear as day.

Grey stone, covered in leaves and winding vines. The window that you had been singing from empty now. But curiosity still nestled itself in his stomach. Sihtric had time, no one would be expecting him back in Coccham any time soon, none that knew him well anyway.

His treasures were safely hidden, but they weren’t the prizes he was concerned about right now.

You. His mystery in the tower. You were his new prize.

He kept half of his attention on the tower and the other half on the forest around him. Hunting and gathering some supplies to tide him over for a day or so. Enough to keep him going until he caught a glimpse of you again.

Sihtric wasn’t quite sure how many hours had passed. Enough for the air to cool just a touch, for the sun to be lower through the trees.

But not long enough for your reappearance at the window, it seemed.

He returned to his spot, secluded behind a thicket of bushes and rocks. Enough to hide him and his horse. He only had to hope the witch wasn’t the one to pass his hiding place.

There was too much risk in lighting a fire, so he satisfied himself with the berries he had picked and the remnants of the food he had brought with him from Coccham. And the bottle of ale he had swiped from the sleeping merchant.

All he needed to do now, was wait.

The sun was dipping behind the window, not enough light now to paint by. But enough to read. Skade was preparing to leave again, though as usual she never told you why. Not that you wanted to ask.

You were still upset, partly because she refused to ever answer a question. Though something else was eating at you, that you couldn’t place.

What was curious this time, however, was that Skade had more than her small pouch around her hips.

“I will not be back tonight, sweet girl. I must go to the closest village, and it’s more than an evening’s walk away.” Skade said, answering the question that had not yet come from your lips.

You nodded, back to her again as you chose from one of your many piles of books. And silently you walked to the window, slinging your braid over the sill for Skade to climb down.

And then she was gone.

You remained in the window. Though your hair was now looped around your feet, your book resting on your knees. The world around you was a distant thought as you lost yourself in your book.

Until you heard a whistle.

Below you, close by but you couldn’t see anyone. And Skade would never whistle to get your attention.

So, you ignored it, returning to your story and thinking nothing more of it. Maybe it was just a bird or the wind. Until it happened again, louder and closer.

This time, you set down your book and took your time looking around the forest below.

It certainly was not a bird or the wind. There was a man, a Dane based on his clothing, at the foot of your tower. And from the axe on his back, he was a warrior too.

You almost froze in panic. Was this what Skade had warned you about? Was this the danger she had hammered into your mind?

No, if he wanted to hurt you, he would not have whistled for your attention.

Your silence prompted him to whistle again, and then you saw him pointing. Pointing to the tip of your braid that hung over the sill.

Had he seen Skade climb in and out? How long had this stranger been watching you?

Sihtric had taken a chance. He didn’t know why you were hidden away in a tower. But nothing about you seemed dangerous.

So, he took his chance. Whistling until you looked at him. Gesturing for you to let down your braid.

He could only hope you would do so.

You had none of the instincts a normal human would have. You had never known danger, aside from the stories Skade would terrify you with.

But your stranger didn’t look dangerous, ignoring his weapon.

Slowly, you unravelled the braid at your feet. Throwing it down as you would for Skade. A small smile on your lips as the stranger stepped back before it hit him.

And when he began to climb, you winced a little at the weight difference. But he scaled the wall of the tower quick enough, easing the weight by resting his feet on branches and vines.

Soon, he was at the sill. Smoothly dropping himself into the tower and turning to look at you.

“Thank you, lady,” he said with a small smile.

You stood from the window, pulling your braid back in and wrapping it so it didn’t trail across the floor. The few pins stuck in your sleeve were just strong enough to hold it together.

The two of you stared at each other, neither wanting to be the next one to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, you couldn’t hold back your curiosity any longer.

“What is your name?” you asked, wandering over to your bed and sitting down.

Your stranger didn’t move, but your question earned you a smile.

“Sihtric, lady.”

It was your turn to smile.

“I am no lady, Sihtric.”

In truth, you didn’t know much about yourself. Other than what Skade would tell you. Which seemed to be becoming a frustrating occurrence.

Sihtric chuckled softly, running a hand over his face. But you offered him your name before he could speak.

And all Sihtric could think of, was how beautiful a name it was.

Hours passed; the sun had entirely dipped below the horizon in the time Sihtric had spent in your tower. And only then did he remember the witch.

“Is she not due to return? I should…”

He was already making for the window when you grabbed his arm.

“She’s not back for a few days. She’s gone to a nearby village for supplies.” You said quickly, pulling him back just a little.

Sihtric looked back at you. He couldn’t leave you here. Thief or not, at his heart he was a good man. And no good man would abandon someone like you.

He turned to you completely. Shifting so he had both your forearms in his hands.

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked, giving your arms the gentlest of squeezes.

That made you think. Skade was, when you thought on it, keeping you prisoner. She refused to tell you anything about where you came from or who she really was.

Something had always felt wrong. There was one thing to be protective, but the way Skade treated you it was like you were something to own, to covet. Barely the person you were.

“I…I do not know. I have never been anywhere else…”

Sihtric’s eyes were filled with nothing but sympathy. How long had the witch had you here?

“Never? Have you ever left the tower?” Sihtric asked, his thumbs now rubbing soothing circles on your arms as he saw panic and pain in your eyes.

“Never, Skade…she won’t let me.”

His jaw hardened. He had known he recognised the witch. Hated by Danes and Saxons alike. He’d heard rumours of a lost princess. Taken from a Dane village years ago when she was nothing but a child.

Was this her? Were you the lost princess?”

“Do you know where you come from?”

You only shook your head, tears already brimming in your eyes. And Sihtric didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest. Only then did you cry. Truly cry.

He could only wonder if anyone had ever held you?

Sihtric let you cry. His hand firm on your back and slowly rubbing up and down to soothe you.

Eventually, the tears let up and when you finally looked up at Sihtric, he looked nothing but determined.

“Then we’ll find out. Get whatever we can carry between us, I’ll make a rope so we can climb down.”

He gave you no time to answer, pulling whatever he could find from your bed to wrap together into a rope. In that time, you took your most precious book, some parchment and charcoals and the pins and brushes to braid your hair.

For practicality, you found another dress and bundled everything you wanted inside.

Nerves chewed at your stomach as you waited for Sihtric. This was happening. It wasn’t a tale from one of your books where the prince saves the princess.

But it was happening to you. You were finally leaving the tower after more years than you could possibly count.

Sihtric looped the rope around the thickest vine by the window.

“Are you ready, princess?”

The climb down the tower both felt like an eternity and less than a second all at the same time. Sihtric took most of the weight, climbing down first whilst you climbed down afterwards.

He waited for you at the bottom, your things over his back and his hand out to help you down. Sihtric knew leaving the rope was dangerous, but he wanted you as far away from that tower as possible.

His horse, thankfully, had remained where he’d left her. As was his pack and other things. The benefits of a secluded forest it seems.

When everything was packed on to the horse, including you, Sihtric prepared to leave.

“Where will we go? Skade will find us…”

Sihtric sighed, taking both your arms and wrapping them around his waist.

“She will have to go through me if she does,” he said simply, squeezing your hand before urging the horse to move.

Sihtric had every intention of eventually returning to Coccham. Explaining why he had returned with you would be a challenge, but Uhtred and the others were good men.

But he knew he couldn’t expect you to ride that long with no rest.

He knew there was a township nearby, mostly Dane controlled. And it was the opposite direction he had seen Skade leave in the day before. He could only hope you both would be safe enough there.

The gates of the town came into view eventually, the singular guard waving him through.

Sihtric rode until he came to an inn he had stayed at a handful of times as he passed through, sometimes alone and sometimes with his friends.

His horse was stabled, and he used a small trinket from his haul from the merchants to pay for a room. Somehow, he had a feeling you were not going to want to stay anywhere alone.

“Are we…will be safe here?” you asked, the moment you and Sihtric entered the room.

Sihtric put his pack and yours on to the bed, passing you to begin lighting the fire.

“Safe enough. The town I live in, where my lord and my friends live, is not all that far from here.”

The fire lit quickly, and you immediately gravitated towards the warmth. Sihtric took that time to just look at you. The way your braid had begun to come loose, the Freyja pendant hanging from the cord that was now wrapped in the middle of it. The way your dress seemed homemade, maybe you had even sewn it yourself.

“Your lord?” you asked, holding your hands out in front of the flames.

Sihtric realised that you really knew of nothing that happened outside the walls of that tower. He grabbed a fur from the bed, laying it out before the fire and sitting himself down. Holding out a hand for you to join him.

“Yes. My lord is Uhtred, currently in Coccham. Do you know where that is?”

Again, you shook your head.

Sihtric cocked his head in confusion. How could you not know? Not necessarily about Uhtred, but Coccham was a well enough known place.

Skade truly had kept you in the dark about everything.

“That’s alright, we’ll be there soon, and you can meet him.”

You smiled. How could a stranger, a man you had known barely a day, make you feel so comfortable. Not only had he saved you. He was going out of his way to look after you.

You settled beside him, the space between you small to remain on the fur.  The silence was comfortable, simply basking in the warmth of the fire.

But Sihtric could see you were tired. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he pulled you closer. Laying himself down and taking you with him. Your head on his chest and his arm around your waist.

And when you did not move, curling into him instead, he could only smile.

Sihtric made sure he was careful with you, gentle even. His hand stroking up and down your back. But as you got more comfortable, you moved to unpin your braid. The intricate style tumbling down your back, some loose waves tickling the skin of his arm.

Suddenly, everything he felt simply felt…more.

And he realised you were much the same. Your hand on his chest now gripping his shirt just a little tighter. Your face nuzzling more under the curve of his jaw.

He could smell the flowers that you had weaved into your hair. Your nose was filled with the smell of leather and sweat on his skin.

“Sihtric?” you said softly, your lips grazing his neck as he spoke.

He tilted his head down to look at you, only to see you looking straight up at him.

Without hesitation he pressed his lips to yours and though you froze in surprise initially, you soon reciprocated. The hand on his chest now tugging at his shirt, his arm around your waist pulling you almost on top of him.

