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#sigtryggr x oc
apolloanddaphnis · 2 months
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Sigtryggr x Uhtred's Daughter Headcanons Part I
Disclaimer: She is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter, a year older than Stiorra. Because of this I don't see the harm in naming her instead of calling her 'y/n', because I doubting 9th century times of Saxons and Danes with Dane parents she will be named Ashley or Cameron or Soledad, most of these languages didn't even exist yet.
With that rant aside, I am giving her the Norse name Kelda, and because she is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter she's going to resemble them.
Kelda is the oldest child of Uhtred and Gisela
When their mother left for Valhalla she took on the maternal role.
She looks after her father because he cannot look after himself when it comes to eating and getting enough sleep.
She encouraged Young Uhtred's dream of following the path of the nailed God, and was always trying to convince her father he must be supportive, and that he has that rebellious nature he inherited from him, and being a Rebel in this family means being a Christian
As much as she wanted to smother Stiorra for whining and complaining about being stuck with the children and in hiding, she refrained and understood how frustrating it could be. She prayed to Snotra at least ten times a day for guidance and wisdom.
She needed Stiorra though, for she's more of a warrior than Kelda.
Stiorra does what sisters do and taunt Kelda, saying she's too soft for a Dane and they would never want a flowery wife, Claiming she's better for a Saxon man.
Kelda rolled her eyes but she did worry.
She spends many time in the forest, worshipping the the huldrefolk, the skogsrå, Freya, and the nature deities. Often found dancing ritual circles outside, often naked.
She is very beautiful but doesn't see it herself, a womanly soft figure she resents, wanting to be petite like Stiorra like her mother was. Her breasts could hardly ever even be confined by her dresses.
And how she wished her hair were smoothe like silk like Stiorra and her mother.
Instead wild curls that tangled down to her wide hips was what Kelda possessed. A golden brown color amd usually adorn with flowers or prettily plaited. She washed it everyday with a lye soap she made with mint and lavender herbs, the lye is what caused her light brown hair to have a goldness to it. She would bathe in honeysuckle oil water she made as well and wash her face four times a day with chamomile soap and water. She dedicated these grooming times and beauty spells to Freyja.
Stiorra felt it to be silly and vain of Kelda, but these routines kept her constantly tumultuous life going, to being Uhtred's daughter, a little sane.
Kelda sewed herself dresses usually a similar color to cornflower, it was as her favorite as well as earthy blush tones, all made her hair color more pronounced, looked lovely against her sun-kissed skin (since she was always outside), made her very fully rosy lips appear more rosy, and her warm doe brown eyes appear almost golden.
She used to be very fond of Finan, and would learn Gaelic from him , but when she became older she realized how silly she was and felt nothing for him but familial love.
When she, Lady Aelswith, Stiorra, and Aethelstan were kidnapped, she was very afraid but only for the others not herself.
She vowed to do anything to protect them.
The stares of Haestens men did make her weary though, the way they'd comment on her sweet smell or her soft hair, or comment on her breasts. Stiorra squeezed her hand when she saw her sister tear up in fear of being taken by force.
But miraculously the journey to Winchester, or what was left of it, she was unharmed they all were.
When they arrived, she felt ill of the wild pregnant shieldmaiden, the Goddesses warned her she could feel it. But she stood in front of Stiorra and Aethelstan protectively looking brave and showing no weakness.
Catching the eye of the warlord, Lord Sigtryggr of Ireland.
His icy blue eyes had the most difficult time removing from this maiden who was obviously Freyja herself in the flesh.
He looked stoic to all in the room but all he could think of focus on, was how well her developed body filled out her torn blue dress, looking like a tempting huldrakall with her thick blood colored lips beckoning him like a spell, wild and beautiful goddess like hair with a color that reminded him of the sun lighting the earth, wanting to smell the locks. He looked into her wide, innocent eyes, lidded with long eyelashes and a pretty dark shade of the earth. Her cheeks are round and rosy despite her sun-kissed skin and Sigtryggr hardly recognized himself, for no maiden has ever made him feel this way. Unable to breathe, forgetting his plan and reason.
Brida demanded them to prove that they are Danes and asked the other girl who Frigga's handmaiden is, he was impressed with her correct answer proving her Dane heritage. She insulted the beauty and called her a Saxon outright. But she surprised Sigtryggr and all in the room when her sweet, soft voice spoke back with firmness. "I am a Dane like my sister, I worship Frigga and Freyja, I dance in midsommar for Sól and braid flower wreaths, I give myself to Freyja's Magick, pray at her alter. And right now I look to Snotra for guidance!"
His heart never raced so fast, and Brida seemed to recognize the girls claiming them to be the Dane-Slayer's children.
Brida wanted to throw the beauty to the men but Sigtryggr didn't let her, calmly demanding her presence with him.
Little did he know, she too could hardly take her eyes off of him as well.
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idksmtms · 2 months
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Sigtryggr Masterlist
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Series
Under construction...
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Oneshots
Hostage Situation - (Sigtryggr x reader - coming soon)
During the siege of Winchester, you, palace maid, are called to speak to Sigtryggr. He sees your intelligence, knows you would have been quiet but would know lots of information about Edward and the royals. He doesn't expect you to be beautiful and so easy to fall in love with as well...
The Forgotten Princess - (Sigtryggr x Princess!reader - coming soon)
As negotiations begin for Winchester, you find that Edward would rather burn down the city than retreat for your life. Still, Sigtryggr won't let anything happen to you. You are his favourite captive after all.
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AUs
Coming soon...
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osferth · 2 years
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shieldmaiden
summary: Eydís has long been the most loyal of Brida’s shieldmaidens. They have always been close, but Brida’s enslavement following their defeat at Tettenhall changes everything. For Eydís, it means reuniting with a boy - no, a man - she never once thought she would see again.
pairing: sigtryggr x oc
tagging: @levithestripper @morosemagick @timetravelingpenguin1066 @volvaaslaug (thank you for your help!!!) @treasures-of-jorvik @1blue-green1 @fallingintomagic
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Many Danes lie dead on the battlefield at Tettenhall. Those that survive have no leader: Cnut’s body has been found in the woods, and Brida is missing. Eydís sits awake well into the night, for sleep does not have the decency to spare her from the memories of all that she has lost. 
A rumour begins to swirl around their depleted camp that Brida has been enslaved by the Welsh, that Uhtred Ragnarson had been seen nearby, and suddenly Eydís feels a hot rush of anger towards the Dane-Slayer for letting it happen. She knows Brida will have wished for Valhalla, and he - despite all that he has suffered - did not fulfil that wish.
But there is little to be done. The Saxons have the victory, the numbers, and the Danes have neither. It is with a heavy heart that Eydís sends her prayers to the gods, even though she knows that recovering Brida will be close to impossible.
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After months of bleak news, a report of Danes sighted in Wealas sends Eydís all but flying down to the kingdom with only a few men in tow. She doesn’t stop until she reaches Deheubarth, where she finally sees these Danes for herself.
The first to greet her is Brida, whose stomach is significantly rounder than when Eydís had seen her last. She is pathetically relieved to see that both Brida and her child appear to be as well as possible under the circumstances.
“I did not see you after the battle… I feared you hadn’t survived,” says Brida, drawing Eydís into a hug.
Eydís holds her tightly. “I was worried myself,” she weakly grins, although she sobers upon noticing the angry bruises marking Brida’s neck and wrists. “I hope you killed the bastards that did this to you.”
Brida smirks. “You arrived in time, then.”
Despite their warm reunion, guilt continues to eat away at Eydís. “I am sorry we didn’t come back for you. We wanted to, truly-”
“There was little you could have done,” Brida says. “I understand. Please don’t think that I’m angry with you, I could never be.”
