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ashandquiet · 2 years

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Cowslip and Raindrops

Soma Jarlskona x F!Reader

Summary: After being cooped up for months, you are able to run free and wild in the meadows. A mild boar attack leads to you being saved by a gallant lady Jarlskona, and a romantic attachment blooms in the meadows of Mercia.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, a little angst, mentions of Christianity, mentions of murder

Read it on AO3

Since the arrival of spring in the shire, beautiful little blooms had begun popping up all over the fields in exuberant displays of life after the harsh winter. Even the trees had begun bursting with bloom signaling a bountiful summer harvest of fruits. As spring progressed around the sprawling estate that had been a prison most of the winter months, you ached to be free of the musty roman brick and cold stone. Your lady had begun her seclusion in the early autumn, and as spring stretched its tender wispy fingers of greens and bright colors, she neared her time of delivery.

You had been busy at work since dawn stitching extensions into your Mistress’s smocks, for all her dresses had little give around the swell of her stomach. The midwife said the baby was strong and perhaps it would be a boy, and the other lady’s maids oohed and awed at the prospect of a little lordling. Yet as you worked, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the beckoning of the season and all its bountiful glories. The anticipation of the babe’s arrival seemed to have skipped you altogether. All you could think of was the wispy wildflowers blooming in the fields beyond the manor. As your thoughts became clouded by the promise of the outdoors, there was a cough behind you, pulling you from your stupor and causing you to jab the needle into your finger. You gasped looking at the bead of crimson pooling and stuck the digit into your mouth quickly to stop the bleeding, you turned to see who had interrupted your sweet vision. There stood the head maid, her head tilted slightly as if examining your work.

“Agnes, I didn’t hear you come down,” you offered meekly, looking at the small red welt on the skin of your hand. It’s not that you feared her, Agnes was known for her calm demeanor but she was also known for her vehement hatred of idleness; daydreaming was the exact kind of behavior that would have you emptying chamber pots for the next fortnight.

“Y/N,” Agnes gave your work a long glance. “You’ve accomplished much, our lady sends her thanks.”

She picked up the bulk of your work, letting her gaze linger on the garment laying in your lap. The stitches had become noticeably looser and more haphazard, they glared as a bold indicator of when spring had begun distracting you. You braced yourself for the inevitable, but Agnes just sighed and gave you a cordial smile.

“Perhaps, it's time you took a break? I know being cooped up in this old building for so long has begun to weigh on my own mind,” Agnes suggested shifting the weight of the dresses in her arms.

You balked for a second then looked towards the window then at the unfinished work in your lap, you glanced back at the older woman. Under her headdress, her sorrel eyes had become heavy and her once-tanned skin pale and lifeless. It was as if the air of the large house had begun to suck the life from her. You had noticed it in all the women that occupied the house, most blaming it on the arduous winter.

You hesitated, “After I finish this dress you mean…?”

Agnes shook her head, “Idle hands make for tawdry work, it's best if you get some rest. Perhaps you could bring some spring blossoms to brighten the birthing chamber, and our lady could use them to alleviate the stress of her vigil.”

You brightened at the idea and moved your work off your lap, “Of course, I would love to bring her some joy.”

Agnes nodded and started up the stairs to the lady’s rooms. You watched her leave before making haste to your quarters that you shared with the other lowly ladies’ maids. Retrieving your lightest cloak and a small knife from your personal belongings to ease the work of cutting flower stems, you rushed to the doors that led to the outer gardens. The guards paid you little heed as you traipsed outside for the first time in far too long.

Immediately you felt lighter, the air outside was clean smelling, and the warm rays of afternoon sun kissed the cold skin of your face and hands. Even the chill breeze of spring did little to weigh your spirits down.

Gathering your skirts you rushed for the hole in the wall that you had gazed at through the window for far too long thinking up romantic stories of escapes and daring rescues from knights. It was just large enough for a person to ease through with a little difficulty.

