#sihtric elflaedsson

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

look into my eyes (find me there)

Coccham Crew Cuddle pile found family fluff. Inspired by @mirkwoodest's post here about them all sleeping in a giant cuddle pile, and the lyric @whenimaunicorn sent me yesterday: "if you stare into anyone's eyes for long enough, you might find them."

AO3, if you prefer

Tagging: @obipoelover, @sopranobuddy15, @2cool1002, @emberoflife, @ughsupongo, @punkrocknpearls, @tiyetiye @aadmelioraa, @volvaaslaug

Sihtric comes awake to his right arm tingling under Uhtred's weight and the distinct musky scent of Finan filling his nose, and he's certain that's Osferth's bony shoulder digging into his cheekbone. He'll probably have an imprint of Baby Monk's shirt on his face when he lifts his head. He feels and thinks and knows all this without even opening his eyes. Only the faintest light pierces the darkness of his eyelids, and the ship rocks beneath them to the river's gentle waves. There is no need for them to wake up just yet, and Sihtric is not quite sure what roused him.

The sails--woven by Eahlswith's hands and Lady Gisela's hands and the wives of all the other men with prayers to both the Danish and Christian gods for safety and speed and eventual peace--are reefed but not furled, and snap softly in a brisk breeze. Sihtric feels it on his nose and cheekbones, the first kiss of autumn, but his Danish blood runs thick, and surrounded by so many bodies, he welcomes the coolness. This is not why he's awake.

There's an unfamiliar snoring too close to his right, maybe four paces away. The volume of it is slightly higher than his usual sleeping companions, the soft snort at the end unfamiliar but not unknown. Sihtric's brows wrinkle, but he doesn't bother to open his eyes as he mentally ticks through the list of who's on the ship. Too loud to be Kjettil, too whistly to be Aldwulf.

Rypere?

Remembering that he's dead is like a lightning strike, and the sudden jolt of his muscles results in three sharply indrawn breaths, the delicate balance of their sleep broken. Finan's fingers find a braid but he does not tug, Osferth's shoulder is tense and digging into the hollow just beneath Sihtric’s cheekbone, and Uhtred's concerned blue eyes fill his vision. Neither of them so much as twitches.

"What?" Uhtred's question could easily be mistaken for the sigh of a sleeping man by any unfriendly ears.

Sihtrin inhales deep and slow, shifting closer, settling in with his mouth just below Osferth’s chin. Finan tugs on his braid, once, insistent, holding him in place because he wants to hear, too. He glimpses the plane of Osferth's chin out of the corner of his eye, imagines the line between his brows that he knows is there. "That snoring." Osferth twitches, just a little, when Sihtric’s breath tickles across his neck on its way to Uhtred’s ears.

Uhtred cocks his head slightly, the tiniest of movements to raise his ear from Osferth's chest. After a moment he raises his brows, then his head, glancing around wildly before melting back into their pile of cloaks and furs and sleepy bodies. "Steapa," he whispers, louder, but not loud enough to awaken anyone else on the ship.

Sihtric purses his lips. "I thought for a moment it was Rypere." He touches his hammer, feels Finan tug grumpily on his braid before fumbling for his cross.

"Jumpy Dane bastard," Finan mutters around a yawn, but his hand finds the nearest part of Sihtric's body--an outstretched forearm--and his fingers follow the slightly raised trail of ink that threads along Sihtric's skin. "C'mere, I'm cold." Finan tucks his face into the hollow of Sihtric's shoulder, the icy tip of his nose resting on the knot of a scar Sihtric got protecting Osferth's weak side in his second battle.

Sihtric shifts just enough to slide his cheek from Osferth's bony shoulder to his slightly less bony chest and focuses on the rise and fall of it, marveling at how close it is to the rhythm of the river. Maybe even the bastard of a king is connected to the land in some magical sense that Sihtric cannot quite comprehend.

He is not a man who cares for kings or for countries, he is not hungry for land or silver or any woman besides the one he has, and he will never understand the way Uhtred yearns for Bebbanburg. He has not followed Uhtred all these years, forsaking the king and country they technically fight for multiple times, because of some mythical sense of belonging to a place. Where would he belong anyway, except here? He is both Dane and Saxon, a war-monger and a peace-protector, where else would he belong if not here?

Sihtric only belongs to people: to Eahlswith and her courage that no one but him quite understands, to her gentle hands and biting wit; to Uhtred and his flaring temper, his will of iron and his tongue of fire; to Finan and his laughter and his daring and his creative cursing; to Osferth and his compassion, his unabashed faith in all of them and God, his quiet and unassuming strength; to the way they all sigh against him in their sleep.

He opens his eyes and finds Uhtred already looking at him, mouth relaxed in a small half-smile--how many people know, besides him, how often Uhtred smiles in his sleep? There is no need for words in such a moment as this, but Sihtric knows that he is found, that every piece of his being is known and loved, and who could wish for more than that?

[osferth]

literally love them sm

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Christmas Eve Surprise with Sihtric

Because Modern Sihtric is totally a firefighter. Change my mind, I dare ya haha. 

@ceridwenofwales @pokeasleepingsmaug @tiyetiye @whenimaunicorn @sifshoney @goldentailedmermaids @joyofbebbanburg @laketaj24 @kawennote09 @medievalfangirl @tephi101  @fandomfic-galore @therealcalicali @carlya65 @inforapound @flowers-in-your-hayr @captstefanbrandt @naaladareia @nxrdist @equalstrashflavoredtrash @ivarlothbroks  @ivarinleatherpants @morphingmoony @lauwrite1225 @gearhead66 @geekandbooknerd​

*If you wish to be added on to/taken off of The Last Kingdom tags, please let me know*

[ceridwenofwales]

The Coccham squad

[sihtric]

↳ Sihtric Elflaedsson

3.02

[therealcalicali]

[fangirl--of-everything]

The Prisoner (Sihtric x Reader)

word count: 4530

request: nope

summary: the reader is one of Gisela’s ladies, drawn to the celebration after Uhtred’s little army thwarts Kjartan’s attempts to have him kidnapped. She finds herself drawn to their young prisoner. But just because he may have a young face, that doesn’t make him any less a Dane, a fact which she will be reminded of. 

warnings: a bit of blood, 

A/N. This takes place during the plot of season 2 episode 2, where Sihtric is introduced. I’ve been wanting to write this for a bit, and I’m really happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys like it :)  (Also this title is totally unplanned and cheesy but oh well.)

Alright, enjoy :)

There were not many respectable ways for a woman to earn money in Mercia, and so it was a great opportunity to be a lady in waiting to the king’s sister. The prestige meant nothing to (y/n), she served Lady Gisela because she respected the other woman and felt she was worth her service, but it helped that her position brought money and reputation to her family, securing them a safe place within one of Mercia’s fortresses. It was there where she, and her lady, spent most of their time, but not today. Today she was inside a small tent, lit by candle light and lanterns, brushing out her lady’s hair somewhere south of Mercia, marching with Guthred’s army to face the Viking brothers.

“Is it warm enough in here for you Lady?” (Y/n) asked, finishing plaiting Gisela’s hair down her back.

“It is.” Gisela gave her a warm smile. “You look tired (y/n), I will be alright for the rest of the night. Go and get some sleep.”

(Y/n) gave the other woman an affectionate smile, and turned to take her leave, when the sounds of shouting and steel rang outside. The two women shared a look, and (y/n) led the way, peering cautiously outside. She signalled a passing soldier, asking what was happening, and the man explained that Lord Uhtred had been attacked by Danes, but the king’s army had fought them off.

(Y/n) opened her mouth to say that they should stay here, but Gisela was already outside, moving quickly through the crowd to check on Uhtred. (Y/n) cursed under her breath and followed.

The crowd of men was large, and loud, drunk on ale and victory, but they parted as Gisela passed, (y/n) trailing in her wake. They made it to the front of the cluster of men, and she could see Uhtred standing on the other side of a loose circle that was surrounding the king. She knew her lady wanted to go to him, and (y/n) put a hand on her arm. It was impertinent, and she knew if any of the priests saw it she would be punished, but Gisela gave her a grateful smile, reaching up and giving her hand a squeeze. The two women stood together as Guthred shouted to the crowd, the men cheering.

Something caught (y/n)’s eye, and she leaned to the side, squinting in the gloom as she looked through the crowd. “Do they have a prisoner?”

Gisela shifted, looking where (y/n) was pointing. (Y/n)’s eyes had landed on Clapa, the hulking, bald man by Uhtred’s side, and the boy he held by the collar. He was obviously a Dane, but she was struck by his youth, the fear on his face as the men around him cheered over the deaths of his companions. There was blood drying on his temple, and more trickling from his nose, and she saw him flinch as the men shouted, his eyes flicking around as he looked at the threats he was surrounded by.

Gisela’s face was soft and sympathetic as she looked at him. “He is just a boy.”

There was something about his face, the fear and tension there, that made (y/n) concerned. She knew it was silly, the boy had come with a group of Danes to abduct Uhtred and ultimately kill him, but she couldn’t help the sympathy that swirled in her stomach as she looked at him.

“What will they do to him?”

Gisela turned to look at her, her face soft as she realized (y/n) was concerned for the boy. “Uhtred has honour. If the boy can be spared then he will be.”

With a final cheer the crowd dispersed, Guthred reaching around (y/n) to press a kiss to his sister’s cheek. (Y/n) forced the boy from her mind, and focused on her task, her job as a lady in waiting, leading Gisela back to her tent safely. Once her Lady was settled she went to her own tent right beside, which she shared with Gisela’s other lady and the young woman who worked with the cook. Both were already in their cots, and they looked to her to explain the noise.

She gave a quick explanation of what had happened while she shimmied out of her dress, draping it over the post that ran the length of the tent, on top of the dresses of the others. She stripped down to just her shift as she explained, and shook out her hair, pulling it quickly into a braid and climbing down into her bed. The girls all exclaimed their shock, but they were women, not men, and their blood did not pump for cruelty and violence. They had done a hard day’s work and were tired, and conversation petered out quickly as the three women felt fatigue begin to pull at their consciousness. The whims of men could not hold their interests for long, not while there was real work to be done and them being the only ones who could do it.

As (y/n) felt sleep begin to take her, the gentle lulling of it causing the outside sounds to soften and blur, the boy’s face returned in her mind, sharp and clear. Sound crystallized, and the tendrils of sleep were forced back as his fearful eyes darted around. Blood ran down the side of his face.

