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nxrdist · 4 years

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𝕺𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞||TLK Fic|| FinanxOC||Seven

AN: This story is basically writing itself at the moment which is great. I intended so much more to happen in this chapter and somehow it ended up being an absolute emotional roller coaster instead. Though some important stuff does still happen. (I may just be subconsciously delaying Gisela’s death. I do love her so much.) Anyway as always your thoughts are always appreciated :)

Story Summary: Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.

Words: 5660

Æscengum was where King Alfred intended to defeat Bloodhair. Upon receiving word, the Bishop sought out Uhtred to convey their King’s decision and request for troops. Together they stood on the top terrace landing to one of Lunden’s Roman houses looking out over the city. They were not alone as Finan was also there, but the Irishman was content to listen in silence while they spoke.

“Æscengum!” Uhtred barked.

Erkenwald shot a scathing look in Uhtred’s direction and rebuked him for his amused tone. Predictably, Uhtred did not seem to care much for the Bishop’s admonishment, merely waiting for the sour man to continue, and he did.

“Our Lord King,” he began. “Has called for you and some of your warrior to join him. If the safety of this city is ensured in their absence.”

“It is,” Uhtred assured.

Though his Lord did not indicate it aside from his quick response, Finan knew Uhtred was galvanized that Alfred had finally called for him. It had been weeks since Danes had first been spotted, yet all Wessex had done was assemble their army and wait.

“Haesten will not attack?” Erkenwald pressed.

“He won’t.”

Their conversation continued apace for a few more minutes, with the Bishop questing Uhtred until he felt certain Lunden would be safe. The matter then settled, Erkenwald took his leave of their presence, having no desire to dawdle in the pagan’s company. Uhtred and Finan watched him walk off -the waiting priests trailing behind until he was out of sight.

“Æscengum?” Finan commented mildly then.

“It is between Harald and Haesten’s forces,” Uhtred responded dryly. “They’ve marched their army across Wessex and accomplished nothing.”

Finan hummed absently. “Æthelred?”

“Perhaps.”

“Will Harald go there?” Finan asked, knowing the answer.

Uhtred shot Finan a meaningful look.

“I didn’t think so.” The Irishman chuckled.

Silently both men contemplated the merit or lack thereof to the supposed plan. It was spectacularly unlikely to succeed given that with the West Saxon army virtually out of their way, Bloodhair could simply continue to raid as much as he liked. Of course, to defeat Alfred had its draw, but the Danes were not the sort with an appetite for sieges, and to attack Æscengum would be a siege. That burh was relatively small and lay in the heart of Wessex, where it served to protect Winchester from the east. It had high strong walls and palisades, and if Harald had half a brain, he would leave Alfred to sit behind them while he enriched himself.

Finan soon found himself wondering what Tove would have to say about the plan when she heard. Surely, she would see the flaws and balk at its absurdity. The thought of it brought a small smile to his face.

“I’m going to ask Tove to stay behind,” Uhtred said suddenly.

Finan looked at him sharply. “She won’t like that.”

Uhtred’s answering look was hard. “Probably not.”

It was not difficult for Uhtred to read in Finan’s face that he wanted to ask why but was reluctant to question his judgment.

“I’ll need someone to stay with Gisela and the children.” Supplied Uhtred.

“No other reason?” Finan ventured.

“They get on well.”

Finan nodded. That much was true as the two had bonded over being pagan Danes among the Christian Saxons and were friends. Though there was another reason that neither Uhtred nor Finan was willing to directly voice. While it was their nature that the Danes squabbled routinely amongst themselves, Tove had not faced any Danes on a real battlefield since joining Uhtred’s household, and he felt somewhat cautious of putting her in such a position.

It was not because he doubted her loyalty to him or capability as a warrior. More specifically, he did not want to put her in a position that might cause her to hesitate and, therefore, be injured or killed. Uhtred knew avoiding that eventuality with Harald breathing down Wessex’s throat would not be possible for long unless he was defeated. So, despite knowing Tove would likely curse him for keeping her away, he would do what he could for a time -as her friend and Lord.

