#Sihtric x OC
Text
hold my hand | sihtric
author’s note: a little something for Sihtric. It took a moment to figure out. Hope you enjoy :) Lots of love & stay safe 💕
She was barely standing, her feet sore and her ankles bruised from the multiple tumbles she had taken through the night.
It was a full moon, her glow was cast across the realm and reaching as much of the land as she could. The trees were mighty and proud as their shadow radiated onto the hidden field, creating nightmares from within.
Nightmares from pure darkness.
The violent barking of the hound struck her to her core, her body almost pulling her to the ground.
The animal stood tall in front of her, glaring and snaring at her scent. His teeth shined against his dark fur, the colour matching the pitch black sight of the night, with his saliva trickling down the grass.
Her breath was stuck in her throat, imprisoned in her lungs as her eyes held their gaze against the animal, unable to move.
Terror covered her body as her drenched skin shivered from the cold.
She tried to calm it, to persuade it to remain gentle but it wasn’t budging. Still persistent, it was attracting the attention of the very men she was running away from.
The hound approached her, his growling matching every step forward; noticing it was closing the distance between them, she started stepping back in an attempt to run.
Not even knowing where she was going, she struck her body against a rough surface; she wasn’t registering what had happened.
Only when she felt pressure around her did she realize she had bumped into another person; stuck between two stones, there was no way she was going to make it out alive. Death was coming either in the form of a beast, or in the hands of a Dane.
He held on, her back against his chest as his hand covered her mouth, silencing any attempt at sound.
With his free hand, he threw his dagger against the dog, hitting it instantly.
The silence almost came as a comfort. Almost.
With the animal now dead, she was dragged away and forced to follow the man caging her, his arms still holding her hostage. She tried to fight him off even though she knew her weakened strength was no match for him.
She was then pushed against the trunk of a tree with the stranger moving in front of her. Her back became sore from the impact as her mind was adjusting to her new situation.
He hadn’t let go of her yet, his right hand still covering her mouth to stifle her cries.
He could see the fear in her eyes; her heart was about to give out, abandoning all hope of survival.
She was trying to free herself, hitting him where she could to distract him. But in vain, he re-affirms his grip while attempting to be gentle.
The rustle of grass struck her frozen.
Someone was coming their way.
The moonlight’s reflection was weak to her eyes, but he could tell hunters were about to cross their paths.
Catching her sight, he still hasn’t spoken a word. All he did was place a finger over his lips, gesturing her to remain quiet and calm while the men passed by.
His stance changed as he prepared to fight.
He slowly let her go, turning his back to her.
As he did, she noticed a scar on the right side of his face, near his hairline. It took her a moment, but she eventually recognized who was her captor and her heart dropped.
Gravitating to the ground, her body closed in on itself as she crouched with her knees pressed against her chest. Her fingers went straight for the crucifix that hung hidden around her neck; she started praying silently, the words spilling out like waterfall.
All the while her eyes remained closed as her hands moved to her ears, blocking all the noise. All she could hear was the ringing inside her head, her heart pounding against her chest.
She prayed, practically begging for God to save her, to whisk her away from this torture, to take her away and never bring her back.
Only when she felt skin at her chin did she open her eyes.
The Dane matched her height, his fingers lifting her head to his eyes while catching his breath. He defeated the two men who had been looking for her.
Her heart sunk further into her gut, hiding away.
“P-plea-se-” The plead was a broken whisper. Her dried throat could barely muster her voice to reach her chords. It didn’t stop her. She pushed through, the muscle working with the pain in her chest. “Don’t take me back to him. Don’t take me back to your f-ather.”
At her words, Sihtric realized she hadn’t known of his changed loyalties, that he had left his father’s side and was now serving a new lord.
She was still holding onto her threaded pendant, her knuckles turning white.
The strength of her beating heart was resonating through every inch of her body and soul, the noise singing in her ears. It almost deafened his words, not comprehending what he was trying to tell her.
He took a step back, giving her space.
She tried getting up to her feet, but was not able to succeed; her ankles were failing as anchors. She attempted again at standing up, using her hands to grasp onto the bark of the tree. All the while, Sihtric was right there, ready to jump in and help her if she were to fall again.
“D-don’t hurt me. I-I beg yo-u.” She spoke again, her voice trembling against her lips. She couldn’t look away from him, her eyes stuck to his. “Don’t bring me back - I’ll do anything, just please let me go. Give me freedom.”
Her stance broke his heart.
He approached her, gently in reassurance as he spoke her name, the spelling across his tongue sending shivers down his spine.
“Aelyth-”
She panicked; the walls around her violently grew tall, blocking him as she forced herself away. “N-no! Please don’t hurt me.” She backed out, her eyes quickly looking down at the dead bodies before shifting back to him. “I know he is your father, but please understand- I-I can’t go back. I would rather die.”
The words came just as she felt ready for them. If it had to be done, so be it.
With whatever strength was residing in her, she lunged for one of the fallen weapons - a dagger.
He was startled by her sudden movement, finding her standing with the tip of a knife against her chest. The pressure was close to breaking her skin. “If you move any closer, I will push this dagger right into my heart.”
The determination in her words left him emotional, the small seed growing in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m not going back.” She was holding onto the hilt for dear life. “He is cruel, and brutal an-and- I can’t be a slave any longer-” Every word spilling out of her brought despair with her next sentence. “He makes me want to die.” She let out a sob, the sound caught in the back of her throat as her hands started to shake.
She pushed the dagger a little bit deeper, just enough to cut her skin.
A thin red line crossed over the fabric of her clothes; despite the darkness, he could see the blood seep through.
There was urgency in his movements. “I’m not taking you back.” His eyes were kept on the weapon, her bruised skin throbbing from the discomfort. He swallowed the lump in his throat, praying to his gods she could trust him. “I won’t, I promise.”
She thought her ears had tricked her. She frowned, shocked at his words. “W-what?”
“Yes, Kjartan is my father - as much as I hate it. But I’m not loyal to him.”
She still couldn’t comprehend it. It wasn’t making sense. Even though she had begged for it, a part of her somehow felt she was going to be dragged back to Dunholm.
“I thought-” She was formulating her words too slowly, her mind racing at the hundreds of thoughts pouring through. She remained quiet for a moment, uncertain of how to feel. “Don’t you want to make him proud?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“You’re his son, his blood-” She was stating the obvious, so why was he not understanding?
But he knew what her mind was thinking. Of course it made sense - what son didn’t want to make their father proud?
Ever so gently, he stepped towards her. She was still lost in her thoughts, not knowing now where she stood.
When the dagger grew heavy, she snapped back to reality, completely flustered.
Sihtric stood very close to her. He held onto the knife at the hilt, his hand shadowing hers. “You have my word, Aelyth. You are not going back to him. I swear it.” The sound of his voice was soft and soothing, almost too a whisper, bringing about a sense of calmness.
A feeling she completely bypassed.
How could he simply turn his back so easily on his own father? Whatever feeling was gnawing in her gut, she was clinging to it, hesitant to believe him.
“Come with me.” He tried to be persuasive, to make her believe he had good intentions.
She shook her head at his request, not trusting the young Dane.
She was left speechless, not letting go of her weapon. Her grip tightened to such strength, any more and the palms of her hands could bleed from the shock.
With a broken heart, he let her go.
He couldn’t push her to follow him. He wasn’t going to become violent and forceful when all she needed was kindness and hope.
She had caught his eyes a few years ago, and since then, all he ever wanted was to set her free and take her away from their hellhole.
He deeply cared for her, something she never knew.
She lived in a world where pain and dread draped her the way skin drapes tissue and bone. So how could she even think that a Saxon would be of romantic interest to a Dane?
She never looked or thought of him the way he did for her; her body and soul not allowing her to even feel anything else that could remotely make her life tolerable.
Sihtric was a shy young man around her; the small moments they shared whenever they were in the same room together were his favourite. Nothing had to be said, her presence was enough to make him timidly smile, his eyes following her around.
He was taken by her and hoped to the gods she felt the same.
She should’ve known, realized that he was nothing like his father. That his words were true.
He was always the only one that was kind to her. Even on the worst days, he never laid a hand on her, nor was he rough or violent like the rest of them. He was quiet, gentle and patient, secretly looking out for her whenever he could.
It was the smallest of things he would do that made her forced stay mildly bearable.
It was seeing him in the crowd, the caring look in his eyes that calmed her heart whenever she would march into a storm.
And yet, when it came to the moment where she could trust him, nothing came to be.
Whether he was telling the truth or lying - she didn’t want to risk it.
She stepped away from him, distraught.
“N-no-” Another sob was caught in her throat, overwhelming every fibre of her being. “You are one of his- I-I can’t trus-t you.”
These words, though spoken out of fear, sent heartache to his core; it changed in the way he looked at her, something she noticed. He looked sad, almost, she thought.
How could he convince her?
Time suspended in the air, the moment ended when footsteps and voices could be heard.
Hell was coming back for her.
Panic rose in her chest as the dagger dropped on the ground.
She barely gave him a glance, her feet suddenly finding strength to run.
She left the Dane and slipped away, not giving him the chance to catch her.
How could she have known it was only an army sneaking its way into Dunholm - all for the goal to defeat Kjartan.
She disappeared into the darkness of the forest, leaving him to run in his own direction, urgently going back to find Uthred.
The moon was still shining bright into the woods, her comforting light seeping through the leaves of the trees.
The atmosphere around her had calmed down. By then, her body was failing her; fatigue grew stronger with every step as her chest throbbed from the pain she had inflicted just a few moments ago.
She prayed to God for the morning to come faster, or at least for the darkness of the remaining night to protect her.
Starved, hurt and depleted, she was close to giving up.
With the weighted breath that left her lungs, she eventually collapsed on the mudded ground, shivers kissing her skin at the touch of the cold and wet grass.
She remained still, exhausted.
Her mind raced, her thoughts recounting over and over again the events that had occurred with Sihtric. If he was truly no longer loyal to his father, did she make a mistake running away from him?
She tried to make the voices in her head convince her she made the right choice.
Embarking on a silent conversation, she tried to persuade every inch of instinct that held onto her that he was lying - that it was too good to be true. He had followed her, ran after her, that’s why she bumped into him in the middle of a deserted forest.
But then again, why did he protect her? Why did he fight his father’s men when they came for her?
Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, covering her view as they trickled down her cheeks.
She embraced her bruised body as she laid down on the dirt, her heart breaking apart.
That damn conversation did nothing to convince she had made the right choice. It had become an endless loop, replaying itself over and over again until an ache settled in, covering every part of her - physically, mentally and emotionally.
It was unbearable, too much to handle while remaining awake.
The sounds of howling wolves, hooting owls and chirping insects had become soundtrack to her moment. Deaf to her ears, they were here regardless and adding impact to her stifled cries.
It was the morning after their victory; Uthred and his group of men had bid their goodbyes as they headed back to Wessex.
While marching on, Sihtric quickened his pace as he wanted to reach the forest as soon as possible and hoped, by the love of the gods, she was still there and alive.
Following the path into the woods, he got off his horse and started his search from where they met, trying to look for any sign of movements. He held onto his pendant, praying the gods could help him find her.
Time had passed long enough that he was just about to give up; he was on the verge of losing hope.
“Sihtric.”
He turned around at the sound of his name, his eyes finding Finan standing a few feet away. The Irishman signalled his friend to come over, silently guiding him to what he had found.
She was curled up tightly, giving the illusion her body was merging with the roots of the tree.
Sihtric rushed over and at his sight, his heart stopped. He thought her dead.
Ever so slowly, he approached her and kneeled down, gently moving the strands of her hair away from her face.
She was breathing.
A rush of relief washed over him, not realizing he had been holding his breath.
The whispers and shadows stirred her awake. Once she opened her eyes, she saw a body hovering above her.
Sudden panic settled in again, taking over her limbs as she straighten her back and pushed herself further against the tree. The abrupt movement created a burning sensation to her palms, her hands hurting as they became anchors against the grass.
“Are you alright?”
His voice sounded far away, her sight trying to adjust to her new surrounding. She felt disoriented, last night’s events slowly creeping back into her mind.
This scene made her speechless.
“Is she hurt?”
It was a woman’s voice - that she knew; Hild had spoken up, not too loud as to startle her.
She leaned away from Sihtric, her head tilting to find a small group of people staring back at her, all on their horses.
Confused, the pace of her heart increased, the muscle fighting for survival against her chest.
Mute and terrorized, the trauma of the night had carried over into a new day; that’s all she could think.
“Aelyth…” The way her name sounded against the sound of his voice felt oddly soothing. There was no roughness, no anger. He was only worried, trying to remain calm.
It was only when Sihtric spoke up again did her gaze revert back to him.
“It is all over. Kjartan is dead.”
“What?” Even though he spoke, his words had no meaning; her brain still trying to catch up, she couldn’t understand the significance of the moment.
He tried again, still gentle, still patient.
“He is dead. You’re free.”
It’s that one, that last one that set her off. It echoed, the vibration sending shivers through her spine.
It was overwhelming.
She leaned backwards, gently percussing her head against the tree over and over again. Tears kissed the corners of her eyes again; she covered her face and started to cry.
She was hit by a wave she never saw coming, and she didn’t drown. She survived the violent storm and made it through to the other side.
“Come with me. Let’s get you out of here.” His voice, ever so kind, brought her back to him - to reality. She was still uncertain as the bodies surrounding them left her to cower.
He could tell she grew afraid; her eyes couldn’t stop shifting to every person that stood behind him. “You’re with good people now. No one will hurt you. You have my word.”
He didn’t know what else to say. And so, he carefully approached her, close enough to reach for her. He rested his hands on each of her cheeks, wiping her tears away. The warmth of his touch consoled her as it traveled across her cold and weakened body. He leaned forward, softly pressing his forehead against hers, hoping that the gesture would showcase his sincerity, his emotions.
“Trust me.” It was a whisper, but the words were loud as they reached her right to her core. Again, soft heat rushed through her veins, a sensation she had forgotten so long ago. She met his gaze, finding the mismatched colour of his eyes. They stood out the longer she stared.
There were no ill feelings, no cruelty or viciousness hanging around them.
Her heart swelled up, a feeling she doesn’t remember ever having.
It took a moment as she was trying to clear the bad thoughts from her head.
It was the way he stared at her that rushed her. Not because he grew impatient, but because she never wanted to part from them.
She nodded, her heart climbing back up to her throat, sighing in relief.
The smallest of smile graced his lips. He stood up and stretched his arm to her.
“Hold my hand.”
She met him and held on as he helped her get back up on her feet and without letting her go, sensing she wasn’t strong enough to stand on her own.
She held on for dear life, afraid to lose her anchor and terrified this could all be just a trick, a beautiful lie.
He brushed strands of her hair out of her face; the rays of the sun were peaking through, giving her comfort. Once more, she shut her eyes at the feeling, leaning into his embrace.
A gentle upward curves to his lips, he quietly watched her. There was no more fear or sorrow, only peace painting the features across her face.
His heart skipped a beat.