With a heavy sigh she pushed to her feet, reaching above her head and pulling her dress back down. One of the girls raised her head, her voice heavy with sleep as she asked what was happening, and (y/n) lied that nature was calling. She twisted her hair around her hand, aware of the dangers of her going out looking so unkempt, but sleep would not find her until she had done this one thing, and so she moved as quickly as she could to get it done.

It did not take long to collect a bucket of fresh water, or to find where Uhtred’s men had taken the prisoner. Halig and Clapa were guarding him, both of them deep in their cups, while the boy stood awkwardly with his wrists bound in front of him, tethering him to the back of a wooden supply cart. All three of the men looked up as she approached.

Halig and Clapa both knew her. With Lord Uhtred courting her Lady, she had spent a lot of time talking with the former, and the latter was from the same village where she had lived before she and her family had moved to the fortress. She gave both of them a friendly smile, ignoring their surprise at her arrival at such a late hour, and held up the bucket in her hand.

“I’ve been sent to look after the Dane boy’s wounds.” She kept to herself that she had not been sent by anyone in particular, knowing the men would fight her less of they thought she was acting on her Lady’s orders.

She still had to convince them to let her close. Halig was adamant that it was dangerous, to which she scoffed. “He’s barely even a man Halig, and he’s looking like a drowned rat. If I couldn’t handle myself in the face of that I would be a sorry excuse for a villager. Besides, I have you two fine warriors here to deter him from trying anything.”

Finally she got both of them to surrender, after Halig gave the boy a stern warning of what would happen to him if he tried anything, and forced him to his knees. The boy grunted, his jaw clenching tightly as he was manhandled to the ground with his arms suspended above his head, still tethered to the post. It was clear he wanted to protest, but wisely kept his mouth shut and his eyes down.

“Don’t get too close.” Halig warned.

She shot him an exasperated look, resting the pail on the ground and lifting her skirts so she could kneel on the ground in front of him.

“Is it alright if I clean your wounds?” she asked softly, ignoring the men behind her and focusing her attention on the Dane.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, face hard and wary. She raised one eyebrow. “Is that a yes? It’s very late, and I have had a rather long day, and this ground is cold.”

The boy shifted and gave her a nod. She kept one eye on his hands, which remained high, unable to drop lower while bound to the cart, as she shifted closer. The cloth was dipped into the water and wrung out, and she shifted her weight back, taking a second to study the boy’s face.

Now that she was closer she realized that he wasn’t as young as she might have first thought. In fact he was probably around the same age as her, but it didn’t make her feel any less empathetic for him. She remembered how frightened she had been when she had first been brought into the fort to train as a lady’s maid, how foreign and hostile the environment had felt. This must have been much worse, because in her case she had never been considered a threat, or been surrounded by enemies.

“Where are you hurt?” She asked softly. She could see where the blood was drying on both sides of his head, and she could see another dark streak of it down the inside of one of his arms, but something told her giving him the option of choice would give him a tiny ounce of control in his very powerless situation.

It took a second for him to respond, and his dark eyes were searching her face suspiciously, but he finally grunted, gesturing with one of his hands toward the side of his head.

She didn’t prompt him to speak, just gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and shifted her weight onto her knees. She had to put one of her hands on his chin to hold his face steady, and she felt him tense as she did, but she kept her movements slow and gentle as she started wiping away the blood caked along his scalp, and eventually she felt him relax.

“You were here to capture Lord Uhtred?” She asked, simply because no other topic of conversation came to mind.

He looked surprised by the question, giving her a single nod. She flashed what she hoped was a conspiratory smile. “That wasn’t too clever of an idea, was it?”

He barked a dry laugh, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Was that a sound I just heard from you? I assumed you were a mute Dane.”

His eyes were dark and warm as he looked at her now, and he shifted, raising his arms a little higher. Both the men behind them tensed, but he was just trying to get more comfortable. She spared a quick glance at his hands before looking back at her work, washing the blood out of his hair. As she did she caught a glimpse, beneath the short dark hair, of dark patterns along his scalp.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was different than she had expected. Deeper, and rolling with the Danish accent.  

She blinked, turning her attention from her work to his gaze. She shrugged, and cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure the men weren’t listening too closely. Dropping her voice, she responded. “Do you want my honest response?”

“I thought your god didn’t believe in lies.”

She tried not to laugh. “That’s true. If I’m being honest, I saw you in the crowd and you looked frightened, and I thought you might like some comfort.”

His eyebrows raised. “Even though I’m a Dane who came to capture your Lord?”

“Uhtred’s not my Lord. And even Danes deserve comfort, don’t they?”

She felt a blush rise in her cheeks as she said it, and she dropped her head to hide it, focusing on the split in the corner of his lip. When she finally did look up again he was staring at her, and something in his face caused a strange feeling to stir in her belly, like a fish flopping after it was thrown out of the water. She forced it down.

“Is there anywhere else?” She asked, breaking eye contact and dunking the cloth into the water again.

“My arm.”

Was it in her head, or was his voice huskier now then it had been before? She shook that silly thought aside, and shifted so she could clean the blood off his arm. She worked in silence, but she could feel his dark eyes on her, and the heat never seemed to fade from her cheeks until finally she was able to push to her feet, dropping the rag into the bucket of reddish water.

She refused to meet the boy’s eyes and turned with only the curtest goodbye to Halig and Clapa, and before she knew it she was back in her bed. Sleep took her quickly, but it was restless, filled with dark eyes and rolling voices and a warmth in her belly that was gone when she awoke, but left a ghost of a feeling that refused to leave her even as she got up and prepared to start her day.

-----/--/-----

It had been two weeks since the night Uhtred had almost been taken, and (y/n) had slid from her bed to wash the face of a Danish warrior. In the light of day, free of the haze of sleep, she was ashamed of her behaviour. It had been reckless, and shameful, and completely inappropriate, regardless of the fact that the boy had been a Dane. She could convince herself that it had been nothing but pity that had driven her from her bed and to his side, but even still. If the priests ever found out she would lose her position, at least. She would be ruined, and likely labelled a traitor.

For the last two weeks, she had forced down all thoughts, all memories of that night, and had thrown herself into her duties. She worked as hard as she could, pushed herself and never stopped, so that when her day was done and she fell into bed sleep would take her too quickly for fear or dark thoughts to set in.

It was for that reason that she found herself carrying two pails towards the stream to fill with water and give to the men training. Normally that labour would never fall to her, but since her Lady had not needed her and she couldn’t be idle she had volunteered to be the one to fetch it. She was so focused on her task that she didn’t even notice what she was walking past, and it wasn’t until she heard the low voice trying to catch her attention that she realized where she was.

“You, girl!”

Her eyes dropped from her path to see the Dane boy in front of her, twisted onto his side so he could track her movements and catch her attention. She locked her gaze back on her course, refusing to meet his eyes, and kept walking.

“Woman.” He called as she walked past him, but she pretended she didn’t hear.

There was an exasperated sigh behind her, and his voice dropped deeper. “Lady.”

Her stomach tightened and she turned, the pails swinging limp and heavy in her hands as she did so. He looked proud to have gotten her attention and shifted his weight, opening his mouth to speak. She cut him off before he could.

“I am not a lady.” She said, her voice hard.

His face changed slightly, all traces of satisfaction disappearing, and he shifted again. “I need to go into the woods there.” He gestured in the direction she had been going.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and forced apathy onto her face.

He sighed once it became clear she was not going to move. “I need to shit.”

Her eyebrows rose on their own accord, and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. The boy had no idea the danger he had just put her in, all because he had to go into the woods? She turned to leave.

“I do not wish to fill my breeches!” He shouted at her retreating back.

She sighed, looking to God for strength, and searched the camp grounds until her eyes fell on Halig and some other men. “Halig?” she called, diverting from her course so she could approach him. “The boy needs to go into the woods. Apparently it’s urgent.”

Halig rolled his eyes, but this had taken too much of her attention already, and when she looked around she could see the Bishop’s eyes on her. She ducked her head and dug in her heels, moving as quickly as she could to the trees and the narrow stream that ran through it. She filled the buckets and set off as fast as she could back towards the camp.

There was noise in the trees, and she looked up at the sound of steel slamming into steel. For a second she could make out three forms in the trees, but one of them grew larger and larger in the time it took her to blink, a heavy weight knocking the wind out of her.

The pails fell from her hands, and cold lakewater ran over her feet.

Her back was pressed against something firm and warm, and cold steel pressed hard against her neck. Her breath hitched as she heard deep breathing behind her. “Don’t move.”

Halig came running towards them, sliding to a stop so quickly that his ass hit the dirt. “You son of a--”

“Go fetch Lord Uhtred.” The Dane was breathing heavily, but his voice was steady as he held the blade to (y/n)’s throat. “Tell him I have his Lady.”

“If you hurt her Lord Uhtred will not rest until he has killed you.” Halig tried to sound strong, but his eyes were panicked as he met (y/n)’s. “Don’t panic (y/n), you’ll be--”

“I said fetch Lord Uhtred.” The boy’s voice was hard. “Now!”

Halig’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but when the sword pressed harder against (y/n)’s neck he took off quickly.

(Y/n) watched him disappear, and her heart seemed to want to pound out of her chest to follow him, but she was stuck fast, as she was reminded by the thin, sharp blade against her throat and the rapid hammering heart of the Dane behind her.

“W-what is your plan?” she asked, taking a deep breath to keep her voice steady.

“I want to fight for Lord Uhtred.”

Her eyes widened. “Is this really the best way to go about that?”

“They would not let me speak to him. I was tired of waiting.”

Halig had disappeared into the camp, but (y/n) kept her eyes locked on the spot where he had disappeared, praying he would return. Her hands were clutching at the folds of her skirt to keep from shaking, and blood pounded loudly in her ears.

There was a soft sigh behind her that made gooseflesh prickle on her arms. “I am sorry. I did not know it was you.”

“What do you mean?”

His chest pressed against her back as he took a breath, but just then there was the thunder of numerous feet, and (y/n) felt her back pressed even tighter against him, her head forced up to keep the blade from digging too deeply into her throat.

“Be silent.” The boy breathed in her ear. “With luck we shall both live.”

Her blood was thundering in her ears, and she could barely hear the exchange between Lord Uhtred and the boy. Her eyes had landed on her Lady, seen the way Gisela’s face was pale and tight with worry, and she tried to be brave, if not for herself then for Gisela. 

It almost took her a second to notice the boy shifting against her back, the blade dropping from her throat. She felt his shoulder bump against hers, and it hit her all at once. She was running before she could think, and did not stop until she was safely in the arms of Gisela, ignoring the eyes of the priests on her.

Her Lady wrapped (y/n) safely in her arms and led her away from the standoff that was still taking place between Uhtred and the Dane.