But he didn’t want you to feel like he was expecting too much from you. He rolled you both to the side, one arm under you and holding you close. His lips never leaving yours.

Your hands found his chest, holding his shirt and seeming like you wanted to close any space that remained between you both. Sihtric’s hand on your waist trailed down, hooking your thigh over his hip.

He could feel your hesitation, and quickly broke the kiss. Staring directly into your eyes.

“We won’t do more than kiss, my princess, if that’s what you want?”

You pressed your lips to his.

“I just want you. You saved me, and I did not know I needed saving.”

Sihtric smiled, pressing his lips to yours. And then to the corner of your lips and then to the line of your jaw.

And the sigh that slipped from was more than enough to keep him going.

“I will save you time and time again, my princess, if that makes you happy.”

He had never felt like this. So entranced by a person, especially one he didn’t truly know. But he felt like he did know you. Almost like he had known you his whole life.

That was enough to make him pull back from his kisses. He could see the small flicker of disappointment, but he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his chest.

His face pressed into your hair and he heard you sigh again, your arm wrapping around his waist as you relaxed in his arms.

You were his princess now. Nothing, not even a witch, would take you away from him.

The tower came into view as Skade passed the forest’s threshold. The supplies were heavy in her pack, but that was not what her mind was focused on.

She saw it immediately, the twist of the makeshift rope standing out against the old stone of the tower.

A shriek of rage left her, loud enough to make the birds in forest flee in fear.

You were gone.

But you couldn’t have possibly managed that alone? The rope was strong, knotted in ways only travellers and warriors would do.

Someone had helped you.

Her hand gripped the rope, eyes fluttering closed. She could see you, clear as you always were.

But then she saw him. A Dane, the hammer pendant hanging from his neck and the axe on his back were clue enough. Something about him felt familiar, but the vision of him was too foggy for her to entirely pinpoint him.

What she could feel, however, was you. The bind that tied you both together was strong, Skade had cultivated it over the years she had kept you locked away.

Whoever had you, wherever he had taken you…she would find you.

No matter what it took.

Sihtric/TLK taglist:

@legitalicat @foxyanon @thenameswinter99 @multyfangirl

@sihtricsafin @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

(If you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

[little-diable]

Betrayal - Sihtric x Reader x Finan (smut)

I ain't sorry for the TLK fics I'll keep on posting, y'all just have to endure my obsession. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Set in S3E6/7, Sihtric betrays Uhtred and leaves his lovers behind, at least that's what Finan and the reader are forced to believe, till they reunite

Warnings: 18+, smut, a lot of smut lol, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, double penetration (2p in 1v), handjob, some angst, threesome

Pairing: Sihtric x fem!reader x Finan (about 2.2k words)

TLK Masterlist

Their hearts were heavy, and yet the weight resting on their souls had nothing on the pain clinging to their aching limbs. Æthelflæd's estate was filled with tired warriors, men that were stuffing their bellies full with bread and stew, choking on the ale they drowned to warm themselves. 

“Are you alright?” Finan’s accent grew thicker with every word he spoke, hand placed on her trembling thigh. (Y/n) was sitting between her lovers, tired eyes focused on the stew she couldn’t stomach. Her glassy eyes found Finan’s worried ones, taking a few moments to marvel at her lover’s dirty features, wondering how he still looked so awfully handsome, even after a fight this cruel. 

“I’m worried about Osferth, that’s all.” Her eyes wandered to Sihtric’s features, the warrior that had barely shared a word with them in the past hours. Something was weighing him down, forcing him to keep his mouth shut, pondering over whatever was echoing through his mind. “Sihtric?”

“Yes?” He didn’t look at her, eyes not wandering from his ale, watching his fingers move along the wooden cup. (Y/n)’s trembling hand tried to reach for his face, though forced to pull back as Uhtred sat down near Sihtric. She could barely spare the words their lord spoke her attention, though picking up that he’d leave for his brother's grave. Finan had pulled her closer, back pressed against his warm front. 

Only as Finan murmured a sharp “He does not” did (y/n) snap out of her trance, realising that something was off, a fight that would soon put the love the warrior shared with her and Finan to the test. Sihtric’s spiteful words about death and those that have died along the way left her tensing, hand trying to grasp Sihtric’s, only for her lover to shake her off. 

Hurt flashed through her eyes as she watched Uhtred rise to his feet, turning his back on the three of them. Finan’s hand grasped her waist, keeping her close, very well knowing that she was confused, hurt, and angered by the way her other lover was acting. 

“No man who serves Uhtred can rest, not until Skade is reclaimed.” Her eyes snapped towards Uhtred’s now angry features, watching how Finan tried to stop Sihtric from talking. Everything moved all too quickly, suddenly they were all standing, growling angry words and provocative phrases, while (y/n) tried to keep them calm. Finan’s uneasy eyes couldn’t help but watch his lover fall apart, struggling to keep her tears bottled in as Sihtric once again pushed her away, all too carelessly. 

“Then I will kill you.” Her air was stuck in her throat, body forcing itself past Uhtred to storm outside, heavily heaving as her body released the few bites she had forced into her system. With Finan hot on her heels, hand stroking her back, she allowed the man to guide her, teary eyes searching his, begging him to speak words that could calm her racing heart. 

“We can’t let him leave, Finan, we can’t.” Finan pulled her against his chest, cradling her as if he was scared that she’d break any moment now. He didn’t speak, eyes fluttering close as every cry of hers ripped his heart to shreds. 

……

Hours later (y/n) found herself pressed against Finan's naked chest, searching the distraction only he could offer. Her body was tired from the tears she had cried, the hurt swimming through her system.

"Look at me." Finan cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her trembling lower lip before he kissed her, gasping in surprise as (y/n) pulled him closer, forcing him to tower over her. "Are you sure?"

She could only nod her head, eyes squeezed shut as she felt his hand cup her heat, pushing two fingers into her tightness to prepare her for his cock. Finan's lips kissed their way down her throat, sparing her pulse point enough attention as he fucked her with his fingers, thumb rubbing her clit with just enough amount of pressure to push her out of her sadness, distracted for the upcoming hour at least.

(Y/n)'s needy gasps forced Finan to pull his hand from her cunt, bringing his arousal covered fingers to his mouth, cleaning his skin before he forced her thighs apart, positioning himself at her entrance.

"No matter what will happen, I will always be here for you, to love you. Love you just like Sihtric loves you." A cry ripped through her, hand searching his to interlace their fingers, needing to hold onto him as he pushed into her. For a few moments Finan kept still, allowing his lover to adjust, giving him enough time to wipe her tears away and to kiss her warm cheeks.

Even though (y/n) knew deep down that she'd cross paths with Sihtric again, she couldn't help but find strength in the way Finan loved her, how he cherished her, holding her close to remind her of the endless adoration he felt for her.

Finan fucked her slow at first, deep strokes that left her toes curling and her heart skipping beats, but with the first cry of his name, he began to pick up his pace, thrusts growing more ferocious. And as he loved her, in the dark room, she couldn't help but feel safe, and protected from her daunting thoughts.

……

The forest was cold, the snow-covered ground guided them further towards the Danes camp, eyes trying to focus on any movement, indicating that somebody was close. The wind stroked along their limbs, leaving them trembling and shaking, hoping that they’d eventually get the chance to warm their frozen fingers. 

Ever since Sihtric had left them,(y/n) had barely spoken a word to the others, caught in her anger, in the betrayal she felt, and the fear of never crossing paths with Sihtric again. Maybe it was foolish of her, she should be used to ever changing conditions, and yet she couldn’t. Finan had tried to distract her, holding her a tad bit closer at night, murmuring sweet nothings to remind her of the love he felt for her, and yet he didn’t manage to mend her broken heart. 

“Somebody’s coming.” They froze, watching a frame appear, moving closer and closer till they could make out Sihtric’s features, forcing a gasp out of (y/n). Finan had his hand clasped down on her wrist, keeping her from moving towards the man. Only as Uhtred and Sihtric shared a hug, followed by the sound of their laughter, did (y/n) snap out of her thoughts. Finan pushed past her, murmuring something about knowing of Sihtric and Uhtred’s game, but (y/n) didn’t move. 

“Love,” Sihtric murmured the word, taking careful steps to move closer, only for (y/n) to shake her head, chasing the now growing distance between them before Sihtric could touch her. Her anger kept thumping through her veins, though not because she was still hurt by his betrayal, but by the way he had pushed her, by the way he had shaken her off all too easily. 

“Give her some time.” Finan’s murmurs were drowned out by the heavy breaths leaving Sihtric, pained eyes watching her frame.

…… 

“Can we come in?” Finan’s voice broke the silence, eyes finding (y/n)’s. Her gaze flickered between Finan and Sihtric, slowly nodding her head to allow both of her lovers to enter. The silence returned within a few moments, engulfing them as Sihtric and Finan sat down on either side of her. With every passing second the silence grew more uncomfortable, a thick fog neither of them could break through. 

“I am sorry, we needed your sincere reaction to make them believe our fight.” Sihtric’s whispers forced her to scoff, eyes fluttering shut to sort through her racing thoughts. Her body was longing for him, wanting to feel his hands on her body, and yet her mind forced (y/n) to hold her grudges. 

“It’s not about that, I understand why you did it. But fuck, don’t you ever push me around like that again, don’t ever make me feel like you don’t want to be touched by me again.” Sihtric’s hand found her chin, tilting her head towards him, eyes burning through hers. He dipped his head down, lips finding hers, kissing her breathless while Finan could no longer bite down his smirk. 

“I think it’s time for Sihtric to make up for our lost time together, don't you think?” Finan’s murmurs were met with a hum rumbling through (y/n), sighing as Sihtric let go of her, rising back to his feet. All (y/n) could do was watch both men undo their coats, followed by their leather armour, exposing their prominent, flexing muscles. 

“Look at our pretty girl, we haven’t even touched you yet, petal.” The heavy Irish accent left (y/n)’s heart racing, thighs pressed together to soothe the ever growing ache. She was dripping for their touch, ready to be toyed with, allowing her lovers to use her body as if the gods themselves were walking amongst them. Sihtric touched her first, helping her out of her clothes, slowly exposing the body he hadn’t been able to touch for a while, and yet he had dreamt of her every single night. 

