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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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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.

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happilyhertale · 1 year

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Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.2 k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Other stories of mine

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The sun, which has been high in the sky all day, is slowly tilting towards the earth. Four men ride silently side by side. Every now and then an exhausted grunt can be heard. As soon as the grunt is silenced, it is usually answered with another grunt. They have been riding like this for days now. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth are on their way from the northernmost point in Scotland back to Wessex.

The men are exhausted by the long distance they have already covered on horseback. The not very restful nights they have already spent in various forests do not diminish their exhaustion.

"Lord. We could spend the night in a village today," Finan says after another grunt.

Uhtred turns slightly in Finan's direction, "If we ride through the night, we should be in Northumbria by tomorrow"

"But Lord… We should stop and rest. I'm tired of the sight of my horse's head... his ears in particular," Osferth chimes in.

Sihtric turns to Uhtred as well, "I wouldn't say no either"

Osferth continues to nod in agreement.

Uhtred sighs, "Very well… The next village is headed for"

"We would have a place to sleep there for sure too," Finan says to Uhtred with a grin. Uhtred sees Finan's grin and becomes curious.

"Do you have a sweetheart up here?" asks Uhtred with raised eyebrows.

"Not exactly. My family lives there and we could sleep and eat there"

"What? I thought you were from Ireland," Osferth looks at him questioningly.

Finan nods, "We're originally from Ireland. But my parents moved over with me and my sister"

Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.

The men rode on again in silence. Every now and then a grunt can be heard. But it was a done deal, they were on their way to Finan's family.

You stand in front of your little house. The evening sun shines on your face and you enjoy it. You close your eyes for a moment. Your little house is located on the edge of a village, near the forest. You enjoy the peace and quiet that the location offers you, and that you can let your gaze wander into the forest at any time as soon as the hustle and bustle of the village becomes too much for you. Slowly you open your eyes again and take a deep breath. You still want to water the flower bed before you retire for the evening. As you put the bucket down, you hear noises in the forest behind you. You turn around, but in the twilight you can't really see if anyone is there. Out of habit, you reach for the dagger tucked under the skirt of your dress.

"Who is there?" you ask in a firm voice.

But instead of an answer, you only hear the rustling of the bushes at the edge of the forest.

Suddenly a Dane steps out of the forest and you instinctively hold up your dagger. You are ready to defend yourself. Your breath catches in your throat, but the Dane just grins at you. "Finan! I didn't know that your parents can also produce something beautiful", the Dane says.

Finan? How does he know your brother...?

"Aye! Lord! Shut up!", Finan suddenly stands next to the Dane. Your lungs fill with air again as you see your brother smiling at you from a short distance away.

You don't hesitate for long. "Finan!" you shout and run towards him. You throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Heey... my little one," he says softly and presses you closer to him.

You sob a little. He loosens the embrace and takes your face in his hands, "Ey... y/n.... If I had known ya missed me so much, I would have stopped by sooner," he smiles at you. You wipe tears from your face and have to laugh for a moment.

"What are ya doing here?" you finally ask your brother.

"We're just passing through and I thought we were due for a visit"

Only now do you become aware and remember the Dane. But when you look behind Finan, you see two other men standing there. But your gaze immediately falls on the blond monk. However, he immediately averts his gaze from you when he realises that he has been caught staring. Now you notice another Dane. Somehow you seem to like this mixture of the troupe. Finan turns around as well, "Sorry y/n. This is Uhtred, Sihtric and our baby Monk, Osferth"

You notice the monk giving Finan a warning look. The Danes, on the other hand, give you a friendly nod. Finan turns back to you, "Where are mother and father? Are they in the house? We are starving!" Finan is all euphoric.

You gently touch his forearm, "Finan...", you speak softly. He looks at you, but you only shake your head slightly.

"What...?" he whispers, sadness crossing his face.

"The fever took them last winter... First mother, then father..." you whisper.

He shakes his head slightly now too and you wrap your arms around him. After a short silence, you hear Finan murmur into your hair, "You're here all alone?"

You nod, "That must be enough for you now"

He just nods slowly and you can still see the sadness in his face.

You smile up at him, "Come, let's go into the house... I've put on some soup"

Together you go into the house. The men sit down at the table and you serve them the soup. There is not much talking at first, as they simply enjoy the warm meal. When they have finished, you prepare ale for everyone. Light conversation now fills the room. Osferth tries to comfort Finan, to say something nice about your parents. But Finan doesn't want to hear about it at the moment. After a while you take the dagger, which is again under your skirt and presses uncomfortably against your thigh, and put it on the table.

"Feisty... You always carry a dagger with you?", the Dane, Uhtred asks you. You look at him a little amused, "Men sometimes don't understand what 'no' means. So it can't hurt to have something with you to back up your opinion"

Uhtred grins and raises his cup "I'm afraid that's true"

You grin at him and join him in a toast.

When there is a knock at the door, you get up and go over. You open the door and your good mood is immediately dampened.

"Edward... what do ya want here?" you ask, a little annoyed. Alarmed by your tone, Finan looks at the door. From the door, there is no view of the table and so Edward does not notice that he is now being overheard by four guys.

"Y/n... I thought... maybe you'd like some company tonight...?"

He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.

"No, Edward. I told you the other day that it wasn't going to happen again"

Finan's expression darkens.

"Oh come on... Don't you miss it...?" he winks at you.

"What would she miss?"

You startle a little as Finan suddenly stands behind you. Edward looks startled too and just stammers around. Words like "nothing" and "just making sure everything is okay" leave his mouth.

"Good. And do not worry, everything is fine here," Finan lets Edward know as he closes the door.

You look at him indignantly, "Finan! I can handle it myself!"

He just walks back to the table and takes a big gulp of ale. You stand in the room a little speechless. You look at Finan and shoot daggers at him. But Finan continues to stand with his back to you and does not look at you.

Sihtric and Uhtred just grin and look at each other. But you notice Osferth looking at you again. He is probably shocked that a woman would seek the company of a man even though she is not married. You sigh softly and go back to the table. You sit down and shake your head slightly.

Finan looks at you again, "What...? You're my sister. I'll always look out for ya. And... the last time I was here, ya liked Edward, didn't ya?"

"I did," you emphasise, "Until I found him between another woman's thighs"

Osferth chokes on his ale and you look at him somewhat amused. He has to grin now, too, and he wipes the ale running down his chin with his hand. You have to chuckle a little, but somehow you like the sight.

But Finan turns your attention back to himself, "He did what? That bastard... Let me go to him..." Finan is about to get up, but you pull him down by his arm.

"No... There's no need for that. That's done and in the past. Really," you smile at him, but Finan doesn't really look convinced.

He just grumbles something to himself and drinks from his ale. You stroke his arm gently.

The later the hour gets, the louder the conversations become. You laugh a lot and talk to each other across the table. You enjoy having your brother and his friends with you. At some point, Uhtred has persuaded you to show him how you can defend yourself against men with your hands if you don't have your dagger with you. But it always ends up with Uhtred putting his arm around your neck from behind or you just giggle and somehow try to bring Uhtred down.

Eventually you sit down at the table again. You are still a little out of breath when Osferth, who is now sitting next to you, addresses you directly, "Lady... isn't it dangerous for a woman to live here alone?"

Uhtred interjects, "Well... if the possible attacker just stands still and doesn't fight back, then y/n has a chance to defend herself," Uhtred grins at you.

But you do not answer Uhtred, instead you kick him under the table.

Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.

You look at him curiously now, "Would it be safer for a woman somewhere else?"

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well... if you were at least in company... and there was no Edward lurking outside your door"

You have to chuckle a little and notice a smile forming around his lips too as it dawns on you. "Ooh yes! I'll come with ya"

Now Finan chokes on his ale and Uhtred grins again. As he calms down, he looks at you, "No way. You're safer here than being out with us"

"Finan!" you utter indignantly, but he just shakes his head.

When Sihtric speaks up, "Honestly, she's probably safer with the four of us. There's no one here to look after her"

Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.

"And if we go into battle?", Finan looks slightly overwhelmed.

"Then of course I won't be there. Then I'll cook you dinner in the meantime... Or keep the bed warm," you answer with a grin. As a sister, you know what drives Finan up the wall.

He gives you a warning look and continues to shake his head, "That's not funny... and that's out of the question"

He stands up and goes outside to pee.

Now you shake your head and stand up.

"Guys... It's late... I'm going to sleep now. This will not end well here otherwise"

Sihtric and Uhtred nod at you. Osferth smiles slightly at you, "Good night lady y/n" and you return his smile.

When Finan returns, he sees that you have gone to bed. He sighs and sits back down at the table with the boys. Uhtred's gaze is on Finan, "You know it would be the right decision. She's here all alone, and I'm sure Edward's not the only one knocking on her door"

Finan gives him a warning look.

"I'm just saying. Your parents aren't here anymore, she has no one here to look after her. And with us, she'd have four men by her side looking after her", Uhtred continues

Silence now reigns at the table as the boys continue to drink their ale. Until Finan just nods and gets up from the table again. "Okay... But if even one of ya tries to hit on my sister..." he adds warningly before disappearing into an adjacent room.

The next morning you come out of your chamber. Three men lie on furs on the floor. Light snoring fills the room. You leave the house and go into the garden behind it. Everything is still quiet, a few birds are chirping. You watch as the sun slowly rises and makes the shadows of the forest look less threatening.

Suddenly Finan is standing next to you. You are startled and flinch briefly.

"Holy Lord! Finan!", you lightly punch his arm. He says nothing, but smiles slightly. He also looks in the direction of the sunrise.

"Ya can come with us. Although I know it's dangerous for ya to accompany us... But I also have to admit that it's probably more dangerous for ya to stay here alone..."

You smile at him.

Slowly he looks in your direction, "Ya have to listen to me though"

You grin at him, "I never have Finan"

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achaoticeternal · 4 months

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bestie: what do you want for Christmas?

me: Ewan Mitchell

bestie:

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #ewan mitchell #house targaryen #michael gavey #osferth #osferth x reader #the last kingdom

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tlkfaerie · 8 months

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Ribbons ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: Finan x reader

a/n: Response to a lovely request! My first request, actually! Finally doing a solo Finan piece :) A bit soppier than I had originally planned, but I love it and I love Finan soooooo. Also the circumstance / sequence of events aren't entirely accurately in line with the events of the show but we move.

MDNI!18+ : TW finan x reader, dom!finan, virgin!reader, virginity loss, manhandling, kissing, very brief mentions of loss, fingering, p in v sex, confessions of love, slight breeding!kink

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

Things were tense when the men staggered back to the stronghold. They had won their latest battle involving Mercia and Bloodhair, though at the cost of a disastrous curse upon Uhtred's family. You selfishly prayed for Finan's safety, despite the two of you not being together. You were great friends, and though the others were familiar to you too, it was Finan that you truly wished to return in one piece.

You spent your time at home praying for the souls of those who had been lost, thinking about the wise words that Hild so graciously bestowed on you. You felt her absence more than ever, needing her sweet guidance, but aware that she was already spread thin. Everyone was.

As winter crept into your home, you wallowed slightly, missing everyone. But you had a duty, an alehouse to run. It was where you had met everyone originally, and had turned into somewhat of a cornucopia for Coccham. You knew that in order to keep spirits high, you'd have to open it up and welcome everyone in. Your hearth was where you had first met Finan, sitting with Uhtred as the two of them laughed. Hild had introduced you, and your speechlessness was the source of several laughs.

You had sat with them on the table that night, laughing with Hild, who you truly saw as your aspiration. Uhtred noticed this, joking about how you reminded him of his children, which had made you huff slightly. You were embarrassed of this, but Finan assured you that you were alright, muttering some joke about how you clearly had the spirit of a warrior within you to deal with these drunken men.

It had been a slow night, but you would rejoin them when you could, smiling at Finan every now and then. Finan's eyes had scrunched up too, but his lingering look had you blushing all throughout the night. From then on, the warriors had frequented your place. You and Finan would often sit and chat. He loved that he could talk to you. For once, it was not about war, or combat, or blasted shield walls. He was sick to death of hearing the names Alfred or Edward, and you gave him peace from all of that.

It filled you with warmth to see everyone so carefree and jolly, especially as it was your father's wish when he opened the alehouse to make an honest place of it. Every now and then, a regular face would vanish, and you felt it like a sting in your core, but you carried on nevertheless.

You lived just above the alehouse, walking down the steep wooden steps as you tried to alleviate your chill. Nothing seemed to work. Lighting candles and preparing some food for the hungry travellers that would arrive soon. You had heard news that the travelling party were returning from Winchester within the next few hours, feeling sadness at the inevitable loss and pain that would be felt all through the town, but also the deep, hidden feelings of desire that you so heavily pushed to one side.

Every time you saw Finan leave, you felt a tinge of regret within you. After all, he was Uhtred's right hand man by all accounts, and great responsibilities were often given to him. What if he were to never return? You supposed it was silly to think more of your confessions being told than him returning with his life, but you were sick of pushing down these feelings. You felt like some sort of angel when his gaze fell on you, which it did, often. And when he would come in for a final glass of ale, though what you didn't know is that he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to you.

He had seemed grave when you saw him last, trying to keep smiling at you but looking away darkly every now and then. You, none the wiser, had given him a cheerful departure, promising a full meal for him and his friends upon his return. You had assured him that the plate would be waiting for him, only if he came home in one piece. The gesture was halfhearted, though to him it was a challenge. He had left beside Uhtred, meditating upon his horse about you.

You.

Finan really, really loved you. He was always incredibly outgoing, and so you assumed he would just wed someone more like him, but Finan dreamed of you almost every night. It tortured him that he was so quick with his words, and yet they seemed to disappear from him whenever he saw you. Your plump lips, your wide eyes, full of life and unsoiled by the rot of death. You were the exact opposite of what he encountered on his missions and tasks, and though he loved his life alongside his trusted Lord, he wanted something to do it all for. And that something was you. He would make sure of that.

As both of your feelings nearly spilled over each other, it was time for someone to do something.

It seemed like you had wasted your whole day, silently waiting for the evening to come, when finally, you heard some commotion - your heart sent flashes of longing through you. You felt somewhat pathetic, watching the door of your alehouse for that specific person to come through. But, when you know, you know.

Suddenly, a stream of townsfolk walked in. Some came holding hands, some even came with their children, which you didn't mind, offering them some meat pies and ruffling their hairs. You spoke with some of the women, delighted to have their husbands back and eager to get you away to spend time with them soon. You joked about being stuck behind the brewery, handing out copious pints of ale. Within the next twenty minutes, your hands were so sticky that you started flapping them furiously.

Finally, you made your way outside, wanting to do a round of everyone sitting on the benches. There, you found Finan and Osferth. Sihtric was over in the corner, with his wife, the two of them beckoning you towards them.

Giving them quick greetings, you drunk in some of the news from Sihtric, who informed you that Uhtred was still in Winchester for some time with Hild, and that he had suffered a great loss. Your head bowed at that, not wanting or needing to know any more. You wished the both of them and their children well, before granting a weak smile to the two men now before you.

Osferth gave a weak smile, fondly remembering happier times in the alehouse and wishing he could match his previous energy. You hugged him tightly, knowing he was more sensitive and newer to the trade of being a warrior, though you didn't expect him to hold on so tightly to you. You sunk into his unfamiliar embrace for a moment, before Osferth pulled away.

And there he was. Finan. You had never seen him looking more tired, slightly long hair giving him a dishevelled look. Though equally, he was beautiful. No amount of sadness could take away the kind, observant look in his eyes. He seemed to be in his own world, and you didn't want to disturb, but then he looked at you, and the faintest smile stretched onto his lips.

You wanted Finan to hold you. You wanted his warm embrace then and there, but something told you it would take a little more time. His brows are furrowed and a strong wrinkle emerges between them, telling you that he is far from relaxed. You gulp slightly, the promise of a meal still hanging in the air.

With a hand still on Osferth's shoulder, you said nothing as you gave him an empathetic nod, tilting your head and smiling as best as you could. Your chest filled with relief when his little wrinkle disappeared. The shadows lifted just slightly, and there he was. He understood you somehow, an unspoken look flittering between you, and then you were gone.

There was so much you wanted to talk to Finan about. You ached to have your friend back, even if that dynamic did pain you. He still came to the tavern, even when Uhtred returned, though he was unusually silent as weeks flew by. Even as things picked up and spirits were back to normal, Finan seemed to be stuck somehow.

You entertained mostly Uhtred and Sihtric most nights, helping them heal ever so slightly with perhaps a little too much ale. You had even begun watering it down less, which did not go unnoticed by them. You prayed with Osferth too, mostly to keep him company.

It wasn't until a whole month had passed that you could no longer take it. Finan's usual loud voice could no longer be something of the past. You needed to tell him how you felt. You knew that you had to do something tonight.

You spent far too long in the mirror during the hour before you would open. You knew it would be a busy night, as the snow had finally ceased, and people were no longer cooped up in their homes. They would want warm drink and entertainment, and you would give them just that.

