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#the last kingdom osferth
ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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Crawl Home to Her
Pairing: Osferth x f!reader Warnings: Religious guilt. Canon-typical violence. Mild angst. Loss of virginity. Smut. Word count: ~3.5k
Summary: Part two of Deathless Death. Osferth has a crisis of conscience and faith, however, an attack on their party by the Danes makes him realise what's at stake. Based on this request. Series masterlist.
Author's note: For @valeskafics. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
Osferth rouses slowly into wakefulness, blinking his eyes open. For a moment, his mind is blissfully silent, focusing only on the canopy of green leaves above and the chirping of the birds in the woodland that surrounds him and his travel companions.
That is until the memory of the previous evening floods back to him; the taste of her upon his tongue, her cries of pleasure that had echoed through the trees and up into the night sky. He can still feel the smoothness of her thighs beneath his fingertips, the way the softness of her flesh had yielded beneath his hands as she’d hovered above his face while he’d devoured her like a man starved.
His throat tightens at the thought, his cock stirring in his breeches. He turns on his bed roll to face her, expecting to see her peacefully sleeping next to him, just as she usually is, her features a vision of angelic beauty. However, the space beside him lays empty and his brow furrows in concern as he props himself up on his elbow to look around for her.
He spots her. She kneels at a fallen log, her hands clasped in prayer against it. The early morning sunlight filters through the branches casting the top of her head in golden light. She is the picture of innocence, truly angelic, and guilt and shame wash over Osferth in thick, hot waves. He would have sullied her upon the filthy forest floor, if the others had not come back and interrupted them. Worse still, she would have allowed him to. This pure, devout, impressionable girl had been a vessel for his lust. Seeing her as she is now, Osferth vows to keep his distance; he must do better by her, despite his yearning for her.
He is startled momentarily when she opens her eyes and looks directly at him, clearly having sensed his gaze upon her. Her smile is warm, making her eyes soften with fondness as she looks at him.
“You’re awake,” she says, her voice gentle. Osferth will never have enough of that dulcet sound, it is sweeter than honeyed wine. “Will you join me?”
He nods, not trusting himself to speak and makes his way over to her, kneeling on the opposite side of the log. It’s a deliberate choice, a need to place a physical barrier between the two of them so that he is not tempted to reach out for her, to feel her lips upon his once more.
If she is offended by his decision, she does not show it, lowering her head once more and closing her eyes. Osferth wonders what she prays for. Had she awoken this morning filled with regret for what they’d done and is now praying for God to cleanse her of her misdeeds?
Pressing his own hands together, he closes his eyes and bows his head.
Please, Lord, give me the strength to resist her. Do not allow me to sully her innocence with my sinful behaviour any more than I already have. Forgive her for transgressions, for she does not understand fully what she has done, and was led astray by my lust.
“First one awake’s meant to light the fire,” he hears Finan grumble sleepily in annoyance from a few feet away.
He sighs, standing and walking towards the pit that had been dug the day before. “Apologies, Finan, I’ll do it now.”
The rest of the morning passes peacefully. Uhtred’s talk of their travel plans serves as a welcome distraction, though he is unable to stop himself from glancing over at her. She looks at him with such adoration that it makes his heart squeeze. He is not worthy of basking in the affection of her gaze, yet he craves it all the same.
When it comes time to move on, she leans back against his chest as they ride, and it takes everything he has not to wrap his arms around her waist. His knuckles turn white from the intensity with which he keeps a hold of his horse’s reins, knowing that if he lets go his hands will be upon her in an instant.
She tucks herself against his chest as they bed down again that night and he is glad to wrap his arms loosely around her, keeping her close. He reasons he is simply keeping her warm, nothing more, until she looks up at him doe-eyed and expectant.
“Will you kiss me again?” She whispers into the darkness and he feels a pit open in his stomach.
“Not tonight, my lady”, he tells her quietly, “get some rest.”
He hates telling her no. The way her face crumples in disappointed sadness feels like a dagger to his chest, but it is for her own good. A kiss would lead to more and he cannot do that to her. He must control himself for the both of them.
She nuzzles into him, closing her eyes and he allows himself a moment to simply let his hands stroke through the silken strands of her hair, soft as angel’s wings.
He is thankful that the constant presence of Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric during the day prevents her from asking about the night he had tasted her. He can see it in her face each time she looks at him, longing in her eyes and questions on the tip of her tongue, but she’d never dare speak of it in company, so he always ensures they are never alone.
Come nightfall she clutches against his robes as they lay together, and he savours her closeness, her warmth, her scent, pretending his actions are a matter of duty that he derives no pleasure from.
She catches him off guard a few mornings later, excitement in her eyes as she approaches him.
“There is a river close by. I’d like to bathe. Will you join me?”
Osferth feels himself flush scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears. The thought rivulets of water running down her skin, tracing the curves of her body, has him swallowing thickly in order to maintain his composure. But he cannot give in.
He picks up his sword, fastening it to his belt. “I will keep watch to ensure you are safe, my lady.”
Her gaze lowers, he can see he has disappointed her yet again and guilt gnaws at him. He detests that doing the right thing makes her so sad.
She turns and walks off in the direction of the riverbank, and he dutifully follows her. He has to physically force himself to turn away when she begins to undress. Never having seen her fully bare before, he is desperate to look, but knows he will not be able to control himself if he does.
In his peripheral vision he sees her form illuminated by sunlight as she steps from the bank and into the water. Her movements are slow, deliberate, and he glances quickly at her, seeing how her hands move through the water, over her hair and down her body. 
Looking quickly away, he wonders how someone so angelic can be such a temptress. He wants to protect her virtue, yet ravage her at the same time, and it seems she is attempting to lure the latter half of him out to play. She does not know the full weight of what she is asking, however, and Osferth could not live with himself if he laid with her, only for her to regret it.
He keeps his focus on the surrounding woodland, to make sure no one approaches or sees her as she is bathing. He does not look upon her again until she returns to him, dressed once more, her hair damp from the river.
She looks up at him with wide, imploring eyes and Osferth feels panic flutter in his chest. They are alone. They are alone, and she is going to ask him about what happened between them and he will not know what to tell her. What could he possibly say? That he is a sinner? That he cannot control himself? That he swore to protect her and has taken advantage of her instead?
“Did I do something wrong?” She asks sadly.
The question hits him like a punch to the gut. How could she assume she is to blame for anything?
He opens his mouth to reply, but she beats him to it. “Was it not good…the other night? Have you decided you don’t want me after all?”
Her tone is filled with insecure hurt and Osferth feels as though he wants to cry. He had never meant to make her feel unwanted. If only she knew that she is everything he has ever wanted and everything he does not deserve simultaneously.
“Osferth?” Sihtric’s voice echoing through the trees interrupts them, as the crackle of branches heralds his approaching footsteps.
He turns to face the direction he is coming from, brows rising in concern as he sees the hardened look upon Sihtric’s face. This is serious.
“Get ready to go,” he tells them both. “We are being tracked by Harald’s men.”
Without thinking, Osferth grabs her hand, rushing her back to camp. They hurriedly pack away their belongings, kicking out the fire, before mounting up and moving on at speed.
She rests wordlessly against his chest, and he knows they will eventually need to continue their conversation from earlier, but right now his only focus is on keeping her safe. If he cannot do that then he has failed in his entire reason for taking her with him from Alton in the first place.
Their horses are brought to an abrupt halt, rearing up slightly when Danes ambush them in a clearing, surrounding them. Bile rises in Osferth’s throat, icy fingers of fear wrapping around his heart - not for himself, but for what may happen to her.
As Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric dismount, withdrawing their weapons, he leans forward whispering quickly to her. “Run. Run away and don’t look back. I will find you after.”
He feels her trembling like a leaf, and wishes he could do more to comfort her, but in this moment the best source of comfort is to protect her and, so as she flees, he jumps down from his horse and unsheathes his own weapon.
Osferth is not a masterful warrior, but travelling with Uhtred has sharpened his skills and he fights with more confidence than terror with each passing day. 
Allowing pure instinct and adrenaline ro guide his movements, he drives forward, slashing with his blade, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and the wet, dull sounds of steel biting into flesh.
A sharp sting against his temple happens so quickly that he barely registers he is cut, until he feels the warm trickle of blood in his eye. He blinks it away in time to see Uhtred run through the Dane responsible for causing the injury.
He is panting, sweaty, sight in one eye reddened by ichor by the time they have cut down Harald’s men. Those not killed have fled, but any solace he feels is short lived as dread and regret spur him into action, he runs through the woods in search of her.
Stupid fool.
If he’d have known better, he’d have taken her and rode away, not left her to fend for herself. What if some of Harald’s men have come after her? What if she’s dead?
As Osferth races through the trees he can no longer tell if the warmth upon his cheeks is blood or tears, he simply knows he has to find her.
His heart soars, relief and exhilaration flooding through him when he spots her cowering in a thicket, fresh tears pricking his eyes.
She is safe.
He calls out to her and she raises her head, her eyes wide with fright, though she visibly relaxes when she sees him, stepping out from her hiding place.
His jaw clenches in anger when he sees the slash in the sleeve of her dress, a long, angry looking red gash adorns the flesh of her forearm.
“Did they hurt you?” He asks, unable to mask the worry in his voice.
She shakes her head. “I caught myself on a low hanging branch when I ran away. It is my own clumsiness that is at fault, no one else.”
Reaching up, her fingers brush over the cut to his temple. “You are hurt…”
Osferth winces, though does his best to sound brave in spite of the pain. “It’s only a scratch. The fact that you are safe is all that matters to me.”
They stare at each other unblinking for a moment, her thumb tenderly wipes away the tears that have tracked down his cheeks. 
If they are not meant to be together then why would God deliver her safely back to him? They both could have died today and all he wants to do is kiss her.
Before he can second guess himself, he leans in, pressing his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss as he feels her return the gesture, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close.
She is alive, they both are, and he has never felt more so than in this moment.
That night, they do not sleep upon the forest floor. Uhtred finds them lodgings at a village alehouse, stating they have all suffered enough for one day and deserve the comfort of a decent night’s rest.
Retreating upstairs, bellies filled with ale and stew, Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric pile into one room, leaving Osferth and her to the other. It is humble, simply furnished, with a small double bed.
Osferth’s pulse races, keeping his back to her as he removes the light leather armour from his wrists and chest, leaving himself in just his robes. They have never spent the night alone together like this before. What would she be expecting of him?
He lips part involuntarily as he turns back to see her dressed only in her cotton shift. She has removed her dress, and tended to the cut upon her arm. She is beautiful, so beautiful, and he feels himself redden with embarrassment as she looks up and smiles, clearly having caught him staring.
She squeezes water from a cloth into a basin, before turning back to him. “Here, let me,” she says, gesturing to the wound on his temple.
Osferth approaches her slowly, his breathing unsteady. He hisses lightly at the sting of it as she gently presses the dampened cloth to his injury.
“Forgive me,” she whispers, lightening her touch, and his chest tightens.
As if my forgiveness is something you would ever need to seek.
She dabs at his face, placing the cloth into the bowl several more times as she goes, wringing it out, until she is satisfied he is clean.
Dropping the cloth back into the bowl, she places her hands against his face. She regards him with such tenderness that he has to close his eyes, unable to stand the way it makes it feel as though his heart will burst out of his chest.
Her fingertips move lightly over the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, over his lips, chin and jaw. If this is what it feels like to be worshiped then the satisfaction God must experience is beyond gratification.
He gasps as he feels her lips press eagerly his once more and moves his mouth hungrily against hers, tangling his fingers into her hair and walking her back towards the bed.
Pushing her back, he hovers over his, his lips trailing a path down her neck to her collarbones, before kissing the rest of her body through her shift. Eagerly, he pushes the cotton above her hips, finding her wet and wanting, eager to be tasted again.
Osferth’s gaze flickers back up to her face. Her eyes are glossy and darkened by desire, her lips swollen with kisses and parted as she breathes heavily through them.
If he had died today, he is certain the grave he ended up in would not be enough to hold him back from crawling back to her, if only to see her like this. But in that same moment, he remembers the men he has killed today, his hands sullied by blood, lives ended by his hand.
He is unfit to touch her. He cannot besmirch her virtue with his uncleanliness.
He bows his head, exhaling sadly. “I–I cannot go any further, my lady,” he whispers, “I would not dirty you with hands that are not worthy of you.”
She props herself up on her elbows. “And what about what I want? It is my virtue to give away, don’t I get to decide who takes it?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking, you cannot give me this,” he argues, eyebrows drawn together in a pleading expression.
“I know perfectly well what it is that I want,” she replies, her tone defiant.
She shifts on the bed, pushing him onto his back, and he lets her. All his fight has left him, so he simply lays there, watching her with curiosity as she sits astride him.
Carefully, her hands pull at his clothes, stripping him of his robe, trousers and breeches. He quietly allows her to do so, lifting his body as needed to aid her task until he lays utterly naked before him.
Osferth has never been nude in front of anyone before. He had anticipated feeling shame and embarrassment, wanting to curl in on himself to hide from her. However, her gaze is filled with such warmth and innocence, she looks upon him in wonder, the way that people gaze at sunsets and meadows of wildflowers. It makes pride swell within his chest to be looked upon as though he is worthy.
Her lips brush gently against his, and as quickly as he leans up to kiss her back, she is moving away. Her mouth trails a path down his neck, across his chest and over his abdomen, before she allows her fingertips to take the same journey. He shivers, feeling his manhood pulsate under her attention.
He sucks in a breath when he feels her hand wrap around his cock, testing the weight and feel of it in her palm, eyeing it reverently, before she lets go and comes to lay beside him.
She pulls her shift over her head, discarding it upon the floor, and his eyes widen, drinking in the sight of her. Not even the most diligent monks in his days at the monastery could illuminate visions as lovely as she is.
“I do not know what I am doing. I’ve never done this before, but I want to. Osferth, please.”
Her quiet plea is all he needs to hear. He turns her onto her back, hovering over her and kisses her deeply. A rumble of appreciation vibrates through him as he feels her instinctively part her thighs.
Pulling away, he grasps the base of himself, guiding his tip to her waiting entrance.
“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes locking with hers.
“I have never wanted anything more. Please.”
Her words make his stones ache and he presses forwards, jaw going slack at the feeling of how tight she is as his length forces apart her walls.
She whines quietly at the intrusion, though as he studies her face he is met with desire rather than the discomfort that he had anticipated. It excites him to know that she wants him, though he fears he would not be able to stop now even if he wanted to.
If lying with other women has been the closest he has come to seeing the face of God before, then in this moment he has truly died and gone to heaven.
His thrusts into her are slow and soft, his lips linger against hers, exchanging sticky kisses and laboured breaths. As his passage eases, his movements become slightly harder and faster, groaning as she grows wetter, clenching around him as the wooden bed frame creaks with their efforts.
This is his forbidden fruit. He has tasted her and now there is no going back. He loses himself in the sensation of her, his grip on her tight as she writhes beneath him, the sounds she makes are sweeter than any music.
Noticing her tensing when his thrusts are shallower, he repeats the motion in earnest until suddenly she is crying out, pulsating around him, pulling him quickly towards release. He pulls out, stroking himself to completion, watching the way his spend paints her bare flesh in pearlescent ropes.
Breathlessly he falls back against the mattress, pulling her to him, wanting her close. She is pliable, eager, and snuggles against him, her head upon his chest.
He looks down at her through hooded eyes and she smiles back up at him, her gaze filled with warm affection.
“I love you,” she whispers.
The words stick in his throat. They are not enough to convey the depth of his feelings for her. They are just words, much like heaven and hell, and they are worthless. He will never want for anything, as long as he has her.
So, he simply kisses her, hoping that it is enough for her to understand just how precious she is to him.
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queers-gambit · 2 months
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Now and at the Hour of His Death
prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.
pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader
fandom: The Last Kingdom
word count: 6.1k+
note: fuck you, Netflix.
warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.
also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.
again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI
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"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."
"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."
"In what way?"
"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."
"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."
"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."
"Old Man Rivers?"
You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."
"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"
"Seems simpler when I look back."
Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."
You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.
"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.
"Anything you'd like."
"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"
You laughed, "I was in love."
"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"
"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."
"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.
"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."
"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.
"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"
"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"
"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.