You knew you could ask to be let through the main estate gate, but that meant talking to the guards that leered at you like a piece of meat. As the seasons wore on you knew they grew more and more desperate for a release of flesh, and several of the other girls had deigned themselves upon them. The thought made you ill at ease, perhaps soon you could be rid of this place. As soon as the Lady had the babe that is. It would be better to raise a baby away from the old stone building come spring and summer.

Climbing through the wall, your veil snagged on a briar and was pulled from your head letting your hair free. With a fruitful laugh, you snatched it from the vine not caring for the scratches that its thorns left on the back of your hand. You glanced at the piece of fabric and decided that it didn’t matter who saw your hair outside the walls anyway. So you tucked away into a pocket of your dress jumping down into the thick lush grass that grew outside the wall.

Venturing out of the wall's shade the season's bounty beckons you like a siren's song urging you into meadows and across fields, away from the oppressive Roman estate and into the countryside.

Once free of the walls your mind began to wander back to a simpler time. In the time before rules and rigidity you had run wild and free around the moors, a creature of the world wild and begone. Your mother had been a midwife, dealing in all the cares of women from pregnancy to affairs of the heart, illnesses, and even doing away with unwanted children. She cared for women and loved women, and the Christians killed her for it. They would likely sneer and call her a witch now, as the priest that had passed you to the Abess had.

They had cleaned you up, torn you away from everything that made you precious in the eyes of your mother, forced you into a lady’s role and now you served as a lady in waiting for a lord’s wife. “A very moral example of a good Christ-serving woman.”

You snorted at the thought, they’d never understand how much like a caged wolf you were inside. Still wild, still craving the caress of the forest in your bones, The rush of the rivers in your veins, and the songs of the land deep in your heart.