"Come on, Y/N." You nudged yourself, looping two ribbons into the two braids that you had meticulously gathered with your unruly hair, pinching your cheeks before letting out a slight laugh. You hadn't realised just how much you truly valued Finan's entire personality until it changed whenever you came near. Surely freshening up a bit would impress him?

Meanwhile, as though he was mirroring you, Finan ran his hands through his hair, sitting patiently in his own company. He had been surrounded by his loud companions all day, laughing and working, enjoying any semblance of peace that he could. The Irishman thought of nothing but you, however, and felt that if he did not do something soon he would combust into a million pieces.

Truthfully, after his last visit to Mercia, he had pulled back from you slightly. He needed you so deeply, but couldn't bear the thought of making you wait around for him, worrying if he would come home or not. There was also the additional danger of his weapons everywhere, his being at Uhtred's side constantly, and the threat of having something so precious to him be so targeted. He wanted you more than he wanted to breathe.

After that first day where you had been babbling to Hild in your alehouse, he was stunned. He was in awe of how you ran the place, even with the death of your father, never allowing anyone to step on your toes, even though he would have been more than willing to help. He admired your trust in things, never fearing of the worst, unlike he had. Since his days on the ship, all he had craved was something, anything, to come home to.

Nothing had filled that space until he saw you prancing around the alehouse, clumsily spilling drinks and shaking your sticky hands in his face to annoy him, your loud laughter echoing in his mind even now as he had tried to pull you into the mess you had made.

The memory shone in his mind, so prominent that he quite literally couldn't think straight. He didn't want to be absent towards you now, but his very existence intermingling with yours was a threat to your life, and perhaps your happiness. Could he do that to you?

As the tavern bustled into life, you couldn't stop fiddling with your braids. Some of your friends had offered to touch them up, which only worried you more, but they teased you still, pinching your cheek when you had confessed to them what you were going to do tonight.

You would your hands into the handles of at least ten cups, delivering them to the table of several hefty warriors who barely fit on your stools, making a mental note to get some warrior-friendly seating arranged.

"Here you are boys," you greeted them lightly, recognising a few, particularly Uhtred, who looked like he had seen better days. His hair was loose, strewn all over his face, but a smile graced his face, which reassured you.

"You might want to slow down, Lord," you teased, anticipating his reaction. He cocked his brow, piercing blue eyes observing you graciously. "Y/N, you're too good to me. Too good." He raised a glass to you, and you playfully rolled your eyes, a renewed sense of confidence overtaking you.

As you were about to turn around, you collided with hard leathers, belonging to a very firm chest. Towering above you was Finan. You quickly fiddled with your braid, hoping he would be enticed by them. So stupid, you thought to yourself.

"Have you forgotten what incredibly handsome men look like, or are you just surprised to see me?" said Finan, voice just above a whisper. Your eyes widened at his question, hand coming up to slap his bare arms. He hadn't been this perky in a while, and it shocked you, to say the least. You were happy to see him back to normal. Though he always carried an air of dominance with him, the softer side of him was always welcome.

There was a strange determination in his eyes, as if he had woken up. "Trust me, with you in front of me every day, I could hardly forget what a handsome man looks like." Your emboldened state of mind matched his newfound confidence, and the two of you were back to being the same people that you were when you first met. Finan forgot, just for a second, about the reek of death and its hanging in the air.

Instead, he took you in. Your fresh braids, which he suspected you had done just for him. He felt so warm, even in the bitter winter, and your eyes gazing at him as though he was the kindest man on earth brought him more security than anything else in the world.

His presence alone was enormous. You had to shake your head to remember what you were really here to say to him. He had laughed at your previous remark, taking the confident proudly.

"You look so beautiful, Y/N." he stated fondly, content to spend the rest of the night with you. Your cheeks heated at his words, and you looked away, but not before his strong hands found your chin, raising your face to meet his brown eyes once more. He simply could not wait any longer.

"You always look beautiful, and I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you aren't", he huffed, acknowledging his own mental absence. You felt the tenderness in his touch, against the rough scarring on his hands. You smiled sadly, wishing he didn't have to be treated so roughly. Your softer hands found his, holding them tightly.

"I suppose I sh-" but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a loud crash. You were quick to inspect the commotion, not realising that the two of you were still firmly holding hands. It hadn't occurred to you until his grip tightened, dwarfing your entire hand in his. You couldn't help but smile, especially when you discovered what the scene before you was all about.

Two women were having at it, fighting like animals. These were women you knew, and so you were shocked to see them go at one another, enough even to draw blood. You considered for a moment why two familiar faces would be fighting, but the two had recently mentioned their escapades with Osferth, who was a babbling mess at the scene before him.

Finan cursed. Truly, he couldn't help but laugh. Of course, this stupid baby monk would intervene in some way, he thought to himself. You giggled at Osferth's expression as the women were finally separated by Finan, who begrudgingly let go of your hand. He felt so juvenile, clinging to you like a crush, but he simply couldn't help himself.

"Umm, I thought monks weren't allowed to hump," was all he said, before leaving the poor boy to defend for himself, returning to you. As he walked over, you felt the life reemerge within him. He was smiling so much you almost couldn't take it.

"Now that's a hero," you laughed as he spread his arms out, congratulating himself. You couldn't keep yourself from moving about, however, unable to stay still in his presence. Your mind constantly filtered through possibilities of what he was about to tell you, meanwhile your own looming confession was being stuffed further and further back in your mouth. You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say to you. Perhaps he was going to tell you to stay away from him . . .

Any suspicions of his rejection, however, were entirely forgotten when both of his hands came to cup your face. The act felt so intimate that your legs almost quivered, and you braced yourself to fall over. His head leaned back slightly, and he breathed heavily, taking you in. Finan, filled with confidence, had bee brought to his knees by you. You and your ribbon braids.

"Can we talk somewhere, please. Perhaps when it's a little less busy, lady?" you understood, but couldn't help the frustration that grew within you as your conversation was prolonged yet again. You simply nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough for him, judging by his widening eyes.

"After closing, Finan, come up the stairs, I'll be in my room." You hadn't realised just how suggestive that sounded until Finan's eyes widened even more, and he cocked his head with a cheeky grin, retorting something about you being more forward than ever. You slapped his chest, mocking his childishness, though before you could fully manage to hit him, he grabbed your wrist with ease.

His arm flexed, and he quickly pulled you in, your feet stumbling to keep up with his strength, until you felt his breath on your face, and you were close enough to be touching his lips.

"Quite the invitation, lady," he half joked, but in reality, he as already counting down the hours. "I will be there, Y/N."

After what felt like the longest night in history, the last of the crowd finally retreated from the alehouse. You were itching to see Finan. Since the two of you last spoke, you had barely seen him. Uhtred was shamefully taken home by Sihtric, who you were amazed was sober. The rest of the men and women left together, and you said your final goodbyes, closing the doors. This time, however, you didn't lock them.

You trudged upstairs, tiredness hitting your body. After hours, you finally took a seat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the silly plaits that you had worried so much over. You sensed Finan's presence when there was a slight moan of old wood being pressed as he walked up to meet you. You had so much to say to him you could hardly contain yourself, rising from your sitting position.

Finan gave a polite knock, but didn't bother waiting, bending under the doorframe before returning to his natural state, giving you an incredibly sheepish look. You stuttered slightly, but told him to sit. You quickly realised that a man had never been up to your room. It was spacious enough, with a large bed of furs and enough space for plenty of candlelight.

"Please, sit, Finan." you held your hand out as if to show him the way, guiding yourself to the edge of your bed. Finan let out a small laugh at your sudden formality, bending as if giving you a mocking bow before sitting next to you.

Even though he had been the one to initiate conversation last time, you made it your mission to get there before him, wanting to get your own point across before he said anything to you.

"Finan, I have to tell you," you started, feeling an awful mist of tension heating up your body suddenly, " I just - I hate," you sighed in frustration, groaning as you could hardly get the words out. Finan seemed heavily amused, beckoning you to continue.

"I just really enjoy when you're here." Pathetic. "And I don't like it when you're gone away for weeks. And I worry for you when you're not here, even though I have faith in you."

Once you break the seal, you can hardly stop. Finan takes in every word as though it is gospel, but you hardly notice as you babble on.

"Obviously you're strong, and umm, and handsome, and you speak well enough to get yourself out of trouble,"

"Oh, do keep going, lady. I've never been so flattered." he raised a hand to his chest, feigning shyness. You glared at him, embarrassment curling itself around your neck, blocking any clear thought from entering your head. Finan quickly sensed your frustration, placing a hand on your thigh to steady you.

But that just made it worse.

"And then I think we're good, but you don't speak to me f-for weeks, Finan. And then you touch my thigh like this!" You could almost laugh at yourself, truly, "and I just want you all of the time, and I think we . . . I think we should be together."

With your final declaration out of the way, you feel a fatal sense of worry overcome your body at his shocked face. The hand on your thigh doesn't move, however. It tightens.

"Y/N," he starts, and you brace yourself for the worst, "Please, I want to be with you too. I stayed distant, because, well because I didn't want anything to happen to you. If I am with you, then I'll have something to actually fight for," he looked down as he continued, clearly stressed, "but then if I have something to fight for I'll have something to lose as well."

You began to understand him clearly. With what he had seen, particularly with recent events, there was always a risk involved. Perhaps what made him so good is that everything he previously needed to protect was always on the battlefield with him. The two of you together would be a constant source of worry for him. You could be kidnapped, taken hostage, injured while he was away.

"But, Finan, every time you've left, nothing has happened to me. I'm here, aren't I? Entirely whole."

"But it's different, or, it would be different," he stressed, hands flying up as he spoke.

"The only difference is I'd be yours. And I want to be yours, Finan."

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. His hand ran through his beard, and any semblance of composure that he had snapped when you bit your lip. Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps he was thinking about things too deeply. After all, he was an entirely competent warrior. If anything happened, he would be able to solve it.

He could barely control himself any longer, when your hand came to fiddle with the ribbons weaved into your loosening braids. You had never looked more innocent and enticing - he physically couldn't stand what you were doing to him.

Meanwhile, you took note of his chest heaving, feeling your own heartbeat gain speed. You decided to let even more out, noticing his gaze shifting to your hair.

"I plaited these for you, I thought they would impress you." The sheepish truth had you looking down, realising that the two of you had been stupidly restricting one another whilst simultaneously trying to impress one another in a hideously drawn out back and forth. Sorrows had settled, and now you wanted him. You needed Finan.

"They do impress me, most definitely," he assured you, teasing you slightly with his reaction. He found you utterly adorable, that you had done some little change to please him, "but you already caught my attention without the ribbons, Y/N."

The cross around his neck gleamed as it dangled, moving slightly as he leaned down to meet your face as you sat beneath him on the bed. The tenderness of the moment had been replaced by burning passion.

"Finan, I-"

"Say my name again."

"Finan-" You couldn't even finish before his lips crashed into yours. Everything melted away when you kissed. Every semblance of a problem disappeared, and it was just you and Finan. He revelled in the idea that you were his woman, spoiling himself with the very thought of it.

You, meanwhile, were growing incredibly impatient. The man in front of you was something else, his muscles straining as his hands trailed down to your waist and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his strong waist, arousal beginning to leak from within you as his grip tightened. He couldn't get enough of you, and he never wanted to let you go.

"I hope you know, love, that I'm keeping you forever." He smiled, adjusting you a little so that you felt the bulge of his crotch just underneath your sex, friction causing you to whine slightly. You weren't entirely sure if Finan was aware that you were a virgin, but the feeling of his body against yours prevented you from saying anything.

"Let me hear you." he demanded as he looked up at you, and thought he was still the Finan you knew, an air of seriousness had overcome him, and the words that came from him were dominating. You understood now how he managed to control armies the way he did.

You buried your head between his neck and shoulder, drooling slightly as you let out a moan at Finan's undying strength. With your undergarments pulled to the side by the stretch of his fingers, he made sure to move you up and down ever so slowly, rubbing against his crotch even more until your naked sex could take it no more.

The fabric of his trousers was an obstacle that you needed to be removed as soon as possible. Though the friction created waves of pleasure, the way he was holding you had you panting for more.

"Please, Finan, take them off." you looked into his eyes, which held an amused stare. He took your worn out image in, unable to believe how lucky he was. Any negative thought about the relationship between you two could be dealt with later, right now he had you securely in his arms, entirely fucked out without him even properly touching you yet.

You fastened your legs around his waist, which made him laugh. "You're telling me what to do now, is it?" truthfully, he would let you do or say anything you wanted. He was wrapped around your little fingers, and he knew it well.

"Love, I can't do what you ask if you continue to cling to me like a pup," he wore a toothy grin on his face, amusement growing in time with your own frustration. You loosened your thighs from his hold, and he set you down gently on your own bed. You fidgeted when you realised what would happen once his trousers were off, if you even managed to wait that long.

You watched him undo his breeches, only to around halfway, not even letting them slide down his legs before he came to you again. You leaned your head into his arm, nuzzling instinctively into his hold like some trained animal. You felt you would burst, declaring "I love you," before he could say anything else.

"I love you too, you and your ribbons." he flicked your braid with his finger, drawing you in to a loving kiss. You were slightly stunned at his lack of hesitation, any precaution having been abandoned by him. Finan felt it as well, the swell of pride that filled him as he announced his love for you, not even questioning the words. He knew them to be true, and he knew that with you as his woman, he was entirely complete.

Your next words, however, did catch him off guard.

"I've never been with a man, Finan." you confessed, maintaining eye contact with him as you waited for his reaction, worrying that he would be less eager to bed you with your inexperience. Finan tried to fight the impure thoughts as they wavered in his brain, unable to keep his hands off you as he thought of a way to reassure you without sounding too patronising, as he usually managed.

When he still didn't say anything, it prompted you to finally look away from him, wondering if he really cared about it as much as you thought.

"Hey, where's my lady gone?" he moved to sit beside you, feeling somewhat of a fool that his bulge was straining against the half of his breeches that still hung from his hips, and you with your dress bunched up so high that all he could think about were the stockings slipping down your delicate thighs. You didn't have the faintest idea of the impact you had on him right now.

He wasn't entirely sure how much more restraint he could exercise. "I don't care about that, I want to be the only man that ever gets to touch you from now on, anyway." he buffed his chest to try and make you laugh, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing, too engrossed in lulling over the words he had just uttered.

"I want to be your only woman, Finan." and with that, you kissed him forcefully, adjusting your body so that you could straddle his frame, his heavy arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you further into his kiss. His hands moved down to your ass, squeezing firmly. Your mouth remained open when he allowed them to slip further down your thigh, toying with the hem of one of your stockings. They were cheap things, made for you with the purpose of convenience, and yet he was treating them like they were pure gold.

"I don't think I'll be sharing you with anyone anytime soon, love," he managed to whisper into your ear, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly when he inserted two fingers into you, the promise of 'getting you ready for him' hanging in the air. The feeling was unlike anything you had experience, a welcome intrusion to your core. You felt his fingers curl, pushing up as far as they could go, meanwhile his thumb also occupied a space on your clit, rubbing ever so gently whenever he could to bring you pleasure.

You felt your thigh muscles trembling as you still straddled him on your knees, his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing your neck, creating his own little mark on you. Finan knew he was possessive. He had to remind himself to be gentle with you, however, removing his fingers and inserting them again, wanting to tease you slightly.

You gave a quick tug to his thick hair in retaliation, which he seemed to like as he groaned and leaned back in order to see your face. You couldn't help a satisfied grin, otherwise looking rather empty as you thought of nothing but pleasure.

"Careful there," he said, returning his attention to kissing your neck, marking it with a slight bite. His warm lips on your skin affected you in ways you hadn't thought possible. You wondered why he hadn't put his fingers back inside of you, but you felt him fidget beneath you, until his cock was fully out, brushing back and forth against your sex. The two sensations together, of his lips and his cock, very nearly sent you over the edge embarrassingly soon.

The ghost of pleasure kept pulsating at your core, his hand moving his cock back and forth ever so slowly, sometimes seeming as though he was about to slip in and then releasing altogether from you. You hated it, the absence and the longing, playing tricks with your mind and turning you into some kind of depraved whore.

"Finan, I swear-"

"You swear what, lady?" he taunted you, still not close enough as his arm adjusted its claim around your waist, your breasts squishing into his own chest as you practically kneeled over the top of him, wanting to push him down to finish the job yourself.

"If you don't hump me soon, I will personally ban you from this very alehouse." shocked at your own feistiness, you hadn't imagined Finan to take your word so literally. Before you knew it, your back hit your bed of furs, and Finan now kneeled above you, playing with himself, tugging back and forth, his hard cock so prominent you felt it would break you.

And break you it did. His tip finally breached your walls, before his entire member felt your insides. Your core was so full, so unbelievably full. The pressure seemed to build before he even began to move, and you released several short pants, biting back a moan that he seemed to want to encourage out of you as he moved his hips just slightly, his muscled core meeting your soft, pliable thighs, now up in the air, hanging from his grip.