Eydís knows she speaks the truth, but still tears well up in her eyes. “Forgive me-”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Brida assures her, embracing her regardless. “Now come,” she adds, wiping Eydís’ face with a smile.
She beckons Eydís into the great Welsh palace, although it has been all but desecrated. Several warriors sit idly chewing on the food scattered across tables, following them with her eyes. There is something strangely familiar about some of them, but Eydís cannot seem to put her finger on it. 
“I came as soon as I heard talk of Danes here,” she admits, watching the men she brought sit alongside the others. Soon, they are talking and laughing as though they have known each other for longer than a few minutes, and the sight brings a smile to her face.
“Yes. They sailed over from Irland,” Brida says, giving her a knowing look, and at once Eydís’ head snaps up. 
She had once counted herself as one of them, back before they moved across the sea. Her childhood spent in Irland is now little more than a memory, although one she often looks back on with a great deal of fondness. 
To now be faced with it is something else entirely.
“Eydís,” a somewhat-familiar voice asks, “is that really you?”
His hair is longer, she thinks, and his voice has deepened. While such change is to be expected after a decade, it still manages to come as a shock to her.
“Indeed it is, Sigtryggr,” she answers finally. “You’ve grown.”
“While you have not,” he replies with a tinge of amusement, and she rolls her eyes. 
“Rognvaldr is not with you?” she questions, looking around unsuccessfully for his brother. 
Sigtryggr shakes his head, regret seeping into his features. “I had no time to go back for him, but… I have been told he is alive.” 
“Did you hear where he could be?” 
“Iceland,” he answers. “I understand he has joined the Danes there.”
Eydís sighs. She grew up with both brothers, and as idiotic as Rognvaldr was back then, she knows the love Sigtryggr has for him. Being separated like this must be a terrible burden to bear.
“You miss him,” she says finally. He nods. “Then, we can miss him together.”
The corners of Sigtryggr’s lips turn upward and Eydís returns his smile. 
“When will we be leaving here, then?” she asks eventually.
Strangely, he frowns. “Leaving? To go where?”
“To Wessex or Mercia,” says Brida, chewing on a leg of chicken as she strolls over to them. “I'm tired of killing farmers and their wives.”
Her thoughts mirror Eydís’ own.
“My men have travelled from Irland after months of battle,” Sigtryggr points out. “They are tired. And where better to rest than here? We have food. We are safe. There's no reason to leave.”
Eydís wills herself to understand his perspective, but she simply cannot - the Sigtryggr she knew would have leapt at the chance to avenge them. “Edward and Uhtred slaughtered our kin. They must pay for that! Surely you-”
“And they will,” Sigtryggr says, calmly cutting across her.
Eydís does not know where this new attitude is coming from, but right now it is beyond infuriating.
“When?” Brida demands.
“When the time is right,” he replies simply.
Eydís rolls her eyes to the heavens. For once, can he not be so fucking serene?
“I did not keep myself alive in that hole in the ground to watch your men get fat here while the Saxons grow stronger,” Brida spits.
“They are weak now after Tettenhall,” Eydís adds. “They will not expect us to attack.” Although her words are reasonable, her tone is clipped. 
Sigtryggr sighs.
“You have a warrior's spirit, and this is good,” he says. “But if I ask my men to fight, it must be for a reason I believe in. They will fight to protect their families, or for food, or for land. But vengeance for Tettenhall... it is not enough.”
Incredulously, Eydís stares at him. “So we will wait until the Saxons grow stronger and risk another Tettenhall, then.”
“Eydís-”
“What?” she snaps. “Is that not what will happen?”
“I-”
“I will go to find our allies to the north,” Brida interjects before they can argue, although her own irritation is tangible. “They will fight the Saxons.”
Sigtryggr exhales and nods. “Then that is what you must do.”
“I will need ten men to escort me on my journey. You owe me that.”
“You can have five.”
Eydís glares at him, and storms off without a word.
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Wandering the halls of the palace surprisingly helps to soothe her temper. The noise in the room she left fades with every step she takes, until soon she is embraced with silence. It gives her time to think.
Eydís simply cannot equate the reckless, ambitious boy she had grown up alongside with the cool, indifferent man she has just clashed with after ten years apart, no matter how hard she tries.
She takes a left and finds herself in the largest bedroom she has ever seen. It must have belonged to a princess or a queen, if the silk dresses scattered across the ornate furniture are anything to go by. 
Eydís looks completely out of place in comparison. Her braid is messy, her armour worn, her eyes tired and sad. Sighing, she kicks her boots off and sits cross-legged on the bed, staring at the pendant of Thor’s hammer in her hands. It had belonged to a friend of hers, one who had died at Tettenhall. Eydís half-believed she would never stop mourning him.
“Eydís?”
It is Sigtryggr, awkwardly standing in the doorway as though he is unsure whether to enter or not. The uncharacteristic sight almost makes Eydís smile.
“Brida is going to kill her captor. Will you watch?”
Despite her happiness at being reunited with Brida, Eydís has no intention of doing so. “Do not delay her,” she says simply. “I’ll stay here.”
“As you wish,” Sigtryggr replies. “I will send for you when she leaves.”
Eydís nods. “Thank you,” she says curtly.
He gives her a crooked smile that she inexplicably returns before he turns to leave - and just for a moment, she sees the boy she had once adored.
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It is not long before Sigtryggr returns, this time without a word that needs to be said. Eydís jumps up at once, secretly grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. Any longer and she feels she may go mad.
After a long embrace, Eydís sees Brida off. As her shieldmaiden, she offers to accompany her at first, but Brida quickly refuses, insisting that Eydís needs to remain behind and reacquaint herself with Sigtryggr… no matter how badly they have clashed at first.
“She will be safe,” Sigtryggr says, moving to stand beside her.
Eydís merely nods. She watches until they are out of sight, and wordlessly walks away to eat.
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Eydís knows she has not been herself since Tettenhall, and nobody expects her to be. They all respect her reluctance to join in their conversation and her wish to be left alone. So it annoys her to no end when Sigtryggr catches up to her as she is about to return to her room.
“Can I speak with you?” he asks.
“About what?” But she already knows the answer.
His gaze is almost beseeching, willing her to shed her cold demeanour and allow him to explain himself. It is only, only because she had loved him once that she lets him in.
“Speak, then,” she says shortly. “Tell me why the loss of our people at Tettenhall is not a good enough reason to fight.”
“I am not minimising your loss,” sighed Sigtryggr. “But if I am to be a good leader to my men, I must be cautious.”
“My loss,” she scoffs.
The look he gives her hints at exasperation. “What use is an attempt at vengeance if it is not to our advantage?”
Eydís laughs derisively. “So you will content yourself with a Welsh fortress, then, and fight only to defend it against Hywel or invaders.”
“I have control here,” Sigtryggr counters her, “enough to create stability for the Danes that they will not find elsewhere.”
“And what about all those dreams you told me about?” Eydís says accusingly. “Time and time again! About how you would become a great warrior, how you would rule over your own kingdom! The Sigtryggr I knew would never settle for this, he would never miss an opportunity to avenge his fellow Danes!”
Sigtryggr exhales deeply. “That was the wishful thinking of a green boy,” he reasons after a moment. “Eydís, I understand your pain-”
“Do you?” Eydís shouts suddenly. “Do you really?”
His infuriatingly serene attitude towards her suffering thus far has not exactly proven that he has even a semblance of empathy.
“Yes,” he insists, “I do. More than you know.”
“No, you don’t,” Eydís hisses. “You have no idea. If you did, you would be angry. You would be raring to show the bastards exactly what happens to those who hurt us. You would feel the need to avenge those you lost, and instead-”
“I understand perfectly well,” Sigtryggr interjects, his voice a little louder than he perhaps intended it to be.
To Eydís, it finally sounds like his calm, collected mask is slipping. 