For now, you conceded, you would have to settle for the little bits of freedom you could. And if picking flowers gives you that freedom so be it.

~~~

The patch of spring bloom you had settled in seemed to stretch onwards forever, the primroses bloomed so fiercely here. Further down the rise, you found patches of cowslip and sweet violets, the fragrance filling your nose as you picked the flowers delicately from their stems. You watched as the bees buzzed about hard at work and the distant rustling of birds in the tree line made your heart swell with joy beyond imagining. You had watched a mother doe and her two young fawns cut through the meadow from a distance. The twins were both gangly small things, probably born within the week. And if the mother had noticed your presence she hadn’t been too badly bothered by it. You watched them pick their way across the open expanse and then looking towards the trees, you noticed a bright patch of light, highlighting an Elecampane plant at the beginning of its spring growth.

Remembering the herbalist knowledge passed to you from your mother, you knew that its early spring root would be a perfect allergy reliever, and as some of your fellow ladies maids had begun to sniffle with seasonal allergies this was the perfect opportunity, something you simply could not pass up.

If you hadn’t been so distracted by the spring growth in front of you, all your senses diverted by the bountiful sounds, colors, and smells you would have noticed the large boar rooting about in the shaded undergrowth, his long tusks ripping up dirt in search of treasures. You also might have noticed how dangerously close the elecampane was to his rooting patch. Yet you hadn’t, your senses dulled from the time away from the wild countryside. It wasn’t until you began tilling the damp dark soil around the plant's base, that you got the sinking feeling that you were not alone. Cautiously you raised your head and listened, there in the woodland just ahead of you, you became aware of the short heaving breaths just inches from your head. Trying not to panic you shirked away from the sound. But it was too late!

He burst forth from the dark bracken with a guttural squeal that sent the hairs on the back of your neck up. His powerful hooves tore up the elecampane plant as he launched himself at you with a vicious snarl.

You screamed stumbling backwards fumbling for the short knife you had tucked into your dress, but in the chaos, it was flung from your reach. You kicked up at the large boar reaching desperately for the knife, its metal blade glinting in the afternoon light. His large tusks cut through the skirt of your dress, tearing the flesh of your leg and you screeched in pain. He lunged back towards you, his tusk now coated in blood from the cut he made; your blood.

You felt a desperate panic fill your chest, you could not die here, could not be felled by a boar.

You gained purchase on the blade and slashed at his long snout managing a short slice to his nose. He reared back in pain, releasing a blood-curdling squeal into the afternoon air.

From the thicket another boar burst, this one seemed to tower over the first, thick swamp grass hung from its back and it heaved hot air as it charged toward you. You scattered to your feet attempting to run but your legs were forced down by the weight of the first boar slamming into you full force.

As you hit the ground the air was knocked out of you and the knife was sent flying. A vicious high pitched ringing filled your ears and you knew you were done for.

There was a muffled clamor and then a yell, a shriek of pain followed by a squeal that was cut off violently; and then there was silence save for the ringing that persisted in your ears. You didn’t dare move, you just listened. There was some delegating and then the sound of a weapon being sheathed; the ringing stopped.

The world came into focus as a gentle hand cupped your shoulder, and then a voice crooned, “Are you alright Dove?”

Lowering your hands from your head you peeked up at the figure backed by light. They were glowing, and you struggled to make out their features. They crouched and helped you sit, gently drawing your injured leg out from under your now ripped and blood-soaked skirt. From this angle you could better make out their features, it was a woman who had saved you. A Dane woman at that.

“O-Oh I’m quite alright,” you stuttered out as you watched her examine your leg.

She looked up and gave you a soft smirk, the mirth behind her storm cloud-colored eyes said what you knew was the truth; no you weren’t alright, and she knew that. And you were truly in no place to refuse her help, seeing as she had just saved you from those boars.

“What did you think a little knife like this could do to a boar that size Sweetling,” she asked as she passed you back the knife that had fallen when you hit the ground the second time.

“I wasn’t meaning to hunt boars!” You retorted feeling your face go hot. She poured a little water over the cut and dried it with her cloak and then bound it tightly with a bandage.

“That’s not too tight now is it?” Her voice was gentle as she retracted her hands from your leg, some part of you screamed at the absence of her touch. But you shook your head.

“If you weren’t meaning to hunt boars what were you doing Sweetling?”

“I was picking flowers, and I…,” you trailed off looking back at the ruined elecampane plant.