You were entirely at his mercy, so pliant for him, and so good for him. "I hadn't expected you to listen well, and you proved me right," he started, moving in and out once, so tantalisingly slowly that you felt every curve, vein and pulse going through him, "I told you to be careful, didn't I sweet girl?"

Though he was teasing, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't move until your face lost the scrunch and your eyes opened to look at him, heavy breathing turning into moans as your impatience move.

"Move, Finan." And that was all he needed to hear, moving in and out of you with some force, his hands clamping into the soft flesh of your thighs, still admiring the stockings that you wore, reminding himself to ask you to wear them more often.

Your lips fell open in a gasp when he sped up even more, soft 'good girls' coming from his lips in murmurs. He let go of one of your thighs, letting your leg fall to the bed, while his free hand now moved to your stomach, pressing down on your core and feeling exactly where he was inside of you. He pumped so rhythmically that you began to think you'd truly reached heaven, the additional pressure applied by his strong hands becoming too much for you.

He watched your face, assessing you to ensure you were still comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way. You felt funny, a strange tingling, almost like a warning, reaching your core.

"F-Finan, I think . . ."

He shushed you, understanding what you meant. Who was he to deny such a lovely maiden what she wanted? "Just breathe, Y/N, don't fight it, sweet girl," he guided you, the pressure of his hand increasing. He maintained his pace, feeling your walls tighten and squeeze around him, clamping so hard he struggled to keep up.

"Come on, there we are," he further encouraged, and normally, you'd tell him to shut up, his words embarrassing you slightly, but you were so filled with delicate pleasure that you couldn't risk losing it. The immense pinch in your core finally snapped, and you were coming around him, pumping him for all he was worth as your arousal came to its peak. Your face made him positively weak at the knees.

"There we go," he cooed, his hand coming to your clit to stimulate you more, though you began begging him not to, trying and failing to grab his wrist in the process. You bit your lip instead, eyes all glossy and strained as you looked at your lover as though he was God. Perhaps he was, because no mortal man should have been able to make you feel so good.

"Please come, Finan." you whined sweetly, and he could never deny you as he had done before. He would listen to you if you told him to do anything, let alone come, which he did gladly, pumping you full of his seed, thinking briefly about the pups you could share. The pups that you would share.

His heart pumped ten times as fast as he bred you, vowing to be the only man to touch you ever again. His possessiveness had seemed to grow in the last hour, and he lifted you suddenly onto his lap, caressing the top of your head as you panted in unison.

"We'll speak properly tomorrow," he began, stroking your now undone hair. Your ribbon barely hung on, and you wound it around his fingers, the fabric reminding him of your sweet confession, something that he knew he would tease you about for years to come, but secretly loved, "sleep for now, love."

He stayed awake for most of the night, observing you every now and then, mostly focusing on the sway of the candlelight. He had seen his lord go through so much, and now he had something too precious to lose, he vowed that the same would not happen to him. Even if it cost him his loyalty.

#finan #finan the agile #finan x reader #finan imagine #finan smut #finan x y/n #tlk #tlk fanfic #finan fanfic #tlk finan #sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric smut #the last kingdom #osferth #uhtred

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lexyleblancc · 1 year

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Something nicer {Sihtric}

Summary: Sihtric takes care of his family during the night of a storm.

Dad!Sihtric x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nothing, unless you fear children and a simp of a man :)

Word count: 699 haha nice

Disclaimer: Not proof read, we die like men here. Also have decided to make this a little series of the TLK men being dads because it warms my heart

There had been rumors of a storm hitting, and Sihtric couldn’t be more happy that he had made it home before it hit. The nights had been getting colder, almost unbearably cold. Furs were piled high on all the beds at night, roaring fires hit in hearths to keep the chill at bay. You were curled into Sihtric’s side, your nose cold and red from being the only part of you visible under the mountain of furs you curled under. The man sucked in a breath as your cold nose made contact with his neck, making him shiver. The door to the bedroom creaked open, making the restless man look up, seeing the small figure of your youngest child standing there, holding a small stuffed bear tightly in her arms.

“Da, it’s so cold.” The little girl cried quietly. Sihtric sighed, sitting up and letting the furs pool around his waist, the cold air hitting his skin.

“It is.” Sihtric agreed, motioning for his youngest to climb onto the bed. “Lay with your mom, keep her nice and warm and I’ll go get the fires going again, okay?” He cooed softly, tugging the furs over the young girl and kissing her forehead. In your sleep you reached out for your daughter, pulling her closer to you and letting out a soft hum. Both Sihtric and your daughter let out small laughs, before the man stood from the bed and found the closest tunic he could reach.

The wooden floors were half frozen, sending shocks through him as he quickly rushed to the living room to stoke the fire before heading down the hallway to the children’s room to stoke that one as well. Sihtric almost cursed the day you insisted on giving your children the larger room with a fireplace in it, but they would always come first. He just prayed to the Gods you would be able to move houses soon, somewhere that was much larger and had a fireplace in every room to keep the family warm.

Your two oldest children were curled together in one bed, shivering under the furs while the man worked quickly to warm them. The middle child, your only son, had abandoned his bed at some point in the night to help keep his older sister warm during the night. Once the fire was roaring once more, Sihtric grabbed some of the extra furs from a chest beside the door and covered the children, kissing both their foreheads before leaving the room quietly.

When he was finally back in his and (Y/N)’s room, he smiled fondly seeing his wife and youngest child sleeping soundly in each other's arms. He slowly slid back under the covers, reaching over your daughter who laid contently between you two, and pulled the both of you closer to his shivering form.

“Where did you go?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep as your eyes opened slowly to look at your husband.

“Just fed the fires.” He told you softly, pushing some of your hair away from your face as he smiled widely. “Gave the children some extra furs to keep them warm until morning.”

“We need more fireplaces to keep this place warm.” You joked quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The walls would tend to let in drafts during the colder months, taking all the heat away when the family so desperately needed it.

“Or a nicer home.” Sihtric mumbled, his eyes growing heavy with the sleep that so desperately called for him. “I will talk to Uhtred in the morning, see if there is something we can do about the cursed cracks in the walls until then.” He promised, placing a tender kiss on your lips before leaning down and kissing your daughter's head. “Just rest darling, the warmth will flow through the house soon.”

“I’m not the one shivering.” You hummed, placing a warm hand on your husband's arm. He smiled softly, holding you and your daughter tightly as the both of you fell asleep once more.

He would always wake up at night, to stoke the fires that warmed your family, just until he could provide something nicer.

#Sihtric #sihtric x reader #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom imagine #osferth #osferth x reader #Uhtred #uhtred x reader #ragnar x reader #young ragnar #erik x reader #erik thurgilson #finan #finan the agile #finan x reader

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 9 months

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𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞

Summary: Captured by Danes as a young child, you never thought you'd escape...until you were saved by a certain baby monk.

Warnings: triggering content (past sexual assault), PTSD, flashbacks, angst, Osferth being a sweetie (aka fluff), crisis of faith, and religious talks

word count | 5.3k🤙🏻

part 1 | part 2

You didn’t remember much before you were captured by the Danes.

You were just a little thing, barely even old enough to take care of yourself. So when your family was killed in front of you, you had no choice but to be subjected to the wills of your captors. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t fight, you couldn’t scream. It was a hellish existence, demons always right behind you, breathing down your neck.

You were forced to grow up with these savages, watching them pillage and murder like they didn’t know how to do anything else. They tried to make you like them, but even as a child, your family instilled such a strong faith in you that to become like a Dane was unthinkable. And they tried to break you, so many times, almost allowing the demons following your every move get closer and closer. But as you made your way into womanhood with still no cracks in your convictions, they decided you were no good for anything but work and…other things.

Getting used almost every day by your captors was the only thing that threatened to break your spirit. They were callous, uncaring about your pain, further proof that Danes were the source of all evil and that you’d eventually die by their hands.

You were always numb; unmoving. To anyone else, you may have looked lifeless if not for the man above you using your body like you were his own personal toy.

Sometimes, you wish to be killed, even thinking about disobeying or fighting back just to have your wishes fulfilled. Most of all, you wished death upon your master. You wished to be the one to kill him. But you were only a woman, inferior, weak. But your spirit was strong, it must’ve been to survive every single torturous exchange by the hands of your master. And that was something no one would ever be able to take away from you, or so you hoped.

One day, you snapped. You actually tried to fight back, but that only got you punished so severely, you didn’t wake for days. After that, you started to wonder, if God did exist, why did He let all this happen to you? Why did He let one of his children be violated each and every day, let you be beaten and forced to do the Danes’ bidding? It didn’t make any sense. You hated Him…you fucking hated Him. You couldn't devote your life to some being that seemed indifferent to suffering. But ironically, it made your existence as a Dane’s slave much worse, now that you had nothing to hope for. No warrior of God would come to save you, no reward at the end of your life, no “well done, my good and faithful servant,” once you got to Heaven.

You completely gave in to your fate, not even bothering to fight back or argue with your masters anymore, thus, allowing your demons to take over.

As the days went on after your loss of faith, the idea of staying in the company of the Danes got more and more unbearable. As your master was using you for his own pleasure for the umpteenth time, you decided that you wouldn’t take it anymore. Taking your own life was thought to be a sin in your religion, but then you remembered, you didn’t follow it anymore. So really, you had nothing to lose.

But then, your master was suddenly pulled away and turned around, blocking the view of the culprit. Perhaps it was another man who was tired of waiting his turn.

Then you felt a splash of something wet. It was red, it stained your dress and skin. Blood. Your master’s blood, you were covered in it. A sword had been pushed through his stomach, all the way until it stuck out his back. Only when he fell to the ground could you see who killed him.

It was a young man, no older than you were. He was wide eyed in panic, his blue irises piercing even in the dim lighting of the room. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way that expressed concern that was directed towards your frozen form. He looked as though he did not know whether to help you or run away, or to cry really. “Are you alright, miss?” He asked as soft as his voice, but you didn’t know how to respond. No, you weren’t but yes, you were, now that your evil master was dead. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re safe now.”

Safe? What did safe even mean? You’ve never known what it was like to be safe, why would following this man be any different?

“My lord will keep you safe, he is an honorable man.” You looked down from the young man’s face to his chest, seeing a wooden cross hanging loosely from his neck. You could have laughed, the irony was not lost on you, of course. “You don’t have to, of course. But…you’re bleeding. Please, let me help clean your wounds, at least.” He was…giving you a choice? You’ve never been allowed a choice before. He cautiously held out his larger hand towards you, his innocent pleading eyes almost mirroring yours from a long time ago, whereas now yours were blank and cold from years of torture. But seeing his seemingly caring expression, you figured it couldn’t get much worse. Everything horrible that life had to offer had already been done to you.

You were surprised how warm his hand was as you shakingly reached out to it, every other hand that has touched you always so rough and cold, but his weren’t. “It’s okay…” He spoke so softly, you almost had to strain to hear him. You were like a baby deer, him being so afraid to spook you, but he just didn’t know you still had a death wish.

When the Coccham squad came across your little village, it was chaos. Danes, killing and assaulting each other, they had only heard horror stories about places like these villages. Danes weren’t normally like this, Uhtred could attest to that. Danes took care of each other, they never would kill one of their own without reason. At least, that’s how Uhtred saw it. This village you were in, there was no saving them. They had encountered a few Danes from your village on the road, and friendly they were not. They had killed one of Uhtred’s men, and he wouldn’t let that slide.

There were many slaves in the village, you being one of them. Uhtred and his team snuck in and killed every Dane they could find, freeing every slave in the process. Osferth had grown more confident in his fighting skills, didn’t cry every time he killed someone, and the thought he’d be helping people in the process made it easier. Uhtred didn’t feel he needed to be babysat anymore, he trusted that he could take care of himself. So everyone split up throughout the village to cover more ground, and it must’ve been some sort of luck or divine intervention that Osferth found you.

Osferth wasn’t completely naïve anymore, having more experiences with Uhtred’s team in the couple years spent with him than his whole life of being a monk. But when he came upon you being violated by your master, the first thought that went through his head was how could someone do that to someone else? Anger coursed through his veins, an anger that he’d never felt before, a dangerous anger that scared him. For the first time, he felt pleasure in taking someone’s life. The filth that was rutting against you deserved the most painful death anyone could possibly imagine, but Osferth just wanted to save you as quickly as he could, thrusting his sword into the creature’s chest. He didn’t even have time to savor the moment, wanting to make sure you were okay.

You were bleeding, wounds and bruises all over your body. But what was most concerning for Osferth, was the fact that you didn’t seem bothered at all. There was no light behind your eyes, like you were alive but not really living. Which makes sense considering all you must’ve gone through over the years. He didn’t want to scare you, speaking as softly as he could without being inaudible. But you didn’t flinch, not even when he reached out to you. You took his hand without question, and Osferth didn’t know if he should’ve been relieved or even more worried.

Osferth brought you to a secluded part of the village, where no dead bodies could be seen. You’ve probably seen worse, but he didn’t want to subject you to any horrors, even if those dead bodies brought you just as much harm as the man he killed himself. He sat you down gently, near a water well, using the cool water to wash away your master’s blood that mixed with yours.

You didn’t speak as he helped soothe some of your wounds, and he started to wonder if you were mute or simply too traumatized. “I am Osferth. What’s your name, miss?” He asked, breaking the tense silence. But you didn’t answer, staring ahead despondently. Osferth smiled weakly, slightly shaking his head. “That’s alright. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready.” If you were ever ready, that was.

Osferth led you to where they set up camp just outside your village, sitting you down outside his tent next to a fire to warm you. You looked slightly worried at the man that was cleaning blood off his weapons, but seeing a similar cross around his neck, you didn’t feel you needed to run or fight. “This is Finan, he also helped free your village.”

“Why’d you bring her here?” Finan asked.

Osferth blushed. “I thought…she could travel with us, if she has nowhere else to go. Or if she wants to.”

Finan scoffed a laugh. “Did she tell you she wanted to?” But Osferth stayed quiet. “Uhtred will not be happy about another mouth to feed.”

“Uhtred will understand.” Osferth insisted, not leaving any room for argument, forcing Finan into a begrudging silence.

Suddenly, Osferth heard you let out a panicked gasp, whimpering and pulling out of his delicate grasp. He looked behind himself where you were staring, seeing his lord Uhtred. “A Dane…” You trembled fearfully.

“No, no, no, that’s my lord, Uhtred. He’s not gonna hurt you. He’s a good man.” Osferth tried to reassure you, but your fearful expression didn’t change.

“Osferth?” Uhtred spoke, looking back at you in curiosity.

Osferth placed you inside of his tent and went to Uhtred to push him away to speak with him. “I’m sorry, my lord. But I feel it is best if you don’t let her see you. She’s terrified of Danes.”

“You know I’d never hurt a woman.” Uhtred hissed, offended.

“She…her master was assaulting her when I saved her.” He whispered, Uhtred’s expression darkening. “Please just, let me take care of her.”

“Osferth, I’m sorry, but she’s not our concern. We have to travel back to Coccham and-”

“In all respect, my lord, I don’t care. I wanna help her…okay?”

Uhtred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Osferth, fine. But she’s your responsibility.”

“...thank you, lord.”

Osferth grimaced when he saw you flinch when he entered his tent, carrying a bowl of hot soup. “My lady,” He kneeled down beside you, holding out the bowl, “you must be hungry? It’s not much, but it’ll push the hunger pains away for a little while.”

You took the bowl wordlessly, closing your eyes in contentment at the taste. “Thank you…” You whispered, trying your best to give him a weak smile. “For saving me.”

Osferth couldn’t help but blush under your grateful gaze, a bashful smile gracing his own face. “I was only doing the right thing, miss.”

You didn’t speak much throughout the journey back to Coccham, only thanking Osferth whenever he brought you food and drink. Nobody pushed you to talk, knowing only what Osferth told them was enough to try to give you your space. But in the rare times you did speak, you never spoke to anyone except Osferth. He figured it was because he was possibly the first friendly face you had encountered. He saved your life, perhaps it formed some sort of attachment.

Osferth could tell him getting you to join them was a bit of an annoyance to the rest of the group, and the fact you only ever responded to him didn’t make matters any better. But he wanted to make sure you were okay, he wouldn’t be a good man if he just left you back at the village. Though, he felt ashamed, but he kind of liked that he was the only one you spoke to. He decided you just needed some time to get adjusted to a new free life, and maybe a few weeks in Coccham would give you some comfort.

You never expected you’d get to share a little home, having been used to just sleeping on a dirt ridden blanket on the floor, or even having been forced to sleep in a barn with the animals. So that fact that you had your own bed, it brought tears to your eyes, reminding you of a time when you were with people who actually cared about you. Perhaps Osferth was trying to be that for you again, though you didn’t know how you felt about sharing a house with him, even if for a time until your own house was made should you choose to stay.