“Lay down.” The command was followed without any questions, naked body pressed against the bed, eyes finding the glistening ones of Finan. The warrior settled next to her, groaning as her hand found his hardening cock, pumping him for a few moments before she felt Sihtric’s warm tongue brush through her folds, making her halt her movements. A string of curses left the three of them, mixed together to form one sinful sound. 

“Jesus, I’ll never get used to this.” (Y/n) had started moving her hand once again, pushing Finan closer to the edge as Sihtric got lost in her taste, cherishing her as if he hadn’t seen his lover in years. Both were a tangled mess of limbs, hearts, and souls, forever one to walk the same path, to share their ever growing love. 

“Want to feel both of you, please.” Sihtric’s eyes met Finan’s, forcing a smirk to tug on both their lips, letting go of (y/n) to wordlessly reposition themselves. It wasn’t the first time she asked to be fucked by both men at the same time, and yet (y/n)’s heart picked up its pace, as if she was fighting a battle, very well knowing that she stood no chance against her opponents. 

With Finan sitting down on the bed to pull (y/n) into his lap, Sihtric positioned himself behind her, sharing a few mischievous glances with Finan. Her trembling hands were placed on Finan’s shoulders as she sank down on his cock, forehead pressed against his chest, needing a few moments to adjust. Sihtric made use of her moments of distraction, slowly pushing into her like they had done numerous times before. 

(Y/n)’s moan was drowned out by Finan’s lips meeting hers, swallowing her sounds as her cunt tried to adjust to both of their cocks, their alternating thrusts that left her shaking. Heat flushed through their veins, a heat so biting it felt as if the Devil himself was guiding their every movement, forcing them to confess to their every sin. 

Finan’s cold fingers found her bundle of nerves, circling her clit to push her further towards the edge, feeling her clench around both their cocks. She’d cum any moment now, gone for her two lovers like a ship sinking to the bottom of the rough ocean, one with the waves that have drowned her body and soul. 

“Fuck, so tight, even after all those months, made just for us.” Sihtric’s praises gave her the final push, trembling between both her lovers as her orgasm clashed through her. (Y/n)’s fingernails drew blood from Finan’s skin, leaving marks he’d wear proud like a soldier showing off his battle marks. It didn’t take long for the two men to follow, pulling out of her moments before they came. 

All three were heavily panting, bodies falling next to one another, getting lost in the silence that had now returned. Sihtric rose to his feet to reach for a piece of cloth, cleaning himself before he helped out his other two lovers, searching their closeness. 

“I promise, I’ll never hurt you like that again.” Sihtric pressed a kiss to her cheek, admiring her tired features, still strung out, and overstimulated. Her chuckles vibrated through her body, fingers interlaced with both of theirs. 

“If you do, I promise to hunt you down myself.”

[misguidedasgardian]

I JUST HAS THE MOST SINFUL THOUGHT ABOUT UHTRED X FINAN X OSFERTH X SIHTRIC X SEER!READERRRR

Help meeee

So… remember the first season when Iseault showed up? She was a virgin… and they kept her like that so she could still had her visions…

Well… now in season three they don’t find Skade… they find Reader, who is scared by uhtred… he takes her prisoner and she says she will curse him…

Following the logic of what he knows… (that reader admits she has never been touched by a man) he thinks he has to defile her to break the curse 😏

And what better to make sure of it that make his pretty boys take their turn as well?

Starts with dub con but reader wants it then! She is not a bad witch only a scared defenseless witch! Muahaha

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Skade domming Uhtred’s daughter reader 👀🤭

This is so horrid, I'm so sorry lmao

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. Dom/sub dynamics, dubious consent, knife play, tiddy succin', oral (f receiving, duh), orgasm denial, coercion, incestuous voyeurism. Word count: ~1k

“Just let me go, I haven’t done anything!” You plead with the flaxen haired seeress that stands above you.

Skade crouches in front of you, bright blue eyes staring into yours. “I know you haven’t, but I need you or your father will not come. I’ve no intention of hurting you, unless you want me to.”

You try to ignore the way her last few words set your pulse racing, focusing on the soreness of your skin beneath the roughness of the rope that binds your wrists together. “Will you at least cut me free?”

She laughs, though it is humourless. “Do you think me stupid? You will run the moment I loosen your binds.”

“I-I won’t!” You bargain, desperately trying to think of a way to win the witch’s favour. “Whatever it is you want from my father, what if I gave it to you instead? Set me free and I’ll ensure that it is yours.”

Skade’s eyes travel over the length of you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I want your father to submit to me, to be mine. Will you submit to me?”

You swallow thickly, your mouth running dry at the way she regards you - a cat toying with a mouse. “Wh-what would that mean?” You manage to stammer.

“It means…” She produces a dragger from her sleeve, and for a moment you think she intends to cut your bindings, until she brings the blade downwards in a slash, slicing open the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. You gasp, your eyes widening “...that you’d be mine. Would you like to be mine?”

This woman cannot be in her right mind, exposing you like this, asking you if you’d like to be hers. How does one person belong to another anyway? Was she asking you to be her slave? “I don’t know what you mean!” You protest, hating the way you can feel your nipples pebble against the coolness of the forest air.

“I will help you to understand.” She tells you, gripping your wrists by their bindings and raising them above your head. “Keep these here.”

You do as you’re told, leaning your wrists back against the trunk of the tree you sit against, above your head. You let out a yelp of surprise as Skade leans forward, wrapping her lips around one of your nipples and sucking harshly. It sends a jolt of arousal through your body and your fingers scrabble frantically against the bark of the tree, trying to find purchase, before lowering. “What are you doing?!” You ask nervously, taken aback by how you respond to her touch, uncomfortable that you crave more.

She releases you with a wet pop, roughly grabbing your hands and placing them back where they were. “I said to keep these here. You won’t like it if I have to tell you again.”

You comply with her command, keeping your hands still as she returns her attention back to your chest. You whimper beneath her attention, breath coming in shallow pants as she palms at the soft flesh, flicking her tongue over both peaks.

Just as you feel you are about to lose yourself in the sensation, she stops, eyes boring into you as she looks up. “Will you submit to me, daughter of Uhtred?”

Tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you emit a piteous whine. “I don’t know what you’re asking of me!”

She rolls her eyes. “I need your submission, not your curiosity. Keep your hands where they are.”

You tremble as she moves lower, but do as you’re told, watching in shock as she pushes your dress up around your hips and tugs your smallclothes to the side. “You…you cannot touch me there…” You say weakly, attempting to close your legs.

She pries them back open, before grinning at you. “Oh, but I can…”

You mewl eagerly as she laves the flat of her tongue through your folds, the sensitivity of your body to her touch at odds with the thought in your mind that this is wrong. That thought becomes hazy and far away as Skade begins to circle your bud, sending warmth rippling through your body as you clench around nothing.

You no longer recognise your own voice, the sounds leaving your lips are too needy, too wanton to possibly be you. With every suckle of her lips and lap of her tongue you are dragged closer to the edge of a precipice, and just as you are about to topple over the edge, she stops.

“Submit to me.” She orders huskily. “Give yourself to me.”

“I don’t…I can’t..” You cry despairingly, frustrated at the loss of the sensation she was urging you towards and still not knowing what is being asked of you.

The sting of the slap she delivers to your aching centre causes you to jolt and you squeal at the pleasurable hurt. Skade kitten licks at you, soothing the pain she’s inflicted, slowly dragging you back towards the euphoria you’d experienced moments before.

“Say you’re mine and I’ll continue.” She whispers.

The last of your resolve crumbles, you still don’t know what you are agreeing to, but you don’t care. You’d tell her anything in this moment just to keep her between your thighs.

“Yes!” You sob. “I submit, I’m yours!”

Your legs shake at either side of Skade’s head as she rewards you with several deep licks to your pearl that finally have you falling into oblivion, a chant of “yours, yours, yours” tumbling from your mouth, as you arch against her.

She raises her head, a look of satisfaction lays serenely across her pretty features. “See how easily your daughter submits to me, Uhtred?” She calls out. “Perhaps now you will do the same.”

Your blood runs cold at her words, snapping you out of your blissful haze as you turn your head to meet the horrified stare of your father.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔𝐛𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: a long awaited cross over that I promised months ago.. please do not hate me! Also, Danes = vikings, but the word viking is also a verb. So, you could say 'Hey Ma I'm off to go viking!'.

Saxons = those from England

Celts are an umbrella term for Native Britons who were here before the Saxons.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

It didn't make sense.

Ubbe's shoes walked the length of the boat and back again. Creaking wherever he put his feet, the wind was howling. Even during the day. With the sun high in the sky; not that he could see it.

None of the men or women could see more than five feet in front of them. Once he, along with two other ships left Kattegat, the mist had surrounded them.

Ubbe had the mind to turn back, but he couldn't see the shorline of Kattegat. Only the thick whirls of fog surrounding the boats.

What would have been a long journey, was shortened to mere seconds. And Ubbe was in a place he did not wish to be.

It was a place where his father had died. Where a many great Viking men had died.

But something was different. The time, Ubbe knew it; years had passed somehow. Many, many years. And when he took 4 men into a tavern to investigate, he asked and was told.

Ubbe and his men had gone through 100 years on the water.

・Life had gotten better since Uhtred and his men frequented your village - hell, everywhere had gotten better; not only were the raids less and less.

・But safety and hope were two words that Uhtred of Bebbanberg gave the people

・Well, Uhtred along with his three men - Finan, Sihtric & Osferth.

・You always had a crush on Finan. His Irish charm and humour always brightened your day.

・But he had never ventured for more than conversation and company

・You thought he must have an eye on someone else, but news never reached your ears about anyone else.

・And then something happened.

・Two ships full of Danes had washed on Englands' shores. It was not like any other raid. The Danes spoke differently, their weapons seemed old and the way they dressed was so ... incredibly different to the Danes you all knew

・Where did they come from? Why hadn't any other Dane claimed to know them? And why couldn't they point to where they were from on a map?

