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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 2 days

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Jealousy (Sihtric Kjartansson x reader)

synopsis: An order from Uthred has Sihtric and you in a situation that is less than to both of your liking, for very seperate reasons. However it also brings to light more than what you were sent there to do.

warnings: Sihtric being jealous (obvi), smut but nothing too graphic, p in v, love confessions, afab reader

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

(If you want to be tagged in the `kissing booth AU´, for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you @wildchild2707 for the lovely request! I´m sorry it took a bit to actually get to and finish it. I still hope you like it!<3

Dividers by me

You thought it was a bad idea, but when Uthred had come to you the previous night to talk to you about his plans for you and Sihtric to secretly spy on another clan of Danes that had settled to draw the borders between Daneland and the remaining land ruled by Saxons even further, you couldn't deny him. Still, you spend the whole night awake with all sorts of bad feelings swirling in your stomach. It was one thing not to let the others know where you went, but to stage a fight... It wouldn't have been your first choice. The allegiance of the men surrounding you seemed to waver from day to day as it was already. Of course, Uthred wouldn´t hear any of these concerns. According to your leader the clan was prone to violent behaviour just because they could and made up of many different country men. Your knowledge of languages would come in practical according to Uthred, but the prospect of being able to use your knowledge didn´t make you any happier. Instead of planning a staged fight, he should have been planning the attack that wiped out the clan. A deep sigh left your lungs as you sit with the others, waiting for the operation to start. The sound luckily goes unnoticed by Finan and Osferth, who are too busy with their own banter to pay attention to their surroundings. It was driving you crazy. They had fought against Danes alongside women before. What made you so different from them that you weren’t good enough to do something you were easily capable of. At least in his eyes. He had seen you fight and now when he had the chance to harness your power, he was going so far as to even put someone by your side to, what, secure everything would go to plan? Sihtric breaks your line of thought by 'provoking' Uthred, catching the attention of everyone sitting around in the tavern. It was a mess with the two men 'arguing´ while Finan tried to intervene and conciliate them, of course to no avail. After several fruitless attempts you begrudgingly play your part.

“Sihtric.” You call out to him with a firm voice. Surprisingly having his attention immediately. The brown puppy eyes search yours as you continue to speak in a calming tone. “Let us go.”

The two of you make your way away from the ground. Ignoring the off handed comment from somewhere in the crowd about how whipped Sihtric must be to follow you so easily and how you had him henpecked. It made your blood boil and fists clench tightly to be reduced to this caricature of an angry housewife, but you had to prepare for the coming night.

When everyone finally goes to sleep, you sneak to the stables, take your horses and begin the journey to the new camp. It is tough, but you get accepted by them eventually and trusted enough to collect the information you want to get. Yet the longer you stay there, a change settles over your life, that no one could have foreseen.

Your plan going into the mission was to get in get the information and get out. To get involved with anyone as little as possible. If only plans always worked out the way they are supposed to.

Over time, you grew closer to one of the men. He had to be a few years older, yet you found yourself sparring with him often and even outside of that, something akin to the sentiments of a friendship formed between the two of you. Even if it admittedly made Sihtric quite huffy, you felt like Krystof saw you for all of you, there were no lingering or lusting glances or looks of underestimation and that felt nice, it truly did. It was a welcome change, even if the simple sight of it soured not only Sihtric's mood, but also the friendship you had once shared. If one could have called it that before, it surely wasn't anymore now. Discussions of what information you had gathered and steps to take from then on were laced with sarcastic comments of all kinds. Every single one going ignored or being answered by a roll of your eyes. You told him often enough why you were leaning into the affectionate behaviour of some of the men. It is not until one dinner that you get an explanation ass to where these remarks stemmed from.

Krystof and you sat together, eating and talking with your heads close together as to understand each other over the noise of the others, when you catch Sihtric shooting you another one of those sour looks.

“You are aware he is far beyond wanting to simply hump you, right?” Krystof asks with a conspiratorial grin.

“Do not be silly now.” You scold him, but the smile on your face is firm in its place.

“I am not being silly; this is a man deep in love if I have ever seen one. A very jealous one at that.” He insists.

You look over to Sihtric who looks about ready to murder the entire settlement by himself. Quickly and to not raise suspicion, you turn back away from him, but barely get enough time to open your mouth to say something to your new friend, when someone taps you on the shoulder.

“We need to talk.” Sihtric began. The words not a question, but a statement. “Now.”

“Are you feeling well Sihtric? You are quite red in the face.” You noted the state he was in. Breath heaving his chest, fists clenched and a red tint colouring his face.

“Yes, I have never been better. I need to talk to you.” He insists.

“What is this about? You have been behaving so differently ever since we arrived here.” You question the dark-haired man as the two of you enter the empty stables nearby.

“Do you seriously have to ask why?” His answer is more affected and rawer than you would´ve thought it would be, making your heart skip a beat in surprise.

“Would you please just explain it to me?” You ask this time with more insistence.

For a moment there is silence between the two of you while Sihtric is struggling to find the right words.

However, the moment concludes with not a verbal answer, but his rough hands cupping your face and as your eyes widen and your heartbeat accelerates, he pulls you in to press his lips to yours. Expressing every feeling he harbours for you with the touch. It takes a moment to process what is happening, moving you to pull away from him.

“The depth of the affections I have felt for you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you is too far to ever be accurately put into words. Out of respect of your lack of interest in romantic relationships I swore myself to stay away, but seeing you fully lean into the pretty words those men poured into your ear like honey, drives me wild. Tell me, what changed so suddenly?” Sihtric's words are raw with emotion. So much that it would have stunned you, where you a different person.

“Sihtric, you would not have to ask this if you heard the way any of Uhtred’s men talked about women? Even the women who fought along them? We are nothing more than objects in the end. Here I am recognized for the qualities I have, not the ones that men wish I would have. Besides, it got me a ton of information we otherwise might not have gotten at all.” You doubt your words will make much of a change, yet Sihtric seems to always be good for a surprise.

He pulls you close once more, the hold on your body is gentle enough for you to pull away should you wish to, but still firm enough to show his intention.

“If you allow me, I will prove to you that I am not like them.” He whispers against your lips, waiting for a sign of your consent.

Which follows in the form of a nod and a whispered “Yes.”

In the blink of an eye his lips crash onto yours again in what this time is a reciprocated kiss. Your lips move together in perfect synchronisation. Languid movements speak the depth of your affections for each other into the world. Your hands move to wander over his strong upper arms, feeling the muscles tense underneath. All the while the dark-haired man pushes you backwards to lay against the stack of hay, never once breaking the sweet, yet passionate kiss.

Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage, warm breath huffing against his face like his does yours.

“I have dreamt of this forever.” Sihtric muttered.

His hands are all over you. Caressing you with the most reverend touches anyone has ever graced you with, making your heart beat out of your chest as the two of you begin to undress each other slowly. Hands moving over ever inch of skin as it gets exposed. Everything about this moment steals the words and thoughts right from your brain. In truth you had been feeling much the same for him, yet you had never seen a chance for the two of you to be together like this.

“You are a goddess.” Sihtric´s quiet voice in your ear pulls you from the attempt at coherent thought.