"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"
"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.
His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"
"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."
"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"
"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.
"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"
"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.
"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"
"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."
"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.
Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.
"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"
"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."
"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.
"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "
"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.
"My love, I did not - "
"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.
"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.
You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."
"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."
"But Pyrlig - "
"Will be saved," he assured.
"And Brida - "
"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."
You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "
"Don't think like that - "
"But it's a real threat to us - "
He agreed, "Of course, but - "
"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "
"I've made a vow to him."
"You made one to me, too, you know."
"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.
So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."
"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.
Both made to God.
Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.
To fight. To voice contempt.
"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"
"Angel - "
"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."
"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.
"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.
"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.
"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.
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"WHY!?"
"My angel, please - "
"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"
"I'm trying to explain - "
"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"
"Are you finished? May I speak now?"
With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.
You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.
You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.
Yet you'd never be enough.
Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.
"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."
"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."
The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."
Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."
Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.
You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.
"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."
"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."
"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."
Then the violence began.
The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.
When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "
"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.
Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.
"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."
"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"
The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"
You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.
It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.
The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.
You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.
"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"
"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"
You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.
It all happened so fast.
You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.
You watched it happen in slow motion.
You sprinted faster than ever before.
"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.
"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"
But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.
"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.
"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.
Nobody interrupted you.
"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"
"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."
"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"
"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."
He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "
"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "
"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."
Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.
"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "
"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."
He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.
"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."
Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.
He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.
"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"
"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."
"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "
But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'
"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."
"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"
"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."
Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.
You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."
With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."
"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."
You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.
You froze.
"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"
Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.
Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.
"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"
"No - "
"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"
But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.
You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."
"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "
"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"
Finan whispered your name in reprimand.
"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"
The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.
Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.
"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."
Your head shook, "No."
"Darlin', we have to - "
"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."
"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."
"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."
"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.
You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.
Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.
"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."
Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."
You sobbed without reprieve.
Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"
Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.
"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."
Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."
Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."
Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."
Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.
Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.
Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.
It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.
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𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞
Summary: Captured by Danes as a young child, you never thought you'd escape...until you were saved by a certain baby monk.
Warnings: triggering content (past sexual assault), PTSD, flashbacks, angst, Osferth being a sweetie (aka fluff), crisis of faith, and religious talks
word count | 5.3k🤙🏻
part 1 | part 2
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You didn’t remember much before you were captured by the Danes.
You were just a little thing, barely even old enough to take care of yourself. So when your family was killed in front of you, you had no choice but to be subjected to the wills of your captors. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t fight, you couldn’t scream. It was a hellish existence, demons always right behind you, breathing down your neck.
You were forced to grow up with these savages, watching them pillage and murder like they didn’t know how to do anything else. They tried to make you like them, but even as a child, your family instilled such a strong faith in you that to become like a Dane was unthinkable. And they tried to break you, so many times, almost allowing the demons following your every move get closer and closer. But as you made your way into womanhood with still no cracks in your convictions, they decided you were no good for anything but work and…other things.
Getting used almost every day by your captors was the only thing that threatened to break your spirit. They were callous, uncaring about your pain, further proof that Danes were the source of all evil and that you’d eventually die by their hands.
You were always numb; unmoving. To anyone else, you may have looked lifeless if not for the man above you using your body like you were his own personal toy.
Sometimes, you wish to be killed, even thinking about disobeying or fighting back just to have your wishes fulfilled. Most of all, you wished death upon your master. You wished to be the one to kill him. But you were only a woman, inferior, weak. But your spirit was strong, it must’ve been to survive every single torturous exchange by the hands of your master. And that was something no one would ever be able to take away from you, or so you hoped.
One day, you snapped. You actually tried to fight back, but that only got you punished so severely, you didn’t wake for days. After that, you started to wonder, if God did exist, why did He let all this happen to you? Why did He let one of his children be violated each and every day, let you be beaten and forced to do the Danes’ bidding? It didn’t make any sense. You hated Him…you fucking hated Him. You couldn't devote your life to some being that seemed indifferent to suffering. But ironically, it made your existence as a Dane’s slave much worse, now that you had nothing to hope for. No warrior of God would come to save you, no reward at the end of your life, no “well done, my good and faithful servant,” once you got to Heaven.
You completely gave in to your fate, not even bothering to fight back or argue with your masters anymore, thus, allowing your demons to take over.
As the days went on after your loss of faith, the idea of staying in the company of the Danes got more and more unbearable. As your master was using you for his own pleasure for the umpteenth time, you decided that you wouldn’t take it anymore. Taking your own life was thought to be a sin in your religion, but then you remembered, you didn’t follow it anymore. So really, you had nothing to lose.
But then, your master was suddenly pulled away and turned around, blocking the view of the culprit. Perhaps it was another man who was tired of waiting his turn.
Then you felt a splash of something wet. It was red, it stained your dress and skin. Blood. Your master’s blood, you were covered in it. A sword had been pushed through his stomach, all the way until it stuck out his back. Only when he fell to the ground could you see who killed him.
It was a young man, no older than you were. He was wide eyed in panic, his blue irises piercing even in the dim lighting of the room. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way that expressed concern that was directed towards your frozen form. He looked as though he did not know whether to help you or run away, or to cry really. “Are you alright, miss?” He asked as soft as his voice, but you didn’t know how to respond. No, you weren’t but yes, you were, now that your evil master was dead. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re safe now.” 
Safe? What did safe even mean? You’ve never known what it was like to be safe, why would following this man be any different?
“My lord will keep you safe, he is an honorable man.” You looked down from the young man’s face to his chest, seeing a wooden cross hanging loosely from his neck. You could have laughed, the irony was not lost on you, of course. “You don’t have to, of course. But…you’re bleeding. Please, let me help clean your wounds, at least.” He was…giving you a choice? You’ve never been allowed a choice before. He cautiously held out his larger hand towards you, his innocent pleading eyes almost mirroring yours from a long time ago, whereas now yours were blank and cold from years of torture. But seeing his seemingly caring expression, you figured it couldn’t get much worse. Everything horrible that life had to offer had already been done to you.
You were surprised how warm his hand was as you shakingly reached out to it, every other hand that has touched you always so rough and cold, but his weren’t. “It’s okay…” He spoke so softly, you almost had to strain to hear him. You were like a baby deer, him being so afraid to spook you, but he just didn’t know you still had a death wish.
When the Coccham squad came across your little village, it was chaos. Danes, killing and assaulting each other, they had only heard horror stories about places like these villages. Danes weren’t normally like this, Uhtred could attest to that. Danes took care of each other, they never would kill one of their own without reason. At least, that’s how Uhtred saw it. This village you were in, there was no saving them. They had encountered a few Danes from your village on the road, and friendly they were not. They had killed one of Uhtred’s men, and he wouldn’t let that slide.
There were many slaves in the village, you being one of them. Uhtred and his team snuck in and killed every Dane they could find, freeing every slave in the process. Osferth had grown more confident in his fighting skills, didn’t cry every time he killed someone, and the thought he’d be helping people in the process made it easier. Uhtred didn’t feel he needed to be babysat anymore, he trusted that he could take care of himself. So everyone split up throughout the village to cover more ground, and it must’ve been some sort of luck or divine intervention that Osferth found you.
Osferth wasn’t completely naïve anymore, having more experiences with Uhtred’s team in the couple years spent with him than his whole life of being a monk. But when he came upon you being violated by your master, the first thought that went through his head was how could someone do that to someone else? Anger coursed through his veins, an anger that he’d never felt before, a dangerous anger that scared him. For the first time, he felt pleasure in taking someone’s life. The filth that was rutting against you deserved the most painful death anyone could possibly imagine, but Osferth just wanted to save you as quickly as he could, thrusting his sword into the creature’s chest. He didn’t even have time to savor the moment, wanting to make sure you were okay.
You were bleeding, wounds and bruises all over your body. But what was most concerning for Osferth, was the fact that you didn’t seem bothered at all. There was no light behind your eyes, like you were alive but not really living. Which makes sense considering all you must’ve gone through over the years. He didn’t want to scare you, speaking as softly as he could without being inaudible. But you didn’t flinch, not even when he reached out to you. You took his hand without question, and Osferth didn’t know if he should’ve been relieved or even more worried.
Osferth brought you to a secluded part of the village, where no dead bodies could be seen. You’ve probably seen worse, but he didn’t want to subject you to any horrors, even if those dead bodies brought you just as much harm as the man he killed himself. He sat you down gently, near a water well, using the cool water to wash away your master’s blood that mixed with yours.
You didn’t speak as he helped soothe some of your wounds, and he started to wonder if you were mute or simply too traumatized. “I am Osferth. What’s your name, miss?” He asked, breaking the tense silence. But you didn’t answer, staring ahead despondently. Osferth smiled weakly, slightly shaking his head. “That’s alright. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready.” If you were ever ready, that was.
Osferth led you to where they set up camp just outside your village, sitting you down outside his tent next to a fire to warm you. You looked slightly worried at the man that was cleaning blood off his weapons, but seeing a similar cross around his neck, you didn’t feel you needed to run or fight. “This is Finan, he also helped free your village.”
“Why’d you bring her here?” Finan asked.
Osferth blushed. “I thought…she could travel with us, if she has nowhere else to go. Or if she wants to.”
Finan scoffed a laugh. “Did she tell you she wanted to?” But Osferth stayed quiet. “Uhtred will not be happy about another mouth to feed.”
“Uhtred will understand.” Osferth insisted, not leaving any room for argument, forcing Finan into a begrudging silence.
Suddenly, Osferth heard you let out a panicked gasp, whimpering and pulling out of his delicate grasp. He looked behind himself where you were staring, seeing his lord Uhtred. “A Dane…” You trembled fearfully.
“No, no, no, that’s my lord, Uhtred. He’s not gonna hurt you. He’s a good man.” Osferth tried to reassure you, but your fearful expression didn’t change.
“Osferth?” Uhtred spoke, looking back at you in curiosity.
Osferth placed you inside of his tent and went to Uhtred to push him away to speak with him. “I’m sorry, my lord. But I feel it is best if you don’t let her see you. She’s terrified of Danes.”
“You know I’d never hurt a woman.” Uhtred hissed, offended.
“She…her master was assaulting her when I saved her.” He whispered, Uhtred’s expression darkening. “Please just, let me take care of her.”
“Osferth, I’m sorry, but she’s not our concern. We have to travel back to Coccham and-”
“In all respect, my lord, I don’t care. I wanna help her…okay?”
Uhtred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Osferth, fine. But she’s your responsibility.”
“...thank you, lord.”
Osferth grimaced when he saw you flinch when he entered his tent, carrying a bowl of hot soup. “My lady,” He kneeled down beside you, holding out the bowl, “you must be hungry? It’s not much, but it’ll push the hunger pains away for a little while.”
You took the bowl wordlessly, closing your eyes in contentment at the taste. “Thank you…” You whispered, trying your best to give him a weak smile. “For saving me.”
Osferth couldn’t help but blush under your grateful gaze, a bashful smile gracing his own face. “I was only doing the right thing, miss.”
You didn’t speak much throughout the journey back to Coccham, only thanking Osferth whenever he brought you food and drink. Nobody pushed you to talk, knowing only what Osferth told them was enough to try to give you your space. But in the rare times you did speak, you never spoke to anyone except Osferth. He figured it was because he was possibly the first friendly face you had encountered. He saved your life, perhaps it formed some sort of attachment.
Osferth could tell him getting you to join them was a bit of an annoyance to the rest of the group, and the fact you only ever responded to him didn’t make matters any better. But he wanted to make sure you were okay, he wouldn’t be a good man if he just left you back at the village. Though, he felt ashamed, but he kind of liked that he was the only one you spoke to. He decided you just needed some time to get adjusted to a new free life, and maybe a few weeks in Coccham would give you some comfort.
You never expected you’d get to share a little home, having been used to just sleeping on a dirt ridden blanket on the floor, or even having been forced to sleep in a barn with the animals. So that fact that you had your own bed, it brought tears to your eyes, reminding you of a time when you were with people who actually cared about you. Perhaps Osferth was trying to be that for you again, though you didn’t know how you felt about sharing a house with him, even if for a time until your own house was made should you choose to stay.
Even though you didn’t have much, you found yourself unpacking what little you had and placed the various things around your new room just to distract yourself. You never had a room to decorate before, you immediately thought of plants, flowers that could survive in the winter. Pansies, which you remembered being your mother’s favorite. 
You looked down at your hand, clutching the only thing you had left of your family; a small amber gemstone. You had done everything you could to keep this with you over the years, hiding it from your masters where they would never find it. But now that you’re free of them, you have no use to hide it anymore. You thought it would look nice on your own small mantel in your room. Turning around towards your mantel, you froze when you saw Osferth standing in your doorframe, leaning against the wall. “Settling in okay?”
You nodded meekly. “Yes.” You whispered, ignoring the nerves in your gut and walking to place the amber on the mantel, unwanted tears coming to your eyes at the sight, wiping them away before they even had a chance to fall.
“May I ask what happened to you, miss?” Osferth asked softly, but immediately regretted it when your face fell. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Please, forgive me.”
You shook your head. “It’s alright…it’s natural to be curious, I suppose.” You paused, clearly contemplating the right action before a pained expression came over your visage. “I’d prefer not to speak of it…” You sighed heavily.
“Of course…I’ll leave you to it then.”
You didn’t know why you had a pang of disappointment when Osferth left, his presence somehow more comforting than when you were alone. You chose to ignore it. Though, it seems like Osferth himself had trouble staying away from you. Whether it was just checking up on you or simply wanting to be in your company, he was practically attached to you from the hip. You still had issues talking to anyone else, Osferth would help you get your point across whenever you needed. Despite his lack of personal space, you were thankful for him. He never let anyone push you to speak, or even try to talk to you without your permission for that matter. He was a bit overprotective, but you’d never experienced it before, or at least haven’t in a long, long time. It was nice to feel cared for, even if you still had difficulty trusting said kindness.
For Osferth, he fell for you pretty quickly. Despite having matured much in Uhtred’s company, his heart was still prone to a sort of childlike wonder and optimism, certain traits like those often getting him picked on by his friends. Though, Osferth never wanted his heart to harden like the company he kept. He never wanted to be a brooding pessimist like his lord, nor use sarcasm as a defense mechanism like he’s seen Finan or Sihtric do so often. He was always taught to be kind to others, not to judge as that’s the Lord’s business to judge. Those traits instilled in him from birth, it was no wonder he always fell fast and hard. 
Osferth thought he had been in love several times, from women he had one night stands with to women who politely smiled in his direction…another thing he got picked on about. You were no exception. As soon as he laid his eyes on you, even with the circumstances, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And that opinion never seemed to lessen in its sincerity, in fact, it seemed to deepen the more he spent time with you.
The more time you stayed in Coccham, the more your true personality started to show. Now that you weren’t fearing for your life constantly, Osferth noticed you had a decent sense of humor. You would understand his jokes and chuckle at them, still too shy to allow yourself a full belly laugh, but he was more than content with what you managed to give him. Every giggle you made always caused blood to rush to his cheeks…and a little other places, though he felt guilty every time it happened. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.
Osferth attempted to hide his shock when one day you approached him, asking him to teach you how to defend yourself, but his eyes widened despite his attempts, causing you to shy away but he didn’t let you. He was elated that you wanted to learn, and in all honesty, Osferth would feel a lot more at ease if he knew you could defend yourself.
Osferth still wasn’t the most skilled at combat, everything he learned from Finan, so he figured the Irishman would be the most qualified for the job. But soon into the session, he realized it was the worst idea he had ever had. Finan was serious about combat, never taking it easy when teaching Osferth, he didn’t know why he thought he would be gentle with you. He seemed to overwhelm you pretty quickly, knocking your training sword out of your hands with ease, just to tease you, which you obviously didn’t appreciate. Finan was prone to being a bit aggressively playful, which is tolerated and even enjoyed by some, but it was not what you needed at that moment. Every parry by Finan, who had a constant smirk on his face, seemed to upset you more and more…until something seemed to snap in you.
The dull sword shook in your hands, a feeling of overwhelming panic washing over you. You couldn’t tell why, you were in a safe environment where you knew no one would intentionally hurt you, but as you watched Finan attempt to strike at you with his own sword, you only saw your former master.