-----/--/-----

There was a silence that followed (y/n) around, but she ignored it.

After the events in the woods Gisela had insisted that (y/n) see the physician, and then spend the day in her tent to rest. She had tried to protest, but there were too many eyes, and she could not be insolent. The second her head hit the pillow she fell into a troubled sleep, and slept straight through the day and into the next morning, waking late enough that she had missed both breakfast and lunch.

She got up as quickly as she could, scrambling to get herself in order, guilt tight in her stomach at having been absent for so long. She moved as quickly as she could, pulling on her dress and combing out her hair, rushing out of the tent with the hopes that she could reach the makeshift hall in time to help serve the meal, but she was too late. Even worse, as soon as her Lady saw her she was given a firm scolding and sent back to the tent for another day of rest.

This time she was even more adamant about protesting, but to no avail. After no more than 20 minutes she was on her way back to the tent, and to say she was unimpressed would be putting it lightly. The next person who gave her a sympathetic glance was going to get kicked. Or worse.

She decided there was no need to go right back to the tent, and she went to the kitchen to see if there was anything she could do to help with cooking or washing. There was some washing to be done, and she found herself alone behind the meal tent with two buckets of water and some cookware, scrubbing it down with some wool and soap. She lost herself in the work, and didn’t notice the presence of another person until there was the soft clearing of a throat behind her.

“Lady?”

Startled, she spun around, a glass held so tightly in her hand that it creaked.

The Dane boy froze where he was, a couple paces behind. He had his hands raised, as if to show he wasn’t a threat, but it did nothing to slow the rapid thundering of her heart. She couldn’t swallow, and suddenly her throat was cold, and she could almost feel the stinging of the blade again.

The boy took a step forward, and she took a step back, holding the glass in front of her like a weapon.

He froze, watching her carefully and taking a deep breath. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Her body stayed taut with nerves, and she kept the glass between them. Her heart was thundering painfully in her chest, and she could barely breathe, but at the same time there was that fish swimming around in her stomach again, though this time it was more frantic, more anxious.

The boy was studying her face, and he took another slow and careful step forward. She rocked back on her heels but stayed where she was, and he took it as a good sign.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, but the words were still locked in her throat.

“I swore an oath to Lord Uhtred. Now I’m part of the king’s army.”

Her heart was still thundering, but (y/n) was not one to allow fear to overtake her. She took a deep breath and allowed it to clear her head, loosened her fingers from the glass, and forced her body to relax. As the fear faded, so did the image that had clung to her mind and contorted the boy into a monster, a threat. 

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

His dark eyebrows rose. “Are you?”

She pursed her lips and turned to get back to the cleaning. Whatever the boy wanted, she didn’t have time for it. A hand caught her arm, gently, but with enough confidence to turn her around. The boy was earnest as he looked at her.

“I wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t find you.”

She forced a small smile onto her face, and pulled her arm free of his grip. He let her, but it didn’t stop him from talking.

“I didn’t know it was you in the woods, and if I did…” he sighed. “You were kind to me. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Something inside her melted, and she sighed. The glass was placed back in the water. She dried her hands on the apron of her dress, turned to give him her full attention, and gave him… perhaps not a smile, but a look she hoped would be reassuring.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did wrong you.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

He swallowed and took a step forward, reaching up to hold the small hammer hanging from his neck. “You showed me kindness when you did not need to, and I repaid it by threatening your life. I owe you a debt, which I swear I will repay.”

“You owe me nothing--”

“On Odin’s hammer I swear, you have my sword Lady, as much as it can be given while my oath belongs to Lord Uhtred.”

She opened her mouth, eyes widening. She was not a christian, in fact she had not been raised in any particular faith, but she knew what an oath like that meant, and she could not accept it. “Don’t--”

“Please Lady.” His eyes, and his voice, were earnest. “Will you accept my sword?”

She sighed, reaching up to scrub her hand over her face. “I am not a Lady.”

“And I am not a Lord. I am nothing but a bastard, but I will protect you with everything I have.”

“But--”

“I’ve already sworn the oath, on Thor’s hammer and in Odin’s name. Whether you accept or not, my sword is yours.”

She sighed, letting out an exasperated laugh. There was nothing else to do. “Then I suppose I must accept.”

He smiled and nodded. “I am Sihtric Lady. What should I call you?”

“(Y/n). And please, no Lady.”

“Very well. (Y/n). My sword is yours.”

[niaxemily]

Bamburgh Castle, 23rd June 2018

Formerly Bebbanburg Castle

[lannisterdaddyissues]

The Last Kingdom High School AU - Chapter One

Hey y’all,,, so I finally decided to make this a thing after like 100 years! Anyone remember this post? It’s a thing now!! All my friends in the discord finally convinced me to share my writings with the world so here it is! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, I will update it during the summer but I have a job so idk if updates will be regular. Anyway here is chapter one aaah!!

Chapter One

TLK High School AU

Word Count: 4.1k

“Oi! Arseling! Get your sorry arse to the principal’s office, now!” Leofric shouted as he slammed the gymnasium’s phone back onto its receiver. Uhtred’s classmates all turned to stare at him with round eyes, like a bunch of identical creepy owls. Uhtred hated those looks. He’d been getting them a lot in the past two years.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Uhtred,” the principal Odda greeted him, smoothing some papers out on his desk as Uhtred shuffled into his office. A steaming hot coffee mug sat to the side, untouched, and a bagel with a single bite mark in it lay on a napkin near the corner of his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior lately.” Uhtred blinked slowly but said nothing, leaving the ball in Odda’s court. Odda sighed. “You’ve been starting fights a lot lately in the past few months...the most recent one, three days ago, I believe, you sent my son home with a bloody nose and a black eye.”

“He called me names,” Uhtred said tonelessly, “And he’s an arsehole.” Odda grimaced and sucked air through his teeth. “See, Uhtred, that’s just more of what I’m talking about. You cannot just go around speaking like that to adults. You need to respect your elders. Otherwise, you’ll just keep getting in trouble and getting sent to detention. You know these are put on your permanent record.”

“...Fine.” Odda nodded, as though satisfied, and shuffled his papers. The reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose drooped a little and he pushed them back up towards his face.

“I also wanted to talk about your grades this semester.”

“What about them?” Uhtred stated more than inquired, hair falling over his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side. The old man never said anything of interest to him, just that he needed to stay on track if he wanted to be successful in life and that he had to watch his words in his essays. So what. He scanned the rest of the principal’s office nonchalantly, searching for an item to fixate on so he didn’t have to meet Odda’s eyes.

“They were just fine in your freshman year, perfectly average and acceptable for you to graduate, but halfway through your sophomore year they took a turn for the worse. Last year you failed both your English class and your maths class, barely passing your science class with a C-minus.”

“And what about it?” Uhtred repeated, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes alighted upon the globe in the back of the room on top of Odda’s filing cabinet and he exhaled deeply, wondering if he could get it to spin with his breath alone all the way from across the room. It didn’t move and he felt his mood blacken a bit more for no reason whatsoever.

“See here, Uhtred,” Odda said, leaning forward and turning the paper so he could see it, “you’ve got this red letter here. What letter is this?” Uhtred rolled his eyes.

“An F, sir,” he said, turning the honorific into more of a mocking title.

“Yes, I see, and do you know what happens when you fail your core classes, Uhtred?” There was a pointed gleam in Odda’s eye.

“What, sir?”

“It means you fail. You fail the entire year. And when you fail the entire year, do you know what that means, hmm? Let me tell you. You have to retake all of these classes.” Uhtred shot out of his chair, outraged. “I most certainly do not!” he shouted. “I’m not taking these bullshit courses again! I could pass these in my sleep, this is fucked up!”

“Life isn’t always fair, Uhtred,” Odda gave Uhtred another pointed look for his language and Uhtred sat down again, chastised. He sighed. “I know you‘ve had a tough time these past couple years.” Uhtred scoffed and whipped his head to the side.

That was a bit of an understatement, he thought. Uhtred had never known his birth parents. All he had ever known was his adoptive brother Ragnar’s father, who was also named Ragnar. He had grown up alongside Ragnar, Ragnar’s sister Thyra, and Brida, his best friend, and together the four of them were inseparable. Two years ago, Ragnar’s father had died in an accident, leaving Uhtred and his adoptive family to Kjartan, Ragnar’s uncle. Kjartan was neglectful and ignorant; he mostly left them to their own devices since he couldn’t be brought to care enough about them to hurt them. His son Sven was an abusive arseole whenever he visited, though.

“I don’t want your pity. It’s fine.”

“Since I know there are extenuating circumstances involved, I’ll give you an ultimatum,” Odda said. “I’ve asked a boy in your class to tutor you in all four of your core classes. He’s agreed to do it - don’t give me that look - in exchange for community service hours. You don’t have to pay him a dime.” The chair Uhtred was sitting in squeaked as he uncrossed his legs and recrossed them.

“And who am I tutoring with, sir?” Uhtred mocked, thinking his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“His name is Alfred Rex, I believe he’s in your class-”

Ohhhhhhhh, fuck that.

“No!” Uhtred yelled, “I am not working with that pain in my arse!” Odda gave him a pointed look over his reading glasses.

“I believe he’s in your class, and you should be grateful that he’s agreed to do this for so little. He’s the brightest student in the school. Surely you won’t be able to fail any of your classes with his help.” Taking a sip of his coffee, Odda leaned back in his chair, looking satisfied. Uhtred was glad one of them was.

“You must have missed the part where I said he was a pain in my arse,” Uhtred seethed, fingers itching to strangle the principal - and maybe a particular student - to death, “We absolutely hate each other! This will be a fucking disaster! He doesn’t want to teach me shit, he just wants to lord over me like he always has!”

“Now I am just disappointed in you. Alfred wants to help, truly he does! And he’s all you’ve got right now, so you’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it, won’t you?”

“How much time do I have to spend with him anyways?” he spat. Odda met his eyes over his reading glasses and pursed his lips.

“You’ll be tutoring with him four days a week. One day for language arts, one day for maths, one day for science, and one day for history. At the end of the week he’ll give you a report of your progress. Really, you should count yourself lucky that he’s taking so much time out of his busy schedule to tutor you.”

I have to spend four days out of every week with him?!

“That’s not going to work, no way, I can’t spend four days out of every week with him. Give me anybody else and I swear to whatever god you worship that I’ll do it. Not him.”

“Uhtred, I already told you,” Odda’s voice grew firm, “You can take it or leave it. You’re not getting tutoring from anyone but Alfred. This is the last straw.”