“Where is your anger, then?” she asks. “Where is your willingness to fight? ”
His jaw clenches for a second. “I promise you, it is there. But we cannot blindly rush to our deaths as Cnut rushed to his!”
“We will not be blindly rushing to our deaths!” she snaps. “Did you not hear Brida’s words? Tettenhall has weakened them. If we do not strike now, then we give them enough time to prepare themselves. This is the best chance we have, Sigtryggr. Only a fool would give it up.”
She is met with silence, and realises at once the truth behind his reluctance.
“You’re afraid.”
Sigtryggr’s head snaps up at this, and he gives her a hard stare. “Of what?”
“You’re afraid of repeating Cnut’s mistakes,” she says.
“It is not fear that drives me to make my decisions,” Sigtryggr counters, but his voice has risen again. 
Eydís merely shakes her head. “There’s no use in lying to me. This isn’t some tactical decision based purely on logic or strategy. No… you are afraid of repeating whatever took place in Irland, aren’t you?”
This mention of Irland is the final crack in Sigtryggr’s calm exterior.
“Then forgive me for not allowing myself to be ruled by my every whim!” he shouts. “Forgive me for not wanting to see my men share the same fate as your friends!”
His flippant language quickly reignites her anger. “My friends?”
“Yes, your friends!” he retorts. “I-”
“They were my family,” Eydís interrupts, her voice a guttural growl. “Don’t you dare speak of them when you cannot even find the courage to help us avenge them. Don’t you dare.”
He opens his mouth to speak, and she hopes his next words will be an apology, because if not-
“Why not? If I am the coward for keeping my men safe, then Cnut is the fool for allowing yours to be slaughtered.”
At this callous remark, Eydís finally loses all control. “Get the hell out of this room!” she screams. “I can’t even look at you right now!” 
Her breathing is ragged with rage as he gives her one final unreadable look before leaving, perhaps accepting that he has gone a step too far.
She slams the door behind him as soon as he has passed through the doorway. Much of her heated fury falls away in that instant and is replaced with grief. 
Eydís ignores the dirt on her boots soiling the fine linen sheets as she sits on the bed and cries for all that she has lost. Not just her friends, her family - but her friendship with Sigtryggr, too. She cannot help but recall the childhood she spent with him, questioning how something so happy and innocent can be destroyed so badly. Ten years spent apart has created distance between the two of them, and she wonders whether it can ever be closed.
As angry as she is with him, she misses him, too. Even when they quarrelled as children, the feeling it invoked has remained the same - it is unbearable.
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After an indefinite amount of time, one of Sigtryggr’s men appears at her door.
“You are needed,” he says.
Eydís scowls. “What for?”
“Sigtryggr believes Hywel will return tonight to retake this place,” he answers, either indifferent or oblivious to her foul mood. “He is devising a plan as we speak.”
In truth, this is something she should have anticipated but, with the tumultuous events of the past few hours, their current situation has not crossed her mind even once.
Still, she reasons, this will be good. Battle will harden her weakened spirit.
Sigtryggr’s plan is simple: they will fire up arrows and rain them down upon the Welsh force - thereby setting the field ablaze and trapping them within the flames, leaving what remains of them for his men to swiftly finish off.
Despite the icy atmosphere between the two of them, they silently elect to remain beside each other throughout the fight, which occurs nearby in Dinefwr. As predicted, King Hywel and his men return under the cover of darkness, and are promptly surprised by the Danes. 
Not being particularly proficient with a bow of any sort, Eydís waits with Sigtryggr until Hywel orders a retreat and is promptly thwarted by a second line of fire. She draws her sword and pushes her way through with the other men, hacking and slicing at what is left of Hywel’s men until there is no one left standing.
Breathing heavily with adrenaline, she lowers her sword and instinctively looks around until her eyes finally land on Sigtryggr. Her anger towards him is momentarily forgotten in favour of relief, although she always knew he would live today. 
He, too, is surveying the smouldering battlefield, and she lets herself admire him for a moment - how far he has come. Where once was a budding fighter now stands a true warrior. Although it is a natural progression, Eydís only wishes she could have been there to witness it.
His head turns while her eyes are still on him and they inexplicably share a long gaze, trying desperately to read the other’s expression. Eydís wonders whether it is just weariness in his eyes, or perhaps a longing for the same things as her. The simple security of childhood, the fledgling affection between them that may well have grown into something more had she not left so suddenly.
The moment is quickly shattered when someone approaches Sigtryggr to speak, and both turn away from each other with the same churning feeling in their stomachs.
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As Eydís approaches the door to her room that night, she finds Sigtryggr already waiting there for her. Rather than turning him away, she enters and wordlessly bids him to follow her in. 
Sigtryggr begins to speak as soon as they are both seated at the foot of the bed.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he says. Eydís breaks her gaze from the floor to look at him, her expression unreadable. “It was thoughtless and stupid of me.”
“I know,” she replies, inadvertently making him smile.
“I did not mean to hurt you,” he continues, “but I know my words did the opposite. I’m truly sorry, Eydís.”
She regards him for a moment; his guilt is palpable, the sincerity in his eyes clear, and her heart yearns to forgive him in an instant. 
“I know,” she repeats. “It’s alright.”
A line appears between his brows. “You lost so many dear to you,” he says. “The last thing you needed was for me to-”
“Sigtryggr,” she says. “It is in the past now. What’s done is done.”
All she wants now is to forgive and forget, but before she can do the latter, there is something she needs to know.
“What happened in Irland?” she asks gently.
Sigtryggr swallows, and Eydís feels her stomach sink. Every warrior has experienced defeat in some form or another, but this feels much heavier than that.
“We were driven out of our settlements by the Irish,” he says eventually, staring at the floor. “What you see here is all that is left of us. Many were lost, they-”
He breaks off and puts his head in his hands. Eydís gently squeezes his shoulder until he can collect himself well enough to speak again.
“I dream about it sometimes,” he admits. “Everything that could go wrong, did. I am lucky that Rognvaldr survived, but everyone else, they…”
Eydís watches this brave, stoic warrior fall apart before her eyes, and she takes him in her arms without a second thought. Her heart breaks as she imagines the worst, and tears soon leave tracks in the soot on both their faces. His mother and father and little Ødger, who had been a second family to her during her time in Irland - they are no more.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t know.”
Sigtryggr sits back, but his hands linger on her forearms. “Exactly. Do not apologise, Eydís. You didn’t know.”
“Even so. I suppose we both feel like shit now.”
He smiles at that. “We don’t have to.”
In response, he receives a questioning look. 
“At the very least, we have each other now, don’t we?” he says. 
Eydís rolls her eyes at the sappy phrasing, but the corners of her lips turn upward slightly. He is right, they do - for better or for worse.
“I will not keep anything hidden from you any longer,” he promises. “We always used to quarrel as children because of that, and we have spent far too long apart to repeat that.”
Eydís grins - he never would have admitted this as a boy.
“While we have the time, I would like to get to know you again, Eydís.”
“Me too,” she says brightly. “What would you like to know first?”
Sigtryggr laughs. “Well, to begin with, how have you been?”
Eydís hums. “Lonely, mostly. I miss everyone.”
“I do, too,” he says softly. “So, we can miss them together.”
At the familiar phrasing, a smile tugs at Eydís’ features.
“I missed you,” she murmurs, resting her head on his chest. His arms wrap around her at once, as though they were always meant to be there. “You fought well today, you know. You’ve finally become quite the warrior.”
Sigtryggr presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I would hope so,” he grins. “Thank you, hjartað mitt. I missed you too… even your sharp tongue.”
Eydís snorts, but his words warm her cheeks. 
“You’ve always been quite the warrior,” he continues with a smile.
“Well, that only took you over a decade to admit,” she laughs, and he laughs too. 