You blocked Finan’s blow out of pure instinct and fear, but he only saw it as that you were learning, earning praise from him. “Good.” But it wasn’t his voice, there was no accent that resembled Finan’s at all, nor pitch. It was him. Could you never escape?
Fearfully, like a cornered animal, you swung at the man wildly. No technique or thought behind the blows, all you wanted was your sight to be rid of him. You sobbed and screamed, desperate to escape, desperate to kill. But the man kept evading your blows with ease, mocking laughter filling your ears, spurring you on further in a rage. You felt your blade hit something, and an almost feeling of relief washed over you, but it wasn’t enough. You barely could sense your surroundings, up until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you.
Osferth was frozen as he watched the interactions, unsure of the best decision and terrified of making the wrong one. It was clear you weren’t there anymore, not really, your mind forced back into the state you were before you were rescued, but no one else clued in on it. Not even Finan, who he figured was just playfully excited that you were being more aggressive, making the training session all the more worthwhile. But Osferth saw the frightened look on your face, immediately telling him that something was wrong. He finally made a move when you had almost connected your blade to his neck, if it had been a non-training sword, would have the capacity to cut Finan’s head clean off. 
Finally, Finan seemed to sense something was wrong too. His laughter stopped and his expression fell, realizing that you were actually trying to hurt him. He hesitated for the briefest moment, but that was enough for your sword to actually connect to his body. The dull blade hit his shoulder, your fear seemingly amplifying your strength, making Finan fall on the cold ground. “Hey, hey, hey-!” Finan started to shout in a panic as you surged forward, your sword raised above your head, prepared to strike. But Osferth came to Finan’s rescue, and yours too.
Osferth wrapped his arms around you, ripping the sword from your hands quickly to prevent further injuries. You flailed about, screaming to the top of your lungs, demanding he let you go. But he knew he couldn’t, not when you were like this, a danger to others but most of all, yourself. All he thought to do in the moment was whisk you away, back to your shared home. “I thought this was only supposed to be training, lass, not an actual fight!” Finan called out angrily.
“Don’t.” Osferth called out sternly, shocking the Irishman and the rest of his friends.
Osferth tried his very best to use soothing words to calm you down as he walked you back to your home, guiding you to your bed and repeating that you were safe. Whatever you think you saw wasn’t real. Once you realized you were indeed safe, you clinged onto Osferth, your arms tightening around his shoulders, not allowing him to leave your side, not that he ever wanted to. He’d stay by your side forever if he could. But you settled, slowly releasing him from your grip, your expression bashful and ashamed; Osferth could already tell where your mind was at.
“I don’t know what happened…” You whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I was fine one moment and then…” You whimpered, huffing angrily, willing yourself not to burst into tears again. You relaxed again slightly when Osferth ran a soothing hand up and down your back, his presence more than comforting. He started to feel…like a safe space. “I kept seeing him…in my mind’s eye. The image wouldn’t go away and I felt like I was back in that village, back in his house and forced to-” You quickly cut yourself off, not sure if you were even ready to say the words out loud.
Osferth shook his head, grabbing a hold of your hand and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to say any more.” he reassured. “You’re safe here. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, not while I’m still breathing. One day, all those memories will become so distant they’ll be like a dream. It won’t hurt as much anymore. Time heals all. You’ll see.” Your gaze was so transfixed onto him, Osferth thought the skin of his cheeks would burst from all the blood that rushed to them. His own gaze fleeted from your eyes to your lips, over and over again on a loop, his own lips tingling with the thought of how easy it would be to just…lean forward and make that connection.
But no, Osferth respected you too much. He’d never push your boundaries, nor with anyone, but especially not with you. He tried to ignore your confused expression as he quietly excused himself, stating that you should find rest, leaving your bedroom in a hurry, retreating to his own room to steady his rapidly beating heart. Maybe it was a mistake to have you living with him…
Even after your first lesson not going the way you planned, you still wanted to learn to fight. Finan, unsurprisingly, was more than hesitant to teach you again, so it was up to Osferth, not that he minded. He let you take a couple days to gather yourself, recover, for it was best to train with a clear head. Unlike Finan, Osferth went more easy on you, giving you a fair challenge but not babying you. You seemed to have more fun with Osferth’s training style, a determined smile on your face never falling during that first lesson. He figured you appreciated his style, but you just loved being around him regardless of the situation, not that you’d ever admit this. Not yet, at least. And slowly but surely, over the course of a couple weeks, you felt you’d be able to handle yourself with a sword. The feeling was empowering, knowing you’d be able to fight and hold your own. All thanks to Osferth.
You still had much to learn, but you just had to thank Osferth for all he had done for you. After a training session, he looked so…pretty. Sweat beaded his brow, his chest expanding with each deep breath he took, a proud smile on his face at your progress. You didn’t think before you kissed his cheek, a shocked expression coming over your face as well as his. You almost regretted it until he grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with pure joy, making your heart warm. “Thank you, sweet Osferth, for everything.”
You had finally started to find some semblance of peace with your life in Coccham, mostly because of Osferth. Most of the time, you were content, spending time training with the baby monk being the highlights of the day. You just wished it was always day. You wished the sun never set and the world was never covered in darkness, you started to despise it. You realized that nights were the worst.
Every shadow you might’ve seen, or any twig that snapped under the pressure of various wildlife that were roaming their woods, it always startled you, pushing you to the verge of a panic attack. You felt so vulnerable in the darkness. Constantly. It didn’t help that the company you kept didn’t even try to keep themselves out of trouble, if anything they went out of their way to find trouble. While that might not have been exactly true, your traumatized mind found the extreme in everything.
You could scarcely find sleep with tossing and turning in fear and paranoia that your master would rise from the grave to steal you away again. You’d always finally find sleep once the sun had already started to rise. It was frustrating, you were angry that your mind still tormented you so. You were free now, so why couldn’t your mind comprehend it?
You knew you were fitful in your sleep, whenever you managed to find it. But no one had ever mentioned you making much noise when traveling back to Coccham, until one night. 
Even after staying in this new town for over a month now, you still had such bad nightmares in the form of embellished memories, your subconscious making them seem even worse. One particular nightmare had you gasping awake, a scream escaping your mouth as you sat straight up in your bed in a cold sweat, your heart beating so fast you thought it would stop.
Osferth had heard you from across the little house, immediately brandishing his sword to frighten away or kill whatever or whoever dared to hurt you. But unfortunately, Osferth’s sword couldn’t scare away your own mind. “My lady?” He asked, panicking at your state.
You were hysterical, unable to even say more than stuttering apologies. Osferth went straight to you, ignoring the boundaries he set for himself just for you, bringing your shaking frame into his arms to try to soothe you, cooing comforting words in your ears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay now, sweet girl. You’re okay, you’re safe.”
“Osferth…” You spoke in broken sobs, leaning into his touch while your body heaved with the pain of your memories.
“I’m here, love. I’m here.” Osferth’s heart broke for you, just imagining what you might’ve gone through to have nightmares that elicited such reactions from you. It also brought back that similar dangerous anger that rooted itself deep in his heart, making him hold you tighter, his expression hardening and willed anyone who was curious to keep away lest they wanted to be up close and personal with his fists.
After a few minutes of crying onto Osferth’s chest, your body finally started to stop shaking. “I’m sorry…bad dreams.” You stuttered, even though they weren’t just dreams.
“You have nothing to apologize for, my lady. I can’t imagine…” Osferth sighed, choosing not to finish that sentence. “I hate that you are troubled so. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” He moved to pull away, to fetch you water or whatever you so wished, but he was surprised to find you didn’t want to let him go.
“Can you…stay with me?” You asked timidly. “I’ve learned I don’t like sleeping by myself.”
Osferth’s expression softened, settling himself back beside you, placing an arm over your shoulders to pull you to him gently. “Of course, my lady. I’ll always stay with you, if that’s what you desire. Now, try to get more sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake. I’ll have no harm come to you ever again. I swear on the cross.”
You looked up at him, your eyes heavy with exhaustion, but no sleep could come to you when you had so many questions. “Why are you so kind to me? You don’t have to be, but you are.”
Osferth blushed, smiling bashfully. “It’s the Godly thing to do, miss. Treat others that way you’d want to be treated.”
You frowned. “I’ve never been treated with much kindness throughout my life.”
“It shouldn’t have been that way. You deserved kindness and respect, much like anyone else. But the fact that you yourself are still kind and respectful, despite all you’ve been through, is a testament to how strong you truly are, my lady.” Now it was your turn to blush, hiding your face from his view by cuddling into his chest.
“I don’t feel very strong most days, not with my mind so…shattered.” You sighed, fiddling with the cross necklace he wore. “How do you keep your faith, Osferth, when you’ve seen so much death and cruelty in the world?”
Osferth frowned. “I will not say it isn’t difficult, my lady. But all of this has to have some meaning, doesn’t it? If there is no reward after death for our good deeds, why do we bother at all? My faith remains strong because of all the good I’ve seen, in spite of the bad. The ability to be kind towards others, to show empathy, to protect the ones you love…those are all Godly things, innit?” 
Osferth shifted, moving to sit up, you moving with him with a curious expression decorating your features as he removed his cross. “Here,” He placed the cross around your neck, the feeling of rough callousness of his fingers along the sensitive skin making gooseflesh rise along your body, “I want you to have this, my lady. Perhaps, let it be a reminder that there is good in this world, even if some days it doesn’t feel like it.”
You didn’t realize it until right then, but you were in love with Osferth.
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Don't worry, there's gonna be a part 2. I wouldn't do that to y'all🥰 next part is gonna be even more angst and some smutty smut, so if anyone wants to be tagged for that, just let me know💕
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simpingland · 6 months
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The little lights// Osferth x fem!reader.
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Summary: Osferth has many reasons to keep his love for you a secret. But there is a limit to everything, and if can't marry you, then he will make his bows during a secret handfasting ceremony by the river.
A/N: fluff and so much fluff!!!! Osferth does inappropriate things here but not specified.
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Osferth found it hard to keep secrets, but since it was you, he always did his best, knowing that the consequence of not doing so would drive you apart. However, you always took care to give him a reprimanding look when he got too close or whispered things in your ear.
It had all started when Uthred and his party had let you get involved in their adventures when you were orphaned, you knew how to ride a horse and you were a quick learner. So taken in by father Beocca and Thyra, you soon became something of a niece to the Danish-English leader. To the rest you did not think you were too important. True, Sihtric and Finan were fond of you, as if you were fond of a friend, and Hild also helped you in the few things Thyra could not understand. But from the beginning, with Osferth everything was different.
The instant you rode beside him, his eyes stayed with you as much as the afternoon went on. And though it was Uthred who gave you water and bread to fill that empty stomach, it was Osferth who had accompanied you in prayer to watch over your parents. He knelt beside you, and his concentration inspired yours for hours. You had never been a devout Christian, and Osferth assured you that none of that mattered if you were good at heart. Even he didn't know at first if that would be the case for you, but he soon discovered that it did. It was when you tended his wound after the battle of Beamfleot that you watched over him day and night.
"Aren't you going to sleep at some point?" he would ask you when he regained consciousness.
"When you wake up. I have to watch to see if you suddenly stop breathing."
"And what would you do if that were the case?"
"Punch you so hard I'd make your light soul go back to where it was."
That managed to make him laugh, causing him some pain too, but after that the baby monk regained his colour.
"Everyone here wants to hit me..." he was referring to Finan and his threat to kill him if he died, and though he said it with a smile on his face, you felt a little sorry for him.
"I guess... I guess we're not all as sweet as you. You're always clear about how you feel, and you know how to say it."
"I disagree. My mind is constantly collapsed with thoughts and my heart is in knots."
"Because of faith?"
He nodded slowly. It took you quite a bit of courage to take his hand and stroke it. The coldness he conveyed was short-lived as he squeezed your hand back.
"I have seen true evil, Osferth. And I do not fear it, but I do hate it. And in you I see the opposite of hate. You are...all love."
You needed only the nearby rustle of leaves to let go, hands away again, and you lost yourself as Osferth's heart filled at your words. If this was a test, God knew he would not pass it. The days following his recovery were meals together, walking on your arm, letting him smell your hair, which you washed in the river. And he imagined you bathing with soap made by Thyra. And thanks to the soap it all really began.
He asked you, blushing, if you could wash his hair. His arm was sore and he felt dirty. The others he didn't trust, for they liked to laugh at his monk-cut, and threatened a few times to cut it off for fun. And you took him to the river where you bathed. Holding your hand, he followed your footsteps, without that oppressive sound of metal, for the weapons were outside, that place was pure comfort.
"Lie on my lap" you asked him. And his doubtful face made you question if that was a good idea. "Oh if you prefer, put your head down..."
He sat down next to you, but changed his mind. With the subtlety of a fawn, his head rested in your lap, and he watched you for a moment before closing his eyes and letting the water run over his head. Tenderly, the foam formed on his head and you rinsed him with a small glass. Your hands almost made him fall into a deep sleep right there. But when you wiped a wet bandage over his face he opened his eyes again. Concentrating on removing the stains, you tried to avoid the blue eyes staring at your lips. A moment of weakness and you looked back at him.
Who it was, it doesn't matter, but your noses brushed and your lips followed. There in the river, with the waterfalls dreaming and the frogs croaking, the soap disappeared in the water, but the butterflies in your stomach flew looking to burst into the air. That's what an Osferth kiss felt like. Immense, fresh, pure. From then on, the soap did not smell the same, it smelled like that sweet moment, repeated in a thousand different ways every time you and him were even the slightest bit alone.
You never noticed the looks the others gave you every time you laughed at everything Osferth dared to whisper in your ear. He tugged at your sleeves to hold your hand in the moments when your nerves ate at you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders when they marched far away and you were not allowed to accompany them, and by letting him take you by the waist, Osferth needed a whole world to let you go. Only Thyra would remove the tears that fell from your eyes at night when you did not hear from him. He always came back, and you saw his smile grow wider each time he was made proud among men, when he could bring you a small relic wrapped in simple cloth. His hanging cross was the only thing he kept when you went to the river. And there he would tell you everything he had seen, and everything he had suffered. He enjoyed washing your hair too, and he kept a lock of hair that he asked you for his travels. He cried on your shoulder more than once, and though he tried not to kiss you beyond your face, he soon reached your neck, and you could feel his hands wandering through the seams of your clothes, through the knots he imagined himself removing at night.
"I don't understand, Lord, why if I've been faithful to you so long you put me to this test. Put anything else in the way, I will overcome it, but it is only she who now occupies my mind..." Osferth prayed in his sleepless moments. "I ask you not to use her to break my heart. I feel that all her pain will be mine too."
The prayer could not avail him much, or perhaps it was precisely heard, when one night, one of those merry ones where the ale is quickly drained from the cups, Osferth and you led a secret dance, and where you went, he went. The music was secondary and a mere excuse to touch Osferth's hands so that he could cling to you. And the heat of happiness set your cheeks on fire and you stepped out into the cool of the night. In the courtyard of your house, near the tavern and where no one was yet around, you and Osferth lay looking up at the sky.
"You are a surprisingly good dancer, dear Osferth," you teased.
"That's not much credit coming from such a lousy dancer as you, my lady..."
Surprised by his comment, you gave him a gentle nudge and pushed him to the floor.
"I never expected such treachery from you.... This is not the monk I adore."
He turned you around, leaving you wrapped in the straw, and tickling you somewhat with his gentle grip. The cross hung down and brushed your neck. In the gloom, his face was still as distinguishable as in your dreams.
"I may never have told you..." he sounded sweet and serious, and his hand caressed the bridge of your nose. "But when you were in my care, I thought...I thought I was on the verge of death, and all I could feel with pain and fear was your presence beside me. I thought the Lord was preparing me to go in peace...sending me an angel."
Crickets chirped as you felt the excitement fill your eyes. You smiled like a fool at the sweet thought, and found it hard to believe. You could feel his slight embarrassment and you kissed his cheeks and could not help but giggle with pure joy. What to say to that? That you loved him? That it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you? He was the man of words. You only wanted one thing. And that night you got it. Starting with a kiss, the moon saw you finally shed your clothes and he let you explore his flesh. And out of that night came the biggest scare of your life and your greatest blessing in turn.