They stood still this way for a long second before he led her to his horse. He helped her climb as he took his place in front. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tight, and pressed her head against his shoulder. The exhaustion of the night had taken over, lulling her further into sleep.
She found freedom in the arms of a Dane, her heart finally resting at ease.
The group quietly rode out and marched towards Wessex. While on the move, Sihtric felt her tighten her grip around him. The pressure reassured him of her presence, proof of life, bringing him solace.
One hand held the rein of his horse, the other reached for hers. The softness of his touch caressing her skin made her smile, small - bashful. It was a sweet lullaby, which she gladly welcomed.
He didn’t let go, hanging on for the full journey back home.
A place where she could start over and finally live her life; a place where he hoped he would be part of it, with her.
No matter how long it took.
————–
part 2 | hold on to me
xoxo,
#the last kingdom#tlk#sihtric#sihtric x oc#sihtric x reader#tlk fanfic#mywriting#arnas fedaravicius#sihtric imagine#the last kingdom fanfic#Photo by Camden & Hailey George on Unsplash
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sihtric Kjartansson Masterlist
Series
Under construction...
Oneshots
Flowers and Loyalty - (Sihtric Kjartansson x Uhtred's Daughter!reader - coming soon)
After begging for weeks, Sihtric's lord finally gives him permission to marry. Except his lord is in for a shock when Sihtric comes knocking at your door, asking for your hand in marriage...
A Captive - (Sihtric Kjartansson x reader - coming soon)
Every day in Dunholm, on order of Kjartan, Sihtric is sent to the dungeons to feed you. You, a young girl living with dogs in a dungeon. You, a gentle soul slowly driven to madness, who has stolen the heart from Sihtric without him even knowing it... (reader is kinda like Thyra in this)
AUs
Norse Mythology AUs
To Have, To Hold, But First, To Woo - (Freyr!Sihtric x Gerðr!reader)
Sihtric is madly in love and has become desperate. With no better plan in his mind, he sends Uhtred and Finan to try and woo you for him. - Based on a Norse Myth -
Mind Your Manners - (Thor!Sihtric x Sif!reader - coming soon)
The giant Hrungnir threatens to kidnap you, Sihtric's beloved wife, and Sihtric will not let this go unpunished.
#sihtric#sihtric kjartansson#the last kingdom#the last kingdom fanfic#the last kingdom fic#tlk fanfic#tlk#tlk fandom#tlk season 2#sihtric x reader#sihtric x you#sihtric fic#sihtric smut#sihtric x oc#sihtric kjartansson x reader#sihtric kjartansson x you#arnas fedaravicius
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Love A Dragon: Part 1
Notes: I am incapable of writing one part fics anymore, so here’s part one of a miniseries about Sihtric and Rhaenerys that takes place during season 2. It’s short but I have more planned for it.
Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Rhaenerys Targaryen
Word Count: 1722
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: N/A
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom or A Song Of Ice And Fire nor do I own any of the images used.
Dividers by @arcielee and @zaldritzosrose
Sihtric had heard tales of the lands beyond the ocean, where old magic and dragons rule the land. When he was younger, he thought of them just as stories, tall tales to keep young children in line. But now he sees that they weren’t just tales. They were real. Very real.
Dunholm was a flurry of activity, his father even more on edge than usual. Kjartan wasn’t one to let many things get under his skin, but his tense stance and shifting eyes betrayed his fear. Scouts had returned claiming there was a dragon in the area, the men so damned terrified they could hardly speak. Sihtric had been keeping out of the way, before rushing to the ramparts when everyone else started to crowd the high walls.
He heard it before he saw it, the thunderous beating of wings before a massive dragon swooped down out of the sky, a deafening roar rolling across the land. He stood there, frozen in place as he watched the black and purple beast fly towards his home, his fear giving way to a sense of awe. It was only then he saw a saddle strapped to the dragon, the scaled beast flying close enough to the ramparts that Sihtric could just barely make out a woman in the saddle, her white hair blowing wildly behind her. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her laughter and by the gods did he want to hear it again.
He couldn’t believe his eyes, an actual Targaryen in Northumbria, but he couldn’t linger in his thoughts for too long, the sound of Tekil calling him pulling him from his reverie. Before he even made it to the old warriors side, he was told to pack his things and be at the stables to leave before nightfall to find where the dragon and its rider were camped at. He kept his head down and did his tasks quickly, knowing that Kjartan and Tekil were in rare form after the sight of a dragon flying over the fortress. The wooden walls could hold back a decent army, but they wouldn’t stand a chance against a dragon if it decided to attack.
The small scouting party left shortly afterward, the dust being stirred up as they made their way along the road with haste in the direction the scouts claimed the dragon flew from. Everyone was on edge, the arrival of the Westerosi royal could mean anything. Traveling merchants had spun tales of the conquest of Westeros, enrapturing Sihtric ever since he was a small boy and now, he may have to live those terrifying tales. He wasn’t sure what he would prefer, a fate to remain at the hands of his father or hope the dragon rider would show him more mercy than he’d known if conquest was their mission. He should’ve known better to put the choice to the Norns, because they always spin your fate in ways you wouldn’t expect.
They rode for a day, finding the camp with ease due to the size of it. After stashing the horses where they would camp for the night and finding a place to hide out and observe, Sihtric noticed the camp was a flurry of activity. There were people everywhere, men in metal suits wandering around while servants of all kinds hurried about to do their tasks. While the young Dane wouldn’t say it out loud, the sight of the three headed dragon banners fluttering around the camp and the idea they were spying on one of the more powerful and well known royal families deeply unsettled him, and he couldn’t foresee an outcome where they walked away with their lives.
The party made camp far from the royal retinue, Tekil and the older warriors coming up with a strategy to infiltrate the camp and learn what they could before heading back to Dunholm. Sihtric sat quietly, sharpening his axe as he listened to the words they spoke. Something in his gut told him they would have a much harder time blending into the crowd here, that this would not be a simple scouting mission. In the short time since he laid eyes on the encampment, the amount of armored and armed men patrolling the area was more than expected. This was no Saxon guard they were spying on, this was the Targaryen retinue, and there were easily more guards in this one’s household guard than all of Northumbria combined. He fell into an uneasy sleep, praying to the gods they would survive this endeavor.
Dawn came sooner than he would’ve liked, the small campsite packed quickly while Tekil pulled Sihtric off to the side and informed him what the plan was. He was to sneak into the camp while Tekil and the others caused a distraction, locate the command tent, find out who and why they were here, then meet the rest of the crew at the village a half day’s ride from there before they would all return home. If Sihtric was caught, he was to say nothing about why he was there and if he didn’t make it to the town before noon, they would leave him. A simple enough task, but one that had Sihtric nervous beyond belief.
Once Tekil’s distraction was in motion, a large smoke signal that sent just enough guards off to investigate, Sihtric was able to sneak in with relative ease. He slipped between the tents, steady avoiding those awake and working as the sun began to crest the horizon. He started to panic the longer he snuck around, walking deeper and deeper into the heart of the camp until he found the largest and fanciest tent. Assuming that was where he needed to look, he deftly slipped through the entrance, narrowly avoiding being seen by a large older man in the brightest armor Sihtric had ever laid eyes on.
The tent was separated into sections, a desk covered in correspondence and a plush sitting area in the front with wooden screen dividers hiding the big bed and a copper tub in the back. Sihtric stopped breathing for a moment, noticing that there looked to be a person asleep on the mattress and deciding to make it quick before he got caught. He carefully stepped towards the desk, suddenly very grateful that Tekil had made sure he could at least read or he would’ve been done for.
He quickly searched the mess of papers, locating a letter from the newly crowned King Guthred to a one King Maegor, talking about a potential marriage alliance with Maegor’s daughter, Princess Rhaenerys. While there was no mention as to what all the alliance would entail, there was a location for them to meet in person to discuss the details. Satisfied with the intel he collected, Sihtric stuffed the letter into his leathers just as the sleeping person started to stir. With the noises at the front of the tent getting louder, indicating the arrival of more people, he knew time was up and he needed to leave now.
Keeping himself pressed against the wall of the tent, Sihtric tiptoed past the divider and around the tub, keeping his eyes on the shifting form of the waking person. When they sat up, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, Sihtric nearly tripped over his own feet at the sight of the beautiful woman. Her long silver white hair was unbound, tumbling over her eyes as the silk sheet exposed her fair skin, covered by some fancy nightgown that he knew was not made in these lands. He knew he needed to keep moving, that Tekil was waiting for him and lingering here any longer was a death wish. As he reached for the opening at the back of the tent, his eyes locked with two deep purple ones, a confused look spreading across the young woman’s face. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, Sihtric’s heart beating rapidly within his chest as some strange feeling took hold of his heart in that moment.
He nodded once, before rushing out and not looking back, sneaking back through the camp before breaking into a run where his horse was. The journey to the rendezvous point went briskly, Sihtric’s mind a whirlwind as the adrenaline of being seen and seeing that stunning woman took over. He couldn’t explain it, but it was like something clicked into place for him. He had no words for his emotions, but they were stronger than ones he’d felt before. As he rode hard along the dusty road, he knew his fate had changed drastically.
Rhaenerys sat in her bed for a few moments, trying to determine if the strange, albeit handsome, man was another figment of her erratic dreams or if he had been real. Her ladies maids entered the tent, pulling her from her thoughts as their familiar voices filled the air. She could hear them talking about some false alarm the guards investigated around dawn, a fire having been set by some locals probably but it had the knights on edge now. Rhaenerys rolled her eyes and got ready for the day, the mismatched eyes she had seen never leaving her thoughts for long.
They looked familiar, reminding her of a wolf she used to dream about when she was younger. Once, her grandmother said that her dream was an omen, one that meant she would meet someone who embodied a duo eyed wolf and that she would know when the time was right. As cryptic and vague as that answer was when she was a child, she couldn’t help but think how correct it was in this moment. It meant he had been real and she wondered if their paths would cross again.
Her ladies finished dressing her in her riding leathers, tying the last knot when Rhaenerys noticed a letter missing from her desk. A wry smile formed on her lips, the knowledge that she would likely see that man again when she arrived in Cumberland to determine whether or not King Guthred was worthy of her hand, filling her with a new sense of determination. As she greeted the bustling camp and new day with a smile, ready to finish this long journey and discover that strangers place in her future.
Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @synintheraven
@zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @fallingintoyourlilaceyes
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟 ~
A Good Man | Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader. | NSFW. | 11 Parts | Complete.
A Good Man Alternative OC Verson | On-going. (only on Ao3).
River Of Sins | Finan x OFC x Osferth | NSFW.
𝕆𝕤𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙 ~
Fall From Grace | Osferth x Novice!Reader | Angst. SFW | DRABBLE.
𝕊𝕚𝕙𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔 ~
Indelicate Tenderness | Sihtric x Ealdorman's Wife!Reader | NSFW.| Complete.
𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕕 ~
The Gold Obsidian Collection | Sigefrid x OFC | NSFW. DUBCON. | Complete.
𝕌𝕙𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕕 ~
Uhtred x Fem!Reader | Drabble | WC:640 | NSFW.
𝔸𝕌'𝕊 -
Crimes Of Passion | Finan x OFC & Sihtric x OFC | NSFW. Smut. | Part 10 | Complete.
Fractured Moonlight | Vamp!Finan x Vamp!OFC | Angst. NSFW. Smut. | Ongoing.
#masterlist#the last kingdom fanfic#finan x reader#osferth x reader#sihtric x reader#sigefrid x oc#sihtric x oc#finan x oc
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Captive Part 3
Sihtric x OC
Authors note: the third part of the Captive. If you liked the story – give me a hint that you want it to continue and what you would like to happen next. I have too many endings in my mind and can’t decide.
Summary: Sihtric is sent to Heasten’s camp to spy and discovers the Danes have a captive – young Saxon girl he just can’t leave to her fate.
Word Count: 1,536
Part 1 , Part 2. Part 3, Part 4
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sihtric knew that the only way to escape the pursuers was to keep moving as fast as they can. There was no time for rest. The Danes will discover Elfflead missing first thing in the morning and the great hunt will start. But they were slow, too slow to make real use of the advantage in time they had. Elfflead stumbled, she was tired and out of breath. Her grip on Sihtric’s hand was getting desperate as she struggled to keep up with his pace.
“I can’t anymore,” she breathed heavily and stopped.
“We can’t stop now. We are close,” Sihtric was determined not to let her rest.
“Close to what?” Elfflead was surprised.
“To the cave I spent the night in on the way here,” Sihtric explained, “But first we must go up that small stream, it will conceal our trace and it is just the opposite direction they will expect us to go. Common, lady, we must move on,” Sihtric commanded and gripped Elfflead’s hand tightly.
---------------------------------------------------------
It was evening again when they reached the cave. Its entrance was concealed by a curtain of ivy and moss. Sihtric carefully pulled them aside and waived to Elfflead to enter it, he followed and let the green curtain to slip back in its place. As they ventured deeper, a hidden expanse unfolded, revealing a cavern spacious enough to provide shelter. Shafts of dim light pierced through narrow crevices in the rock, casting strange glow and shadows upon the chamber's interior. The cavern's floor was carpeted with a bed of moss and soft earth and in the heart of the cave, a natural recess provided a small alcove, just large enough to accommodate a fire.
Sihtric spread his fur coat on the ground and gestured to Elfflead to sit down.
“You must rest, lady. We are safe here and you will need all your strength tomorrow again,” he insisted, “I will make the fire.”
Elfflead curled herself on the coat, but sleep was evading her, and she kept looking over to Sihtric who was sitting on the ground by the fire.
Sihtric did not want to look at Elfflead. He did not know what to do with this girl he had so foolishly rescued without any plan on how to fulfil his promise to lead her to safety. And gods… he wanted to keep that promise more than anything. He could feel her gaze on his back, he knew she did not sleep, and so he turned. She was sitting embracing her knees. Their eyes met for a moment before Elfflead turned ger gaze down to the ground before her feet, her delicate frame trembling with a mixture of fear and exhaustion.
“Sihtric,” she lifted her head and locked her eyes with Sihtric’s, her voice barely above a whisper quivered with desperation, "please don't leave me. I know I'm slowing you down. But there is no way I could survive here without you.”
Sihtric gazed into Elfflead’s eyes. Despair in her voice tugged at his very core and the fragility of her beauty made him almost speechless. He stood up, went towards her, and lowered himself beside her leaning his back against the cave’s walls. He placed his arms around her, pulling her closer. Elfflead stiffened. She had never been so close to any man before in her whole life. It felt so wrong and at the same time so good to be hold by his strong arms and a moment later she relaxed, lowered her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She felt safe although her common sense was telling her that this feeling was completely irrational, even mad.
Sihtric sighed, the smell of her hair and the touch of her head leaning on his shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.
"Lady Elfflead," Sihtric whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "I could never leave you behind. You are not a burden to me, and you can never be."
Sihtric gently touched her chin with his rough fingers and lifted her face to be able to look into her eyes. Sihtric leaned closer, his voice laced with sincerity. "I have probably gone mad, but you fill me with feelings I never knew existed.”