“Whatever,” Uhtred hissed, “I’m leaving, and I’m not getting any tutoring if it’s from him! Alfred can screw his perfect self as many times as he likes, see where that gets him.”

“Uhtred! Wait!” Odda called after him. Shutting the door to Odda’s office, Uhtred pulled a cigarette out of his backpack and lit it, ignoring the multiple shouts of his name that followed the trail of smoke he left down the hall.

Uhtred slammed the door to his car shut, seething as he aggressively turned the ignition key and cranked the volume on the radio up high. He plugged his phone into the charger cord and hit call on the pre-existing groupchat he had with his best friends, Finan Agil, Sihtric Elflaedsson - his name was actually Kjartanson, but he legally changed it a few years ago when he moved in with his mom - and Osferth Heahengel. “Hey,” Uhtred said as the line clicked and they all greeted him. Gym class with Coach Leofric had just ended, so they were still in the locker room changing their clothes.

“The hell was that all about earlier?” Finan asked on the other side of the line. “You get sent to the office again? What’d he tell you?” The others voiced similar questions.

“You want to know what he told me? I’m fucking failing my classes. I have to get a tutor. I have to see him four times a week. That’s bullshit!” Uhtred ranted. “I’m going to have to repeat a year if I can’t bring my grades up. This is by far the worst fucking shit that has happened to me, ever.” Feeling his temper worsen, Uhtred made a right turn far more violently than he normally did and grunted as the tires squealed.

“What the hell?!” Sihtric yelled on the other end of the line. “You have to get tutoring?! That sucks!” Uhtred nodded his agreement even though they couldn’t see him.

“Do you know who your tutor is?” asked Osferth. “Maybe you won’t actually mind them. I mean if they said yes, they can’t be that bad, can they?” Uhtred gave a mocking laugh.

“Oh, dear Osferth, why don’t you just go on and ask me who it is?” The line went silent for a moment as all the friends considered how bad the news was going to be, and then Osferth spoke again.

“Uh...who is it?”

“Oh, only Alfred fucking Rex, the hugest prick in our grade.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me!” “You have to tutor with Alfred?!” “But you two hate each other’s guts!” They all exclaimed simultaneously.

That fucking bastard, Uhtred thought, I know he’s just doing this to get one over me. He’s always bossing me around and acting like he owns the entire school. I fucking hate pricks like him.

“That’s just the worst,” Sihtric said sympathetically. The sound of a door opening on the other side of the line roused Uhtred from his bitter thoughts. They must have finished changing and were now heading to their next classes.

“I know, but Odda doesn’t even care,” Uhtred spat, “He says this is all I get! I can’t believe his audacity! You and I both know that Alfred wants to boss me around and that’s that!”

“I don’t know, Uhtred, maybe give him a chance,” Finan said doubtfully, “At least you’ve got a tutor, and Alfred’s the smartest kid in the school. You’ve got an advantage here.”

“Well, whatever, I’m home now so I’ll talk to you guys later,” Uhtred said, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“Wait, you went home?!” Osferth exclaimed. 

“Uhtred, you’re going to get caught. That’ll just be another detention for you. Maybe you should come back.” Uhtred turned the key in his car’s ignition and slid it into his pocket, ignoring Finan’s words.

“Right now, I couldn’t care less about detentions,” Uhtred said. “See you guys later.” Finan protested with a “wait, you bastard—!!”, but Sihtric and Osferth bid him goodbye and he hit the end call button with little remorse before shutting his car door and making his way to the front door.

“I’m home,” Uhtred called out as he shut the door behind him. A chorus of ‘hey’s greeted him and Uhtred left his bag on a chair before walking into the living room. Ragnar - Uhtred’s adoptive older brother - and his childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend Brida were cuddling together on the couch. Some movie Uhtred didn’t recognize was paused on the screen. “Uhtred, what are you doing home so early?” Ragnar frowned at him as he sat up and pushed the blanket off his legs. Uhtred exhaled deeply and plopped on the couch like a deadweight, causing Brida to shove him with her foot.

“Didn’t feel like staying at school,” he muttered. “Left after gym class.” Brida sat up at that and she exchanged a glance with Ragnar, looking concerned.

“Hey, well,” Ragnar began, “Speaking of school, I have something I need to talk to you about.” Uhtred frowned.

Gee, how could this day possibly get any worse? I can’t wait.

“The principal called us a couple days ago and told us that...you’re failing this year, Uhtred,” Ragnar said seriously. Brida nodded alongside him.

“He said you’re going to have to repeat a year if you can’t hack it,” she added. “So Ragnar talked to him and the principal arranged for you to get tutoring with—“

“—With Alfred,” Uhtred interrupted, balling his fists, “Yeah, I already fucking heard.” Ragnar’s eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

“Yeah, oh fuck! I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have said no sooner!” Ragnar shrugged and laid back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. “I forgot,” he said honestly, smirking.

“Are you kidding me?! You know how much I hate Alfred! Why are you laughing at this?!”

“I’m not,” he said, “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Ragnar, please, tell me there is another option besides getting tutoring from Alfred of all people,” Uhtred begged.

“Sorry, Uhtred, but there’s no negotiation on this one. You need to get out of this house and away from Kjartan. You can’t do that if you fail your last year of high school. You need to go to college and, well, your principal gave you a stellar opportunity. Besides, you guys have never really spent any time together outside of class. Maybe you could find some common ground and we can finally be free of your constant complaining.” Uhtred dug his nails into his palms.

“How,” he growled, “Could this possibly be a good thing? Stop acting like my dad, Ragnar, you’re only a year older than me. I thought you were on my side about him.”

“Is that what this is about, Uhtred? That you don’t need help?” Ragnar rounded his eyes pleadingly. “Come on, Uhtred, do it for your future. Not because I think you’re going to be some great brilliant fucking Einstein, but you need to get out of here. Don’t be like this. You’re doing it whether you like it or not. I will call Alfred and have him come to our house for tutoring. You can do this on your terms or on ours.” Uhtred growled and reached for his phone, standing up from the couch to head upstairs.

“Give him a chance,” Ragnar said again. “One chance.”

“Fine,” he hissed, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m going to hate every fucking minute of this and you’re going to feel extremely guilty whenever you think about it!”

“Where do you think you’re going?! Your first session is at three,” Ragnar called after him. Uhtred just yelled in response and slammed his door shut, the little bells on his door handle jingling.

As he lay on his bed in his room, the door locked, Uhtred took the time to reflect about the day’s events so far.

Alfred Rex...he’s a total fucking prick.

Uhtred had met Alfred in his freshman year of high school. Alfred had gone to a different elementary and middle school than he had, but Winchester High was the only high school in the area. They’d immediately gotten off on the wrong foot and had been bitter enemies ever since. Uhtred thought Alfred was an officious, sickly, annoying pain in his arse and Alfred thought he was a stupid child that needed to be told what to do. Hate at first sight, truly.

Uhtred sighed. His sister Aethelflaed was so much nicer. She was a freshman, so he’d only met her this year, but he had no idea how the two of them were related. Aethelflaed was a social butterfly and tried to include everyone in everything she did, while Alfred was just a complete arseole. Dammit, why was he stuck with him?!

Growling, Uhtred threw his phone at the wall.

3:02 pm. He was past the point of no return. Pushing open the library doors reluctantly, Uhtred poked his head in, scanning the area. A couple of students he recognized were perusing the library’s faculties. Aldhelm Sawyer - an extremely tall brunet who had a bag of wet dicks for a personality - lounged on one of the couches with a science textbook propped on his lap, one leg crossed over the other. A pretty ginger girl whose name he thought was Eadith sat at a table by one of the windows across from a guy with dark hair; Eardwulf was his name, if Uhtred remembered correctly. Aethelflaed, Alfred’s younger sister, was using one of the computers. When he walked in, she turned around and smiled at him and he felt his heart flutter a bit. Something about her had that effect on people. On the other side of the room in the tutoring section, Odda - the principal’s little shit of a son - was giving a freshman tutoring session at one of the whiteboards. Alfred was nowhere in sight so Uhtred headed towards one of the open tables and plopped into a chair, checking his phone.

“You shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re here to learn,” a voice behind him said. Uhtred whipped around, hissing.

“What do you want,” he bit out, before thinking better of it when he recognized the owner of the voice as his tutor, Alfred. Alfred was...how did Uhtred describe him? He was tiny and slender, shorter than Uhtred by about half a foot. The first time they met, Uhtred mistook him for a twelve-year-old, even though they’d both been fourteen. His wispy brown hair fell just below his ears and he had a pair of bright blue eyes that were so intense they always made Uhtred feel uncomfortable, framed by a pair of silver wire lens glasses. In essence, he looked like a nerd, which was another reason why Uhtred hated him. Nerds were annoying.

Uhtred scoffed and pocketed his phone, leering up at Alfred balefully. “Whatever you say, Lord. I’m here for your blessings and guidance, so let’s get this started, shall we?” Alfred sat down and the two of them unpacked their belongings in silence.

“We’re going over English today, as per Odda’s suggestion, so why don’t you show me where you’re at?” Alfred asked, putting his chin in his palm.

“Yeah, go on, teach me stuff...English. I bet you’re fucking great at it.” Uhtred crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair until the front legs were off the ground, hoping to provoke a reaction. He was disappointed; Alfred merely ignored his blatantly disrespectful behavior, instead ducking his head to flip through his English textbook.

“Feel free to disrespect me,” he murmured, “But rest assured that Principal Odda will hear about it, and my reports are extremely thorough. I don’t care what you say to me, but just know that it will reflect badly on you.”

Oh my gods, I fucking hate this guy so much!

“Yes, my Lord, I live only to serve you,” Uhtred snarked, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. Leaning over, Uhtred pulled his folder out of his backpack and slid a paper out. “We’re reading Of Mice And Men. You might think that’s a bit below your skill set, but here you are.” Alfred snatched the paper from his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be facetious, Uhtred. Just shut up and let me read this. That’s what I’m here for, as you said.” Never having been one to follow orders, Uhtred opened his mouth to snark again, but Alfred snapped his fingers to grab his attention and glared at him.

“I said shut up. I’m reading,” he repeated, his eyes moving back and forth like the spool of a typewriter. After a couple of minutes, he set the paper flat on the table and bit his lip, looking a bit uncertain of what to do.

“Well, Lord? Does it meet your lofty expectations?” 

