#Osferth angst

[queers-gambit]

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Crawl Home to Her

Pairing: Osferth x f!reader Warnings: Religious guilt. Canon-typical violence. Mild angst. Loss of virginity. Smut. Word count: ~3.5k

Summary: Part two of Deathless Death. Osferth has a crisis of conscience and faith, however, an attack on their party by the Danes makes him realise what's at stake. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @valeskafics. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Osferth rouses slowly into wakefulness, blinking his eyes open. For a moment, his mind is blissfully silent, focusing only on the canopy of green leaves above and the chirping of the birds in the woodland that surrounds him and his travel companions.

That is until the memory of the previous evening floods back to him; the taste of her upon his tongue, her cries of pleasure that had echoed through the trees and up into the night sky. He can still feel the smoothness of her thighs beneath his fingertips, the way the softness of her flesh had yielded beneath his hands as she’d hovered above his face while he’d devoured her like a man starved.

His throat tightens at the thought, his cock stirring in his breeches. He turns on his bed roll to face her, expecting to see her peacefully sleeping next to him, just as she usually is, her features a vision of angelic beauty. However, the space beside him lays empty and his brow furrows in concern as he props himself up on his elbow to look around for her.

He spots her. She kneels at a fallen log, her hands clasped in prayer against it. The early morning sunlight filters through the branches casting the top of her head in golden light. She is the picture of innocence, truly angelic, and guilt and shame wash over Osferth in thick, hot waves. He would have sullied her upon the filthy forest floor, if the others had not come back and interrupted them. Worse still, she would have allowed him to. This pure, devout, impressionable girl had been a vessel for his lust. Seeing her as she is now, Osferth vows to keep his distance; he must do better by her, despite his yearning for her.

He is startled momentarily when she opens her eyes and looks directly at him, clearly having sensed his gaze upon her. Her smile is warm, making her eyes soften with fondness as she looks at him.

“You’re awake,” she says, her voice gentle. Osferth will never have enough of that dulcet sound, it is sweeter than honeyed wine. “Will you join me?”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak and makes his way over to her, kneeling on the opposite side of the log. It’s a deliberate choice, a need to place a physical barrier between the two of them so that he is not tempted to reach out for her, to feel her lips upon his once more.

If she is offended by his decision, she does not show it, lowering her head once more and closing her eyes. Osferth wonders what she prays for. Had she awoken this morning filled with regret for what they’d done and is now praying for God to cleanse her of her misdeeds?

Pressing his own hands together, he closes his eyes and bows his head.

Please, Lord, give me the strength to resist her. Do not allow me to sully her innocence with my sinful behaviour any more than I already have. Forgive her for transgressions, for she does not understand fully what she has done, and was led astray by my lust.

“First one awake’s meant to light the fire,” he hears Finan grumble sleepily in annoyance from a few feet away.

He sighs, standing and walking towards the pit that had been dug the day before. “Apologies, Finan, I’ll do it now.”

The rest of the morning passes peacefully. Uhtred’s talk of their travel plans serves as a welcome distraction, though he is unable to stop himself from glancing over at her. She looks at him with such adoration that it makes his heart squeeze. He is not worthy of basking in the affection of her gaze, yet he craves it all the same.

When it comes time to move on, she leans back against his chest as they ride, and it takes everything he has not to wrap his arms around her waist. His knuckles turn white from the intensity with which he keeps a hold of his horse’s reins, knowing that if he lets go his hands will be upon her in an instant.

She tucks herself against his chest as they bed down again that night and he is glad to wrap his arms loosely around her, keeping her close. He reasons he is simply keeping her warm, nothing more, until she looks up at him doe-eyed and expectant.

“Will you kiss me again?” She whispers into the darkness and he feels a pit open in his stomach.

“Not tonight, my lady”, he tells her quietly, “get some rest.”

He hates telling her no. The way her face crumples in disappointed sadness feels like a dagger to his chest, but it is for her own good. A kiss would lead to more and he cannot do that to her. He must control himself for the both of them.

She nuzzles into him, closing her eyes and he allows himself a moment to simply let his hands stroke through the silken strands of her hair, soft as angel’s wings.

He is thankful that the constant presence of Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric during the day prevents her from asking about the night he had tasted her. He can see it in her face each time she looks at him, longing in her eyes and questions on the tip of her tongue, but she’d never dare speak of it in company, so he always ensures they are never alone.

Come nightfall she clutches against his robes as they lay together, and he savours her closeness, her warmth, her scent, pretending his actions are a matter of duty that he derives no pleasure from.

She catches him off guard a few mornings later, excitement in her eyes as she approaches him.

“There is a river close by. I’d like to bathe. Will you join me?”

Osferth feels himself flush scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears. The thought rivulets of water running down her skin, tracing the curves of her body, has him swallowing thickly in order to maintain his composure. But he cannot give in.

He picks up his sword, fastening it to his belt. “I will keep watch to ensure you are safe, my lady.”

Her gaze lowers, he can see he has disappointed her yet again and guilt gnaws at him. He detests that doing the right thing makes her so sad.

She turns and walks off in the direction of the riverbank, and he dutifully follows her. He has to physically force himself to turn away when she begins to undress. Never having seen her fully bare before, he is desperate to look, but knows he will not be able to control himself if he does.

In his peripheral vision he sees her form illuminated by sunlight as she steps from the bank and into the water. Her movements are slow, deliberate, and he glances quickly at her, seeing how her hands move through the water, over her hair and down her body. 

Looking quickly away, he wonders how someone so angelic can be such a temptress. He wants to protect her virtue, yet ravage her at the same time, and it seems she is attempting to lure the latter half of him out to play. She does not know the full weight of what she is asking, however, and Osferth could not live with himself if he laid with her, only for her to regret it.

He keeps his focus on the surrounding woodland, to make sure no one approaches or sees her as she is bathing. He does not look upon her again until she returns to him, dressed once more, her hair damp from the river.

She looks up at him with wide, imploring eyes and Osferth feels panic flutter in his chest. They are alone. They are alone, and she is going to ask him about what happened between them and he will not know what to tell her. What could he possibly say? That he is a sinner? That he cannot control himself? That he swore to protect her and has taken advantage of her instead?

“Did I do something wrong?” She asks sadly.

The question hits him like a punch to the gut. How could she assume she is to blame for anything?

He opens his mouth to reply, but she beats him to it. “Was it not good…the other night? Have you decided you don’t want me after all?”

Her tone is filled with insecure hurt and Osferth feels as though he wants to cry. He had never meant to make her feel unwanted. If only she knew that she is everything he has ever wanted and everything he does not deserve simultaneously.

“Osferth?” Sihtric’s voice echoing through the trees interrupts them, as the crackle of branches heralds his approaching footsteps.

He turns to face the direction he is coming from, brows rising in concern as he sees the hardened look upon Sihtric’s face. This is serious.

“Get ready to go,” he tells them both. “We are being tracked by Harald’s men.”

Without thinking, Osferth grabs her hand, rushing her back to camp. They hurriedly pack away their belongings, kicking out the fire, before mounting up and moving on at speed.

She rests wordlessly against his chest, and he knows they will eventually need to continue their conversation from earlier, but right now his only focus is on keeping her safe. If he cannot do that then he has failed in his entire reason for taking her with him from Alton in the first place.

Their horses are brought to an abrupt halt, rearing up slightly when Danes ambush them in a clearing, surrounding them. Bile rises in Osferth’s throat, icy fingers of fear wrapping around his heart - not for himself, but for what may happen to her.

As Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric dismount, withdrawing their weapons, he leans forward whispering quickly to her. “Run. Run away and don’t look back. I will find you after.”

He feels her trembling like a leaf, and wishes he could do more to comfort her, but in this moment the best source of comfort is to protect her and, so as she flees, he jumps down from his horse and unsheathes his own weapon.

Osferth is not a masterful warrior, but travelling with Uhtred has sharpened his skills and he fights with more confidence than terror with each passing day. 

Allowing pure instinct and adrenaline ro guide his movements, he drives forward, slashing with his blade, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and the wet, dull sounds of steel biting into flesh.

A sharp sting against his temple happens so quickly that he barely registers he is cut, until he feels the warm trickle of blood in his eye. He blinks it away in time to see Uhtred run through the Dane responsible for causing the injury.

He is panting, sweaty, sight in one eye reddened by ichor by the time they have cut down Harald’s men. Those not killed have fled, but any solace he feels is short lived as dread and regret spur him into action, he runs through the woods in search of her.

Stupid fool.

If he’d have known better, he’d have taken her and rode away, not left her to fend for herself. What if some of Harald’s men have come after her? What if she’s dead?

As Osferth races through the trees he can no longer tell if the warmth upon his cheeks is blood or tears, he simply knows he has to find her.

His heart soars, relief and exhilaration flooding through him when he spots her cowering in a thicket, fresh tears pricking his eyes.

She is safe.

He calls out to her and she raises her head, her eyes wide with fright, though she visibly relaxes when she sees him, stepping out from her hiding place.

His jaw clenches in anger when he sees the slash in the sleeve of her dress, a long, angry looking red gash adorns the flesh of her forearm.

“Did they hurt you?” He asks, unable to mask the worry in his voice.

She shakes her head. “I caught myself on a low hanging branch when I ran away. It is my own clumsiness that is at fault, no one else.”

Reaching up, her fingers brush over the cut to his temple. “You are hurt…”

Osferth winces, though does his best to sound brave in spite of the pain. “It’s only a scratch. The fact that you are safe is all that matters to me.”