His surprisingly soft lips ghost over the shell of your ear, but the tingling is soon overshadowed by his hard length running through your folds to tease before positioning himself at your entrance. With slow, deliberate movements he pushes inside of your tight hole, setting a steady pace. Even the dull feeling of fullness only aids in the conveying of the affection the two of you have for each other. This isn't senseless humping. With expert moves Sihtric brings you closer to climax.

A string of desperate “I love you”´s falls from your lips uncontrollably, like a prayer, voice raw from whining and moaning.

Each one is answered by Sihtric calmingly shushing you as one of his hands caressed your forehead, eventually settling to rest against your cheek.

Your eyes move up to meet his and Sihtric bows his head to lean his forehead against yours.

“I have always loved you.” He mutters breathily.

His lips capture yours to muffle the louder growing whines and whimpers and with steady, deliberate, perfect rolls of his hips, you are made to feel the waves of pleasure crash over you. Your legs tighten behind his back to pull him close as your hips shake and walls flutter until he follows off the edge. Shooting his seed into your cunt until he has no more to give.

The two of you remain there until you hear voices filing out of the hall, basking in the afterglow of your love making and each other’s presence now that the tension had been dissolved. You were aware that there were still things to talk about probably, but now was not the time.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric kjartansson x you #the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic

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idkyetxoxo · 2 days

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One | Allure | The Last Kingdom

"Are you dead?"

"No, but you wish I was, don't you?"

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

The day of my birth was shrouded in suffocating air, the night darker than the deepest abyss, devoid of stars but illuminated by an entrancing full moon.

In the arms of my father, the great Earl Ragnar, I took my first breath. His eyes, ablaze with paternal pride, reflected a sense of fulfilment as he cradled his final child, his youngest daughter.

While the world labelled me with epithets of darkness and irresistible allure, my father saw only the radiance of his beloved daughter, the beacon of light amidst the shadows. Despite the whispers of others and the ominous aura that seemed to cling to me, my father's unwavering love shielded me from the darkness that sought to define me.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

I rode alongside my brother Uhtred and the men sworn to him. Osferth, the young monk who joined our group recently, exuded a gentle warmth that seemed out of place amidst the harsh realities of our world.

Finan, bound to my brother after surviving the horrors of the slave ship, was a constant reminder of resilience and loyalty.

Sihtric, however, was a different story. Our first encounter ended in violence, a dagger buried deep in my leg, leaving behind a bitter resentment that simmered beneath the surface. Our relationship was strained, to say the least, defined by a mutual hatred that lingered like a shadow between us.

As we arrived in Alton, greeted by the sight of the devastated village, my attempt at levity fell flat amidst the grim reality before us "How fun" I said. Uhtred's scolding glance and Finan's chuckle only served to underscore the gravity of the situation.

"Rest your dark little mind," Sihtric remarked, his words dripping with sarcasm as I dismounted from my horse, ready to face the aftermath of destruction.

"You're next," I retorted, pointing towards a fallen man nearby and then at Sihtric, the weight of our mission pressed down upon us as we discussed our plan of action. Osferth approached the group of Danes, leaving me to murmur to Finan in frustration.

"What the hell is he saying?" I grumbled, only to be met with Finan's hand covering my mouth, a futile attempt to silence my impatience.

"Yeah, most, some of you might run away, hopefully. I've got.. I've got a sword. A very sharp sword but I'd prefer it if you surrendered." Osferth declared, and now I was grateful for Finan's hand over my mouth, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape.

"Be quiet, will you," Finan murmured, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation as I responded with a playful lick of his palm, earning a grimace from him.

The chaos unfolded swiftly, the clash of swords and screams echoing through the air as the Danes fell before us. After the carnage, a figure emerged from the shadows of the church, a human heart clutched in her hand. Skade, the sorceress, exuded a chilling aura that sent shivers down everyone's spine, everyone except me of course.

The confrontation between my brother and the sorceress unfolded like a sinister dance, each step fraught with tension and menace. Their words clashed like swords in the dimly lit church, echoes of power and defiance reverberating off the stone walls.

"You now belong to me, and your spirit is mine to torment," Skade's voice dripped with malice, her words a chilling reminder of the dark forces at play. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her theatrics, the veiled threats failing to evoke the fear she intended.

As Uhtred issued orders for Skade's restraint, I watched with a mixture of disdain and resignation. Her bindings served as a physical reminder of the danger she posed, a manifestation of the darkness that lurked within her soul.

"Brother, are you scared?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. His knowing glance spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgement of the peril that surrounded us.

"Not when I have my own little devil," Uhtred's words brushed against my ear, his nuzzle against my hair a gesture of reassurance. I couldn't help but groan at his jest.

Upon our return to Aescengum, Skade in tow as our prisoner, we regrouped with Alfred, Edward, Beocca, Aethelwold, and Steapa. To our surprise, Alfred expressed a desire to delay the impending battle. He wished to confront Skade himself, to see the witch who had wrought such havoc with his own eyes.

Uhtred escorted Alfred to see Skade, leaving the rest of us to wait in anticipation. "What, they're alone?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as I glanced back in the direction Uhtred had just walked from.

"Alfred wishes to hump the witch," Finan chuckled, his laughter infectious as I couldn't help but join in.

"What an unexpected turn of events," I remarked, sliding my arm around Finan's waist as he reciprocated by wrapping his arm around mine. "I don't blame him. I've always wanted to know what it would feel like to hump a witch," Finan quipped, eliciting a playful scrunched-up face from me.

"Maybe the one they call the devil will have to do," he added with a mischievous grin, prompting a gasp of feigned shock from me.

Before we could revel in our banter any further, Uhtred appeared behind us in a moment, his expression stern and unwavering. "Unhand my sister right now before I make sure you aren't able to hump another woman again," he warned, his tone laced with a hint of threat.

Finan, ever the jester, removed his hands and held them up in surrender as I pouted in mock indignation. "You can't blame a man for trying," he retorted, his tone light despite Uhtred's admonishment.

"I can and I will," Uhtred declared firmly, leaving me to sigh dramatically as the tension between us dissipated into laughter once more.

The night stretched on, devoid of sleep, as Skade's relentless cries pierced the darkness. Her ceaseless pleas for freedom echoed through the fortress, a reminder of the danger she posed.

"Someone shut her up before I do it myself," I grumbled, frustration seeping into every word as I pressed my hands against my ears, desperate to drown out the cacophony of her voice.

"Her screeching is deafening," Finan added, his head buried in his hands as he struggled to find respite from the relentless noise.

"Hah, she sounds like you then," Sihtric remarked, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his lips as he pointed a finger in my direction. In response, I grabbed a fur and hurled it at him, the gesture a futile attempt to silence him.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the eerie silence of the fortress was shattered by the arrival of the witch's keeper at the gates. This time, however, he brought with him not just a message, but hostages, women, innocent victims caught in the tangled web of malevolence.

"Fucking coward," I muttered through clenched teeth as Bloodhair callously slit a woman's throat before our very eyes, his demands ringing out like a twisted melody of despair. Two more lives were snuffed out in an instant, their blood staining the earth as a grim testament to the cruelty that permeated our world.

Uhtred emerged from the fortress, Skade in tow, the air thick with tension as he made a show of punching and kicking her before the assembled crowd. Skade's twisted encouragement to Bloodhair hung in the air like a poisonous fog, her words dripping with malice and venom.