The news of the pregnancy nearly stopped Osferth's heart while it kept you in a state of disbelief that made you awkward all week. You needed to go cry in the river to come to terms with what was to come. You would never let go of that baby if you were healthy and had the money to raise it. But everything felt rushed and Uthred would not look kindly on this strange union between people he considered family and people he considered a team. Besides, Osferth would soon be off on a dangerous new adventure, and he himself had moral doubts about the whole life. What was clear to him was that he would not abandon you. There must be some middle step to bring you together and make that baby more than a bastard, for he had certainly sprung from the purest love.
"Marry me, please," he said as he brushed your hair away from your face, trying to wipe away your tears as well."
"No, Osferth...not like this."
"Why not?"
"For many reasons...Uthred will get angry with us, and if you depart married then you can die peacefully and I want you to stress yourself so much that you force yourself to survive long enough to come begging me to marry you..." that made me laugh, though you were quite serious.
"Then let's get married in secret."
"No!"
"Why?" he was beginning to stress. You took a moment to find the words.
"Because I've already hidden for too long how much I love you and this is the only thing I have left to give you! I want Beocca to walk me down the altar and I want Thyra to make me a wreath. I want everyone to see me happy because of you. I don't want there to be any doubt in your mind that I'll be happy because of you. Let there be no doubt in your mind that...as much as you're crazy about me...I'm pretty much in love with you too."
Smiling and thinking, Osferth enjoyed your little jokes that served to tell him the things that really mattered to you. And yes, he agreed, he wished to see Finan and Sihtric drink in honour of your union, and receive the full blessing of the man who had brought you together in the first place, Uthred. He needed everyone to see how beautiful you were and how happy you made him without contingency. He took your hand and caressed it, looking at it with a throbbing thought.
"There is a ceremony...less than a marriage, but it will soothe my conscience, and I hope yours."
In the sunset, on that river where you first kissed, a kind-hearted priest agreed to offer ceremony. Witness Hild, the first to have noticed your pregnancy symptoms and who did not question your actions. You bought a yellowish ribbon, like Osferth's hair, and with thread of a blue that reminded you of his eyes, you wove him a cross that stretched to resemble a sword. He, on the other hand, chose a greenish cloth, like that of the plants that grew in the river, and with white thread he had depicted outstretched wings, like those of an angel. When you exchanged them, Osferth kissed the cross while you caressed the weft of the thread, both of you with your souls full. Then the vows began.
In the handfasting ceremony, one did not join his soul to the other, but promised before the loved one that they intended to remain by eachother side in an uncertain future. Perhaps your child would be born a bastard, but the ceremony, in the eyes of god, and in your own eyes, was a promise of good intentions and love.
"I promise to become a man worthy of you and our family. I promise to try with every breath I have left to return to your side. I promise never to leave you uncertain of how much I want to live with you. I promise to cherish the protection I know you give me."
You were somewhat lost in the trance, and it took the priest to mention your name to get your attention. Osferth's cheek, occupied by his smile, was too pretty to look away.
"I promise...to wait for you calmly, to receive you with the gentleness you deserve. I promise to take care of everything we harvest, and I promise to always, always tell you the truth. I promise to help you whenever you ask. I promise to let you know how much I want to see you every moment of every day."
The priest speech was not that important for the last part in your humble opinion. There were many other things to look at and to listen to. And Osferth's gentle caress on your hand made noise. And your little discomfiture of joy that made you sway in your place was to Baby Monk a lovely dance. Though the kiss was not part of the ceremony, when the man fell silent, your arms leapt to his shoulders and Osferth. With bonds forgotten, you tugged at his hand and both of you hurt each other through inertia.
"Forgive me," he said tenderly.
"Forgiven."
With his loosened hand he was able to grasp your cheek and deposit at last the kiss you had spent the night dreaming of. Hild clapped her hands and withdrew soon after you thanked her for her discretion. And then you didn't quite know where to begin your life with Osferth, though really, it hadn't quite begun. Strolling along the river as the day wore on, leaving others to wonder about your whereabouts, neither you nor Osferth cared about anything beyond what happened on that river.
Your good soon-to-be husband held out a hand for you to walk through the water, and when he saw the beautiful fabric of the skirt you were trying to protect, he picked it up before it got wet. And he followed you carefully as you told him how much you would miss him.
"I will pray day and night for you to come home and meet our child," you told him sorrowfully.
"Don't pray for me, pray that they bring the baby to us healthy and strong...I will pray for that, and for you. And I will ask him, if it is not too much, to let me see both of you in my dreams."
You turned to cling to his rib, and he nuzzled the back of your head as you absorbed his scent.
"Oh, Osferth, please tell me you will never hold a grudge against me for derailing you from your calling as a monk? I can't help but feel guilty."
That revelation hurt him a little, empathising with the woman he loved most in this world and the one who would make him the happiest man in a few months. He lifted your face, stopping the walk, and kissed your eyelids.
"You didn't derail me, you led me. This is the life with which I have been rewarded for so many years of dedication. To be with you is not to forsake God. In fact, I can be nothing but grateful to him. If he sees everything, he will be unable to lose sight of all that I am moved by you."
You had to keep walking to hide the silly redness that filled your face, and Osferth's hand on your belly made you slow your pace. And though you were afraid of a thousand things, that feeling was indescribable. The purest state of happiness.
"I think it's going to be a girl," he said, stroking the fabric against your belly.
"I think it's going to be a boy," you contradicted him mischievously.
"They say that boys make pregnant women beautiful. And I see you looking the same as ever."
You gave him a shove as he laughed, but he didn't see the branch behind him and ended up falling awkwardly as he laughed almost completely. Now you were laughing as Osferth tried not to perjure himself from the cold.
"That's what you get for being an idiot..." you continued your walk, your dress starting to get soaked. Something in her look and half-smile made you suspect a thousand things. "Osferth no..." He stood up slowly. He approached you soaking wet and dripping. "I can't swim and you know it."
"Can't a man give his wife a hug?"
"Give it to your wife when you marry her."
"I can't resist, my lady!"
He pounced, instantly drenching you with his big body and wet clothes. And coldness mingled with laughter as you tried to escape him.
"Osferth! You're going to drop me, and I'm going to get soaked and catch a cold!"
You said it in jest, but something clicked in the Baby monk's head and he let go of you. He then ran to get the cloaks you had brought with you and helped you out of the river. He put yours and his own your shoulder. He helped you dry off and turned a deaf ear to your suggestion that he should dry off too. You gave him a kiss on those lips, and he seemed to calm down instantly.
The sun had already set by the time you returned to the house where your friends awaited you, your feet marking distance, but your eyes following each other's like a light. And perhaps, you were just that, lights on the other side of the room, endlessly tinkling, guiding and simply beautiful.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @slytherincursebreaker
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kitkatscabinet · 1 year
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Losing my religion
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Osferth x reader
Summary: After fearing you lost to battle Osferth makes his affections known before regret colours his actions. He is Saxon, and you are Dane, it can never be.
Requested: yes, by anon
Word count: 1.5k
The air was rife with the stench of blood and death, Osferth himself was covered in the grim aftermath of battle. He was aching and exhausted, mind and limbs begging for him to lie down and sleep. Yet he could not allow himself to retire, not until he had found you. Had verified for himself that you were alive and well.
Stumbling, his eyes poured over the faces of corpses and he desperately called your name, praying to God that you had not been taken from him. The longer he searched, the more he began to despair that the Valkyrie had claimed you for Valhalla.
Even as Finan dragged him back towards camp, promising your place there, he could not help but to fear for the worst. To fear that he would never see you again. Lost to an afterlife that he would not be a part of.
"What is your heaven like?" you suddenly asked, taking him by surprise. He had been lost staring into his ale when your voice reached his ears. Turning his head he felt his heart stutter at the sincere curiosity in your eyes.
"Why do you wish to know?" he finally managed to reply. Grinning you had punched him lightly on the shoulder and then said
"I need to know if I am to break into your heaven and demand better accommodations for my baby monk." It took a few seconds for your ridiculous words to sink in but when they did he found himself unable to provide an answer, too lost in the complete sincerity on your face.
My baby monk. He knew you had likely meant it in a teasing way, yet he could not deny the warmth that had filled him at the possessive word.
Your grin faded slightly at his lack of response before you gently took one of his hands in your own, "I must also admit, selfishly, I do not know how I will bear a life without you by my side, but the knowledge that you would be happy will have to be enough."
Osferth could not say when he had fallen in love with you, because his worry had finally proved to him that that was what he felt for you, but he thinks it may have been that night in the alehouse. Or perhaps it had been your tenacity, battle prowess, or sincere curiosity and respect for his god.
He is not given the opportunity to fully process his feelings before he finally spots you. He was running before he even realised, calling your name with a feverish desperation that had you turning to him in alarm.
"Osferth what?" you don't get to finish your question before he is sweeping you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. He buries his face into you, uncaring of the sweat and gore covering you. Suddenly his mind is screaming that it isn't enough and he is pulling back to cradle your face in his hands before leaning in to catch you in a bruising kiss.
He pays no mind to the jeering shouts that echo around the two of you, lost in the softness of your lips against his. His mind is blissfully silent, any thoughts that weren't pertaining to the feeling of your embrace completely drowned out. The feeling of you eagerly kissing him back, one hand pulling him closer by the tunic and the other gently tugging at his hair. One of your thighs had moved to slot between his legs, the shock of it finally pulling him out of his trance and causing him to jump away as if he'd been burned.
Shamefully he is immediately drawn to the hazy look in your eyes, swollen lips and heaving chest as you attempt to recover from his unexpected attack.
"Osferth?" you called confusion, lust and hurt all warring within yourself. Suddenly the illusion is shattered, your voice grounding him back in reality. Heaven and Valhalla, Saxon and Dane. As much as he craves your companionship, your being, your very soul to claim as his he knows he cannot, his god and yours would undoubtedly frown upon such a union.
"Osferth?" you called once more attempting to reach for him, voice tinged with a shy hesitation that was incredibly uncharacteristic. He cannot bear to see the apprehension on your face any longer and in turning to escape his own shame misses the devastation that overcomes your being at his departure.
"Did I do something wrong?" you whispered in anguish, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. Finan had been quick to pull you into his own arms, loudly decrying Osferth as a twat as he attempted to soothe your hurt and anger.
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Finan had spent the better half of two hours pulling you from your sorrow and then talking you off the ledge from killing the baby monk. Yet as he laid eyes upon the boy Finan felt as if he might just finish the job himself, Sihtric definitely would have.
But as he observed for a little longer, intent on remaining calm, it quickly became apparent that Osferth was just as, if not more miserable than you.
"That was quite a show you put on back there baby monk" he called, moving to claim the empty seat across from the boy whilst stealing his ale. Although his words were teasing his tone was anything but. Osferth's face drops even more, free hand coming up to clutch at the cross hanging from his neck. He doesn't respond though and Finan was suddenly too tired to be patient.
"You made them cry" Osferth physically recoiled at that, "running off like that. Damn near broke their heart. What the hell is wrong with you?" the anger was back once more, driven by the image of your tear-stained cheeks.
"They were crying?" Osferth's voice was pitiful and Finan cursed God for making him care for such an inept idiot.
"Of course they were crying! They love you!" the Irishman all but yelled, "and I know you love them, so what's stopping you lad?" he ends on a softer note, having noticed the turmoil in the ex-monk as he gained the sinking feeling he knew exactly what the issue was.
"I thought I'd lost them today" Osferth whispered, "and I think it's the first time I've truly realised that once that happens... I will never see them again. Not in heaven."
"So you would sacrifice yours and their happiness whilst you are alive?" Finan probed.
"I-"
"You deserve happiness Osferth, don't deny yourself on the uncertainties of death." Finan firmly interrupts, only to watch in confusion as Osferth's gaze travels past his shoulder. Turning he is met with the sight of you, eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from your tears. He sees your face scrunched slightly in pain before you swiftly turn to exit.
Luckily Osferth does need prompting to bolt after you and Finan can only hope he does not fuck up again.
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Sprinting as best he can Osferth repeatedly calls your name, forcing himself to move faster when you completely ignore him. He quickly manages to catch up, gently tugging at your arm until the two of you are secluded from prying eyes.
"Osferth I am tired" you gently plead, attempting to pull back from his grasp. Yet after seeing you, seeing the damage he had done he cannot bear to let you go again.
"No please, just listen" he begs, one hand reaching up to gently grasp your face, a move you cannot help but to lean into. You stay silent, though you do not pull away and Osferth takes that as permission to continue.
"I'm sorry" he starts, only to wince as you scoff. "Not for kissing you, never for that" he quickly rectifies, "for being a coward, for leaving you, for letting you think I did not... love you" he whispered, finally confessing to you as well as himself.
"Then why-" you shook your head, still wary from your earlier hurt.
"I told you, I was a coward. I let god get in the way of-" this time it is you who cuts him off.
"Oh Osferth no. I could never let myself come between you and your god, I know how important your beliefs are" you reached up to grasp at his hand still holding your cheek. The understanding that had suddenly washed over your face was enough to bring tears to the corners of his own eyes. What had he done to deserve such kindness, to deserve your care he did not know. What he did know, however, was that you had to have been an angel.
"You are the most important thing in this life" he asserted, leaning his forehead against your own. "Let me be the most important thing in yours" he begged.
"You already are" you promise, leaning in to kiss him once more, everything else lost to the pair of you as you allowed yourselves to finally drown in one another.
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angelsworks · 1 year
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Little Witch The last kingdom x reader
Chapter 3
Next Chapter -> H E R E
Series Masterlist -> Here
Type: series
Summary: You prove your worth to Uhtred and his friends.
Warnings: 18+ Violence, death, adult themes, etc
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You walked as slowly as possible behind the rest. Your hands were bound together, with one piece of rope leading off. The piece tied to Uhtred’s saddle. Keeping you tethered.
You tire quickly from the walking. Trying to keep up with even a slow walk of the horses proves difficult as your sides and wrists burn with pain.
The nervous twist of your stomach, fills your shoes (if you can even call them that) with iron. The gag around your mouth makes it hard to voice any of your concerns about the journey. Every step brings your further to completing your vision. Your racing mind struggles to think of ways to convince these men of their fate.
The lack of speed of the group is apparent to everyone. After maybe a couple of hours it’s Finan who voices his concerns.
“With our pace the way it is, a new king will be on the throne by the time we reach the next city.” Finan complains.
Uhtred nods, “Are you offering your saddle for her?”
The idea of being so close to you unnerves Finan. So he decides to keep his mouth closed for the rest of the journey.
Quicker than you expected you see the road diverge in front of you. The low bubbling panic inside of you comes to a boil. You decide it’s now or never to stop this vision coming true.
You stop walking. You raise your bound hands to the gag around your mouth, trying to untie it.
Your lack of motion is noticed quickly by the others.
The sight makes Uhtred sigh, “Witch we do not have time for this.”
His words do nothing to stop you struggling.
“Maybe she needs a piss Uhtred.” It brings a small chuckle from the others. You roll your eyes at the comments and when you find the gag done too tightly.
Uhtred unties the rope on his saddle. Instead taking it into his hands and winding it in a circle, bringing you closer to his place at the front.
Your struggling does nothing against his pulls. Making you stumble towards him on his white horse.
“What is the matter witch?” You groan around your gag. Frustrated that you can’t talk.
With a signal from Uhtred, Finan works to take off your gag.
“We can’t go this way.” You speak briefly, trying to stay sure of yourself.
“And why little witch, can we not go this way?” Finan asks.
Your eyes don’t leave Uhtred’s, “I’ve seen your death.”
At that moment the horses are sent into a panic, it takes a few minutes for each of their riders to calm them.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Osferth make the sign of the cross. You still stay focused on Uhtred. Despite his cold face his eyes betray him. They show the curiosity that lies beneath.
So you continue, “I had a vision. On the path we take, bandits will jump from behind a rock. They will outnumber you and gain the advantage. They will use a sword as long as you are tall, and kill your horses.”
Uhtred contemplates your words. Deciding if this is some sort of trick or not. Almost as if you can read his thoughts you try to reassure him.
“If I am wrong then you don’t die. But if I am right and you have no listened, your fate is sealed.”
The others remain silent. They have no idea if you are telling the truth. But being outnumbered by bandits is a dire way to try and find out. Silence hangs in the air. Waiting for Uhtred to break it.