They stare at each other unblinking for a moment, her thumb tenderly wipes away the tears that have tracked down his cheeks. 

If they are not meant to be together then why would God deliver her safely back to him? They both could have died today and all he wants to do is kiss her.

Before he can second guess himself, he leans in, pressing his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss as he feels her return the gesture, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close.

She is alive, they both are, and he has never felt more so than in this moment.

That night, they do not sleep upon the forest floor. Uhtred finds them lodgings at a village alehouse, stating they have all suffered enough for one day and deserve the comfort of a decent night’s rest.

Retreating upstairs, bellies filled with ale and stew, Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric pile into one room, leaving Osferth and her to the other. It is humble, simply furnished, with a small double bed.

Osferth’s pulse races, keeping his back to her as he removes the light leather armour from his wrists and chest, leaving himself in just his robes. They have never spent the night alone together like this before. What would she be expecting of him?

He lips part involuntarily as he turns back to see her dressed only in her cotton shift. She has removed her dress, and tended to the cut upon her arm. She is beautiful, so beautiful, and he feels himself redden with embarrassment as she looks up and smiles, clearly having caught him staring.

She squeezes water from a cloth into a basin, before turning back to him. “Here, let me,” she says, gesturing to the wound on his temple.

Osferth approaches her slowly, his breathing unsteady. He hisses lightly at the sting of it as she gently presses the dampened cloth to his injury.

“Forgive me,” she whispers, lightening her touch, and his chest tightens.

As if my forgiveness is something you would ever need to seek.

She dabs at his face, placing the cloth into the bowl several more times as she goes, wringing it out, until she is satisfied he is clean.

Dropping the cloth back into the bowl, she places her hands against his face. She regards him with such tenderness that he has to close his eyes, unable to stand the way it makes it feel as though his heart will burst out of his chest.

Her fingertips move lightly over the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, over his lips, chin and jaw. If this is what it feels like to be worshiped then the satisfaction God must experience is beyond gratification.

He gasps as he feels her lips press eagerly his once more and moves his mouth hungrily against hers, tangling his fingers into her hair and walking her back towards the bed.

Pushing her back, he hovers over his, his lips trailing a path down her neck to her collarbones, before kissing the rest of her body through her shift. Eagerly, he pushes the cotton above her hips, finding her wet and wanting, eager to be tasted again.

Osferth’s gaze flickers back up to her face. Her eyes are glossy and darkened by desire, her lips swollen with kisses and parted as she breathes heavily through them.

If he had died today, he is certain the grave he ended up in would not be enough to hold him back from crawling back to her, if only to see her like this. But in that same moment, he remembers the men he has killed today, his hands sullied by blood, lives ended by his hand.

He is unfit to touch her. He cannot besmirch her virtue with his uncleanliness.

He bows his head, exhaling sadly. “I–I cannot go any further, my lady,” he whispers, “I would not dirty you with hands that are not worthy of you.”

She props herself up on her elbows. “And what about what I want? It is my virtue to give away, don’t I get to decide who takes it?”

“You don’t know what you’re asking, you cannot give me this,” he argues, eyebrows drawn together in a pleading expression.

“I know perfectly well what it is that I want,” she replies, her tone defiant.

She shifts on the bed, pushing him onto his back, and he lets her. All his fight has left him, so he simply lays there, watching her with curiosity as she sits astride him.

Carefully, her hands pull at his clothes, stripping him of his robe, trousers and breeches. He quietly allows her to do so, lifting his body as needed to aid her task until he lays utterly naked before him.

Osferth has never been nude in front of anyone before. He had anticipated feeling shame and embarrassment, wanting to curl in on himself to hide from her. However, her gaze is filled with such warmth and innocence, she looks upon him in wonder, the way that people gaze at sunsets and meadows of wildflowers. It makes pride swell within his chest to be looked upon as though he is worthy.

Her lips brush gently against his, and as quickly as he leans up to kiss her back, she is moving away. Her mouth trails a path down his neck, across his chest and over his abdomen, before she allows her fingertips to take the same journey. He shivers, feeling his manhood pulsate under her attention.

He sucks in a breath when he feels her hand wrap around his cock, testing the weight and feel of it in her palm, eyeing it reverently, before she lets go and comes to lay beside him.

She pulls her shift over her head, discarding it upon the floor, and his eyes widen, drinking in the sight of her. Not even the most diligent monks in his days at the monastery could illuminate visions as lovely as she is.

“I do not know what I am doing. I’ve never done this before, but I want to. Osferth, please.”

Her quiet plea is all he needs to hear. He turns her onto her back, hovering over her and kisses her deeply. A rumble of appreciation vibrates through him as he feels her instinctively part her thighs.

Pulling away, he grasps the base of himself, guiding his tip to her waiting entrance.

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes locking with hers.

“I have never wanted anything more. Please.”

Her words make his stones ache and he presses forwards, jaw going slack at the feeling of how tight she is as his length forces apart her walls.

She whines quietly at the intrusion, though as he studies her face he is met with desire rather than the discomfort that he had anticipated. It excites him to know that she wants him, though he fears he would not be able to stop now even if he wanted to.

If lying with other women has been the closest he has come to seeing the face of God before, then in this moment he has truly died and gone to heaven.

His thrusts into her are slow and soft, his lips linger against hers, exchanging sticky kisses and laboured breaths. As his passage eases, his movements become slightly harder and faster, groaning as she grows wetter, clenching around him as the wooden bed frame creaks with their efforts.

This is his forbidden fruit. He has tasted her and now there is no going back. He loses himself in the sensation of her, his grip on her tight as she writhes beneath him, the sounds she makes are sweeter than any music.

Noticing her tensing when his thrusts are shallower, he repeats the motion in earnest until suddenly she is crying out, pulsating around him, pulling him quickly towards release. He pulls out, stroking himself to completion, watching the way his spend paints her bare flesh in pearlescent ropes.

Breathlessly he falls back against the mattress, pulling her to him, wanting her close. She is pliable, eager, and snuggles against him, her head upon his chest.

He looks down at her through hooded eyes and she smiles back up at him, her gaze filled with warm affection.

“I love you,” she whispers.

The words stick in his throat. They are not enough to convey the depth of his feelings for her. They are just words, much like heaven and hell, and they are worthless. He will never want for anything, as long as he has her.

So, he simply kisses her, hoping that it is enough for her to understand just how precious she is to him.

[the-common-cowgirl]

Am I writing The Lost Children part 5 now? Yes. Is it going to contain the one bed trope? Yes.

Am I being self indulgent and writing my own horse into this chapter? Also yes.

[yovrstruly00]

tainted faces

What if Lucerys Velaryon was born a girl? AND that Aemond Targaryen is head over heels for her instead!

tainted faces | part two

tainted faces | part three

tainted faces | part four

trigger warning: cursing, knives, injuries, Aegon smashing Lyssaera's head on the table, incest (uncle x niece),,

genre: angst?? idk, possible enemies to lovers,,

Lyssaera Velaryon, Aemond fumes at the sight of her. The one who slashed his face with a blade and took his eye. The one who made him look like this, the one who made him hideous to look at. How can someone so beautiful be the source of all his pain?

Aemond scans her carefully during supper, as she grins and smirks when a roasted pig is placed before him. He slams his fist on the table and takes his goblet, drawing the attention of everyone in the dining hall. He raises his goblet, starting a toast.

"A final tribute," he starts. "To the health of my nephews and niece, Jace, Lyssaera, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, beautiful, wise..." he pauses as he purses his lip.

"strong," he continued, mockery behind his voice.

"Aemond" the queen calls out to him.

"Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong-" he said, but was cut off by Jacaerys.

"I dare you say that again." Jacaerys taunted.

"Why? It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?" The whole table gasped when Jacaerys took his fist to Aemond's face. Lyssaera stood up, but Aegon crashed her head on the table, making Alicent shout at him.

"Enough!" Alicent shouts. Aemond chuckled as the guards restrained Jacaerys. "Why would you say such a thing in front of these people?" Alicent rushed to Aemond. "I was nearly expressing how proud I am of my family mother, but it seems my nephew and niece aren't quite as proud of theirs." Aemond said.

"You fucking cunt! Let go of me!" Lyssaera shouts at Aegon, who is still holding her down. Aegon scoffs and releases Lyssaera. Once Aegon released his hold on her, she slapped Aemond on the face.

"Lyssaera!" Daemon shouted, making his way to his stepdaughter. Lyssaera made a mistake looking back at him. Aemond took his blade from the knife holster attached to the belt on his waist as held her neck, choking her.

"Aemond let her go!" Alicent and Rhaenyra shouted. Aemond did not hesitate swiftly slicing Lyssaera's cheek, making her scream in pain. Aemond was pulled away by his grandfather, just as Lyssaera was caught by Daemon. Lyssaera's screams filled the whole dining hall. Blood was running down her neck, arms, and to her dress. Rhaenyra and Jacaerys rushed towards Lyssaera as she was crying in pain. The salt in her tears touched her sliced skin. Daemon stood in front of his family and Aemond.

"Painful isn't it? This seems all too familiar, don't you agree? Look at yourself, we are now both terrifying to look at. Scarred for a lifetime. No men or lords will wed you in that condition. No man will wed a woman like you, a woman with a hideous scar on her face." Aemond hissed, anger evident in his voice. He didn't care about the angry eyes on him. At the moment, all he cared about was her. The way she was looking at him. The hatred and pain in her eyes. Aemond looked at the sliced skin, the slice running from the upper point of her cheek to her upper lip, it was deep, deep enough to leave an ugly scar. A scar that will remind her of him.