Several hours before the sunset, Uhtred found her seated on a bench in the yard wiping dirt from her face with a damp cloth. Since the night Finan had brought her back from the woods, Tove was changed, and Uhtred had noticed -though it was subtle. Not only had she returned to her more cheerful self, spending time again with the other warriors and with Gisela, but he perceived some of the heaviness she carried since Scaepege had been lifted from her shoulders. Finan had not shared the details of that night with Uhtred though it did not take one of much wit to determine the improvement was thanks to him. That was why Uhtred had chosen to share his plans with Finan before seeking her out. He trusted that had the Irishman any reservations about his decision, he would have voiced them then.

Tove let out a laugh at something Sihtric had said as Uhtred approached them. She sat next to Osferth, who Uhtred noted, was also covered in dirt with Sihtric across from them. All three seemed to be rather enjoying themselves.

“I slipped!” she exclaimed.

“You can’t lie to me,” Sihtric teased. “I saw it. Osferth used your own trick against you. Kicked your foot right out from under ya!”

“What’s this I hear? Tove Ødgersdottier has been beaten by a monk?”

Sihtric jumped at the chance to recount the story. Speaking with hardly concealed amusement, he filled in his Lord on the details of Osferth and Tove’s spar. She threw a weak glare at the half-Dane when he chuckled at the part where Osferth had copied the move she had used to win their first practice duel. Using his shield, he had pushed hard, causing her to stumble, thereby allowing him to kick a foot out from under her. When Sihtric had finished, Uhtred chortled good-naturedly.

“You cannot fault him for having learned from your style.” Uhtred pointed out.

Sihtric nodded and attempted to console her. “It is a clever trick.”

“Aye.” Tove agreed. “And you did well, baby monk.”

Having kept quiet up to that point, Osferth smiled and thanked her. Inclining her head slightly, Tove smiled in return.

“You are unhurt?” Osferth asked.

“Do not worry for me, friend. A sore backside will not slow me down.”

Before Osferth or Sihtric could reply, Uhtred interrupted. “I need to speak with you for a moment, Tove.”

Nodding, she got to her feet and followed her Lord without question. He led her out of the yard towards the armory to stow away the training staffs. There was only a young man inside when they arrived, and he left after replacing his stave in its proper place. Tove lingered momentarily, glancing at Uhtred, before going to set the staffs on their rack. Uhtred was not one to hesitate for lack of words though, he felt the need to choose them carefully for the news he was to deliver.

“Lord?” Tove asked when the silence became intolerable to her.

Brow crinkling some, he scratched his chin.

“Is everything alright?”

Uhtred dropped his hand, focusing on her face. A faint concern shadowed her otherwise calm expression as she awaited his answer.

“I received word from Alfred.” Uhtred paused before clarifying. “It is the king’s wish that I join him at Æscengum.”

Pointed as his words were, they also seemed meant to convey more than their obvious meaning. What meaning was, was not readily apparent to Tove. She made no effort to conceal her confusion from him.

“This is good news, is it not?”

“It is. The sooner Bloodhair is dealt with the better. But-” Uhtred heaved a sigh. “I need you to stay here.”

Comprehension dawned on her and a small frown rose to her lips.

“I want you to guard Gisela and my children. It will be you, along with Cerdic and a few others.”

“I understand, Lord.” Said Tove in a carefully calm tone, which surprised Uhtred a little.

Tension Uhtred had not realized he carried, released in his shoulders. “It is because I trust you to see that they are safe.”

Tove’s answering smile was gentle, and she bowed her head with respect. “I will.”

Uhtred nodded, and taking that as her dismissal, she left without another word.

After exiting the armory, Tove wandered aimlessly through the streets. All around her were Lunden’s citizens going about their daily life with little care for what happened out in the wider world. Part of Tove wished that was her lot, but her subconscious knew she would not be content with that sort of life. Both of her parents had been warriors; she and Kåre took after them in that regard. If she found a man and settled down, Tove imagined she would still be a warrior even then. So, the realization that her friends would be heading off to battle without her was a difficult one to swallow.