Irland and Tettenhall may have changed the two of them in more ways than one, but not for the worse. Despite everything, the love they have for one another has survived - and no matter how stupidly sentimental that sounds to Eydís, she knows it is the truth.
.
hjartað mitt = my heart
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icarusignite · 1 year
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TLK Masterlist
- Union of the Gods (Sihtric x OC)
Chapters: 0 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
“The first thing God made is love Then comes blood And the thirst for blood So take me back Oh, drunken gods of slaughter You know I've always been your favorite daughter.”
- Valhalla Bound (Finan)
During the ransacking of Rumcofa, you save Osferth thus exchanging his fate for yours. aka you die and Finan’s reaction to that lol.
- Night Terrors (Sihtric)
Sihtric has a nightmare, and he accidentally snaps at you. What comes after is the most awkward confession of his life and you are oblivious af. 
- Praying's just a poor man's way of begging
You are Earl Ragnar's youngest daughter and the boy you've spent many pleasant afternoons with as a child was none other than Sihtric Kjartansson. Reunited after years apart, will the two of you be able to face the truth of your feelings or will it all end in heartache?
Will be adding more oneshots & stuff!
Taglist: comment to be added :)
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lysetsnow · 2 months
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Before he broke his curse and ended Skade's life? She gave him a son. A son she predicted to be of both male and female spirit, and she was right. Stormr Uhtredsson has always been much too beautiful to be a boy, and he wears his hair long like a Dane and looks just like his mother. But Uhtred and his men all adore Stormr despite his resemblance to his mother and care not that he looks just like a woman. They adore him and are protective of him, and he is close to Hild and grows to be a Christian witch, he can see the future but he talks to angels and he collects herbs in the woods, he wears rosaries of strings of crystals. And has caught he eye of Sigtryggr Ivarsson.
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sigtryggrswifey · 3 months
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Update
Where have I been?
Hello! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I spent time writing over on Wattpad and I almost completely ignored Tumblr. In all honesty, it was just frustrating to keep up with Tumblr, but enough with these excuses!
I am writing again. I will be writing again.
Sometime tonight there will be a boxer!Sigtryggr x fem!reader x boxer!Sihtric post. Inspired by the fighter series on the @sihtricfedaraaahvicius blog, it’ll be a three part series. It will be posted on both Wattpad and Tumblr. On Saturday there’ll also be a fugitive!Sigtryggr x fem!reader x cop!Sihtric three part series beginning to swallow your screens. A few requests are waiting in my drafts that I’ll try to get to throughout the rest of January.
The master list will be updated soon. Chapters will be taken down here on Tumblr, as I have edited them with major differences. On Wattpad you can always find the newest version of The Better of Two Evils book plus my latest on updates.
My updates consist of information regarding posts/posting, things happening on my pages to announce, or things on the way for writing like requests.
There is a Coming Soon announcement and post over on Wattpad for a Sihtric x fem!OC book happening in the summer, 2024.
As for tag lists. They are a bit new to me. I am continually looking for and adding people to my tag list, so if you would like to be added or be removed you can reach out. I’ll get back to you about it as soon as I can.
tag list: @synindoodles @gemini-mama @lord-aldhelm @whitedarkmoonflower @destinyintomadness @verenahx @sweetest-catha
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willowbrookesblog · 11 months
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Hi I'm Willow and here's my masterlist | some things about me 😊
Free Palestine 🇵🇸 Free Congo 🇨🇩 Free Sudan 🇸🇩
If you support Israel or the genocide of any innocent human being around the world, Please block me.
I don't get political on here but human lives are not political.
From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.
I like a lot of things like I don't know your mom?, some of the movies/series includes: The Lost Boys (1987), The Last Kingdom, That Modern Family, and House of The Dragon.
The music includes: Girl in Red, Ghost, Fall out Boy, Avril Lavigne Sleep Token, Melanie Martinez, and Taylor Swift.
---Masterlist---
{} The Lost Boys {}
The Lost Ones (The Lost Boys x Ocs)
The Lost Ones: Evelyn
The Lost Ones: Roseanne
The Lost Ones: Elise
The Lost Ones: Sage
| The Lost Ones: Chapter 1 |
~^~^~
Marko headcanons
Paul headcanons
---- ----- ----
{The Last Kingdom}
I'm afraid of you | Sigtryggr Ivarsson x Reader
@oceansrose2002 @britany1997 @henhouse-horrors @beoneofus @redrosewritingsstuff @house-of-slayterr @phantomenby @charlizekkelly @ria-coolgirl @pixielostboy @pitiful-anonymous-vampire @auntvamp @luminnara @arianamhm
If you want to be added or taken off the taglist for this story please dm me!
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emilyhufflepufftlk · 2 years
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Ems300 Challenge Masterlist
Thank you all so much for participating in my challenge. All your creations have been so good! If anyone is still working on the prompts they picked, there is no rush! Whenever you have finished post them and I’ll add your work to this masterlist. Love you all 💜💜💜
The One with All the Cheesecakes (Aethelstan x Osbert) by @morosemagick
The One with the Lesbian Wedding (Aelflaed x Alys, Aethelflaed x Aldhelm) by @aethelreds
The One with the Blind Date (Sihtric x Uhtred) by @ulfrsmal
The One with the Birth (Finan x Ingrith) by @aethelreds
The One After Aethelstan & Cynlaef Kiss by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
The One with the Cooking Class (Finan x OC) by @illjustgositinthecorner
The One after ‘I Do’ (Finan x OC) by @writingafterdeath
The One where Sigtryggr meets Stiorra’s dad (moodboard) by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
The One where they are up all night (Tommy Shelby x Reader) by @runnning-outof-time
The One After Y/N and Sihtric Kiss (Sihtric x Reader) by @geekandbooknerd
The One Where Finan Can’t Flirt (Finan x Reader) by @nanahachikyuu
A Thousand Kisses Deep (the one with all the kissing) multi-couple edit by @amuddleofnervouswords
The One with the Morning After (Finan x OC) @persephones-journey
The One with the truth about Lions (general TLK) by @93xdiagonxalley
Flip the Switch (Aethelflaed x Aldhelm) by @aadmelioraa
New Family Member (Uhtred) by @errruvande
The One in Vegas (Osferth) by @persephones-journey
Blood Runs Thin (The One with Uhtred’s Sister) by @solinarimoon
The One Where they are Just Friends (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader) by @fandomhopped
My Guiding Lights (Tommy Shelby x Reader) by @mrsalwayswrite
The One Where Ethy Finds Out (Finan x OC) by @magravenwrites - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years
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Tagged by @emilyhufflepufftlk & @solinarimoon ❤️ thanks for the tag!
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
*cracks knuckles* alright...all the wips? Here we go!
-To Call Forth Love (Ivar x OC)
-Of The Same Stone (Uhtred x OC)
-Say You'll Stay (Wardaddy x OC)
-To Be My Night And My Day (Hvitserk x plus size!reader x Sihtric)
-Temptation (Boss!Sigtryggr x reader)
-building forts (Sigtryggr x reader)
-bonfire (this one is a secret)
-Sigtryggr x reader during the seige of Wintanceaster
-Alfie Solomons x Pianist!reader
-Helen of Troy inspired (vikings)
-dangerous things (Tommy Shelby x reader)
-Dark!Tommy Shelby x OC
-Lead Me Home for @morosemagick challenge! (It's definitely going to be late...sorry)
Ummmm....yeah....that's it for the moment. I've got my list of things I haven't started yet.
Tagging (feel free to ignore): @runnning-outof-time @punkrocknpearls @lilyrachelcassidy @youbloodymadgenius @geekandbooknerd @medievalfangirl
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prpfs · 11 months
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hi! i’m looking for 18+, literate roleplay partners for the last kingdom! 💗 NSFW and mature themes are welcome but not required. i’m looking for the following OC x CC ships:
alfred the great x my OC
sigtryggr ivarsson x my OC
we can double ofc! if interested, give this a like and i’ll reach out!
Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!
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ivarinleatherpants · 2 years
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I absolutely adored your Sigtryggr x Oc fanfic!!🤩 It’s truly amazing and im happy to see that someone decided to write Sigtryggr with an OC. While i do love all the Sigtryggr x Stiorra fanfics out there i must admit i miss some of the oc or reader ones😬 So seeing your fanfic was truly fantastic!! I will be closely following your story!😍 Thank you so much for making my day❤️🥰
Thank YOU for making MY day! This is very sweet of you!
I love Sigtryggr/Stiorra as well. It's just that my personal writing muse has always been OC's and writing alternatives to canon.
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I NEED MORE SIGTRYGGR IMAGINE PLEASE
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solinarimoon · 3 years
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Fields of Wildflowers
Chapter 14
A Sihtric x OC story
AN: We’re coming to the close of this story. There will be one more chapter after this. I may do a few more one-shots with Cwen and Sihtric and depending on how season 5 plays out I may continue their story further. Thanks for reading everyone! Moodboard made by the wonderful @serasvictoria
Previous chapters here
My masterlist
Warnings: Canon style battle imagery, trauma response from previous abuses, I believe that is all
Word Count: 4,217
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cwen ran through the streets of Winchester until she reached the back entrance to the kitchens. Stopping in the doorway, she quickly scanned the room for any sign of Eadith. Cwen did not spy the fiery headed woman in the main kitchen and she was nowhere to be found in the halls most closely surrounding the kitchens either. Cwen had no idea how much time had passed since she left to bring Storria her food. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Quickly, Cwen made her way back to the kitchens, seeking out Frig.
Spying her near the stove, forming loaves for the next day's bread, she swiftly walked over to the large woman.
“Frig, do you know where Eadith is?”
“Who’s Eadith, girl? You think I know your names?” Frig was tall and wide. Cwen would have wagered she would make an intimidating opponent in a battle. She certainly commanded attention and obedience in the kitchens.
But Cwen did not let the woman’s gruff demeanour stall her search.
“She’s my friend. The redhead.”
“Oh, her. I sent her with rations for the prisoners. Come to think on it, she should probably be back by now. She left close after you did. Now wait here, girl…” but Cwen wasn’t listening as Frig called after her. She raced out of the kitchen and along the corridor towards the chapel, eyes scanning everywhere for any sign of Eadith.
When she reached the chapel, she rapped her palm on the heavy wooden door and whispered loudly through the window for Lady Aelswith before trying to slow the hammering in her chest and catch her breath.
She gasped, realizing that she still had Eardwulf’s blood staining her hands. Glancing down at herself, there were traces of his blood all over her clothes. The sight brought back the panic and Cwen felt her breathing becoming erratic once again.
“Cwen,” a voice broke through her thoughts, “Cwen, what is it?”
She shook her head and realized Lady Aelswith had made it over to the door and was trying to get her attention.
“Cwen, dear, you’re trembling. What has happened?”
Cwen stared through the bars of the window in the door for a moment before speaking, her mouth dry.
“I...I’ve killed Eardwulf,” Aelswith’s eyes snapped up to meet Cwen’s face, shocked at her admission. Cwen continued, her words coming out in rushed breaths, “He was trying to force the King’s hand to act. And… and Sigtryggr was there.. He knows I am here as a spy, but… he let me go to find Eadith.”
“The boys, Aethelstan, Sigtrygr took them. Did you see them, Cwen?” Aelswith’s voice was strained, trying to remain composed but clearly she was worried about the boys.
“I did. They were with him. He’s...,” Cwen struggled to find a way to describe her encounter with the man who was responsible for taking Winchester from the hands of Saxons. “He does not want to harm them. He told me so. I tried to keep them with me, but…,” Cwen paused and looked into Aelswith’s eyes, urging her to believe her, “I believe he truly does not want to harm them. Or any of us, if he can avoid it.”
Aelswith didn’t reply, but neither did her face hold to typical rebuke and scorn that Cwen would have expected.
Shaking her head, Cwen asked, “Eadith? Did you see Eadith? She should have brought you food, but she has not returned to the kitchen.”
“She hasn’t been here,” Lady Aelswith sighed.
Cwen felt a tingling sense of dread creep back up her fingertips and into her chest. She took a shaky breath and grasped Lady Aelswith’s hand around the bars in the window.
“I need to keep looking for her.”
“I know. Be safe, Cwen.”
Cwen turned and marched back the way she had come, sneaking past the kitchen and into the courtyard.
Thinking Eadith may have heard about the events on the ramparts, she headed back towards the Eastern gate to be met with a startling sight.
Lord Uhtred was being ushered in through the gate behind a self-satisfied looking Sigtryggr.
Cwen started forward towards her friend, but slowed to look at Sigtryggr. Silently, he gave her the slightest of nods before she sped forward to embrace Uhtred.
Speaking into Cwen’s hair, she heard Uhtred’s muffled voice, “You are alright? Let me see you.” He stepped back to take in her appearance, her blood stained clothes and hands. Uhtred took her chin in his hand and turned her so he could better look at her face, scowling at the scratches along her brow from where Eardwulf had pressed her bodily into the stone of the parapet.
Ignoring Uhtred’s hardened stare, Cwen spoke to both Sigtryggr and Uhtred in turn, “The boys? Athelstan. Are they alright?”
Before Uhtred could speak, Sigtryggr’s voice answered her concerns, firm yet gentle.
“Both children are back in their father’s embrace. Your Lord, the Dane Slayer has traded himself willingly for their release,” he folded his hands behind his back, stepped closer to speak in a lowerer tone, and added, “It would seem the gods saw fit to indulge my wish to see them unharmed.” The man stepped back now, meeting Cwen’s eye.
Uhtred watched the exchange silently, before addressing Sigtryggr.
“The boys are unharmed, but what about Cwen? Look at her face, her hands and clothes. Is this how women are to be treated in your Winchester?”
“Cwen has the heart of a survivor. Not a battle warrior perhaps, but she is strong. Aside from the scratches, the blood belongs to her enemy. A man lower than a snake,” Sigtryggr spoke with that same calm, yet commanding voice.
“That enemy was your ally,” Uhtred’s voice grew louder, etched with concern and irritation over how Cwen had been treated.
Now it was Cwen’s turn to speak, cutting off Sigtryggr's reply and trying to still the rising tension.
“I was offered care and a chance to clean up, but I refused. I needed to find Eadith.”
“And where is she?” Uhtred questioned, only then turning his studying gaze from Sigtryggr to Cwen once more.
“I do not know,” her voice was desperate and wavering, “ I was coming here to look for her. She should have brought food to Lady Aelswith, but she never made it there.”
Cwen held her fingers up to her lips, turning to scan the streets, looking for any sign of Eadith. Her breaths began to quicken once more and she turned round, wide eyed to look at Uhtred.
“I am sure she is alright, Cwen.”
“You can not know that,” Cwen cut him off.
“Excuse me, both of you,” Sigtryggr interjected, “but Uhtred must come with me. We did not allow you into the city to go on a goose hunt. You are here to meet and discuss with me.”
“Sigtryggr is right,” Uhtred agreed, cutting Cwen off before she could protest further. But turning to face Sigtryggr, his voice leaving no room for argument, “but Cwen will come with us. I will not risk another I care for being vulnerable in this city.”
“As you wish,” Sigtryggr acquiesced with a nod, then turned on his heel to walk back towards the palace, clearly expecting Uhtred and Cwen to follow him.
Alarm and panic lacing her voice, Cwen protested giving up the search for Eadith.
Uhtred took hold of her arm and began to escort her alongside him, “Winchester is large and I will not have you look in the streets alone. His lord or not, Sihtric would have my head.”