“Can you not?” Alfred asked sharply, “And no, I’m sorry to say, it does not. What were you even trying to write? The subject of your analysis seems to jump to and fro. And while you are summarizing the story in your analysis, that’s all you’re doing. Summarizing. You’re not explaining why it’s important or what it means. Here, let me show you mine…”

“‘Bye, nerd,” Uhtred sneered, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Alfred stood a bit more slowly, organizing all of his supplies into a neat pile before picking them all up and sliding them into his bookbag. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Alfred inquired, not appearing bothered by the epithet apart from his clenched jaw. Good. “Make sure you incorporate what I told you today into your essay. I don’t want you to get a poor grade. And do keep in mind that I am reporting all of this to Principal Odda.”

Sure, whatever, Assfred! Feel free to slit your throat when you get home today! “...Yeah,” Uhtred said, before standing up and leaving without a word of thanks. Aethelflaed waved at him on his way out and he grinned back at her as he opened the doors.

“Welcome home, Uhtred,” Thyra greeted Uhtred as he stomped inside. The smell of spaghetti assaulted his senses and all of a sudden he felt much calmer than he had been a moment ago. “How was your first tutoring session?”

“Yeah, how was it?” Ragnar called from the living room, where he and Brida were cuddling yet again. The same movie as yesterday was paused on the TV and Uhtred had a feeling they hadn’t actually watched any of it and were just using it as an excuse to cuddle. A bowl of popcorn soaked in butter lay on Brida’s lap and the table was littered with empty beer cans, another in Ragnar’s hand.

“It fucking sucked. Alfred is even more of a bastard than I remember. Feel free to regret your decision completely,” Uhtred sniffed. Ragnar grimaced sympathetically.

“Is he seriously that bad?” he asked, snorting. “All I know about him is from your complaining.”

“He’s a fucking midget, but he tries to talk to me like he’s better than me! I fucking hate that, you know I do!” Uhtred threw his hands up. “He treats me like a stupid child and what’s more, he’s telling Odda everything that happens! Like some kind of probation officer! ‘Don’t disrespect me, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t use your phone when you’re supposed to be learning, Uhtred,’ ‘don’t breathe oxygen, Uhtred!’ He’s so annoying!”

“Sounds like a cunt,” Brida said.

“He is!!”

“Well, I’m sorry Uhtred, but if you want to pass your classes, your best bet is tutoring with him. You’re going to have to suck it up. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot,” he suggested, playing peacemaker.

“Not true,” Uhtred declared, “He just sucks at being a person.” He kicked Brida’s feet off the table so he could prop his own up and stole a popcorn kernel from her bowl. She flipped him off. “I’m just going to try to pass my classes this year and as soon as I do I’ll be totally done with him forever. Damn, that’ll be a good time.” Ragnar lifted his beer can in a toast.

“To the cunt who’s helping you pass your classes,” he said, and they echoed his toast as he downed his beer can and tossed it on the table.

“Ragnar, throw that empty beer can in the trash right now, you pig!” Thyra shouted from the kitchen. Ragnar shrugged and lazily kicked it onto the floor. “Ragnar!!” Giving Uhtred a ‘what-can-you-do’ expression, he stood up from the couch with a loud, obnoxious groan, plucking the beer can from the floor before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Hey, is dinner ready yet—”

“No! And stop asking, you animal, it’ll be ready when I say it is.”

“Geez, old woman, I was only asking, don’t hit me!”

Uhtred sat back against the couch and lifted the remote, clicking it until the TV changed to an acceptable channel. As the TV faded into background noise, he lifted his head to the ceiling and thought about what had happened that day.

Well, overall today sucked. I’m failing my classes and I’m getting tutored by Alfred, who’s a privileged arseole and also a complete tool. This whole year is going to be absolute bullshit with him around.

One chance, my arse. This year can’t end soon enough.

Art posts: @lauwrite1225‘s sketches of the high school!Coccham squad, @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of high school!Uhtred and Alfred, and @seaberrycloudberry‘s sketches of the characters in high school + sketches of Alfred, Aethelflaed, and Edward!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. THEY’RE PERFECT. Tagging @bellamehblake, @lonelyislanddaydreamer, @caleb-16charisma-widogast, @ucancallmechlo, @cocchamscrew, @myenglandmylove, @nightskyfangirl, @morganology, @tsukkinami @pokeasleepingsmaug here it is you guys!! I finally posted something!!!

[osferth]

we love a found family

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Here is a fun task for your Monday 😆

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a thirsty thot about one of your favorite fictional babes. Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

These two, nuff said. I am sure that the rest can be pieced together 😉

[ceridwenofwales]

Arnas Fedaravicius as Sihtric in The Last Kingdom season 4 [x]

[sihtric]

↳ Sihtric Kjartansson Elflaedsson, Dane boy who looks like a rat

3.06

[therealcalicali]

[fangirl--of-everything]

Plums (Sihtric x Reader)

Word Count: 8400

Request: nope

Summary: Sihtric is wandering the streets of Wessex when he meets an alluring woman. The fact that she is a whore does not phase him, and as the two begin to spend more and more time together the line between business and pleasure begins to blur. (Y/n) tries to fight it, but she cannot resist the charming Dane for long. But she is not a whore by choice, and some people are suspicious of the bond that is forming between her and Sihtric.

Chapter Warning: suggestive content, violence, blood, cursing

A/N. So, this was kind of challenging for me to write. I do not write anything sexually explicit, but since the reader is a whore and her and Sihtric’s relationship is born in that environment, there are some scenes that get pretty suggestive. BUT note there is no sex, and nothing too explicit. As much as that was a fine line to walk, I am really proud of this, and I really want to know what people think of it. Please feel free to comment and or message me with any thoughts or feedback, I would really appreciate it.

Alright, enjoy :)

His lord Uhtred had been summoned to Wessex following their attack on a group of Danish raiders, and Sihtric and Finan weren’t allowed to enter the Witan with him, so they were left to wander the streets waiting for him to return.

Sihtric had taken to wandering the streets of Wessex whenever Uhtred was summoned, and he had strayed further than usual today, finding himself in a modest market. It was little more than a cluster of makeshift booths, but he purchased some plums that were sweet and juicy. He smiled as he wandered, taking a bite and ignoring the way the juices ran down his chin. They didn’t have fruit in Dunholm, and nothing as exotic as this in Cookham, and he had to admit that if the big Saxon city was good for one thing, it was the delicious food.

He slowed when he saw a small group of women crowded around a stall, watching him. He shifted, straightening his shoulders and flexing slightly, taking another bite from his plum. One of the girls whispered to the others and they all started to giggle. He walked over to them, tossing his plum from one hand to the other. 

“Is there something I can do for you?” 

One of them stepped forward, a small smile pulling at her pretty mouth, and Sihtric felt his stomach twist. “We were just saying that we do not get a lot of Danes in these parts,” she said, her voice soft and sweet, with the accent of a high-born Saxon. Her skin was pale, her eyes dark and deep as she looked at him through thick lashes. “We were guessing as to how it is you got to be here.”

Another one of the women came up behind him, sliding her hand up his arm. He swallowed hard, looking into her pretty blue eyes. “I thought you might be here to swear your sword to our king.”

A third one, her hair fiery red, appeared at his other side. “I suspected you were here for a more sinister purpose.”

“Oh really?” Sihtric felt himself lean towards her, entranced. There were not many beautiful women in Cookham, and the ones that were had fathers who forbid them from talking to a Dane. “What purpose was that lady?”

She smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek. “I suspect you’re here to find a Saxon woman to run off with.” Her hand slid up his bicep, and his breath hitched.

Another voice chimed in, this one with the rougher accent of a low-born. “Luckily I was here to set all of you straight. This is Lord Uhtred’s man, and if you do not return his goods his lord is likely to come and collect them from you.”

Sihtric’s head snapped up, and he saw the final woman leaning with her hip against the stall, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyebrows were raised, and she shot each of the women surrounding him an exasperated look.

“You never let us have any fun (y/n).” The redhead groaned, her face tightening into something less attractive, and her accent no longer high-born english, but rather Irish, like Finan’s.

The three women stepped back, the blonde shooting him a last look before she left, glaring hard at the fourth girl, (y/n). She caught the blonde’s arm, holding up a hand. In it was placed a plum, and the bag of coin Sihtric had not even noticed were stolen from his belt.

“Hey!” he protested, but the blonde just winked at him, and his complaints died in his throat.

(Y/n) walked over to him and held out her hand, offering him back his belongings. He eyed her skeptically as he took them.

“What was that?”

She snorted. “That was a couple of whores trying to seduce a pretty foreigner into their beds.”

His eyes widened, and he kicked himself. How he had failed to notice they were whores was beyond him, but to be fair he wasn’t used to such beautiful women pursuing that type of career. The types of whores he was used to were… different. Still, it was stupid of him to fall for the scam.

“And you?”

“Why do you think I was here with them?”

He rolled his weight onto his back foot, taking another bite of his plum. He didn’t taste it. “And how is it that you know I am Uhtred’s man?”

A small smile spread on her face. “Your friend Finan has visited me a couple of times, and I make a point of remembering men who have good money and like to spend it on pretty girls.”

His mouth went dry.

She flashed him a small smile, one corner of her mouth tilting higher than the other, and turned to go. “A word of warning Dane, never trust a woman you meet in this marketplace. She can see how much coin you carry, and from there decide on how much she likes you.”

It wasn’t until she was a few feet away that Sihtric found his voice, and called after her. “Does that include you?”

She spun around with a laugh and winked at him.

-----/--/-----

(Y/n) had just finished with a client. She stripped the sheets from the bed in her small room, bunching them up in her arms and carrying them downstairs, catching the lowered voices of men in the main room, and the high, fake english accents of the other girls. Coins rattled faintly in her pocket as she walked, her hips swinging awkwardly as she tried to navigate the narrow stairs without catching her feet on the sheets hanging from her arms.

The building she worked out of had an entire hidden section, with a back door inside the small closets in each of the women’s rooms, leading to a private hallway and back staircase, which was the one the women were encouraged to use for errands like this, bringing dirty linens into the basement and such. She dumped her armful of sheets onto a pile that was growing in the corner, making a note that two of the women would probably have to go out tomorrow to do some cleaning, and came out through the opposite door as the one she had entered from.

This door, and the staircase that emerged from it, were connected to the main part of the house, and she emerged into the entrance of the building. Women were milling around, three or four of them who, like her, had finished with their clients and were waiting for new ones to wander in. She felt eyes on her and cast a look at the large man in the corner of the room, his eyes dark on hers. The coins in her pocket grew heavy, and she kept her eyes down as she rolled them into her palm and dropped them into his hand. He caught her wrist as she turned to go, tugging her towards him and sliding his hand into the deep pocket of her skirt.