That late in the night, Lyssaera's wails filled the Red Keep as well as Aemond's ears. He cringes as he recalls the night when Lyssaera took his eye. That night, while the maesters were stitching up his eye and skin, he cried out in agony. Guilt consumes him as he considers how he ruined her dangerously beautiful yet angelic face. A beauty for which any man would die for. A beauty for which any man would fight for. But Aemond is not simply a man, because men do not ride dragons. And with this, he would not let any low life man pursue his Lyssaera. He smirks at the thought that no man would wed her because of the scar he carved out on her face. A scar that will remind every living person that Lyssaera Velaryon was his and only his.

[emilyhufflepufftlk]

Sometimes it’s good to be scared. It means you still have something to lose. - Richard Webber, Grey’s Anatomy

@morosemagick @solinarimoon @lauwrite1225 @magravenwrites @93xdiagonxalley @trenko-heart @persephones-journey @medievalfangirl @cibs @blah-blah-blah-bla @anotherwinchesterfangirl @muddleofnervouswords @sylas-the-grim

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

~✨Request Rules✨~

Update: Requests CLOSED

Characters I write for:

Tom Bennett (WOF)

Michael Gavey (Saltburn)

Billy Washington (Trigger Point)

Ettore (High Life)

Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Daemon Targaryen (HOTD) sparingly

Rules:

Please refrain from sending plot-heavy requests. They’re extremely difficult to write and I just find I can’t put much creativity in them.

No specificities for the reader/female character of the story like disabilities/eye colour etc.

I am at my liberty to change certain details of requests if I feel they gel with the story better. 

If I don’t think the request suits the character, I may not take on the request.

Please be patient! I will be working on other things alongside requests.

Thank you all again 💕

[qtssvnwoo]

New Account

IVE BEEN INACTIVE FOR FOREVER!!! And im sorry for that, But! I’m restarting my account, and im going to try and write more this summer.

My new account is @sonolynn, and i haven’t posted anything but it felt right to let everyone know.

[ravenofthefandoms]

A Reason to Fight

Word Count: 1085

Pairing: Osferth x Reader

Characters: Osferth, Finan (brief), Uthred of Bebbanburg (mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, vague descriptions of SA but no actual scenes of it, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: I just finished Season 4 of the Last Kingdom today and damn, I wanna write for my boys Osferth and Finan so badly. This is just a blurb that popped in my head, mostly just to keep my writing more than anything. Also, I’m considering moving all my fics to my main @smalltownbigheart but I really don’t want my blog to be super cluttered and make my fics hard to find. I’m gonna think about it this next week though. I might not move the ones I’ve already posted but I might start posting on my main. We’ll see. Anyways, hope yall enjoy the angst <3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

You sat huddled in the corner of the room that had been your prison for the past month. A shiver ran through you and a rumble from your belly made you cringe. Smoke creeping in from the open window had you coughing lightly, but you could not drag your eyes from the spot on the wall they had fixed themselves onto, a crack in the wall that looked eerily like the cross that you once worshiped. It was not long before the sound of battle reached your ears, but you stayed in your spot, wrapping your arms around your legs tightly. 

It was many hours before a knock came to your door, shocking you from your reverie. Your eyes darted towards the wood, widening in fear. Shallow, steady breathes soon became rapid, fear gripping your chest. No more. I can’t take anymore, you thought to yourself. Darkness began to cloud the edge of your vision, panic making your breathing loud and erratic. Tears that you thought had dried in your eyes suddenly began to swell. The door opened slowly and you began to shake your head, as if saying no would stop the door from opening another inch. 

“(Y/N)?”

A choked gasp fell from your lips as a familiar head of dark blond hair appeared before you. Your eyes fell from the hair to the face of the one person you loved most in this world. Osferth’s soft eyes met your teary ones and he moved forward slowly, taking in your state. Your hair was wild and tangled, your dress hanging onto you by threads, and a thin layer of blood coating your thighs. Your eyes, typically bright, were now dull and filled with fear. Even your face was gaunt and tear-streaked, your skin that was always soft and smooth beneath his hands now covered in small scars. “Oh, (Y/N)...” His voice was thick, as though he was holding back tears of his own. Slowly and gently, he approached you, hands clasped so tightly in front of him that his knuckles were white. 

Quickly, you sat up, a wave of dizziness making you sway. His hands shot out, intent on steadying you but he stopped himself. The young man did not know what happened to you, but felt that he could guess. What he did know is that when women were finally free, they were fearful and skittish. Slowly, he sank to his knees, gripping the threadbare blanket that had been thrown at you after the first night.

Sitting up straight, you looked down and grabbed his hands slowly. He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them softly. “Osferth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want them to but there were too many and I couldn’t stop them.” Your sobs broke free, a dam breaking as your eyes flooded tears onto your cheeks.

His own tears began to fall swiftly as he shook his head, placing a soft kiss to each of your knuckles. “Do not apologize, my love, please. I will not stand for you blaming yourself.” His words, though stern, were said in the softest voice you think you’ve ever heard. “You are safe now, I swear it. I swear to the Holy Trinity that I will never let you be hurt like this again. I would take my own life before I let anyone lay hands on you again.” His eyes held a burning vengeance, a boiling rage that made you feel protected. Another sob broke from your throat as you lunged forwards, forcing Osferth to wrap his arms around you to catch you. You flung your arms around his neck and cried. You cried and sobbed and whimpered until you were out of breath and out of tears. Osferth, so sweet and gentle, held you tightly the entire time, rubbing your back and whispering how he was sorry and how much he loved you. Eventually, you found the strength to peel yourself from his shoulder, his tunic soaked where your head had been buried. But Osferth didn’t care. He would hold you forever if you needed, let you soak his shoulder in tears everyday if it helped you. His eyes were sad as they gazed upon you, fluttering shut when you leaned your forehead against his. Your hand held his cheek, his own rising from your back to copy your movement. The pair of you stayed in this embrace until a throat cleared at the door.

“We’ve got rooms down near the alehouse. Sihtric is already drinkin’, but I figured I’d at least tell ya.” Finan’s voice cut through the serenity, reminding the both of you that you were still in Winchester and surrounded by Saxons and Danes alike.

“Thank you, Finan. Just give us another moment, please.” Osferth turned to his friend with a small smile, which was answered with a nod and a mumble that sounded like a ‘course’. He watched as Finan left before turning to you. A deep breathe and a shaky one out, then his eyes met yours. “I want you to be my wife,” he blurted out, eyes wide with his own kind of panic. “It is unfair of me to ask this of you now, but I cannot bear to wait another day without you. This entire time that you have been here, I have been waiting and praying that you were alive. I could not sleep, knowing you were here and I couldn’t protect you.” His voice broke and wavered. “I fought today not for Uthred or Wessex or even God. I fought so that I could find you, so I could hold you in my arms again. (Y/N), I love you, and I do not know how I survived for so long without you.” Tears swelled anew in your eyes, fat droplets splashing onto your cheeks. With shaking hands, you held his face gently. A soft smile spread across your lips, the movement of muscles awakening a forgotten ache. “Do you think Father Pyrlig will do it?” He looked at you, a bit confused, as his thumb gently wiped your tears away. “What?” A confused sound choked in his throat.

“Father Pyrlig. Do you think he would marry us? Today?” He grinned widely at you before nodding.

“We will ask. And if he won’t, we will find someone else.” Slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and intertwined his fingers with yours. “But first, we should eat.”

[transfinan]

"you dare die, baby monk, and I'll kill you myself."

[Finan checking Osferth over / Osferth grasping Finan's arm]

[soulhollow]

Work title: An evening on Uhtred's Lundene terrace Chapter title: Warm welcome Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: The Last Kingdom (inclusive/inspired by the original books and BBC/Netflix series) Rating: M (overall work), this chapter General Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Alfred, Uhtred, others Summary:

A brief scene from Sword Song, a re-imagining, a fleshing-out. Alfred's unannounced visit to Lundene following the recapture of the city by Uhtred and Aethelred's forces. Inspiration drawn from the original books by Bernard Cornwell as well as the BBC/Netflix series.