Cwen paused, gently pulling her arm back to stop Uhtred from moving further.
“My Lord, how is he?” Her words were small, anxious.
Uhtred bowed his head before looking up and taking in Cwen’s concerned expression.
“Sihtric is in agony, Cwen. The man has done nothing but fret since you left his sight, walking into the city,” Uhtred paused. His grip on her arm loosened and moved to squeeze her shoulder in comfort, “Seeing you up there has nearly broken him. He will fight every man here, Saxon or Dane, to see you back in his arms.”
Tears welled in Cwen’s eyes as she listened to Uhtred’s words. She reached her hand up to hold Uhtred’s arm on hers. Sniffling, she wiped a stray tear away.
“Come along, Dane Slayer.” Sigtryggr’s voice brought an irritated sigh from Uhtred as he and Cwen resumed their path.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cwen lifted her head groggily and sat up from the bench she had been resting on.
After arriving in the throne room, Uhtred and Sigtryggr had commenced to fight, throw insults, and banter back and forth before coming to common ground. The rest of the night consisted of developing plans to help formulate negotiations and division of lands.
It would seem Sigtryggr really did wish to be a better man than his forebears. He wanted only land and a chance for his people to thrive. A chance to prosper.
At some point, a woman had brought them food and Cwen had asked for some water to wash the blood from her hands and clean up her face.
Feeling slightly less soiled, she had laid down upon a bench pushed against the side of the hall. Almost immediately, she had felt the exhaustion of the day's events wash over her. Her body and mind were fatigued, both in equal measure.
Fretful, Cwen succumbed to sleep. But her mind was not fit for restful slumber. Flashes of images raged across her dreams.
Eardwulf’s face as blood pooled out of his mouth, his eyes full of shock and anger.
Feet, her own - she could not tell - running along city streets, turning this way and that.
Her hands clinging to a dazed Aethelstan. Still flecked with dried blood, they moved to cover the child’s eyes.
And Sihtric. His eyes. Watching her, his face stoic and careworn. Those eyes that covered her like a gentle blanket, usually full of care and comfort. Now shifting as his face broke into screams, cries filled with torment and sorrow.
Slowly, Cwen felt herself relax back into wakefulness. Her heart, along with her limbs, felt heavy. Leaden. As if she had not slept at all. The images from her mind continued to play over.
Only the knocking on the great oak doors just moments before had awoken her.
Still dazed from sleep, Cwen stood to walk over to Uhtred’s side, her hands running over her face, trying to erase her dreams..
Lord Uhtred stood bent over, his fists resting against the long table scattered with maps and documents.
“I am glad you were able to rest.”
“My body betrayed me. It was not a conscious decision,” Cwen voiced, “Nor would I consider it restful.”
Uhtred turned to look at the woman, placing a comforting hand on her back.
Cwen offered him a small smile before looking down to the maps. She reached out a hand, absentmindedly tracing the length of some river.
At that moment, Sigtryggr returned with news from his guards. Edward had attacked the city and would soon breach the walls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Urgently, Sigtryggr, Uhtred, and Cwen moved along the hallways of the palace and out into the courtyard, followed closely by several of Sigtryggr’s oathmen.
The city gates had already been breached and Saxon warriors were flowing into the courtyard to be met with the shield and swords of the Danes scrambling from all corners of the city to join the fray. The clamor of battle, swords and axes crashing against shields, men screaming and yelling with battle lust was deafening.
Cwen was met with Uhtred’s arm pushing her to stand behind him while he pleaded with Sigtryggr.
Frantically, Cwen scanned the crowd searching for Sihtric. Or anyone of her companions. But the scene was utter chaos. All she could make out was blurs of bodies whirling and clashing in a bloody dance.
Cwen’s attention was snapped back to the men in front of her as she heard Sigtryggr order one of his men to kill Uhtred if he should harm any Danes.
Next thing she was aware of, Cwen was thrust aside by large hands as Uhtred and Sigtryggr’s man began stalking their way through the fight towards King Edward.
Cwen righted herself and continued to search the crowd, looking for him. She watched the chaos as Sigtryggr prowled like a wolf on the steps beside her.
Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt the clash and reverberation of the fight in front of her ringing in her ears. The adrenaline and fear pulsed out along her limbs as she felt the grip of panic racing through her blood.
She winced when Sigtryggr called for the shield wall to be formed.
His cry lost amongst the din of the violence, Cwen covered her ears instinctively and watched while a horn blower signaled the shield wall and Sigtryggr called once more, his voice now louder and impassioned.
She saw as Edward raised his sword arm and called for Saxon’s to form the wall as well.
It felt like time slowed as Cwen watched the melee stop and the shields form the barrier along both sides of the fight.
A man stepped out from the Saxon line reaching towards something on the ground. It was Finan. Cwen watched as he stooped to pick up a figure. She recognized Eadith’s red hair and gasped as she watched men part for Finan to retreat carrying her limp body.
Then there he was, closing the hole after Finan, beside Osferth.
Cwen grasped onto Sigtryggr’s arm, from behind where he had stepped in front of her protectively.
He turned and observed her gaze, locked onto Sihtric.
“It is your man?” Sigtryggr questioned.
Not daring to take her eyes from him, Cwen gave the slightest nod.
“Come with me,” he instructed as he began moving down the stairs, Cwen continuing to hold onto his arm as they moved through the warriors.
“You will let us pass,” Sigtryggr commanded his men who shuffled out of their way to form a slender path.
Breaking through into the clearing between the shields, he saw her. His face was a mask of fierce battle rage, but his eyes softened when they met Cwen’s.
He took a step forward, pulled to reach her, before Osferth’s sword arm blocked his way.
Cwen still stood slightly behind Sigtryggr grasping his arm.
The man looked back to her, “Go,” he said. Cwen dragged her eyes away from Sihtric to glance at Sigtryggr. He nodded his head in the direction of the Saxons, towards Sihtric, “Go on.”
And the next instant, Cwen was rushing into Sihtric’s arms, crashing into him.
Still prepared for a fight, Sihtric stepped to the side, bringing her around himself, saying, “Behind me, Cwen. Stay behind me.”
He kept her arm in his grasp as she stood behind his right side, hands grasping at him, clinging to his armor.
Cwen felt him pull her hand up to his mouth, pressing a firm kiss against her knuckles and squeezing. His hand still gripped his axe as well and the feel of the wood crushed against her fingers was bruising. But it did not matter. Being back where she could find his grounding touch, Cwen felt her world right itself finally.
She pressed herself firmly against his back. Peering around his shoulder, she could see Edward and Aethelflaed had approached the center of the courtyard along with Uhtred. Sigtryggr and Edward stood staring at one another. The tension was thick as the leaders sized each other up.
Eventually, Edward and Aethelflaed agreed to enter the palace with Sigtryggr and begin negotiations.
Once the respective parties had shifted inside, the opposing armies slowly melted away to opposite portions of the city.
Cwen felt the tension slowly release in Sihtric’s shoulders as he lowered his shield and slid his axe into his belt.
She heard Osferth from somewhere nearby, questioning Sihtric. Cwen kept her eyes closed, hands fisted into his mail and leather, gripping anywhere she could find purchase.
“Where would Finan have taken Eadith?”
“Hild,” Sihtric replied, his voice low and husky, “likely, he took her to Hild.”
Without another word, the three moved along the streets passing other soldiers and frightened townsfolk milling about.
Sihtric’s arm never lost contact with Cwen, but his eye kept scanning and searching. Cwen imagined he was still on the watch for a fight, a threat. Or looking for Finan and Eadith. But she desperately yearned for his eyes to find her again.
After many twists and turns along wide streets, Cwen having no idea where they were leading, they stopped outside of a church.
Osferth only paused, noticing that Sihtric had stilled with Cwen.