Of course, they would keep each other safe, but not being able to be there, all Tove was liable to do was worry. It occurred to her that that must be how Igna felt every time Kåre sailed. She did not like it.

That evening Tove chose to visit with Gisela and Ealhswith at Uhtred’s house for the chief purpose of avoiding any of the pre-battle enthusiasm that surely accompanied the news they would be riding out on the morrow. Blessedly the women avoided talking about it in her presence, which told her they already knew she’d be staying behind. It didn’t surprise her, considering Uhtred was likely to have informed Gisela who would be staying to guard the family, and Ealhswith could have learned from either her or Sihtric. Regardless of how they knew, Tove was thankful not to be surrounded by the whooping and shouting that was likely happening at the tavern.

They chatted idly about various mindless topics for several hours before Ealhswith decided it was time to get her children to bed. After bidding them goodnight, she gave Gisela and Tove both a quick hug and hurried off. Tove was then left alone by Gisela for a brief time as she put her own children to bed. When she returned, Gisela looked somewhat drained.

“I can leave if you’re tired.” Tove offered.

Gisela gave a short laugh as she took the seat beside Tove. “You’re fine; this one is determined to keep me up awhile longer anyhow.”

Tove’s grey eyes followed Gisela’s hand to her heavily pregnant belly.

“Do you think it will be a girl?” she asked.

“Definitely not. He kicks just as young Uhtred and Osbert did. It will be a boy.”

“When we were children, Kåre, always complained of our mother disliking him because she would not give him a brother.” Tove chuckled, but her face held a sadness.

Gisela put a reassuring hand on Tove’s arm. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“He thinks I am dead,” she said dryly. “At Scaepege...His best friend, Halvar, he was there. I spoke to him, and Halvar told me they all thought I was dead when they heard of the Thurgilson’s defeat.”

The dark-haired Dane frowned. “Was Kåre with him?”

Shaking her head, Tove took a sharp breath. “I was too thoughtless to ask.”

They were silent as Gisela rubbed Tove’s arm comfortingly.

“He tried to convince me not to come here -to stay for his child’s birth. Kåre has never had an interest in Wessex. He does his raiding in Frisia or Ireland.” Tove paused. “Perhaps so long as he thinks I am dead, he will stay away.”

Gisela looked deep in thought when Tove finished speaking, and they were both silent for what felt like quite a while but was, in reality, only a few minutes.

“Uhtred.” Gisela began carefully. “He would release you from your oath -if you asked it of him.”

Tove looked at the older woman in evident shock.

“My husband is not unkind. He knows what it is to be parted from home and loved ones,” she added.

To ask such a thing had never crossed Tove’s mind. If it had been posed to her months ago, she might have considered it, but now she found she could not. Not when just the thought of her friends going to battle without her caused her such great distress, and to think of never seeing them again felt impossible.

“I have never thought Uhtred unkind. He spared my life when many would not have,” Tove said firmly. “But I would not ask for that.”

“Not even to see Kåre or your sisters?” Gisela asked.

“Perhaps one day, when we have gone north, retaken Bebbanburg, it will be possible to see them, but I cannot part from him now.”

The knowing smile on Gisela’s face was odd to Tove, but she felt glad that the Lady seemed to understand. Not much later, Uhtred returned from the tavern, and Tove returned home.

Instead of being at all restful, her sleep that night was filled with fragmented dreams of battle. Some of them were of Beamfleot. In the first of those, she reached Njal in time to save him from Finan’s blade, only for her former Lord to turn on Finan and disembowel the Irishman before her eyes. Another version featured her brother in Njal’s place. There was also her dodging Finan’s shield and killing him upon realizing he had slain her Lord. Then came the skirmish in Frisia, where she first killed a man, except it was not a random soldier; it was Osferth or Sihtric, or Uhtred, or perhaps all of them at once. The face of the dying man had seemed to change before her very eyes as she stared down at him past her bloodstained hands.

By far, the worst of them was of a battle that was entirely unfamiliar to her. She was engaging a huge man who wielded a vicious war axe when she heard her name being called from across the field. Desperately Tove yelled back, telling the caller to hold fast. For a time, she struggled against the giant, who was determined to split her head open. Every time Tove thought she had him or that she might simply escape, he was there again. The calls were growing more urgent, but she couldn’t get away. Her shield was lost. All she had was Mercy, her short sword, and Fate, her long blade. He just kept coming and she was starting to tire from dodging.