・These thoughts plagude you for days. You did your chores and you thought about it, you cooked and cleaned - and thought about it.

・However, curiosity won out and you snuck into the woods to get a better look at the semi-prisoners.

・One man caught your eye instantly.

・And he ...

・He was ... beautiful.

・Outlandishly so, you hadn't seen such a man and with so many unique tattoos...

・His hair was long and braided, parts shaved on the sides and you were taken aback.

・A blush creeping so bright you swore he would be able to see you in the dark - like a beacon of sorts

・But a body had bumped against your own, a hand over your mouth. You bit down - hard and Osferth hissed

"Ow!" He said, trying to keep his voice low as he flung his hand about in pain.

"Well don't do that!" You whispered incredulously.

"What are you staring at?" whispered Osferth, crouching down and following your line of sight.

"No-nothing, nothing, stop it-"

"Ooh got your eye on somethin' then?" he mocked.

・You rolled your eyes and pushed him. He caught your arm and hoisted himself up, catching you against him in the process.

・This back and forth behaviour was normal between you and Osferth. As soon as you met, it had started.

・He knows about your feelings for Finan, and has helped you to gain his attention time and time again

・The only failure in this was the fact that he didn't want to put you at risk. Finan couldn't bear to have you as some sort of target.

・But god did that change when Ubbe started talking to you.

・You decided to help around with the new Danes

・Your skills were highly renound and useful no matter who you were with

・Ubbe did everything he could to get your attention and soon Finan became a shell of his witty self.

・Grouchy and sensitive, Finan couldn't stop watching the two of you interract.

"I mean wha' does she see in 'im??"

"- Finan, please-" Uhtred interjected, trying to calm him down. He did not calm down.

"Just tell her how you feel-" Sihtric exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I - I cannot."

"You cannot what?" You said coming up behind him, the trees and darkness hiding you easily.

・From that day on you and Finan were together, but the subject of Ubbe hung loosely in the air.

・However, your relationship was changed because of Ubbe. Who shocked both you and Finan.

"It is true, I want you. But I want both of you. The funny one as well."

・Finan gulped.

・Your relationship is very loving. It truly is.

・There's a lot of PDA

・But even more affection when people aren't around

・Like casually sitting on each other's laps

・Forehead Touches

・The union between all three of you created something. It was peace.

・Peace settled over the group, a sense of ease becoming easier and easier to grasp.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shut Up” (You) x “Make Me” (Ubbe) x “Just Kiss Already.” (Finan)

Found Family

Intuitive & Attentive (Finan) x Restless & Flirty (Ubbe) x Witty & Intuitive (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

Love Transcending Boundaries

Legacy and Legend

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏��

Scotland by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

Golden Years by David Bowie

To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Little Seer

Pairing: Sihtric x reader(female) x Finan

Authors note: there was something in the air again 😅 Brainstorming and writing together with the talented and amazing @little-diable is an absolute pleasure. Thank you so much for co-writing this little story with me! 💖💖💖

Warnings: SMUT 18+, a bit of angst, the usual things

Summary: as if being Skade's sister wasn't challenge enough, you are faced with an impossible choice between two warriors, competing over your heart

Word Count: 4,8 K

You closed your eyes and inhaled the cool, crisp morning air. A fleeting aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward you, evoking a vivid memory of work-worn hands kneading dough on a high table, so tall that your nose barely reached its surface.

"Go fetch your sister," a soft voice urged, and you giggled as a finger touched your nose, leaving a white flour mark on it.

"Skade, Skade, where are you? Mom is baking bread," you called out cheerfully, your voice ringing through the yard like a bright, joyful stream. Your small feet carried you from one building to the next.

"Shhh, what are you doing? Stop yelling! You just scared all my spirits away," an irritated hiss made you freeze in your tracks as your lively, smiling eyes met two stormy, piercing blue ones. Your face twisted into a mocking grimace as you stuck out your tongue at your sister. Her giggle was soft and sparkling, reminiscent of a tiny bell's chime, as she took your hand and you both skipped joyfully back to the house.

Long before the big wooden gates of Dunholm creaked open to welcome the small traveling party, you had already known she was approaching Dunholm. The runes never lied to you. Bound by the same blood and the same divine gift, your destinies were intricately woven together in a delicate tapestry of love and hate. You knew you couldn’t escape each other and  no matter how hard you tried to defy this fate, you had always failed.

Your palm tightened around the shaft of the Nithstang you had crafted tonight, wet and sticky with the warm blood dripping down your fingers, as you forced your eyes open. Your steps, steady and resolute, carried you to the small paddock across the inner yard, now a makeshift prison.

"Release him!" Your voice, edged with a metallic tone, carried a hint of the anger simmering deep within you. Something stirred in the shadows at the back, and a silhouette began to move closer to the bars. Two familiar, deep pools of dazzling blue met your gaze.

"You know I won't," a challenge danced on the plush lips curved into a smirk. "You should know me better by now, little sis."

"Don't make me use my power against you," you warned, your breath forming small clouds of mist as you spoke, casting a shimmering, translucent veil over your sister's face and giving it a mysterious glow.

"You wouldn't dare," Skade smirked, tilting her head defiantly.

"You leave me no choice," you replied, not with anger but with a surge of resolve. With a loud cry, you swung the Nithstang high into the air, driving it deep into the ground to face the place where your sister was imprisoned.

Your love for her was deeply rooted in every fibre of your being, yet you despised the monster she had become, transformed by power-hungry men who sought to use her for their own ascension. It was this profound care for her, this need to protect her even from herself, that had driven you to carve the ancient runes into the wood under the cover of night. The power of love was stronger than the power of hate, yet your sister, as mighty as she might be, still failed to recognize this simple truth.

Fear and caution had long been your constant companions, often mingled with respect, but genuine fascination and appeal seldom visited your life. You struggled to suppress your smile as you constantly felt two pairs of eyes almost burning into your back each time when you turned away.

The dark brown eyes exuded warmth, strength, and protectiveness, creating a comforting presence that seemed to envelop you each time you entered the great hall. The peculiar, mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity, radiating a sense of possessiveness. They darted around the room, absorbing every detail, as if laying claim to every word you spoke and every move you made.

An Irish-accented voice, rich and booming, reached you near the stream just as you were about to lift the heavy buckets brimming with water. "May I help you?"

"Thank you, that's very kind," you replied with a smile, watching the sturdy, well-built Irishman effortlessly lift your load and nod for you to lead the way.

To break the somewhat awkward silence, you inquired, "How's Lord Uhtred?"

"He's well, thanks to you, lady. On the way here, I had my doubts he'd even make it," the warrior replied, his voice thick with genuine worry and care. The soothing quality of his words made you turn and cast a warm smile back at him while noticing his shoulders straighten and his eyes light up with a friendly glow.

Having seen him spar before, it was clear that beneath his somewhat soft and pappy shell lay a core of steel, marked by agility and resolve.

"Lady, I was looking for you..." greeted a cheerful voice accompanied by a bright smile at the steps before your hut. "I... I was riding out the horses, and there, in the meadow, I thought of you when I saw these," stammered the young, handsome Dane, revealing a bouquet of wildflowers he had been hiding behind his back. His gaze quickly shifted to his feet.

The bouquet was not a mere haphazard cluster; it was artfully arranged—a vibrant swirl of colours with bright yellow flowers at the centre, gently transitioning to soft pink and white ones around the edges, framed by green leaves.

"They are beautiful, thank you so much, Sihtric," you said, your eyes widening in surprise. Your fingers lightly brushed against his as you accepted the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. A muffled scoff from behind made you bury your face deeper into the bouquet to hide your amused smirk upon seeing Finan roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Lady, let me..." Sihtric hurriedly ascended the few steps and swung the door open for you, you stepped inside and Sihtric followed you, letting the door close just before Finan could enter. You turned to him with a surprised smile and, hearing Finan’s disgruntled curse behind the door, Sihtric quickly opened it again to let in the visibly annoyed Irishman.

"Please put the buckets there," you directed, pointing to a wooden bench in the corner while turning to fetch a vase for the flowers from the cupboard.

The sound of shuffling feet and muffled murmurs behind you indicated that both warriors were hesitant to leave. As you turned to face them, Finan spoke first, "I... I placed the buckets on the bench... I..." He scratched the back of his head, his eyes darting around the room, seemingly searching for something to say.

"Oh, your door is half ajar; it needs fixing," Sihtric suddenly exclaimed. "I'll fetch some tools and be right back."

"You've never held a hammer and nail in your life, you don’t even know what they look like, and now you want to pretend you can fix a door?" Finan scoffed, clearly upset he hadn’t noticed the issue first.

Sihtric hurried off to fetch the tools, leaving Finan behind, still bristling from the earlier mishap and determined not to be outdone by the young Dane. “I can fix that just fine without his help,” Finan muttered, eyeing the slightly ajar door as if it were a direct challenge to his capabilities.

When Sihtric returned, he clumsily carried a bundle of tools wrapped in cloth. Finan was already examining the door, squinting critically. “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” Sihtric announced with a confident swagger, setting the bundle down with a thud.

The two warriors stood side by side, peering at the assortment of tools, which included a couple of misshapen awls and a few worn hammers. “This one looks about right,” Sihtric said, picking up an awl with an uncertain glance.

“That’s not how you hold it, give it here,” Finan scoffed, snatching the tool and holding it upside down. You watched, amused, as they fumbled, each trying to outdo the other with bravado that was clearly unfounded.

“Here, you need to tighten the hinges,” Sihtric suggested.

“No, the alignment’s off. It needs a new hole,” Finan countered, eyeing the frame as if he could will it into compliance.

Sihtric attempted to use a hammer, gently tapping around the hinge as if coaxing it to tighten by itself. Meanwhile, Finan, now wielding an awl, tried to carve a new hole in the wood, his efforts resulting in a crooked and unnecessary indentation.

The result was a door that hung even more awkwardly than before. 