She followed your gaze and gave a knowing sigh. The boars were gone, likely carried off by her men. You had heard her delegating to someone, was she someone important? She wasn’t dressed like the bandits that pervaded the countryside, and she had an air of decorum and importance. She offered you a hand and you took it, rising to her feet she tugged you up with her. You wobbled a bit and she supported your waist with her other hand. The skin under your dress where she touched tingled with longing. You gazed up at her, finding yourself admiring her strong features, high cheekbones, and warm eyes. Her hair was a dark chestnut brown, pulled away from her face but with a slight wave, the color made her grey eyes seem lighter, and there was a wisdom about her. Some scars marred her perfect face, yet they did not detract from her handsome appearance. You found yourself wanting all at once to know how she got them and to kiss them. She must’ve noticed your staring because she raised a quizzical arched brow. You looked away.

“Perhaps,” She said softly, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I could help you find another plant like the one they ripped up?”

You blushed at the suggestion and nodded, finding yourself eager to spend more time with your mysterious Dane rescuer.

She helped you search along the treeline for more elecampane well until the sun began to set, in the end, you only managed to find one fully grown plant that you felt well enough to harvest. You were shocked when she stopped you from digging up the plant yourself.

“A lady such as yourself should never have to dig,” she purred out, making you flush. A cord began to form around your heart.

“I’m no lady,” you whispered back, showing the crescent moons of dirt beneath your nails and the scars from years of hard work. She only shook her head and took your hands in hers.

“You may not be a lady in rank, but you are a lady to me…” She smiled and gently caressed the backs of your hands with her thumbs.

Your skin once again burned at her touch and you could feel your thoughts slip away into dangerous territory. She watched your face, eyes going soft, and then dropped your hands softly. She used the butt of her axe to carve away at the dirt and then pulled the plant up by its stalk shaking the roots of dirt. She presented it to you with a smile and you nodded approvingly.

She then stood and helped you pick your way across the meadow back to where you had abandoned your harvest of primrose, cowslip, and violets, all the while carrying the harvested plant for you. You paused before bending to pick up the bundle of flowers. Once you left this meadow you might never see her again, perhaps it was better that way, you knew that the Danes lived violent lives… Or was that just a lie that the church and ruling class wanted you to believe. This woman was tender, gentle, and kind and all the while she had saved your life. You gazed up at her and she was smiling, so much softness and kindness behind her gaze.

“I…,” you trailed off feeling shy. “I never got your name…”

She cupped your cheek softly with her clean hand, her thumb brushing gently along your cheekbone. You watched her eyes feeling flush under her touch, and the cord around your heart tightened. She was looking for something, and desperately you hoped she saw that something in you.

“My name is Soma, Jarlskona of Grantebridgescire…,” Soma said softly. “And may I have your name?”

You felt yourself stiffen, you had heard of the Danes and their Jarls, she ruled a clan of Danes and you, well you were nothing but a lowly orphan turned ladies maid. Here she had traipsed about a meadow with you all afternoon, even stooped to dig in the dirt. And here she was now, holding a plant for you, her hand on your face, and her gaze expectant, waiting. You had a feeling that she would wait for your answer forever if she had to.

“Y/N…” you suddenly felt very small, yet she was still giving you her attention, she didn’t shirk away, she just smiled and rubbed her thumb again.

Her hand slowly left your face to take your free hand, which lifted to her lips and kissed the back softly. Soma gazed at you with mirth in her eyes, “Hello, Y/N… may we meet again…”

She gently laid the elecampane atop the rest of your harvest and stepped to the side, but not before giving your hand the gentlest of squeeze. You wanted to melt, you wanted to go with her, fall at her feet and beg her not to leave you. But you didn’t; instead, you just smiled and nodded and began to walk away.

You felt foolish, silly, and a bit like a girl again. You had duties now, and so did she… but couldn’t you prioritize your happiness just this once you reasoned.

So you spun around, Soma had just started to turn herself but she stopped and gave you a small smile.

“Soma! When can I see you again?” You called out across the meadow, her smile broadened.

“In two days’ time,” She called back, you could hear the smile in her voice. “In this meadow Sweetling.”

You smiled, her last statement wasn’t a question, it was an order and it made you feel weak in the knees. Bringing the flowers close to your chest, you gave a hearty nod and a small bow. Soma only grinned and gave a small wave, but that was all you needed, your heart still soared with happiness.

“You should go before it gets too dark, Dove, I promise that I will be here,” she said motioning to the sun.

You nodded, turned, and began the trek back to the looming estate, hoping to beat the sunset.