“Witch, you will ride with me. You will tell me when we reach this rock.”
He reaches out a gloved hand, to pull you up on to the horse. You body pulls away from his touch. Afraid that if you get on the horse, your vision will come true.
“Our pace will be faster witch, if you get on the horse.” Sihtric snapped. Finding his own horse grow angsty at all the waiting.
Still seeing you were intent on staying grounded, Uhtred moved off his horse. With your rope still in his hand you couldn’t move away from the man.
Without breaking his stride he picks you up by your arms. Then swings you over his horse. Following suit by getting behind you.
Your back is pressed against his front. The saddle itself feels tiny with you both on. His arms come to hold the front of the saddle, making his forearms press against your hips.
The closeness makes you feel hot, blush even. But you try to clear any of those thoughts away.
Being on a horseback again reminds you of your childhood. Of tending to and riding the many horses you had. Your father had been the one to teach you how to ride a horse. By the time you were eight you could help out with them.
It was around the same time your visions started. When they started, some of your happiness left. It was hard to enjoy a childhood, when every night would leave you ceasing, drenched in sweat and full of fear.
You sigh and unconsciously play with the horses mane in front of you. Braiding it slowly in little strands. The action attracts the attention of Uhtred and Finan. Both being able to see you clearly.
Once again Uhtred is reminded of a bunny, when he looks at you. So small and meak, amongst large predators. He questions if you are to be trusted for what feels like the tenth time today.
Your eyes look ahead, seeing the grey, cracked boulder. Hiding behind it of course are the five bandits. Not nearly as skilled as Uhtred and his men, but holding swords and daggers alike.
You touch Uhtred’s gloves hand, turning towards him.
“That’s the rock.”
Uhtred stops the group and orders his men in various different ways. Sihtric and Osferth will ride into the trees and emerge behind the bandits. Finan will travel to the front of the rock with Uhtred, but climb over the rock to get the jump on them. While Uhtred dismounts from his horse and tackles them head on.
Osferth and Sihtric break from the group, going separately to attack from behind. While you remain pinned to the saddle by Uhtred.
“What about the witch?” Finan asks.
Uhtred pulls his dagger from its scabbard and slices your ropes. Discarding them on the floor.
“Witch, you stay near the horse. If you move or run, I’ll hunt you down myself. Understood.” His voice is low and next to your ear. His breath warming your neck.
“Yes.” You don’t dare saying anymore. Your fear freezes your body. You’ve seen their bloody bodies in your vision. You desperately hope it doesn’t become true.
Uhtred and Finan bring the horses to a stop a couple of strides from the rock. You can hear quiet muttering coming from behind it. They dismount and you attempt to as well. With your bruised body it’s made a lot harder, leading to Uhtred helping to pull you off.
You wait by the horses as they take out their swords. Walking slowly, crouched, towards the rock. Swords drawn, ready to fight.
Before Finan can jump on the rock the bandits jump out. Their own swords drawn, the longsword being weld by the largest of the group.
“Die Dane!” The largest shouted, charging at Uhtred. He put his sword up in defence. The clattering of metal filled the road.
Osferth and Sihtric appeared from the trees on horseback, cutting down two men as they ran towards you. The bandits fell to the floor, bleeding out.
You stayed near the horses, you body frozen. You watched as Uhtred fought against his opponent, disarming him of his longsword then cutting him down.
Finan had already killed his opponent. Then went over to Sihtric who was fighting against another of them.
In all the clattering of combat, a bandit had gained the upper hand against Osferth, now holding a sword to his throat. Osferth’s own sword fell beside him as the bandit whispered in his ear.
“You are outnumbered. Surrender and you will keep you life.” Uhtred calls to the man. While he, Finan and Sihtric inched closer to the scene.
“I’m not stupid Dane. Your holy man will walk free.” He points his sword towards you. “In exchange for your woman.”
A cold strike hits your chest. You want to run away. To flee from the fight. But you know what you need to do. You just hope Uhtred will forgive you. You hope they all will forgive you.
You need to do something you know they won’t like. Something that gives them enough grace to reject you, or worse, kill you.
Your body feels heavy as you walk over to the scene. It’s noticed quickly by Uhtred.
“Get back to the horses.” He wants to say witch, but avoids it narrowly, “Woman”
You are stood in front of the bandit now, Osferths wide eyes on you.
“It’s okay Uhtred.” You turn to him. Trying to convey much more in your eyes.
Your eyes glance back to the bandit. Trying to really concentrate on him. Your eyes narrow as you focus on all the negative feelings you’ve been bottling up. Imagining a cork being pulled as they engulf you.
Your body heats as you wish the man pain.
Sure enough his smug face turns to one of pain. As a small headache dances in his head. Like a stab, he feels it engulf his head in pressure. The feeling making his eyes bulge.
He loses his ability to hold Osferth as he starts to gasp and his arms drop to his sides. His head inclined up as he stands limply.
You reach out a hand in his direction, focusing your energy.
Osferth moves out the way just before the man’s nose starts to bleed. Then his eyes and ears become streams of red. His face turning an odd shade of purple.
He struggles for a few more minutes as you hold out your hand. Forcing him to feel a vast amount of pain. His voice gurgles once more, unable to scream, before he drops to the floor. Dead.
The use of power makes you extremely weak. Your body weighs like lead and your eyes become blurred.
You turn around to see the others keeping their distance. Regarding you with hard eyes.
Before you pass out you muster out a weak “I’m sorry.” Past your dry lips.
You fall to the floor, into a dark unconscious state.
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aemxnd · 1 year
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i love modern!osferth aus but i can’t help hearing this playing over in my head every time
hands up who needs a sexy televangelist!osferth oneshot, because i do 🥵
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New Muse!
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Petra Thorimsdottir
Shield-maiden
Daughter of Thorim The Bloodless
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hoosbandewan · 2 months
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🎂✨ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐄𝐰𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥! ✨🎂
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destinyisall-tlk · 3 months
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the last kingdom + alignment chart (insp)
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 15 days
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All Things End
Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~2.7k
Summary: Based on this request. Life has been blissful for Osferth since finding love with a Christian woman from Alton. However, he cannot shake the thought that she deserves better; if he loves her, he should want her to be happy, even if that happiness is not found with him... Series masterlist.
Author's note: For @blvckmvgicwoman. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
Her breaths come in ragged pants that fan hotly against the sweat soaked skin of Osferth’s neck. She is pliant beneath him, thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, mirroring the spasming grip of her warm, wet walls, pulling him towards his end as she reaches her own. The pressure that has steadily been building at the base of his spine explodes in white hot intensity, and he screws his eyes shut as he pushes back into her with a final, deep thrust, spilling himself inside of her.
Inside of her.
He freezes as the sensation fades away, eyes snapping back open in stark realisation. He pulls back, breathing heavily, panic not allowing his heart rate to slow.
“I–I did not mean to…I’m sorry. That was careless of me, please forgive me, I–”
She places a palm against his cheek, caressing his face gently, halting his rambled apologies. Her expression is calm, though her eyes are glossy, lips parted as the afterglow of their tryst suffuses through her flesh.
“It is fine, my love, we will take care of it.”
He knows all too well what she means when she says that. She will take care of it. It would not be the first time that she has had to.
It has been a year since they shared their first night together, and they have enjoyed many more since then, under the cover of stars, or on the straw stuffed mattresses of the various ale reeking inns that they find themselves in when they have enough coin to seek proper shelter on their travels. Osferth is usually always careful, pulling out and coating her thighs, lower back or belly with his spend. However, there have been two occasions when he has gotten lost in her warmth, the intoxicating scent of her, and forgotten himself, finishing inside of her as he ascends to the height of bliss, before the gravity of his carelessness plummets him back to earth with horrifying cognizance. Tonight is the third time that this has happened.
His expression is sullen as he sits by the campfire the following morning, watching her brew the pungent roots and herbs in a steaming pot of water. The acrid stench makes his nostrils twitch in disgust, but he refuses to move or look away. She is the one that has to drink the noxious liquid, suffering the smell of it pales in comparison, and does little to assuage the guilt that weighs heavily upon his chest.
She grimaces as she gulps it down, brow furrowed as she struggles not to retch at the taste, and he swears silently to himself that this is a torment that he will never allow her to suffer again. She deserves better, he must be better for her.
The frightened young woman he had met in Alton has come a long way since he had rescued her. She is no longer shy and fearful and, though still steadfast in her faith, she shares herself with him freely and without shame. She drinks ale, laughs heartily at Finan’s dirty jokes and no longer displays any apprehension at interacting with Uhtred and the others. His heart swells with warmth and affection for the woman he has fallen in love with, she is truly the light of his life. Though in moments such as these he is left to ponder on how exactly he has changed hers, and if it is for the better.
He has basked in her warmth on chilly evenings, enjoyed the sinful pleasures of her flesh, found comfort and joy in the unconditional love that she showers him with, but what can he possibly offer her in return?
Osferth is her protector, but would she need that protection at all if she were not travelling with Uhtred and his men? He is the blade against the harm that he directly places her in the way of every time they prepare for battle. They have no home, no money, nothing but what they carry upon their horses. He loves her more than he ever thought himself capable of loving another person, but love alone will not provide for her.
The thoughts consume him as they ride south, towards the next village, and he clings tightly to her as she leans back against him in the saddle, as though he can feel the very essence of her slipping through his fingers. A man less selfish would simply let her go, but he cannot fathom a life without her. Deep down, despite trying his best, he knows he will never get it right.
Beocca and Æthelwold are awaiting them when they arrive, and she leaves him with a cheerful smile and a soft kiss on the lips, explaining that she wishes to explore, a polite means to excuse herself from the discussion that she knows does not concern her. He is ever grateful for her intuitive nature, but once more left disheartened that she is placed in that position to begin with.
He is barely able to focus as Beocca relays Alfred’s demands to Uhtred. There is a dawning sense of finality settling in the pit of his stomach, causing cold tendrils of dread to spread throughout his body, and it does not come from the news of the King’s order of one hundred pieces of wergild and an oath sworn to his son, Edward. There is a price he knows he will have to pay sooner rather than later, and it will come at a greater cost to him than any fealty sworn to a future ruler.
Osferth watches as she laughs breathlessly, the sound carrying softly on the breeze. The children scurry around her skirts, rosy faced and grinning, eager to play. She had obliged and agreed to join in on their game of chase when they had invited her, excited at having new people arrive in the village. Her playing with them feels effortless, natural even, and he thinks about how easily she would adapt to motherhood, to have a babe of her own to hold in her arms. It causes a lump in his throat, his gaze growing misty as his mouth tugs downward, knowing that’s something he will never be able to give her.
He is a bastard. He will not pass that curse on by marriage or parentage, that will die with him.
But what of her wants and needs? He is depriving her of the opportunity to be a wife, a mother. He can no longer subject her to a life of vagrancy and uncertainty, simply because of his heedless desire to have her at his side. She did not ask for this, it has been thrust upon her without her say so. Her life cannot truly begin until the one she leads with him comes to an end. With a heavy heart, he decides that when they reach the next town he will travel on without her.
The village they currently occupy seems too small, too dirty, not vibrant enough for her to call home, he reasons, she deserves to live somewhere bigger and as filled with exuberant life as she is. He knows he is lying to himself, he is simply unprepared to let her go, he is not ready. He is not sure he ever will be, but he will have to be for both of their sakes.
Over the coming days, he keeps her close, committing to memory the softness of her hair between his fingers and the way the sunlight dapples upon it like fresh spun silk. He inhales the fragrant scent of her skin every time he holds her close, as though trying to permanently imprint the faint floral smell upon his mind.
The way her eyes light up whenever she smiles is the sight he will miss most of all. He wishes for that to be the only expression he ever sees upon her beautiful face. He cannot bear the thought of parting ways and seeing the heartbreak in her eyes, or the tears that might fill them. It is craven, but he knows the only way he will ever be able to leave her is if he slips away without telling her.
His heart sits like a stone within his chest when they eventually arrive at the next town. He knows that when he departs it will no longer be in tact, torn asunder as he leaves half of it behind. He can see his future darkening as he looks into her eyes, knowing it may be the final time he ever gets the opportunity to do so.
Osferth makes love to her that night, his pace unhurried, every thrust drawn out slowly, memorising the subtle movements of her hips and each soft sigh that passes her lips. His hands stroke through her hair, caressing her face, before dragging over her curves. If this is to be his final time with her then he wants it to last, wants her to feel just how much she means to him, and to be left with the memory of how utterly divine she had felt pressed against him.
“I love you,” he whispers to her, as she cuddles against his chest afterwards.
“And I love you.”
Those simple words cause his throat to tighten, knowing he will never hear her utter them again.
It is for the best, he thinks sadly as he watches her sleep peacefully next to him. She deserves the opportunity to settle down, to get married, to have a family. She deserves everything he will never be able to give her.
He slips out of the bed as dawn breaks, casting a dusky orange glow through the gap in the threadbare curtains. The loss of her warmth is intensified by the knowledge that this is his final time experiencing it, the sensation of parting from her akin to being plunged into icy water. He has to force himself to look away from her in order to gather up his clothes and get dressed, careful not to disturb her.
Hovering by the door, he hesitates a moment, staring at her as she slumbers. If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel so painful? His love for her is unconditional, however, and he longs for her to find happiness, even if that means he is not a part of it.
He hates the thought of her waking up alone, the inevitable betrayal she will feel when she realises what he has done, and it tempts him to stay, to continue to pretend that he could ever be enough for her. But he knows those feelings will pass for her, and when they do she will meet the man who will marry her and father children with her, a man who does not carry the curse of bastardry.
“There is a woman in the room upstairs,” he tells the innkeeper on his way out, handing him a coin purse containing all of the money that Osferth has to his name. “Please ensure she is well taken care of.”
His hands shake as he saddles up his horse, the void she has left behind seeming as though it will swallow him whole. He is incomplete without her, destined to go through life feeling like half of a person.
Finan raises an eyebrow at Osferth, as he tends to his own mount, eyeing him with suspicion. “She not coming with us?”
Osferth swallows thickly, an attempt to keep the emotion from his voice, as he keeps his eyes focused on the straps he buckles. “No.”
“Yes, I am!” She cries out, hurrying towards them, a bewildered look upon her face. Her hair is still tousled from sleep, suggesting she had dressed in a hurry to catch them up. “Osferth, why did you not wake me?”
His heart sinks, tears prickling his eyes as he turns to look at her, knowing he will now have to have the conversation he had been wanting to avoid all along. Finan clears his throat, looking between the two of them, before moving away towards where Uhtred and Sihtric are readying to leave.
“You are to stay here,” he says in a trembling voice, “I have left coin with the innkeeper to take care of you.”
“For how long?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion.
He lowers his gaze, guilt pooling in his gut, unsure of how to word his response. There is no kind way to say “forever” in this instance.
“For how long, Osferth?!” She asks again, her voice wavering as it raises an octave.
His eyes are sad and filled with remorse as he looks back up at her, nausea swirling in his stomach as he watches a tear slip down her cheek. His fingers twitch uselessly by his sides with the urge to wipe it away.
“Do you not want me anymore?” 
Her voice is barely above a whisper as she asks this, and it feels as though a dagger has been twisted into Osferth’s heart. How could she possibly ever believe he didn’t want her? She means everything to him.
He shakes his head, the words feeling as though they will choke him as his vision blurs. “I will never stop wanting you,” he confesses, “but that is precisely the problem. You deserve better than the life I can provide for you. I will never be able to give you children, or marry you. I am trying to do what is best for you. I want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy, you bloody fool!” She cries, the slightest hint of anger creeping into her tone. “And it is not for you to decide what is best for me. Why did you not tell me that this was how you were feeling?”
“I could not bear to have a conversation that I knew would break both of our hearts. I know that is cowardice, but I knew you would never agree to leave, and I cannot continue to hold you back from the life you deserve.”
He stares miserably at her, feeling the wetness of his tears upon his face as she swipes angrily at her own. This is not how this was supposed to go. He does not want this to be how they remember each other.
“You are right,” she says defiantly, “I would not have agreed to go. If a husband and children were what I wanted then I would have parted ways with you long ago. I am not the scared little girl you found a year ago. I make my own choices.” 
His lips part involuntarily, eyes widening slightly. “How can this possibly be the life that you would choose for yourself? How could I ever be enough?”