Tears welled up in Elfflead's eyes, reflecting the wavering firelight and Sihtric was completely smitten by her beauty. All their journey long Sihtric had been trying to suppress the feelings that were kindling in him since the very moment he entered that tent and saw Elfflead for the very first time. It was madness and it was hopeless. He was a Dane and a warrior. There was nothing he could offer to a high-born lady from the richest and powerful house in the whole Mercien. And there was absolutely nothing that could attract such a lady to him. But there he was holding her in his arms and unable to hold back any longer he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Elfflead's.
It seemed to Elfflead that the air between them had suddenly become charged with an electrifying anticipation. Sihtric’s lips felt so hot on hers. Without even thinking what she was doing, Elfflead kissed him back. Sihtric pulled back with a look of disbelief on his face and his hands trembled as he gently cradled Elfflead's delicate face, his fingers grazing the contours of her cheek. Sihtric leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, and their mouths melded together again, each tender touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through their veins. Sihtric groaned and his lips went exploring the curves of Elfflead's neck and shoulders down to her collarbone. Sihtric wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight and pulling her closer with a strength that conveyed both protection and longing. Sihtric's lips were back on Elfflead’s and his tongue gently sought entry in her mouth, which she granted him with a soft gasp of pleasure. Slowly and gently, he lowered her on his fur coat and while his tongue continued to explore Elfflead’s mouth, his rough warrior hands were brushing her breasts and slipping down to her waist and then to her thighs.
Elfflead’s head was spinning, and her heart raced at such a speed that she thought it must jump out of her breast. Each kiss and each touch were sending waves of pleasure all over her body. Sihtric’s hand that had reached her thigh was now pushing up her dress while his hot lips ventured again to her neck, then down to her collarbone and further down to her breasts. His hand had finally found its way under her dress, and she gasped when he touched her bare skin on her thigh and moved his hand to her bottom. Elfflead was melting in his grip, she had closed her eyes and her fingers were tangling and twisting his long, thick, and curly hair. She stiffened a bit embarrassed that she had no idea how to respond to Sihtric’s touch, how to show him that she wanted him to continue and that she was ready for whatever this man would do with her. In this very moment Sihtric suddenly froze, his left hand was still holding her butt, but in the next second he had withdrawn it and placed on her cheek holding her face firmly and making her to look straight into his eyes.
“Lady,” he spoke his voice hoarse and carrying a hint of sudden realisation, “have you ever been with a man before?”
Elfflead was unable to say anything. She was staring in Sihtric’s eyes and felt tears welling up in hers. She shook her head and in the very same moment Sihtric let go of her and withdraw from their embrace.
“No, no… I am so sorry. Please don’t go away,” she prayed.
“You are sorry? For what?” Sihtric asked in confusion.
“I don’t know how to please a man,” she was whispering with her cheeks blushing and her gaze turned to the ground.
Sihtric was looking at her in disbelief. He sighed and leaned closer to Elfflead just to put a kiss on her forehead.
“You silly girl!” he exclaimed with astonishment, “Fuck, I am such a fool! I should have thought about that before... I can’t do this, lady! I can’t use your fear and desperation, not in this way. I could never forgive myself if I did.”
“But, Sihtric, no ... I want this. Yes, it is my first time ever, but I want this. Not because I am afraid of you leaving me. Don’t think so. I have never felt safer in my whole life than in the moment you were holding me. I want this, I really do…” Elfflead was almost begging, but Sihtric had already gotten up.
“Lady, I promise I will get us out of here and bring you to safety. And then you can decide whether you really want something from me or not,” Sihtric’s voice was full of determination. It took him all his inner strength to turn away and to go to the small fireplace. He did not look back being afraid that if he had he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“Sleep, lady! I will keep the watch.”
#Sihtric#Sihtric Kjartansson#the last kingdom#arnas fedaravicius#tlk#tlk fics#Sihtric x oc#Sihtric fanfics
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Dragon of Valhalla
An Assassin's Creed Valhalla x The Last Kingdom x House of the Dragon crossover.
AN: Thank you to Foxy ( foxyanon ) for your wonderful counsel in Nordic traditions and Norse Paganism. I am slowly putting together/converging the timelines and storylines from The Last Kingdom and Assassin's Creed Valhalla, as well as figuring out the way each loreset works with each other and how I need to adjust them.
CW: Violence, language, talk of divinity, heavy religious themes, war between Saxons and Danes so there will be religion based violence and hatred from both sides, unrequited love, obsessions, soul mates, divine intervention
Pairings: Anya the Ashen x Sihtric Kjartansson, Anya the Ashen x Aemond Targaryen, Eivor Varinsdottir x Hytham of the Hidden Ones
Anya the Ashen
Face Claims
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
#dragon of valhalla#assassin's creed valhalla oc#assassin's creed valhalla#the last kingdom oc#the last kingdom#house of the dragon oc#house of the dragon#anya the ashen#sihtric x oc#sihtric kjartansson#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x oc
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐖𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐰𝐲𝐧𝐧❟ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞❟ ❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 ❞
𖦹. 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ₊̇*⸼ Wulfwynn wouldn't have believed it if someone had told her that her greatest loss would bring her her greatest joy.
𖦹. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 *𖧧₊‧ It has been days and days. But Wulfwynn kept fleeing and hiding. Until she stumbled upon her saviours, in depths of the woods.
𖦹. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 ₊̇*⸼ Finan x Wulfwynn of Northumbria (Original Female Character) x Sihtric Kjartansson, Finan x Wulfwynn of Northumbria (Original Female Character) x Sihtric Kjartansson x Uhtred of Bebbanburg, Finan x Wulfwynn of Northumbria (Original Female Character), Sihtric Kjartansson x Wulfwynn of Northumbria (Original Female Character), Uhtred of Bebbanburg x Wulfwynn of Northumbria (Original Female Character), Osferth x Ealhflæd of Cent (Original Female Character), Leofric x Mereswyth of Wessex (Original Female Character).
𖦹. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 *𖧧₊‧ Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Show Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Not Show Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Show Rewrite, Show Dialogues, Canonical Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Multiple Graphic Descriptions of Wounds, Multiple Graphic Descriptions of Battles And Post-Battles, Blood On Several Occasions, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Burn, Sexual Content, Mild-Sexual Content, Multiple Graphic Smuts (Ratings Specified In Concerned Chapters), Multiple Non-Graphic Smuts, Protective Finan, Possessive Finan, Finan Needs A Hug, Finan Backstory, Protective Sihtric, Jealous Sihtric, Adorable Sihtric, Sihtric Backstory, Protective Uhtred, Uhtred Is A Little Shit, Soft Osferth, Adorable Osferth, Osferth Backstory, Leofric Lives, Clapa Lives.
𖦹. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 *𖧧₊‧ Mild-Graphic Description of Bruises And Injuries.
𖦹. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ₊̇*⸼ 2,912k.
𖦹. 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 *𖧧₊‧ 892-895 AD ⵓ 6th November 892 AD - 9th November 892 AD ⨾ Uhtred is 34-37 yo ⨾ Finan is 37-40 yo ⨾ Sihtric is 24-27 yo ⨾ Clapa is 43-44 yo ⨾ Osferth is 29-32 yo ⨾ Wulfwynn is 18-21 yo.
THE VODKAS MENU. + THE SERIE MENU. + CHAPTER TWO. + Archive Of Our Own.
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN CIPPANHAMM AND MELKSHAMM, WESSEX, 892 AD.
Fear. Dread . It crept its way into the heart, maliciously, viciously, its hideous claws jagged, and hooked, burrowing in its throbbing flesh. It gnawed venomously into the guts, tangled into hundreds of hundreds of tightly knitted knots. It crawled malevolently into the lungs, its coarse scales scraping, and into the throat, its rugged tongue scratching. It soaked bitterly into the bones, into the marrow, cold, terribly cold.
Wulfwynn was devoured with fear. Wrecked with dread. She felt the ache in her limbs, the burn in her lungs. She felt the cold whipping at the crusted scratches that littered her knuckles, her palms, her knees and her muddy heels. She felt the soreness of the swelled bruises that dotted her thighs, her arms and her wrists, her neck and her ankles, and her cheeks. They scattered across her body, mingled with her freckled flesh, scarlet and maroon, melded with her delicate moles, purply and olive.
Wulfwynn felt utterly terrified.
Twiddled branches and tangled roots scrapped at her calves and knees as she delved into the depths of the woods. Breathy sobs escaped her chapped lips, while the cold that chilled her lungs licked at the salty tears that soaked her cheeks. The writhed birches swallowed the misty, gloomy skies, engulfed the pallid gleam that shimmered between their leaves. And they’d swallow Wulfwynn too. They'd swallow her whimpers, and they'd choke her with their branches, they’d throttle her with their roots—
Wulfwynn sobbed panickedly, as she whisked hurriedly between the pines and the bushes, her heart onto her tongue.
They’d scratch, and scrape, and rasp, and snarl and sneer and—
A strangled yelp choked in her throat as she stumbled onto a root. She swayed abruptly and fell. Whimpers and whines of throbbing anguish and nauseous panic swirled through the cinnamon and crimson leaves that twirled around Wulfwynn as she hurtled down the muddy hill. And she gasped breathlessly as she slammed into a thick trunk.
Wulfwynn clutched the bark, chafing her fingers, and wobbled, then rose quiveringly, but rose nonetheless, before her heel slipped in the mud and she tumbled again. She grunted as she fell, and fell, and fell, down the hill, down, down, until she landed into the dirt. Wulfwynn laid into the leaves and the dirt, perhaps an eternity, perhaps an instant, furled and shuddering, her heart throbbing into her temples and her knees and elbows aching.
But, though she struggled, arose onto her palms. Bitter tears fell from her reddened cheeks, from her chin, onto her scratched, scarred fingers and between her knuckles. And then, a shout resonated through the pines,
“Lord !”
Fear gripped at Wulfwynn’s heart with it crooked claws. She fumbled panickedly with her kirtles and skirts, shuffled and tumbled, and wobblily arose, but fell onto her knees with a frustrated whine. She huffed shakily.
“Lord !” Wulfwynn prayed. She prayed fervently, as the worried yell swivelled in the chilly whiff. “Are ye— Are ye alright?” She’d have chuckled, but Wulfwynn merely sobbed. “Ye’re— Uhtred !”
She peered hesitantly and her glance landed onto the cross that dangled before her teary eyes. A heavy huff tickled her cheek.
“Ye’re alright, lass, ye’re alright,” He murmured quietly as he knelt. She felt his pity, his gentleness and his kindheartedness, and she sniffled. Her heart swelled. “Ye’ll be alright, I promise.”
Wulfwynn nodded meekly. His soft promise poured onto her sore scratches and scrapes, syrupy and smooth and warm. Her heart seared with a sour tincture of gratitude and lament, with a driblet of reassurance and a splatter of solace. Her glance anchored into umber orbs, tinged with warmth and kindness, and worry.
“Finan.” A whistle tickled Wulfwynn's guts. “ Finan !”
“Lord,” Finan startled, as he leapt onto his muddy boots. Wulfwynn shivered as the chill tickled at her neck. "She's hurt, Lord."
“Hurt?” The Lord —Uhtred, she assumed— inquired, with doubt and incertitude. And a tinge of scepticism. “Quite hurt.” Finan affirmed, and nodded.
A chiffchaff chirped. “Lord?” Queried a soft murmur. “She indeed seems quite unwell.”
The Lord’s glance landed unto the salty tears that streaked her cheeks, unto her bruises, and her scratches and scrapes, and she felt oddly, yet agreeably, absorbed into the frosty depths her eyes plunged into. His stare felt cold, but she embraced that cold. She felt queerly reassured, comforted, shrouded into that cold. The Lord hummed quietly. And nodded. Wulfwynn huffed a breath of relief.
Finan knelt beside her, his knees in the mud, and she felt his warmth caress her as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Wulfwynn grabbed her tattered kirtles, and Finan muttered, “ Jesus .” as he glanced at her legs. She grasped his hand, hers frail and fragile in his callused palm. She grunted with anguish, as she struggled to arise, but her knees buckled.
Finan's hold tightened, "Gently, gently." he reassured her softly, "Osferth!" he beckoned with a whistle and a nod. Saddle buckles rattled, leaves rustled and an arm slithered across her back. “Apologies, Lady.” and Wulfwynn uttered a quavery huff.
“Gently.” Finan repeated as Wulfwynn arose slowly. “Alright. We’ll get ye onto Sihtric’s horse.”
Osferth nodded. He gently took ahold of her elbow, and they strode to the horses. They approached Sihtric’s horse, and Wulfwynn glanced at the silhouette sat astride its saddle, shrouded in furs, as Sihtric’s stare anchored into hers. She felt Finan’s warmth fade when he stepped back and unbuckled his cloak's buckle, before he wrapped the warm, woollen garment around Wulfwynn’s shuddery shoulders.
“It’ll keep ye warm.” Finan murmured as he tucked the hood on Wulfwynn's messy, tousled curls and tresses. “Ye’ll ride with Sihtric. Alright?”
She nodded. Finan approached the horse and leaned down. He cupped his callused hands, fingers knotted, and Wulfwynn grasped his arm as she hesitantly placed her heel in his palm. "Alright. I'll hoist ye there and Sihtric will get ye, huh?" Wulfwynn hummed and, quite facilely, Finan lifted her. She gracelessly threw her leg across the saddle and, as he told her, Sihtric grabbed her. “Ye’re good?”
“Good.” Wulfwynn muttered with a nod. Finan’s eyes widened at the hoarseness of her mutter but he nodded nonetheless.
He and Osferth hopped back onto their horses. Wulfwynn fidgeted a bit, and grabbed Sihtric's thick, woolly ebony mantle with her fingertips. But he felt it and turned, and gently grasped her wrist before he wrapped it across his chest.
Wulfwynn jolted when he softly spoke, “You may hold on.” And, although timidly, Wulfwynn slipped her arms around Sihtric’s waist. Her fingers gripped the crisscrossed leather of his cotte, and her fingertips stroked the fur that flanked its edges. The scents of cinders and smoke, of dust and caked mud and hay tickled her nostrils. Yet she felt oddly soothed as she faintly breathed into the heavy wool.
“We ride!” then hailed Uhtred.
Wulfwynn’s legs dangled from the horse’s rump, and swayed slightly with his sturdy strides. The muffled thud of hooves as they rustled dead leaves, the snorts of the horses, the chirps of the birds and the warmth of Sihtric's furs cradled Wulfwynn. And slowly, as she fell into slumber, her head lolled and bobbed, and then, settled between Sihtric's shoulders.
And Wulfwynn slept, as much as she hadn't slept in weeks.
₊‧𒀭⋆₊
The noisy hustle and bustle of Wintanceaster was quite pleasant. With the yells of its merchants, as they tempted the villagers with their trouts and lampreys, their hot loaves of oat breads, their goat cheeses, and their turnips and parsnips, and their pears. The bright, merry talks of the villagers. The jolly chuckles and giggles of the children.