Even though you didn’t have much, you found yourself unpacking what little you had and placed the various things around your new room just to distract yourself. You never had a room to decorate before, you immediately thought of plants, flowers that could survive in the winter. Pansies, which you remembered being your mother’s favorite.

You looked down at your hand, clutching the only thing you had left of your family; a small amber gemstone. You had done everything you could to keep this with you over the years, hiding it from your masters where they would never find it. But now that you’re free of them, you have no use to hide it anymore. You thought it would look nice on your own small mantel in your room. Turning around towards your mantel, you froze when you saw Osferth standing in your doorframe, leaning against the wall. “Settling in okay?”

You nodded meekly. “Yes.” You whispered, ignoring the nerves in your gut and walking to place the amber on the mantel, unwanted tears coming to your eyes at the sight, wiping them away before they even had a chance to fall.

“May I ask what happened to you, miss?” Osferth asked softly, but immediately regretted it when your face fell. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Please, forgive me.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright…it’s natural to be curious, I suppose.” You paused, clearly contemplating the right action before a pained expression came over your visage. “I’d prefer not to speak of it…” You sighed heavily.

“Of course…I’ll leave you to it then.”

You didn’t know why you had a pang of disappointment when Osferth left, his presence somehow more comforting than when you were alone. You chose to ignore it. Though, it seems like Osferth himself had trouble staying away from you. Whether it was just checking up on you or simply wanting to be in your company, he was practically attached to you from the hip. You still had issues talking to anyone else, Osferth would help you get your point across whenever you needed. Despite his lack of personal space, you were thankful for him. He never let anyone push you to speak, or even try to talk to you without your permission for that matter. He was a bit overprotective, but you’d never experienced it before, or at least haven’t in a long, long time. It was nice to feel cared for, even if you still had difficulty trusting said kindness.

For Osferth, he fell for you pretty quickly. Despite having matured much in Uhtred’s company, his heart was still prone to a sort of childlike wonder and optimism, certain traits like those often getting him picked on by his friends. Though, Osferth never wanted his heart to harden like the company he kept. He never wanted to be a brooding pessimist like his lord, nor use sarcasm as a defense mechanism like he’s seen Finan or Sihtric do so often. He was always taught to be kind to others, not to judge as that’s the Lord’s business to judge. Those traits instilled in him from birth, it was no wonder he always fell fast and hard.

Osferth thought he had been in love several times, from women he had one night stands with to women who politely smiled in his direction…another thing he got picked on about. You were no exception. As soon as he laid his eyes on you, even with the circumstances, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And that opinion never seemed to lessen in its sincerity, in fact, it seemed to deepen the more he spent time with you.

The more time you stayed in Coccham, the more your true personality started to show. Now that you weren’t fearing for your life constantly, Osferth noticed you had a decent sense of humor. You would understand his jokes and chuckle at them, still too shy to allow yourself a full belly laugh, but he was more than content with what you managed to give him. Every giggle you made always caused blood to rush to his cheeks…and a little other places, though he felt guilty every time it happened. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.

Osferth attempted to hide his shock when one day you approached him, asking him to teach you how to defend yourself, but his eyes widened despite his attempts, causing you to shy away but he didn’t let you. He was elated that you wanted to learn, and in all honesty, Osferth would feel a lot more at ease if he knew you could defend yourself.

Osferth still wasn’t the most skilled at combat, everything he learned from Finan, so he figured the Irishman would be the most qualified for the job. But soon into the session, he realized it was the worst idea he had ever had. Finan was serious about combat, never taking it easy when teaching Osferth, he didn’t know why he thought he would be gentle with you. He seemed to overwhelm you pretty quickly, knocking your training sword out of your hands with ease, just to tease you, which you obviously didn’t appreciate. Finan was prone to being a bit aggressively playful, which is tolerated and even enjoyed by some, but it was not what you needed at that moment. Every parry by Finan, who had a constant smirk on his face, seemed to upset you more and more…until something seemed to snap in you.

The dull sword shook in your hands, a feeling of overwhelming panic washing over you. You couldn’t tell why, you were in a safe environment where you knew no one would intentionally hurt you, but as you watched Finan attempt to strike at you with his own sword, you only saw your former master.

You blocked Finan’s blow out of pure instinct and fear, but he only saw it as that you were learning, earning praise from him. “Good.” But it wasn’t his voice, there was no accent that resembled Finan’s at all, nor pitch. It was him. Could you never escape?

Fearfully, like a cornered animal, you swung at the man wildly. No technique or thought behind the blows, all you wanted was your sight to be rid of him. You sobbed and screamed, desperate to escape, desperate to kill. But the man kept evading your blows with ease, mocking laughter filling your ears, spurring you on further in a rage. You felt your blade hit something, and an almost feeling of relief washed over you, but it wasn’t enough. You barely could sense your surroundings, up until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

Osferth was frozen as he watched the interactions, unsure of the best decision and terrified of making the wrong one. It was clear you weren’t there anymore, not really, your mind forced back into the state you were before you were rescued, but no one else clued in on it. Not even Finan, who he figured was just playfully excited that you were being more aggressive, making the training session all the more worthwhile. But Osferth saw the frightened look on your face, immediately telling him that something was wrong. He finally made a move when you had almost connected your blade to his neck, if it had been a non-training sword, would have the capacity to cut Finan’s head clean off.

Finally, Finan seemed to sense something was wrong too. His laughter stopped and his expression fell, realizing that you were actually trying to hurt him. He hesitated for the briefest moment, but that was enough for your sword to actually connect to his body. The dull blade hit his shoulder, your fear seemingly amplifying your strength, making Finan fall on the cold ground. “Hey, hey, hey-!” Finan started to shout in a panic as you surged forward, your sword raised above your head, prepared to strike. But Osferth came to Finan’s rescue, and yours too.

Osferth wrapped his arms around you, ripping the sword from your hands quickly to prevent further injuries. You flailed about, screaming to the top of your lungs, demanding he let you go. But he knew he couldn’t, not when you were like this, a danger to others but most of all, yourself. All he thought to do in the moment was whisk you away, back to your shared home. “I thought this was only supposed to be training, lass, not an actual fight!” Finan called out angrily.

“Don’t.” Osferth called out sternly, shocking the Irishman and the rest of his friends.

Osferth tried his very best to use soothing words to calm you down as he walked you back to your home, guiding you to your bed and repeating that you were safe. Whatever you think you saw wasn’t real. Once you realized you were indeed safe, you clinged onto Osferth, your arms tightening around his shoulders, not allowing him to leave your side, not that he ever wanted to. He’d stay by your side forever if he could. But you settled, slowly releasing him from your grip, your expression bashful and ashamed; Osferth could already tell where your mind was at.

“I don’t know what happened…” You whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I was fine one moment and then…” You whimpered, huffing angrily, willing yourself not to burst into tears again. You relaxed again slightly when Osferth ran a soothing hand up and down your back, his presence more than comforting. He started to feel…like a safe space. “I kept seeing him…in my mind’s eye. The image wouldn’t go away and I felt like I was back in that village, back in his house and forced to-” You quickly cut yourself off, not sure if you were even ready to say the words out loud.

Osferth shook his head, grabbing a hold of your hand and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to say any more.” he reassured. “You’re safe here. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, not while I’m still breathing. One day, all those memories will become so distant they’ll be like a dream. It won’t hurt as much anymore. Time heals all. You’ll see.” Your gaze was so transfixed onto him, Osferth thought the skin of his cheeks would burst from all the blood that rushed to them. His own gaze fleeted from your eyes to your lips, over and over again on a loop, his own lips tingling with the thought of how easy it would be to just…lean forward and make that connection.

But no, Osferth respected you too much. He’d never push your boundaries, nor with anyone, but especially not with you. He tried to ignore your confused expression as he quietly excused himself, stating that you should find rest, leaving your bedroom in a hurry, retreating to his own room to steady his rapidly beating heart. Maybe it was a mistake to have you living with him…

Even after your first lesson not going the way you planned, you still wanted to learn to fight. Finan, unsurprisingly, was more than hesitant to teach you again, so it was up to Osferth, not that he minded. He let you take a couple days to gather yourself, recover, for it was best to train with a clear head. Unlike Finan, Osferth went more easy on you, giving you a fair challenge but not babying you. You seemed to have more fun with Osferth’s training style, a determined smile on your face never falling during that first lesson. He figured you appreciated his style, but you just loved being around him regardless of the situation, not that you’d ever admit this. Not yet, at least. And slowly but surely, over the course of a couple weeks, you felt you’d be able to handle yourself with a sword. The feeling was empowering, knowing you’d be able to fight and hold your own. All thanks to Osferth.

You still had much to learn, but you just had to thank Osferth for all he had done for you. After a training session, he looked so…pretty. Sweat beaded his brow, his chest expanding with each deep breath he took, a proud smile on his face at your progress. You didn’t think before you kissed his cheek, a shocked expression coming over your face as well as his. You almost regretted it until he grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with pure joy, making your heart warm. “Thank you, sweet Osferth, for everything.”

You had finally started to find some semblance of peace with your life in Coccham, mostly because of Osferth. Most of the time, you were content, spending time training with the baby monk being the highlights of the day. You just wished it was always day. You wished the sun never set and the world was never covered in darkness, you started to despise it. You realized that nights were the worst.

Every shadow you might’ve seen, or any twig that snapped under the pressure of various wildlife that were roaming their woods, it always startled you, pushing you to the verge of a panic attack. You felt so vulnerable in the darkness. Constantly. It didn’t help that the company you kept didn’t even try to keep themselves out of trouble, if anything they went out of their way to find trouble. While that might not have been exactly true, your traumatized mind found the extreme in everything.

You could scarcely find sleep with tossing and turning in fear and paranoia that your master would rise from the grave to steal you away again. You’d always finally find sleep once the sun had already started to rise. It was frustrating, you were angry that your mind still tormented you so. You were free now, so why couldn’t your mind comprehend it?

You knew you were fitful in your sleep, whenever you managed to find it. But no one had ever mentioned you making much noise when traveling back to Coccham, until one night.

Even after staying in this new town for over a month now, you still had such bad nightmares in the form of embellished memories, your subconscious making them seem even worse. One particular nightmare had you gasping awake, a scream escaping your mouth as you sat straight up in your bed in a cold sweat, your heart beating so fast you thought it would stop.

Osferth had heard you from across the little house, immediately brandishing his sword to frighten away or kill whatever or whoever dared to hurt you. But unfortunately, Osferth’s sword couldn’t scare away your own mind. “My lady?” He asked, panicking at your state.

You were hysterical, unable to even say more than stuttering apologies. Osferth went straight to you, ignoring the boundaries he set for himself just for you, bringing your shaking frame into his arms to try to soothe you, cooing comforting words in your ears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay now, sweet girl. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“Osferth…” You spoke in broken sobs, leaning into his touch while your body heaved with the pain of your memories.

“I’m here, love. I’m here.” Osferth’s heart broke for you, just imagining what you might’ve gone through to have nightmares that elicited such reactions from you. It also brought back that similar dangerous anger that rooted itself deep in his heart, making him hold you tighter, his expression hardening and willed anyone who was curious to keep away lest they wanted to be up close and personal with his fists.

After a few minutes of crying onto Osferth’s chest, your body finally started to stop shaking. “I’m sorry…bad dreams.” You stuttered, even though they weren’t just dreams.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my lady. I can’t imagine…” Osferth sighed, choosing not to finish that sentence. “I hate that you are troubled so. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” He moved to pull away, to fetch you water or whatever you so wished, but he was surprised to find you didn’t want to let him go.

“Can you…stay with me?” You asked timidly. “I’ve learned I don’t like sleeping by myself.”

Osferth’s expression softened, settling himself back beside you, placing an arm over your shoulders to pull you to him gently. “Of course, my lady. I’ll always stay with you, if that’s what you desire. Now, try to get more sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake. I’ll have no harm come to you ever again. I swear on the cross.”

You looked up at him, your eyes heavy with exhaustion, but no sleep could come to you when you had so many questions. “Why are you so kind to me? You don’t have to be, but you are.”

Osferth blushed, smiling bashfully. “It’s the Godly thing to do, miss. Treat others that way you’d want to be treated.”

You frowned. “I’ve never been treated with much kindness throughout my life.”

“It shouldn’t have been that way. You deserved kindness and respect, much like anyone else. But the fact that you yourself are still kind and respectful, despite all you’ve been through, is a testament to how strong you truly are, my lady.” Now it was your turn to blush, hiding your face from his view by cuddling into his chest.

“I don’t feel very strong most days, not with my mind so…shattered.” You sighed, fiddling with the cross necklace he wore. “How do you keep your faith, Osferth, when you’ve seen so much death and cruelty in the world?”

Osferth frowned. “I will not say it isn’t difficult, my lady. But all of this has to have some meaning, doesn’t it? If there is no reward after death for our good deeds, why do we bother at all? My faith remains strong because of all the good I’ve seen, in spite of the bad. The ability to be kind towards others, to show empathy, to protect the ones you love…those are all Godly things, innit?”

Osferth shifted, moving to sit up, you moving with him with a curious expression decorating your features as he removed his cross. “Here,” He placed the cross around your neck, the feeling of rough callousness of his fingers along the sensitive skin making gooseflesh rise along your body, “I want you to have this, my lady. Perhaps, let it be a reminder that there is good in this world, even if some days it doesn’t feel like it.”

You didn’t realize it until right then, but you were in love with Osferth.

Don't worry, there's gonna be a part 2. I wouldn't do that to y'all🥰 next part is gonna be even more angst and some smutty smut, so if anyone wants to be tagged for that, just let me know💕

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom osferth #osferth the last kingdom #osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x fem!reader #osferth x f!reader #osferth imagine #osferth tlk #tlk osferth

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icarusignite · 9 months

Note

Hey,

Could you imagine doing an Athelstan x reader. Where the reader is the daughter of Sihtric.

Maybe the reader could be the first child of Sihtric and his first wife (I know he only has one but his wife from the series could be the second). When his wife from the series met him, he left the readers mother and got together with his new wife. Unfortunately, the readers mother died shortly afterwards.

The reader's world collapsed but she still has her best friends Athelstan and Sophia, who is Finan's daughter. (I just like the name Sophia, I hope it's okay that Finan also has a daughter in this story. Of course you can change the name)

It would be cool if sihtric's new wife doesn't like the reader because she looks like her mother.

(So she is almost the evil stepmother, but the siblings are sweet)

Of course, Sihtric loves his daughter the reader more than anything but the reader distances herself because she blames him and his new wife for the fact that her mother is gone. Maybe she could also be jealous that sihtric also spends a lot of time with his other children and his new wife, because normally it was always only her and her father against the rest of the world.

Athelstan and the reader have always had feelings for each other. They didn't want to tell the other because they were afraid to destroy the friendship.

Sophia and the reader are like sisters, the two are inseparable and do everything together. When the reader was getting worse and worse, because she became more angry because of her father and their relationship got worse and worse, Sophia made a suggestion to go away. Sophia and the reader are both shieldmaiden and always wanted to travel over the world and make a name for themselves. Even if it is difficult for both to leave their family and Athelstan behind, they go away. Sophia, of course, finds it difficult to leave her father because she has no problems with him, but for the reader she would do it.

When the fight for Bebbanburg takes place after years and Sophia and the reader hear about it, they come to help. The two have a great army. The warriors and shieldmaiden wanted to follow them because they were impressed by their fighting skills.

In the end, there might be a conversation between the reader and Sihtric and that she tells him how she feels. And of course, Athelstan and the reader confess their feelings to each other, which became even stronger than they were not together.

I'm sorry it's so long but I wanted to write down all sorts of thoughts I hope you like it.

Your reader

Go ahead and cry, little girl

A/N: Heyyyyy, I am back from the dead. I am SUPER sorry for the massive delay. I've just been off Tumblr for a bit, but I am back. This is quite possibly the longest oneshot I've written so far lol. The Aethelstan bit doesn't quite start until the end but I do like how it turned out and I hope you like what I've done with your prompt <3 (could you tell that I was listening to Daddy Issues on repeat while writing this lmfao)

Disclaimer: I haven't watched the TLK movie (and I've been avoiding spoilers lol) so I have no idea what Aethelstan is like in that one, this is just based on what I know about him in season 5. Also, I was super done with this story by the time I was done with it so it's not really proofread. If you see any typos feel free to point them out so I can fix them lol, or just enjoy it as it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word Count: ~8k

Pairing: Aethelstan x Reader.

The air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine and earth, invigorating the senses. In the heart of Rumcofa, a small clearing had been transformed into a makeshift training ground. Sihtric Kjartansson stood in the middle of the clearing, his battle-worn sword resting on his broad shoulder. Across from him stood his young daughter. Although you were only a young girl of seven winters, your hands tightly gripped the wooden sword in your hand as you stood tall, shoulders set and feet wide apart as you tried to copy your father's stance.