“Don’t want you holding out on me,” his voice rumbled through her back as his hand shifted in her pocket, fingers sliding along her stomach and hips and pressing painfully. She clenched her jaw, stiff and still until he smacked her ass and released her wrist. “What do you say?”

“Thank you Lord Acwel.” She said softly, flashing him a soft smile even though inside her stomach was rolling with anger. All of the guards did this. They felt they were entitled to feel up the girls whenever they chose, and each of them demanded they be called lords, though (y/n) knew they were all just as low born as she was. He pinched her one more time before finally sending her on her way, a smug smile on his face.  

There was the soft whisper of the door sliding open, and she was grateful, even though it made her stomach twist painfully every time she heard that telltale slide of the hinges. She was sure surprise registered on her face as she took in the handsome Dane from the marketplace a few days ago. His eyes found hers, and his mouth twitched as he walked over to her.

She crossed her arms, a genuine smile spreading on her face as she saw him. “Hello you.” She leaned against the small table that was set up close to the door. “It appears you didn’t heed my warning about trusting pretty girls in marketplaces.”

He shrugged, but she watched as he looked around the room, taking in the low light, the soft glow of the candles, and the quiet murmuring of voices through the walls. It was obvious he had never seen a place like this before. “My lord always says I need to work on listening.”

She laughed, startling herself with the authenticity of it. He smirked, dropping his gaze to the floor for a second before looking back up at her. She opened her mouth to say something else, but she again felt Acwel’s hard gaze  on her back, and she straightened, her smile dropping slightly. This was not the place for casual conversations. It was a place of business, and she and the other girls were the merchandise. “Who are you here for?”

He looked confused, his eyes darting around the brothel. “What? I get to pick?”

She tried to hide her smile at his innocence, and nodded. “Have you ever been to a whorehouse before?”

He snorted. “Not one like this. The places I am used to are less… nice.”

Her stomach twisted again at his words. It was true she was lucky that she hadn’t ended up anywhere worse than here, but this was still not a life she would choose. She bit the inside of her cheek and made sure her smile stayed in place, even though it was tighter now. “You can pick whoever you like, but those are the girls who are available right now.” She pointed over her shoulder at the few women walking around the room, all of their eyes on the two of them. (Y/n) waved her hand in the direction of the couch. “Elizabeth, the blonde, hasn’t stopped talking about you since she touched your arm the other day in the marketplace. I think she’s available.”

“Actually,” he rubbed his hand over his bicep, “I… I want you.”

She wasn’t sure why that surprised her, but she felt her eyes widen. It wasn’t that she wasn’t popular, and she had her regulars who would always wait for her to be free, but for some reason this choice felt more important.

He seemed to sense her shock, because he tensed. “I am sorry, are you not--”

“No, no I am.” She cut him off. “I just was not expecting-- never mind. Let’s go upstairs.”

She took his hand, tugging him behind her and leading the way to the stairwell, and the bedrooms. “What do I call you?”

“Sihtric, lady.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m no lady, Sihtric.”

His eyes darkened and a hungry smile spread on his face as she pulled him towards her room.  

-----/--/-----

He slumped forward, his entire weight landing on top of (y/n), his chest heaving. He buried his face in her neck. (Y/n)’s breath came in heavy gasps, and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, her nails dragging gently along the slope of his back.

“That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” He pushed his weight up onto his arms so he could look down at her. Her face was flushed, and she gave him a smile, her tongue flicking over her bottom lip.

“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging his head down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled against her mouth, and with another sigh he rolled off of her, the two of them lying on their backs on the narrow bed. She raised an arm to rest on his chest, her fingers sliding along his jaw.

“And how trustworthy is the word of a woman you are paying?” He asked, smirking.  

She pursed her lips against a smile, but it escaped anyways. “I lie to most of my clients, it’s true, but in this case I’m telling the truth. Whether or not you believe me is your decision.”

He flashed her a cheeky smirk. “And if I choose to believe you?”

She hummed, sliding closer to him, her own lips stretching into a smile. “I think, if you wanted to be sure I was telling the truth, we might have to try again. Just to be sure.”

They drew together, Sihtric pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her lips and feeling her smile into it. She rolled, draping her leg across his waist, and he ground his hips against hers, his heart starting to race.

She pulled back, her breath quivering, and flashed another cheeky smile. “You know this is going to cost you extra, right?”

He growled, tugging her back down on top of him.

-----/ 6 months later /-----

(Y/n) had just exited the brothel through a back door, a bundle of linens in her arms that she was supposed to wash, when she was grabbed from behind. An arm slid around her waist, and before she could shout in surprise a hand was clamped tightly over her mouth. She was tugged backwards, and the bundle of linens fell from her arms as her back was pressed against the wall of the building, the hand still tight against her mouth. Her eyes widened as she recognized Sihtric staring down at her.

“Shh, do not scream.” He breathed. “It’s just-- what in Odin’s name?” He shifted back slightly, angling his body away from the blade she had pressed against the seam of his britches. “Where were you even keeping that?”

She pushed his hand away from her mouth with her free hand as he stared at her questioningly. “Somewhere that I can grab it when crazy Danes attack me behind my place of work.”

His eyebrows raised, and he stared at the knife appreciatively. When he looked back at her there was a hunger in his eyes that made her own breath catch. She tucked the knife back into its pocket in her skirt. “You scared the shit out of me Sihtric. What are you doing here?” She smacked his chest with an open hand, but it was ineffective.

His eyes darkened and he leaned closer, his tongue flicking across his bottom lip. “Uhtred was summoned by Alfred.” His voice was husky, and his gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and back again. “I wanted to see you.”

Now her heart was hammering for a different reason, but she pushed the fluttering in her stomach down, nudging the Dane back to give herself space to breathe. “You could have come through the front door.”

“It’s Wednesday.” He shrugged, like that sentence made any sense in the context of their argument. He saw the way her face twisted in confusion, and explained, “You do the washing on Wednesdays. I knew you would be back here.”

She swallowed, her stomach fluttering in a way she could no longer force down. She had to admit she had grown fond of him over the past months. He had been to visit frequently following their first encounter, every time waiting until she was free and following her up to her room with that same cheeky smile on his face. About two months ago his lord had been called back to Cookham, and she had assumed she was not going to see him again, yet here he was, scaring the shit out of her and looking at her with those same dark eyes, and (y/n) realized with a sinking certainty that she had missed the handsome Dane while he had been gone.

She looked around desperately for something to say, something to distract herself from the feelings swirling in her belly, and her eyes landed on the dark blood that was crusted against the side of his head.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice coming out more soft, more tenderly than she had intended. Her hand lifted, and she slid her fingers along his hairline. His eyes drifted shut for a second as she did, and he leaned closer, catching her wrist.

“I am fine. It’s nothing.”

She studied his face, his dark eyes open and warm as he looked down at her.  “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “It was a couple of days ago. I just have not had time to wash. We just got in, I came right here.”

She saw the opportunity to tease, and opened her mouth to take it, but he didn’t give her the chance. His right hand found her hip, pressing her back hard against the wall, and his left tangled in her hair, tilting her head back and anchoring her as he kissed her deeply, his entire body pressing against her. The kiss was hot and hungry, and his tongue slid along her bottom lip, slipping into her mouth. She tried to hold it back, but she gasped, her fingers catching his shirt and pulling him closer.

The laundry was forgotten by the time they broke apart, and she was breathless as she pulled him towards the back door. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Sihtric smirked, tugging her back and pressing another kiss behind her ear. “I will meet you at the front.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and pulling him towards the back entrance. “Come with me.”

He slowed, looking at the back door in confusion. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. When he reached for the purse that hung from his belt she shook her head again, catching his hand and pressing a soft kiss against his palm. His eyes widened as he realized what she was saying.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Just this once.”

-----/--/-----

The two of them lay under the thin blanket in her room, (y/n)’s head resting on Sihtric’s chest, his fingers tracing lazy designs on her bare back. Their legs were tangled under the sheets. Sihtric pushed down a yawn, a content smile on his face as she shivered under his fingers. She pressed her lips against his chin. He looked down at her, his eyes tracing the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her eyebrow, the bow of her lips. His fingers twitched at his side, and he reached up, his thumb sliding over the smooth skin of her cheek. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You are beautiful.” He said softly. “I have missed you while I’ve been away.”

He felt her stiffen against him, and she shook her head. “No, none of that.”

He lifted his head to see her more clearly. “What?”

She refused to meet his eyes, her fingers trailing over his chest. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

She shook her head again. He caught her chin, tilting her head up until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”

Her face softened as she looked at him, and she pressed a quick kiss to his jaw. “No, you did nothing wrong. I just don’t want you to say things like that.”

“But why? You are beautiful, and I have thought about you almost every day.”

“Sihtric,” she sighed. “I can’t do this with you.”

“You can’t do what with me?” his voice was harsher than he intended, and he pushed himself up onto his elbow, forcing her to sit up to look at him. “I do not remember asking you to do anything.”

“This,” she gestured between the two of them. “You coming here to see me, saying kind thing, looking at me like that. I can’t do it.”

Her voice was tense, but Sihtric liked to think he knew her after all this time they had spent together, and he knew there was something she wasn’t telling him. He shifted closer to her, softening his voice and reaching out to slide his hand behind her head. She stiffened, her body tight and still, but she leaned slightly into his touch.

“What are you saying?” Sihtric asked, his thumb sliding against her cheek. “Do you not want to see me anymore?”

She shook her head, shaking off his hand and turning her body away from him. “We aren’t seeing each other, do you not understand that? I am a whore. You pay to spend time with me. I lie to you and say what you want to hear to make more money. All of these compliments and sneaking around, this is not something I can do with you.”

It was a convincing speech, and Sihtric felt his stomach tighten as he heard it, but he also saw the way her jaw tightened as she turned from him, and the way her bottom lip shook just slightly as she spoke. He knew she was lying. He pushed himself closer to her, but kept his hands at his sides as he studied her profile, the way her lips pursed as his arm brushed against hers.

“Do you lie to me while we’re together?”

She nodded, her eyes on the wall.

“I do not believe you.”

“It does not matter whether or not I lie to you Sihtric, I am a woman you pay to be with, I--”

“I did not pay you to be here.”

She finally looked at him, her face open and vulnerable even though she tried to stay serious.

“You did not let me pay you to be here.” His arm slid around her waist and he pulled her closer. “You can say that this means nothing, and that you are just a whore, but that is not what I see when I look at you. And I think that when you saw me today you were happy because it was me, not because you were going to make money.”