[rosie-posie1313]

Aemond Targaryen Fic Recs I 🐉

Masterlists

House of the Dragon masterlist  By @thesithdiaries

ASOIAF CHARACTERS MASTERLIST By @frankcastleonlyfans

Aemond Targaryen Fanfics By @psycheflame

Fic Recs

The Northener who tamed the dragon By @heartysworld

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Gods Eye Prequel By ^

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The Sweetest Betrayal By ^

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Strong words  By @osferth

a family divided By ^

𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 By @chloesolace

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯 [𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 2] By ^

Pretty Thing By @aemondtargaryenswhore

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Pt4: under the dragons eye By @gay-dorito-dust (A)

demolition lovers  By @sainttherezia

Of Fire & Blood Headcanons (Part One). By @midnight-fairee

Of Fire & Blood Headcanons (Part Two). By ^

Little Secrets: One By @qarl-grimes

Little Secrets: Two By ^

Is This What You Wanted  By @nonalie

Moral Turpitude - The One-Eyed Prince (Pt. 1) By @aemondbreakbones

BLACK BRIDE pt 6 By @highqueensworld

Family Ties  By @vivalarevolution

As Beautiful As Endless By @two-white-butterflies

Always Meant to be Together By @mybeautifuldelirium

Amusement  By @theficthatwaspromised

Headcanon for a ball By @factorydefaultlu

The Tournament By @afro-hispwriter

A Good Wife By ^

Letters By ^

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LINGERING IN OUR MEMORIES By @goldsainz

midnight escapade By @jacesbeloved

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Your beauty never scared me By @yourwonkywriter

Your beauty never scared me pt 2 By ^

Tell me the story By ^

You make it better By @star-girl69

To young for war, too beautiful for battles By @simpingland

Wolfs and dragons, both have claws and teeth By ^

A new life  By @demiguisemoon

I know yours  By @bookofbonbon

Love Lost  By ^

a welcome distraction By @good4olivia

don’t you love me? By @endless-ineffabilities

possessive Aemond By @factorydefaultlu

aemond showing his sapphire eye By @gay-dorito-dust

I’m the mess that you wanted By @thegreatestsandwich

The Dragon Dance By @dreamcatcher2113

The Dragon Dance By ^

UNLIKE HIS FATHER By @sansaorgana

DRAGONS BANE By @house-strong

Keeper of his Heart By @factorydefaultlu

in the still of the night By @saltywritings

Uncle Aemond to the rescue? By @cryptaris

“the dreamer” part 2 By @yummycastiel

My Fierce Lady By @runningmunson

A divine tribute and a divine prince. By @yzzart

A dragon knows a dragon. By ^

Now I’m here, with you. By ^

Blood of my Blood By @ultralightpoe

Salt the Earth Behind You By ^

No other remorse By @shawty-writes-a-little

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Missing.

Note: requested by anon!

Warnings: angst, mention of death.

pairing: Sihtric x missing wife!reader/you (f)

summary: You went missing during the attack at Rumcofa.

wordcount: 3,1k

Masterlist

'What of my wife?'

'Lord!' Cynlaef called as he approached, Finan followed closely behind as their horses brought them closer.

'What are you doing here?' Uhtred asked the young man, with clear anger and surprise on his face, 'Aelfwynn in is Buccstan.'

Finan and Cynlaef looked dishevelled upon their horses, their faces painted with sand, blood and the remains of the horror they had recently been through. Uhtred's stern look disappeared quickly when the two men didn't respond. 

'What news of Rumcofa?' Uhtred asked, concerned.

Cynlaef swallowed hard as the Lord looked at him, too afraid to speak about what had happened.

'What of my son?' Uhtred then asked.

'My family?' Sihtric asked immediately, distraught, 'my wife?'

'Your son lives, Lord,' Cynlaef answered, and then looked at Sihtric, 'your wife…'

'What of my wife?' Sihtric took a step closer, 'where is my wife?' he asked again, his voice trembling.

'Many in Rumcofa…' the young warrior continued, but fell silent as he fought his tears.

'Where is Osferth?' Sihtric suddenly asked, as if distracted, 'Finan, where is Osferth? Where is my wife?'

'Finan!' Uhtred raised his voice when neither Cynlaef nor Finan gave a solid answer to their questions.

Then, Finan opened his mouth to speak, but not a single word or even as much as a sound came out.

'Tell us,' Uhtred said, almost threatening, 'where is Osferth?'

'And my wife?' Sihtric asked again, his eyes big and drenched with concern.

After Uhtred and Sihtric were told about the sudden attack on Rumcofa and the devastating death of Osferth, Finan then had to break the news to the Dane that his wife was missing. That you were missing.

'N-no,' Sihtric almost whined upon hearing those words, 'no, this cannot be. Uhtred,' he looked at his Lord with disbelief, 'this… this cannot be,' he turned to face Finan again, 'you are mistaken,' Sihtric said calmly, while it was clear that he was on the verge of insanity.

'Sihtric-,' Finan tried to carefully let the Dane accept the reality of the situation, that no one knew whether you were dead or alive.

'Tell me where my wife is!' Sihtric snarled as he stalked over to the men on their horses.

'I… I,' Finan stammered, 'w-we don't know.'

'We just don't know,' Cynlaef said quietly.

Before Uhtred could grab Sihtric and bring him to a halt, the Dane already stopped dead in his tracks and just stared up at the two bearers of the gut wrenching news.

'Did you see her flee?' Sihtric then asked, hopeful.

'Sihtric…' Uhtred placed his hand on the Dane's shoulder, a gesture to stop him from asking more questions no one had an answer to. An attempt to stop him from bringing more hurt upon himself.

'Did… h-has she fled?' Sihtric's voice broke as he continued desperately, 'tell me she has fled.'

It had to be, Sihtric thought, the one thing I know I have done right was teaching you to flee. How to be invisible and escape death. You fled. You are alive and have fled. It's the only way. It's the only possibility. By the gods, please. Death is not an option… death…

Sihtric grabbed at his chest as he felt a sharp pain, and he fell down on his knees, gasping for air. The two horsemen jumped off their beasts and, along with Uhtred, knelt beside the panicked and disoriented warrior.

'If she lives,' Uhtred said as he embraced Sihtric along with the others, 'then we will find her.'

You shivered as you sat upon a horse. You had no idea whose horse it was, but the horse was all you had while you felt lost. Not where you only truly lost, not recognizing your surroundings anymore, but you felt lost in your heart too. Lost without your husband by your side, or any familiar face in general. 

Sihtric was a good husband and tried to be there as much as he could, but being a warrior and one of Uhtred's most loyal men meant he had to leave you often. And it hadn't been any different when Rumcofa was suddenly attacked.

You felt cold, scared and lonely. You had fled, just like your husband had taught you, which you were grateful for. But now that you were truly on your own, you just didn't know what to do anymore. Sihtric had taught you how to flee, and the plan for you always was to stop at the nearest safe town, where he would then find you. But you had no idea where the nearest town was, or if it was even safe. You had no idea where Sihtric was right now, and how could he possibly know where you were going, when you didn't even know yourself.

Memories of the horrible attack replayed in your head, over and over again, and it truly was a blessing from the gods that you had managed to escape the madness, unseen by the bastards who raided the town. Unlike Finan's wife, who was alive when you last saw her but hadn't been as fortunate as you to escape successfully. But at least she still had her husband there,unlike you. You left and lived, unlike poor Osferth, who never attempted to escape but stood his ground and fought, an attempt he came to pay with his life.

You shed tears as the horse walked you through an endless forest, and all you could do was pray to your gods that you would see your husband again.

No one knew how Sihtric had bruised his hands. And Sihtric would never tell anyone either. He would never tell anyone how he had repeatedly punched a tree with his bare fists, bark cutting and slicing into his flesh as he cried out of anger, despair and with a broken heart. Because no one knew where you were. No one could tell him if his wife was still alive.

And the other men, Finan, Uhtred and Cynlaef, knew that Sihtric was most likely sabotaging his own health right now, but none dared to stop him. Because how do you console a man who does not know if he will see his wife again? Or if he does, if she will be alive. And if not alive, would she still be recognisable enough for him to know it's her body?

Sihtric sat back against a tree and stared into the fire at his feet, wrapped in his cloak while his thoughts ran wild. His jaw was painfully clenched in a desperate attempt to fight his tears and keep his breathing steady. He hoped that somehow he could send you a message, maybe if he tried hard enough. He hoped that he could somehow let you know he was going to look for you, that he was going to find you.

I have to find you, he thought, I will find you. I promise I will find you, my love. He swallowed hard when he looked up at the bright moon. I hope you're looking at the moon now too, my goddess. My love, my wife. I am sorry I wasn't there. I should have been there. I have failed you, and I am sorry. If I… when I find you, I promise you, I will never leave you again. Not like this. Never. Sihtric sniffled while his eyes welled up. You should be here right now, with me, safely in my arms and wrapped in my cloak with me.

Sihtric's breathing became unsteady as he was completely taken by his own thoughts, and the men next to him carefully glanced from the corners of their eyes. Uhtred and Finan shared a concerned look, while Cynlaef was just quiet and darted his eyes between the fire and Sihtric's tired face.

Sihtric struggled to breathe when his mind showed him many false images of your lifeless body, somewhere in Rumcofa. Maybe you were slaughtered near the stables, or perhaps Death had found you when you had tried to flee by boat. Sihtric shook his head as he tried to rid himself of those thoughts. You're alive. You're alive and I will find you. I will find you, my darling, I will find you even if it's the last thing I'll do. A strangled sob left his throat when his tears finally started to spill, causing the other men to perk up and move closer to the distressed Dane in an attempt to console him. 

Gods, Sihtric thought as the fire he stared at was just an out of focus orb now, please. I love you. I love you so. Please let me know you are alive, please.

And then, in the midst of the cold night, a raven cawed in a tree nearby and flew away.

By a miracle you had found a little town you had never heard of before, but safe you were. The people had made a fire and given you food and tea. And while you sat there at the fire, wrapped in one of the blankets the kind people had given you, you looked up at the bright moon and hoped that your husband was perhaps looking at the same beauty in the night sky.

Your broken smile disappeared slowly as tears filled your eyes. You were so cold, so lonely and so scared. You should've been with Sihtric now. That was all you wanted; to be with your husband, safely wrapped in his arms while he'd leave soft, sweet kisses on your neck, jaw and temple. To feel his warm breath on your skin as he trailed his rough fingertips up and down your sides, before squeezing you in his strong arms and making you giggle, like he always did. All you wanted was to hear his soft hums in your ear and to feel his chin propped up on your shoulder as he held you.

All you wanted was for him to know you were alive, and for him to somehow find you. Because you had no idea how to find him. You had never felt more lost, and you had no idea if he was even alive, you then realised. And your tears began to roll down your cheeks.