"Hold your sword higher, bend your elbows," Sihtric called out, circling you, and gently nudging you to correct your stance.

"Yes, Father," you nodded.

Once Sihtric was satisfied with your pose, he turned as if to walk away, only to lunge forward, swinging his sword with calculated precision. Your training sword met his attack, weapons clashing with a resounding thud. Father and daughter moved in harmony, your steps an intricate dance. SIhtric would feign an attack, allowing you to then parry and counter, your small frame mirroring your father's every move.

As the training session drew to a close, a beaming smile stretched across Sihtric's face, as pride swelled within him. He extended a calloused hand and ruffled your hair, affectionately mussing it.

"You fought well today, my little shieldmaiden," he grinned.

"Thank you, Father!"

The sounds of whoops and cheers filled the air. You turned your head toward the two children standing on the sidelines, watching you with keen interest as they clapped. There was Sophia, with her fiery red hair cascading down her shoulders, bouncing on her toes as she waited for you to approach them. The mousy-looking boy standing next to her, Aethelstan, rolled his eyes but his shy smile as he met your gaze gave him away.

Once you were within a few paces, Sophia launched herself at you with a squeal of delight, throwing her arms around you.

"You were incredible!" she crowed. "You'll soon be even better than Aethelstan here."

Aethelstan scoffed, "She still has a long way to go before that."

You rolled your eyes, "You know I can kick your arse right now if I want, right?"

"Cannot!"

"Can too."

You stuck your tongue out at your friend, and he returned the gesture, causing Sophia to laugh.

Sihtric cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, "Alright, alright kids, off you go. The hour grows late and your parents must be expecting you home."

"It's alright, Father knows where I am," Sophia responded cheerfully.

Sihtric chuckled, "Yes well I don't know about Finan, but Eadith will surely have my head if I don't send you back before dark. Off you go, you can see each other tomorrow."

Sophia gave you one last hug before departing, and Aethelstan settled on a wave of his hand which you mimicked. After they had gone, Sihtric took your hand, gently leading the way toward your own home.

"Did you see that, Father? Aethelstan denies it but I could definitely kick his ass, couldn't I?"

"Language, little one."

"You use it all the time Father."

"Ah yes, but you know your mother doesn't like it when you use words like that."

"Your mother doesn't like what?" came a frail voice from the doorway of your house.

You looked up to see your mother leaning against the wall, arms crossed and an affectionate smile playing on her lips. There were shadows under her eyes and her skin looked sickly pale but at least she was well enough to get out of bed today.

"Mama!" you let go of your father's hand to rush up to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face in her warm dress.

Your mother laughed, "And what was my mischievous girl up to today, hmm?"

"Father is teaching me how to spar. He says I'm getting better every day!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes, she is," Sihtric came over to wrap an arm around your mother's shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She smiled and leaned against him with a sigh.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"A lot better now that you're both here. Eadith was here earlier. She...she says that..." your mother sent a cautious glance your way.

"What did she say?" Sihtric prompted.

Your mother was quick to flash him a reassuring smile, "Nothing too noteworthy. All is well."

"If you say so."

"Now go wash up, both of you!" your mother laughed, pinching your cheeks and gently pushing Sihtric further inside the house. "You both smell awful!"

"Mother!"

"You know I love you darling, but you need a bath."

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

You had never seen your mother this angry before. Her rage was a tangible thing, large and looming as she raged. The object of her wrath was your father, who stood there in your mother's room, eyes steeled with determination, even as she threw things at him.

"I-I can explain," Sihtric began, his voice faltering as he ducked to avoid the book she threw at his head.

"Explain?" your mother roared, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Is there any explanation for such treachery? After all these years of devotion, I am met with betrayal?"

Her normally gentle demeanour was replaced with a fiery fury that demanded attention. Her throat was raw and her voice cracked. Her eyebrows furrowed, knitting together in a mixture of anger and disbelief. The delicate curve of her lips, once known for only speaking words of grace and tenderness, contorted into a stern line, a testament to her righteous fury. Her complexion was paler than usual, and all colour drained from her face as tears streamed down, betraying her vulnerability.

You watched your parents argue from the doorway, eyes darting between them. Your hands clenched, nails digging into your palms hard enough to leave marks. You would have much rather left to be with your friends, but you stayed because you worried for your mother. Your parents were not the type to fight, not explosively like this anyways. Sure they had petty arguments, they were human after all, but those were always resolved soon after, with your father bringing your mother flowers and an apology that would coax a smile from her. You worried that they might not recover from this, and if they did not recover, you wondered how your mother would even survive it. She was already so weak. These were the thoughts that consumed you, as you watched silently. You did not even dare entertain the other thoughts that whispered at the edges of your mind, thoughts about your mother's allegations against your father.

"I offered you my love, my trust, and this is how you repay me?" your mother continued, her voice quivering with emotion. "You have shamed not only me but our entire family!"

"Listen-" Sihtric tried again, avoiding her eyes in shame.

"No you listen! If you wanted to be free to hump all the whores you liked, you shouldn't have married me. Now go. Go back to your harlot and do not let me see your face here!"

Sihtric's eyes widened with disbelief, "You...you do not mean that."

"Oh, I mean it with all my heart."

"It was a mistake. I swear it was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't."

Your mother's voice cracked with grief as more tears flowed from her stricken eyes. She suddenly rushed up to her husband, grabbed his chin with surprising strength and wrenched his face up to meet her gaze.

"It was not a mistake," she hissed. "You have already dishonoured me enough, do not make it worse by lying to me as well."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," was all he said, his voice small.

Your mother's hand fell away and she took a trembling step back.

"What was it then? What was it about me that was not enough for you? Was it my sickness? I admit that I have not had much energy for anything these past few months but-"

She was then unable to finish her sentence, a choked sob escaping her lips as she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle it.

"Was I so awful that you had to seek out the company of another woman? Did you find my company that repulsive?"

"That...that's not true..."

"Get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see you again!"

Sihtric opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand, silencing him. His shoulders slumped, and with tears in his eyes, he turned away from her. He brushed past you on his way out and something in your heart cracked just then. You had to stop him somehow, you thought to yourself. You had to fix this. You had to fix them.

You sprinted after him, stopping him just as he was about to step out the door, tugging on his hand.

"Father..."

Sihtric's eyes softened as he took in your forlorn form.

"I-I'm sorry darling."

"Father, don't go. Please, please, please, don't go," you tugged on his hand more insistently, eyes beginning to well with tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologize to her. Please, just apologize. Say you didn't mean any of it. She'll forgive you, I just know she will, she loves you. Just, please don't go."

"I...I can't, I'm sorry."

"Is that all you can say?" your voice rose in frustration. "Is that all you can do? Apologize? If you're really sorry, you'd try to fix it! Please...please, please, please fix this."

Sihtric smoothed a hand through your hair, his touch tender. He brushed the tears from your cheeks and you shook him off angrily. You felt like you couldn't breathe and the walls were beginning to close in on you. Everything was falling apart and you had no idea how to fix it.

"Father, please. Please don't go. Please don't leave her, don't leave us."

"I'm sorry, but I have to go."

With one last solemn look and a pat on your head, he was gone, and as you stared dejectedly at his disappearing back, you felt as if the world had been pulled out from under your feet. You wondered if he'd ever return.

Suddenly, you were interrupted by a pained wail and your head snapped in the direction of your mother's room. Fear seized your heart as you hastily made your way back to her side. She was slumped on the floor, curled in a fetal position, hands wrapped around her knees as her body shuddered with sobs.

"Mama!" you ran to her side, gingerly putting your hand on her shoulder.

She didn't seem to acknowledge your presence, a low keening sound coming from her throat.

"Mama!" you shook her shoulder a little harder. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick? Should I call for someone?"

Your mother shook her head, still wailing. You waited a few moments, before wrapping your arms around her frail shoulders and helping her sit up. You were just smoothing her hair back when suddenly she turned her head to the side and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach right there on the floor of her chambers. She groaned in pain then, clutching her stomach wearily.

"Shhh, it's okay. You'll be alright, mother. Let's get you to bed," you whispered.

You had already put down your own grief, locking it away somewhere unreachable. You had to take care of your mother first, and you couldn't afford to be distracted. You allowed her to take deep shuddering breaths before wiping at her mouth with the back of your sleeve and helping her to get settled back in her bed. Almost all her weight slumped onto your small frame when you moved her, and you grunted with the effort. Then you ran to fetch a bowl of water to clean her face with, pressing a cold cloth onto her forehead to ease her suffering a little. She seemed to vibrate with pain and you didn't know if it was the emotional toll of your father leaving or the physical pain of her sickness.

Eventually, she drifted off to a troubled sleep as you continued to run your hands through her hair. You kissed her forehead and felt her relax a fraction and you felt your heart lift with hope. You left her side only to clean up the sickness from her floor, before returning to curl up in bed beside her, wrapping your arm around her waist as you held onto her tightly, as if afraid she'd disappear.

The next morning, she was running a fever. Her skin was scalding and she only opened her eyes for a few moments to mumble something incoherent to you before drifting off again. That is when the panic began to set in. You were just about to head out to fetch Eadith when she arrived at your door herself. She had a sympathetic smile and pitying eyes as she let herself in and set about checking up on your mother. She had heard about yesterday's commotion, almost everyone in Rumcofa had. It was a small town after all.

"She'll be alright in no time, love. Don't you worry about her, she is a very strong woman," she told you kindly.

You nodded, and then hesitantly, you asked her the question that had been plaguing your mind.

"Where's Father?"

Eadith's lips thinned, "He...he has gone with Uhtred and the others."

"Oh."

"I can stay here until your mother feels better," she offered. "You are much too young to care for her on your own."

You were just about to nod when your mother chose that exact moment to wake up.

"No!" she blurted out, her voice hoarse. "I-I would not want to impose."

Eadith squeezed her hand gently, "It would be no trouble at all. Please."

Your mother shook her head weakly, "It is just a little fever. I'll feel better in no time. You have children to take care of, and your husband isn't even home. You must go back to them. I'll be just fine."

"But-"

"Please," your mother pleaded. "I'm no invalid. I can take care of myself just fine. And besides, I have my darling here to keep me company."

She stretched out her hand which you took immediately, letting her pull you close.

Eadith looked unconvinced but after your mother insisted several more times, she nodded. She left you with a few herbs and medicines to give to your mother depending on her various symptoms and promised to return the next day to check up on the two of you.

"Mother..."

"Yes, my love?"

"You'll be alright, right?"

You were cuddled up next to her, but still, the house felt strangely empty. She felt like a wraith beside you, like she could leave any minute and then you'd truly be left alone. You could feel her bones through her thin nightgown and you clutched her tighter, as if you could hold her together.

"Of course, I'll be alright, my love," she pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Promise me. Promise me you'll be alright. That you won't leave me!"

"Oh, I wouldn't leave you for the world. You mean too mu-" her words were interrupted by a fit of coughs.

She pressed her sleeve to her mouth and it came away tinged with blood. She pulled it away quickly, folding the sleeve up so that you could not see and you pretended that you hadn't. The two of you spent the rest of the day in bed, with you reading to her as she swam in and out of consciousness. Every time her eyes would flutter open and see you, her face would relax and she'd kiss you, as if trying to impart a lifetime's worth of affection.

Her health took a turn for the worse later in the night. Her fever had greatly worsened and although you had given her all of Eadith's medicines, nothing seemed to help. She was still awake though, so that was some comfort.

"Let me go get Eadith please," you begged her.

"No. We will not bother her now. The hour is late and she said she'd come by tomorrow anyways."

"But Mother! You seem to be getting worse. Please, please you need to see someone!"

"I will not make a fuss at this hour. I'll be just fine. I just need to-"

A fit of hacking coughs overwhelmed her once again, blood pooling at her lips. She was too weak to hide it and instead allowed it to trickle down her chin. You wiped at it hastily, eyes filling with tears of frustration. You yearned to rush out and fetch someone right away, but your mother kept a vicelike grip on your arm.

"Mama, please," you begged again.

"I-no-"

She was having trouble breathing. You could tell. She sucked in air through her mouth and it rattled painfully in her chest. Every breath hurt her and all you could do was helplessly watch.

"You...you know I-I love you right?" she wheezed suddenly.

"What?"

"I...I said I love you, my darling girl."

"I love you too Mama," you whispered.

She pulled you close and you rested your head on her chest. She massaged your scalp with her fingers, whispering more sweet nothings into your ear. You felt her voice grow softer and her breathing slow down. Perhaps she'd sleep it off, you thought to yourself. Yes, she'd sleep off her fever and be right as rain in the morning. You entertained yourself with such thoughts as you drifted off as well.

You jolted awake sometime later in the night, some unknown panic clawing in your throat as you bolted out of bed.

Your mother had stopped breathing. You had felt it. You had felt the stillness of her next to you. You shook her, slowly at first, and then more frantically.

"Mama! Mama! Mama wake up!"

She remained listless, her limp frame rattling like a bag of bones as you shook her harder. Your pleas grew louder as well, your voice rising with every moment that passed.

"Mama, please. Please, please, please. Please don't leave me. You promised! Remember, you promised that you wouldn't leave me!" you screamed. "You can't break your promise. You'd be a bad mother if you broke your promise...please, I am begging you don't go."

Reality set in soon. Her skin had grown cold. It was clear that she had been gone for a while. You swore at yourself for not waking up sooner, for not going to someone for help earlier, for not doing something. Eventually, you slumped down, throat raw from screaming. The house was indeed empty now, and your mother was a wraith. Your grief was your only companion and it was a quiet needling thing, stripping you raw and ragged from the inside. you wanted to scream but no more sound would come out. You would have to fester in dark silence it seemed.

In a daze, you wondered if you should go get someone now. It made no sense to, not anymore. What could anyone do now? They'd just come to take her away and then you'd never see her again. You saw how what they did to the dead. They were often burned. Soon there would be nothing left of your mother but ashes. Your mouth tasted like ashes and you had the sudden urge to throw up. Seven years was not nearly enough time to spend with one's mother. You thought you'd have a lifetime.

You decided not to bother anyone then. You wiped your own tears and lifted the blankets to curl up next to your mother's body, clinging to her, perhaps to share your own warmth with her or perhaps hoping that she'd share her cold emptiness with you. At least then you would receive some relief from the burning agony that lit your heart. With broken syllables, you hummed your favourite lullaby to her, the one she always sang to you, and in that moment, pressed against her ribs, you could pretend that the hollow thud in your own chest came from hers instead.

You did not know how long you remained there, in the space between wakefulness and sleep, the space where dreams felt like reality and your mother's arms wrapped around you almost as tightly as yours were around her. You did not notice the sun rise in the morning or set again the next evening. The only thing that jolted you out of your reverie was the sharp knock on the door.

"Anyone home?"

It was a familiar voice.

"Hello? Sophia's mother sent me with some things," Aethelstan called out from the door, knocking again. "She apologizes for not being able to come herself but something urgent came up."

He said your name a few times too, puzzled at the lack of response.

You ignored him. There wasn't anything he could do either, and Eadith's medicines would not be of any use anymore. You burrowed deeper into your mother, raising the covers over your face. If you ignored Aethelstan for long enough maybe he'd leave, and then you could be alone with your mother again.

It worked for a while and no one else bothered you for the rest of the night. However, the next morning there was a larger commotion at the door. Several fists pounded on the door until eventually, they had to break it in. It gave way with a loud crack, and still, you did not acknowledge their presence. The loud voices were inside the house now, as they rummaged through all the rooms of the house, the heavy footsteps growing closer until they finally reached your mother's room. Still, you did not acknowledge their presence.

Someone said your name, softly at first, and then more insistent. You ignored them. Then suddenly, the covers were ripped off the bed. The sunlight accosted your eyes and you winced. Someone swore and the room burst with activity.

"By the gods, is she alright? Are they both-?"

It was your father's voice, you realized indifferently. He was finally back.

He said your name again, more insistently, and you shook your head listlessly, face still tucked into your mother's neck. That minuscule movement was enough though, to confirm that you were still alive. Strong arms peeled your mother's arms back to lift you out of them. It was at that moment when you truly came alive.

"NO!"

You screamed, a terrible ear-piercing shriek. They were your father's arms, as they pried you away from your mother and you shrieked even louder, flailing about desperately. You were downright feral, clawing and biting to get back to your mother.

"No. Let me go! Let me go back to Mama! I want Mama!"

Several other hands joined your father's in pulling you away. All your father's friends were there, Uhtred and Osferth, and even Sophia's father, Finan was there. They all looked at you with pitying eyes as you thrashed harder, body contorting wildly. Your mother's fingers were clutched tightly in yours and it took several minutes for them to peel you off.

"Don't take her away!" you howled. "She promised she wouldn't leave me! You can't take her away. She wouldn't break her promise, she's not a bad mother!"

"Shhh, darling, she's gone," it was Eadith's gentle voice that broke through your frenzy.