Glancing between his two friends, Osferth’s lips twitched upwards into a small grin before he turned and continued up the steps and through the large oaken door.
Sihtric turned, taking Cwen’s arm in his hand and led her to the alley beside the church.
Once he turned the corner, he swept Cwen into his arms in a crushing embrace and lifted her off of the ground.
Cwen felt the seams of her composure that had been slowly unraveling rip apart. She threw her arms desperately around his shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. Strangled sobs overcame her and she started voicing incoherent apologies and fears.
Gently, Sihtric lowered her feet to the ground and ran his fingers soothingly through her tangled, chestnut hair, giving her the time to be broken.
Cwen pulled her face back from his body, her hands moving to rest along his jaw and bringing his forehead to rest against hers.
“It is alright, Cwen. I have you, now. I have you,” he chanted over and over.
In time, Cwen’s breathing slowed and her sobs ceased to wrack her entire body, to be replaced with still slightly shaky gasps.
She felt as Sihtric’s lips placed soft kisses on her forehead, down to her eyes, wiping away her tears.
Finally, his kiss found her lips. And she felt the world pause as they both melted into one another, his fingers tracing soothing lines where he cupped her neck.
When they pulled apart, Cwen met his eyes.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His lips pulled into a wide grin, but she continued before he could respond, “I do. I love you, Sihtric. And I am sorry for leaving with harsh words or feelings,” but it was Sihtric’s turn to hush her with a kiss.
When he pulled back, he made sure to look into her eyes before speaking.
“Do not apologize. What you have done takes courage. There are more ways to be strong and brave than by wielding a sword or an axe. I should not have spoken as I did. I was scared for you and let it cloud my mind and my words.”
“But you were right to be frightened,” Cwen interrupted him, “Eardwulf…” Her voice quivered when speaking his name, betraying her.
“Is dead, Cwen.” Sihtric took her face in both hands. “He can no longer harm you. You have freed yourself of him, my love.”
His eyes burned into Cwen’s own with such an intensity, she dropped her face to rest on his chest, overwhelmed.
“I was so afraid, Sihtric.”
She felt as Sihtric rested his chin on top of her head before he replied.
“Cwen, I have been in more battles than I can remember, escaped death.” he placed a kiss on the top of her head before he continued, “but I have never felt fear like that before.”
He pulled her back and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face so he could brush his thumb over the scratches and bruises forming along her cheek and brow.
“I was terrified that I would lose you. But you saved yourself. And we are together now.”
Cwen smiled at him, “I used your knife and what you taught me.”
Sihtric kissed her fiercely before he remarked, “When this is over, we will find time alone where I can love you. Where I can show my woman how she is cherished.”
Cwen felt heat rise in her cheeks. “You cherish me?” She questioned, leaning her face back towards him.
“I do, my lady,” he answered with a smirk before kissing her once more and chuckling as he felt Cwen hum against him deep in her throat.
“Do you think Osferth found them?” Cwen pondered when they finally broke apart.
Sihtric laughed, “He must have or he would have come and awkwardly interrupted us.”
Sihtric took her hand, leading her back towards the entrance of the church.
“Who is Hild?” she questioned.
Sihtric answered her as they walked, “A friend. An abbess. The first time I met her, she was sawing the head off a Dane.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cwen’s mouth was still hung open in shock when they entered the church to be approached by Osferth and an older woman with dirty blonde hair, dressed in the plain robes of the clergy.
“Cwen, this is Hild, a friend.” Osferth introduced the woman who took in Cwen’s expression and appearance.
“Was Sihtric just telling you of the first time we met? Trust me, it was not as bad as you imagine. The Dane was already dead.” Hild’s smile was genuine and caring. Osferth and Sihtric both laughed good naturedly at her jest.
Still smiling, Hild brought Sihtric in for a hug, “It is good to see you, Sihtric.”
“And you, Hild. Is Finan here?”
Hild answered him, while stepping back to stand by Osferth once more, “He is. And the lady, Eadith. I have patched her up as best I could.”
Cwen interrupted, concern lacing her voice, “will she be alright? Was she badly injured?”
“Not too badly. Some bruised and maybe broken ribs, but that is all. She needs rest, but will be fine,” Hild took hold of Cwen’s hand as she spoke, giving it a comforting squeeze, “would you like to see her?”
“I…” but Cwen hesitated.
Guessing the reason for her hesitation, Osferth interrupted, “She knows about Eardwulf, Cwen. She was more concerned with your well-being than with grief over her brother.” Cwen frowned and looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back to Hild, who gave her hand another comforting squeeze and nodded her head.
“Come on then. Follow me,” she said while releasing Cwen’s hand and turning to walk back the way they had come.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They entered the room to find Eadith sitting up with some bandages wrapped around her torso. She was holding onto Finan for support to stand. Cwen noticed the care and concern etched in the Irish warrior’s face as he stood firm by her side.
She stopped short when Eadith looked up from the floor at their entrance. But Cwen did not have long to ponder any hard feelings Eadith might hold against her for killing her brother.
Eadith exclaimed, “Cwen, oh thank God,” as she reached out the arm not steadying herself on Finan, beckoning her friend towards her.
Cwen let out a little laugh, fighting back yet more tears as she closed the few steps between them and gingerly embraced Eadith before stepping back and taking her hand.
“You’re safe,” Finan interjected, placing a chase kiss to Cwen’s temple, never losing hold of Eadith’s waist.
“As are you,��� Cwen commented nodding to Eadith, “I tried to find you after,” but the words died on her lips as she met her friend's eye.
To Cwen’s amazement, Eadith gave her a genial smile before she spoke.
“I lost the man I called my brother some time ago, Cwen. I am happy you are safe. Truly, my friend.”
Shaking her head to clear the emotions rushing to her face, Cwen took a breath before their reunion was interrupted by Hild, who cleared her throat before speaking.
“I can offer you all a bit of bread and may be able to find some cheese. It won’t be much, given the siege, but I know you must be hungry.”
Osferth replied for the group, “That would be lovely, Hild. Thank you. But we also should see if we can find out how things go with Lord Uhtred.”
The companions agreed some food would be best before Sihtric and Osferth would leave to find out how negotiations progressed.
Cwen tried to protest and go with them.
“I do not wish to be parted from you again,” she whispered as Sihtric took her aside by the arm.
“I know, Cwen. But you are exhausted. A moment ago you were almost asleep on your feet. Finan is staying to care for Eadith. You will not be alone. But you need rest.” Sihtric’s voice was low and soothing. His face close to hers and she felt the tenderness and concern in his words. “Let Hild care for your face and find you some clean clothes. I will come back to you as soon as I can.”
The idea of clean clothes and rest compelled Cwen more than she would have anticipated. But the weight of the past days events was still heavy on her and Sihtric was right, she needed the rest.
“Ok, but please don’t be away long.”
“I won’t, love. Believe me.” He kissed her softly before leaving with Osferth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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writingafterdeath · 2 years
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"I am with him. For better or for worse."  "It will most likely be for the worse I'm afraid." "I knew that the day I met him"
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morosemagick · 3 years
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Mernie's Master List !!!!
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The Last Kingdom Prompts | Open on Fridays!
Game of Thrones Prompts (Closed)
Listed here are all my finished (and unfinished) fics, one shots, drabbles and multichapers! Thank you for checking them out!
Finan the Agile
• Finan Wifey Multiverse are fics that borrow a combination of mine and my friends OCs and usually have to do with Finan, all OCs will be linked back to original creator in fic!