She licked her bottom lip. “Maybe that’s all true, but, but this still can’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a whore!”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise as her voice rose, her face flushing. “Why does that matter?”

(Y/n) groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “Because Sihtric, I owe a debt to the master of this place, and he owns me until I can pay it.”

Sihtric blinked in surprise. “What?”

She sighed. “I was young, and I--”

There was a heavy knock on the door, and (y/n) jumped, her breath hitching. Her whole body tensed, and her hands started shaking in her lap. Sihtric’s stomach twisted, and it struck him that she was not safe here. She was afraid of whoever was behind the door. There was another sharp knock, and (y/n) shot him a warning look, pushing herself off the bed. Sihtric was left sitting, suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he was naked. She shot him a panicked look, and he got to his feet, scrambling to collect the clothes that were scattered around the room.

“Yes?” (Y/n) called, grabbing her dress and pulling it over her head.

“What in God’s name are you doing in here? You left the washing in a pile outside.”

“I-I’m sorry,” (y/n) stammered, straightening the dress and searching desperately for her apron. “I had a dizzy spell, and my--” Sihtric handed her the apron and she gave him a grateful look. “--my body just went weak, I’m sorry. I will go out right now and take care of it.”

The door shook as whoever was behind it knocked again. “Open the door woman.”

“Acwel please,” (y/n)’s voice was still timid and nervous, but her hand was steady as she caught Sihtric’s wrist, pulling him towards the back door. “I-I’m not decent.” He stumbled, just finishing pulling on his breeches, the rest of his clothes in a bundle in his arms.

“You know the rules. And decency has never been a problem for you before.”

Sihtric growled under his breath, blood rushing in his ears. She pushed him hard through the door, pointing down the dark hallway, whispering under her breath, “Do you remember how you came in? Go to the end of the hall and through that door. Don’t speak to or look at anyone.”

The door shook again, and she flinched, giving him another push.

He caught her wrist. “Come with me.”

The door rattled violently in the frame, and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. When she opened them her gaze was steady, and she shook her head, giving him another push. “Go, now. And please do not come back here again.”

“(Y/n),” he didn’t want to let her go, and he knew now that he couldn’t leave her here. “Please come with me.”

“Go. Now.” She twisted, pulling her wrist free, and shut the door in his face.

He knew he should leave, but his feet were rooted to the floor as he heard the squeak of hinges. (Y/n)’s front door was thrown open, and Sihtric tensed as he listened to the heavy footfalls of the man, Acwel, as he came into the room.

The man’s voice made Sihtric’s hands curl into fists around his clothes. “What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry, I am still not feeling well.” (Y/n)’s voice was different than he was used to. It was still sharp and clever and biting, but there was a faint tremor underneath it, a genuine trace of fear that he had never heard from her before. It made him want to kick this door down and take her as far away from here as possible.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and the sound of feet, the man’s heavy and sure, (y/n)’s a frantic scrabbling along the floor. “When I knock on the door you open it. As soon as I knock. Understand?”

For a second there was silence, and then the sharp crack of skin on skin. Sihtric growled, his body vibrating with fury. His knuckles were white around the door’s handle as the sound of heavy feet moved away, and the door creaked shut. He immediately swung the hidden door back open, his clothes falling from his arms as he saw (y/n) slumped in a heap on the floor, her body curled in on itself.

“I am going to kill him.” Sihtric growled, dropping to his knees beside her.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but otherwise didn’t move. “I told you to leave.” She mumbled.

“I am not good at listening, remember?”

She laughed bitterly, and finally lifted her head. There was a bright red mark on her cheek, the colour already darkening into a bruise. Her eyes were shining, and for the first time since he had met her he saw her walls completely down, and the vulnerability in her face made his chest tighten. He took her shoulders and gently pulled her towards him, and she slumped against his chest, her body trembling in his arms as he tucked her into his side.

“I am sorry.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. “I should have come in and killed him before he could hurt you.”

“Sihtric--”

“No.” He cut her off before she could say anything. “I know what you are going to say, but you are wrong. Whatever you owe this man, it is not worth staying here. You can argue all you want, but I am leaving and you are coming with me.”

“No I’m not.” She pulled back to look at him, her face softening as she did. “You are sweet, and kind, and I think you are wonderful, but I do not need your pity. And I do not need you to rescue me.”

“I am not trying to rescue you. I…” a small smile spread on his face as he realized what exactly he wanted. “I want you to be my wife.”

(Y/n)’s mouth fell open.

“Think about it,” Sihtric shifted so he could face her, taking one of her hands in his. “I am the oathman of a lord, you will be safe with me. And you can come with me to Cookham, it is beautiful and rural, not like this city. I promise I will protect you and provide for you, you will never want for anything. You would be my woman, and I would be your husband.”

She sighed, and he knew from the look on her face that she was about to say no. “That all sounds wonderful, but--”

“I love you.”

She froze again.

“I love you.” He said it again, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him. “I cannot sleep when I am away from here because I am thinking about you. Other women have no effect on me. When I look at them I think of you, and I miss you and long to be here with you. I promise you this is not pity, I want you to be my wife because I love you and I want you with me always.”

She blinked, the corners of her mouth quivering, and pulled him towards her. Her lips crashed against his. He wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, a smile spreading on his face. She pulled back, a question in her eyes, but he tugged her back down and kissed her again. This was sweet and tender, slow and gentle and different than every other time he had held her. When they broke apart he rested his forehead against hers, the two of them smiling and breathing deeply.

Sihtric studied her face, the small smile on her lips, the flush of her cheeks, and his chest warmed. “Is that a yes?”

She nodded, laughing. “Yes. Yes I’ll marry you.”

-----/--/-----

As much as (y/n) hated the thought of owing another man, they decided that the safest way to get her from the brothel was for Sihtric to buy her debt from the brothel’s owner. He did not want to leave her here, and she did not want to owe a debt to him or his lord, but there was no way for them to make it out of the brothel and get any sort of distance away before they were discovered missing and pursued. If they were in the countryside things would be different, but (y/n) could think of no way to get free while Sihtric’s lord was in Wessex without being arrested and dragged before the king for defaulting on a debt.

Sihtric had asked his lord’s permission to marry her, and was waiting for an answer, and every day while he waited he came to see her. His purse was getting significantly lighter as the days passed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed to be there to ensure that she was not being mistreated, and she needed to see him to give herself courage and remind herself that she would soon be free.

She heard the creak of the front door opening, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from snapping up to see who was coming in. A smile spread on her face when she saw Sihtric enter. His eyes searched the room until they landed on her, and he flashed her a cheeky smirk when he met her gaze. She laughed at how obvious he was, and jerked her head towards the staircase, signalling him to follow her.

When she got to her room she barely had time to close the door before her back was slammed hard into it, Sihtric’s mouth hungry and hard against hers. She laughed into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He trailed kisses from the corner of her mouth down her jaw, his lips sucking gently at the slope of her neck, and she sighed, arching her hips against him.

“I missed you.” He breathed into her throat.

“Then what took you so long to get here?”

He nipped at her earlobe, and she tilted her head back, a moan slipping from her lips.

“I was talking to Uhtred.”

That broke the mood, and she sighed again, pushing him back so she could focus. “What did he say?”

“He is still thinking.” Sihtric kissed her again, his teeth catching her bottom lip. “I am getting tired of waiting for his permission to take you away from here. I think we should just leave tonight.”

She pressed her hips against his. “And where would we go?”

His hands pressed at her thighs, and she gasped as he lifted her in the air. He smirked up at her before tossing her onto the bed, climbing on top of her and kissing her again. They were done talking, his hands pulling up the hem of her skirt as he trailed kisses down between her breasts. She lost herself in what he was doing, feeling his body moving against hers, his hands pressing down on her hips, his mouth hot on hers. She was so absorbed in the feeling of him that when he stopped, going completely still all at once, it hit her like whiplash.

“Sihtric,” she whined, chest heaving, “you can’t just--”

The words died in her mouth, a strangled noise escaping in their place.

Sihtric hovered above her, his forearms shaking as they took the weight of his entire body, holding himself completely still in a position that was half-raised, and clearly hard to maintain. His head was tilted back by the shining steel pressed below his chin. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck, catching in the hollow of his throat.

(Y/n)’s heart stopped in her chest, and she held completely still, her eyes following the thin line of steel to its source. Acwel was all but grinning as he twisted the sword, digging the point deeper into the soft spot under Sihtric’s jaw. His eyes were on Acwel as more blood rolled down his neck. (Y/n)’s gaze flicked to the right to see one of the brothel’s other guards standing behind, arms crossed over his chest, the same smug smile on his face.

“Get up Dane.” Acwel’s voice was low and threatening, and he spat out the words with obvious contempt.

Sihtric moved slowly, sitting up and shifting his weight off of (y/n), all the while the tip of the sword still pressed hard against his throat. For just a second (y/n) felt one hand press hard and steady against her hip, and then he eased off the bed and to his feet, dark eyes hard as he glared at the Saxon who was watching him with a smirk.

Playing dumb was their best bet. (Y/n) took a deep breath, her body still taut with nerves, and began to push herself up off of her back. “Acwel, what are you--”

“Do not speak woman, unless you want your savage’s blood to paint the walls.”

She swallowed hard, her jaw clenched tight. She tugged her skirt back down to cover her legs, but didn’t dare do any more than that with Acwel’s sword on Sihtric and the other man’s cold eyes locked on her.

“Move boy.” Acwel jerked his head, and Sihtric was forced backwards until he was standing with his back against the wall. He took it all in with a calmness that was unnerving, and for the first time (y/n) could clearly picture him fighting beside Uhtred of Bebbanburg. His glare was cold as he looked at Acwel, but when his eyes flicked to meet hers his gaze was steady, and it gave her courage.

He shifted his attention back to the two Saxons, tilting his chin up arrogantly. “Speak like that to her again and I’ll remove your tongues before I kill you.”

The two men laughed, and the other guard came forward, a slimy smile on his face. “You should say a prayer to your pagan gods boy while you still can.”

Sihtric raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

There was tense silence for a minute, and (y/n) could barely breathe her chest was so tight, but finally the door to her room creaked open, and a third man entered. (Y/n)’s stomach dropped when she saw the blond man, green eyes scanning the room quizzically. He looked around the room, his eyes resting on Sihtric for a moment before sliding over to (y/n). She tensed under his gaze, swallowing hard. Sihtric saw the way she stiffened as this new man drew closer to her, and he shifted, wanting to put his body between her and this new threat. Both Saxons shoved him hard against the wall, and he bit back a growl.