Sihtric handed your writhing form to her and you immediately slumped in her arms. You did not have the heart to bite and claw at her, not after all she had done. She smoothed her hands over your face gently.

"Oh, you poor darling girl. I'm so sorry, I should have come earlier," she mumbled softly.

The time after that was a blur to you as well, lost in your grief and rage. Your mother had only been dead a month before your father married again. You were almost certain it was the woman he had been seeing when your mother had caught him, but you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore. The true fury came when he moved her into your house. The house your mother had died in, the house that you had died in. At first, you refused to live with them. It would be a mockery to your mother's memory, to live in her house with your father and his new whore. That was what she was to you anyways, you never acknowledged her as his wife. Eventually though, even you felt bad imposing on Sophia's family. Despite Finan and Eadith repeatedly assuring you that you could remain with them forever if you wished, you allowed your father to take you home.

The next few days passed by in a haze and you barely recalled any of it. In the days leading up to and after your mother's funeral, you stayed with Eadith and her family. In any other circumstance, you would have been delighted to spend your days with Sophia, but you spent most of your days curled up in bed. You refused to eat anything, despite Eadith's best efforts and you never spoke a word. You especially refused to see your father, turning your head away from him every time he came to visit and speak to you.

The next few years passed by quickly as well. Once a lively and energetic child, you withdrew into yourself, but the silent simmering heat burning you from the inside remained. The only people who could ever draw smiles from you were Sophia and Aethelstan, and try they did. They had made it their collective mission to see you in happier spirits. You no longer took fighting lessons from your father, instead joining Sophia's lessons with Finan or Aethelstan's with Uhtred. The chasm between you and your father grew as he began to have more children with his new wife. You watched him be affectionate with them and the bitterness began to poison you from the inside out. You made your disdain for his wife very obvious and the feeling was mutual. You looked too much like your late mother for her to be comfortable in your presence. That paired with your constant reminders that she was the other woman and had only been able to acquire your father because your mother had died, meant that she went out of her way to make things difficult for you. As your father was often away fighting, she ran the household. She made you clean up after your younger half-siblings and do all the chores in the house. Often you escaped, slipping out to spend time with Sophia and Aethelstan, but that meant another screaming match when you returned home.

Despite your bitterness, you couldn't find it in your heart to hate your half-siblings. By the time you were twelve, you had three. Two brothers and a sister. Your brothers were timid and easy going while your sister was a spitfire. She reminded you of yourself sometimes, often when you sat down to brush the tangles and mud out of her hair as she returned from another grand escapade. You were afraid of yourself sometimes. You were afraid that the poison inside you would come spilling out and taint them. They were innocent, blameless in their conception, and you could not blame them for the sins of their parents. Still, the resentment was difficult to erase. Watching your father spend time with his new family, you felt like an outsider. it felt like watching someone else's happy family through the window, watching how the warmth lit up their eyes while the wind hollowed out your bones and filled your lungs with ice.

Your father was patient with you, painfully tender as if that would make up for what he did. He never raised his voice at you, even as you threw fits and screamed at both him and your stepmother in the first few years you lived with them. He was kind to you, just as he was with your half-siblings, but the distance was there. He'd avoid looking at you for too long because looking was a painful reminder of what he had lost. Everyone had always said that you were almost an exact carbon copy of your mother, and that was both a comfort and anguish. He treated you as if you were fragile, prone to breaking at any moment. You supposed you were. You felt it yourself sometimes as if you were on the precipice of doing something terrible, of releasing years' worth of resentment in one explosive moment. Your grief walked hand in hand with madness and buried things had an awful way of haunting you.

Your breaking point came when you were just shy of your fifteenth year. Your stepmother had made you scrub the entire house clean to prepare for your father's return from yet another fighting season. You had done just that, but after you had finished, your sister had run into the house, tracking in mud and debris from the outside. You hadn't been able to clean it up again in time and when your mother returned from her errands, she screamed at you for being lazy and irresponsible as usual. She screamed at you all the time, so that wasn't what made you lose it. It was when she raised her hand and slapped you. The blow came as a surprise and you tasted blood. One of the rings in her fingers had cut you, and your lower lip trickled with crimson. You saw red then as the blood roared in your ears. You let out a string of the worst profanities, calling her all manner of insults. It was your unfortunate luck that it was at that moment that your father chose to return.

"You will not speak to your mother that way!" he roared.

"She is not my mother!" you screeched. "Do not ever disrespect my mother again by comparing her to this whore!"

Your father uttered your name, his tone tinged with a warning.

"Apologize to her," he muttered. "You do not get to speak to her that way."

"Do you even know what she did? Do you even care? No of course you don't. All you care about is your perfect new wife and your perfect new kids. You don't give a fuck about me, just like you didn't give a fuck about my mother!"

"Mind your manners! I am still your father!"

"I'd rather have no father at all than one like you! You killed her, you killed my mother. I wish you had died instead. In fact, I hope your next fight kills you!"

Your stepmother gasped dramatically and your father flinched. His expression grew thunderous and he lifted his hand, almost instinctively. He pulled it back down to his side almost immediately but the damage was done. You looked at him incredulously.

"You would raise your hand at me?" you whispered in disbelief. "Your whore already hits me at every opportunity, and now you would do? Maybe you should...maybe you should just beat me to death. Maybe it's me who should have died with my mother so that I could at least be with someone who cared about me."

"I-no...I didn't mean-" Sihtric stumbled over his words.

You didn't wait to hear his explanation, stomping out the door and sprinting away. You took refuge in the forest, slumped against your favourite tree as you sobbed. Your wish to remain alone went ungranted as you heard the sound of leaves crunching as someone approached you. A familiar voice mumbled your name.

"Go away, Sophia!"

"You can't just push people away when you're angry you know."

"I can, and I will."

"Not me," Sophia came over and knelt on the ground next to you. "You can't get rid of me!"

You raised your head to look at her, eyes still swimming with tears, "Why are you here?"

"I saw you run out of your house and head this way. Seemed wise to follow you."

"You can't follow me forever."

"I can certainly try. Now tell me what happened."

You sighed and then straightened up, recounting your story to her, your voice taking on a sharp edge. Sophia nodded sympathetically, and then she pulled out her handkerchief to dab at your lip gingerly.

"I'm going to leave!" you said suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm leaving," you said again, more firmly. "I can't stay here anymore."

"You...you can come to live with my family? You know my parents adore you."

"No. I can't stay here, in Rumcofa. I can't watch my father live happily ever after with her new family and I can't watch that horrible witch erase all signs of mother from that house. I can't do it, I won't."

Sophia's brow wrinkled in concern, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere has to be better than here. I know how to fight, I can go anywhere."

"I don't think-"

"Don't try to talk me out of it Sophia, I've made up my mind. I'm going to go and I'm going to leave tonight?"

"Tonight?" her eyes widened.

You nodded, "They won't be looking for me for a while. They'll think I got angry and stormed off to your place as usual. That gives me some time."

"What'll you do if they do look for you?"

"I'll be long gone by then."

Sophia was silent for several long moments, pondering something in her head. Then, her eyes lit up and you recognized her expression as one she usually had when she had an idea.

"I'll come with you!" she blurted excitedly.

"What? No!"

"Yes!"

"Sophia, no!"

"Come on, it'll be perfect! We'll explore the world together. And besides when have I ever not been by your side? Trust me, you need me."

You gaped at her as if she had grown a third eye.

"Are you insane? You have a family. A family who adores you and they would be extremely worried if you just disappeared like that."

"Technically I could say the same about you but it's clear that you're in no mood to listen to anyone. It's final, I'm coming with you!"

"No, I can't let you do that."

"Well, I can't let you go on your own."

"But...your parents...?"

Sophia looked pensive for a moment, "They'll understand. And you're like a daughter to them too. They'll be worried about you so I'm sure they'd be happier knowing we're watching out for each other."

"But you can't leave them!"

After several more rounds of back and forth between the two of you, Sophia jutted out her chin stubbornly.

"If you refuse to let me come with you, I am going over to your father right now and telling him you're planning to run away!"

"What? You can't do that!"

"Watch me!"

You were silent for several minutes, and then you nodded hesitantly. Sophia's face split into a grin immediately.

"What about Aethelstan," Sophia winked. "Can't leave him behind. Who knows which fair lady of lovely Rumcofa he might take as his companion if we're not here to keep him company."

Your face warmed immediately at the thought of your friend. He had been one of your best friends but in the past years, your feeling for him had grown into something else, something more. You were too much of a coward, and too consumed with your bitterness to examine those feelings. You had simply buried them somewhere deep inside where they'd never see the light of day. You shook your head frantically.

"We can't tell Aethelstan!" you whisper-yelled. "He's the son of the king and Lord Uhtred's ward. There'd be a whole search party after us if we take him."

Sophia's smile dropped as the reality of what they were about to do set in.

"But...but we can't leave him behind. Should we at least tell him where we're going?"

You shook your head again, "No. He'll only try to talk us out of it."

"But-"

"If you're coming with me, we have to do things my way."

"That's not fair!"

"Then stay here. Where it's safe and familiar, and things are fair," you shrugged.

Sophia sighed and nodded eventually, "Alright, we'll do things your way."

And that was the beginning of a different life. The two of you left that very night, creeping out of Rumcofa using one of Sophia's father's boats. You had insisted that she write her family a note, telling them that she was safe. you also forbade her from mentioning you in her note, although everyone had known the two of you long enough to know that where one went, the other surely always followed.

The next few years passed quickly, and both you and Sophia had made quite a name for yourselves and had amassed a small army of sorts. You had formed your own family of sorts, a band of fellow women who had run away from varying circumstances, brought together by fate. Your group of shieldmaidens was famous for protecting villages from raiders. You had taken care to travel far enough that you never ran into your father or any of his men, and over the years the fear of getting caught had worn off.

You had first heard about Lord Uhtred's fight to retake Bebbanburg through one of your messengers. After much deliberation, you and Sophia had agreed that it would only be right if you joined the fight. Lord Uhtred had always been kind and had taken care of your family ever since you could remember. You remembered him visiting and asking after your mother's health and it was your duty to help him retake his birthright.

Your army of shieldmaidens did not hesitate to volunteer to fight by your side. They trusted you to lead them and they would stand with you no matter what. You wondered if you'd see your father there. He had to be, he was one of Lord Uhtred's closest friends and if he was still alive, he'd be right there by his side. With a pang of regret, you remembered the last words you had said to him. You had wished for his death and you desperately hoped that the gods had not granted your immature selfish prayer. The years had cooled your anger and you were no longer as bitter. All the women you had met and the stories you had heard made you realize that there were worst fates out there and the sting of poison that ran through your veins became dilute.

The fight itself was long and hard and you lost quite a few women, all cherished friends and companions. Everyone lost someone in the fight and after all the brave warriors had been honoured and sent on their way to Valhalla, everyone gathered within the newly conquered castle walls to celebrate Lord Uhtred's victory. You had been able to avoid facing anyone you knew so far, but now, as you sat in the corner, allowing Sophia to bandage your injured arm, you could see Lord Uhtred and his men make their way toward you both.

Finan greeted you first, with a broad grin and a clap on your shoulder. Sophia turned around at his presence and when she saw him she squealed with pleasure.

"Father!" she crowed, throwing her arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, twirling her slightly, like the used to when she was a child.

"My girl is a warrior now," he boomed with laughter. "And leading your own army too."

Sophia's smile turned sheepish and she let go of him and lowered her gaze.

"I...I'm sorry Father. I'm sorry for leaving..." she muttered.

Finan took a deep breath and then exhaled, sighing. He shook his head and patted his daughter's shoulder gently.

"We will speak of that another time. For now, it is enough that you are safe and whole, and that you're home. You had us very worried you know, your mother especially. She was inconsolable."

"I am so sorry, Father."

As you watched Sophia and her father walk away, presumably to go see her mother and the rest of her family, your eyes stung and you blinked quickly, holding back the sudden onslaught of tears that threatened to spill. You felt bad that Sophia had to leave because of you, but more than that, you felt a pang of hurt at the thought of no one missing you. You had no mother who would be inconsolable at your loss. You busied yourself with the bandage on your arm, not realizing that Uhtred had left as well, leaving you alone with your father.

Sihtric cleared his throat and you looked up at him in surprise. Both of you were silent for several long moments, neither knowing where to start. Your eyes charted the planes of his face. He looked older, with tired lines around his eyes and mouth. He seemed to have a perpetual furrow in his brow. Now that you had seen him, you were hit with an overwhelming wave of relief. His battles had not taken him from this earth, he was still alive.

"I...I am sorry."

It was you who had mustered up the courage to speak. You looked him in the eye as you did, shoulders back, eyes blazing with defiance as if daring him to rebuke you. You waited for him to turn his head away, to make some sort of cold remark or something of the sort. He didn't though. He just stared at you and you felt rooted to the ground. Then, wordlessly, he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms. You froze in his embrace and he just held on tighter. You could not see his face but you felt his shoulders tremble and you wondered with some disbelief if he was crying. You patted his back awkwardly.

"I'm sorry Father... for everything."

Sihtric shook his head and when he pulled away you saw the tears that had tracked down his face and soaked into his beard. He cupped your face with aching tenderness and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I thought I had lost you forever," he whispered. "I thought I would never see you again. You didn't even leave a note."

The tears you had been holding back fell now, and you forced yourself to harden your eyes.

"I didn't think you'd care," you shrugged.

He thumbed the tears from your face, "I am sorry. I am sorry I ever made you feel that way. I understand if you can never forgive me but you have to know how truly sorry I am. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. Please let me. Please come home."

You avoided his pleading gaze, instead letting your eyes fall on your fellow warriors.

"I have another family as well now. They need me."

Sihtric's face was crestfallen but he nodded, "Of course. I am proud of you, you know, more than you can imagine. You have become a most fearsome warrior and I am proud to call you my beloved daughter."

"I have another family...but you will always be my father," you finally said. "The first family I ever knew. You will always have a part of my heart."

It was you who fell into his embrace this time and you could feel his joy in the way his arms wrapped around you.

"I understand that you have another place now, but know that you will always have a place with me, should you ever wish to return," he mumbled and then he hesitated. "And...you should visit. Your siblings have missed you dearly."

"I suppose a visit won't hurt."

Sihtric chuckled and pulled away, clapping your shoulder, "We have much else to talk about, I have much else to apologize for...but for now, I think there is someone else who wishes for your attention."

He gestured toward the tall boy watching you from across the courtyard and when you caught his eye, his eyes turned cold and he turned away.

"Ouch," you muttered.

"The two of you left him behind," Sihtric explained. "You cannot blame the poor boy for feeling hurt. Now go, make things right."

He nudged you toward Aethelstan's disappearing form with a wink and he was gone before you could question his action. You turned around to make your way toward your friend, waking fast to catch up.

"Aethelstan!" you called after him.

At first, you thought that he didn't hear you because he didn't turn around, but then he started to walk away faster. He walked right out the front gates and into the field beyond. You dropped your sword in the grass and chased after him.

"Damnit Aethelstan, slow down!"

Your words only spurred him on, but by now you were fully sprinting after him. You caught up in a matter of moments, grabbing his arm to pull him to a halt. He kept his back to you so you circled him, meeting him face-to-face for the first time in years. His eyes remained glued to the floor you crossed your arms in frustration.

"You won't even say hello?" you asked furiously.

He did not respond. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"Go away," he finally muttered, his voice sharp. "I don't want to talk to you."

"No, I will not! Why are you running from me? You were my dearest friend, and now you won't even look at me."

Aethelstan's eyes finally met hers, burning with emotion, "You're no friend of mine!"

You flinched, "Hey...that's not fair."

"Friends don't do what you did. Friends don't abandon friends!"

"I never wanted to hurt you," you pleaded, reaching out to him but he took a step back, avoiding your touch. "I had to go."

Aethelstan shook his head, "I don't want to hear your excuses. You told Sophia and took her with you, but you didn't even bother leaving me a note? You clearly didn't think of me as a friend so why should I?"

"I couldn't take you with me. You know that."

"You could have at least asked. You could have at least let me know!"

"It all happened so fast, I didn't get a chance. I-I am sorry."

"Don't bother apologizing. You don't owe me anything," he shrugged. "It won't change the past."

"No...but it's a start. I should have told you that I was leaving. I should have explained why I had to go. I never meant to hurt you, and I'm truly sorry for the pain I caused."

"You treated me like I meant nothing to you. Now you have to accept that you're nothing to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, "You mean everything to me, Aethelstan. You're my dearest friend, and I never wanted to lose that."

"You left without saying a word. We were supposed to share everything. But you abandoned me, just like that. How dare you say that I mean something to you?"

"Please..."

Aethelstan shook his head, his eyes firm, "We are not friends. Not anymore."

"That's not fair!" you protested, voice breaking. "After all these years, after everything we've been through together, you're going to dismiss our friendship like it never meant a thing?"

"It's the truth. I can't forget the way I felt. Do you even know what I went through on my own, without you there."