Wintanceaster was noisy and Finan basked in its noisiness.
He particularly appreciated this noisiness, as it differed considerably from the howls and yells that engulfed the field. As well as the smells. The scents of mud sodden, thickened with blood, of tangy sweat and barf were, at Wintanceaster, the scents of roasted pork and latterly brewed barley ale that wafted from the taverns.
Yet, this bustle hadn't awakened the lass, whose scratched and scraped arms were wrapped across Sihtric's chest, and whose reddened, bruised cheek was squooshed against his back, although she was shrouded with Finan’s hood. But Sihtric wasn’t bothered in the least.
“We'll take her to mine." declared Finan, as they strided towards the stables.
A snort. "Really? Huh." Clapa chuckled wickedly. He glared at the Dane. "Well, we're not gonna get her to yers, are we?" Finan retorted.
“He’d frighten her.” Uhtred sniggered, as he glanced at the giant. Clapa smirked.
“Frighten her? I’m but meek, sweet and gentle as a lamb, Lord.” He protested, and Uhtred chuckled, “Huh-uh.”
They approached the stables and alighted from their steeds. Finan felt the soreness in his legs as he neared Sihtric’s horse. He nodded towards Clapa, “Can ye take her?” and the Dane contourned the horse. He held his arms towards the lass, and Sihtric gently peeled her hands from the crisscrosses of his cotte, before Clapa slithered an arm across her back, as she slipped into his arms, and then slithered a hand beneath her legs. “I’ve got her.”
"Alright." Finan nodded. The muddy strands of straw of the stables crumpled beneath the soles of Sihtric's boots, when he leaped from his horse.
The lass’ forehead was nestled in Clapa’s neck, and the hood had flopped back a tad from her head. Finan’s glance fell onto the maroon and olive bruises that dotted her cheeks and chin, the scarlet slit that carved in the slope of her nose and the split etched into her plump, chapped lip.
He then turned to Osferth, “We’ll need yer balms and herbs.”
“Aye.” he nodded and hurried to fetch the leather satchel on his saddle.
They then took her to Finan's. He didn't quite considered it— well, considered it what? A haven? His? His haven? Nah, his haven was Coccham. This was but a humble, wooden hut, scarcely adorned, with a bed padded with straw and wool, draped with a few woollen and linen pillows and blankets, and a few furs. A table, scattered with bowls, melted candles and a hutch of trinkets, stood in the corner, with three stools. Light linen sheers flanked the walls, near the bed, while a wooden chest sat beside it, and a bench stood in the corner, near the entrance.
Clapa settled the lass onto the bed, with greater gentleness than Finan had hoped, and, with care, Finan unbuckled the buckle of his coat and slipped the wool from the lass' frail, delicate silhouette, before Clapa laid her tousled head onto the pillows.
“‘Tis still as modest as it was the last I was here.” enthused Uhtred, as he entered the hut with Osferth and Sihtric.
Finan stared at the lass an instant, and then turned to Osferth. He startled and hurried to the table and, amongst the wooden bowls, grabbed the dusty pestle and mortar. He then brought the herbs onto the table from his satchel, and glanced at the sleeper before he took the yarrow.
They stared quietly at the monk, as he grabbed the pestle and mashed the dried yarrow into the mortar. He then grabbed a bowl and poured a quaff of his gourd, and sprinkled the dried plant. Osferth then took the bowl and told Finan, “It’ll soothe her body.”
Finan took the bowl and nodded. Softly, he knelt onto the bed's edge, and slowly tickled the beverage between the lass' chapped lips.
“Then?” Sihtric queried as he neared the table. Osferth took the bowl back. "Then," he mumbled, as he tossed plants in the wooden bowl, and took the pestle, "I'll tend to those scrapes and scratches with chamomile," he grimaced, as though he was scraped and scratched, "and soothe her bruises with nettle."
Sihtric glanced at the lass and the frown between her brows. And a tinge of concern tickled his chest. Osferth grinded the chamomile and the nettle in the bowl, and then poured a quaff, “She’ll heal.” he assured, as he approached the bed and settled on the edge.
“But she’ll need a while. She’s quite enfeebled.” he murmured softly, and placed the bowl onto the woollen blankets. “But she’ll heal.”
₊‧𒀭⋆₊
Wulfwynn felt cradled.
Shrouded in the softness of the wool of Cynefrith's sleeves across her hips, and swaddled in the warmth of Eadgyth's skirts and kirtles, her legs entangled with hers. She felt utterly well.
She hadn’t felt well in quite a while. But between Cynefrith and Eadgyth, she felt soothed.
Yet, Wulfwynn stirred in her slumber. She nestled her nose in Eadgyth's tangled and tousled tresses, and hummed with contentment when the scents of chamomile tickled her nostrils. She felt Cynefrith’s gentle breath tickle the back of her neck.
Wulfwynn sighed with delight. She laced her fingers with Cynefrith’s, and Eadgyth wrapped her arm around them, and cuddled them.
And an ache clutched at her chest.
Wulfwynn’s brows furrowed. She huddled and clutched Cynefrith's lithe fingers, and snuggled into Eadgyth's neck. But she gasped as her chest tightened.
And she sobbed. Whiffs of cinders and embers, of nettle and of dust swamped her nostrils and tickled her guts. She sobbed, and sobbed, as the ache clawed at her heart.
Sleep left her, slowly, so slowly it felt an eternity.
Her sight remained blurred a moment before she discerned the shutters, and the pale gleams of the morn that crept between them. Then she glanced beside her. But Eadgyth wasn't there. And when she turned and peered above her shoulder, Cynefrith wasn't there either. And then, she remembered.
The yells, the tears. The lake. The sobs, the pleas. The plains. The blood.
Cynefrith wasn’t there.
Eadgyth wasn’t there.
They weren’t here.
Wulfwynn whimpered. There was neither Eadgyth nor Cynefrith. There weren't their embraces, merely linen blankets and furs. There wasn't their warmth, just a woollen and straw mattress. They weren't there.
She sobbed, her hands clutched at her chest. She sobbed, her scraped and scratched knees beneath her chin. She sobbed, muffled into the blankets. She didn't hear the squeak of the wooden door and the creak of the boots onto the floorboards.
“Lass?”
Wulfwynn perked and winced. "Ye're awake, at last." Finan huffed, as the concern that etched his face melted into relief. Wulfwynn's tears trickled from her cheeks and wetted the blankets. Finan approached the bed.
“Ye’re alright, lass. Ye’re alright.” he reassured her. But Wulfwynn wasn’t alright.
Her lips quivered, “I,” she huffed quietly, feebly, “I fled, but I—” and faltered, “I fled,”
“Hey, hey,” Finan neared her, and she felt her heart thump, "I— I fled but I—" she sobbed, "But—" And Finan gently seated at the bed's edge, “Hey, ye’re alright, lass, ye’re alright.” he repeated. “Ye’re fine,” he murmured softly.
Alright. She was alright. Wulfwynn nodded. Was she alright? She wasn’t quite. But she nodded nonetheless. Her sobs ebbed. She felt, as she had felt with Uhtred, oddly, yet agreeably, comforted and reassured when her eyes anchored into Finan’s. But she felt terribly feeble too. And sore.
“Ye shouldn't tire yerself too much. Ye're still weak and ye haven't eaten yet.” he uttered prudently, as though he feared he might frighten her. “Ye’ve slept quite a bit and Osferth has tended to yer,” he swallowed, “wounds.”
Wulfwynn glanced down at her hands, wrapped in thin strips of linen, folded around her thumbs and knotted in the crook of her palms. The whiffs of chamomile and nettle wafted to her nose when she wiggled her fingers. She noticed she was no longer garbed in her shredded skirts and kirtles, drenched with sweat, sullied with guts and smeared with mud and dust, but a linen shift that smelt of sage. Hence why she had felt so comfortable in her slumber. And she frowned. If she’d been changed, then had they—
“We haven’t.” Finan assured, halting her thoughts, as though he knew what she was wondering. “Osferth merely tended to the wounds on yer arms and legs. Yer virtue is untarnished. Lord Uhtred's sister and Abbess Hild tended to those he couldn't. And then changed ye.”
She nodded shyly. “W-Where,” she licked her lips, “Where are we?”
“Wintanceaster, Lady.”
He stood from the bed and went to the table, in the corner, where there were three stools and, scattered onto the table, dusty baubles and wooden plates, bowls and cups. “Have I,” she straightened slightly and grimaced, “H-Have slept long?”
He picked a goblet and grabbed the jug, near a plate in which there were the scraps of a meal. Wulfwynn then wondered if they had remained there while she slept. “About three days. Since we arrived.”
“Oh.” she murmured. Finan returned to the bed and handed her the goblet. She whispered her thanks, and wondered if he had heard her, but as he nodded, she thought he must have. She took a sip and felt the soreness of her throat.
Then her stomach rumbled.
Her cheeks dusted with embarrassment and she coughed. She hadn't eaten but a few berries in days, and hadn't eaten aught but stale bread in weeks. The mere sight of the scraps of a meal had her stomach growl.
"Ye must be famished." Finan frowned, as if concerned. He then nodded, as though approving a thought he'd just had. "Alright. I'll get Hild fer ye and we'll take ye to the tavern. I'll be quick."
He then turned on his heels and strode out of the hut.
CHAPTER TWO. + Archive Of Our Own.
©TheThyri. All rights content belong to @thethyri. Do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works in any way or on any other platform without my permission. Gifs rightfully belong to @dailytlk.
#˗ˏˋ — the vodkas.🍷#˗ˏˋ — the tales of wulfwynn. ☄️#the last kingdom fic#tlk fic#the last kingdom fanfic#tlk fanfic#the last kingdom fanfiction#tlk fanfiction#the last kingdom x oc#tlk x oc#finan fic#finan fanfic#finan fanfiction#finan x oc#sihtric fic#sihtric fanfic#sihtric fanfiction#sihtric x oc#uhtred fic#uhtred fanfic#uhtred fanfiction#uhtred x oc#the last kingdom oc#tlk oc
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
PETRICHOR | sihtric x oc | part one
The Last Kingdom
Sihtric x f!oc
Season 2-?
Updated every Tuesday and Friday
Cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3
part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine part ten part eleven part twelve part thirteen
1. the beginning
Ghylena was exhausted. Her hunting had been poor that day, and with only a few measly rabbits to show for her efforts, she was in a surly mood. She had been up since dawn and riding for hours to find her desired prey, and yet still no sign of the elusive stag.
Sliding from her saddle, she dropped to the ground with aching joints and a tired bow arm. Patting her horse, she led him to the stables that sat behind the nunnery’s hall.
“Alright Shaeda, let’s get you some food and water, huh boy?”
Ghylena and her elder sister Gisela had been in hiding at the convent for months now, shielding themselves from their brother the King.
Some months ago he had sold their friend and ally Uhtred of Bebbanburg into slavery, leaving Gisela and Ghylena unprotected from being sold as brides against their wishes.
Not only had they left Eoferwic behind in the hopes that Uhtred would one day be found by Hild and return, but Ghylena had been separated from her friend Sihtric; ever since he had sworn himself to Uhtred, Ghylena had persuaded Sihtric into teaching her how to fight with a sword.
Each day, without fail, they had trained together- starting first with daggers and knife-throwing before moving on to swordplay.
At first he had seemed unsure of her, seeking Uhtred’s permission on whether he was even allowed to be teaching her, but Gisela had already spoken with Uhtred about it, and Sihtric was reassured.
After that, a close friendship soon formed between them, one that led to knowing smiles between Uhtred and Gisela, and a constant stream of teasing from Hild and Halig.
“Ghylena!” One of the younger nuns came running towards her as she settled Shaeda into the stables, “My Lady, come quick! The Abbot- he has come for you and the Lady Gisela!”
Suddenly alert and afraid, Ghlyena took her bow in hand before moving to dash into the hall behind the nun. Her heart was thumping inside her chest, feet slamming against the ground as she desperately ran to save her sister.
Bursting through the side door to the hall, Ghylena notched an arrow and drew her bowstring, aiming for the Lord Abbot as she yelled her threat: “Stop! Abbot, you have no right!”
“Lena! Run!” Gisela was held tight by two men, thrashing in their arms to be free as she begged her sister to save herself, “Run!”
Unfazed by the young woman’s threat, the weaselly holy-man simply sneering as he continued: “I hereby proclaim Lady Gisela of Cumbr-“
Ghylena let her arrow fly, hitting one of the holy men who held Gisela tight, before drawing another arrow, growling “A warning! Do not think I will not kill you Abbot! Let my sister go!”
The injured priest wailed in pain as he clutched his shoulder, Lena’s arrow protruding from it as blood seeped into his robes, yet still the Abbot only spoke faster.
“-Gisela of Cumbraland, and Lord Aelfric of Bebbanburg to be man and wife!” His ratty voice rushed out, finishing the proclamation before the doors to the hall once again burst open and Uhtred and his men marched in.
Everything after that moved quickly, with Ghylena relaxing her bow and moving to pull Gisela to her side, standing behind Hild. When Uhtred killed the Abbot for his insistence that Gisela was indeed married, Ghylena felt only relief.
This disaster was over, Uhtred had returned, and Ghylena could finally return to Eoferwic to see Sihtric.
She had missed him fiercely in their time apart; longing for the feel of his calloused hands as he corrected her form in training, the admiring gleam in his mismatched eyes as she returned through the gates from a successful hunt, and the soft peace they shared during the evenings spent drinking ale with Hild, Clapa and Halig, (Uhtred and Gisela often being too busy with each other to join their companions).
When they finally did return to Eoferwic, with Uhtred now married to Gisela- and after far too many detours through Loidis, and Erik and Siegfried’s camp- Ghylena was antsy.
Entering through the gates atop Shaeda, she couldn’t seem to sit still in her saddle, her stomach twisting with nerves and excitement as she looked through the crowds gathering, searching for a certain Dane with braided hair and muscled arms.
Hild seemed all too entertained by Ghylena’s obvious intentions, “He’ll be here, Ghylena. He swore to stay in Eoferwic and keep an eye on the King until we returned. I’m sure you will be reunited with him soon enough.”
Turning to look at her friend, Ghylena felt her face flush, “So long as he agrees to continue training me, then I will be happy, Hild. That’s all I want from him.”
Hild breathed a laugh, “Of course, My Lady. You want him to teach you. That is all, I’m sure.”
Huffing at Hild’s teasing, Ghylena pulled at Shaeda’s reins, intent on leaving her horse at the stables as she searched for Sihtric. “I will hear no more of your taunting, Hild. I am going to find my friend. Make sure Uhtred doesn’t start a war whilst I’m away.”
“I make no promises.”
<>
Later that evening, after jumping at Sihtric in a hug when she had found him at the blacksmith’s, Ghylena was sat beside him at a table with Clapa and the Irishman, Finan. She found herself unable to focus on the debate of who should take Dunholm once they seized it, and of whether or not to kill Guthred, (she found herself uncaring at whether her shit stain of a brother lived or died).