~~~

The days seemed to drag on longer than ever now, you anticipated every minute of every hour, time ever approaching when you would see Soma again.

What would you talk about, what would you do? The thoughts of Soma swam in your head as you worked. You had thrown yourself into every possible chore, just to stay in Agnes’s good graces. From the moment you made it back into the building you had been bombarded with questions, like; what had taken so long, how had you managed to pick so many, how far had you gone, and what in God's name had happened to your dress.

All the other questions were easy, but for the last, you had to lie, you knew if you were to regale the tale of the boars and the dashing Jarlskona who had saved you, you would never be allowed out again. They had views about Danes here. So you had made up some lie about falling in a ditch, snagging your dress on a particularly sharp branch, it worked well enough as everyone seemed to believe you. They had taken the flowers away to the birth chamber and you had gone to your room to rest.

That night your head had swam with thoughts of Soma, your body remembering everywhere she had touched you. The way your skin seemed to pulse at the memory made you flush. Something coiled in your belly and you pushed it down. Your ears begged to hear her croon at you again, you yearned for her secret words just for you.

Sweetling…

Dove…

Overall it had been a very restless night.

On the second day it was raining, a torrential downpour in the morning that had kept everyone inside clinging to warmth from the fires. You had set about laying down pots to catch the water that fell through cracks in the old mortar and tile roof. Every glimpse you caught of the rain weighed your spirits down. Surely Soma wouldn’t venture out to see you in this weather, which made you worry. If this weather wore on through the season would she forget about you? Your stomach tied itself in knots as you tried desperately not to think of it, yet it chewed on your mind like a dog with a bone.

And yet, the weather wasn’t the only thing bringing your spirits down. It had become abundantly clear that your mistress intended to leave the countryside altogether after the birth. The reprieve from the musty old villa that you had craved just days ago was in sight, yet now you wanted so badly to stay. Soma was within reach here, the countryside lively and full of promise. It reminded you so much of your girlhood freedom that you couldn’t desperately bring yourself to leave now. Yet duty compelled you; should you run, where would you go?

Perhaps Soma would give you a home amongst her clan, but you knew you had none of the skills that it seemed the Danes valued. Your expertise in herbs and knowledge of tinctures could be useful, but what if they saw no use in that skill? You dreaded the thought of being unwanted by her. You had known her only a short while but you yearned for her approval and praise. Craved being wanted by her in both body and soul so much you almost ached. You shook your head to dispel your thoughts, you still had some time yet to formulate a plan and there was no use in puzzling over it now.

Resting your head against the cool stone window frame you closed your eyes and decided to take a quick rest.

Come afternoon the skies had lightened along with your spirits, and the downpour turned to a drizzle. The meadows beyond were streaked with light that cut through the rain clouds. There in the light, the flowers had started to shed the water that weighed them down, and animals emerged from their shelter from the storm. You glanced from where you sat at the window, searching the large room for Agnes. She had gone up to the mistress' room ages ago, telling you all to busy yourselves with personal time. The others were all occupied with small tasks, embroidery, and mending hose, and two of the girls were busy playing a game of draughts. She hadn’t said not to go outside, and surely she couldn’t be that mad if you went out.

You glanced back out the window, who could tell how long it would be clear out you reasoned, now was your chance permission or not.

Making haste you ran to grab your cloak and snuck out into the garden. The garden was clear of guards so you ran straight to the hole in the wall, removed your veil, and ran to the meadow.

You didn’t care about your wet dress and shoes, or the way the wet grass tried to snag and pull the bandage from your leg. All that mattered was seeing if she would truly be there.

When you reached the meadow your dress was soaked through, and your hair was plastered to your face from the drizzle. You looked around desperately hoping this wasn’t all a waste; then there she was. Sitting under a tall oak just at the edge of the meadow, Soma’s head was bowed, and her hands were busy with a long object that appeared to be wrapped in leather. She was just as handsome as you remembered, and she looked much drier than you.

You balled up your skirt and picked your way through the long grass. You wanted to run to her, and throw yourself in her arms, yet your nerves kept you at bay. How would she react to you, how long had she been waiting, why wasn’t she looking up. Your stomach was doing flips, you felt hot despite the chill in the air. You were sure that the water that pooled on your skin and eyelashes could have become steam with how hot your body felt at this moment. All this just from seeing her, you felt foolish.

She looked up, all of her features brightening at the sight of you, her smile stretched across her whole face. It made you shudder with happiness, that smile was for you.

She stood and held her hand out to you, ‘It's dry under here Sweetling.”

You took her hand eagerly, they were a welcome balm against the cold air that nipped at your poor fingers. She caressed the underside of your wrist gently with two fingers as she pulled you towards her. Your stomach filled with a deep ebbing warmth, you wanted to cling to her, lay yourself bare at her feet, subject to her every whim and desire.

Soma purred softly brushing wet hair from your face, “Thank you for coming to meet me, even with the rain.”