Listen, Before I Go | Finan x Reader
Meet Me By The River Bend | Finan x Reader
Warriors of Menance | Finan x Reader
You Deserved More | Finan x Reader
You, My Everything | Finan Reader
If You Don't Kiss Me... | Finan x Reader
Won't You Come Inside? | Finan x Reader
Experimentalist | Finan x Reader
Songs of the Unbroken | Finan x OC ✓
Longing | Finan x OC
Children of The Unbroken | (wip)
What Led You Here | Finan x OC
Built From Broken Things | Finan x OC ✓
Sucker Punch | Finan x OC (wip)
Finally Woken | Finan x OC ✓
Should We Fall | Finan x OC
What Happens Here | Finan x OC
Maybe Now. Maybe Never. & Yet, Always • FWM (wip)
Say You'll Remember Me • FWM
For My Sisters, May Love Consume Me • FWM
A Gift for Protection | Finan x Ingrith
Snap for Help | Finan x Eadith (hiatus)
Aethelstan of England
Must You Do This? | Aethelstan x Osbert
He's Handsome, Isn't He? | Aethelstan x Osbert
The One With All The Cheesecakes | Aethelstan x Osbert
Please, Take Him Back | Aethelstan & Cynlaef
Heaven is here (If You Want it) | Aethelstan x Osbert
Sihtric Kjartanson
On Your Lips, Like a Prayer | Sihtric x Reader
Don't Peak | Sihtric x Reader
Jealously | Sihtric x Reader
Dead Eyes | Sihtric x Reader
Don't Deny Me The Sun | Sihtric x Reader
An Awakening of Color | Sihtric x Reader
Lead Us Into Temptation | Sihtric x Reader
Lost Voices | Sihtric x OC (wip)
Valhalla Can't Have You | Sihtric x OC
Far From Over | Sihtric x OC
In Sickness & Health | Sihtric x OC
You Look Like You Need Me | Sihtric x Ealhswith
One of Us | Sihtric Drabble
Uhtred Ragnarson of Bebbanburg
Lady of Coccham | Uhtred x OC
We Could Be Enough | Uhtred x OC
For My Sisters, My Heart Will Mend • FWM
Osferth
Sweet Like Berries | Osferth x Reader
Follow Your Heart | Osferth x Eadith
The Last of The Real Ones | Osferth (wip)
Stiorra Uhtredsdottir
Young, Wild, Free | Stiorra x Sigtryggr
Sigrid Kjartansdottir (OFC)
Behind the Character | a Summary of Sigrid
Body and Blood | Sigrid x Finan
Where I Can't Follow | Sigrid x Finan
Keep Pulling, We'll Make It | Finan x Sigrid
Bruised Souls (Scared to Be Lonely) | Finan x Sigrid
Till our last breath, I am Yours | Finan x Sigrid
Leave Me, Like You Do | Finan x Sigrid
Be My Rock (While I Crumble) | Finan x Sigrid
Hold Me, I'm all yours | Finan x Sigrid
And What Are Songs Worth? | Finan x Sigrid
Take Me Back (To The Night We Met) | Finan x Sigrid
The Irishman Who Loved Me | Finan x Sigrid/Lucinda • FWM
For My Sisters | Finan x Sigrid • FWM
C'est Ça L'amour | Finan x OC • FWM
Drabbles
From the Skies, Watch them Fall | AU ✓
Bebbanburg, At Last | Y.Uhtred & Stiorra
At Least They Tried | Finan/Sihtric x Reader
NSFW Head Canon | Finan 2
NSFW Head Canon | Sihtric
NSFW Head Canon | Uhtred
NSFW Head Canon | Osferth
NSFW Head Canon | Aldhelm
Game of Thrones:
Jonerys
Children of Spring and Snow | WIP
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helleiaiwritting · 3 years
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Ireland*One-shot
Hey guys!
How are you? I recently reviewed season 4 of The Last Kingdom. Would you be surprised if I told you that I really appreciated Sigtryggr? I'm currently in my "Ireland" period, this country intrigues me a lot, its culture, its legends, its history... So here is a one shot called Ireland.
I specify that this time there is no happy ending... In your opinion, is it treason or is Eir only acting for the well-being of her people?
Warning: love to hate relationship. 
Pairing: Sigtryggr x OC!Eir
***
That conversation with the young Viking was still echoing in her head. She was still intrigued by this young man. She knew that he came from an illustrious family descended from Ivar the Boneless, who had reigned in Dublin for some years. Everything about him intrigued her, his voice made her tremble, his eyes hypnotized her. She could no longer hide her attraction for him, it was becoming unbearable. Her long coppery hair floated in the air as she stood on the walls, she remembered that unforgettable moment with a smile on her face.
Eir was her name, she was the pride of her clan, she inspired the spirit of her homeland. She was still attached to the ancient legends and gods that were once at the heart of the Irish. She still believed in them and refused to change her beliefs. Sigtryggr seemed to like her for this, he liked people who stood out for their originality. He had noticed her quickly, but had never spoken to her before. But soon curiosity got the better of him. One afternoon he asked to see her. He couldn't help but smile when he saw her arrive with her blue tattoos and her triskel around her neck. For a few minutes, he had a game of look between them. She didn't seem impressed or intimidated by Sigtryggr's presence, who always seemed to be austere.
"You wanted to see me?" Eir said mischievously.
Sygtriggr smiled at her as she handed him a glass of mead, she returned the smile before dipping her lips in the liquid but she thought better of it: it was not polite.
"Slainte!" she said.
"Slainte!"
Eir thought she would melt when she heard Sigtryggr say the Irish word in a northern accent. Then she noticed that he seemed calmer and still on the defensive: he was wary of her.
"Let's stop the civilities and tell me what you want to tell me so urgently," said Eir.
"My question is simple: who are you?" Asked the young leader.
The young native stared at him with a look of provocation, she had long been prepared for him to ask her this question one day.
"I am Ireland," the young woman replied simply.
Her answer seemed to amuse Sigtryggr, who did not at first understand the meaning.
"Don't you have a name?"
"Lord, how dare you not know the meaning of my name? My name is Eir," asked the young woman.
"I see." Said Sigtriggr unconvinced
"And you have conquered my heart as your ancestor conquered my country. Eir revealed without shame.
"I am honoured," he replied with the same intonation and a touch of sarcasm.
"But I have no illusions that you despise my people.
"You are not like them, you intrigue me every day. The young man revealed in turn.
This surprised Eir, she had not expected him to reveal his feelings.
"I intrigue you?" She replied, confused.
"You have a mysterious aura Eir."
"My old gods live in me, finally you and I are not so different?"
"We are nothing alike, I believe in Odin and you believe in... What are their names?" Replied Sigtryggr who still hadn't remembered the names of the ancient Celtic gods.
"That's insulting, Sig! You can't invade a country without knowing its myths and legends!" Eir took offense
"It would be nice if you addressed me with a little more respect."
"Your first name is too complicated for me to pronounce, I keep it simple."
"So you don't mind if I call you Ireland?" He replied
"No, I like it very much." She replied with a smile.Despite this first approach with Sigtryggr seemed to both fascinate and worry Eir, she had many questions. Was he sincere with her or was it a ruse to learn more about his people and use them to his advantage? Then she remembered who she was, she was Ireland, she embodied the spirit of her gods and ancestors who fought for the freedom of their people. Many invaders had had ambitions to take over her native land, she realised that she could not bear to live in constant domination. She had to act quickly.
Then she recognised a feeling that puzzled her: the revolt had begun. On both sides, death and suffering would find refuge.
"Forgive me, Sigtryggr, but the future of my people is more important than a romance without a future."
She finally left the city and found her people in the green forests. She climbed onto a stone and quickly drew the attention of the assembly: the revolt had begun, but she did not know that it would mark the young Viking forever...
Soon, resentment took over between Eir and Sygtriggr. Ivar's descendant quickly lost his family members and quickly felt hatred for Eir. Soon finding himself at the mercy of the Irish, he vowed to avenge the death of his loved ones and not let Eir off so easily...
@saoirsehime2000 @marauders-aesthetic @youbloodymadgenius
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