Instead of listening to the conversations occurring around her, all Ghylena could focus on was the warm presence of Sihtric beside her, and the comforting feel of his bare arm pressed against hers. Each time she looked up from her food and ale, she would find herself stealing glances at him, and hiding a smile whenever she caught him doing the same.
Hild watched their childish antics from the other table, but shook her head and said nothing, content to let them enjoy their strange dance.
When the aforementioned arseling she defied to call brother called out to Uhtred, pleading to speak with him, Ghylena felt her back grow stiff, her jaw locking as she froze in anger.
She stood up suddenly, shaking Sihtric’s hand from her arm and pacing over to the pair of men, unsure of what she was planning to do, only knowing that she needed to confront the man who had caused her so much pain.
“…in my defense, I was meant to kill you.” Guthred continued talking to Uhtred as his eyes flicked over to Lena and back again, “I- I spared your life—“
A resounding slap echoed around the yard, and Ghylena’s hand stung when she hissed at him, “You sold him as a slave, you killed Halig, and you hunted your own sisters down to be married against our wishes. You are no man, no brother of mine, and no King- only a milky turd who was squeezed out the arse of a goat.”
Uhtred took his sister-in-law’s hand once she was done speaking, the rest of their company shocked into silence at her display, and she settled back into her seat beside Sihtric. The Dane beside her was grinning- his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter- and when he took her hand in his, she found herself feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.
Guthred seemed unable to look at her now, continuing instead to talk to Uhtred and the night soon passed once he left again.
Days later, Uhtred’s company left for Dunholm, and with no regret at leaving her past life behind, Ghylena followed her new brother, Uhtred, to Dunholm. She would make herself useful as an archer for now, but her skill with a blade had greatly improved, and someday she swore she would become a warrior.
If her being a warrior and learning to fight meant more time spent with Sihtric, then more the better- a happy addition to her plan. And most definitely not one of her biggest motivations. Not at all.
Ghylena was tired of leaving her fate in the hands of a man, no— this, this was for her, and her alone. Her friendship with Sihtric must simply be the Gods’ plan for her, and who was she to defy the Gods?
-> up next: '3 years later'...
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
New masterlist
Masterlist
House of the Dragon
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
The Last Kingdom
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
Current WIPS
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
Lockwood and Co
- I thought I dreamed her
On their latest mission yet, the ghost takes a special interest in Lockwood and it is up to Lucy to bring him back to reality.
- I love you forever (I'm not a dreamer)
Lucy and Lockwood’s first date and first kiss
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
Criminal Minds
- Steady Your Heart in Mine (Spencer Reid)
Exam season brings you a lot of stress and Spencer Reid is there to walk you through it.
#Aemond x Reader#Aemond x OC#house of the dragon#the last kingdom#sihtric kjartansson#sihtric x reader#finan#osferth#uhtred#tlk alfred#aethelflaed#uhtred x reader#uhtred x aethelflaed#finan x reader#sihtric x oc#osferth x reader#tlk uhtred#tlk aethelflaed#tlkedit#tlk finan#tlk sihtric#tlk osferth#hotd#rhaenyra targaryen#Daemon Targaryen#daemyra#daemon x rhaenyra#aemond targaryen#lucerys velaryon#Jacaerys Velaryon
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Last Kingdom Masterlist:
Finan Masterlist
Sihtric Masterlist
#masterlist#the last kingdom#tlk#finan#finan the agile#finan x eadith#finan x oc#finan x reader#sihtric#sihtric kjartanson#sihtric x reader#sihtric x oc
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
paper heart | sihtric
author's note: just a little something i had in my back pocket for a while - a kind of fluff(?) simple one-chaptered modern!sihtric fic. thank you to @itbmojojoejo for being my second pair of eyes 😘 Hope you will enjoy :) happy holidays! lots of love & stay safe 💕
The room was bland; the walls were painted white, a soft gloss apparent, and the fluorescent light shone with grip from the ceiling. The only window present was held with bars, offering a mundane view of the empty yard.
Where she sat, patiently waiting, she stared at the clock - round and intimidating, the numbers carved in rotation as the needles made passage with every dropped second.
She took in a deep breath, her presence at the back of the room forgotten while her eyes settled on the four bodies that sat on the other side, papers and pens resting on the table in front of them.
They were quiet, waiting.
Her gaze then shifted to the guard standing alert at the door, the entrance closed.
She had been waiting for this day for weeks, having first known about it when the letter came into the mail; the header had caught her off-guard, the content of the invitation surprising.
She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened where the guard held the knob, pulling it over towards him to let the newcomer in.
He walked in quietly, chained from his wrists to his waist down his ankles.
He looked around the room, no words yet escaping him; his gaze caught sight of the parole board sitting at the front of the room, the barred window, the ceiling light - the bulb almost blinding him - and then, his eyes settled on an unknown female figure.
She met his stare, her heart’s beat increasing bit by bit with every ticked second. She grew anxious, her fingers fidgeting on her lap against the fabric of scarf. She then ran them through her hair - freshly cut - as she fixed her new bangs and coiffed her locks to properly rest around her shoulders where the soft colored waves scratched against her blazer. Dearest Liliann wanted to look presentable for him, and so what better way than to pass by the hairdresser for a new do.
A silent ‘hello’ passed across her lips as they curved into a soft smile, all in the hopes he would recognize her despite never officially having encountered each other face-to-face.
He was gently pushed to take a seat in front of her, making him face the board as they prepared. She couldn’t help herself but place her sight on him still, her hues tracing the broad shoulders covered by his jumper, up to the braids that covered his sides and top of his head as they pulled his curls back, resting right at the nape of his neck.
“Sihtric Kjartansson. Please rise.” Within his silence, the man in question rose back up to his feet, calm and collected.
The man at the center of the table was going through Sihtric’s file, recounting the crime he had committed and the consequential sentence he had eventually met.
The convict remained still, while trying to listen as the board’s words floated at him.
Only when he was made to sit back down did he snap out of his thoughts, her name was spoken through their lips.
“We’re calling on a character witness, Liliann-”
The woman of the hour; she jumped up from her seat at her name, interrupting the introduction. “Yes, h-hi your honor-s.” Standing up, she was clutching at her scarf the way her nerves were grabbing her with might. The older man eyed her for the second, almost having been startled at her sudden appearance.
His gaze went back to the file that stood in front of him as he went on. “We see here you have been corresponding through letters with prisoner Sihtric Kjartansson over the last four years.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sihtric couldn’t help but smile, the right side of his lips curving softly at her nervous stature while holding himself to not chuckle so loudly. He couldn’t turn around fully and see her but hearing her speak brought him a sense of ease she had been carrying through her pen since they met. Only today did he find out what her voice sounded like, and he cherished it already, the tonality of her sound calming him.
“Then speak.” The man asked, inquisitive and skeptical as his gaze bore through her. “Do you believe he is ready to rejoin society?”
She worked on her posture, hoping that the tension she felt in her knees would stop her body shaking slightly from her nerves. She swallowed whatever saliva she had in her mouth and looked back at the man straight in his eyes.
“I am confident he is ready. Sir.” She glanced quickly at her friend before eyeing back at the board.
“Sihtric is not a bad person. He has just been dealt with bad cards…” She tried formulating her next words, careful to keep her calm. “H-he had an upbringing that no child should have to ever go through. I-I mean his father was a notorious criminal, a m-monster. He was in self-defense mode, protecting his loved one, a-and his mother-” She breathed in as she quieted down, her emotions slowly getting the better of her.
“He was put in a horrible position that gave him no way out.” Another exhale, her knuckles whitened against her scarf. “Sihtric deserves a second chance. He shouldn’t have to pay any longer for circumstances that were beyond his control. I fully believe that, if his circumstances were different, better even, he’d be living a regular life and not barred by this justice system.”
A woman at the table intervened, curious at the visitor’s words. “You sound distasteful.”
“I am.” She had jumped with her answer, not having realized her response until a second later. Her eyes wide, she recuperated herself just as quickly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but-”
She sighed once again, her eyes averting to Sihtric before looking back to the board.
“You left a criminal on the streets for years as he terrorized everyone who crossed his path. He murdered countless people - his own wife included - and yet was never arrested for his crimes? And then, Sihtric, who did us a bloody hell of a favor, by the way, gets taken away for acting in self-defense. I’m sorry, but this was beyond unfair what he went through. And I believe this man right here didn’t deserve such treatment.”
She dropped her head, gathering the last of her thoughts on the manner, her pulse racing against the clock. She lifted her eyes back up, watching them. “I haven’t known him for long, but I know him well enough that he’s not dangerous nor does he pose a threat to society. H-he is deserving of a second chance…”
Sihtric’s heart pounded between his ears, her words having carved themselves into his bones as shivers ran down his spine. He took a quiet breath, his head down and eyes closed, as he turned away to face the board again. He took them to heart, yet a twinge of uncertainty nestled itself comfortably in the darkest corner.
The board eyed her, slightly taken aback by her words. “Thank you for this…” The man in the middle cleared his throat, his eyes averted back to the file. “Insightful speech. You may sit down.”
She slightly stumbled as she took back her seat, her palms sweating from her sudden lack of control.
An eerie silence hung in the air; tension crawled up the walls to hover over the people in the room.
Liliann tried to slow down her breathing, her pulse increasing by the second. Though it felt like time standing still, the hands of the clock were moving at an unbearably slow pace.
But they turned and turned, Father Time forcing patience onto them.
‘Dearest Liliann, you deserve to know the truth of what I have done. But first, I need you to know – in the event you decided to cut ties with me – that it has been a pleasure knowing you and writing to you. I have been here for two years now and ever since we ‘met’, you have made my stay more bearable; your letters brighten the grim time I have here. Yet, how can I complain when I am the cause of my own undoing?’
She lost track of time as she waited outside, leaning against her car. The cold breeze added colors to her cheeks as she melted under her scarf, her arms crossed over her chest with her coat protecting her from the lightly grim weather.
The thoughts swirling inside her mind had left her to fall away from the moment; she was racing on a stand-alone track, directionless.
For the last four years, she had only ever written to Sihtric, had only encountered him through pictures. And now, just a few minutes away, she would finally be physically standing close to him.
She would be lying to herself saying that she wasn’t nervous. She had thought about that moment for so long, the multiple scenarios she had built in her head could fill a library.
Palpitations ran their course, a gentle smile coating her lips when her sight was finally granted with his presence.
He was making his way out as the gates opened and paved the way to his tethered freedom; the man was free, the board having passed their judgement, though he remained on parole.
The chilled air had hit him with a whirlwind, the clothes he wore not enough to protect him. He added a spring in his steps as he approached Liliann, growing anxious the closer he got. He had his right hand holding his thin layered jacket as closed as possible, while his left had been holding onto a couple of bags the prison had given him for his possessions; clear plastic to display his belongings.
He grew nervous, not truly knowing what to expect for their first physical encounter. It hugged him, the estrange feeling resting across his chest.
Reaching her at last, she stood up with her arms dropping as her hands found shelter in her coat pockets. “H-hi.” She stuttered her greeting, gently growing timid at the sight of him.
“Hi.” The small grin graced him, his voice reaching the air around her for the first time; her heart quickened its pace within that second, having stumbled on its walk when the tone of his words came to her.
A gentle awkwardness crept its way in between them; it was not unpleasant but had still brought them uncertainty.
She couldn’t look away from him, the gears in her mind churning loudly as she tried to find something to say. He stood still, the weather suddenly becoming a second thought as his gaze settled on her, taking in her appearance – from the way her dimple carved the right side of her cheek, the soft bangs tickling her eyelids where the rest of her hair covered her ears and were mounted on her scarfs and highlighting her hues, to the cupid bow atop her lips inviting him for a taste. He was holding his breath, staring at her as if to take her in, afraid that all this was unreal, a simple ruse.
Lost for words, they could only exchange a nervous chuckle until she pushed herself to finally speak up, trying to push passed the blush heating her cheeks.
She went with the only route she knew by heart. “This would’ve been much easier if I had written something down.” Her sense of humor was something he had only been able to read; hearing it for the first time, he laughed at her remark and the sound warmed her, enjoying the way it tickled her senses. “It’s finally nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
The exchange remained clumsy, their bodies shifting to either a handshake or a friendly embrace; Sihtric decided then to take the first step and leaned towards Liliann as he wrapped his arms around her.
She followed him, her hands resting on his back and had hoped he didn’t hear the pounding in her chest. “How are you feeling?” She spoke into the wind, hiding her nervousness.
He pulled away just enough not to be completely out of reach with his head tilting downwards to look at her. “Good- It’s strange, but a good kind of strange, I guess.”
She tried not to pay close attention to their proximity, shying away from the softness of his eyes until she noticed a faded scar on his right cheek. Her hues stuck to the mark, she had reached out for it, lightly tracing it with her fingertips. In return, he remained quiet, watching her as the gentleness of her caress left him shivering.
It was when she met his stare again that she realized what she was doing. She quickly pulled away, flustered. “S-sorry.”
He smiled, a small tug on the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.”
“It’s the medic in me.” She quickly wanted to give him an excuse, not wanting him to believe she was an intrusive person. “I have to have insight on all the cuts and bruises I come across.” She shared a nervous laugh, a small chuckle - a gesture he reciprocated. He touched his own cheek, nonchalantly. “It’s just something I got from one of the inmates. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at his words, worried, but had decided to let it go, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
She took a step back, ready to offer him a ride when she noticed the contents in one of the bags he had been holding; she recognized the pastel-colored envelopes and her heart soared. “You kept them…” She was in awe, touched that he held onto the letters she had been sending him over the years.
He scratched the back of his head, budding timidity hovering around him. “Of course, I did.” He gave her a smile as she took the bag in question. Examining what was inside, she then noticed a polaroid stuck between two envelopes; she recognized it as the one she had sent him - a simple one she had taken with her cat. Her brows creased at the sight, in slight shock.
“Wait, you kept this as well?” She lifted her head up to him as she spoke.
“I did. It was my proof you were real...” The softening smile graced his lips as he took a glance at the photograph, his eyes lingering as a subtle sharp twinge nudged him in the corner of his chest. “It’s a pretty good picture.” He softly mentioned under his breath; she blushed, trying to hide her embarrassment as she rubbed her nose from the cold. “Really? I was horrified after I sent that- It's like, the second I sent out the letter, I got my senses knocked back into me!” She caught a chortle in her throat, her hands to her cheeks in a mortified look. “I mean look at it! I made my cat wear a knitted suit! That I made! It’s horrifying!” He shared a chuckle with her at her response, amused at the exaggeration she was committing. She then caught her breath, the curves of her lips falling, her teeth biting the bottom instead. “To be honest, I thought I would’ve scared you off or something.”
“You didn’t... You can say, these kept me sane...” The smile he wore was heartwarming, entrancing. He meant his words, his declaration of their friendship wearing him like silk.
She was touched, not expecting such sincerity though kindness was something she knew him for.
She sucked in a breath, wanting to change the subject.