With a steely resolve, Uhtred issued his ultimatum to Bloodhair, his voice cutting through the chaos with a chilling clarity. He had until sunset or each man in their fortress would take their turn with Skade. The fate of the hostages hung in the balance, their lives dependent on the whims of a man driven by madness and greed.

Bloodhair's gaze ascended to the fortress, and our eyes locked for a fleeting instant. The smirk that danced upon his lips as his eyes roved over my form prompted a roll of my eyes, he was too cocky for my liking.

"How exciting for you, Finan. You might get to hump a witch after all," I remarked, my voice tinged with sarcasm as I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Finan's light push away from me was met with a half-hearted shrug and a small smile.

"Heard the little devil here likes taking control, even uses her daggers when the mood strikes" Sihtric's voice oozed with a sly tone as he emerged from behind us, his smirk palpable.

Both Finan and I swiveled to confront his smug expression. "Is that so," Finan chimed in, his grin widening mischievously.

I seized the opportunity to turn the tables on Sihtric. "Why have you been questioning what I'm like in bed?" I interjected, my tone dripping with amusement as I watched his smirk falter into contemplation, a pleasing moment of triumph.

"I suppose that's the closest you'll come to satisfaction, given I wouldn't entertain your touch even in dire circumstances," I added, a smirk playing on my lips as I casually turned my head to the side, anticipating his response.

"Come on, Irishman, let's leave this rat to his fantasies," I declared, my voice laced with amusement as I beckoned to Finan. He burst into raucous laughter, effortlessly falling into step beside me as we sauntered away, leaving Sihtric in our wake, visibly flustered.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

The Battle of Fearnham unfolded like a meticulously orchestrated play, each move calculated, each action deliberate. From the moment the clash of steel echoed across the battlefield, victory seemed within our grasp. Bloodhair, once a fearsome opponent, revealed himself to be nothing more than a coward, fleeing at the first sign of adversity. The satisfaction that filled me as I watched him ride away, his retreating form a symbol of his defeat, was indescribable.

Collapsed on the ground, my body heaving with exertion, I clutched my dagger tightly in my hand. Bloodied and bruised, every fibre of my being screamed with exhaustion, yet I was alive. A voice broke through the haze of fatigue, kicking me lightly as I groaned, turning to meet Sihtric's gaze "Are you dead?" he asked.

He looked down at me with those same bright, two-coloured eyes, a glimmer of amusement dancing within their depths. Despite my hatred for him, I couldn't deny the undeniable allure of his rugged features. It was as though the gods themselves had sculpted him from the very essence of masculinity.

"No, but you wish I was, don't you?" I retorted, the words dripping with sarcasm as I met his gaze head-on. Sihtric feigned contemplation for a moment before nodding, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

In a swift motion, I kicked his legs out from under him, a fleeting moment of triumph before I scrambled to my feet and fled, his angry protests fading into the distance as I disappeared into the field.

The journey back to Winchester started light-hearted and jovial, but the mood quickly soured as Skade's incessant chatter grated on my nerves. "Shut your trap woman, I'm tired of your screeching," I erupted, unable to tolerate another moment of her relentless talking, yet she remained unfazed by my outburst.

Upon our return to Winchester, Hild awaited our arrival, her sombre expression signalling that something was amiss. Uhtred's crestfallen face confirmed my worst fears as Hild delivered the devastating news.

Gisela, beloved by Uhtred and cherished by all who knew her, had succumbed to childbirth. Even in death, she had given Uhtred another son, but the joy of new life was overshadowed by the weight of our collective grief. Days had passed since her burial.

My heart sank as I turned to face the others. The smirk on Skade's face, a cruel mockery of our anguish not gone unnoticed by me fueled the flames of my rage until I could bear it no longer.

Without hesitation, I lunged at Skade, my fury propelling me forward as I delivered a stinging blow across her face. Sihtric's swift intervention prevented me from inflicting further harm, his grasp firm as he pulled me back from the brink of violence.

"You little bitch," I muttered through clenched teeth, tears threatened to fall down my face but I remained composed, she wasn't going to get the satisfaction of seeing me upset. I pushed Sihtric away and stormed off in the direction of Uhtred.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

"Are you alright?" Sihtric's voice, tinged with concern, reached me from behind, his gaze fixed on the night sky above. "I don't have the energy for you right now, leave," I replied curtly, my words laced with a rawness born of grief and sorrow, before retreating into the darkness.

That night, as Uhtred mourned by his wife's grave, I found solace in comforting my niece and nephews, their innocent presence a balm for the constant ache in my heart.

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

an enemies to lovers slow burn 🤭 ALSO had to be season 3 sihtric because like have you seen him???

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bhxrdy · 4 months

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the last kingdom, S04E10 | osferth, finan & sihtric

#tlk #the last kingdom #osferth #finan #sihtric #edit #starlesskat #tuserliliana #tuserella #userchelsea #tuseraud #userbritney #userzo #userbeatrice #usercelia #usereva #usernae #userfrancesca

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destinyisall-tlk · 2 months

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the last kingdom + alignment chart (insp)

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valeskafics · 5 months

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"Blood Of My Blood" - Sihtric Kjartansson x Targaryen!Reader

a/n: based on a request from @foxyanon combined with one from @the-shadow-queen02 🩷

Summary: When a simple stableboy from Winterfell saved your life during the Long Night, you learned what love truly is.

Word Count: 4,500

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, character death, spoilers for asoiaf/game of thrones, violence, fingering, oral f receiving, handjob, p in v sex, breeding kink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Last Kingdom characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You are not a queen the first time Sihtric meets you. And yet you carry yourself with all the dignity of one. He watches with awe-struck eyes as your dragon circles the skies above Winterfell, your hair flying in the breeze. You land soon after Daenerys, and though your dragon may be smaller than hers, Sihtric finds it no less impressive. You are the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, to the point he has to stop and wonder if you are even real. You slide down the wing of your dragon with such grace, landing easily on your feet. He watches as you look to Daenerys for guidance, wondering what you are supposed to do in this strange new place. She urges you to go and mingle with the people. And so, you approach the first person you see.

Sihtric.

You smile at him, “Erm, hello…”

Sihtric immediately bows, his heart pounding in his chest. He cannot believe his good luck that you chose him to speak to first upon your arrival North. He feels like a lovestruck child as he gazes at you, the cold Winterfell air mussing your hair. Your lilac eyes are unlike anything he has ever seen and he is completely enchanted. It is as though he is drowning in your presence. He clears his throat and tries to hide his nervousness.

“Princess.”

“You,” you shake your head, urging him to stand, “You needn’t do all that. The bowing and all. My aunt is the queen. Not me.”

He blushes, standing up straight, “My apologies, lady. I simply wanted to show you my respect.”

Sihtric averts his gaze, unable to meet your own for too long. It feels like staring into the sun, that he as a mere man should not be granted such a great privilege. He leans back against the stable, trying to act casual, but his eyes are continuously drawn to your lips as he wonders how they might feel against his own.

“I appreciate it, but it truly isn’t necessary.” Your smile is polite and your voice soothing and gentle as you ask, “What is your name, my lord?”

He feels flustered at you taking an interest in him, a baseborn stableboy, and he wonders if you will treat him any differently when you learn who he truly is. For some reason, he does not think you will.

Sihtric bites the inside of his cheek before muttering, “I am no lord, lady. My name is Sihtric.”