Finally, an opening appeared as the behemoth swung his axe sloppily, missing her entirely; Tove was swift enough to take advantage of his mistake. Quick as she could, Tove thrust Mercy into the man’s belly, causing him to drop the axe as she twisted her blade on its way out. Not thinking twice about the dying man, Tove shoved pasted him and sprinted through the throng of battle towards the voice. Upon catching sight of the body lying prone on their back, her heart felt like it had stopped, and she sat up in bed, the sun shining through her window.

Despite knowing the dream for what it was, Tove was disturbed by it. Feeling an intense desire to assure herself of her friends’ safety before their imminent departure, she washed her face and dressed with haste. On her way to the stables, Tove made a point to try not to think of it though she could not help wondering whose cold dead eyes would have been staring up at her had she not woken.

Osferth was there already, loitering outside when she arrived. Having seen her approach from a distance, he called out a greeting when Tove was near enough to hear. She responded in kind, intentionally slowing her step to calm herself some before she reached him. The young former monk was whole and unharmed; it had been foolish to fear otherwise.

“I did not think to see you here,” Osferth said.

Tove arched a single brow at him. “Did you not expect me to see you off?”

He flushed, though whether at the mild joking implication in her tone or for feeling somewhat chastised by her words; it was unclear.

“Where are the others?” she asked, to deflect from her friend’s moment of embarrassment.

“Lord Uhtred is awake. He sent me to make sure the stable hands had the horses ready by the time he arrived.”

“Sihtric and Finan?” Tove asked.

“Likely still in their beds,” Osferth replied. “Both consumed a horrifying amount of ale last night.”

Tove nodded absently. “When are you to leave?”

“Before the mid-day meal or once everyone has arrived, whichever is sooner.”

The sight of Osferth had calmed Tove’s nerves considerably, but she felt the uncharacteristic anxiety would not be wholly banished until she had set eyes on all her friends.

“I could fetch them?” she offered.

“If you like.” Osferth chuckled. “I doubt they’ll be very agreeable.”

“Then I shall be doing you a favor,” Tove said.

Osferth nodded. “I will let Uhtred know when he gets here.”

She thanked him and set off towards Sihtric and Ealhswith’s home. It took Tove only fifteen minutes to reach the house walking at a leisurely pace. Sihtric’s daughter Elflæd was sitting outside playing with a home-made straw doll when she arrived. The dark-haired girl who looked so like her father smiled at Tove when she saw her.

“You’re here to see my daddy.” The girl observed astutely.

“Is he awake?” Tove asked lightly.

A sly grin spread across Elflæd’s face, which only served to make her look more like a miniature female version of Sihtric, and she whispered. “Mommy threw water on him.”

Tove chuckled. “Did she?”

Elflæd nodded excitedly. “Dolly and I laughed for a long time, but daddy didn’t think it was funny.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Tove said. “Is your mother inside?”

“She’s feeding Tellan!”

“I’ll go see them then,” she said and ruffled Elflæd’s hair before entering the home.

Ealhswith was at the kitchen table attempting to spoon porridge into her defiant son’s mouth with a look of utter defeat. Tove paused in the threshold to watch as the fussy Tellan smacked the spoon from his mother’s hand. She had to stifle a laugh when Ealhswith just stared at the offending piece of cutlery.

“I would say good morning, but I see that it is not,” Tove said once she had control of herself.

The Saxon lady looked up at her in slight astonishment. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“I should have announced myself.”

“No, no! It’s alright -you are always welcome. Are you looking for Sihtric?” Ealhswith asked, bending to retrieve the spoon.

“Yes.”

“Just a moment.” She stood and went to the stairs to call for him. “Sihtric!”

There was some shuffling above them and a muffled groan. Ealhswith looked at Tove and rolled her eyes for dramatic effect, but she was smiling.