She sighs, reaching for his hand, clasping his fingers tightly in his. The gesture spreads warmth from the tips of his toes all the way to the top of his head.
“I love you, Osferth. You are enough for me. The life we have is enough for me. I do not wish to risk my life in childbirth, or spend my days tending to the needs of a husband who views me as something to be possessed. I want a life that is filled with adventure, I want to fall asleep under the stars, and I want to do it all with you at my side.”
A small, yet hopeful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he steps closer, tenderly wiping away the wetness beneath her eyes with his thumb. “Are you sure?”
She nods. “God brought us together for a reason. All things must end, I know this, but not what we have, just the foolish way in which you perceive it.”
He rests his forehead against hers, relief and embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I have been so stupid, can you ever forgive me? I do not know how to even begin to apologise.”
She leans in, pressing her lips to his, allowing them to linger for a moment before pulling away with a slight grin. “Save your apologies. You will need them for the innkeeper when you ask for your money back.”
He smiles. There is comfort in knowing that everything ends, because within it they have been given the opportunity to begin again.
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barbieaemond · 6 months
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requested by @hoosbandewan -> Ewan's characters smiling
+ BONUS: unhinged war criminal
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1K notes · View notes
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𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
thanks to everyone who liked the first part, i appreciate y'all🥰
Summary: You and Osferth are in love, but neither of you know the feelings are reciprocated.
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), heavy angst, idiots in love (emphasis on idiots), Osferth being a manwhore and insecure (and Finan being his wingman), canon divergence (baby monk will NOT die), whump, PTSD references, hurt/comfort, fluff (promise), fingering, oral (f!receiving), and cockwarming (if you squint)
word count | 6.2k🤙🏻
part 1 | part 2
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It had been a long, long time since Osferth rescued you.
Months had passed, a year almost having gone by, your past soon becoming somewhat of a distant memory. With the help and support of your newfound friends, you were able to live life to the fullest. Of course, you still had moments when you were back in that horrid little village, but your mind slowly started to figure out that you weren’t in constant danger anymore.
Due to Uhtred’s decisions that you couldn’t really understand, you all had moved on from Coccham, traveling north to Rumcofa where it was always cold. It wasn’t all that bad, you did prefer the cold to the blazing heat when all you could do was strip down, and even that wouldn’t be enough. So the cold was a nice change.
You finally had your own little house, in a more secluded part of this new town, which you appreciated but was fearful of all the same. A part of you, a big part actually, just wanted to stay with Osferth.
It was soon after your realization that you were in love with Osferth, is when he inexplicably started to pull away.
You didn’t understand it. Based on his interactions with you, you thought he might’ve felt the same. He started to spend less and less time with you, opting that beginning to train with Finan again was better for you, considering your swift progress with the sword. And Finan had forgiven you pretty quickly after your accidental outburst, finding out that he was more understanding than you originally thought. But you wanted Osferth to train you. You wanted his smiles of pride, not Finan’s. You wanted his hands on your body when having to demonstrate the correct combat posture. You just wanted Osferth.
The night you watched Osferth enter his own house with a lady on his arm, your heart broke into pieces.
All this time you had been hopeful he’d see you the way you see him, but seeing this display just confirmed your fears. And the worst of it was, that you were still in love with him. Even when he never made for you, even if he ignored you sometimes, even if he preferred the company of ladies with loose morals, you were still helplessly in love with him.
It was inevitable, but your mind started to go to the darkest places. Did he never see you this way? Did he find you undesirable? Was it because of your past? Did the things that were done to you make him disgusted? Has he ever seen you as whole?
You thought back to the night he gave you his cross, fiddling with the silver absentmindedly. He used to always wear the cross, why would he give something so special to you if you weren’t in fact, special to him. So, what changed? Why was he never around anymore? Did you do something to make him this way? And if so, what could you do to earn his forgiveness?
It’s not like you could’ve known why Osferth retreated from you. He didn’t really understand it himself. The two of you were…perfect. You were so incredibly important to him. He loved you, that much was true. That’s why he couldn’t burden you with the knowledge of how incredibly difficult it was for Osferth to be around you without desiring you. Carnally.
It felt like all his thoughts, night and day, were about you. How you’d look beneath him, what sounds he could elicit from you with his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He hated feeling this way. He hated that he felt no better than your former master, using you for his own pleasure whether you agreed or not. Of course, Osferth wasn’t actually doing these horrible things. But he thought of you, especially in the throws of his ecstasy, whether it was by his own hand or a woman of the night’s cunny. He was ashamed how often he needed to bed a woman, just to be rid of the aching feeling inside him whenever he gazed upon you.
Osferth could tell how confused and hurt you were by his actions, his arms becoming a safe haven of sorts. But he didn’t know if he could control his thoughts or actions in your presence, which is why he removed himself all together.
Osferth often thought what would happen if he came onto you like he’s so craved. He couldn’t possibly imagine you reciprocating his affections, so he thought of the worst case scenarios. You scream and cry, pushing him away and saying you never wanted to see him again. He thought of you being terrified to be anywhere near him. He thought of you seeing him as no better than her former master, and the idea often brought him to tears. So he decided, he’d rather you feel betrayed than scared by him. You could hate him, but he would rather die than have you scared of him.
So he continued to bed other women, pleading out your name when he reached his end, much to the dismay of these women. It wasn’t like he was doing this to hurt you, it was quite the opposite, he didn’t even realize he was hurting you until Finan talked to him one night. “You know she’s in love with you, right?”
Osferth blanched, his eyes widening at the mere idea that you could feel the same way about him. “What are you on about, Finan?” He asked, trying to make sure he heard him correctly.
“You’re mad if you can’t see it, mate. She’s obsessed with you, much like you’re obsessed with her. Can’t believe you’re still dancing around each other.”
Osferth blushed, much to the enjoyment of Finan. “I’m not…obsessed.” He almost laughed at himself with how clearly that was a lie.
“Thou shalt not lie, baby monk.” Finan teased, eliciting an eye roll from the younger man. “I don’t know what you’re so afraid of. Clearly, it can’t be rejection.”
“I don’t want her to be frightened of me.” Osferth admitted, making Finan furrow his brows.
“Why would she be frightened of ya?” He asked, concern etched into his features.
“Because I’m…I'm a sinful man, despite my best efforts. I’m so full of lust, it’s hard to even think.”
“You would force yourself on her?”
“No! Of course not! I’d sooner plunge my own sword into my heart.”
“And we know that. Everyone who knows you, knows that, baby monk. You’re scared of yourself for thoughts you can’t control. But you can control your actions. Just because you have bad thoughts doesn’t make you a bad person, especially if you’re appalled by these thoughts. Your mind just likes to fuck with ya.” Finan watched as Osferth pondered this, a pang of annoyance rippling through his body. “Talk to her tomorrow. If you don’t, I’ll kick your shins in.”
There wasn’t much room to argue after that.
The next morning, Osferth woke up with a sense of hopefulness, a shy smile decorating his face as he saw the run rise. His conversation with Finan really gave him some clarity, and he was terrified still, but he decided he didn’t want to live with regret. But first, he needed to gain your trust back and he just hoped you’d give him another chance.
Osferth fussed with his appearance for a moment before heading to your house, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, his heart beating in tandem. He didn’t stop his pace, afraid if he slowed down he’d stop altogether. But when he saw you were already outside your house, sitting in a rocking chair reading a book, Osferth froze. He was always so stunned by your beauty, even doing the most mundane things like simply reading. God, he was so in love.
Osferth winced when a twig snapped beneath his feet, alerting you of his presence, watching as your head jerked up and made eye contact with him. “Osferth…” You whispered, barely audible but just enough for him to hear, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. The sound of your voice, it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders.
“My lady…” Osferth replied breathlessly, his voice wavering with emotion. “I was wondering if I could join you?”
“You want to read with me?” You asked in slight amusement, making him blush.
“I just meant, if you’d do me the honor of allowing me to be in your company?”
You frowned. “Why now, when you haven’t wanted my company for some time?”
Osferth took a cautious step towards you, continuing when you didn’t shy away, sitting on your porch at your feet, looking up at you with the most remorseful expression he could manage. “I’ll tell you everything, my lady. But first, I just wish to tell you my absence had nothing to do with you. I’ve been…dealing with my own troubles. But every day I’ve been away from you, my life has been awful. I’ve missed you…so, so much.”
Unwanted tears sprung to your eyes, the pure emotion in his voice making your heart swell. “I’ve missed you, Osferth.” You bit your lip when your voice wavered, but it only caused him to gently take ahold of your hand. He still sat by your feet, looking up at you like you strung up the moon and stars in the sky, practically resting his cheek against your knee, the sight eliciting an inappropriate thought to cross your mind.
“I wish to tell you much more. The most important thing I need to tell you is…” Osferth exhaled a shaky breath, “is that I’m in-”
Screams echoed sharply throughout the village, Finan calling Osferth’s name, interrupting his confession and causing the two of you to stand on high alert. “Osferth?” you asked, frightened.
“Take your sword and stay hidden, alright? Promise me.” Osferth spoke sternly, looking into your eyes with such intensity that you agreed without hesitancy, following his instructions to the best of your ability.
A group of soldiers waltzed into the town, looking like they were on a mission, their swords already drawn. It took naught but a few moments for a fight to break out, blades clashing together and fists being thrown. They were separating Danes from Christians, killing any Danes, men, women, and children. You couldn’t just stand there and watch, you had to do something.
You had been in very few fights, especially fights like these, but your morals gave you little choice. When you saw a soldier strike a child to the ground, about to push his blade into their little neck, you struck first. Blood dripped down your blade, onto your hands, as you pushed your sword into the back of the soldier, the sound of the flesh being pierced making you gag. But you saved the child, bringing them back to their parents before moving on to help the next resident of Rumcofa.
If Osferth had the time, he would have been pissed. He told you not to get involved, yet you were. But he couldn’t blame you for that, in fact, it was nice to have another helping hand. He was good at multitasking, he thought, fighting off two burly men while making sure you weren’t in danger. Osferth was lucky, it followed him around, to being able to join Uhtred and his men to finding you in this lifetime, he figured he was the luckiest man around. But a person’s luck has to run out sometime.
Osferth exhaled a sharp breath as an excruciating pain resonated through his body, his mouth filling with blood as he fell to the cold ground. He heard screams, your screams, and suddenly he wasn’t thinking about the pain.
You shrieked as you watched the brute of a man shove his blade into Osferth’s side, his form crumpling to the ground. Rage overwhelmed you, and you didn’t think as you charged forwards. You couldn’t know what you even planned on doing but it didn’t matter. You felt like you had been stabbed yourself and all that was on your mind was getting revenge. And despite all your training, and the few soldiers you managed to get the best off, your mind was in the worst place, going on pure adrenaline with no thought behind your attacks. It wasn’t that surprising when the man knocked you out, stealing the sword from your hands and hitting your temple with its pommel, plunging your world into darkness.
All Osferth could do was watch in a panic as you fought to defend him, calling out your name as the attacker knocked you down, your eyes rolling back as you stopped moving.
Finan was sprinting to Osferth, but he yelled at him to make sure you were okay first, your well being more important to him than anything. And after a few moments, Finan deemed you alright, getting his wife to look after you for now as he kneeled beside Osferth with tears in his eyes. As Osferth felt his best friend’s arms around him, his fear and panic washed over him, drowning him. “Oh my God, oh my God, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!” He cried, holding on tightly to Finan.
“No, no, baby monk. You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay. I won’t let you die.” Finan sobbed, screaming for help.
Osferth whispered your name, gaining Finan’s attention back. “She’s okay?”
“Yes, yes, she’s alright.”
“Tell her,” He choked, “tell her how much I loved her. Tell her that she was the most important person in my life and that I’m sorry.”
“Tell her yourself, you daft prat. You’re gonna survive this, I promise.”
When you came to, your first thought and first word uttered was, “Osferth.”
The last thing you remembered was Osferth getting stabbed, and you running to his attacker to make sure he wasn’t stabbed again. Much use you were, you thought bitterly, you couldn’t even hold your own against this man for more than a minute. Pitiful. But that didn’t matter now, all that mattered was making sure he was alive.
You ignored all the pleas and urges from Finan’s wife and other healers taking care of you and rushed out of your room, trying to find your friends. Finally, your gaze met Finan’s, and he looked distraught. No, you thought, you wouldn’t believe it. But before you could even open your mouth to speak, Finance answered your silent question. “He’s alive…somehow.” The Irishman spoke in a broken voice, clearly just as affected as you were.
“Can I see him?”
Finan nodded solemnly. “He’s sleeping, and probably will be for a while, Ingrith tells me.”
As soon as you walked into the room, you had to hold in your gasp as you saw Osferth’s state. He was so pale, from blood loss and the cold, you’d think he was dead if you hadn’t been told otherwise. “When will he wake?”
“We don’t know…” He sighed, making your heart drop.
“But he will wake?”
“That’s our hope.”
But he didn’t wake, not for more than a few seconds at a time, muttering incoherent words before falling back asleep, not even when the surviving residents of Rumcofa had to relocate where it was more safe. You didn’t sleep, you didn’t eat; all your time was devoted to making sure Osferth’s heart was still beating, putting your ear to his chest multiple times every single day, praying to every god you could think of to just let him survive.
It was only a few days after settling in a more secure place that Osferth did finally awake. 
You were at his bedside, as you often were, reading to him and holding his hand, thinking that your voice might stir him. You almost fell off your chair in shock when you suddenly felt his hand weakly squeeze yours. Your head snapped up and saw that his eyes were already on you. “Osferth…” You called out softly, letting your book fall by the wayside to move to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. “You’re awake. At last.” Tears filled your eyes, falling down your cheeks and landing on his hand that you were now holding tightly, afraid that he’d fall back into unconsciousness.
Osferth spoke your name so softly, his voice cracking and hoarse from not using it for so long. “I must be dead, for I see only an angel before me…”
You chuckled tearfully, bringing up his hand to kiss his knuckles. “No, you’re alive. You’re alive.” You repeated, mostly trying to convince yourself.
“How long have I been asleep?” He asked, looking around the room he was in and furrowed his brows. “Where are we?”
You froze, unsure of how much you should say. You didn’t want him to faint from shock, but you couldn't lie to him either. You could never lie to him. “We left Rumcofa several days ago, everyone who survived the attack. But Uhtred is off to fight another war for Edward. They all wanted to stay until you woke, but…”
Osferth nodded solemnly. “What use would a man on the brink of death be, yeah?”
“They’ll be mad with joy to hear of your recovery, I’m sure. Especially Finan, he wept for you badly.”
“And did you? Weep for me?”
Your face flushed with heat, avoiding his gaze and instead fixing your eyes on your conjoined hands. “Yes…” You whispered. “I’ve wept every day since you were wounded. But you’re better now, awake and healing up nicely. Ingrith told me you might wake as soon as the fever leaves your body,” You placed the back of your other hand to his forehead, warm but not too warm, “and you feel fine now. Before, your skin was hot to the touch-” Osferth grabbed your wrist as you moved to pull away, eliciting a gasp from you. “O-Osferth?”
Osferth blinked, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. “Sorry.” He stuttered, releasing your wrist.
“I’ll go get Ingrith.”
“No! No…please, just…I’d like to be alone with you for a moment longer. If that’s alright, my lady?”
You nodded, a bit too eagerly. “Of course. I’d love nothing more.”
And stay with him you did, up until you insisted you tell Ingrith and had her check on him. The wound was healing nicely, a deep red scar forming over the stab. It really was a miracle that he was alive, the blade barely missing the vital organs the body needs to function. You don’t know what you would've done if Osferth had died, the thought making your chest tighten uncomfortably, panic overriding your senses. But all you had to do to rid yourself of those feelings, was to simply look at Osferth, gaining his strength back more and more every day and starting to walk without help. 
Almost two weeks went by until he started to train again, though very carefully. Seeing grow stronger didn’t help ease your nerves as much as you thought it would, you figured you’d keep him on bed rest forever if you had any say. It took Ingrith assuring you that he was practically fully healed for you to stop fretting over him like a concerned mother. But Osferth didn’t seem to mind it all that much, a soft amused smile gracing his features every time you asked if he was alright. His answer was always yes, and he even told you not to worry so much, trying to come across as nonchalant so it didn’t seem like he was completely affected by your concern.