“You know, maybe we should just ask the carpenter in the village,” Sihtric finally conceded, stepping back to examine their handiwork, which looked worse than when they started.

Finan, though reluctant to admit defeat, nodded in agreement. “Let’s just say woodworking isn’t our calling,” he said, chuckling awkwardly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their earnest but bungled efforts, appreciating the entertainment, if not the craftsmanship. “I think that’s wise,” you agreed, still smiling. “But thank you both for trying. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Everything went quiet suddenly, with just shy glances and nervous shuffling of feet filling the air. It was getting awkward, but it was obvious neither warrior wanted to leave. The question in their eyes was so clear and so charming that this time, you couldn't help but let a grin slip.

Their fondness for you was apparent, neither attempting to conceal it, as they'd been playfully fighting for your attention for a week now, and you'd be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it. The two warriors were as different as fire and water, their contrasting energies sparking against each other with every word and gesture. 

You really appreciated how Finan always looked out for you, always there to lend a hand, careful and attentive. His support was rock solid, his eyes always warm, and he never missed a chance to gently tease you.

Then there was Sihtric, with his wild, spontaneous streak that drew you in just as much. He’d show up at all sorts of odd times with flowers, or suddenly appear at your hut with a huge smile and a basket full of goodies, just because he’d found the perfect spot on a nearby hill to catch the sunset. No matter how tired you were, his laughter and sheer joy were contagious, always managing to sweep you up in another adventure.

Both warriors truly brightened up your life, even helping you momentarily forget the deep worry your sister's presence constantly evoked. As time passed, it was clear Uhtred was committed to his decision to stay with his brother, which only seemed to make the boys more hopeful whenever they looked your way. But what really amazed you was something quite rare, something you hadn’t seen before—even with their ongoing competition for your attention, their friendship didn’t waver—not even a bit.

They were both waiting for you to make a choice between them. And honestly, as much as you wanted to decide, making up your mind just seemed impossible.

Stars were twinkling in the sky as you rolled your head back, letting the river run through your hair as you took your bath. Darkness wrapped itself around you like a veil, hidden from the drunken men you didn’t want to cross paths with, the nosy fighters who’d give a lot for a good look at your naked frame. 

Your body had ached as you found your way down to the river, desperate for some moments alone, away from the confusion of being close to Sihtric and Finan pushed through you and the confusion your sister managed to push through your veins with every rising of the sun. It was a steady back and forth you should be all too used to by now. 

“Here’s good!” The raspy voice echoed through the air, dripping with his Irish accent while forcing your eyes away from the sky to watch the two men walk closer. For a moment, you didn’t move, letting your curious eyes watch the two as you waited for them to notice you. But Finan and Sihtric kept undressing, not picking up on your closeness just now.

“It’s not very honourable of you to disturb a woman’s bath, now is it?” Humour flushed through you as you spoke the word, chasing the protection the dark water offered. Only your head and throat were visible, hiding the body both Finan and Sihtric had been imagining the past days, chasing highs with their minds solemnly focused on you. 

“Apologies, lady.” SIhtric stumbled over his words, drawing a loud laugh from you as you kept on watching them. 

“Would you mind some company?” It was a bold question the Irishman asked, knowing that this could take an ugly turn. Perhaps it was the mead flushing through your system, perhaps it was the thrilling coldness of the river, whatever it was, it forced your mouth open once again, giving room to your words rolling off your tongue. 

“If you can behave, I wouldn’t mind your company, no.” The hum leaving Finan seemed to snap Sihtric out of his trance, averting his gaze as the two kept undressing. For some more seconds, you allowed yourself to study their muscular frames, a sight that left you trembling with heat pooling between your thighs before you eventually let your eyes wander back up to the sky. 

“It’s a beautiful sight, aye.” Finan’s voice wrapped itself around you as he moved closer, marvelling at the starry sky. Even though you kept your eyes focused on the sky, you couldn’t help but focus on the heat he emanated – a heat that only grew stronger as Sihtric also stepped towards you. “But we are fortunate men, us two, we don’t have to look that far for a beautiful sight.”

The words left you laughing, unable to bite down your smile as you turned towards the two men. Mischief was swimming in their pupils, it seemed as if whatever back-and-forth they had felt between one another had found some end, a compromise perhaps. Whatever it was, it drew them even closer, giving you the chance to pull away before overstepping any boundaries 

“Others may no longer respect your honour if they see you here with us, lady.” Sihtric’s husky voice was about to draw a moan out of you, reminding you of the words you had imagined them to speak as you had chased your high just this morning, thinking of these two warriors now caging you between their bodies. 

“And why is that?” Slowly, you rose, exposing your naked chest to Finan, who was standing in front of you. You felt Sihtric tugging himself against your back, with his tensed abs pressing into your soft skin, with his hardening cock pressed against your behind. An unfamiliar heat took over, guiding your every moment – you were about to slip up, about to give in while your mind was silenced. And for the first time, you were alright with letting go, diving head-first into an adventure you had been dreaming of for days. 

Sihtric’s hands found your waist, keeping you pressed to him as Finan’s warm hand cupped your cheek. You could feel their breaths teasing your skin, making you feel as if you were their sacrifice, one with the fire they were about to toss you into, leaving you trembling and aching – all because of them. 

“Once you lose your honour to us, we won’t let you go again, little lady.” You scoffed at the nickname Finan used for you, a sound that was turned into a moan as Sihtric’s fingers danced down your stomach, finding their way to your pulsing bundle. The moan that clawed through you had nothing human-like to it, torn between a warrior’s cry and an animalistic growl. A sound so sinful, you felt both men chuckle; a chuckle of victory; a chuckle of excitement. 

Tonight you were theirs. Tonight you wouldn’t break free from their grasp. Not tonight. 

“Oh, gods.” The words clawed through you as Sihtric’s fingers began to move in circular motions, rubbing your bundle of nerves just enough to make the hairs at the back of your neck rise. It felt as if you were trapped by some kind of spell, chaining you to these two men who explored your body with their lips. Finan’s beard scratched your skin as he kissed your throat, dipping his head down to find your hardening nipples, all while Sihtric’s teeth teased the spot where your shoulder met your neck. 

“No gods will answer your prayers tonight, pretty lady. For now, you’re ours to play with.” Sihtric’s raspy words were about to push you over the edge, chasing your release without feeling either one of them buried deep inside of you yet. You were desperate for more, torn between different sensations that left you trembling and aching for more. 

“I want you, please.” It was pathetic almost how needy you were, too far in to pick up on the sly grin tugging on Finan’s lips, wordlessly communicating with Sihtric. 

“How do you want us?” Finan’s lips teased yours, not kissing you fully, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But nothing could pull you from these two, not tonight at least. Sihtric tightened his grip on you as you kept quiet, adding more pressure to his moving fingers, toying with your pulsing bundle. 

“Speak when you’re asked to, don’t play any games.” You choked on your gasps at Sihtric’s demanding command, leaving you shuddering between them. 

“Both of you, I don’t care how, I just need you.” Within moments you were shifted around, pressed down on a nearby stone to balance your body as Finan positioned himself behind you. You were close to passing out, letting your racing heart guide you as your glassy eyes wandered down Sihtric’s muscular front, straight to his twitching cock. The Dane positioned himself in front of you, fingers pulling your hair together to draw your mouth closer to him. 

“Who are we to deny a pretty lady’s wish, huh?” Finan pushed into you without another warning, tearing another moan from you that was silenced by Sihtric’s cock. Your mouth engulfed him, lips wrapped around his tip to suck on him. His taste stuck to your tongue, a taste you’d forever remember, just like the feeling of Finan finally fucking you. The Irishman didn’t grant you any mercy, he fucked you as if the Devil himself was chasing him, a sensation so strong your walls kept fluttering around him.

“What a devilish mouth for such a sweet seer.” Sihtric’s praises shot shudders down your spine and drew sounds from you that vibrated on his cock as he pushed further down your throat. You were close to seeing stars, close to letting the darkness that called your name swallow you. Tonight you didn’t care about what may happen to you. Tonight you didn’t care about losing yourself to these two handsome warriors. Tonight you were simply theirs. 

“You feel divine, lady.” Finan groaned his words as he fucked you even deeper, pressed down on the cold stone that would surely leave its marks on your body. This night would leave its bruises on you, bruises you’d forever remember, while silently hoping that they’d leave some more on your body in the upcoming days and weeks. 

Tears ran down your warm cheeks, tears of desperation and lust, drawn from your eyes by the feeling of Sihtric’s cock nudging your throat, by the feeling of Finan’s calloused fingertips rubbing your overstimulated bundle, pushing you over the edge within moments. 

Finan fucked you through your high as Sihtric groaned your name, painting your tongue and cheeks white with his release. You didn’t dare break eye contact with the handsome Dane as you swallowed, not even as you felt Finan stain your behind with his cum. It was a moment so intimate that you were sure neither Finan nor Sihtric could ever forget about it, just like you. 

The three of you were heavily panting as silence wrapped itself around you, drawing a laugh out of you as you rose back to your feet. You couldn’t help but shake your head as you studied the two for another moment, trying to accept what had just happened. 

“What’s so funny, lady?” Finan pulled you against his broad chest, grinning in success as you clung to him, wordlessly telling the two that you weren’t planning on running anytime soon. 

“I’m just happy, I think.” Your eyes wandered towards Sihtric, grinning at the man who looked at you as if you had hung up the stars in the sky yourself, a true masterpiece only a few were fortunate enough to take in. 

“We won’t let you go again, we stay true to our words.” As much as you wanted to give in, to let this dream suck you into its grasp for some more moments, you couldn’t, breaking out of your hazy trance. Carefully you stepped away from Finan to sink back into the cold water, cleaning yourself for one last time that evening. 

“Don’t make any promises, Irishman. You don’t know what’s coming upon us, it will be cruel, guided by my sister’s hands.”

The clang of weapons and the wild shouts from the crowd echoed off the walls of Dunholm, deafening you with the force of a thunderstorm. You had always been certain of the foolishness and recklessness of men, yet they continued to surprise you.