“Here come and sit. Have you eaten?” Ealhswith asked, pausing on her way back to her seat. “I can get you some. I made plenty -though it seems half of it will end up on the floor.”

“Uh no, but you don’t need to trouble yourself,” Tove said, nodding her head towards Tellan as she took up a seat across from Ealhswith. “I see you’ve got your hands full.”

Before Ealhswith could answer, heavy footfalls came thumping down the stairs and a bedraggled Sihtric appeared -his hair and tunic were both damp. Tove covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing audibly at the sight of him. He stopped at the foot of the stair, throwing her an irritable look, then continued to the table where he plopped down into the seat next to his wife.

“You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” Ealhswith said to her husband.

Sihtric just groaned, dropping his head into his waiting hands. Ealhswith gave a long-suffering sigh before turning her attention back to their son.

“Are you sure you won’t eat?” The question was directed at Tove.

“No, I just came to check Sihtric was awake. I still have to go by Finan’s,” Tove replied. “Perhaps I’ll ask Gisela if she’d like to come for the evening meal, though?”

“Yes, that would be-” But Ealhswith was unable to finish her sentence due to Sihtric’s abrupt interruption.

“You’re going to Finan’s?” he asked.

Confused, Tove replied affirmatively.

Sihtric’s face paled, but he did his best to play it off. “I can get him. I’m sure you have...guard duties to get to.”

“I have no duties until everyone departs.” Tove eyed Sihtric suspiciously.

“Then I’ll come with you. Who knows what state Finan’s in,” he said.

And before she could reject the offer, Sihtric was on his feet heading for the door to pull on his boots. Tove glanced at Ealhswith, who only shrugged at the half-Dane’s strange behavior. By the time the women had exchanged their goodbyes and made their tentative plans to meet for dinner, Sihtric was standing outside waiting. There was tension between them as they made their way through the street, but Tove didn’t know what could be causing it.

It was no strange thing for her to go by the Irishman’s home after a night of drinking, so for Sihtric to insist on joining her was odd. Tove sent a few scrutinizing looks his way, but Sihtric made no comment. So, she walked alongside him in silence until they reached Finan’s house when he turned to her.

“I’ll go in first,” he said with no room for argument.

Tove frowned in response. Sihtric hovered next to her for a moment and she looked at him expectantly. Vainly perhaps, Tove hoped he was about to explain what the problem was but instead, Sihtric just looked at her carefully. She was about to demand some answers for his peculiar attitude when a crash sounded inside the house.

There was no time for Sihtric to stop her as Tove swiftly sidestepped him to push the door open. The curtains were drawn, so the small home’s interior was dim when she entered the main living area accompanied by Sihtric. Their eyes adjusted and the two looked around for anything that could have been the source of the sound. There was nothing; cups and platters were set in their place, chairs were pushed in, and Finan was nowhere to be seen. Though, they did spy that the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar.

Without thinking, Tove headed for the door. This time Sihtric was prepared to stop her, though, and he put a hand on her arm to halt her progress. She shot him a dirty look.

“What?” she snapped, rather fed up with his behavior.

“I don’t think he is alone.”

The suggestion gave Tove a pause, for she felt utterly obtuse not to have considered it as a possibility before surging into the house. Her only thought after the dreams she’d had was to ensure her friend was alright. Flushing a deep scarlet, Tove shrugged Sihtric’s arm off and stepped back from the door. Sihtric went inside, leaving the door open behind him; Tove did not peer in. She could hear Sihtric inside the room, attempting the rouse Finan. Then came a female voice, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, Tove instantly felt compelled to leave.

Outside, Tove stood with her back to the house, staring into the street. The concern that had briefly filled her drained away only to be replaced by something she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, Tove pushed it down. It wasn’t the first time in her life she’d found a friend in bed with someone. There was no reason to be bothered, Tove told herself. It was just Finan. Yet somehow, she had never thought of him being with someone nor had she seen him with anyone either, and she had been part of Uhtred’s household warriors for almost a year. Or perhaps, she’d just never noticed it? Tove frowned at that. It was unlikely; Finan had become her best friend and they spent quite a bit of time together.