Osferth never did get a chance to confess to you that day, the fight in Rumcofa having such unfortunate timing. Though, you never brought it up, the fact almost making his insecurities come back and suffocate him. But he trusted Finan, and even though he was an occasional prankster, he’d never try to give someone false hope.
Osferth tossed and turned one night, thinking about you and his suspended confession. It’s ridiculous, why couldn’t he have gotten the words out quicker, rather than prolong those simple words. He said it to you every day in his mind, the words coming out so easily and repeatedly. Ridiculous. This was ridiculous.
As soon as the thought appeared in his mind, Osferth jumped up from bed. He knew it was entirely inappropriate, thinking about coming to you in the middle of the night, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he told you how he felt. And to his utter surprise, when he opened his front door, there you were. 
It was raining, the droplets of water pelting the roof of the timber home, the occasional thunder rumble making the frames vibrate. And there you were, a wet and shivering figure, your clothes melding to you like a second skin; Osferth could see your breath coming out in quick and shallow puffs. Even in the dark with naught but a lantern that he lit to light his way, he could see the tears in your eyes, only a keen eye would’ve been able to differentiate the rain from the tear drops. His face immediately fell in concern, and it only took him calling out your name softly for you to collapse in his arms.
Osferth quickly pulled you past the threshold of the doorframe, bringing you in from the cold and holding you tightly to him, the uncomfortable feeling of his dampening clothes the furthest thing from his mind. “My lady?” He spoke gently, like he was trying not to spook you, “What’s happened?” You mumbled words incoherently, your face pressed against his chest muffling what you were attempting to say. Osferth had to pull you off, not completely, just to look at your face. “What was that?”
“You were dead.” You cried, “You were killed and I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch!”
“A dream…” He realized, sighing in sympathy and pulling you back onto his chest. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay. Here-” He took a hold of your hand, pressing the tips of your fingers to the pulse point in his neck, the blood flowing through his veins, the throbbing pushing at your fingertips minutely. “Do you feel? And you hear by heartbeat?”
“Mhm.” You sniffled, starting to calm down in the soothing cage of his arms.
“See? I’m okay. I’m not hurt anymore. I’m safe. We both are.”
“I’m sorry…” You hiccupped.
Osferth shook his head, cupping your jaw gently and forcing your eyes to his. “Hey, none of that. It’s not your fault. Understand me?” Reluctantly, you shook your head, wiping away your tears with your already damp hands. And you shivered, your body suddenly registering the cold. “Let’s get you warm, okay?”
And in a matter of minutes, Osferth had lit a fire in his hearth, the flames roaring to life and eliciting a sigh of relief from you as you saw in front of it on a pile of wool blankets he’d spread out for the two of you. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Osferth, truly. It’s just…when my mind showed me such a vivid thing-”
“I understand completely, my lady. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in your place. Besides,” Osferth grunted softly as he plopped himself down beside you, your knees barely touching, “I was about to come see you myself.”
You furrowed your brows. “Why?” And suddenly, Osferth was that same scared boy he was before he met Uhtred. He hadn’t meant to be so brazen, but he wanted to ease your mind so badly, he didn’t think you’d ever ask why.
“Uh, um,” Osferth swallowed thickly, his body becoming much too warm for his liking, “just wanted to check on ya, is all.” Liar.
“Oh…” You seemed to say in an almost disappointed tone.
Osferth sighed. Ridiculous.
“Actually,” He almost winced, his body, one thinking this was a good idea, was suddenly betraying him. No, he thought, he wouldn’t repress his feelings any longer. “Do you remember our conversation before the fight in Rumcofa?”
Your face flushed with heat, an achy feeling spreading in your heart. “You said you missed me.” You smiled softly at the memory, but your brows furrowed. “But you were trying to tell me something else, weren’t you?” Osferth nodded nervously, running his hands up and down his thighs, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. You playfully bumped his shoulder with your own, “Well?”
“I’minlovewithyou-” He gasped.
“What?” You almost squawked, his words jumbled and rushed, making entirely no sense to your ears.
But suddenly, Osferth grinned, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. He said it, finally. That’s all it took really, just to get it out there to make it more easy to say. Sure, it wasn’t the best way to go about it, but he did it. “I’m in love with you.” And this time, he didn’t rush. In fact, it was the most clear and precise you had ever heard him. He took his time saying the words this time, savoring them, just in case it was the last time he could.
“You’re…in love with me?” You were looking up at him with wide eyes, an adorable childlike awe displaying in your expression.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Completely and hopelessly. I…have been, for a while now. I wanted to tell you sooner but, ya know.” He gestured to his stab wound. You felt breathless, your throat constricting as you tried to fight back another bout of tears. But Osferth took it the wrong way. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I knew there was a high chance you’d be completely repulsed. That’s why I tried to stay away for so long because I didn’t want you scared of me like-”
“Osferth.” Responding to his name and your touch to his jaw, turning him to face you, he didn’t see one trace of disgust or fear in your eyes. “I could never be repulsed by you, or scared. Why would you ever think that?”
Osferth blushed a bright red, the flames from the hearth making his skin look an even darker red. “Since I’ve decided to be so honest tonight…you should know I also yearn for you, my lady. Your…touch. But I also want you to know it’s because I love you, not because I’m some…lecherous sinner. Although, I suppose I am that too.”
“Why would you think I’d be repulsed because you desire me so?”
“Well, because…because…uh.”
You closed your eyes in understanding, nodding slightly. “If you think I’d ever be able to compare you, sweet boy, to that monster, you’re sorely mistaken. You are nothing like him. Do you really think I would’ve kept close to you if you had been?”
“I suppose not. I just never wanted you to feel like I’m pressuring you into something you don’t want…”
“And that, my dear Osferth, is why I’m completely and hopelessly in love with you too.”
Osferth’s eyes widened. “R-Really?”
You smirked. “Shall I prove it to you?” You’ve never really kissed or been kissed, willingly at least, so as you leaned forward, you prayed that Osferth wouldn’t laugh as you softly pressed your lips against his. 
It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the aspect of your choice in the matter only amplifying the sensation. And for Osferth? It was hard to keep in the whimper that was so desperate to escape him, but you pulled away, all too soon. You opened your eyes to see Osferth’s was still closed, his lips chasing yours with a blissed out expression on his face. He whispered out your name so softly, you could scarcely hear it. He sounded so needy, it lit a fire in your belly, much like the one still blazing in the fireplace.
“I shan’t ask for more, if you do not wish to give more.”
“I do, though, want more. I fear I want much, much more.” Your expression had noticeably darkened, lust filled, and Osferth had never seen this of you before. It wasn’t a bad change, though he was apprehensive.
“Are…Are you sure, my lady? I don’t want you to regret this. I’d hate for you to regret this.”
“I find that I have no regrets with you, sweet Osferth. Just promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“You’ll stop if I ask?”
“I wouldn’t dare disobey you, my love.”
“Good,” You leaned forward to give him another kiss, a bit more forceful and more sure of yourself, “because if you do, I’ll kill you with the sword you gifted me, baby monk.” You teased, making him giggle, the purest sound you would ever hear in your lifetime, you were sure. And this time, when you each pressed your lips together, it was filled with an altogether different feeling, charged and motivated, the thought of something more promising if you continued fueling your actions. It probably was because of the fire, but your body warmed and warmed to the point you thought your clothes would melt off your body if you kept them on any longer. “Can you help me take these off?” You asked shyly, gesturing to your still damp clothing.
Osferth’s eyes widened comically, that ever present blush on his face warming your heart better than fire in the hearth next to you. “S-Sure.” He stuttered, carefully and delicately removing each article of clothing (after asking if you were sure a few more times) until you were down to your bare skin. “Have I ever told you how absolutely breathtaking you are?”
You giggled, slightly self conscious. “I don’t think so.”
Osferth gently slapped himself. “What an idiot I am, huh?”
“You will be if you don’t take off your clothes too.” And with that, it was almost at the speed of light that all Osferth’s clothes were thrown into a pile of the floor, mingling with yours. You inhaled a breath as your eyes traced his frame, his pale skin making his battle scars more prominent, but you found that they made him more handsome. You didn’t mind that he was doing the same to you. “I don’t know quite what to do now…” You whispered, gently taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Will you help me?”
“Of course.” He replied back shakily, moving closer to you until you sat side by side, your exposed skin rubbing up against his, causing you to shiver pleasantly. “We’ll take it slow. I don’t want to rush this, not with you.” 
Osferth maneuvered you so that you were laying on your back, him resting beside you, propped up on one elbow, his other hand gently running up and down your torso. Gooseflesh rose along your skin as his calloused fingers marked a path across your body, from your jaw, down between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach to the tufts of wiry hair at the beginning of the apex of your thighs. “I have to ask again, love. Are you sure you want this? Want me?”
You could’ve whined, but you maintain your composure, however much was left. “With every iota of my soul.”
Osferth leaned down to kiss you passionately, that whine you had been holding in finally coming out when you felt his fingers dip in between you already silk folds. “So soft…” He hummed, trailing kisses down your neck to your breasts, covering one of your pebbled nipples with his tongue, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were until now, his mouth sucking you in deeper as he slowly inched a finger inside you.
You moaned as he curled his finger, finding your sweet spot with inhuman ease. “Osferth…” You breathed, and he answered by gently tapping your sensitive nub with his thumb as he added another finger. “Osferth!”
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked immediately, causing you to chuckle wantonly, his eyes darkening as he felt your walls squeeze his fingers.
“No, heavens, no. Please, keep going.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, as he continued his ministrations with an added ferocity that had you aching your back of the blankets, moaning and bucking into his hand. A strange sensation that you couldn’t quite put into words seemed to keep building and building in the pit of your stomach, your eyes rolling back each time a deep pang of pleasure resonated through you. And as Osferth kissed you roughly and added a third finger inside you, the building sensation spilled over; like a fire doused with gasoline, you ignited, flames licking you from the inside out as you rode out the glowing waves of ecstasy with little care how loud you became.
And when it was all over, Osferth was there to soothe your burns.
“Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, running his hand along the inside of your spread thighs.
“More than alright.” You smiled in a haze.
As you looked down, you couldn’t help but notice Osferth’s hardened length. You were surprised how it grew in size, always a wonder how such could fit inside a woman’s body. You absentmindedly reached out to touch him, a soft huff escaping his lips as you ran your hand along the silky skin. “We don’t have to do anything else, if you aren’t ready. I’m perfectly content having given you the pleasure you so deserve.”
“I told you I wanted you, Osferth. I meant that. I want you. All of you.”
Osferth pulled your hand away, kissing it before moving to settle in between your legs, the tip of his length prodding at your inner thigh before he guided it to your entrance. “Just tell me if you want to stop, for any reason. Promise me.” You sealed your promise with a kiss, nodding to him and he nodded back before very slowly pushing himself inside you, the both of you letting out gasps at the feeling. “Oh Lord above…” He groaned, bottoming out and stilling, burying his face in the crook of your neck, giving you however long you needed to adjust, but you found you didn’t need much time.
You whined, trying to cant your hips to get some very needed friction, but Osferth was too heavy. “Please…”
“I’m afraid…if I move so soon, I will not be able to last for very long, my love.” He spoke, his voice and body shaking. “I want…I need this to last.”
“Hey,” you lifted his head, looking at him lovingly, the flames of the fire shining in his bright blue eyes, “this will not be the first and last time we make love.”
“You don’t know that. I fear danger lurks around every corner now. We aren’t promised tomorrow.”
You kissed him, trying to push all his worries away. “Then make love to me as many times as you can.”
“Please?” He whined.
“Please.”
You cried out loudly as Osferth began to thrust into you wildly, moaning just as loudly with you, his cock hitting you in just the right places, the loud slapping of wet skin making your cheeks flush with heat. Your walls squeezed him perfectly, almost sucking him in deeper. Every ridge and every vein you could feel drove you wild, that same sensation building in you yet again. If you weren’t in such a pleasured haze, you’d be worried who might be able to hear you and Osferth, just from your moans alone.
“Oh, God, love. Feels so good. You feel so good.” Osferth groaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” And before you could reach another peak, he pulled out quickly, his warm spend shooting out of his tip, white streaks coating your stomach. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He moaned breathlessly, his blissed out expression the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
“You’re beautiful, Osferth.” You whispered, the borderline predatory look in his eyes making you shy.
“You almost came again.” He spoke apologetically.
You smiled. “It’s alright. You already took care of me once.”
“‘S not enough.” He growled, lowering his face to your weeping cunny and before you could ask what he was doing, the words were stolen from you as his tongue licked and sucked at your nub, your denied peak building back up rapidly at his talented mouth.
“Oh, Osferth…” You almost sobbed, overly sensitive but not enough that you wanted him to stop, and from the moans he released, it seemed he was taking as much pleasure from this as you were.
“Come for me, my love. Please.” He begged, his words and moans causing vibrations against your mound, the pleasure overwhelming and all encompassing, your peak spilling on his lips and tongue.
Osferth rested against your inner thigh, his hooded eyes watching your cunt quiver and spasm as you came down from your high, the urge to dive back in almost too overpowering. But he withheld, coming back up to lay at your side with a crooked grin. “Are you okay?”
“How many times have you asked me that tonight, do you think?” You teased, catching your breath and moving to lay on his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart.
“If you’re annoyed with how many times I asked? Then just enough.”
Needless to say, neither you or Osferth got much sleep that night.
By the time everyone else returned for Osferth, the pair of you were inseparable. Where you go, he goes, and vice versa. It didn’t take a genius to see how disgustingly in love the two of you were. And neither of you expected to get away without a little bit of teasing.
As Finan watched the two of you, his words escaped him before he could even stop himself.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
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tags: @tssf-imagines, @little-diable, @fan-goddess, @hiraethrhapsody, @chainsawsangel, @lauraneedstochill, @greenowlfactif, @st-eve-barnes
thanks for the support😊
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bhxrdy · 4 months
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the last kingdom, S04E10 | osferth, finan & sihtric
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kitkatscabinet · 1 year
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Baby it's cold inside
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Osferth x reader
Summary: Nights in Bebbanburg are cold, and even subconsciously you refuse to spend them alone
Requested by anon
Word count: 800
Osferth had expected many things when they had finally helped his lord to reclaim Bebbanburg. He expected having to rebuild, take up residence there, and much more. What he hadn't expected, however, was how bloody cold it had gotten.
The snow and chilly winter breeze seemed to be made ten times worse by the sea breeze. It had been bearable at first, but overnight the temperatures had dropped to new hellish chills.
It had gotten so bad recently that you had all but refused to leave your room and join the boys in the hall. Your absence was noticeable and in the last week it was already common knowledge that if you weren't around then you were holed up in your bed.
Cradling his cup of ale with stiff fingers, Osferth looks up at the familiar call of his name. Sihtric was hauling around an arm full of firewood, and was motioning at Osferth to follow. Downing the last of his drink, he was quick to stand and jog over to Sihtric's side, nose scrunching in annoyance when the logs are immediately deposited into his arms.
"Our resident hibernator has requested fire" Sihtric says in lieu of an explanation, before offering a teasing grin "I figured you'd want to be the one to warm them up."
Osferth's cheeks heat in embarrassment, but he offers no rebuttal, following the still-grinning Sihtric to your room. Upon claiming the Bebbanburg you had immediately taken one of the only rooms with an in-built fire place. No one had been brave enough to deny you.
Knocking, Sihtric received no answer and considering you hadn't screamed at him deemed it ok to enter. It quickly became apparent why you hadn't answered, bundled up in furs up to your neck and dead asleep.
Osferth took a few seconds to admire your sleeping face, scrunched up in annoyance at the cold. For a second he had thought you awake, squirming in place to try and get warm with an adorably grumpy whine. You'd always hated the cold, and Osferth had quickly had to become used to you worming your way into someone's bed when you got too cold.
Where once Osferth had been completely scandalised he had become riddled with jealousy whenever you went to someone that wasn't him for warmth.
Hearing Sihtric laugh behind him, Osferth immediately turns, face ablaze when he realises how blatantly he had been staring. Moving swiftly past the snickering man, he got to work on starting the fire, staring firmly into the kindling flames.