Your decision to serve Ragnar was based on his ability to listen and consider matters without letting emotions cloud his judgement—a rare trait among men. But this time was different.

Your eyes shifted, catching a glimpse of Skade at the far end of the square. How had you missed it? Distracted by a fuzzy haze of love and admiration, you hadn't noticed the spider spinning its web behind you, the viper weaving its venom into the hearts of men. Now, you were forced to watch as arrogance and false pride shattered the fragile peace you had so carefully helped to nurture.

"Are you satisfied? Do you really think this will bring you anything?" you hissed into Skade's ear.

"I’ve won, little sister. I always win, whatever it takes. There’s no turning back. Uhtred is mine. He will come to rule all Danes and Saxons; he’s been born to lead. I’ve seen that. And I'll rise with him. He's bound to me, and there's nothing you can do about it," she whispered back, her words slicing through you like the sharpest knife, reopening old wounds you had struggled to heal.

“This is no game, Skade. Stop this madness. You’ve gone too far. You took a life that wasn’t yours to claim, just to replace her. This will have consequences, and you know it. Release him and stay here with me. Please, sister,” you pleaded, knowing deep down it was likely futile, but you had to try.

There was a subtle shuffle of feet before your sister finally turned to face you. Your pleading gaze met her icy stare, the chill from her eyes almost freezing your words in midair.

“Did you enjoy the company of those two fools, calling themselves warriors?” she asked coldly, her chin lifting slightly as she tilted her head to the right, scrutinising you through her long lashes. “Tell those two hounds to stay behind, or if they're foolish enough to follow their master, tell them not to interfere with me. You know better than anyone what happens to those who get in my way.”

You couldn’t remember how you got home, the sound of the door, shutting behind you with a loud thud as you slammed your back against the gnarled wood, startling you. You slid down the door to the floor, elbows on your knees, cradling your head in your hands.

Sobs wracked your body, starting quietly and gradually becoming louder and uncontrollable, until you threw back your head, releasing a loud, desperate cry that tore through you. Yes, you knew all too well what happened when someone interfered with your sister. You knew the agony of feeling like your heart was being ripped from your chest, leaving a wound that wouldn't heal, a wound that lingered for years.

She had taken everything from you once, and without a moment’s hesitation, she would do it again. Of that, you were certain.

"Come with us," Finan urged, his large, rough palm reaching out for yours while his thumb gently traced circles on your skin.

"We will care for you, protect you," Sihtric added, his two-coloured eyes searching for yours, but you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. You pulled your hands away from Finan’s gentle grip and, needing something to occupy them, began nervously adjusting and straightening your clothes. You shook your head, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

"Stay here, both of you, stay with me," you countered, finally lifting your head, your eyes pleading as they moved between Sihtric and Finan.

Silence stretching between you, Finan stepped forward first. He enveloped you in a strong embrace, his arms a fortress that for a brief moment, warded off what was about to come. As he pulled back, his hands cupped your face, and he leaned in to place a tender, lingering kiss on your lips

Sihtric, his expression a complex tapestry of regret and resolve, moved closer. His farewell was quieter, more restrained, as if he feared that any show of passion might crumble his resolve. He took your hands in his, holding them between you both, his gaze finally locking with yours. Slowly, he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Words were superfluous; everything that needed to be said shimmered in the air around you, poignant and bittersweet.

“Be careful. Don’t underestimate my sister,” you finally broke the silence, “She can turn Uhtred against you.”

You saw the disbelief in their eyes and sighed deeply. “You have no idea of what she is capable of. This is just the beginning.”

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[angelsworks]

Little Witch The last kingdom x reader

Chapter 4

Next Chapter -> H E R E

Series Masterlist -> Here

Type: Series

Summary: You recover from use of your powers. Later you have a vision where you meet someone from your past.

Warnings: 18 +, suggestive situations, etc

Uhtred moves toward your small form. Crumpled on the ground.

“Are you sure you want to do that mate?” Finan asks, still keeping a great distance between the two of you.

Uhtred turns to look at Finan with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, what if she gets you with her mind powers.” Finan’s voice has an edge of mockery. But his concern is real. He’s just seen you melt a man’s mind without touching him. He’s not convinced you won’t do something similar to Uhtred. Even in your sleeping form.

“What harm can she do while asleep?” Uhtred remarks. If you could do something like this while at their camp, it was worth noting that you chose not to.

He’s feels more certain you have good intentions towards him and his fellow warriors. While he was not entirely convinced of your innocence, his reservations towards you dwindled. Having no trouble picking you up or being near you more now.

He could see now that you were nothing like Skade. He could see why men feared Skade, her outward appearance matched her inner intentions. Yet with you he sees no reason to be scared. Well not until a few moments ago. Compared to Skade your vision was much clearer and your power was clearly stronger.

Fate had sent you his way for a reason. Now he was sure he would accept it. Fate had not been kind to him recently. He argued that this might be a some sort of present from the gods. A way to make up for all of the bad.

He crouched near your body. Your breathing soft, as you lay on your side. Your tattered dress covered in dirt. Both old and new.

Uhtred brushes a piece of hair out of your face. Taking the time to observe the peace on your face, that he sees only when you sleep.

Finan sends a look towards Sihtric and Osferth. Realising that any advice he gave to Uhtred about not thinking with his cock, clearly went in one ear and out the other.

The feelings among Finan, Sihtric and Osferth were almost unanimous. They’d seen the disruption and trouble Skade had left. They expected the same from you. Yet watching you today changed some of their perceptions.

They had decided you couldn’t be truly evil. Not when you went out of your way to save Osferth. At a tax to your own health.

They had decided to no longer judge you based of your appearance. You may look small and weak physically, but they were forced to stretch their ideas of strength after watching you force a man to his God with just a look.

The one perception that did not change was that you were dangerous. If they were not friends with Uhtred, they would see him as dangerous. Dangerous because of his immense strength and skill both on and off the battlefield.

You were dangerous because you were both a witch and a stranger. They had no stories shared with you, no memories, no battles. They didn’t know the first thing about you. Not even your name.

Uhtred reached his arms underneath you, picking you up and carrying you to his horse. He struggled little as he mounted his horse with you in his arms. Positioning you to straddle his lap, leaning your head on his chest. Drawing his own cloak around you.

Your body was limp. Even with the dead weight he thought your body too light. Your dress hid your shape. Though the contact between his chest and your body allowed him to realise how small you really were. As his arm held you close he could almost feel your bones through the thin layer of skin covering them.

He would make sure you were fed properly from now on. If you were to stick around he wouldn’t want you weak.

The horses went back into formation as they walked down the road again. Finan beside him. Osferth and Sihtric behind. All being extremely quiet.

“What will become of her?” Osferth asks, voice gentle. Mind contemplating your fate. Fate that now in rested in their hands.

Uhtred thinks about it, “she stays with us, but we will still be cautious of her. Know now she is no fake.”

“So have you decided to keep her then?” Finan’s question makes him snort. The sound making you stir beside him.

“A witch this powerful,” he looks down to you once more. “I would be foolish not to.”

Your mind is blank. Emerged in darkness.

A dull light emerging from the darkness works to break your unconscious state. The drowsiness of your mind begins to agitate you, as you struggle to escape it. You feel your mind try to awaken but your body is still numb. You try to move your arms, lift your lids, stretch you toes. All prove fruitless.

Slowly, the drowsiness begins to clear and your mind begins to sharpen. It feels as thought knives are being pushed through your skull as you begin to wake up. The pain solicits a groan, which passes your lips. Breaking the seal between them.

As you stir you are made acutely aware of your surroundings. The sound of horses hooves surround you. Your body is rocked forwards and backwards, a motion you match to being on a horse. Your face feels the cold of the wind, yet your body does not. A thick cloak covers you.

Your nose is filled with the scent of wood, leather and musk. The last scent makes your eyes flip open. You see the detailing of Uhtred’s chest plate. You comprehend the position your in. Practically wrapped around Uhtred’s front, face pressed into his chest, while his arms wrap around you and hold the reins. They act as barriers, securing you in place.

You want to feel embarrassed but your main concern is the pain radiating from your body. It was the same when you killed one of Steffens men. It made your body weak and drained your energy. The feeling was in no way pleasant.

This time you were already so weak before you killed the bandit. You weren’t sure what energy you had left to drain. All you knew was the pain you felt was worse than the last time and if Uhtred wasn’t holding you up, you’d lost likely be on the floor.

You groaned again as you moved your head to look at Uhtred.

“Easy witch, you move any more and you’ll fall from my horse.”

You said nothing as you stilled your body. Trying to remain as still as possible. While practically balancing on his lap.

While the position is not proper, being so close to someone else brings you comfort. You can’t remember the last time you had a hug or any sort of intimacy you enjoyed.

Reality breaks and you remember now more clearly, what you’ve done. How disturbed Uhtred and his men must be. They must think you’re the devil himself. Evil reincarnated.

You wonder why he holds you so close. So you can’t escape? Are they planing to turn you in? To take you somewhere worse than their care?

Your already laboured breathing gets impossibly harder to push out.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper pathetically. Trying to steady your panic.

“For what little witch?” Uhtred’s tone does not sound angry. In fact, this is the calmest you’ve heard him be.

You focus on the sounds and smells around you. Trying to ground yourself. You focus on the gentle sway from the horse, the cold on your face and Uhtred being so close. It creates a dream like calm. One that helps you to try and speak without crying.

“For killing that man.” Your eyes are focused on the trees as they go by.

“He planned to do the same to Osferth.” He points out.

Yet still you feel uneasy, guilty even. For exposing your dark powers to them. Making your relationships with them more strained, if not broken.

“I’m sorry I killed him the way I did.” You murmur. Not quite sure he’d even heard you.

Uhtred sighs, not sure what to say to you. While he’s starting to realise how powerful you truly are, he sees that you are no Skade. The thoughts leave him feeling conflicted.

“Try to sleep witch. We will speak later.” His words do little to reassure you from your doubts. Regardless you try to fall back to sleep.

Your exhaustion is apparent once again, when your body slips quickly into a limp state. Your eyes closing. Your nose filled with Uhtred’s scent. And finally you go back to sleep.