And then, in the midst of the cold night, a raven landed in a tree nearby and cawed.

'You… you're alive?' Finan gasped and held your hands, still recovering from the battle that had occurred several days ago, 'y-you're alive!' he laughed.

'Of course I'm alive!' you hissed with a grin, 'do you even know who my husband is?' you scoffed, 'I can't die before him. He'll go mad and who knows what that half empty brain of his will come up with. But he…' your smile faded, 'Sihtric? Is… is he alive?'

'Yes! yes, he is alive. But how did you… how?' Finan stammered, still in disbelief you had bumped into him as soon as you stepped through the gates of Bebbanburg.

'I fled Rumcofa, that day… you know, when Osferth,' you swallowed hard and cleared your throat, 'after days of travel I found Eadith and Aelswith. We travelled here together-'

'Eadith is here?' Finan interrupted you.

You blinked at the married Irish man, confused but also very amused.

'Yes, she and Aelswith are there,' you chuckled and cocked your head towards the two ladies who had helped you. 'Aelswith even stabbed someone.'

'She did what?' Finan snorted.

'Yeah, she wasn't even wearing gloves,' you grinned.

You and Finan snickered while the Irish man's eyes kept wandering to Eadith, and then you suddenly punched his chest.

'My husband?'

'Right!' Finan said, 'eh, he's… he's,' he looked around Bebbanburg, which was still a mess as people were already rebuilding the parts of the burh that had caught fire during the battle, 'there!' he suddenly exclaimed at the sight of your husband.

Sihtric sulked through Bebbanburg. He knew he was supposed to help fix the burned down parts, but he couldn't really be bothered with anything anymore. 

Sihtric couldn't recall how many nights he has slept with you now, all he knew was that nightmares taunted him each time he dozed off. He had seen every possible death of you, and he couldn't handle it anymore, but therefore he also couldn't recall how long he had gone without sleep. He was tired. Tired of a life without you. He hadn't accepted that you were gone, and he hadn't stopped looking either, because every day when new people came to Bebbanburg he would ask about you. But as no one knew of your whereabouts, Sihtric was at a loss. He didn't know what to do anymore, except scouting the lands whenever he possibly could, but as Uhtred saw it was destroying him, he had ordered him to stop looking for you every day and night.

Sihtric hadn't listened the first few times he was told to stop, but when Uhtred had slapped some sense into him, he didn't go looking anymore every day. Instead, he went looking every other day. And his heart was broken more every time he came back to Bebbanburg without you.

And when Uhtred told Sihtric once again to calm down and pick up his regular life again, it had ended in a brawl. Sihtric had shouted at the Lord how he had promised that if you were still alive, they'd find you. But you still weren't there. And so Uhtred, in his frustration, had yelled that maybe they hadn't found you yet because you were dead. Finan had broken up the fight and Sihtric, who threw one last punch towards Uhtred, then started spending his days and nights in taverns when he wasn't looking for you, drowning out his broken heart with ale until he couldn't stand or think straight anymore.

And so, like the day before yesterday, Sihtric was in the stables to saddle his horse. He was exhausted after another sleepless night. His lifeless mismatched eyes laid deep in his skull, which was merely covered with his thin, colour deprived scarred skin. His hair was messy, not braided anymore, as you used to do that for him and now he could care less for how he looked. His cloak was draped over his defeated shoulders, and his feet dragged through the mud with each forced step he took. His stomach rumbled, he had no idea when he had a proper meal for the last time, but he had no appetite anyway and he didn't care. Eating was a waste of time, he thought, because he could use that time to go and look for you. Slowly, and rather weakly, he took the reins of his horse and led his companion out the stables. Sihtric dragged his feet one step at a time through the town, towards the gates.

'Oi! Rat!'

Sihtric heard Finan's name calling, but he was not in the mood. The Dane would never say it out loud or even admit it to himself but, deep down in his heart, he felt resentment towards the Irish man. Because his wife was still alive. And while Sihtric saddled his horse, he had spotted Eadith across town too. And Sihtric may be a bit of a fool, but he was never blind to the chemistry Finan and Eadith had years ago. So now, Sihtric thought, the Irish man had two ladies to admire. While he was left with nothing but the fading memory of you, his wife.

'Sihtric!' Finan tried again as he ran over with the little strength he still had, 'stop!' he yelled and finally caught up, just when Sihtric was about to climb up on his horse.

'What?' Sihtric mumbled tiredly.

'Y-your,' Finan said out of breath, and he suddenly realised he was truly getting older with each battle, 'your… your wife!' he panted.

'What of my wife?' Sihtric almost sighed, not understanding what his friend wanted.

'Is here!' Finan grabbed Sihtric's shoulders, then slapped his tired face, 'your wife is here! Alive!'

Sihtric didn't even react to the slap in his face, instead he just blinked confused. He furrowed his brow and shook his head as he lightly shrugged, utterly confused and agitated at this point.

'Just let me go look for her,' Sihtric mumbled and shoved Finan aside, tugging the reins of his horse to follow him.

Finan, who scoffed and then laughed, grabbed Sihtric's shoulder again and spun him around.

'Look, you bloody idiot!' he said as he turned Sihtric to face towards you, as you approached him, 'she is here! She found you.'

Sihtric froze at the sudden sight of you.

This cannot be, he thought, this is a dream. This is merely a dream which will soon turn into another nightmare.

Sihtric stared at you, then his legs gave out beneath him and he fell down to his knees as his teary eyes remained fixed on you.

'M-my… love,' he breathed, barely audible.

You made haste towards your husband, your tired and weakened husband, but you still thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You knelt down in front of Sihtric and took his thin, white face in your hands.

Sihtric felt your warm hands on his skin, and he closed his eyes as tears fell uncontrollably. He was simply waiting to wake up somewhere on the floor, in a filthy tavern, with an empty jug of ale in his hand. But it didn't happen. He didn't wake up. Not even when he caught your familiar scent and felt your soft lips on his. He didn't even wake up when he heard your voice, when you said his name.

'Sihtric,' you said, which sounded with an echo in his head.

'Sihtric, open your eyes,' he heard you say, and you lightly shook his shoulders.

He sniffled and slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred by tears and the sound of his heart beating out of his chest was overwhelming. He brought his trembling hands up to your face, and he touched you with utmost caution and care, slow and soft.

'You… you,' he stammered, 'are a-alive?'

'I am alive. You taught me how to flee,' you smiled and sniffled, 'and you are still alive too,' you held his cold, bruised hands and took in the fragile state of your husband, 'but only barely it seems. What happened to you, my darling?'

'Life without you,' Sihtric whispered, and finally dared to cup your cheeks, 'I am never leaving you again, never, I promise.'

And then, when Sihtric finally dared to kiss you, pouring out all his love for you, a raven landed in a tree nearby and cawed.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @liandav @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

All Things End

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~2.7k

Summary: Based on this request. Life has been blissful for Osferth since finding love with a Christian woman from Alton. However, he cannot shake the thought that she deserves better; if he loves her, he should want her to be happy, even if that happiness is not found with him... Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @blvckmvgicwoman. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Her breaths come in ragged pants that fan hotly against the sweat soaked skin of Osferth’s neck. She is pliant beneath him, thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, mirroring the spasming grip of her warm, wet walls, pulling him towards his end as she reaches her own. The pressure that has steadily been building at the base of his spine explodes in white hot intensity, and he screws his eyes shut as he pushes back into her with a final, deep thrust, spilling himself inside of her.

Inside of her.

He freezes as the sensation fades away, eyes snapping back open in stark realisation. He pulls back, breathing heavily, panic not allowing his heart rate to slow.

“I–I did not mean to…I’m sorry. That was careless of me, please forgive me, I–”

She places a palm against his cheek, caressing his face gently, halting his rambled apologies. Her expression is calm, though her eyes are glossy, lips parted as the afterglow of their tryst suffuses through her flesh.

“It is fine, my love, we will take care of it.”

He knows all too well what she means when she says that. She will take care of it. It would not be the first time that she has had to.

It has been a year since they shared their first night together, and they have enjoyed many more since then, under the cover of stars, or on the straw stuffed mattresses of the various ale reeking inns that they find themselves in when they have enough coin to seek proper shelter on their travels. Osferth is usually always careful, pulling out and coating her thighs, lower back or belly with his spend. However, there have been two occasions when he has gotten lost in her warmth, the intoxicating scent of her, and forgotten himself, finishing inside of her as he ascends to the height of bliss, before the gravity of his carelessness plummets him back to earth with horrifying cognizance. Tonight is the third time that this has happened.

His expression is sullen as he sits by the campfire the following morning, watching her brew the pungent roots and herbs in a steaming pot of water. The acrid stench makes his nostrils twitch in disgust, but he refuses to move or look away. She is the one that has to drink the noxious liquid, suffering the smell of it pales in comparison, and does little to assuage the guilt that weighs heavily upon his chest.

She grimaces as she gulps it down, brow furrowed as she struggles not to retch at the taste, and he swears silently to himself that this is a torment that he will never allow her to suffer again. She deserves better, he must be better for her.

The frightened young woman he had met in Alton has come a long way since he had rescued her. She is no longer shy and fearful and, though still steadfast in her faith, she shares herself with him freely and without shame. She drinks ale, laughs heartily at Finan’s dirty jokes and no longer displays any apprehension at interacting with Uhtred and the others. His heart swells with warmth and affection for the woman he has fallen in love with, she is truly the light of his life. Though in moments such as these he is left to ponder on how exactly he has changed hers, and if it is for the better.