“Sihtric,” you repeat, his name sounding more beautiful on your lips than he has ever heard in his life, “Jon Snow speaks of you often.”

Sihtric looks at you, surprised that his old friend made king has been talking about him, but he feels pride as well, “Jon- Er, I mean His Grace spoke of me?”

You nod, “He says you grew up together here in Winterfell. But that while he took the Black, you remained at Winterfell and worked as a stable boy. And then you rode with his brother, the Young Wolf, yes?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Sihtric is feeling dizzy with excitement at the thought of a beautiful princess like you taking any interest in him. He is overwhelmed and also a bit proud. You seem a bit hesitant before finally speaking.

“Aunt Dany once hoped to forge an alliance with the Young Wolf by betrothing me to him,” you muse quietly, “Everyone who has met him speaks so fondly of him. But he is with the Stranger now. And I am here.”

Sihtric’s smile is gentle as he speaks, “He would have made a great husband, Princess. The Stranger gained a fine warrior that awful day at the Twins.”

As though sensing the pain behind his words, you take his hand in yours, taking him by surprise once again, “I… I wanted to give my sincerest condolences for your loss. Osferth, the septon-in-training. I met him one moon past, when we went Beyond the Wall to gather proof of the Others’ existence. In the process of saving my life, the Stranger claimed him before his time. He was a good man. I am sure he and the Young Wolf feast in the halls of the Seven Heavens together.”

Sihtric feels as though he cannot breathe, thinking of what he has lost but also of the way you are looking at him right now, with those beautiful, kind eyes, that sweet smile, “You are right, lady. You are wise beyond your years.” He pauses as you turn to stroke your dragon’s emerald scales, gazing up at the massive beast in admiration, “What is his name?”

“Rhaegal,” you say softly, “Named for my father. Aunt Dany’s brother.”

“A fitting name,” Sihtric comments, “Your father was a great man.”

You shake your head, sighing slightly, “You needn’t lie. Everyone says Rhaegar Targaryen was the cause of all the discord in the realm. That Robert the Usurper killed him without any great effort. That my father was no true warrior.”

Sihtric sees the pain in your eyes as you speak of your father and wants nothing more than to comfort you, “Roberet’s hammer may have killed your father, but his legend lives on. His heart may have been more for singing and reading than fighting, but he was no craven. And your lady mother died protecting you, sneaking you out of the castle away from the Lannisters. Neither your mother nor father were craven.” He sees the tears pooling in your eyes and speaks sincerely, “I am sorry for your loss, Princess.”

“It is alright,” you assure him, “I hardly knew them. I only know the stories. My father, my mother, my little brother and sister… All I have are stories. Aunt Dany and Uncle Viserys were the only family I knew after we fled to Essos.” You quickly change the subject, glancing at the Stark family banners that fly from the ramparts, “It must be nice seeing the direwolf fly after it having been the flayed man for so long. Were you here while Ramsay Bolton ruled?”

He nods, “I was, lady. It was terrible. It is good to see the Stark banners once more. I only wish Robb and Rickon were here to see them.”

You smile at him kindly before Daenerys calls you back to her side. You roll your eyes, turning to Sihtric.

“Apparently I am being summoned by Her Majesty. It was lovely meeting you, Sihtric.”

Sihtric stares after you as you walk away, saddened that your meeting has so abruptly come to an end. He feels like a fool for it, but his heart aches at your absence.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Princess…”

Battle plans are laid that evening and Sihtric watches with no little degree of jealousy as Gendry Waters and Podrick Payne flit about you like annoying little gnats. He purses his lips with displeasure, ignoring Jon and Theon’s knowing grins. They have always been able to read him so well. Even Sansa and Arya seem to be biting back their giggles at his expression. He listens with bated breath as you suggest taking to the skies with Rhaegal to help Daenerys, but she refuses, stating that she wishes for you to stay safe on the ground. He watches as you stare at her, defiance in your eyes as you say that you will not be kept from the fight. Daenerys sighs, turning to Sihtric and asking if he will watch out for you.

“Aunt Dany, that is wholly unnecessary-”

Daenerys cuts you off with a sharp glare before turning to Sihtric, who nods resolutely, “Yes, Your Grace. I will protect the princess with my life.”

He vows he will hold you close and keep you safe, no matter the cost to him. He would die a thousand deaths if it meant keeping you safe, set himself on fire if it meant keeping you warm.

What feels like moments later, the two of you wait on the ramparts, blades in hand, keeping your eyes peeled for the arrival of the wights. Sihtric sees you shiver slightly, immediately removing his furs to place them on your shoulders.

“You don’t need to-”

“You’re shivering,” he cuts you off, “Let me protect you. It is my honor and my duty, lady.”

Sihtric leans in close to you, wrapping an arm around you to give you his warmth, smiling to himself as you lean into his embrace. All is silent save for the wind and the distant sounds of Drogon and Rhaegal’s mighty roars. After a few moments, you turn to Sihtric, whispering his name so softly that he thinks he may have imagined the noise. He turns to you with a faint smile, butterflies in his stomach at the way you gaze up at him.

“There’s a very good chance we could all die tonight. And I don’t want to die without ever having kissed a man.”

Sihtric’s cheeks flush a bright red at your words. You couldn’t possibly want to kiss him. A bastard boy. But with the way you’re looking at him, nothing but affection in your gaze, he realizes that is exactly what you want.

“If that is what you wish for, my princess…”

The trumpet horn sounds, signaling the arrival of the White Walkers, and so you quickly pull Sihtric into a short but passionate kiss, your lips soft and sweet against his own before pulling back. Both of you draw your blades and prepare to fight in the Long Night. And you do so valiantly, slaying wight after wight, each of them tasting the steel of your blade. As the night draws on, however, both of you begin to tire, the fatigue of war wearing you down. Sihtric hears you scream for help, seeing that two wights have you backed against the wall, hands reaching toward your throat. Sihtric dispatches them with ease, though a new horde soon descends upon you.

He pushes you behind his back, snarling as he readies his final assault. The Others may take you both, but he swears he will make them earn it. But just as they approach? He sees the glorious sight of dragonfire raining down upon them. The two of you glance at each other as wight after wight falls to the ground, burning and writhing in agony.

“Rhaegal,” you whisper, a smile on your face, “He could sense I needed him…” Sihtric is taken by surprise when you grab his hand, running toward your dragon. You climb atop his back, extending a hand to your companion, “Come on then!”

Sihtric is stunned, but does as you ask, the two of you taking to the skies, burning all the wights you can see. He sees Tormund Giantsbane, Ser Jaime, Brienne of Tarth… He sees them all fighting valiantly, you coming to their rescue. The wind whips against his face as the two of you fly above Winterfell, his heart pounding with excitement as he holds tight to your waist, his face buried in your hair. And every time you say the word “Dracarys”, he is amazed by you, captivated once again. He is proud of you, of your dragon, of being able to serve you.

He thinks to himself that you are, perhaps, the Princess That Was Promised, with how you have flown fearlessly into battle and saved Winterfell from ruin.

Sihtric does not see you until the night before you march on King’s Landing. You are in your aunt’s tent, pleading with her, your voice desperate as you call for diplomacy rather than war, that the people who will be harmed in the process of her plan are the very ones she seeks to liberate. But your aunt does not seem to be of the mind to listen to you, too angered by all that has been done to her, to your family. You let out a cry of frustration as she leaves, falling to your knees. Sihtric rushes to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Princess…”

You turn to face him, eyes going wide, still feeling a bit shy after the kiss you two shared before the battle’s commencement back in Winterfell, “Sihtric…” You avert your gaze and sigh, “I was just… It doesn’t matter. She’ll never listen.”