As if sensing that a fire had been started, you let out a happy sigh. Turning to look at you, Osferth noticed that your face had smoothed out considerably, and you were letting out the most adorable happy mumbles.
Osferth was across the small room and by your side before he could stop himself, long fingers stroking reverently at the exposed skin of your cheek.
"'Sferth" you mumbled, and for a second he was afraid he'd woken you. Yet to his great surprise, you remained asleep, leaning into his touch as you called his name one more.
"M'cold. Need my baby monk." Osferth didn't think it was possible for his heart to beat any faster or louder than it did after your words sunk in, skin heating in a way that couldn't be attributed to the fire. Sihtric was positively howling with laughter from behind him, and it was a testament to how deeply you were sleeping that you didn't wake.
Osferth was frozen. Heart hammering and unable to tear his eyes away from your sleeping face. Suddenly his world was tilting as a hand on his back shoved him down and onto your bed. Despite his best efforts, Osferth still couldn't avoid landing on top of you.
That was enough to wake you, bleary eyes looking around in confusion as you fought slightly to catch your breath. Osferth frantically tried to apologise but Sihtric had fled and you were not even close to being lucid.
Halfway through his newest round of apologies, your eyes finally seem clear enough to recognise him. "Shhh, sleepy time" you simply mumbled, throwing an arm over him and pulling him under your furs. You had moved alarmingly quickly for one so sleepy, and before Osferth could protest you had wrapped around him like a snake, falling back to sleep almost instantly.
After several failed attempts at escape Osferth finally accepted his reality. Finally allowing himself to relax, he revelled in the feel of your face buried into his neck, and hand on his pounding heart. Lulled by the warmth and happiness he felt at having you in his arms he eventually drifted off to sleep beside you.
TAGLIST: @kaitieskidmore1 @kitty-marie725 @nyctophilic0vitnir @jamespotterismydaddy @thelittleswanao3 @eudximoniakr
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angelsworks · 1 year
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Little Witch The last kingdom x reader
Chapter 5
Next chapter -> H E R E
Series Masterlist -> Here
Type: Series
Summary: Your journey leads you to a town, where you plan to meet Astrid.
Warnings: 18 +, mature themes, abuse, injury, underwear shopping.
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Sun breaks across the previously grey sky. It gives some indication to what time it is. You’ve been travelling since the morning. According to Finan it should only be half a days ride to the next town. You would estimate that the group had been travelling for two hours already.
For two hours you’d been in front of Uhtred. Pinned to the front of the saddle due to his size. Caged in by his thick thighs and strong forearms. It would almost be enjoyable if your back would cease its torment.
During your time spent with Steffen he had tried everything to make you break. His ideas weren’t often repeated. Giving you a glimpse into how sick and twisted he could really be. On one of your last days with him, he’d taken a whip to your back. Creating lacerations both long and deep all over.
Even now you were sure they were still open. You had no time from then till now to treat your wounds. Despite Uhtred being your master, you weren’t completely comfortable with him. Not comfortable enough to tell him about said injuries. It was hard to picture Uhtred being a healer of any kind. His talents lay elsewhere.
As far as country roads go, you are convinced this is the most boring. The trees all look the same, the grass is green, the road is a worn yellow colour. Every clop of the horses kicks up dust and continues to fill the air with sound of their hooves. It’s become background noise at this point. You wonder if silence would be better in some cases.
Your eyes glance to beyond the trees that line the sides of the road. Seeing more green grass, ferns bushes and finally flowers.
You see a bunch of pink and white tulips. Growing in a dominantly brown area. They stand out and attract your attention immediately. You know white tulips are Astrids favourite. Pink tulips being your own. The colour is one of your favourites. Reminding you of the sky before night, turning various shades of pink. It takes you back to your family’s farm.
Although the thoughts fill you with sorrow, a strange part of you wants the flowers. A reminder maybe? Of a happier time. Or maybe just because they are beautiful.
You look beside you, seeing all riders preoccupied with thinking. Even Uhtred, as you turn to look behind you, is busy with his own thoughts. Eyes glossy and attention elsewhere.
You decide that now is the time. You put your hands under Uhtred’s arms, holding loosely to the reins. With a tug up his hands have come off, giving you change to move your legs. You swing your right leg over the saddle and slide off the horse. Without stopping you dart into the woods, hearing Uhtred dismount behind you.
Your heart pounds as your feet beat against the floor. Dodging trees in your path as you make your way through the woods. Finally you see your tulips and drop to the floor. You’ve picked three pink and four white by the time Uhtred puts his arms around you. Putting you over his shoulder in one swing.
You grip tightly on to your flowers as he carries you back to his horse.
“You are quite the runner little witch.” He acknowledged, while you stay silent. Happy to have your flowers.
When you reach his horse you can see the rest of the group on guard. Expecting some threat to jump from behind Uhtred.
Instead of saying anything he turns around. Showing you over his shoulder, flowers in hand.
“Flowers?” Finan asks incredulous, “All that for flowers?”
You nod, “They’re pink.”
Your response elicits a huff from the Irishman. It brings a small smile to Uhtred’s lips. Though he hides it from you.
You feel Uhtred’s arms tighter around you this time. Making sure you won’t get the slip on him again. Silence falls over the group once more.
Aftwr a few more hours the town starts to appear. First you see more frequent houses, some farmers of both crops and animals. Then you see small groups of buildings, small villages. Then finally the town. It had a wooden fence surrounding it. Guard manning the gate and walking the fence in rotations.
Uhtred and his group pass without problem. The Lord being well enough known in this town that they show him respect. He’s welcomed in and told where to find lodging.
Uhtred halts his horse near a stable. The stable hand coming out to greet him quickly. The men remove their bags of valuables and hand the horses over to the boy.
You see Uhtred take rope out of his bag, holding out a hand expectantly. You’ve seen this in your vision, so you’ve got some idea to wear it’s going.
He ties the rope around your wrist, acting as a sort of bracelet. Then wraps it around a few times before tying the rope around his own wrist. The short length of rope means you can’t get far away without him knowing.
“I won’t have you running away now Witch.” Uhtred tells you. The last word attracts the attention of the stablehand. The boy looking around curiously at you. Quickly turning when he sees Finan and Sihtric’s glare towards him.
Uhtred leads you around the town beside him. The five of you trek through alleyways and streets alike. Passing many people as you go. None wearing the dark blue cloak you are hoping for.
Uhtred stops you when the group reaches a market square.
He turns to Finan, “I have business with the witch. I’ll meet you at the ale house soon.”
Finan is more than happy to oblige. Leading the way for Osferth and Sihtric.
With tulips still in hand you walk beside Uhtred through the streets. You notice how they seem to have gotten busier. More carriages, more carts, more people. At some point Uhtred had reached down for your hand. Finding it easier to manoeuvre the two of you around. The feeling makes you smile.
You pass through a maze of Stalls. Each covered in a different banner. They sell all sorts of trinkets on the table. From gold and silver to seeds and bread. You see all kinds of gemstone captured in metal on tables filled with jewellery.
You’re lead through the maze. The man attached to you seems to have an exact location in mind. He’s found that location when he stops in front of a stall that’s more hidden to the crowds. A woman stands at the front of the stall, looking over a variety of fabric samples.
“Elenor, it is good to see you.” He greets the woman. She looks at the two of you. A new spark lighting in her eyes. Her face has aged, her hair beginning to grey. But her smile could belong to a young woman. It lights her face and the world around her.
“Uhtred!” She cried, moving around the table to hug him.
“My lord, I did not expect to see you again.” She admits.
He pats her gently on the shoulder. Moving back to reveal you to her.
“I came in needs of your skills.” He tells her. While motioning to you.
She looks you over with appraising eyes. Looking over your rubber ‘shoes’ and black ‘dress’. Her face turns sour as she looks at your tattered clothes.
“My, my,” she repeats again. “Uhtred, you think too highly of my skills.”
He laughs, “Nonsense lady. You are the best seamstress in England. You could surely do something.”
She turns again. This time looking over your body, not your clothes.
Without your knowledge she is estimating your sizes. Mentally working out measurements for dresses and cloaks and shoes and robes.
“I will try Uhtred. What do you need?” She asks. Moving back to her table to look at the various fabrics she has.
You watch with surprised wonder as Uhtred’s words flow into an order. He points to fabrics and names a gown he wants made from that. You hear him mention a cloak and shoes and finally nightwear. A part that makes you blush, as he points to the more lacy of the fabrics for those choices. You had no idea Uhtred was so knowledgeable in womens clothes. You would tease him if you didn’t feel so grateful for it.
“Hmm, a large order like this will surely cost Uhtred.” She mutters, looking over her ribbons and fabrics.
“It will be no issue. Here,” he pulls money out of a coin bag attached to his belt. “Take this as a part of what is to come.”
She smiles, retreating to her tent. The large black tent is set up behind her stall. Blending into the background. As the flap opens you see a whole work room of dresses and gowns galore. The sight makes your eyes widen.
A tug on your wrist has you moving back through the market maze. Back to the square where you started. You take a new path to the Alehouse. The roads less crowded on this part of town.
“Thank you Uhtred.” You tell him, trying to meet his gaze.
“I can’t have my witch looking like a beggar.” He brushed you off. Trying to dirty the kind gesture.
You see through his act and can’t help but feel a little happier. The tulips in your hands are still surprisingly intact. It reminds you that you need to be looking for Astrid.
Among the carts of traders you see her. Her cloak is down and her hair is flowing around her. While she stands out from the crowd, the market is much too busy to keep an eye on her.
The constant pull from Uhtred makes it no easier to see her. Even with your frantically moving head, moving from side to side. When you leave that particular street you realise it’s hopeless. Not while you’re attached to Uhtred.
So you sigh and decide to wait for another opportunity.
The air inside the alehouse is hot from the crowd inside. The walls trap in the shouts and laughs and belches. The sounds bouncing of the stone walls.
Uhtred leads you to a table in the corner. Sihtric and Osferth are already sat. You see Finan at the bar, seeming to be flirting with the barmaid from the way he leans against the bar and speaks in low tones.
“Sit witch.” Uhtred commands when he sees you stood there staring.
When your sat he pulls at the rope on his wrist. Loosening it in his end, then uniting the knot around yours. It brings small relief to have your wrist unbound. You place your bunch of flowers on the oak table. Taking a moment to rub your now free wrist.
When Finan returns he looks very proud of himself. He carries two metal tankards, you assume for himself and Uhtred. Sihtric and Osferth already nursing their own.
The group talks amongst themselves. Talking of plans for when they reach Coccham. Some plans of new buildings for town, or their next adventure. You tune most of it out. Still trying to find an opportunity to go and search for Astrid.
When they men have moved on to their second tankards and are well on their way to getting drunk, you decide to make your move.
“I need to piss.” You say, hard in your resolve and leave little room for embarrassment or a smile. You hope the crude nature of your request makes them believe your lie.
It brings a choke from Osferth and a laugh from Finan.
“You will piss later.” Uhtred tells you. Brushing you off.
You frown. You need him to let you leave, now.
“Either I leave and find somewhere to go,” You pause. Making sure he sees the seriousness in your eyes. “Or I piss here.”
Finan stops his laughter with his hand as he watches Uhtred for a reaction.
His brows furrow, feeling as though you hide something more.
“Fine, you can have your piss. If you go anywhere else other than to piss, I’ll tie you to my bed post for the night.” Your eyes widen at his hushed words.
Trying to give little away as you nod. No matter where you end up tonight, you need to see Astrid. So you grab your flowers then stand and leave. making your way to the main town square again.
When you leave the men pull their heads closer, ready to question Uhtred. It’s clear from taking the flowers, you lie about where you plan to go.
“I think she plans to leave Uhtred.” Sihtric suggests. Keeping his voice low as he leans in towards the Lord. He knows his friend plans to keep you in their company. For obvious reasons he sees that you have the potential to be useful.
Uhtred nods, “That’s why I plan for you to follow her.”
Sihtric huffs, shaking his head. The last thing he wants to do is follow you anywhere.
“A monk would be spotted too easily from the crowd,” Uhtred tries to reason. “And Finan has no knowledge on being quiet.”
The comment causes the Irishman to jab him playfully. Sihtric relents, finishing his tankard in a few swallows and following you out the door.
He follows you as you wander down the street of the alehouse. Missing plenty of communal latrines on your way. Clearly you are not going to piss like you say. The sight makes his eyes narrow, feeling more suspicious of you.
He watches as you reach the town square. Looking around almost desperately, pink and white tulips in hand. You stop looking and almost run down towards an alleyway.
He follows at a distance. Positioning himself at the mouth of the alley so he can both see and hear what you do and say. But stays close enough to the marchants that he doesn’t look like he’s spying on you.
You almost tackle Astrid as you embrace her. Your eyes start to leak when you realise you can hold her again. From your time at the covenant, she had become a sort of second mother to you.
She wraps her strong arms around you. The action making you feel young again. Before things took such a turn.
“Hello (Y/N).” It’s the first time in a long time someone has used your name. Not witch, not lady, not anything other than your name. It fills your body with warmth.
“Oh Astrid, so much has happened. There’s so much to tell you and little time.” You practically sob. Burying your head into her leather chest plate.
Under her dark blue cloak she’s adorned in armour. The sight not unusual for the Dane. She often wore clothes similar to those seen on the battle field. You felt the hilt of her sword against your hip.
“I know little star,” you earned the name from all your stargazing. “The Elders have seen your struggle. They know of your parents death, of your killing of Steffens men, they know of Steffen. Child I am sorry for the pain he has coursed. But I have come to give you a message from the Elders.”
“They have told me of what they see. They say you travel now with your true master, Uhtred of Bebbaburgh. Is this true?”
You nod pulling away from the woman. Holding your flowers tightly in your fist.
“I am glad you have found protection. The Elders tell me to warn you of Steffen. He continues to hunt for you. He plans to take you to his bed and break your bond to Uhtred.”
You think you should be unable to feel shock at this point. You knew that was his plan for you. You just don’t expect him to still be hunting.
“They want you to know about your bond to a master, specifically Uhtred,” she paused looking around. “They have seen a future union between the two of you. One of marriage.”
You face heats and you feel dizzy. Between you and Uhtred? The man that practically hates you? He is your master and nothing more.
“If a seer and their master bind,” she raises an eyebrow so you can see the meaning behind her words. “Their bond cannot be broken. He will stay your master even if Steffen tries to break your bond. You will stay forever attached to Uhtred.”
It’s hard to process the new information. You would do anything to make sure you don’t lose your bond to Uhtred. But sex?
You’d never done anything with anyone before. You’d never had the chance. But now you find out that having sex with anyone but Uhtred will break the bond between you two. Leaving you masterless. Your sight would be uncontrolled. Who knows where it might lead you.
How would Uhtred feel about this. He seems to care very little about learning anything about you. He calls you witch, not your name. Yet he still keeps you with him.
“I also come bringing gifts. This dagger is for you. It’s small and light and easy to conceal. You can do so in this leg scabbard.” She pulls the dagger from her bag, handing it to you.
She also pulls out a pot of what looks like a herby paste. “This is for your wounds. You must apply it once daily for the next few week. Or else they will become yellow and poisoned . May Steffen rot in Niflheim the puny bastard.”
Her insult makes you laugh, as pitiful as it is. You dry your tears, handing her your flowers.
“Thank you little star. You are too kind. I must leave now. The seers have sent me elsewhere.” She tells you. Putting the flowers in a pocket of her bag.
“When will I see you again?” You ask, voice weak, afraid of her answer.
She wipes your face, “Do not cry baby seer, fate will have us meet soon. I am certain.” She hugs you a final times before leaving the alley.
When she is out of sight you steady yourself against the wall. Then begin to sob, loudly. You slide down the wall, collapsing to your knees. You wish for the life of your mother, your father, to return to you. You wish Steffen would leave you gone. You wish your new Master and his friends cared for you more. All while feeling the horrid cuts along your back against the cold stone wall.
You take many deep breaths to calm yourself. Feeling the tears drain out of you, along with the last of your energy. You wish to be in bed, sleeping. Back on your families farm. You wish for your only worries to return to feeding the horses and collecting the harvest.
But that was not the case. Now you needed to get up and deal with your situation. It would not be solved sitting on the floor of a dirty alley.
So you get up, brush your tatty dress off, and begin your walk back to the Tavern.
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