“(Y/n),” the blonde man’s voice was smooth and disappointed as he walked right over to the end of the bed, offering her his hand. “Care to tell me what is going on here?”

She swallowed hard, staring between his hand and his face, her body all but shaking with tension. Slowly, painfully slowly, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Her jaw was clenched as she stared at him, tense and waiting.

He tilted his head slowly, sympathetically, to look her in the eyes. “Tell me the truth. Are you planning on stealing from me?”

She shook her head. “N-no Edlyn. I swear.”

Edlyn nodded, then turned to look at Acwel. The big man smiled, tossed his sword from his right hand to his left, and drove the pommel into Sihtric’s stomach. (Y/n) gasped as Sihtric grunted and bent double around the weapon, his breath leaving him in a huff. The other man grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back against the wall. His face was red and his mouth open and for a second his body was painfully, frighteningly still, and then he sucked in a breath, coughing and groaning. Acwel laughed, and (y/n) saw white.

She shouted a curse and lunged, her left hand diving into the pocket of her skirt. Sihtric’s eyes widened in shock and appreciation for his fierce woman, and Acwel tensed, fear flashing across his face as she dove at him. Edlyn tightened his grip on (y/n)’s hand and pulled her backwards, twisting her right arm sharply behind her back and wrapping his other arm around her throat. Her attack was stopped before it had even begun.

She bucked against the hold, but he just jerked her arm and she hissed, pain shooting through her shoulder. She kept her left hand pushed deep into her pocket, her fingers wrapping around the small knife she kept hidden there, but she was pinned. Sihtric’s chest was still heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, but his attention was on her, tensing at the way her face twisted in pain as Edlyn gave her arm another sharp twist.

“Let her go, or I will kill you slowly,” he growled, his body vibrating with the drive to move, to fight these men. But the tip of the sword was back at his throat, and he didn’t know what would happen to (y/n) if he got killed and left her alone with these men.

Edlyn stepped towards him, giving Sihtric his undivided attention for the first time since he had entered the room. Sihtric straightened his spine and schooled his face into the deadly glare he had mastered from studying Uhtred, letting his face go stony and still. He kept his eyes on the other man’s, resisting the urge to glance down at (y/n).

“So,” Edlyn’s voice was thoughtful as he looked Sihtric over, “you are the Dane boy who plans on stealing my property.”

“I have stolen nothing. She does not belong to you.”

Edlyn laughed, turning his head so he could press his face into (y/n)’s hair. She tensed and flinched away, and Sihtric felt blood pound in his head as he struggled to hold himself back from ripping this man apart.

“Do you belong to me?” Edlyn asked, dragging his nose along the curve of (y/n)’s cheek.

She swallowed hard, her body shaking against his hold. “No.”

Sihtric felt his chest swell with pride as he watched his brave girl push down her fear, but part of him worried about the dangers of her being defiant. She should have told this man what he wanted to hear to keep herself safe until Sihtric could kill Eldyn and get her away from here.

“No?” Edlyn’s grip on her shoulders tightened, and he pulled her arm violently upwards.

Pain ripped through her shoulder and she screamed. Sihtric shouted in his native language, something harsh and guttural and violent, and it took both of the guards to keep him pinned to the wall as her legs buckled, eyes rolling back in her head as the pain ripped through her shoulder and down her back. 

Another blow to his stomach had him bent double and heaving. When he finally caught his breath and was able to straighten he spat another curse, but his eyes were on (y/n). She was held up by Edlyn’s arm around her chest, and there were tears in her eyes. She refused to meet his gaze, and he could see the arm she had buried in her skirts shaking.

“Do you belong to me?” Edlyn asked again, giving her arm a gentle tug.

She moaned, tears sliding down her face, but she shook her head stubbornly. She spat through her teeth, “No.”

“Do I not own you?”

“No.”

He pulled sharply on her arm, and she screamed again, bucking against his hold. Sihtric cursed again, jerking his arms violently, but he couldn’t shake off the two men who held him.

“Stop it!” Sihtric shouted. “(Y/n) is my woman now. Touch her again and I swear I will stake you down and burn this place to the ground with you inside.”

Edlyn’s eyes snapped to meet his, and Sihtric growled, straining against the men holding him. Eldyn gave (y/n)’s arm one final twist, a small smile spreading on his face as he watched Sihtric tense, before letting her go. She collapsed, cradling her injured arm to her chest, and pushed herself backwards until she could slump against the side of her bed.

Edlyn struck fast, so fast Sihtric could not prepare for it, and his head snapped back hard against the wall, tasting blood in his mouth. Pain bloomed across his cheek, and he could feel the spot where his teeth had cut into the skin of his cheek, but this was nothing. He stretched his jaw, shaking his head and spitting blood out onto the floor. When he looked back at the Saxon man his eyes were hard, fury in his blood. “Get your men to release me, and fight me like a man. Do not take your anger out on a woman who cannot fight back.”

Edlyn spoke as if Sihtric had said nothing. “Did you know, Dane, that defaulting on a debt is punishable by the loss of a hand and ten years in prison? And theft of property is the loss of both hands, or your life?”

Sihtric stayed silent. His gaze flicked down to (y/n), and he caught her shifting, rolling her weight onto the balls of her feet. Her left hand had disappeared back into the folds of her skirt. She met his gaze and gave him a small nod. He clenched his jaw and looked back up, keeping his face stony as he looked at the blond man.

Edlyn was blind to the exchange that had just occurred, and he was smug as he continued to speak. “(Y/n) knows these penalties, but I assume you do not, which is why I will only take one of your hands. Acwel, please take (y/n) outside, I will deal with her in a moment.”

(Y/n) scrambled to her feet as the big man reached for her, taking a step towards the man who owned her life. “Edlyn please do not do this. He is Lord Uhtred’s man, if you contact him the lord will pay you for Sihtric’s safe release. I will do whatever you want just please do not--”

Edlyn spun, the back of his hand catching her along the cheek, forcing her head to the side, her body bending in defense against another blow. Sihtric swore, jerking his arm against the man holding him. There was the swish of fabric as (y/n) twisted, her left hand appearing from the pocket of her skirt, the small knife she kept hidden there driving hard and fast into Edlyn’s thigh.

The man screamed, stumbling back a step, and blood spurted as (y/n) wrenched the knife from his thigh. Acwel lunged for (y/n), cursing, and as soon as the blade left his throat Sihtric drove his elbow hard into the gut of the man still at his side, his foot raising to catch Acwel in the ass, sending the man stumbling forward onto the bed.

(Y/n) drove her knife into the back of Acwel’s exposed neck. Sihtric turned, slamming his fist hard into the face of the other guard, catching the man’s sword and pulling it from its sheath at the man stumbled backwards, blood pouring from his broken nose. He ended the man more quickly than he would have liked, but time was of the essence here.

He spun to see Edlyn, still on the ground and with a great deal of blood pouring from his thigh, grab hold of (y/n)’s ankle and pull sharply, sending her crashing to the ground. The breath flew from her lungs as her weight landed hard on her bad shoulder, and for a second she saw white. By the time her vision cleared the injured man was climbing on top of her, his hands tugging at her skirt, murder in his eyes.

Sihtric drove the blade of his stolen sword deep into the man’s gut, causing Edlyn to spit blood onto the hem of (y/n)’s skirt. He twisted it, and the man went limp. (Y/n) scrambled backwards with her good arm, the small, slick blade of her knife clenched tight in her fist, while Sihtric grabbed a handful of Edlyn’s shirt and dragged him backwards, flipping the man onto his back.

Edlyn’s face was no longer cocky and smug. it was tense with fear, and his hands shook as he raised them to defend himself. Sihtric drove the sword down with all the force he could muster, the blade sliding through the man’s chest and wedging deep into the wooden floorboards. Edlyn groaned, blood pouring out of his mouth, and reached a hand out weakly. Sihtric kicked it away.

“It is not as slow a death as I would like,” Sihtric hissed, his voice low as he crouched down in front of the other man, “but it will have to do.”

He pushed to his feet, and turned his gaze to (y/n), who was sitting with her back against the wall of the room, her legs drawn up to her knees, arm held tight to her side, knife clutched in her hand. He spared a quick glance at the hulking body on the bed to ensure that Acwel was dead, and then he made his way around the chaos of the room and crouched in front of (y/n), pushing the rest of the Saxons from his mind. They meant nothing to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, reaching his hand out to touch the bruise rising on her cheek. Her breath hitched, and she leaned into his touch, nodding. He felt a small smile spread on his face, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Woman, you are incredible.”

She laughed, her smile almost genuine. He kissed her again, and she let him help her to her feet, wincing as the movement jostled her arm. He scanned her body quickly, checking for injuries, but she seemed to be pretty much intact, except for the rising bruises on her face and the obvious dislocation of her shoulder.

He could feel her doing the same to him, her uninjured hand rising to touch the darkening bruise on his jaw and the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. She didn’t notice that the knife was still in her hand as she did it, and he took her wrist, gently easing the weapon out of her hand and sliding it back into the pocket of her skirt.

“Sihtric,” her voice was shaking slightly as she spoke, “I’m so sorry--”

He tugged her forward and pressed a firm kiss to her mouth, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through his jaw at the pressure. She sighed. He pulled back and guided her head up so he could rest his forehead against hers.

“You just saved my life. Do not apologize for that. Ever.”

She nodded, and he kissed her again, trying to convey just how sorry he was that she had gotten hurt. Just how grateful he was that she was safe now. She sighed, and he thought she got the message. When they broke apart she was the one who pressed their foreheads together, her good hand tight on the back of his neck like it was the only thing keeping her standing.

“I promise you are safe now.” He breathed, his thumbs sliding along her jaw. “You are my woman and I am going to protect you.”

She nodded, her body relaxing under his hands. “What are we going to do now?”

He lifted his head to glance around at the carnage in her small room, and tucked her tightly against his chest so she didn’t have to see it.

“We are going to go to my lord Uhtred and tell him what happened here. He’ll take care of it. And then I am taking you to Cookham, far away from all of this.” He smirked at her, knowing it would lighten the mood. “I have a very small hut, and a bed that hasn’t been slept in for weeks. You’ll have to help me warm it.”

She rolled her eyes and swatted at his shoulder. “I love you.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and steered her towards the secret door at the back of her chamber, snagging his sword belt and draping his cloak around her shoulders as he did.”And then once we have warmed my bed I will see about getting us down to the little chapel and making you my wife.”

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Finan comforting Uhtred after Beocca's death?

Osferth trying to calm Sihtric and keep him awake when they're hanging upside down?

The Last Kingdom is full of the purest, most untoxic masculine friendships and it is so beautiful I could cry.