Sihtric feels that same nervous energy, asking you gently, “What were you doing, my lady? It matters to me.”

You are quiet for a long moment before you speak, your voice solemn, “I do not think after the gods granted us such a great victory over the Others that we should march into another war. The people of King’s Landing are the ones who will suffer the most should open confrontation arise.”

“I agree with you,” he murmurs, nodding in agreement, “You are wise, lady. Wiser than most.”

“She has ignored Jon’s words, and Lord Tyrion’s,” you say, biting your lip nervously, “I’d hoped she’d listen to me. But she will not.” You meet Sihtric’s gaze and lower your voice, leaning in close so that no one else hears you, “I have had dreams since I was a girl. Dreams that often come true. And I saw…” You swallow thickly, tears in your eyes, “I saw myself sitting atop Rhaegal, some great weapon shooting us down into Blackwater Bay. Aunt Dany doesn’t believe me but I know it to be a vision. Just like the one I saw of Viserys. Of Khal Drogo…”

“She wishes you to fly beside her,” Sihtric realizes, “Lady, you must not. I will not let you ride to your death.”

“I must go against my aunt and follow my instincts. I need your help once more,” you take his hands in your own, gazing up at him, pleading, “It will be treason, Sihtric. But I beg you to help me.”

He immediately nods, “My sword is yours, my body is yours, my life is yours.”

Were he more bold, he might have confessed his heart and soul are yours too.

Sihtric distracts Grey Worm while you go to Rhaegal, your voice a hushed whisper as you give him the command to go to Dragonstone until you come for him. He lets out a quiet rumble of protest, staring at you with those eyes that, at times, feel all too human. Rhaegal bows his head before flapping his mighty wings, taking to the skies and flying toward Dragonstone. He flies higher and higher until he is nothing but a speck, disappearing into the night sky. You whisper a prayer under your breath before finding Sihtric again, resting your hand on his arm, nodding that the task has been done.

Grey Worm eyes the two of you with thinly veiled suspicion and you lead Sihtric to your tent, standing outside on the eve of battle.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, gazing up at him through your lashes, your gaze holding him captive, “For everything you have done for me.”

Your lips brush against his cheek and a rush of warmth floods Sihtric’s body, his stomach tied in knots as he replies, voice trembling, “You need not thank me, lady. It is my duty and my honor.”

The two of you gaze at each other, lips nearly touching, the memory of your last kiss prevalent in your minds. You lean in, ever so slightly, and Sihtric’s body tingles with anticipation. He meets your gaze and closes the gaps between your lips, brushing them against yours in a chaste kiss, one that says all the words that he cannot. His heart swells as your arms wrap around his neck, his hands going to your waist. It is a tender kiss, chaste even. Magical.

When you pull apart, you gaze up at him, speaking quietly, “Stay safe tomorrow. Stay near Jon. I have no idea what Cersei nor my aunt have planned, but I know it isn’t anything good.”

“I will,” he promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently, “I will stay at Jon’s side. Promise me you will stay safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You rest your hand on his cheek and nod, “I will try. Do not think of me tomorrow. Think of staying alive so we may see each other again. Focus only on that.”

Sihtric and you kiss just once more before you disappear into your tent, smiling at him one last time.

King’s Landing lies in ruins and Sihtric finds you, among the rubble and ash. Jon urges him to go to you, wanting to do a sweep of the city for survivors. Sihtric helps you to your feet, both of you coughing from the amount of smoke in your lungs. You say his name softly, and he embraces you.

“My princess.”

You look around, tears falling down your face as you whisper, “How could Aunt Dany do this? So many innocent people… Women and children…”

The city is devastated, Sihtric thinks, barely any having survived the wrath of Queen Daenerys and her dragonfire. A rush of sadness fills him and he takes your hand, hoping to comfort you. When you squeeze it, he feels content in knowing he has managed to do something for you.

“We defeated Cersei…” You trail off before murmuring, “But at what cost?”

Sihtric embraces you once more, tucking you under his chin, promising everything will be alright. Even though both of you know it will not.

It doesn’t surprise you when you get word that Jon has killed your aunt. What she did was wrong, but so too was Jon taking justice in his own hands. Upon receiving word, you collapse into Sihtric’s arms, sobbing.

“I… I know what she did was wrong, but it still hurts…”

“I know, Princess,” he says, stroking your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sob into his chest, “I have no one left now. No family. Nothing.”

“You have me,” Sihtric promises, “You will always have me. Whatever happens, whatever you need, I will always be here for you. To protect you. Always.”

When the council is held to determine the fates of both Lord Tyrion and Jon, you are taken by surprise when none other than Sansa Stark nominates you to be the Protector of the Realm. Your eyes go wide with shock as you ask her to repeat herself.

“It makes sense,” Robin Arryn agrees, “She is the rightful heir. The last remaining child of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia. The last of the Targaryens and Martells.”

Sihtric watches the meeting with excitement. Are you about to be crowned as queen? You voice the fact that you are not Daenerys, you were not raised for this. And Sansa just smiles at you, telling you that is why you will make the perfect queen. All the nobility present vote in your favor and Sihtric watches with pride as you accept the heavy burden of the crown, knowing that you will be a just and true leader. He smiles at you encouragingly as you step forward and allow it to be placed on your head, looking around the table in shock.

He finds you that evening, walking in the Kingswood, dressed in your finest clothes, that golden crown still atop your head. He approaches you quietly, quickly bowing to show his respect.

“What did I tell you about bowing to me?” Your smile is playful as you face him, “Sihtric… I want my first act as queen to be legitimizing you. I have signed the decree already. You are now Sihtric Kjartansson, Lord of Dunholm.”

Sihtric stares at you, speechless, lips parted in shock, “My queen…”

You take his arm, the two of you walking in the moonlight, his heart swelling with joy as you meander through the woods.

“I have been told that I will need to marry soon,” you remark, “To secure the alliance of one of the regions.”

Sihtric stiffens slightly. He had hoped this day would not come, and now here it is before him. His heart sinks, your words weighing heavily on his mind. He looks at you, the air between you thick with tension, and nods slowly.

“That is true, Your Grace. Now that you wear the crown, it will be expected.”

A wave of sadness washes over him, your romance ending before it had even truly begun as you state, “Several names have been suggested. Gendry Baratheon. Robin Arryn. Bran Stark. What are your thoughts?”

Sihtric’s mind races, his voice wavering ever so slightly, “They are all worthy suitors. They would make suitable consorts and husbands.”

He can barely get the words out. The thought of you being married to someone other than him is too much to bear. And then? You look at him and smile, that sweet smile of yours as you speak.

“And what of you? The lord of the second most important keep in the North. Surely you will be expected to wed soon.”

Sihtric’s heart skips a beat as he realizes that you are right. He is a lord now and will be expected to marry soon. But the thought of marrying anyone other than you feels so wrong. He can’t imagine anyone other than you as his wife.

“My queen,” he says, voice raw with emotion, “It can wait. I am content here. Serving you.”