He has basked in her warmth on chilly evenings, enjoyed the sinful pleasures of her flesh, found comfort and joy in the unconditional love that she showers him with, but what can he possibly offer her in return?

Osferth is her protector, but would she need that protection at all if she were not travelling with Uhtred and his men? He is the blade against the harm that he directly places her in the way of every time they prepare for battle. They have no home, no money, nothing but what they carry upon their horses. He loves her more than he ever thought himself capable of loving another person, but love alone will not provide for her.

The thoughts consume him as they ride south, towards the next village, and he clings tightly to her as she leans back against him in the saddle, as though he can feel the very essence of her slipping through his fingers. A man less selfish would simply let her go, but he cannot fathom a life without her. Deep down, despite trying his best, he knows he will never get it right.

Beocca and Æthelwold are awaiting them when they arrive, and she leaves him with a cheerful smile and a soft kiss on the lips, explaining that she wishes to explore, a polite means to excuse herself from the discussion that she knows does not concern her. He is ever grateful for her intuitive nature, but once more left disheartened that she is placed in that position to begin with.

He is barely able to focus as Beocca relays Alfred’s demands to Uhtred. There is a dawning sense of finality settling in the pit of his stomach, causing cold tendrils of dread to spread throughout his body, and it does not come from the news of the King’s order of one hundred pieces of wergild and an oath sworn to his son, Edward. There is a price he knows he will have to pay sooner rather than later, and it will come at a greater cost to him than any fealty sworn to a future ruler.

Osferth watches as she laughs breathlessly, the sound carrying softly on the breeze. The children scurry around her skirts, rosy faced and grinning, eager to play. She had obliged and agreed to join in on their game of chase when they had invited her, excited at having new people arrive in the village. Her playing with them feels effortless, natural even, and he thinks about how easily she would adapt to motherhood, to have a babe of her own to hold in her arms. It causes a lump in his throat, his gaze growing misty as his mouth tugs downward, knowing that’s something he will never be able to give her.

He is a bastard. He will not pass that curse on by marriage or parentage, that will die with him.

But what of her wants and needs? He is depriving her of the opportunity to be a wife, a mother. He can no longer subject her to a life of vagrancy and uncertainty, simply because of his heedless desire to have her at his side. She did not ask for this, it has been thrust upon her without her say so. Her life cannot truly begin until the one she leads with him comes to an end. With a heavy heart, he decides that when they reach the next town he will travel on without her.

The village they currently occupy seems too small, too dirty, not vibrant enough for her to call home, he reasons, she deserves to live somewhere bigger and as filled with exuberant life as she is. He knows he is lying to himself, he is simply unprepared to let her go, he is not ready. He is not sure he ever will be, but he will have to be for both of their sakes.

Over the coming days, he keeps her close, committing to memory the softness of her hair between his fingers and the way the sunlight dapples upon it like fresh spun silk. He inhales the fragrant scent of her skin every time he holds her close, as though trying to permanently imprint the faint floral smell upon his mind.

The way her eyes light up whenever she smiles is the sight he will miss most of all. He wishes for that to be the only expression he ever sees upon her beautiful face. He cannot bear the thought of parting ways and seeing the heartbreak in her eyes, or the tears that might fill them. It is craven, but he knows the only way he will ever be able to leave her is if he slips away without telling her.

His heart sits like a stone within his chest when they eventually arrive at the next town. He knows that when he departs it will no longer be in tact, torn asunder as he leaves half of it behind. He can see his future darkening as he looks into her eyes, knowing it may be the final time he ever gets the opportunity to do so.

Osferth makes love to her that night, his pace unhurried, every thrust drawn out slowly, memorising the subtle movements of her hips and each soft sigh that passes her lips. His hands stroke through her hair, caressing her face, before dragging over her curves. If this is to be his final time with her then he wants it to last, wants her to feel just how much she means to him, and to be left with the memory of how utterly divine she had felt pressed against him.

“I love you,” he whispers to her, as she cuddles against his chest afterwards.

“And I love you.”

Those simple words cause his throat to tighten, knowing he will never hear her utter them again.

It is for the best, he thinks sadly as he watches her sleep peacefully next to him. She deserves the opportunity to settle down, to get married, to have a family. She deserves everything he will never be able to give her.

He slips out of the bed as dawn breaks, casting a dusky orange glow through the gap in the threadbare curtains. The loss of her warmth is intensified by the knowledge that this is his final time experiencing it, the sensation of parting from her akin to being plunged into icy water. He has to force himself to look away from her in order to gather up his clothes and get dressed, careful not to disturb her.

Hovering by the door, he hesitates a moment, staring at her as she slumbers. If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel so painful? His love for her is unconditional, however, and he longs for her to find happiness, even if that means he is not a part of it.

He hates the thought of her waking up alone, the inevitable betrayal she will feel when she realises what he has done, and it tempts him to stay, to continue to pretend that he could ever be enough for her. But he knows those feelings will pass for her, and when they do she will meet the man who will marry her and father children with her, a man who does not carry the curse of bastardry.

“There is a woman in the room upstairs,” he tells the innkeeper on his way out, handing him a coin purse containing all of the money that Osferth has to his name. “Please ensure she is well taken care of.”

His hands shake as he saddles up his horse, the void she has left behind seeming as though it will swallow him whole. He is incomplete without her, destined to go through life feeling like half of a person.

Finan raises an eyebrow at Osferth, as he tends to his own mount, eyeing him with suspicion. “She not coming with us?”

Osferth swallows thickly, an attempt to keep the emotion from his voice, as he keeps his eyes focused on the straps he buckles. “No.”

“Yes, I am!” She cries out, hurrying towards them, a bewildered look upon her face. Her hair is still tousled from sleep, suggesting she had dressed in a hurry to catch them up. “Osferth, why did you not wake me?”

His heart sinks, tears prickling his eyes as he turns to look at her, knowing he will now have to have the conversation he had been wanting to avoid all along. Finan clears his throat, looking between the two of them, before moving away towards where Uhtred and Sihtric are readying to leave.

“You are to stay here,” he says in a trembling voice, “I have left coin with the innkeeper to take care of you.”

“For how long?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

He lowers his gaze, guilt pooling in his gut, unsure of how to word his response. There is no kind way to say “forever” in this instance.

“For how long, Osferth?!” She asks again, her voice wavering as it raises an octave.

His eyes are sad and filled with remorse as he looks back up at her, nausea swirling in his stomach as he watches a tear slip down her cheek. His fingers twitch uselessly by his sides with the urge to wipe it away.

“Do you not want me anymore?” 

Her voice is barely above a whisper as she asks this, and it feels as though a dagger has been twisted into Osferth’s heart. How could she possibly ever believe he didn’t want her? She means everything to him.

He shakes his head, the words feeling as though they will choke him as his vision blurs. “I will never stop wanting you,” he confesses, “but that is precisely the problem. You deserve better than the life I can provide for you. I will never be able to give you children, or marry you. I am trying to do what is best for you. I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy, you bloody fool!” She cries, the slightest hint of anger creeping into her tone. “And it is not for you to decide what is best for me. Why did you not tell me that this was how you were feeling?”

“I could not bear to have a conversation that I knew would break both of our hearts. I know that is cowardice, but I knew you would never agree to leave, and I cannot continue to hold you back from the life you deserve.”

He stares miserably at her, feeling the wetness of his tears upon his face as she swipes angrily at her own. This is not how this was supposed to go. He does not want this to be how they remember each other.

“You are right,” she says defiantly, “I would not have agreed to go. If a husband and children were what I wanted then I would have parted ways with you long ago. I am not the scared little girl you found a year ago. I make my own choices.” 

His lips part involuntarily, eyes widening slightly. “How can this possibly be the life that you would choose for yourself? How could I ever be enough?”

She sighs, reaching for his hand, clasping his fingers tightly in his. The gesture spreads warmth from the tips of his toes all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you, Osferth. You are enough for me. The life we have is enough for me. I do not wish to risk my life in childbirth, or spend my days tending to the needs of a husband who views me as something to be possessed. I want a life that is filled with adventure, I want to fall asleep under the stars, and I want to do it all with you at my side.”

A small, yet hopeful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he steps closer, tenderly wiping away the wetness beneath her eyes with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “God brought us together for a reason. All things must end, I know this, but not what we have, just the foolish way in which you perceive it.”

He rests his forehead against hers, relief and embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I have been so stupid, can you ever forgive me? I do not know how to even begin to apologise.”

She leans in, pressing her lips to his, allowing them to linger for a moment before pulling away with a slight grin. “Save your apologies. You will need them for the innkeeper when you ask for your money back.”

He smiles. There is comfort in knowing that everything ends, because within it they have been given the opportunity to begin again.

[the-common-cowgirl]

The Lost Children Masterlist

Pairings: Osferth x Uhtred & Brida’s Daughter (Reader)

Osferth finds an unlikely kinship between this blasphemous, bastard daughter raised in a nunnery. The kinship turns into something more as Osferth and the girl become bound together by a lie.