Her hands back in her pocket, she twirled quickly to look at her car before turning back to Sihtric. “Want to get out of here? If you’re a bit peckish, we can go somewhere to eat.”
He nodded at her suggestion, not denying the need to taste civilian food again. “I can have a bite to eat.”
She invited him to her car as he made his way towards the passenger side. He was about to reach the door when she spoke up again. “Oh! And don’t mind the noise the car makes. It goes away once it’s starts moving.”
He stopped in his tracks, looking perplexed.
She went on, having seen the expression covering his face. “It’s completely safe, I promise!”
He let out a snicker and shook his head as he went to open the door. He struggled, not being able to complete the task even by force. Liliann was about to get inside when she saw him. She ran to him, her nervous laughter singing in the back of her throat again.
At his side, she guided him. “You just have to give it a little push, a kick, and voila!” She succeeded, happy her trick still worked while also relieved the winter hadn’t done any more damage.
Sihtric stood bewildered, taken aback by the complex steps that were needed to simply enter the hatchback. “Have you thought about bringing it in to get it fixed?”
She smiled back at him, the grin wide across her lips. “But then my sweetest Volks will lose all its charm!”
He laughed at her words – her perky personality was a natural boost, a shot given to him straight for the serotonin. It had been just a few minutes, and he already did not want it to stop.
Once they settled inside and buckled their seats, Liliann plopped in her keys into the ignition, ready to go as she attempted to turn on her engine. It took her a few tries, leaving Sihtric to be worried about the state of her car.
She turned her head to him, reassuring him with all the conviction she could muster. “It would be weird if it didn’t do that at all.”
When finally lighting up, she let a sigh of relief slipping through her lips as she mumbled under her breath a quiet ‘thank god’.
He silently chuckled to himself, having heard her words, the smirk painted across his lips not able to be erased.
‘Dear Sihtric, I am glad to see you have not abandoned me after my last letter. I may sound dramatic writing this – sorry. It’s been an awful week at work. I lost two patients in the span of a few days. It’s been grim to say the least. I love my job. It has its moment, notably, witnessing such loss, but I also get to meet all kinds of people with such extraordinary stories – it's a blessing. I hope you are doing well and that you are reaching the end of your dreary cold. Be safe, Sihtric. I hope we’ll get to meet soon.’
They found their seats, secluding themselves from the early afternoon crowd; back in her neighborhood, she was treating Sihtric to lunch.
They sat in front of each other, her back leaning against the booth with only the table and menus separating them. As for the newly freed ex-convict, he was leaning forward where his arms rested on the surface with his head laid low.
“Penny for your thoughts?” She softly spoke, her sleeves pulled towards her fingers as they toyed with the menu.
He lifted his head to her words, a gentle smile covering his lips. “I’m just… overwhelmed a bit, I guess.”
She worried, her brows narrowing at his sentiment. “Are you happy at least? You’re a free man.” She said with a little tint of joy coming from the back of her throat.
A soft chuckle escaped him, naturally rolling off his tongue. “Yea, you could say that.” He then pushed himself against the backrest of his seat, arms dropping on his lap. “Thank you.” Relief had washed over him like a gentle breeze as his back leaned towards his seat, relaxed as his eyes settled on Liliann.
“For?” Her head slightly tilted, curious.
“For everything.” The laidback stature he grew into was now dissipating, the tension in his shoulders slowly gripping him once again. “You had no obligation with anything-” He was interrupted when a waiter came to their table to take their order.
Liliann jumped in, her eyes lingering on her friend for just one moment before she was giving her attention to the menu as she spoke up, taking the lead. She had crossed over the pages going from appetizers, plates and drinks to share between them.
Once the worker had took his notes and was out of ear shot, leaving them with only their glasses of water for the time being, Sihtric spoke up again; he was taken aback by her gesture and approached her again, pressing himself against the edge of the table. “It’s too much, you didn’t have to order all that.”
With a softening gaze, she leaned forward as well, matching his stance with a light tone of voice that dipped into care. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch is on me.”
“You don’t have too-” He gestured to her his refusal, his hand stretching across the surface of the table.
She mimicked him, having reached out where her hand rested atop his – a gesture done on instinct, her mind having no thought of the movement. “I want to.”
The sudden touch halted the twist of the tongue, the need for speech suspended. Sensing warmth budding in the palm of her right hand, she just as quickly pulled away, breaking the tension that seemed to have tied them together. Sihtric felt a soft wasp of cold air before he pulled away as well, trying to ignore the tingling sensation; it lingered, and he used his other hand, his thumb rubbing across his left. He swallowed the lump in his throat, the chaotic swarm of emotions leaving him conflicted. He felt weighed down by such heaviness, part of him thankful for her while the supposed rational part of him felt guilt nibbling at the edge. It left him perplexed, not knowing if his appreciation and affection stemmed from his circumstances – as she had become a beacon of hope – or if the feelings he held, wrapped like a vine across his ribcage, were genuine because of her.
Sitting face to face, finally being able to physically look at her and take her in, he couldn’t stop but wonder if what he felt was real, or if his emotions were attached to her as his white knight savior.
Either way, he wanted her in his life.
She was easy to talk to, and he found her sense of humor and her sarcasm endearing. Her comedic stance had given him a breath of fresh air into his lungs, as if his need for oxygen was now revolved around her, around every hint of a giggle in her throat, the caring smile across her lips, or the spark in her eyes that would shine whenever something light came to be.
He was smitten, and though he had known her for years – today was the day he felt his heart soar against his broken chest.
“Plus, I’m starving! I’d probably be leaving you with crumbs to eat anyways.” Her words, ringing into his ears so sweetly, made him titter.
She blushed at the sound.
“Alright, then.” He nodded, accepting her generosity with a small exhale. He then reached for his drink, his fingers twisting the glass on the table. From her hues, he looked down to the rim. “Thank you.” He lifted his head to her again, his shoulders letting go of the strain. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
She shared a giggle, a subtle sound that etched across her lips. “I look forward to it.”
And just in time, the waiter came back with their pints while the food was still yet to come.
Liliann took her glass, raising it to him. “To your freedom.” Sihtric mimicked her, taking his own drink and lifting it mid-air. “Partial freedom. I’m on parole, remember?”
She shrugged, a laidback motion of her shoulders. “It’s still a win.” They clinked their glasses, sharing their first sip as silence comfortably settled itself between them, a ball rolling up and down the table.
While he took his second sip, she worked on her next words – something he had noticed as her mouth twitched carefully. He waited, patient. She took a small gulp from her own glass, the bitter liquid trenching down her throat as she tilted her head to him again. “Have you thought about what you will do, now that you’re out?”
He sighed, thinking about his future. “Not really... To be honest, I didn’t think this day would ever come.”
Her heart squeezed at his answer, hurt he felt such way, that he had lost hope.
She did what she did best, petting such worries into a deep sleep. “You could take up knitting.” She gave him a light shrug again, a gesture that was meant to amuse him. “You can join my one-woman knitting club.”
He chuckled – he would never get tired for her knack for humor, he thought.
“I’ll think on it.” He offered a soft lopsided smile as he took another sip of his drink. She smiled in return, diverting her gaze quickly to the window on her right before turning her head back to him.
Once more, silence had spoken, letting Liliann thinking over her next words cautiously while her teeth nibbled at the skin inside her lips. She let out a breath, quietly as it slowly escaped her mouth, interrupting their moment with her low voice. “You’re welcome to stay with me, by the way.” As soon as they had come out, had she realized the meaning of her sentence and just as quickly jumped back in to clarify. “U-until you find something else, I-I mean.” She became nervous again, unable to read him. “Y-you can stay as long as you need.”
He looked at her, her kindness becoming like budding waves of the sea; he wasn’t drowning, he just remained still as the water caressed him, leaving droplets and raising his skin. He grew heavy again, guilt scratching at his inside. “You’ve done enough, already- Lili-”
She swallowed the dryness in her throat, pressing herself further against the backrest of her seat. She was close to pleading, her words breathed out with weight attached to them. “Sihtric, please.” He saw her shift, and had seemed to have closed herself a bit, her arms on her lap while her fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. “I want to do this. I want to help.”
He sighed softly and gave her a subtle nod as he accepted her invitation – he saw she had slowly straightened her back with a slither of hope, he thought, had added some colors to her irises. “It’s temporary.” He couldn’t bring himself to say he had friends we could stay with, that he at least had people who would look out for him.
She shook her head, feeling more at ease. “Exactly.” A small smile made its way to the corner of her lips, unable to hide its content – it seemed it was contagious as Sihtric found himself doing the same, sharing a grin of his own.
Their food had arrived and had rolled their conversation onto smoother tracks. The atmosphere had settled around them, igniting banters and laughter that eased the residing tension on his shoulders, dissipating the heaviness into the void.
The afternoon swayed through as they caught up like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. They rekindled past conversations and introduced new topics as the hours of the day danced around them, like a soundtrack rolling backstage.
The sound of her laughter was becoming a necessity, leaving him with a smile that hadn’t made its appearance in years; her written words had always been held close to his heart. Now that he knew what she sounded like, the way she held her humor, the way she spoke – the lines he had memorized in his head, he could finally hear her say them. His heart soared as her voice floated between his ears, soothing him.
They were on their third drink, gently rummaging through their plates, when the air had cooled down. Sihtric’s eyes had caught sight of a woman from across the pub, his heart suddenly coming to a halt.
Liliann noticed the change in demeanor and called for him. “Sihtric?” With no response, she followed his gaze and turned her head to see where he was looking. Her face dropped, understanding the violent fright in his eyes. She then turned back to him, finding him gulping his beer.
She let him swallow, leaning towards the table’s edge with concern. “You alright?”
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Y-yea. For a second, I thought it was-” He was looking pale, the color draining from his face in utter shock. An ache settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched him. “I know. I thought the same…”
He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands remaining at the nape of his neck before they fell to his lap. “I’m sorry for how she behaved towards you.”
“It’s okay. There is nothing to feel sorry about. It wasn’t your fault.”
It was believing that Sihtric’s ex was just a few feet away, that left them feeling dread looming over them.
It was remembering the last time she had seen the other woman that Liliann felt a rush of goosebumps across her skin, making her slightly shudder; the ex had initiated an argument when she found out Liliann and Sihtric were keeping in touch. Annoyed, enraged, she had taken his stuff and dropped them at Liliann’s door with a simple “if you want him, you can have him” remark spat at the young woman.
“Still… She was my wife.”
Liliann huffed, the tone done in a tongue in cheek way. “Yea… Weird taste, dude.” She used her sarcasm to push away the grey cloud that encased them in their booth. It made him chuckle, making it another successful attempt at lightening the mood.
Wanting then to continue and desperately change the subject, he dived into something else, bringing her along. “How is Aramis?”
She had taken a bite, a small piece of fried pickle, when he inquired about her pet. The suddenness of his question made her choke on her food. Trying to catch a breath, she coughed as she went for her glass, the straw settling between her lips as she downed her beverage to cool herself. All the while, though he was taken by surprise at her reaction, Sihtric couldn’t help but smile as she grinned nervously.
“I thought I would’ve annoyed you with how much I wrote about him.” She kept her fingers on her glass, the straw dancing around the pieces of ice cubes that resided at the bottom.
He frowned, curious. “Why would you think that?”
A slight scoff slipped from her, her eyes remaining glued to her plate. “People - that I have encountered at least - tend to be irritated by those who talk too much about their pet. Especially against cat ladies.”
Aramis was her everything; a simple British short hair she had adopted from an elderly couple who couldn’t take care of him anymore.
He held a soft beam, his sentiment genuine towards the little one. “I love the little guy! And I love that you took him in. Not a lot of people would do it, let alone mean it when they say they would do it.”
She blushed, flustered at receiving such a compliment, and hid behind her drink. “Y-yea… He’s a pretty good roommate to have around.”
“I have some competition it seems.”
She chuckled at his remark, meeting his eyes as she shook her head, amused. “I guess so.”
They carried on, traipsing seamlessly from topic to the next, a comfort settling between them.
Drawn to one another, unable to notice time pass, the pen’s ink slowly tightened them within its cursive script and pushed them closer as they discovered more about one another.
The letters they wrote had brought ease and hope, and he appreciated every single one of them. “They have definitely made my life bit fuller, if that makes sense…”
“It does.” She softly smiled at him, understanding as the sentiment was reciprocated.
Sihtric had then gotten up from his seat without a word, suddenly leaning towards Liliann from across the table. He reached for her, his hand resting on the left side of her face, hand to her jaw with his thumb caressing her cheek. He then approached her further until she felt his lips pressed onto hers, sharing a sweet kiss – the gesture taking her by surprise. He pulled away, though he remained close enough to her, calling for her.
The glass shattered, the daydreaming breaking into thousands of pieces as she was snapped back into reality.
He had noticed she had fallen into a slight daze, unresponsive until he spoke her name. Startled, blinking, she cleared her throat as she quickly slid out of her seat. “E-excuse me-”
She dashed for the bathroom, going straight for the sink. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She grabbed the counter, lifting her head to the mirror in front of her. “Get your shit together, Liliann!” Pointing at herself through the glass, arguing with herself, she took a moment while catching a breath. Once she felt normal again, she fixed herself up and walked back to her seat.
Sitting back down, Sihtric looked at her with a curious gaze. “Are you okay? You look… flushed.”
She still felt heat gripping her cheeks. She cleared her throat, pretending nothing had disturbed her. “I’m fine. I just ran a bit hot. T-the food was quite h-ot.”
He chuckled, not fully convinced. “Alright, if you say so…”
She chugged down half her water – the sight leaving a tickled smirk across Sihtric’s features. Placing her drink on the table with a sigh, she leaned back in her seat, pulling her sleeves to her palms as she picked – once again – at the hem of her shirt.
He saw the gears in her head turning, igniting curiosity on his end. She was so pensive, clearly thinking of what she wanted to ask him – the way it marked her features, a glint stretched across his lips, enjoying the way she was nibbling at her bottom lip in thought.
She let out a small breath – the one thing had been haunting her for a while. She had been too afraid to ask but the dire need to know, to understand, had been gnawing at her like an aftertaste. She gathered her courage and pushed through. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
She ripped it away like a band aid.
“Why didn’t you want me visiting you?”
He took a moment to answer, pondering as he fell backwards, resting in his seat. Meeting her stare, he melted under her gaze, his answer floating smoothly. “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion the letters created for you.” His words rang her ears. She waited for more – it took him a second to continue. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed of who you would be meeting, face to face.”
Her heart broke at his confession. It hurt to see him retrieve himself like this. “Sihtric, the letters never created any sort of illusions for me. They were the most honest I’ve ever been with anyone, and I felt that from you too. U-unless I’m wrong-”
“No, you’re not. I've been more honest and vulnerable with you than with anyone else. Even from my ex...” The pressure on his chest was chipping away ever so slowly. “I wanted to see you, to sit down and talk and finally meet the mystery woman who I've been writing too. Up until you sent me your picture, I thought I was being cat-fished.”
She laughed at his comment, inciting his own chuckle. “I am an improvement, I hope.”