The two of you stood there, locked in a tense silence. You refused to give up, your determination fueled by the urge to make things right with him, no matter what it took. You felt desperate. You couldn't lose him. Not when you had spent every day of the past few years thinking about him.

"Fine," you said finally, voice steady and shoulders slumped. "If you don't want to call me your friend, then I'll respect that. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. Please, give me a chance to fix this."

Aethelstan did not respond, expression guarded. You nodded, mostly to yourself and turned around, starting to walk back to where the others were. Disappointment churned in your gut and you felt sick. You had quite possibly ruined one of your most cherished relationships due to your own stupidity. You pressed your lips tightly against each other to prevent them from trembling. You knew that he did not owe you forgiveness. Whether or not an apology was accepted was entirely up to the person one had hurt and if Aethelstan decided never to forgive you, there was nothing you could do about it. Just the thought of it made your heartache.

Just then, a hand landed on your shoulder, making you stop in your tracks. You turned out, bewildered. Once Aethelstan caught sight of your reddened face, his eyes widened.

"What's wrong with you? Why're you crying?"

You hastily swiped your hands under your eyes, shaking your head, "I'm not."

He raised an eyebrow sardonically, "You have always been a terrible liar."

You shrugged.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," he admitted after several seconds of silence. "But I'll try."

Your eyes brightened and your lips lifted upward. You weren't a hopeless case after all.

"But I don't think we can ever be friends again," he quickly pointed out, making you deflate again.

"Right. Of course. I understand. I'll take what I can get and you are under no obligation to...to be my friend. Just your forgiveness alone is enough."

Athelstan watched you with a peculiar expression, halfway between amused and concerned.

"I don't think I can go back to being just friends with you."

"By the gods, I know! You don't have to keep saying it like it'll hurt any less."

He outright laughed then, and you bristled. You glared at him.

"What I meant, silly girl, is that I can't go back to being just friends when I think of you as more than that."

Oh.

"Yeah," he reached out to brush the tears from your lashes. "So stop moping about like it's the end of the world."

He turned around and jogged back to the courtyard where everyone was gathered, leaving you to marvel at the latest development of things on your own.

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moris-auri · 4 months

Text

wild folk

osferth x fem!

A/n; yes i know this is super short :) and no summary because i can

warnings; NSFW 18+

wc; 908

taglist; @black-dread @orcaunionleader @artyoms @barbieaemond @sylasthegrim @bottlesandbarricades @helaelaemond @arcielee @sapphire-writes @lexwolfhale

"Osferth..."

She croons his name softly, delicately, her tongue curling around the syllables as she waits patiently for him to stir. Tracing one finger up and down the length of his arm, she feels the bumps that form under her fingers in response to her feather-light touch. She does not have to wait long before he shifts beside her, uttering a quiet huff as his bright blue eyes open at the sound of her voice, and he blinks once, then twice, before turning his head to the side to be face to face with her.

"There you are," she murmurs, her voice laden with affection. "My Osferth."

If there is one thing she wants to remember till the day she dies, it is this. Sleep mussed and half awake, he's so very pretty in this light, cocooned beneath the furs draped over them and flat on his back like he is, his bare skin and hair almost golden in the glow of the early morning sun that streams into the chamber from the window overhead.

It is something akin to a dream, golden and bright and glowing, to be alone with him like this, surrounded by nothing but the dust motes floating around them, made visible by the sunlight warming the room and the sounds of Rumcofa slowly coming to life beyond the walls of the structure they've called home for the past year little more than a distant hum.

"Good morning."

"Is it, though?"

He chuckles, the sound rolling down her spine as his hand settles on her hip, molding to the shape of it in a way it's done a thousand times before, and she sighs, pressing closer to trail a string of kisses across his face. The shadows shift, a sure sign of the sun rising higher in the sky, and the practical part of her flares at the thought of wasting the day away, but it fades as she pulls back to meet his gaze, eyes moving over him. He looks more relaxed than she's seen him in weeks, almost no trace of the seasoned fighter in the half-softened line of his shoulders or in the slow rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes.

She lifts one hand, fingers tracing the angles of his face before weaving into his hair, her fingers combing through the half tangled strands gently. His eyes fall shut again at her touch, the sensation of her nails scratching over his scalp dragging a low noise of pleasure somewhere between a low groan and a whine from between his lips.

The bed creaks as she shifts, her body flush against his as she nudges her nose against his before withdrawing her hand from his hair to ghost her fingertips down the length of his body, from shoulder to hip to knee, delighting in the hoarse, rasping sounds her touch pull deliciously from his pretty mouth as a ruddy shade of pink blooms just beneath his skin.

"Wild pretty thing that you are," he groans, head pressing against the pillow. His voice is little more than a breathy rasp low in his throat, his fingers biting into the meat of her thighs. She twisted, moving to situate herself atop him, sliding her palms up his arms until she stopped at his wrists, tugging them over his head.

"Wild, you say?" she teases, rolling her hips against him, grinning when he whines again, the tips of his ears going pink as he glares up at her half-heartedly.

"Y...yes," he whimpers, and she'll be damned if it is the one sound she'll never tire of hearing. He sat up suddenly, tugging his hands free to curl an arm around her waist, the other tangling in the hair at the base of her neck, her back arching as a moan clawed its way up her throat at the feel of him, hot and hard, pressing against her. Her mind went blank, empty save for the thought that no matter how many times they've lain together, innumerable to count now, the feel of him, his hands and his mouth and his darkened gaze focused on her never failed to all but rob the breath from her lungs, leaving her dizzy and breathless and everything in between.

The heat of his hands as he slid them up her sides to brush his knuckles against the side of her breast drew her back, her eyes opening and dropping down to his face, taking in the lazy, sated grin on his lips. "There you are," he uttered, a repeat of the words she had spoken earlier. She hummed a noise as his hand found purchase on her hip, his thumb stroking the skin.

She bit her lip, feeling the heavy, heated weight of his gaze on her as the deepening sounds of his breathing filled the space between them. She slid off him, one hand slipping under the linens, her fingers wrapping around his cock. The movement made him choke out a moan, knuckles going white around the sheet fisted in his grasp. "God-"

She pulled her hand away, lifting her fingers to her mouth, the other laying flat against his chest. "Is it not wrong to take the Lord's name in vain?"

"N…no-" his eyes squeeze shut, hips bucking upwards, any and all coherent thoughts vanishing in the blink of an eye, and she grins down at him triumphantly, all too pleased.

#my fics #osferth fic #osferth smut #osferth x reader #osferth #osferth imagine

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 15 days

Text

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.

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happilyhertale · 1 year

Text

Welcome to my page 💙

About me: I'm Vanessa (please never call me Vanny), my pronouns are she/her. I'm in my 30s and a professional fangirl. My main account is @schniiipsel.

I only write in my spare time - but I love losing myself in writing! I write for the Ewan Mitchell characters Aemond Targaryen, Tom Bennett, Osferth and Ettore, as well as Daemon Targaryen. Feel free to ask me anything! 🖤

This blog is for over 18s only! All others please leave this account at this point.

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Tom Bennett

Osferth

Ettore

12 Days of Smuff

Currently writing Steamy

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silens-oro · 1 year

Text

My Lady

Osferth x f!Dane!reader

Synopsis: Feeling are requited and Osferth takes the leap of faith.

Word Count: 5,994

Content Warning: 18+, battle, blood, gore, wounds, mention of slavery, mention of being a bed slave, mentions of religion. this is so soft 🥺

AN: idk man it’s always loving Osferth hours in this house. This was posted on my phone so the layout might be a little wonky.

No mention of “y/n”

“Lord,” Osferth choked out as Uhtred entered the tent. You pushed the cloth against the wound in his abdomen to stem the flow of blood. He gasped in pain, clenching at the furs under him. “Did you see me fight?”

“I did,” Uhtred responded, surveying the injury. “You fought bravely.” Osferth gave a weak nod of his head.

“Am I going to die, Lord?” Osferth asked after a brief moment of silence. His eyes were directed to the top of the tent, wincing with each press from your working hands. “I do not fear it.”

“No. I forbid it,” Uhtred placed a gentle hand on Osferth’s chest. Uhtred looked down to you and you nodded with a sigh. One of your hands moved up to grasp Osferth's. He squeezed back, though it was weak.

“If we can get him into a wagon and deliver him to Lady Aethelflaed’s estate -and should a fever not set- he will live to see the next battle.” You assured Uhtred, though you were not entirely confident. You kept the negative thoughts to yourself.

“You hear that? You shall spark fear into the hearts of Danes once more, Baby Monk.” Finan joked from behind you, bringing a pained smile to the monk’s face as you swung an arm back to hit Finan in the stomach. The man grunted and moved backwards to save himself from a second blow.

“He will need plenty of furs to stay warm. We need to move quickly,” You called to Sihtric who nodded from his place at the entrance of the healing tent and left to ready the wagon without question.

The tent cleared as everyone saw Osferth was in good hands. This left you, Finan, and Osferth as the sole occupants.

“Help me sit him up,” You directed Finan. “I need to wrap him securely before we leave. Finan nodded and did as was instructed. Osferth tried to keep his groans of agony to himself, but the pain was so severe that shouts left his lips before he could stop them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You tried to soothe him with a palm cupping his sharp jawline. Osferth leaned his cheek into it naturally, looking for any comfort he could get. Your hands worked quickly to wrap the cloth around the makeshift bandage just under his ribs. Once you were happy with your work, you brought his shirt back down and returned the furs to keep him warm.

“Gently,” You instructed Finan as he guided Osferth back onto his cot by his shoulders. The monk’s hand sought yours out as he settled. “Rest,” You gently pushed the sweaty hair from his forehead. “I will stay with you until we are ready to leave.” Osferth nodded with a soft tilt of his lips, closed his eyes, and succumbed to the darkness for rest. Finan waited a few moments, making sure the Baby Monk’s chest was rising and falling with slowed, sleeping breaths before he spoke.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Finan’s grin was wider than you had ever seen it. Shooting the Irishman with a pointed glare, you made sure your threat was loud and clear.

“Say another word and you will not have eyes to deceive you.” You promised, grunting as you stood from your kneeling position on the ground. You didn’t bother trying to clean the mud from the knees of her breeches. They were soaked in blood and other more vile liquids that spilled on a battlefield. Mud was the least of your worries.

“I am merely an observer.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “He’s fond of you.” You rolled your eyes, wiping your hands with a discarded rag. “And you are fond of him if I’m to believe what I’m seeing?”

“The man could very well be on his deathbed, Finan. The last thing he needs right now is your meddling.” Finan took a few steps closer with a thick brow raised.

“If I was lyin’ as he is now, would you hold my hand too?” He baited.

“I’d hold a pillow over your face and be free of your endless torment.” You replied with a smirk. Of course he was right. You knew this and absolutely hated it.

“Ah! My point is proven!” Finan’s grin softened the longer he looked between the sleeping monk and yourself. “This isn’t a bad thing.” He whispered with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. “You’ll chew up the poor lad and spit him out, but there are worse ways to die…you could make this work.” Your stomach turned in anxiety. There seemed to be some truth in Finan’s words, otherwise he wouldn’t be fighting so hard for you to take the proverbial leap into the unknown. Still, the walls around your heart were fortified. You hadn’t laid with a man willingly since before your enslavement, and the idea of giving yourself physically and emotionally to anybody filled you with a certain kind of dread that was all encompassing.

You did not speak to anyone other than Uhtred and Gisela about your year as a bed slave and you were sure the rest of the group knew something, but they were not privy to the details. You wanted to keep it that way.

If Osferth knew how deep the rot festered, how ruined you had truly been, he would want nothing to do with you -you were sure of it. Your stomach clenched painfully once more and it was decided that if you did not take the chance, he would never look at you differently. Things would stay just as they were.

“Finan,” You shot him a warning look. “I’m sure you can find some other poor souls to play matchmaker on. Outside. And make sure the wagon is ready while you’re at it.”

“Alright, alright. I can take a hint.” He dodged a bowl that was aimed at his head as he ran from the tent with a laugh. Now that you had the tent to yourself and the sleeping monk, you sighed heavily and looked down at him resting peacefully. A few tears fell freely.

You will not be tainted by me, you thought.

The gray sky was moving above Osferth when he opened his eyes. His body rocked back and forth within the back of the wagon he had been safely placed in for transport to Saltwic.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Baby Monk.” Finan said with a laugh. Osferth smiled back at the Irishman before his eyes naturally found yours. Riding your horses to Finan’s left, Osferth’s right, it took everything to not give into the temptation to kick the Irishman off of his steed and into the bushes on his other side. Osferth’s smile softened into something that could be described as adoration the longer his gaze stayed on you. A pang twisted in your heart, but you returned the smile all the same.

Finan caught your eyes and he shot you a look that clearly said ‘You see? I am not wrong.’ Osferth’s eyes were questioning as Finan nudged his horse to move up to Uhtred at the front of the group to give you privacy.

“Pay the idiot no mind,” You reassured Osferth with a gentle smile. “Relax. We should arrive at Lady Aethelfled’s estate by nightfall. They’ll be able to fix you up better than I can.”

“Your efforts do not go unappreciated, my lady,” Osferth stared up at you, openly and without a care, as he spoke raspily. He noted that you looked exhausted. Your hair was loose from the twists and braids it was in previously to keep it tamed in battle. Your right eye was shadowed with the deep bruising of a black eye, a deep, painful looking cut marred the left side of your upper lip and small scratches and bruises littered your face, but you had never looked more beautiful to Osferth as you did in that moment.

He thought of how you fought your way to him and pulled him to safety when he was sure to die on that battlefield. The sheer strength of you in the heat of battle was truly a sight to behold. He knew then, as he lay in the back of that wagon, that he loved you.

It had to be love.

Even in the clutches of death, it felt like he was floating every time he looked upon you. A pagan woman who was so different from him, in life and in constitution, who was deemed his enemy in principle alone had enraptured him. You were not the heathen monster he had been taught about as he grew up within the monastery. You were a survivor in a cruel world that had only shown you pain and misery. Osferth knew that in your world -a world he was trying desperately to acclimate himself to- you persevered or you perished. You adapted to everything that had been thrown your way, and came out victorious at every turn.

You were everything Osferth wished he could be, what his own convictions would never allow him to truly be. He admired you, deeply and wholly. You were not a soft lady, wilting at the thought of impropriety -though that is what he was taught what a lady should be. Modest, God-fearing, dutiful, quiet were not descriptors that corresponded with you. Dutiful, maybe, but not in the sense of what standard Saxon women were held to.

Your hands were rough and calloused, Osferth noted when you held his hand in the tent, from a lifetime with a sword in your hands. If it was the last you were to touch him, he would have the feeling engraved in his memory. He could vividly remember how those very hands felt as his cheek was nestled in your palm to comfort him and it nearly took his breath away then. The feeling of your skin upon his felt as natural as breathing air into his lungs.

Osferth could feel the heat rising within his cheeks at the thought. He closed his eyes once more and let the rocking of the wagon lull him to sleep lest he make a complete fool out of himself.

“You care for him,” It was more of a statement than a question. The group had made its way into the safety of the estate in the cover of night. The healers immediately took Osferth to be worked on the moment the wagon wheels came to a halt. Now, as the first pink rays of the morning sun were just starting to peek over the horizon, he was asleep in a healing room with you watching over him dutifully.

Your legs stretched out before you as you teetered in your chair. Clean breeches rubbed against your skin. A much needed bath and a change of clothing could make a world of a difference. You threw a side-eye at Uhtred as he approached your side to look upon the sleeping monk.

“You’ve been conspiring with Finan?” A grin grew on Uhtred’s lips at your accusation.

“No,” He said simply with a chuckle. “Your affections are not subtle, my friend.”

“No…they are not.” You stated plainly, looking over at Osferth’s resting form. You knew he would be okay, but the stress within you still lingered unpleasantly.

His eyes were closed, face relaxed as he slept soundly. Lady Aethelfled’s healers had cleaned and stitched up Osferth’s wound, and gave him a tea that would allow him to sleep so he could rebuild his strength. His steady, deep breaths were a comfort.

Uhtred’s hand rested on your shoulder. He squeezed gently in reassurance.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of.” He said softly as to not disturb Osferth. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d open up, and with a monk no less, but you have my support. Always.” He grinned at you, but his lips quickly downturned when you looked anything but happy. Uhtred came around to kneel in front of you.

“I thank you for your blessing, Uhtred, but it does not matter.” You replied with a heavy sigh. “I cannot allow myself to sully him.” Your voice was soft, the emotion behind the words was nothing Uhtred had heard from you in many years of service you had given to him. “We could not be any more different.” You looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, thumb tracing the deep blue hues of the rune tattooed within your left palm. “I’m afraid my time in East Anglia has left me more damaged than I would like to admit. No man, even as good and kind as Osferth is, will want me once they learn of what has happened.” You shook your head and Uhtred felt his heart shatter within his chest. He took your hands in his and held tight. “His God would not allow him to see me as I see him, I’m sure of it.”