Warnings for this series: +18, Minors DNI, Blood, smut (like everything), mentions of trauma, AFAB, violence, minor character death, fluff, angst, reader is a downright menace, blasphemy, swearing, slow-ish burn

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

[little-diable]

Ragnarök - Sihtric (smut)

This was written for @whitedarkmoonflower since they won my 15k celebration as a reader! I hope you enjoy this as much as I do, lovie! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading his, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: After a brutal fight Sihtric can’t find his lover in the crowd of knights he fought with, praying to the gods that the female warrior he loved was still alive.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, a bit of angst, but mainly focused on their relationship

Pairing: Sihtric x fem!warrior!reader (1.8k words)

Picture from Pinterest, credit to the original owner

„There the dim dragon will come in flight, the glittering serpent, from Dark Mountains below. Bearing corpses in its feathers, as it soars over the plain, the Dark-Striker. Now she will sink down.“ - Völuspá: The Prophecy, Ragnarök

The battlefield was muddy, blood stuck to Sihtric’s features, arms, and armour. A sight that would leave any person who had never stood on a battlefield frightened, a sight Sihtric was all too used to. The fight had been brutal, no longer held back by rules, laws even knights would follow in battle, no, it had been awfully primal, watching men choke on their blood, swords and axes piercing hearts, stomachs, and lungs. 

But even though Sihtric found a sick sense of satisfaction swapping through him whenever he killed an enemy of theirs, he no longer managed to focus on the victory he should be celebrating with his friends and brothers. All Sihtric could focus on was trying to find her amongst the still-breathing soldiers, praying to his gods that she was alive. 

Panic began to swap through him as time kept ticking by, without any sight of her, the one his heart called out to, the one that had claimed Sihtric as hers many moons ago. (Y/n), the one he shared his bed with, the female warrior that had stolen Sihtric’s heart the first time their paths had crossed. He had instantly been drawn to her, admiring the fire burning in her eyes, the teasing words rolling off her tongue all too easily, she had been one of them from the first moment on, a warrior others looked up to.

Sihtric didn’t pick up on the call of his name, not caring about the way Finan tried to hold onto him, all too aware of his friend’s panicked state. The Irishman kept murmuring his name, hands covered in mud and blood, just like Sihtric, grasping his leather armour to stop his friend from carelessly stumbling over corpses of once honourable men and their horses. 

“Sihtric, look at me.” Finan eventually managed to catch Sihtric’s frantic gaze, allowing the man to catch his breath as his heart raced in his chest, urged on by the fright clinging to him. “What is with you?” 

“(Y/n), I can’t find her, I-” a cry wanted to claw through the once so fearless man, not used to being guided by his emotions like he was in that very moment. “Finan, where is she? She can’t be dead.”

“We’ll find her, I am sure she’s also trying to find you.” Finan let go of his friend, turning towards Osfeth with his head tilted towards his right, wordlessly trying to tell the young monk to follow the two. No further word was spoken as they combed through the endless seeming blanket of corpses, flipping some that had a similar build and hair colour like (y/n), praying every single time that it wasn't her. 

“What if she was taken? Gods, Finan, I left her alone, I wasn’t there for her.” Neither Osferth nor Finan was used to hearing Sihtric speak words this uneasy, clearly struggling with the fear he was held hostage by. No reply was spoken as Finan focused on something, or rather someone, unable to bite down his smile as he forced Sihtric to look in the same direction.

With a gasp rumbling through Sihtric, he took off running, pressing his sword into Finan’s hands before he left them behind. His body collided with (y/n)’s, pulling her into his chest with a relieved sigh leaving him. Sihtric’s lips kept kissing her forehead, trying to prove to himself that she was alive, held close to his heart, not leaving him any time soon.

“I thought I’d lost you, don’t ever leave me like that again.” His murmured words left (y/n) chuckling, shifting her weight to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. They could taste one another’s emotions, tongues tangled, hearts beating in unison, finally able to breathe through their fear, their pain. 

“I am sorry, I don’t know how I got lost in the crowd. I’m alright, I promise.” Her eyes flickered to Finan’s and Osferth’s approaching frames, shooting them a quick smile before she pressed another kiss to Sihtric’s lips, whispering a soft “I’d never leave you like that”.

……

The moon stood high in the dark sky, reflecting in the cold water currently teasing their limbs. Sihtric held (y/n)’s naked frame to his equally bare skin, still shaken up by the way he had looked for her hours ago, unable to let go of his uneasiness. 

No words were spoken as they cleaned themselves, removing the reminders of a brutal but successful battle. Another victory men, women, and children would talk about for centuries to come, they were sure of it. 

But even though the others had tried to pull the two lovers into their traps, wanting to celebrate their victory with endless pours of ale, neither Sihtric nor (y/n) had been in the mood to spend time with those they loved like their family. Sihtric had pulled (y/n) away from the crowd at the first chance, needing to feel her close with a sober mind and clear thoughts. 

“I have never felt more frightened than today, the thought of finding you dead because I wasn’t there to protect you-“ Sihtric choked on his words, having to force his teeth into his lower lip to stop his cries from clawing through him. A facade (y/n) saw through all too easily, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

The kiss wasn’t as heated, as forceful as the one they had shared on the battlefield, but it had something equally emotional to it, transmitting their every longing. A soft moan left (y/n) as Sihtric’s strong hands found her behind, pulling her against his hardening cock. She held a special kind of magic over the man, making waves of lust thump through his veins at any given chance, his very own Ragnarök, the chaotic end of his world, and those the gods had crafted for themselves.

“Sihtric,” she mewled his name, movements slowed by the river, needing a few moments till their legs finally found their way around his waist. His cock rubbed against her folds, making both hiss in anticipation, knowing that this night would yet be another one filled with endless orgasms, with their insatiable desire for one another driving them on. “I need you, need to feel you, need to make sure that you’re still here, with me.”

Sihtric forced her into another kiss as he started walking towards the meadow leading up the hill, shielded by the darkness from any drunken men and women that may find their way down to the river. A gasp managed to leave (y/n) as he placed them down, pinning her against the ground with his weight on top of hers, not leaving any space between them. 

“You’re mine, my woman, my warrior, till the day I die. I’ll never leave your side again, just the thought of losing you makes me want to end my own life. No day is worth living if I don’t get to share it with you.” The words Sihtric whispered against her swollen lips drew tears to (y/n)’s eyes, staring at her man with love and longing swimming in her pupils, only ripped out of her trance as she felt his calloused fingertips on her pulsing bundle. 

Expectedly he circled the soft flesh, finding enjoyment in the sounds she let go of, begging him for more, needing to feel him buried deep inside of her. There was no need for any words, nothing would ever manage to describe what they felt for one another, what they needed to do to give in to their longings. 

With his eyes burning through hers, Sihtric aligned his cock with her entrance, slowly pushing into her after he coated himself with her arousal. He took his time, wanting to savour every moment, wanting to hear the gasps leaving his lover as he sank even deeper into her, still having to adjust to the stretch after all these months. And only after (y/n) managed to choke on his name did he allow himself to properly take care of her, set on a ferocious rhythm that made both their hearts race in excitement. 

Profanities left Sihtric as he interlaced his hands with hers, pinning them over her head to keep her in place. He needed to control the moment, especially after a day like this, a day where he had gotten a glimpse into a future he wanted to avoid at every cost, needing to change their fate as he still had the power to do so. She was his end and his beginning, a story that had found its beginning in Muspell, the place not even the strongest souls had managed to endure, but no matter the biting heat, he’d walk through it all if it meant getting to love her. 

“Look at me, Sihtric.” (Y/n) forced his piercing eyes to focus on her, feeling his thoughts start to wander as the speed of his rough thrusts momentarily began to falter, needing to catch him before he could slip into a realm filled with darkness. “I’m here, with you. Nothing and nobody can ever change that, I’m with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

With her head being lifted from the ground, she kissed him, taking over the control to flip them around, straddling his lap. Both were desperate for their release, needing to feel that blinding sensation they were aching for. Sihtric kept watching her, marvelling at her, admiring her with his hands wandering up her frame, cupping her naked breasts. 

The way he pinched her hardened nipples forced her to arch her back, head rolling back to let go of a deep, gritty moan. Sihtric could have come from the sound alone, having to stop himself from giving in as he felt her walls flutter around him. He watched her fuck herself on his twitching cock, sneaking one hand down her frame to rub her bundle. 

And with the call of his name, (y/n) came, scratching at his naked chest with the intense feeling racing through her body. Once again she found herself pressed to the ground as Sihtric searched for his high, fucking into her even faster than before. He came with a gasp, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. A sight so beautiful (y/n) wanted to freeze the passing by moments, forever needing to remember this very second. 

“I love you, and nothing will ever change that Sihtric Kjartansson.”

[aphroditesmoon]

sweet

osferth x warrior!reader

summary: osferth is in love with you but you are not used to receiving this much attention from anyone.

warnings; nsfw(smut), black cat/golden retriever, slight angst, simp osferth, clueless reader.

a/n: back on my osferth bullshit bcs the movie is coming n yet my fave is de@d😻

°°°

You're not exactly sure how you got to be apart of Uhtred's team. Actually that's not true, you remember exactly how.

The four warriors were being attacked by the same Danes that had owned you silver, lots of them. It was a coincident that killing them gave you what you were owed and Uhtred and his men's freedom.

Uhtred had made it his mission then, to find out more about you, wanting to make sure you weren't a spy or threat after noticing that you weren't exactly apart of the danes not christians. After deeming you harmless (at least to them) and incredibly depressingly lonely, he decided to scout you in as one of his men, like a bored man picking up a grumpy wet soggy kitten from the street.

You made sure you were paid more silver than any of the other men, insisting that you're worth more than them by your skills itself, and soon enough, you stuck with them as if you had always been there all along.

You got along well enough with all of them, letting yourself fall gently in the warm feeling of what it's like to have a semblance of a family.