“You have no idea.” He lingered – just for a moment, and then spoke to her. “And sorry, again. I thought it would be easier if we just kept to the letters… I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”
She offered him a smile, a grin that reached him. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad we are here now… finally.” He reached for his plate, picking out a single frie. She quietly watched him, the curves of her lips remaining timidly upwards. “And Sihtric?” He met her gaze. “You’re not a disappointment.”
Her words struck him and for the first time in so damn long, he believed it.
He believed her; the way she was looking at him, the way her eyes held him with such high regard as if he was anything but a criminal, a murderer. Not even the woman he had spent most of his adult life with, not even she who he was engaged to, looked at him that way. It left him with a warmth that crept under the covers, right into his chest like a cat seeking comfort.
He tried to ignore the thoughts that hid in the shadows, in the back of his mind.
There was a lingering gaze; they held their eyes to each other without a word, without even realizing what they were doing. It had lasted for a few seconds – short enough for the waiter to come back, interrupting them. “Do you want anything else?”
Liliann turned to Sihtric. “Dessert?”
Sihtric nodded. “Sure, why not.”
She turned back to the worker while Sihtric’s sight remained on her, enamored.
The entire situation still felt surreal for him.
He took his last sip, eyes on her, until he eventually turned to the window, the glass back on the table.
“You alright?” He nodded at her inquiry, looking back at her. “I didn’t realize the holidays were approaching so quickly.”
“Tell me about it.” She joined in, looking to the streets with her arms resting by the sides of her body.
The afternoon had stretched into late evening, the dessert extending their stay even further.
Time passing was not an issue for either of them – they had nowhere else pressing to be.
For now, he was content, enjoying her presence at his side.
‘Dear Liliann, I’m sorry to hear about the troubles my ex is giving you. I’ve tried reaching out, but she has completely cut ties with me. Please do not mind her, I’ve angered her, though I guess being out of the picture, it’s easier for her to use this excuse to cheat on me. I know I’ve written this before but thank you for letting me know. I cannot blame her, to be honest. It hasn’t been easy – our last years together were a tumble down the stairs. Yet, I cannot help but still feel for her since she had been by my side as far as I can remember. But I guess everything must come to an end eventually...’
They stood quietly in the hallway while Liliann searched for her keys.
She was rummaging through her purse, the item lost within the void. All the while, Sihtric remained patient, his eyes watching her with amusement until he turned his head where his gaze settled on the closed door that stood across from them.
“Got it!” The jingle of the keys echoed around them as she lifted her head up, smiling at her retrieval.
She then caught him looking behind her; she turned around before looking back at him again. She softly spoke up, careful with her tone. “A new couple moved in a few days ago…” A part of her was glad his ex had moved out, having grown afraid of the woman.
Her words caught his attention as he reverted to her. She spoke again, happy to see the slight tremor in her voice went unnoticed. “H-have you spoken to her recently?”
“No.” She was unlocking her door when he continued, stuttering her steps in the process. “But I need to reach out to her. We need to talk.”
“O-oh. Yea, I guess…” A shaken sigh under her breath, Sihtric hadn’t seen the dread draping her shoulders, which she - once again - quietly thanked.
Opening her front door, she turned on her lights as she walked in and was welcomed by the loud cries of her cat.
Liliann bent down, picking up her furry friend in her arms while gently scratching at his fur.
She then turned around as Sihtric walked in and closed the door behind him. He remained speechless, taking in the sight as she moved away.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
He chuckled as he removed his jacket, his eyes wandering around the small apartment until he saw a few boxes lying by a wall.
“It’s not much, but it does the trick. It’s, hmm, it’s home…” He noted the slight saddening undertone that slipped through. He said nothing, not wanting to make it palpable and bring her down.
“It’s perfect.”
She met his hues and blushed, a shy smile gracing her lips.
He then approached her, worry coming back to him. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”
“Sihtric.” She placed a hand on his arm, the gesture meant to reassure him. “I promise, it’s alright.”
“I really owe you.”
She gave him a gentle squeeze before letting him go. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour.” With her pet now out of her arms, strutting around without a care in the world, Liliann guided Sihtric around from the living room to her kitchen, bathroom and lastly her bedroom.
“I figured you might want a proper bed after so long. I’ll just plop on the couch.”
Sihtric stood still, refusing to become the reason she would also be losing her bed – on top of gaining an unwanted roommate.
“You’re not kicking me out. I pass out in the living room all the time anyway. The bed is just for decoration at this point. Might as well be used.” She shrugged, nonchalantly, wanting to convince him all was well. “You need to a comfortable place to sleep, Sihtric. Take the bed, it’s fine. I promise.”
He stared at it, the covers and pillows neatly propped – the room was simple and held all the necessities. It wasn’t too extravagant, and yet still held some kind of comfort to its atmosphere.
She watched him, trying to understand the emotions that were written across his face.
The scene broke down when Aramis cried from the kitchen – he was getting hungry.
Liliann cleared her throat, scratching at the back of her head, catching the man’s attention. “Hmm, why don’t you take a shower- or a bath, whichever you prefer. I have towels ready for you on the counter already and your clothes are in this box over by the dresser. H-hopefully they still fit.” She started taking steps backwards, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll go see what’s up with the little fur ball in the meantime.”
She was walking away when Sihtric grabbed her wrist, forcing her to a halt.
He didn’t have to say anything – for once, she was able to see what he was going to say and stopped him. “You don’t have to thank me Sihtric. I’m glad you’re here. Truly. Enjoy your freedom, will ya?”
He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “I will.”
She gave him a soft smile, placing her free hand on the one he held her with before walking away, her heart in her throat.
He watched her, his shoulders dropping, his heart pounding in his ears – conflicted.
The steam of the bathroom had escaped once the door opened. Sihtric quietly made his way back to the bedroom while Liliann was preparing the couch with sheets and pillows.
She had taken the time to change into her pj’s - a worn out t-shirt with man’s sweats - and had gotten some extra blankets for him.
She held a couple and walked into the slim hall to her bedroom when she found him looking through some of his boxes.
“You look refreshed.” She watched him as he got up to his feet to face her; he looked relaxed, all the heaviness of today washed away.
He ruffled his hair, his fingers passing smoothly through the strands, still damp from the water. “It was the best shower I’ve had in a very long time.”
She chuckled, happy to see him this way. “Glad to hear considering the water pressure isn’t all that great.”
“It was better than what I had, believe me.”
She walked to the bed, her arms busy with additional covers. “I brought you some extra blankets. Wasn’t sure if you ran hot or cold...”
Her voice trailed off into silence, only now having noticed their proximity. Her mouth hung slightly open, her fingers digging into the fabric of the sheets as it stood between them. She was struck with the way his bi-colored gaze bore into her, her breath held by the depth of his hues.
They were pulled back when noise came from the living room – Aramis was keeping himself busy.
Liliann cleared her throat and turned around, placing the blankets on the bed. Sihtric remained still, watching her move without saying anything. He was unable to break away, taken in by the leisurely demeanor she wore; he couldn’t help himself but study how the cotton hung across her figure – if he held her, if he tightened his hold onto the fabric of her clothes, they could hug her, and he would be able to trace every spec, every curve, that stood beneath him. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, her bangs brought up with a clip to her scalp – he felt the need to run his fingers through them, to feel their softness against his skin. And then to feel her skin warm under his touch as he hugged her close.
Liliann turned around to find him staring at her.
He looked taller, she thought.
All within their silence, he approached her prudently until his left hand rested on her cheek, the other placed on her waist. Her lungs were numb, unable to breathe, from the physical contact – she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like this.
Emotions were now in overdrive, having subdued all rationale into complete oblivion.
They locked eyes, incapable of breaking away as if she was paralyzed by the colors of his irises; she fell into their shades, letting them embrace her with undescribed sentiments carved into the thin lines as they ghosted over her.
Breathing in the tension, he leaned down, drawn by the desperate need to kiss her. The feeling almost palpable, his lips already tingled.
From her waist, his left hand traveled down to her hip, gently grasping her shirt as he pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, his breath tickling her lips while her heart pounded with such strength, she could feel her ribcage crack, in dire need to be free from its confine.
A slight movement from her, her nose brushed against his – a feather touch. He tilted his head down to see her fingers hovering over his chest, as if to hold herself up. The cupid bow of her upper lip, the hint of her dimple on her right cheek – he wanted to feel it, to kiss it, to see it sculpting her skin when smiling.
The control was held with such great strength, he hated himself for it.
Yet, he couldn’t let go.
He couldn’t abandon his resolve to kiss her – he didn’t want to.
But he wasn’t capable either of pursuing his desire, as if he was held up by strings, as if a wall was separating them.
He held her firmly, his thumb tracing over the hidden dimple as he held her jaw. The warmth of his touch made her quiver, her knees almost giving out. He lifted her head up to him again, making her open her eyes which silently begged him for more.
The unspoken emotions that hovered across the dried ink of their letters, the ones that were captured and incased within the sealed envelopes, seeped through with every breath, the air growing thicker.
Her hands carefully climbed to reach him – her fingertips peeked at the hem of his shirt against his neck, making him shiver from her touch.
Just one more nudge and he could succumb to his want, to feel her lips pressed against his. They were so close yet felt so far away.
She caught the pendant he wore, her gaze averting to it as Sihtric watched her play with it. She captured the cord and gently tugged, pulling him down to her – she could feel his lips finally hover over hers, like a shadow, ready for a firmer touch.
She was lacking his sense of control while she gathered her courage, moving her lips softly over his.
His grip on her hip tightened, his hand digging into the fabric of her shirt as it rested against her skin. His left remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing over her jawline as they hid within the locks of her hair.
And when he finally met her, when she could finally fully feel his lips pressed against hers, ready to dive into this state of yearning – they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, forcing them to pull away.
The heat exuded from their closeness vanished from the simple percussion of the door.
They stood still for a moment, simply staring at each other while their chests heaved; reality fell on them, like a glass ceiling falling from its root and straight onto them, shattering on impact.
He was knocked out.
He noticed the pink tint of her cheeks, the slightly parted lips, and the look in her eyes was yet to be understood though, he swore he saw an outline of disappointment painted within them.
The door knocked again, the noise resonating with them once more.
The moment gone, she walked away, leaving him to pull himself together. He took a seat on the bed, elbows to his knees as he held himself in thought, yelling at himself for what transpired.
He heard her footsteps get closer to him and finally looked up to see her standing at the bedroom’s entrance.
“Who was at the door?” He was a little bit agitated – the knocks reminding him of his childhood, of the roughness of his past.
“Just a delivery... I ordered some knitting stuff. I-I ran out.” She leaned against the threshold while he remained sitting at the edge of her bed.
An awkward silence settled in the room.
She still felt the ghost of his lips pressed on hers – she pinched her bottom lip while they remained quiet and looked at him as he stared down his lap onto the floor.
Her mouth moved, trying to break the stillness that infiltrated their bubble.
“Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat.”
“No, I’m okay. Thanks.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll let you be then...”
She was about to turn away when he called for her. She just as swiftly pivoted back, hopeful.
He stumbled on his words, trying to find a way to speak without causing any strain. “About earlier- I didn’t mean to overstep-”
She interrupted him, knowing where he was going.
Her heart broke.
“You didn’t. O-overstep, I mean...”
She gave him half a smile, hoping to mask the ache in the pit of her stomach, wishing he would simply get the message and run to her.
He did.
And he was dying to jump on his feet and grab her, but he couldn’t push himself to do it.
He felt undeserving.
The guilt crippled him, thinking he had taken advantage of her even though he knew she wanted this as well.
He couldn’t risk losing her, of making things more complicated – even though they weren’t.
She gulped down, her head down as she pushed hair strands behind her ear before going for the hem of her shirt, her nervous habit apparent.
She then looked up to meet his eyes, solemn. “Goodnight, Sihtric.”
“Goodnight, Liliann.” She left him be as she made her way back to the living room, a bee line straight for the couch, while holding back her tears and wrapping her arms around herself.
She told herself she was being ridiculous for feeling this heartbroken over a kiss that never was.
She took her seat and laid down facing the backrest, covering herself tightly with her eyes shut close.
He sighed, falling against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, cursing under his breath for wanting to let his emotions take over.
He could still feel the tingle of her lips on his, his fingertips missing the warmth of her skin.
‘Dearest Sihtric, it’s that time of the year again. Christmas is right around the corner and I’m scrambling to figure things out. I might have to work over the holidays – I'm waiting to receive my schedule – and to be honest, I think it’s better than to be alone. Aramis will be without me, but he is used to it, and I don’t think he notices it anyways. I wonder what Christmas would be like if we ever get to celebrate it together – any traditions you want to share? There are a few I remember growing up... It’s been harder every year, but now that we’ve met, that I have you in my life, the holidays don’t feel so alone. I hope it’s the same for you. Maybe one day, if we ever meet – when you get out of there, we could celebrate together. Nothing lavish – I'm sure Aramis would love to meet you. What do you think?’
He had walked through the front door when he found Liliann in the middle of decorating for the holidays.
While Sihtric had been out all day, she took the opportunity to fetch - within her parents’ storage unit - the family Christmas tree alongside some of the decorations they had left behind. It was a challenge to climb the stairs of her building with the heavy items back and forth, let alone having made it fit within her hatchback.
Unintentionally hiding away, she had heard him and stopped what she was doing, popping her head from behind the tree. “You’re back!”
He jumped, startled at the suddenness of her voice echoing within her living room; she widened her eyes, apologetic of her outburst. “S-sorry. Did not mean to scare you.”
His hand pressed to his chest; he breathed out a smile to her. “That’s alright.” He started removing his jacket, his gaze finally taking note of the clutter surrounding his friend. “What’s all this?”
“I thought since the holidays were approaching, I might as well get a head start on the decorations, and stuff.” A practiced answer; she had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She moved from where she stood, her hands busy with a set of small colorful light strings, as she continued. “You know how Aramis likes toying with the ornaments.” She gave him a nervous chuckle, trying to mask the anxiety hammering inside her chest.
Sihtric had quickly taken notice of her pet at the mention of his name, the creature stretched out on his back and asleep on the couch. And instead of saying anything to discourage the apparent effort Liliann was putting for him, he smiled, even though he knew the truth; he was aware she hadn’t gotten into the holiday spirit as of late, with her family spread apart. He remembered the letter that told him of such predicament, the words spilling out her lonesome secret – her lack of need to decorate.
And so, he knew she was doing this for him – for Liliann, it was all in the hopes it would ease his transition, bring some cheer back into his life.
She went on, desperate to break the tension. “To be honest… I-I don’t even know why I bother.” Another anxious huff escaped her, her rambling habit taking over. “My parents are doing their own thing again this year and my sister will be with her in-laws now, a-and I’ll probably be given a shift or something at the hospital, so I won’t be here anyways…” Having brought herself down, she dropped the garland from her hands and wiped her palms on her sides. She looked away from him, ashamed.
She ran her fingers through her hair, dropping her arms as she faced the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make some tea.” She rushed away from him, leaving him to look around at the mess in the room. He appreciated the effort she was putting in for him, yet he felt heavy.