“Then you are blind.” Your brows furrowed as you picked up your head to look Uhtred in the eyes.

“I do not understand.” You shook your head, looking back to Osferth. Uhtred guided your head back in his direction with a gentle tilt from his finger under your chin.

“No man worth their weight would ever turn you away. What happened…was not your fault. My decisions led you to that fate, and there will never be a day that passes that I do not hate myself for it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “You lived, you survived, and you came back from it. You cannot be faulted for surviving.” Uhtred squeezed your trembling hands. “I cannot tell you what he feels, but I see how he looks to you.”

“In fear,” you said, looking away from Uhtred. The shadow of self-doubt loomed heavily over you, shrouding you in darkness. That was how men looked at you, with nefarious eyes or with total fear. Osferth did not have a lecherous bone in his body, and the day he ever showed you blatant disrespect would be the very day he turned a sword onto himself.

“Perhaps,” Uhtred chuckled softly, though it wasn’t to taunt you. “or perhaps it is admiration. I had looked upon Gisela as he looks upon you now. I know it very well.” Your eyes met Uhtred’s. To bring up the late Gisela was painful for him, you knew that. Squeezing Uhtred’s hands in return, you let them go as he stood.

Uhtred could tell how uncomfortable you were with this whole conversation. Even before your enslavement, Uhtred knew you had taken the occasional lover. You never married, and had never taken a man steadily.

This was something else entirely.

“It is a fleeting thought that I will dwell upon no longer.” You picked up the bowl of water that was tinted pink from the bedside table and held it to your abdomen. Looking back at Uhtred as you reached the door, Uhtred looked back at you with a deep sadness in his eyes at the torment he could see flooding through you like an internal tidal wave.

She was self-destructing before the poor monk ever had the opportunity to fight for his own heart, he thought.

“I just wish him to recover.” You whispered, looking to Osferth once more before taking your leave.

“Osferth!” You shouted as the monk fell to the ground after he had thrown another off of a horse. You continued to cut down the surrounding Danes to make your way to the monk. “Get up!” You slayed any man that stepped before you with a ferocity that was unmatched. “Get up now, Osferth! You will stand or I will kill you myself! AH!” You kicked a Dane in the balls and shoved your sword through his neck as he hunched over.

“Osferth?” You called again, panting profusely, but the monk did not move from where he fell. The salt of your sweat burned your eyes with each drop that fell from your brows.

“Sihtric!” The man in question whipped his head around to find you. “Clear a path!” There weren’t many Danes left who hadn’t fled with their tails tucked between their legs, but there were still a good number that wished for the glory of Valhalla. Sihtric nodded, clearing any upright Danes as you unburied Osferth from the men who fell above him.

“He lives,” You breathed in relief as your eyes met his. “Get up,” You demanded.

“I cannot,” Osferth’s breaths were heavy and quick as he brought shaking hands to his bleeding abdomen. “My Lady.” The sight took the breath from your lungs, but it didn’t take long to jump into action.

“You must,” You grunted. Osferth shouted in pain as you pulled the larger man to his feet. He leaned heavily on you as you tried to keep him from toppling over. Osferth’s pale facade turned an ashen color from the blood loss and it made you move even quicker. Sihtric cut down anyone who saw you and the injured monk as open targets with little effort.

“I will get you to the healing tent, but you must first have the courage to live!” You grunted as you all but hefted the towering monk over your shoulder. His feet dragged through the mud and muck of the field as you put the last of your energy into getting him to safety.

Sihtric took Osferth’s other shoulder to assist in carrying the half dead man to the tent.

“Empty a cot! Now!” Your voice boomed, striking the woman inside into action.

“Here!” She instructed, allowing Sihtric and you to gently place Osferth onto the furs.

“I need cloth, bandages -anything to stem the bleeding. Quickly,” You instructed Sihtric. The woman who acted as a healer was already overwhelmed, bouncing between the various tents, and you could not afford any wasted time if Osferth was to live.

Shoving his modesty to the side, you started cutting anything off of him that obstructed your view of the wound. Fresh blood quickly coated your shaking hands as it flowed without intention of stopping.

“Find Uhtred. Quickly!” You instructed Sihtric as he dropped an arm full of supplies onto the cot between Osferth’s writhing legs. Sihtric flew out of the tent once more, screams of pain and anguish followed behind him, nipping at his heels.

Osferth fought against you as you pressed a bandage to the gaping wound that resided just under his ribs.

“I know this hurts, but I must stem the flow!” You gritted your teeth as you pressed your weight down on him to stop his thrashing.

Your eyes opened. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you groaned at the stiffness in your back from your second night sleeping on the chair next to Osferth’s bed. Fingers deftly rubbed the back of your neck to soothe the pain that lingered. The sky was dark, you noted. Night had fallen. Two candles were lit in the room, basking it in a soft, comfortable glow.

“My lady,” Osferth’s gentle voice startled you. Your head whipped to look at him. “Though I could never repay you for your kindness, you need not waste your time and energy on me. Please.”

“Stop.” You raised a hand to silence Osferth. “Need I remind you that I am no lady. My name will do just fine.” You groaned as you stood, the joints of your spine popping as you extended your arms up in a deep stretch.

“But you are, my Lady,” Osferth groaned as he shifted in the bed uncomfortably. You took a few steps over to help, but he held his hand out to stop you. “You have done enough for me. Please, get some rest. You needn’t worry about me any longer.”

“So it seems.” A moment of silence passed between the both of you before you cleared your throat. “You must be hungry. I will see if I can scrounge anything from the kitchens.” You fled before he had a chance to respond.

Uhtred had left to go on a solo mission. He was adamant that whatever he had to do, he had to do it alone. Though it pained you to not be at his side, as you had sworn you would, you stayed put within the confines of Saltwic.

Osferth had been using the idle time to regain his strength, but the rest of you were going stir-crazy. You did your best to keep your distance from Osferth, more for your own sanity than anything else. You noticed his longing glances, and if you noticed them, then so did Finan and Sihtric. After a nearly successful pillow smothering attempt on Finan’s life, the pair kept their mouths shut regarding any good-natured teasing they threw your way.

It was late into the night during the seventh day of Uhtred’s absence that you sat in the hall before the fireplace. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving you to listen to the rain pitter across the high ceiling as it came down in torrents outside. A cup of ale was clutched in your hands, you felt the warmth of it settle in your belly as you sat on the floor with your back rested against the bench of the table behind you. A quilt was wrapped around your shoulders snugly, bringing a comfort that you longed for. This was the only time you truly got the peace you craved to do absolutely nothing. You didn’t think, you didn’t feel -you just existed and it was a reset you so desperately craved.

“May I?” Osferth’s soft voice broke your silence. Looking up, his face gave away nothing. You nodded, expecting him to sit upon the bench, but he gently lowered himself to the floor beside you with a grunt. When he got situated, you offered your cup to him. He thought for a moment before taking it, the tips of his fingers just brushing against yours as he took it from you. Osferth gulped a mouthful before handing it back to you, nodding in thanks. You set the cup between you before looking back into the fire, pulling the quilt tighter around your shoulders -painfully aware of just how close he sat beside you.

No man, Dane or Saxon, made you feel the way he did with a single glance. When you initially met the shy monk, you did not give him a second glance. He was -is- a holy man, and your past experiences with holy men hadn’t been great up until that point. Beocca excluded.

When Osferth insisted on joining your little rag-tag group, you had scoffed. He would be someone you’d have to constantly babysit as he had no experience with a sword. Why would he? He had God to protect him, you remember thinking ruefully. He took all of the teasing words you all threw at him and let them roll off his back with a grin, and against your will he had grown on you. All of you.

Osferth, with his kindness and willingness to learn and adapt, had become an integral piece of Uhtred’s group of warriors. He had found his place in a world that had shunned him since his birth. As time went on, he had gravitated towards you and all you taught him of wielding a weapon and survival. The once lanky young man had begun to fill out as his own strength grew.

It was noticeable enough for you to give him a second glance when he decided to shyly she’d his robes for the night while you, Osferth, and Finan were camping mid-journey the summer previous. The plains of his abdomen were grooved with muscle definition that was only exacerbated by the shadows the flames of the fire between you casted upon him. A cough from Finan broke your gaze and you didn’t think you blinked for the rest of the night as your brain tried to comprehend just what you were feeling.

You may as well have strapped yourself to a catapult and pulled the lever yourself, for it would’ve felt just as insane as you currently felt.

A monk, you thought to yourself. He wasn’t much of a monk anymore at that point, and he was even less one now.

You brought the edge of the quilt up to over your cheeks, hoping he didn’t catch on to you going through a silent crisis in his presence.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, my lady, I will take my leave and return your peace.” Osferth made to get up, but your quick hand stopped him before he made the effort to stand.

With just a single glance, it felt like you were bare before him.

“You do not make me uncomfortable, Osferth.” You decided to forego chastising him over calling you ‘my lady’ as it was a moot point. “Your presence is…comforting.” It was a half truth, not necessarily a lie. His presence was comforting, but your heart felt like it would beat straight through your chest.

“I am pleased to hear it.” He replied with a gentle grin as he looked down at you. He brought his right knee up so he could rest his forearms atop it comfortably.

You wondered what he was thinking in that moment. Did he come out of his room to see solace before the fire as you had? Did he hear you up and make the conscious decision to join you? His face gave away nothing as you looked at his profile as it glowed before the flames.

“May I ask you something, Osferth?” Your voice hasn’t reached above a faint whisper. The peace that settled between the both of you had calmed your heart of its reckless pounding, but you still craved just how intimate this felt.

“Anything, my lady.” His lips tilted at the corner facing you in an almost teasing fashion. You understood then that he continued to call you that because you got a rise out of it. He was teasing you.

“Do you fear me?” Your question hung in the air for a brief moment. Osferth, through his ever growing confidence, turned his head and locked his gentle eyes with yours. The glow of the fire before you illuminated both of your features, casting sharp shadows where the light of the flames did not touch.

“Would you think me weak if I said yes?” Osferth’s words were soft, as was his expression. You were the first to break contact, your eyes moving to the fire, then down to your hands, once more picking over the inked skin in your palm.

“No,” You breathed, looking back up to Osferth earnestly. “I have never thought you as weak, Osferth. Foolish in the beginning, perhaps, but never weak.” You licked your bottom lip in nervousness, your anxieties trying to take over. He chuckled breathily as he saw your foot shake anxiously. He let his leg fall flat next to your leg and tapped your shaking foot with his. You looked back to Osferth and he was already watching you.

It was strange for Osferth to see your stone facade crack. For the time he’d known you, up until very recently, you were unshakable. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what the glances you gave him meant. He knew why you were watching him in the battlefield that day, why you were there to pull him out. Why you had saved his life when he would have surely died otherwise. Osferth felt the bloom of affection swell in his chest. His longing wasn’t quite so…noticeable. Or so he thought. Finan and Uhtred’s hawk-like gazes caught every glance he threw in your direction, every proud look he graced you with. Osferth had eyes for you and only you, and you were too stuck in your own mind to see it.

You continued, “I do hope you understand that if there is ever a man to walk this realm without fear of me…it is you, Osferth.” You confessed. Osferth held his breath as he stared at you with his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

“Me?” He found the courage to speak. Emotions were swirling within him in a tsunami. The waves of possible rejection were receding, and hope surged forward in an unrelenting crash.

“Yes.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts as they fled your mind. “You are not like them, Osferth.” He knew the reference was to your companions and he couldn’t help but deflate just a little at your words. You still saw him as less than, he thought. The hope that had surged just moments prior had all but left as he thought on what you said.

Osferth was far from a true warrior, he’d admit, but he did his very best with each day to grow stronger, faster, and more cunning. Training alongside you, with your guidance, had pushed him to want to be the warrior that was worthy of just a glance from you, and he felt as if he had been stabbed through his heart to learn that it wasn’t enough.

“Though you try to be like them, I wish you wouldn’t.” Oh, he thought in confusion. You let a few more moments pass between you.

Osferth waited on baited breath for every word that left your lips. A sharp gasp left his lips as you brought a hand to his chest and pushed it against his heart gently. Oh, he realized. You could feel the beating of his heart increase instantly.

“There is something within you, Osferth. Something good -pure- that takes a hold of me in moments such as this.” Your voice cracked and Osferth saw tears line your kohl lined eyes as his hands came to cup over yours on his chest affectionately. “So close, yet just far enough that I cannot reach.”

“My Lady,” There wasn’t a teasing tilt of his lips as he said it.

“Do not, Osferth.” You begged, rolling your eyes up to stop the tears from falling. You tried to bring your hand back, but Osferth held true, not allowing you to retreat when you had given him a shred of a rope to grasp onto. His hands held yours to his chest with purpose, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

“It is there for you to take,” He offered humbly, eyes pleading with you to understand his words. He was yours, and would always be yours.

“You do not mean that.”

“I do,” He breathed your name “Before the eyes and ears of God, I speak only the truth. My heart is yours. It has been for some time.” You shook your head, turning away from Osferth and pulling your hand from him.

“A heart as pure as yours is deserving of more than I can give.” You reasoned.

“You do not know that.”

“I do.” You argued vehemently. “It is you who does not know whom you give your affects so freely to.” The quilt was wrapped around you once more as a form of protection.

“Do you hold affection for me?” Osferth boldly asked.

“You know I do. You wouldn’t be sitting here if you thought otherwise.”

“Then why do you not allow yourself to receive mine?”

“Because I have been tainted in ways you could never imagine.” Your voice rose. “While Uhtred was sold into slavery with a shipmaster, I was not so lucky.” Tears slipped from your eyes as you curled further into yourself.

“Is this why you flee from me? You are ashamed of something tragic that befell you? That was of no fault of your own?” Osferth’s gentle touch met your chin to tilt your head in his direction. A deep sadness flooded his eyes as your lip trembled. “Have you spoken to anyone about what happened to you?”

“Uhtred knows…but Lady Gisela was the only one to truly know what I went through.” Osferth’s heart cracked at the mention of Gisela. A truly kind woman who only treated those around her with respect unless given reason otherwise. She was sorely missed.

Osferth pulled you to him, slotting your cocooned body between his legs and held your back to his chest. You were careful of disturbing his still healing wound as Osferth’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly to him.

Osferth nestled his chin on your shoulder boldly. His lips were so close to your ear that you felt the vibrations as he spoke.

“I will take all that you will afford me and I will want for nothing more, my Lady. You will never bear this burden alone, so long as I live. I promise you this.”

“You would damn your soul?”

“I would ask for forgiveness, should he require it of me. God is forgiving. He is just. He is understanding…” Osferth looked into your eyes. “He would not turn me from you when it is He who led me on a path to you.”

One of your hands snaked out of the quilt and nudged itself between Osferth’s just over your chest. His fingers immediately intertwined with yours and he bravely kissed the side of your head, just above your ear. It was short and quick, but you felt like you were ascending.

“You would tempt it? With your God?” You questioned, turning your head ever so slightly to look at him.

“I would.” He replied without hesitation. His eyes lowered to your lips and he leaned down to rest his forehead against the side of yours.

“I would not ask this if you.” You whispered, your lips a hair’s width from his.

“Then do not ask.” Osferth closed the space and let his lips meet yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and intimate. Your hand untangled from his and found purchase on the column of his neck. His skin was soft and warm against your fingertips. His hands mirrored yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he could while his lips continued to take all they could from you.

Osferth could not believe the soft mewls you breathed against his open mouth, nor could he believe that this was truly happening. He was ready for the rug to be pulled out from beneath his, for his eyes to open from the dream he had so many times before where he confessed to you and caressed you into the late hours of the night.

You were the first to break free. Resting your forehead against his, both of you panted as you braved yourselves. Neither of you loosened your hold on one another as you caught your breath. Osferth pulled back just far enough to press a kiss between your brows. He let his lips linger for a moment before guiding your head down to rest on his chest.

Opening the quilt, you wrapped it around his torso with you sandwiched between. Not a single word was shared the remainder of the night as you both lulled to sleep. Osferth’s hands found themselves either nestled between your own or skimming up and down your back in comforting motions. By the time he closed his eyes, you were already asleep and the fire was dying down.

“Found ‘em.” Finan alerted Sihtric in a whisper as he rounded the table in the hall. He stared down at you and Osferth cradled in each others arms. Both early risers, you’d somehow slept through most of the morning and hadn’t moved as much as an inch in the night. Sihtric raised a dark brow at the scene before him when he stood next to Finan.

“Should we wake them?” Sihtric asked, looking to Finan.

“Nah, let’s just leave ‘em be.” He smiled conspiratorially at Sihtrid, who slowly mirrored his look. “There’ll be plenty of time for teasin’ when they decide to wake their lazy arses up.”

#osferth imagine #Osferth x reader #Osferth #the last kingdom #the last kingdom imagine #tlk imagine #tlk one shot #the last kingdom one shot #x reader #soft fic #ewan mitchell

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