Voices could be heard coming from inside the house. One of them Finan’s distinctive Irish lilt, then Sihtric and a female. Tove involuntarily stiffened when footsteps came up behind her shortly after the talking stopped, but it was only Sihtric. His expression was searching when he first met her eyes.

“He’ll meet us at the stables in a while,” Sihtric said.

Tove nodded.

“In the meantime, I’m starving. Come on.”

And Tove allowed herself to be led back to his and Ealhswith’s home -the dream and her worry forgotten.

The previous night’s events were cloudy in Finan’s mind, but he did recall the woman serving him and the others ale most of the evening. She was reasonably pretty with her ashy blonde hair, dark eyes, and an ample figure. Throughout the night, she had smiled at him and perhaps they spoke a few words in passing, though that conversation was lost to the fog of ale. What he could remember more clearly was bidding Sihtric goodnight when he returned from taking a piss and leaving with the barmaid. How that had come about, he wasn’t wholly sure. In his next full memory, they were at his house; she walked ahead of him towards the bedroom, leading him along with a mischievous glint in her eye.

The next thing he knew, she was lying naked beneath him moaning too loudly, clutching his shoulders, but it wasn’t her -at least not in his mind. His inebriated brain hadn’t seen the tavern wench. Instead, he had been gazing down at Tove writhing beneath him with her near-white blonde hair haloed around her head, moaning with pleasure as he made love to her, and staring intently into his eyes. He leaned down to brush a tender kiss to her lips, but when he pulled away it was the barmaid again. Any further details of the night beyond that had slipped through his fingers. Finan grumbled to himself, imagining the whole encounter must not have been that outstanding if it did not cut through the haze.

Having finished dressing, the barmaid emerged from Finan’s room. She still looked somewhat disheveled, but at least she was adequately dressed, though there was no reason to worry over it as Sihtric and Tove had already gone. Her smile faltered at the sight of Finan splashing water from a bowl onto his face. He didn’t acknowledge her at first as he stared blankly at the still water.

“Are you alright?” she asked tentatively.

Finan started not having realized her presence. “I’m fine…”

She went to place a hand on his shoulder, but Finan’s voice halted her.

“Look, we had fun an all, but ye do not need to make it what it is not,” he murmured.

Her breath stuck in her throat. She stepped back, squared her shoulders, and smoothed her expression. That was not the morning greeting she had expected to hear after how tender and passionate Finan had been with her, but whatever his reasons were, she supposed she’d just have to accept them.

“I’ll just be going then.”

“That, is probably best,” Finan replied, still not looking away from the bowl.

He was alone then staring into nothingness and pondering. The vision of Tove was seared into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, it was there. Of course, Finan had always recognized she was beautiful, not to would have been to lie, but as their friendship grew, he tried not to think about her beauty. It was more difficult though, after the woods when in the glow cast by the fire, he could have sworn for a moment he had in fact come upon one of the fair folk. And the heat he had felt emanating from her when he had rested his hand on her knee had stayed with him long after the contact was over.

In a sudden burst of frustration, Finan smacked the bowl away only vaguely hearing it smash against the far wall. He couldn’t do this. Feeling this way was wrong, but it was only becoming more difficult to ignore. Perhaps that was what had spurred his drunken self to seek out a distraction? Well, he thought wryly, it clearly had not worked. Finan cursed under his breath in his native tongue. He needed to pull himself together. They were riding out in mere hours and he could not afford to go to battle in an unfocused state of mind.

Mentally, Finan shook himself before setting about packing the few things he’d need in a sack and heading for the stables. When he reached his destination, there were already some people congregated around outside. Among them, he spotted Tove with Osferth, Lord Uhtred and Gisela. She leaned effortlessly against the plank wall of the stable, engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with Uhtred and the others. Averting his gaze, Finan searched for Sihtric, but before he could locate the dark-haired Dane, his name was called. He looked to see Uhtred waving him over.

Unable to ignore his Lord, Finan walked over. Gisela was appealing to her husband regarding the extent of her guard when as he strode up. It seemed she felt Uhtred was being a tad excessive. Tove wore a look of amusement, whereas Osferth appeared to be considering the Lady’s point.