At some point in your sleep your mind becomes awakened with colour.

A bustling market filled with people becomes clearer. You see Uhtred beside you. A rope wound around your wrist is attached to his own. Tethering you to him so you can’t run away.

The picture turns to an alleyway off to the side of the market. Down it you see a figure adorned in a dark blue cloak. The cloak is familiar. It’s not until the hood is pulled down that you see her. Astrid. The sight is enough to fill your heart with joy. It’s a welcomed difference from the previous dread and panic you felt.

The next time you wake the sky is grey. Not with night, but with a muggy morning gloom. A camp has been made around you but it’s deserted. The fire put out. Small bowls and other items lay around it.

You take a deep breath in as you try to sit up. Your side aches. The feeling making you wince. You are glad no one is around. You can’t think of any convincing lies for your injuries.

The cloak is still wrapped around you from yesterday. You find your ankle tied once more to the floor. The sight making you sigh.

On the other side of camp, out from the trees Osferth emerges. He sees you awake and gives you a weak smile. He walks over to the camp, packing away the bowls and other items on to the four various horses.

Finally he comes over to you, hesitant. He crouched in front of you. Looking deep into your eyes. As if searching for something.

Even though he doesn’t consider himself a monk anymore, Osferth still feels he is a holy man in his soul. His previous life has set expectations for how sin and evil will appear to him.

Before he talks to you he looks in your eyes. Searching for any indication you are evil.

He sees a frightened girl, eyes wide. Trying to appear braver than she is. He sees a girl who saved him, despite their poor treatment of her.

“Thank you for saving me.” You nod. Voice weak. Unsure what to say to him.

He pulls out a flask, offering it to you. Without appearing too eager you take the flask. Pulling at the top and taking a large swallow. You don’t care what the liquid inside is. Water, ale, whisky. It could be poison for all you know. As long as your spit stops tearing your throat at every swallow, you’ll die happy.

Thankfully it’s just water. You’re tempted to joke about it being holy water, but feel that with Osferth it may be true.

With the flagon half empty you hand it back to him.

“Thank you.” The water had done wonders for your throat. Words now coming out smoother than before.

He tries to reciprocate your smile and does so poorly. It’s clear he still, like the others, has his reservations about being near you.

Soon after Finan and Sihtric return. Regarding you with impartial gazes, not saying anything. They pack up any items left around the camp before preparing to saddle up.

You don’t notice when Uhtred comes beside you to untie your ankle. Instead lost in thoughts of Astrid and seeing her again.

“Witch, you ride with me.” Is all he says before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. The action jostling your sore body. Your bite your lip to hide your moan.

He places you on his horse and climbs behind you. Taking the reigns and setting off. Once again in front with Finan.

You doubt a piece of rope could be put between you and Uhtred with how close you are. Your ass directly in front of his crotch. The rock of the horse bumping you gently together. The feeling of it making you blush.

It would be a long ride to town. At least you know you would reunite with Astrid.

[illtakeyoutowonderland]

The One (Part 9)

The one were she fought

Sihtric x Reader

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

Snow had set and the cold got worse and worse as they waited at the clearing. Hours passed and nothing had happened. They were all in their armour, so that meant no extra clothes. Meaning, no coats or furs that could prevent their movements in battle. Which Y/N knew it totally made sense, but right now she wished she had her cloak with her, or even a blanket.

"Thought you enjoyed the cold, Lady" Sihtric said referring to her conversation with Edward and she looked at him with surprise as she thought no one had heard them. His expression was plain, showing no emotion at all but hold her stare longer than needed, breaking eye contact only when Uhtred spoke to them

"You should hide" He said to her "You should go to the trees and hide"

"I am not going there alone until I know Haesten is coming here" She said "I'm not risking getting killed by some spy while you all wait here"

Uhtred didn't fought her on this. She was right "Fine. But once the men show you run and you do not come out until one of us finds you, got it?" She nodded as she promised him

"If they show up" Finan said, clearly tired of waiting

A few more hours passed and she sat next to Osferth, not having anything to do more than wait

"It's been half a day" Uhtred sighed 

"Maybe he is scared of the priest" Finan joked and Osferth smiled

"We leave!" Uhtred ordered and everyone started gathering their weapons and walking away

Y/N stood up and as she cleaned some snow away from her pants Osferth grabbed her arm

"Lord" He said, looking at the horizon and then Y/N saw it too "Lord!" "Uhtred!" They both screamed at the same time as they saw Haesten and a huge army coming at them

"Run!" Said Uhtred as they all started running, trying to put as much distance with Haesten as they could "Y/N hide!" But Haesten's men were faster than them

"Surround them. Give them on escape!" Haesten ordered. Skade on a horse next to him "And then we'll kill every last one of the bastards!"

Uhtred's men formed a circle, trying to defend themselves from every corner only to Osferth and Y/N to get trapped in the middle of this.

"Here" Sihtric put a knife in Y/N's hand "Do you know how to use it?"

"Do I look like I know how to use this?" I mean, she knew the basics, pointed end forwards, but she never fought for her life with a knife. 

"Get me the woman alive!" Haesten said and Y/N's blood froze

"I got you, Lady" Said Osferth but none of them look hopefull

"We hold!" Uhtred ordered "We give them no ground"

"We've got no ground to give, Lord" Y/N didn't know how Finan could joke in these moment but somehow find it reassuring that they were not losing their minds as she was

"You will die on your knees!" Haesten said and with that the men attacked

The circle of men hold for a few seconds, until some of Haesten men started to get inside. Uhtred's men were faster and killed them but Y/N knew the would no hold for much longer. And she only had a knife.

The circle broke and Sihtric fell. Y/N run to his side, grabbing his hand and helping him get up on his feet. Osferth covering them with the shield. She saw how blood covered his face "You should hide, Lady" He said to her as he stabbed a man that tried to grab her

Another man run to them but they were quick to move before they got hid. Osferth was not so lucky. The man fall on top of him and hit him with his shield so hard Osferth suddenly stopped moving "Osferth!" Y/N tried to reach his friend but Sihtric stopped her

"Lady!" He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her aside covering from other man but all she could see was her friend lying on the ground not moving "Y/N!" Sihtric called as he grabbed her face with both his hands "Hide. I will find you" He promised and she run

"Turn the field red with Saxon blood and flesh!" Skade screamed giving the men more courage 

Y/N tried to run as fast as she could, dodging the men that tried to grab her but only made to the first line of trees before her luck run out "There she is!" She heard a man say to  his friends. She made the mistake to look back and saw they were at least ten men following her. "Grab her!"

She ran, even when she heard that Edward's army had arrived to the battle and how almost every men decided to go back and figh, she kept running. Knife in hand. Only when she couldn't breath anymore and she stopped hearing footseps behind her, she stopped and looked back. She walked to a near tree and stand against it, tryin to catch her breath when a hand covered her mouth and pulled her away from the tree. "You thought you could hide?" The man said "My lord is waiting for you"

She tried to scream and fought hard to get away from him, dropping her knife in the process. Y/N somehow got to make the man fall, her on top, and that gave her the advantage to move away from him. But not before he grabbed her leg and dragged her to him once again. She fought as hard as she could, but he was stronger. His own knife got to her arm and she could feel the burn of the cut he had unintentionaly made "Stop moving, you bitch" He said as he slapped her across her face and she froze. She remain unmoving for a few seconds while he looked for something to tie her up with. She saw a knife hanging from his belt and before she realized what she was doing, she took it and stabbed him on the leg. She pushed him aside with the strength of adrenaline as he cursed her, and she got up and run to her knife. 

The man got her by her ankle, making her fall face foward on the ground and dragged her to him once more. But not before she could grab her knife. She turned around and stabbed him right on the neck. The man tried to get her knife out but it was too late for him. His blood dripping on her body covering all her clothes, until he finally dropped next to her, not breathing.

She reamined there looking at the sky, not daring to look around as she tried heard the battle. She even stayed there on the ground once the battle had finished and a few minutes longer than that. Until she remembered. Osferth. She got up and took the knife from the man's throat, not feeling a thing as she did so. She walked numbed towards the clearing not really paying attention to her surroundings until she heard a voice she knew

"Y/N!" It was Sihtric and he was close. She walked towards the sound of his voice until he saw her "Y/N!" He run to her with a worry expresion. He had found her. She said nothing as he studied her "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine" She wasn't "Where is Osferth?" She asked

"The blood..."

"It is not mine" She explained and some tears filled her eyes. He seemed to understand and didn't pushed her to say more "Osferth?"

"He is alive" He said and she felt like she could breath again. "Come" He grabbed her by the hand and guide her to her friend

He walked her to a tent where Uhtred stood, in front of a made up bed where Osferth layed, Finan kneeling next to him "Did you see me fighting, Lord?"