You pause and face him, resting a hand on his cheek when you notice the tears in his eyes. You smile at him, meeting his gaze.

“You misunderstand. I mean that you are supposed to wed. I am supposed to wed…”

You trail off, a playful glimmer in your eyes. Sihtric’s jaw drops. Could you really mean it? He drops to his knees immediately, gazing up at you as he asks those four words that you so long to hear.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod, throwing your arms around him, nearly tackling him to the ground with the force of your affection. Sihtric laughs, his arms moving to wrap around your waist as he kisses you back, whispering words of love in your ear, his entire body trembling with love for you. You declare that the two of you will take Drogon and go to Dragonstone immediately, that you will wed there in the sight of the gods of Old Valyria, and upon your return to King’s Landing, you two will be married in the sight of the Seven.

When you walk to Sihtric, on the cliffs of Dragonstone, dressed in the Valyrian robes you and Daenerys had procured so long ago, you take his breath away. The two of you exchange your vows then and there. He cuts your lip with a shard of dragonglass and you do the same to him, kissing him allowing your blood to mix and become one. He gazes at you, amazed as the two of you pull away, lips stained red.

“The Dothraki have a saying. ‘Blood of my blood’. It refers to a khal and his blood riders,” you whisper, his hands holding yours, “I think it fits us too. You are my blood now and I am yours. The only blood the other has.”

He nods, resting his forehead against yours, “We are each other’s family. We will only ever need each other.”

Drogon and Rhaegal circle the skies above the two of you, as if blessing your union. Sihtric and you go down to the beach and he lays you down on the sand, his body warm and comforting against yours. You pull him in for a heated kiss, hands wrapping in his hair as he makes quick work of both of your robes. You smile up at him softly.

“Your eyes are two different colors. I noticed the first time we met. They are so beautiful.”

He gives you a quick peck on the nose before moving his lips back to capture your own until the two of you are completely bare before each other. You eye his cock with a hint of trepidation and more than a hint of interest, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. You recall something Aunt Dany told you long ago and spit in your hand before you slow start stroking his length, watching the way he throws his head back, moaning your name as you move your hand along his cock. Sihtric’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and his face flushes, looking so beautiful, so needy for you. But he moves your hand away before he reaches his peak.

“I want to spill my seed inside you,” he whispers against your skin, lips trailing down your jaw to your breasts, down to your stomach, “To watch you swell with my babe. The next king or queen. Our own little family.”

You nod eagerly, letting out a yelp of surprise as he laps at your folds eagerly, your hands flying to his hair as you roll your hips against his mouth. It feels so strange and foreign, especially when he moves to focus on your sensitive pearl, slowly pumping one finger in and out of you, as if to prepare you for his cock before adding a second finger, and finally a third, filling you up perfectly. His fingertips brush against that rough patch deep inside you that has your back arching up off the sand as you cry his name over and over until you finally spill yourself on his tongue.

Sihtric’s eyes remain locked on yours as he joins your bodies, pushing himself inside you slowly, taking care not to cause you any discomfort, staying still for a long moment, content to pepper kisses all over your face and gaze into your eyes. And when you nod, signaling to him that you are ready, he moves his body against yours seamlessly, hips rutting against yours, the fat head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you. His hands grip yours, holding them above your head as the two of you kiss, bodies entwined on the beach. He pounds into you, pistoning his hips against yours at a breakneck pace, getting closer and closer to his peak, feeling your walls flutter and tighten around him so perfectly until you let out a mewl of his name, soaking his cock. His own end follows soon after and he spills his seed deep inside you, a bright smile on his face at the fact that after tonight, you may be with child. His child.

Sihtric vows then and there on that beach that he will always protect you, the little family the two of you will create.

You are everything to him, his love, his lady, his queen, his entire world. And he? He is your lord, your prince consort, your everything. The two of you somehow found each other amidst all the sadness and tragedy in the realm.

And now that he finally has you, Sihtric has no intention of ever letting you depart from his side.

You, the blood of his blood.

#sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson x you #sihtric x y/n #sihtric kjartansson x y/n #sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric the last kingdom #sihtric fic #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fanfiction #sihtric tlk #my writing #tlk x asoiaf crossover #sihtric oneshot #targaryen!reader

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happilyhertale · 1 year

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

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

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

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

Word count: 2.2 k

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

Other stories of mine

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

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

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

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

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

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

Osferth continues to nod in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grin at him and join him in a toast.

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

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

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

He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.

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

Finan's expression darkens.

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

"What would she miss?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.

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

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

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

He stands up and goes outside to pee.

Now you shake your head and stand up.

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

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

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

Finan gives him a warning look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile at him.

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

You grin at him, "I never have Finan"

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Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel

#osferth #osferth x y/n #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth smut #osferth tlk #baby monk #the last kingdom #seven kings must die #osferth imagine #osferth the last kingdom #osferth fanfic #uhtred of bebbanburg #finan tlk #sihtric #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #ettore #tom bennett

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hapireads · 10 months

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ewan mitchell as osferth the baby monk in the last kingdom (3.7)

#ewan mitchell #osferth #baby monk #the last kingdom #tlk #tlk season 3 #uhtred #sihtric #finan #little weeble wobble i wanna eat him #hapireadsgifs

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mojogifs · 6 months

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The Last Kingdom | Season 5

#the last kingdom #baby monk #sihtric kjartansson #finan the agile #aethelstan #ingrith #tlk season 5 #osferth #sihtric #finan #tlk #ewan mitchell #arnas fedaravicius #mark rowley #harry gilby #ilona chevakova #mojogifs

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whitedarkmoonflower · 2 days

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Some semi unhinged ones for today 😉

Comment or write to me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @thenameswinter99 @alexagirlie @synintheraven @angelvoxx @gemini-mama @the-irish-girl @tinumiel @willowbrookesblog @hb8301 @verenahx @fox-bright @elwegencyn @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @zaldritzosrose @ladyinred2248

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #arnas fedaravicius #arnas fedaravičius #the last kingdom #sihtric memes #my memes

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 day

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A Danish Werewolf in The City

Born under an October Blood Moon, Sihtric was a true alpha, having earned his status by sheer strength and will. And those wolves who are born under the Blood Moon are believed to be the most dangerous of them all.

Sihtric stared down at you, with parts of ripped clothes dangling from his black fur, thick strings of drool dripping out from his parted lips while a low growl began to sound from the back of his throat.

It was a frightening sight; those big hairy and pointy ears twitching at sounds you couldn't even hear, and his long whiskers moving along with his glistening nose as he inhaled your scent deeply.

More coming soon...

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#sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric au #werewolf fic #werewolf #tlk au #horror fic #horror #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

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ivarthebadbitch · 2 months

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sihtric + osferth in 4x6

(requested by anonymous)

#the last kingdom #sihtric #osferth #gifs

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wheres-mylove · 9 months

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damsel in distress | sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

Summary: Sihtric arrives in Winchester for Aethelflaed’s wedding, and finds a princess for himself by the way - the bride’s younger sister with a feisty temper and an overpowering desire to break Aethelred's nose. But there’s a little more to the story than just that.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 2.9k

The young warrior stared at the ground, not daring to look his lord in the eye. He had warned him. Everyone had.

“She's gone?” Uhtred asked, trying out a sympathetic tone, realizing it was not the time to mock his friend's misplaced feelings.