“Tell these three that ten men are a perfectly reasonable guard,” Uhtred said.

Finan arched a brow, exchanging looks with Osferth who shrugged, and Tove who in turn offered a placating glance to Uhtred.

“And what is the alternative?” he asked.

“Six is enough,” said Gisela.

“With three on and three off at any one time.” Added Tove.

“Seems fair to me,” said Finan.

Uhtred sighed. Seeing that he was outnumbered, he relented. “Alright, but Tove will stay at the house.”

Gisela smiled, and Finan had a suspicion the Lady had intended her to do just any way. The decision made Uhtred excused himself, with a swift kiss on his wife’s cheek, likely to check on some other business. Leaving Finan with the remaining three.

“I’ll meet you at the gate when they are ready to leave,” Gisela said to Tove.

The shieldmaiden indicated her agreement with a nod. Gisela threw a look at Osferth before she departed.

“I’ve got some things to check on,” Osferth added before heading off as well.

Tove watched Osferth hurry off with a curious look. She was sure she’d seen him complete his preparations earlier. Shrugging it off as the monk just being odd, she turned to scrutinize the Irishman’s appearance.

“I see you are well,” Tove said.

“Aye.”

“That is good.”

Finan felt an uncomfortable tension between them, but he was unsure of how to break it. Though Finan hadn’t seen her, he knew she was there with Sihtric at his house and didn’t know what she had seen.

“Did you know?” Tove asked, seeking his gaze.

“Know wha’?” he responded in mild surprise.

“Yesterday Uhtred told me I was to stay behind as part of Gisela’s guard. Did you know?”

Finan avoided her eyes when he answered. “Aye. He did tell me tha’.”

He could see her nod out of his periphery, but she made no verbal response.

“I warned him ya’ wouldn’ be happy.”

Tove hummed. “I am only unhappy to see my friend -friends- go to battle without me.”

Finan looked at her earnest grey eyes and wondered how he could dare hope for more from her. The many practical reasons she could not possibly want him aside; how he could even let himself be with her after Laoise. The grief of that ill-fated infatuation no longer stung, but its shadow was long and full of warning. Finan had not allowed himself anything more than a passing fancy for a woman since his exile from Ireland.

“You will look after yourself?” Her expression was pained.

“Of course.” Finan smiled, trying to lighten her mood. “I’ve made it this long, haven’t I.”

Rolling her eyes, Tove punched the Irishman lightly in the shoulder. Even though Finan hadn’t checked Gúthwine, he elected to stay and chat with her a while longer. Both were apparently reticent to part now the tension was dispelled, but when Uhtred called out for the departing warriors to saddle up, Finan was shocked how much time had passed. Tove appeared just as surprised.

“You had better get on then,” she said, pushing off the wall.

Without thinking, Finan stepped forward to embrace her and Tove returned it warmly, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He held her to him even as he felt the same rush of heat as when he’d touched her knee. When Finan finally thought he should let go, Tove held on; her fingers clutching him felt like an echo of the vision from the previous night, causing him to still. She turned her head slightly to whisper in his ear.

“Come back.” Tove released him and the heat was gone.

Finan stared at her and thought to crack a joke, but none came. In the end, he could only nod.

Tove stood with Gisela and the children at the gate to watch them go. Uhtred led the precession flanked by Sihtric, Finan and Osferth -behind them rode three hundred of Lunden’s warriors. They all looked quite well in their battle finery and Tove committed their faces to memory. It was the first time she would be parted from them since coming to Lunden, a lingering feeling of doubt twisted in her gut telling her not all would go as planned. As they approached the gate, Tove caught Finan’s eye and smiled reassuringly. He returned the gesture and waved to her, but then Sihtric pulled his attention away.

endnote; I hope it was clear from Tove’s internal dialogue that she doesn’t think Finan is with someone now. And we finally got why Finan is holding himself back with her. But I mean come on man, it couldn’t possibly work out worse than him ending up on a slave ship -could it? Laoise is pronounced (Lee-sha)

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#finan #tlk #finan fic #tlk fic #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic #ool fic

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