You swallowed blushing and nodded coyly.

“Don’t be shy Dove, have a seat,” Soma cooed and gestured to the rug she had laid out on the ground. You marveled at it for a moment, such an intricately woven textile surely cost a fortune, yet she brought it out on a rainy day to cover the ground. You glanced up at the Jarlskona and she simply raised a brow waiting for you.

You sat quickly fixing your skirts and surveyed the scene. Soma’s horse grazed lazily in a patch of cowslip and clover just on the edge of the tree line. On the rug rested Soma’s shield, it was a heavy-looking thing, made of both metal and wood, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the thought of how muscular her arms must be. Soma sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her body.

“I was worried you had forgotten,” Soma teased gently, her voice full of mirth. “I’m glad you didn’t…”

You shivered at the added statement and watched as she turned towards you. Up close you could see the object she was holding was a dagger. The handle was made from what appeared to be deer antler and its sheath was the color of fresh hide stamped with the twisting sigils of the Danes. You had seen them carved into the hulls of their long boats that traveled the rivers of Mercia.

“I brought this for you, should you encounter any more boars this will surely do more damage than that sorry knife you wielded the other day,” she said, holding out the dagger for you to take from her hands.

“I couldn’t-,” You attempted to refuse, it was a beautiful gift, but what would the others say if they saw you with such a powerful instrument?

“Nonsense, even a lady should have the tools to properly protect herself,” Soma laid it in your lap. “It’s just a small gift Dove…”

You gazed down at the dagger in your lap. You couldn’t help but notice that the handle was perfectly sized for your hand, and carved in a way that it would not cause you any discomfort. You glanced up at Soma and she nodded encouragingly as if saying, “Go on, pick it up.”

It had a surprising heft to it, but the weight balanced perfectly even with it still in its sheath. Both comfortable and weighty in your hand, you wondered how to wield it properly. Soma pulled the sheath off so you could see the blade. It glinted in the light and along the spine of the blade, runes were inlaid in the metal. You rotated it in your hands looking up at her. She was watching you, a soft kind smile gracing her features that made your heart flutter. She had put a lot of thought into this gift, a small gift she had said. What did Soma consider a large gift?

She held out the sheath to you, “There’s a strap to attach it to your belt, so you never have to fumble with your pockets.”

You marveled up at her and smiled accepting the sheath back, “Thank you… It's a beautiful dagger.”

“We call it a seax,” Soma said, as she watched you slide the blade safely away. “They see much use on and off the battlefield.”

She paused for a moment, “I could teach you ways to defend yourself with it if you’d like, but I do enjoy saving you, Dove…”

You looked up at her eyes wide, your face was flush, you wanted to say; I love when you save me as well .

All you managed was a squeak that made Soma grin. She ghosted her fingertips over your hand sending a shiver up your spine. You tried to speak but your tongue had tied itself in knots and all that came was an audible gasp. Withdrawing her hand she sat back putting a distance between you again. You released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Was this all some kind of test? Every movement she made dripped with confidence, she ebbed with raw magnetic power, and oh Gods how you wanted to taste it.

Soma pulled you from your thoughts, “Have you eaten today Sweetling?”

You shook your head, you hadn’t felt well enough to eat what was offered to you this morning. Soma’s brows knit together concerned and she reached behind herself and pulled a small basket forwards, flipping the lid off. Inside was a small jug, which you learned was filled with mead brewed by a craftsman from her clan, a crescent of rich cheese, and two perfectly golden bread rolls. You felt your mouth water, since your lady had begun her seclusion the food afforded to the ladies’ maids had been meager at best, dwindling into a poor pottage and tough meat after the arduous winter. Soma must’ve noticed your stare because she held out one of the bread rolls with an affectionate smile. You took it eagerly and reveled at the smell of the fresh grains.