“Yes, my lord,” Sihtric confirmed quietly. “The silver too, before you question me about it. Gone with her.”

“No woman, no silver,” Uhtred summarized and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just so we're clear, I would have agreed to the marriage. Suffer if you're foolish. But not for too long. You need to find someone decent.”

“We would have named our first son Uhtred, lord,” he said, absentmindedly staring ahead.

“No, you would not,” the older warrior replied, visibly grimacing.

“It doesn't matter now,” Sihtric muttered, earning a comforting pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile from Uhtred.

“Find Finan, we'll meet in the main square.”

Sihtric Kjartansson walked gloomily ahead, pondering why he had such bad luck in life. He took out his anger on a few pebbles scattered on the dusty road. The gods were not too kind when it came to sending him a woman who...

“Sorry, sorry!” He heard a girl's voice behind him and several other irritated grunts or a hushed 'Watch out.' He turned his head slightly and it was a miracle he avoided colliding with a cloaked figure in a visible hurry.

“If you'll excuse me, lord,” the girl quickly spoke, not even bothering to give him a passing glance, squeezing past him and running into a narrow passage between a stable and a nearby dwelling.

Sihtric furrowed his brow and observed the stranger leaning against the wall, anxiously looking towards the main street. With her slightly tilted hood, he was certain she was a young woman, clearly running away from something or someone.

What was he if not a hero?

“My lady,” he began, but faltered at the sight of her angry gaze.

“Are you crazy? Go away,” she snapped, waving her hand at him dismissively. The hood fell back, revealing the girl's face in all its glory.

Sihtric didn't know what to do. The lady was beautiful. But also pissed off.

“God, you idiot,” the girl said with a heavy sigh. Then she grabbed his arm forcefully, pulling him into a dark alley with her and positioning him with his back to the street.

Sihtric still didn't quite understand what was happening. Being pushed around by a mad gorgeous woman was not part of his plans for today. He didn't have any plans at all since the last one ran off with the remnants of his wealth.

“If someone is hiding, they have a reason for it and don't want someone standing in front of them, announcing it to the world,” she scolded him like a disobedient child, and Sihtric felt himself blushing.

“Right. Makes sense. I apologize, my lady,” he stammered, not taking his eyes off her.

She was even more beautiful up close.

“Discreetly look behind you and see if a monk is coming this way,” she instructed him gravely, to which he gave her a half-surprised, half-amused look.

“A monk is leading the chase?”

“Yes, you see, I'm a witch, and I was about to be burned at the stake this afternoon.”

Sihtric chuckled softly, but he complied with her request. He thought the girl was joking, but indeed, a monk was heading their way. Slightly bewildered but definitely annoyed, he was looking around vigilantly.

“Are you really a witch?” Sihtric suddenly asked with a hint of uncertainty.

“I sacrifice boys like you,” she replied without a trace of a smile, but mischievous sparks danced in her eyes. He smirked. “But seriously, you might come in handy. The holy man won't sniff around here for long. Let’s make him look away.”

She threw her arms around his neck, and without hesitation, Sihtric placed his hands on her hips.

Only after a few heartbeats did the absurdity of the situation dawn on him. He stood very close in a dark alley with a girl whose name he didn't know, protecting her from the wrath of a monk.

“But honestly, what about your troubles?” he asked gently.

“Brother Ceolwulf sometimes gives me calligraphy lessons. My father says I scribble rather terribly. I ran away to avoid that pleasure. And apparently, Lord Aethelred is due to arrive soon,” she almost spat the name as if it left a foul taste. “Maybe I'll go see that prick. Quite a commotion over a simple farce.”

“You don't fancy lords from Mercia and royal weddings, my lady?”

The girl didn't answer; instead, she scrutinized Sihtric intently. He felt a wave of embarrassment under the piercing gaze of her sharp eyes.

“And what business does a Dane have here?” she asked after a while, smiling slightly at the sight of his blush. Brother Ceolwulf flashed behind Sihtric, so she tightened her grip and rested her head on his chest. The warrior held his breath. A stream of muffled words reached him. “No, no, you can talk; that rascal is just behind you. You could also use a bath, you know? Great, he went searching on the other side. You could also tell me your name, for the sake of appearances and decency.”

“I'm Sihtric, lady,” he said with a laugh, which (Y/N) not only heard but also felt. “Together with my lord Uhtred, we arrived…”

“Uhtred?” the girl interrupted, raising her head with surprise. “You serve Uhtred?”

“Do you know him?” Sihtric tilted his head, intrigued.

“Oh, I'm in trouble,” she said barely audible, more to herself than to him. “I have to go. I apologize for the assault.”

She took a few steps back before Sihtric panicked. He didn't know her name. He didn't know where to find her. And he definitely wanted to see her again.

“What's your name, lady?” he called after her, but she had already blended into the crowd heading to the main square. He wasn't sure if she had gone to greet Aethelred. Even if she had, he wouldn't find her in that mass.

Brother Ceolwulf came to the same conclusion. The reprimand for the princess of Wessex would have to wait.

The delicate fabric of her blue dress fluttered with each touch of the wind as she gracefully crossed the courtyard. They strolled towards the main hall.

“I only have two options: jump out the window or become a nun,” Princess (Y/N) announced in a calm manner.

“Only jump out the window, my dear,” Father Beocca specified. “Nuns would chase you with crosses and torches in their hands.”

(Y/N) looked at the priest. He had an amused expression. And a soft spot for the princess. According to Alfred's commands, he shouldn't tolerate certain behaviors and opinions. But how dull it would be if he asked her to stifle her carefreeness and restrain her sharp tongue.

“I was just praying a moment ago.”

“Yes, with the intention of our heavenly father making your sister run away from the altar.”

Aethelflaed didn't run away from the altar. She paid no mind to her sister's efforts, who, with sheer willpower, tried to steer her away from it. (Y/N) saw that the bride was enchanted by her groom, and she wanted nothing but all the happiness this world could fit for her. But something in the back of her mind warned her about Aethelred. An unbearable premonition. She blinked a few times, telling herself that she simply didn't consider any man worthy of her dearest sister's hand.

She scanned the gathered guests with her gaze. At the back of the hall, she spotted Uhtred. She nodded at him slightly. He raised an eyebrow with a smile. They had last seen each other when she was a little girl and kicked him in the leg. She wondered if he still limps.

And then she noticed Sihtric.

The warrior paled the moment he saw her standing side by side with the king.

His stranger. The king's daughter. The princess.

Only he could have such damn luck.

“It's her. The girl I told you about. It's her!” He nudged Finan's arm, to which the latter chuckled.

“Sure. Your whole story sounds shady already. Don't involve noble families in it.”

“I'm telling the truth!”

“I believe ya. Yesterday, for example, when little ol’ me was drinking beer with king Alfred…”

Sihtric sighed, but he didn't try to convince his friend anymore. He didn't register the entrance of the bride or a word spoken during the ceremony, and especially not Finan's mocking. His eyes were fixed on the princess in the blue gown. He held his breath when she finally looked at him. She smiled faintly but immediately averted her gaze, with a violent blush on her cheeks.

Sihtric Kjartansson felt his heart beat stronger.

Uhtred embraced the princess with laughter, still wondering how she had transformed so quickly from a snotty child into a breathtaking woman.

Sihtric paid special attention to that breathtaking part, as he was having trouble with that.