"I did" Uhtred said to him "It was a sight to behold"

"Osferth?" Y/N said softly as saw his friend "Oh God, I thought you were dead" She said kneeling next to him on the other side of the bed 

"Sorry to dissapoint" He tried to joke but as soon as he spoke he started coughing hard

"You could never" She said as she grabbed his hand and smiled at him

"I feel cold"

"Because it is winter you fool" Finan mocked him

"You were a warrior today, Osferth"

"Am I to die, Lord?" Osferth said not looking at anyone "I do not fear it"

"I forbid it" Uhtred ordered 

"You dare die, baby monk, and I'll kill you myself" Finan said and Y/N smiled a little agreeing with the irish man "What happened to you?" He asked her noticing the blood on her

"Nothing, I'm fine" She dismissed his question 

"You have blood all over you..." Osferth noticed too

"You are bleeding" Uhtred said

"I'm not. It's not mine" She explained to a very worried Osferth "I'm okay"

"Your arm" Finan said pointing to her left arm

"Just a scratch"

"Doesn't look like a scratch" Uhtred said and she looked at her arm. Apparently it was deeper than she thought and she was, in fact, bleeding "We will return to Aethelflaed's state. You will recover there" He said to both Osferth and Y/N

"What of Skade?" Sihtric asked, speaking for the first time since he found her in the forest

"She's been taken by Haesten" Uhtred explained and Y/N looked over at them

"Then nothing has changed. We remain cursed still"

"I am cursed" Uhtred said rolling his eyes

"It touches us all, Lord" Sihtric said looking over to Y/N who decided she was not strong enought to hold his stare this time and looked away "It continues" 

Once she was convinced Osferth will live she got dragged by Finan to clean her wound a few tents away "Seems like you would live, too" He said to her but she did not laughed this time

"Lady Y/N" Edward's voice brought her back from her thoughts. He was walking towards her with the king to his side, Steapa on the other "What happened?" He asked once he saw all the blood on her clothes. She was surely scaring people at this point

"It's not mine" She said softly looking away from him 

"She is fine, just a scratch, Lord" Finan added as he finish covering her arm with some bandage he found

"I didn't know you could fight, Lady Y/N" Alfred honestly said

"Neither did I" She said looking at him, not caring for titles this time. He looked at her and something in his face changed. For a second he was no longer a king but a father and he gave her a meaningfull look. He walked closer to her and sat next to her and to everyone's surprise he took her hand in his

"You did well" He said as he wipped away a tear from her cheek. She couldn't explain how this connection had happened, or why it had happened so fast. Maybe she reminded him of Aethelflaed, she did not know. But she did know she missed her own father deeply, so she accepted the moment and did not questioned it. They both nodded at each other in understanding before he got up and left with Steapa

"I know I said I wished to see you again.." Edward broke the silence

"But a battlefield was not what you thought?" She tried to joke and he smiled. Finan looked between them with a frown on his face

"It was not" Edward said softly "I'm glad to see you are ok, Lady. Maybe next time will be a merrier scene"

"Maybe" She smiled politely at him and he bid his goodbyes to her and Finan

"You are playing a dangerous game, Lady" Finan commented once Edward was far enough

"I'm not playing anything" She stated as she got up and started walking to Osferth's tent. She needed some peace at the moment, so she let the rest of the men deal with the situation at hand and she went to take care of her friend

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[witchezandwonderz]

In the Heart of the Blood Month...

Aethelstan x reader

Quick A/N- If you enjoy my writing please could you like or reblog- this will help me find new accounts and mutuals to follow and enjoy others work. Thank you <3

The Blood Month had just begun, but our last argument still echoed between us, sharper than any silence. Will he, for just once, be able to see that this grudge he holds is pure and utter ridiculousness? This thought definitely weighs heavy on his mind too. We are both the absolute definition of stubbornness, and believe me, other times have been worse.

Sitting here, by this freezing cold lake, all I have is time to think and think and think again. Do I just get up now, march in there and demand that we reconcile? I could, I could definitely do that- but- that would mean dragging myself up from the dirt, walking into a room of men and admitting defeat. Absolutely not. Not my style.

Aethelstan feels as though he is at home, here, in Rumcofa. I do not. I suppose that I would not feel at home anywhere on this strange planet. I have never really had one of those. I was found, as a child, by a seer named Skade. Uhtred has never divulged the entire story to me but what I do know, is that I was passed from Saxon to Dane as though I was a possession. I do not remember much of this, nor do I remember Skade. I have, however, been told tales and stories about her bizarre and most extreme ways. I ended up with Uhtred and his band of merry men, whom I have grown to love, including Aethelstan, whom I love in a different way completely.

I barely think about my childhood and past, not due to an overload of emotion, but simply because if I do not think about such events then they refuse to be real.

A raspy voice brought my attention back to reality, where my backside was beginning to turn numb due to the amount of time I have been fixed into the frosty ground.

"Y/N, it is nearly time, why are you sulking here you little weirdo" Finan called breathlessly in an attempt to approach me quickly, while trying to stop his ale from spilling out completely. I kept my gaze in front of me, refusing to look away as I replied quietly "now you know that I am one of the tallest girls here, therefore meaning, I am not little" I rolled my eyes as I concluded my sentence. Finan collapsed next to me, in turn, causing me to move out of his way and turn my head to scowl at him. I was met by a bright, glassy eyed, smiley, drunk man who laughed and retorted "oh shut up will ya, you're missing all the fun Y/N, Aethelstan has had too much ale and is telling everyone the story about how you met" My head snapped up at this as Finan and I both stated the word "again?"- well, mine was a question, his was a matter of fact. Finan laughed, "well, you know how much he loves you".

"Yeah, he loves me so much that he cannot even approach me to ensure that I am well and instead would rather show off to a room of men" Finan's smile dropped at my words; he opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted- "AND also, why on earth does he think that getting drunk before his first hunt is a good idea-" by the end of my sentence, I began to unstick my backside from the dirt. As I stood up, I finished my words "what a fool". Before I was able to tear away, I felt a firm grip on my wrist "let go of me" I stated, looking down. Finan laughed, "Y/N, You had a weird fight over something minor, go and sort things out" He stated, his laughter reducing with each word. Me? Me sort it out? He must be humouring me.

"Finan, you do know why we had a 'weird fight'? Do you not? What did he tell you? Because from my point of view, I was practising with Cynlaef, minding my own business and then suddenly, Aethelstan starts throwing his weight about and screaming at both of us!"

"I know what happened, Y/N, you need to understand that for a man, seeing your woman practice fighting with another man, it does not feel, you know, great" Finan explained.

I concluded my conversation and shuffled my way to where the others were. Drinking, laughing, dancing and playing around- everyone is extremely excited about blood month, and believe me, no one is hiding it. It is rare to have something to look forward too these days.

It is not long before my eyes land on my Aethelstan's beautiful curly locks. It honestly does not matter how much him and I argue, I will always appreciate how unbelievably handsome he is. I honestly think that no matter how old and independent I grow, he will never fail to make me weak. It is a blessing and a curse, all at once.

I stood, briefly, while taking in the scenery, and breathing in the crisp air. A debate continued within my mind, part of me wanted to go up to him immediately and kiss him, the other part of me wanted to go up to him immediately and punch him. Unfortunately, before I had a chance to do either of those things a loud, familiar voice echoed through the air

"Aethelstan! Why have you left your post?" Uhtred announced, in turn earning the attention of everybody who gathered. Aethelstan's smile dropped, leaving him looking like a mood riddled teenager, which made me smirk, as he replied "It's good luck for blood month, Uhtred".

The conversation between them continued, and as it did, I found myself attempting to drift into the background as much as possible. Aethelstan may enjoy being cheered on by every soul in our presence but I, do not. I want to quietly, and without a fuss, go, fight, kill a beast and then brag about it when it is all done.

"Where is Y/N?" I heard Aethelstan ask, his voice getting louder and louder with each word. Everyone's eyes somehow found me, as I squatted down next to a nearby tree with a cup of ale in my hand. I rolled my eyes while standing up "I am here". I walked towards the men, Uhtred's happy demeanour forced a smile upon my face as he screamed "now, are YOU ready?". I laughed at this "am I ready? What do you think?". The men laughed and cheered, continuing with their small conversations- I expected this to be a moment where Aethelstan would approach me, but, to my surprise, he did not. He stood, pretending to be looking at something in the distance, not realising that I could see that his eyes were fixed upon me. I took a breath. Fine. I will swallow my pride.

I approached him, and looked up at him as I spoke, "my love, I-" my words were cut short,

"Y/N, I love you, but not now, we will speak after" his words were blunt and monotone. He kissed my forehead and with that, he walked away.

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

An hour passed, we all separated and made our own ways into the woods. I crept within the dark trees, attempting to make no noise. Admittedly, a very hard task when having an animal head sewn to your cloak- not the easiest endeavour. Things like this go very quickly, you see, you have to be focused constantly and consistently. I followed the squeals and crunches but could not locate the stupid beast for the life of me.

I did, however, hear a rustle a few metres away. I crept towards it, trying to be mindful of my surroundings, but, again, very difficult with an animal sewed to my head. With that, I pulled the head off, mumbling "screw it" to myself. Once removed, I could finally see within my peripheral vision once again. I heard the rustle again, looking left through the cracks in the trees, there he was. I chuckled and made it my next mission to frighten him. Will it make the argument worse? Yes. Will I do it anyway? Yes.

"Whose men are you?" Fear laced within his voice. Were there others? I crept closer, gaining a better view, where to my horror, I saw the love of my life surrounded by three men. Ugly fuckers they were too.

Fuck sake

Without a second thought, I leapt over the river that divided us to join. All four men looked at me, Aethelstan gasped in surprise while the other men started laughing. Laughing.

I hate most men, and I absolutely, will not be a joke to them.

I leapt forward once more, but this time, I swung my sword at one of the men, he dodged it. I ran behind him and swiped my pocket knife at his legs, slicing them both in a straight line. The man yelped in pain but did not back down. For a brief moment, I looked over and saw Aethelstan in a similar situation to myself, while a man I recognised watched on, somewhat amused by the events.

We continued for a little while longer, until I finally managed to get him onto the cold floor and slit his throat. When securing that he was dead, I jumped up to see, again, Aethelstan in a similar situation. He lunged towards me, engulfing me in a warm hug, blood and mud filling the small distance between us.

"Y/N, you should not have joined, you could have been killed" His voice stern, but his eyes soft.

"If I had not have come here, you may have been killed and that, my love, would have caused a war unlike any battle you have seen" I said softly.

"I am sorry, I should not have screamed at you in such a way" he said, I pulled away and looked up at him.

"Why were you so hurt?" He shrugged at my question , "I don't know, I just do not like seeing anyone other than Uhtred train you. Well and myself of course" He explained and then began to laugh as he said "it does sound quite idiotic when I speak it out loud though". I smiled as he laughed "It is okay, you are protective, I like it" I reasoned. Aethelstan's laugh continued as he said "clearly you are too" and pointed towards the two corpses on the floor.

Soon, the others joined us, and with that, Aethelstan bragged, with pride about what had happened.

[bouncehousedemons]

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

Osferth

Cross to Bear

Deathless Death

Into My Arms

Skade

Skade x reader

Period sex with Skade

Domme Skade

Sigtryggr

Little Warrior