Though with all the intelligence of a skilled warrior you have, you had not noticed the baby monk Osferth's obvious attempt to pursue you for 2 years now.

You admit you like Osferth more than the others. He was respectful, kind, and has never treated you less like any woman should be treated, although some would argue you barely counted as a woman.

Did you like him romantically? You can't say, making it a principle to never yourself aim for a love like that, it's just not for you.

But when the awkwardly charming warrior monk had kissed you during the festive night of Yule eve, your instinct was to immediately push him away from you, receiving a very offended expression followed by stutters I apologies from him before he scrambled away, like a dog kicked by it's owner.

The next day, you received multiple glares from Finan, and sympathetic grins and chuckles from Sihtric and Uhtred who had found this situation all too amusing.

Osferth had started to avoid you almost completely, never making eye contact and never directly speaking to you unless necessary. And it hurt you.

You should apologize, you knew that. But you weren't exactly sure if what to say, your feelings were complicated even to yourself.

It only gets worse when you found out you'll be staying with Osferth during one of your little missions. Arranged in purpose by Uhtred for sure.

When evening arrives, you notice Osferth leaving the pub early, closing himself in your shared room. You shook off your guilt and grabbed the bottle of liquor, walking away to seat yourself by the empty corner of the loud place, seeking for some peace.

If only peace could ever exist in your life.

You tipped the bottle into your mouth again, taking a big chug from it, wishing the ale would taste a little less like shit.

Taking notice of Finan from the side of your eye, you sigh loudly and cursed him out. The man only gave a humourous laugh and sat next to you.

"If this is about Osferth again, then you shouldn't tire yourself-"

"Oh this is definitely about Osferth." He agreed, receiving a groan from you.

"Finan please-" You started, rudely being cut off. "You did a number on him lad, he's been acting like someone just killed his dog and it's been two weeks." His voice was gentler than before, the worry obvious in his voice.

"I didn't mean it." Your mumbled out meekly, eyes drooping. "I didn't mean to push him away."

"Well that settles it the doesn't it?" The Irishman concluded. "Just go apologize and hump him." You snorted at his easygoing response and shook your head.

"He doesn't just want to hump, he wants to love." You clarify. "And that's so bad, why? I've seen you staring at him like he's made of sunshine and rainbows laddie, I'd thought you'd be happy to have him feel the same way."

You wince at his words, hating the sappy description of yourself that he gave. Rainbows and sunshine.

"Because it doesn't make sense does it? Of course I'd like him, he's kind, and sweet, and everything I don't deserve, everything I am not."

You speak the last word like a curse, a bitter taste on your tongue.

Glancing towards the half drunk Irish, you almost hate yourself for saying what you did, the pity in his eyes was worse than any insult you've had thrown your way.

"You carried Aelfwynn on your back while she was sick and lied to everyone about getting sick from her just so she'd have a chance to reach the royal healers, you've put yourself in front of the lady Aethelflaed to protect her more time than anyone could count, hell you've done it for Osferth more time than he could remember.

- So if you say you're not deserving of kindness and sweetness one more time, I'll make sure to hide the biggest frogs in your bathwater as a punishment."

His voice was teasing, but his eyes were set on you, narrowing down like a nagging father, and you almost hugged him there and then.

"Yeah whatever." You shrugged and look away.

You hear him sigh loudly, as if to prove a point and tried to hide your small smile.

"I should apologize." You repeated your early statement. Rubbing your face tiredly, the liquor doing a terrible job intoxicating you. "Yeah, and you should hump-"

"Goodnight Finan, I'm not listening to you anymore!" You exclaimed loudly and annoyed while getting up on your feet to retire to your small room.

The walk to your room was short but it felt like forever, standing in front of the door, you take a moment to collect some thoughts and steady your heartbeat before turning the knob open.

You feel relieved as you step in, seeing that Osferth was still awake, sitting by his side of the bed, folding in his dirty clothes.

He must've just bathed, you thought to yourself. When you walk closer you notice that his hair was damp, confirming your suspicions.

He acted as if he didn't hear you, but you know he did.

"Osferth." You called out, voice weaker than you intended it to be, almost like you're pleading him.

The silence was agonizing before he responds, you see him stiffen. "Yes?"

You hated how much more confident he sounded than you, but you were the one who owed an apology, so you force your ego aside and placed yourself next to him on the bed.

"I um- I wanted to, apologize?" There was that stuttering now. He raised an eyebrow at you and you feel your face burn.

"Apologize. Yes, I wanted to apologize." Getting your breath under control, you try to appear more put together.

His eyes look away from you and move down to stare at the floorboards. "Whatever for?" He asks, sounding uninterested.

"For pushing you away, when you...kissed me." You answer.

You were watching for his reaction like a hawk eyeing it's prey, feeling uneasy and scared. "Oh, tis not your fault, twas' mine, I should've asked." He says kindly, his old warmth returning to his voice.

"But it's not, nothing could ever be your fault Osferth, You've no foible and if anything your flaw is being too good and having no flaw-"

"Do you think you could ever love me?" He cuts you off, a demanding tone.

You turn silent from your rant, heartbeat fastening. "But why? Why me?" You breath out.

"Osferth-" You start, standing up to face his seated self. "-You could have many lovely beautiful woman to love you the way you deserve, I'm sure of it, we've all seen how they fight for you." You insist.

His face turns into a frown and he stands up along with you, face inches apart from yours. "I don't want anyone else, you're the only lovely beautiful woman I want." He snapped.

You grow frustrated at his statement and turn to walk in circles, not meeting his gaze.

"But why? I am not beautiful or ladylike- and don't tell me I'm wrong, I hear things too- and I'm not kind enough to those around me as I should be, and I am, god, so terribly, terribly horrible in my moral compass Osferth.

- Why would you want to be with someone so miserable?", You point out with a humourless laugh, feeling so vulnerable and pathetic you could break in an instance.

You feel his hands grip your shoulders to look at him as he stops you from pacing around.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to convince you that you're all I think about, you are the most beautiful piece of art to me, and to have your heart, to be able to love you the way you deserve, is all I'll ever wish for in this lifetime."

You would've asked him if he had practiced that if you weren't so shaken by those words, so baffled.

"Don't be ridiculous Osferth, what- tell me, who you'd choose between me and Eadith, or me and that redhead from last night- or the lady Aethelflaed herself?" You hated how much self pity you were drowning in, all the insecurities you've worked so hard to push down, to look past from yourself.

"You. You, you and you." His response was quick and without hesitation. You wanted to kill him for that's or kiss him, you couldn't decide.

"I would choose you over anyone because there is no one else for me, can't you see?"

He was staring at you with stars in his eyes and his breath was hot on your face.

You couldn't remember when or how it happened, but all you knew was that one if you had leaned forwards and your lips became one with eachother's.

There was no regret in yourself, letting your fans wrap around his neck whilst he moves one arm to hold you by your waits and the other cupping your cheeks.

Your fingers move to tangle in his hair as you let your mouth open slightly for your tongues to dance together.

You pressed your faces harder if it was possible devouring the taste you've been forbidding yourself to take a bite from. His arms around your back tightens and soon you feel both his hands move down to the back of your thighs and you instinctively jump to wrap your legs around him.

He groans in the kiss, palms full holding squeezing your ass. You let a rare growl escape you as you feel yourself tighten around him.

Walking you back to the bed, you don't release your hold over him even when he lays you down on the bed.

Your hands roam wild at his body, grasping at his new tunic to be taken off. He gets the message immediately, pulling away to pull it over his head before going back to sucking lips with you.

You feel his own hands wandering around your body, exploring your untouched haven. He dips his hand inside the collar of your own shirt and rips it off easily, earning a shocked gasp from you.

"Didn't think you had that in you." You joked breathlessly. He gives a small shy smile as he pushes you to lay back down on the pillow. "You have no idea how many other things you've awakened inside of me."

His lips trail down your neck, biting and sucking at your sensitive spot while his hands have their fun squeezing and palming your breasts.

You let out a wild moan, throwing your head back, your nails, trying their best not to leave marks on his back.

"Fuck you're stunning." He swears, also rare occasion. You feel your cunt clench at his words an thrusts up your hips to meet his, receiving a strained groan from the man.

Not relenting in his torture on your tits, he releases one of them to move his hand between your legs, palming your drenched cunt between the thin barrier of your underwear.

"Osferth- please." You whined, rutting againts his hand like a dog in heat.

He only uses his hands to palm you harder, bringing you to tears as you search for friction. "That's it angel, fuck my hand." He groans out, entranced by the sight of you, glistening in sweat and fucking yourself on him in all your beautiful glory.

Both your arms are above you head now, gripping hard on the furs as you grind harder on his hand, clenching on nothing, feeling your orgasm nearing.

He rubs a finger on you clit furiously and you feel yourself explode on him, eyes blurry as you cried out his name repeatedly, a prayer answered.

Feeling yourself come down from your high, your body relaxes againts his bed and your head spins with euphoria. Osferth wipes his hand off before climbing over to lay next to you.

Your head finds comfort on his chest as his hands finds home around your body. It was dizzying, what just happened. And it was most probably the best hump you've ever had, not that you make it a habit to hump around.

You glace up to meet his eyes, already gazing down at you with a small smile accompanying them. "Does this mean you've forgiven me?", You jest and his smile widens as he leans forward and kisses your forehead. "Only if you promise to let me love you." He bargains.

You feel a grin making itself known and let out an unfamiliar giggle, "You're so sweet it's nauseating."