“The older you get, the uglier you become. Good to see you, Uhtred,” she greeted him politely. The man snorted and gestured towards his companions.

“Princess (Y/N), these are my friends…”

“Sihtric,” she greeted, bowing her head. He smiled widely, and Finan's jaw dropped, before he realized he should probably bow too. The idiot wasn't lying. Unbelievable.

“Do you know each other?” Uhtred furrowed his brow, looking at the young Dane, then at the princess. “Is there something I don't know?”

“Yes, we've been secret lovers for the past year,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Sihtric's face took on various shades of red, much to Finan's delight.

“You haven't changed at all,” Uhtred commented with a wave of his hand.

“I would be more at ease if this reception wasn't so dull,” she said, wistfully glancing at the cup in Uhtred's hand. “Is he watching?”

Uhtred glanced at the king and nodded. (Y/N) groaned.

“So, after Edward, it's your turn?” Uhtred inquired, earning himself a murderous glance from the princess.

“He'll probably be a twat or at least hundred years old,” she grumbled in disappointment. “Beocca presented me with a list of potential candidates. About each one, he says they are pious, as if I were looking for a personal priest and not a husband. Why can't he say that one of them is kind? Wise? Or handsome.”

She shifted her gaze to Sihtric and smiled mischieviously.

“We only hope to be invited to your wedding, Princess,” Finan laughed, observing his friend's bashful demeanor. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll be no older than ninety-nine.”

“That's kind of you. By the way, Sihtric, did you take that bath-”

“Princess!” Father Beocca called out as he passed by. “Maybe nunnery isn't the worst idea.”

Humorous remarks and a grin froze on her lips when (Y/N) looked into her sister's eyes. The food tray nearly slipped from her hands.

Aethelflaed didn't have to say anything. She didn't have to scream or complain about her misfortune. (Y/N) understood everything from that one look and felt the unpleasant sting of tears.

“I will kill him,” she declared forcefully, slamming the tray onto the wooden table with a loud bang. “I will kill that arse.”

“(Y/N), please...” Aethelflaed whispered. “It won't do any good. And I am capable of handling it myself.”

“You shouldn't even say that,” her sister protested, getting closer and gently placing her hands on Aethelflaed's cheeks. They were wet. “It's alright, sweetheart, it's alright.”

She planted a kiss on the top of her head and headed towards the door.

“Don't tell anyone, (Y/N). Especially not father,” she begged, getting up.

“I'll only speak to those who already know,” (Y/N) replied, barely containing her anger towards Aethelflaed's pathetic husband. “You're the Princess of Wessex, for God's sake. You're his woman, and he shouldn't treat you like this. He won't have a cock if he lays a hand on you again, trust me.”

“You'll get into trouble, (Y/N),” Aethelflaed warned, shaking her head nervously. “He can hurt you as well-”

The princess didn't listen, for she had already left the chamber. Blind rage consumed her, but so did a sadness so great that it was even more dangerous than her anger. She knew there was something wrong with him. She shouldn't have allowed this marriage to happen.

She should have protected her sister.

Aethelred appeared just in time. He strode down the corridor, his posture straight, absentmindedly trailing his hand along one of the tapestries.

“Lord Aethelred,” she snarled, making no effort to be polite. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”

The man turned slowly, bestowing upon her the sweetest and most deceitful smile.

“Little princess.”

(Y/N) tried to calm herself, but she wasn't making much progress.

“Let's get to the point,” she hissed, finally getting Aethelred to reveal his true face from behind the mask he wore daily at the royal court. “I saw my sister and the state she's in. I will not tolerate such insolence or cruelty. Who do you think you are? Hurt her again and I...”

That pile of shit started laughing.

“Terrifying is the barking of an angry bitch.” He took a few lazy steps in her direction. “I almost pissed myself in fear.”

“And you should, because I promise that...”

Aethelred rushed forward, pressing her against the wall with a hand around her throat.

“Well, what? What will you do? Maybe you'll switch places with her to spice up this tedious life of mine a little bit."

Sihtric wandered through the palace, looking for lord Uhtred his excuse, but in reality he hoped for an encounter with the princess. They were about to head out from Winchester soon. Leaving without saying goodbye was not something he wanted.

He found them just in time as (Y/N) pushed Aethelred back with all her might and punched him in the face. They all heard the unmistakable crunching sound.

Lord of Mercia was trying to regain his balance, clinging to his bloody face in shock.

“You whore,” he snapped, but Sihtric was already nearby, placing his hand warningly on the axe.

“Hope I misheard something,” he said to Aethelred, voice dripping with venom, and then looked at the princess. “Are you alright?”

“She broke my nose, of course she’s fine,” the man snorted, trying to stop the flow of blood. “You will answer for it. Just wait. And your heathen friends won’t rush to your rescue, I assure you.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, holding on to the fist that struck Aethelred. She watched him leave with an absent look in her eyes, and then as if she finally registered Sihtric's presence.

If he had come a few moments earlier, he'd surely fling himself at that arsehole in her defense. But it turns out she was perfectly able to fight back. Sihtric felt a sudden surge of admiration and respect for the princess in a beautifully embroidered dress, who did not hesitate to throw a punch.

“Are you sure he didn’t do anything to you? Shall I go after him?” he asked, but instead of answering, (Y/N) slid slowly down the wall. Sihtric crouched beside her, worried as never before. He gently held the injured hand. He raised her bruised knuckles to his lips, but left only the ghost of touch on them. “Princess?”

“He hurt her,” (Y/N) sobbed helplessly. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but she had a feeling Sihtric would know how to keep a secret. “He hurt her and he will hurt her again, and there’s nothing I can do. He will hide behind his title, behind his lands, wealth and nobility. He was right. I can't do anything."

She was shaken by a wave of tears, and Sihtric instinctively embraced her with one arm and supported the back of her head with the other. She cried there on the cold floor, in the arms of a warrior who couldn't stand the sight.

He knew what was going on. And his heart ached at the thought.

“You were very brave,” he whispered, letting her lean on his chest. “Others would look away. You confronted him. You are a brave, brave girl.”

He kept saying it like a mantra, holding her in his arms until the crying subsided. He wiped the tears from her face with the thumb of his hand when she finally lifted her head.

“I won’t run away from that either,” she whispered in a faint voice. Sihtric raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “I can laugh about it and put it off, but I’m just a woman with a cursed title before my name. They'll hand me over to a man I won't choose. And he will have the right to violence as soon as we tie the knot.”

Sihtric shook his head. This fate wasn’t meant for her. There was strength and courage in this lady’s heart that demanded freedom. And demanded love, the wild and untamed kind.

“It can not be like that. I won’t allow it.”

“You don’t have much power in this matter, Sihtric. You don’t make the rules.”

“Let me decide for myself.”

He looked into the eyes of the princess and knew that the battle he would have to face was beyond his means. The only witnesses to this promise were the faces on the ancient tapestries. Men's faces behind unbreakable laws, traditions and customs.

But Sihtric Kjartansson was a warrior. And if there’s one thing that warriors can do, they can fight.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric the last kingdom #sihtric x reader #sihtric fanfiction #sihtric kjartansson x reader #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfiction #sihtric imagine

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tlkfaerie · 7 months

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Ribbons ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: Finan x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that just made it worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Finan, I-"

"Say my name again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Finan, I swear-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Finan, I think . . ."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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