You sat in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company, the food she had brought, and passing the bottle of mead between the two of you for quite some time. The afternoon brightened and the bees began to flit between flowers, the smell of the earth after rain made your heart sing and you released a contented sigh.

Soma glanced at you and smiled, “How is your leg Dove?”

You looked at her with surprise, she genuinely cared to remember your injury, when all the others had simply forgotten about it. It hadn’t been causing you much pain but the bruise that had formed around the wound was a ghastly-looking thing. Lifting your skirt you moved to show her, and she let out an audible hiss at the size of the bruise.

“Have you had an opportunity to rest, Sweetling? It's dreadful to look at…,” Soma’s voice was gentle. “Have you kept the wound clean?”

You nodded, “There's not much time to rest it I’m afraid… My mistress should be having her babe any day.”

You left out how busy you'd be after the baby was born, or how you’d likely be leaving the countryside altogether. Soma gently grazed her hand over the wound and looked up toward your face.

“Then you’ll rest now…” She said softly with a kind smile.

You fell into a secure silence again, periodically glancing at your company just to make sure she was still there.

“After her seclusion, where will you go?” Soma asked, breaking the silence, she was gazing out over the meadow. You felt your stomach drop. You hadn’t expected her to ask.

There was a hard lump in your throat, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at her as you spoke, “Away from the countryside… I know that much, likely back to the home of my lady’s husband. It's far from here, we were sent away for the season because of skirmishes with Danes…”

You trailed off staring down at the knife in your lap, would this be the only piece of your time with Soma that remained when you were gone?

“I thought maybe I would stay, but I can’t protect myself, and I can’t hunt. I could live the way my mother had before me, trading and tending to the sick, but how long would it be before the Christians came to kill me just like they killed her,” It pained you to say it aloud.

You glanced over at Soma, her strong brows were knit together with a frown stretching across her features. Her eyes were stormy, the unease apparent in her body language. You gently laid your hand atop her hand in a comforting gesture, and she softened. There wasn’t much you could do, you could only hope she felt the same as you. Yet perhaps together you could better come up with a solution. You closed your eyes for a moment just relishing this moment together even if it would be your last. There was a shuffling next to you after a long moment, and you peeked your eyes open. Soma had moved both her hands to cup yours, tenderly she raised them to her lips.

“Come with me, back to Grantebridge,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You froze your eyes flitting around her face looking for a twitch, any telltale sign that she was having a go at you. She only gazed back at you, her eyes full of tenderness and affection.

“I can’t fight, I’m not skilled at anything that would benefit a clan,” You attempted to reason, but she only shook her head and cupped your cheek.

“You won’t have to Dove, don’t you worry about any of that. Please let me carry this burden for you,” Soma spoke softly, her thumb brushing along your cheek soothingly. “Come to Grantebridge, you’ll fit perfectly with my clan… with me…”

“You will have every desire in your heart Dove, should you decide to make Grantebridge your home. We have bountiful meadows just beyond the walls, and the city is a heart of trade, you’ll never be bored, my clan throws the most exciting parties…” Soma continued holding your free hand in hers while she caressed gentle circles against your cheek with her thumb. “Let me fulfill your every desire…”

Your heart skipped a beat, eyes stinging with tears. She wanted you after all, even with your faults. Her face was full of reverence and love as she waited for your answer, she was as patient as the rivers were wild.

“Truly…?” You stammered, biting back a sob.

Soma’s eyes went soft and she brushed a tear off your cheek gently, “Yes, truly, let me treat you as my lady, my queen…”

You nodded blindly, Soma gently cupped your face in her hands and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, letting her lips linger against your skin. She chuckled softly and pulled you in for a sweet hug. You clung to her embrace, heart racing and warmth blooming in your chest. She rubbed your back soothingly, her hands strong and steady keeping you from floating away.

You laughed softly wiping your nose, “T-then you’ll be able to teach me how to use the seax afterall…”

Soma looked at you a grin scrunching her features and she laughed, “As you wish my Dove.”

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