Last night’s moment, in the shadows of today’s events, he felt weight on his shoulders.
He eventually joined her at her table where he found her sitting with her mug on the table alongside her delivery box from yesterday opened in front of her.
He sighed, taking a seat.
They welcomed the silence like a third friend. Her gaze was glued to the steam floating from her cup, her teeth nibbling the skin inside her mouth – she had a question burning her tongue.
“Did you go see her?”
She had spoken so softly, it took him a moment to register her words; he nodded. “It’s official. The papers have been signed.”
She frowned as she met him. “The divorce papers?”
He nodded once again. “I thought she had sent them to you months ago.”
“She never did.”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” Remorse settled in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed her mug, pulling it towards her. “She came to see me and shoved the envelope in my face, telling me to bring it to you. I-I told her it wasn’t my responsibility, and she should do it herself if she wanted the papers signed... I’m sorry, I should’ve just taken them.”
“It’s not your fault. She shouldn’t have put that on you.” He held her gaze, and he could see anguish coloring her eyes. “It is done now either way, so all is well.”
She took a sip of her tea, bending her legs against her chest.
He wanted to move away from talking of his ex – the sour subject having left him with a bitter aftertaste.
And so, his eyes settled on the box in front of him. “Your package?”
His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She resettled in her seat, placing her mug back on the table. “Hmm, y-yes. Just some new yarn and I got a second pair of needles, just in case y-you wanted to give it a try... as a hobby.” She slid them to him, timid. He chuckled and thanked her as he took them.
They were disturbed by the whining of her cat, the poor feline caught in the abandoned light strings.
Liliann leaned sideways to see what had happened.
“Damn it.” She muttered under her breath and quickly got up to help him while Sihtric remained seated, his eyes venturing back to the box and the needles in front of him.
His mind wandered back to what his ex had said about his friend, making him angry in return against the insults.
He had regretted the events of today and had wished he would’ve stayed put instead – at least spending it with Liliann.
He was brought out of thought when she came back with her cat in her arms. “I think he is lonely. My company doesn’t seem to suffice anymore.”
He smirked, a light huff running down his tongue. “Well of course, he needs a friend to get tangled in the lights with – right buddy?” He scratched under the cat’s chin, inciting a whine from the little one.
She smiled at his words, watching him entertain her pet with her heart in her throat. “I have been thinking about maybe getting a second one, to keep him company.”
“It would be a nice Christmas present for him.” He lifted his eyes to her, never letting go of the soft smile he wore. “For you too as well.”
She nodded, reciprocating the affection. “Yes, I guess so.”
Aramis then wiggled out of her arms, throwing another whine at her as he jumped to the floor, scurrying himself away.
A small laugh escaped Sihtric as he got up to his feet; Liliann remained still, watching him.
“I’m gonna go shower.”
“O-okay.” He was walking out, just about to disappear into the hallway when she jumped as well, calling for him. “Sihtric?” Standing up, her fingers went for her shirt, her habit nitpicking the fabric. “A-about the divorce… How are you holding up?”
He pondered before answering. “I’m okay. I’m relieved, I guess.”
“G-great! I-I mean that it’s all sorted now, a-and that it’s a good thing its over- that you got closure- that you got her out of your system.” She couldn’t seem to stop, her foot digging deeper into her mouth.
He raised his brow, confused. “That I got her out of my system?”
“We-well, yea. You s-slept with her right?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, already striding with her follow ups. “Y-you were gone all day-” He didn’t answer, the clumsy moment forcing her to jump, ready to face her train. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I just… She hurt you the first time around. I don’t want her to do it again if you’re thinking of getting back together with her… You deserve better.”
He sighed, understanding the sentiment behind her words. She worried for him, and he appreciated it. “We’re not getting back together.” No relief seemed to cross her. “I promise. She’s the last person I want in my life right now.” He was about to walk away when he stopped, owing the last piece of truth of his day to her. “But yea... You could say, I got her out of my system.”
She felt a percussion hitting her right in the chest. With a hitched breath, she swallowed the lump lodged in her throat – though it remained stuck. “G-good. That’s good- for the closure I mean.” She was hiding her jealousy and had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She gave him a reassuring smile as he walked away with the same facial expression. Once gone, she cursed at herself, under her breath, as she fell back on her seat, her thick socks almost making her slip in the process.
Her head turned to her poorly decorated tree and the mess surrounding it, cursing at herself again. “You’re such an idiot, Lil… ugh, this is stupid.” She exhaled heavily, saddened and annoyed at herself. She bit down her tongue, holding back her tears. She should be happy his ex was out of his life, but the small twig of envy embedded in her, burnt her the way a paper cuts through skin. She chugged down a sip of her tea and got up, having the sudden urgent need to put everything away - not wanting to finish her task of adding some merriment to her home.
There was no point to it anymore, she thought.
'Dearest Liliann, I have some good news – I have a parole hearing coming up. Well, it’s yet to be good news depending on the outcome. I don’t know what to expect from the board. Whatever their verdict, I hope you will remain by my side as I’m sure I will need you... Sorry if I sound dramatic. If the hearing fails and my sentence remains, will you still write to me?’
“Oh, s-sorry!” She was startled by her sight, and quickly backed herself against the frame of her door while trying to turn around, only to end up almost knocking herself out along the way. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She had walked into her bedroom to find Sihtric doing a morning workout by her bed, surprising her.
He stopped at her entrance and got up to his feet, meeting her with a relaxed beam across his face. “You didn’t.” He was catching his breath, the smile on his lips remaining as he stood tall in front of her, shirtless.
She attempted to avert her gaze elsewhere, suddenly timid at his stance, desperate to spit out words for distraction. “T-training for something?” Her eyes kept gravitating towards him, a coy pull she couldn’t resist.
He chuckled, the sound coaxing a sightless tremor to her knees, as he picked up his shirt from the bed. “A habit I picked up.” She bit the inside of her lip, her teeth pressing harshly into the skin, as heat crept up to her cheeks and painted them pink. Flustered, she scrunched her face, eyes closed, as her hand stretched out to scratch the back of her head, tilting downwards. “I-I thought you were in the shower- I was going to pick up my s-scrubs for work...”
The sly smirk on his face was not letting him go as he noticed the redness in her cheeks and the stammer on her tongue. The shirt now covering him, he approached Liliann as he spoke up, trying to hide his amusement at her reaction. “It’s alright, I was heading out to the kitchen anyways.”
She nodded, her head lifted back up to him as she cleared her throat and pushed herself away when he stood in front of her, needing to walk through the door. She could barely set her eyes on him as he was watching her; the second of eye contact dried her throat, the blush on her cheeks deepening into her veins as butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach.
Once he was behind her, walking away, the breath she had held hostage escaped her. She smacked her cheeks, embarrassed by the way she had greeted him, and hoped to god he didn’t notice – though the haunted thoughts in the back of her head were telling her otherwise. She took a moment, gathering her senses while taking deep breaths to calm herself. She hated how rattled she had been; the scene replayed itself inside her mind, the results coming out differently than what she had just experienced.
Once dressed in her uniform, ready for the day, she made her way back into the living room to find him walking out of the kitchen just as she was heading out.
He stared, caught off guard at her appearance. She caught him, frowning in worry. “I-is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” He shook his head, his startling jump disintegrating. “No... I forgot you were a nurse.”
She mouthed a silent “Oh”, her instinct pushing her for the comical approach. “I don’t blame you. It is a forgettable detail.” She shrugged her shoulders, still jesting. “Even I forget sometimes.”
He chuckled at her comment; she grinned, content with herself she made him laugh.
She jumped back in, her demeanor, now calm. “I need to head out for work. Make yourself comfortable, alright?”
Sihtric grew uncomfortable, unsure of her proposal. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? You’ve been here two days already.” She picked up her purse and put on her coat before reaching for her boots, all the while trying to reassure him.
He wasn’t convinced. “Yes, but you were here, with me.”
Liliann sighed; concern etched across her face. “Sihtric, I promise you, treat this place like it’s your own. For as long as you need.”
His shoulders fell, the uncertainty in his posture bringing her closer to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the heaviness of her belief in him weighing him down. “You really trust me to leave me here by myself?”
She chuckled while patting him on the shoulder.
“I trust you with my life.”
Her words had slipped, like a body rapidly falling on ice, before she even realized what they had meant. She blushed out of embarrassment, her eyes wide as she stared at Sihtric. She then stumbled on her feet, rushing towards the door to make her way out without even giving him the chance to respond to her remark. “I’ll see you at the end of the day. If there is anything, call me!”
He reluctantly nodded, thanking her again with a softness to his tone before she disappeared on the other side of the door.
The sudden silence that came with her exit left him overwhelmed, the sudden emotion crashing violently like waves would, into the bottom of a cliff under a heavy storm. Guilt grabbed him, unsettling feelings shaking him, haunting him almost.
The thoughts rummaging inside his mind pushed him to believe that her generosity was only there on behalf of his manipulation towards her. It left a bitter taste on his tongue, his heart growing heavy the longer he pondered over it while his stare leapt around him.
Aramis came to him while lost in his head. The cat purred against his leg, brushing his fur against the fabric of his sweats. Sihtric picked him up before glancing around the room again, his eyes following the trail of boxes his ex had left until they led him to the Christmas tree, the ornamental statue feebly standing with pride.
He sighed, taking a moment for himself.
He revisited the last couple of days – from the moment he finally met her at his parole hearing, to the night they almost kissed, and to the night after that.
The boulder grew heavy on his shoulders, the longer he pictured her in his mind’s eyes. He cared for her – that, he couldn’t deny. Yet, he knew himself undeserving of her, the anguish gnawing at him from the inside out. He knew she was breaking her neck for him, and he couldn’t let it go on any longer.
Aramis brought him out of his thoughts as the pet jumped out of his arms, the little one running away to sit at the coffee table. Sihtric approached him as he fetched his old phone out of his pocket. Dialing one of the very few phone numbers he could remember, he stopped when he noticed a box hiding under the surface of the table.
He bent down and picked it up, a small smile gracing his lips as he recognized the envelopes he had been using for his letters. Liliann had kept every single one of them – like he had done – including the first one she had received by accident. Looking through the stack of papers, he also found his ex’s ring, the piece of jewelry having been given back to his friend for safe keeping.
Sihtric’s heart broke remembering how their friendship came to be, when Liliann had received mail that was intended for the apartment across the hall. It was when Sihtric’s ex had rejected the letter in question, not wanting anything more to do with him, not because he was in jail but because she had someone else on the other side of that door, that Liliann decided to respond back and let him know – out of the goodness of her heart.
They had kept in touch since then.
Which now, he had almost wished they shouldn’t have; he should not have answered - he should’ve just let it be.
He ran his fingers through his hair, his head leaned back to the ceiling as he fell on the couch. Aramis jumped on his lap, creating himself a comfortable seat.
The man, traipsing back into his mind let himself wonder; she was one of the good things that had happened in his life. She was caring and he could confess his liking of her, but the lump lodged behind his ribcage, the one that echoed across his limbs from bones to marrow – he was not able to continue his thought, a distant voice shaking him back to reality.
He startled the cat from his sudden movement as Sihtric sat up, looking down at his phone as he realized the number he composed had answered.
He brought it to his ear, taking a second as a breath silently escaped.
“Hey, Finan? It’s me.”
‘Dear Sihtric, my name is Liliann. This letter mistakenly arrived at my door when I believed it was meant for your roommate? Or partner? I thought I should let you know, out of courtesy, but she refused your letter, citing that she no longer wanted to be in contact with you. I’m sorry about this. Hope things will get better where you are.’
The jiggle of the keys into her lock had stirred the cat awake, the pet rushing into hiding under the Christmas tree.
The door opening, Liliann walked in, in complete exhaustion; another hardening day at work, relief washed through as she stepped into her quaint home.
Closing the door, she stood still for a moment as she caught her breath - the broken lift was going to be the death of her, she thought; the stairs had been her Everest, always climbing them yet barely able to conquer.
Only when her breathing settled did she finally take note of the silence surrounding her; her eyes averted to the empty spaces.
All of Sihtric’s boxes were gone.
Perhaps he emptied them, she thought. Maybe it is silent because he was simply throwing them away, she told herself.
Yet, she couldn’t help but call for him, her voice carrying the smallest of echoes. “Sihtric?”
The eerie quietness unsettled her. It was different than before. It was colder somehow, lonelier.
She took a few more steps inside, until she noticed an envelope resting on her coffee table, her name etched eloquently across its surface.
Her heart dropped, dread aggravating the discomfort in her stomach.
The bags she had been holding in both hands, the groceries she had picked up for the simple task of wanting to make a home cooked meal for him, clattered on the floor with the bottom thudding softly against her rug. She had thought it would have been nice to make dinner for two, for once; it was the simple want of recreating her childhood holiday traditions and sharing them with him. To spread some cheer in this damp place, to give him some spirit after the roughness of his last few years.
Hands trembling, she reluctantly picked up the envelope and slowly opened it before pulling out the sealed letter.
My dearest Liliann, this is my last letter…
She couldn’t go on, her eyes stuck to the first sentence, paralyzed. The words resonated within her brain, trying to fully comprehend their significance until they struck her right into the pit of her chest, a sudden sharpening pain striking her ribcage.
Unable to hold on any longer, the paper was let go as it flew downwards until it softly reached the carpet in a silent swoop.
It was as if her body had given out, her knees buckling under the weight of her heartbreak.
Devastation settling at her core, a staggered breath stroke her lungs as her throat choked, ready to erupt under a dawning new reality; it wasn’t the dim lights of the tree, which added a melancholic glow to her living room, that broke her down.
It wasn’t the emptiness of her apartment that tore her apart. Something was amiss, odd and suddenly unfamiliar, but it wasn’t the state of his place that left her to drown.
Hope having vanished, warmth having dissipated from her home, she was left bare and desolate.
It was crippling.
No longer strong enough to stand, she sat on her knees, holding in her tears as her mind was disjointing the last few days she shared with him. She wondered if she had done something wrong, something so upsetting it made him want to leave.
She didn’t dare read the rest of the letter, too frightened of what the content could hold.
But if she only kept going, would she have found his penmanship detailing his apology for leaving her, how he was grateful for her kindness and generosity but how, as well, it was best if he remained away from her. How she was better off living her life without him, how he was asking for her forgiveness at leaving so abruptly, and that he wishes her the best. At how he would forever be grateful for the hope she gifted him and how the letters had become the only source of happiness in his dingy world.
‘You’ve given me so much, Liliann, and I hope, despite the way I have left, you will accept this parting gift… Wishing you the best with your future.’
The purring of her cat caught her attention as he reached for her, pressing himself against her knee. She picked him up and started stroking his fur while settling him against her chest. Shattered, she exhaled a deep breath as she looked down at him, her voice carrying a tremor at the back of her throat. “I guess it’s just the two of us again…” Her fingers reached for his chin, scratching softly before her gaze wandered around until they fell back to her pet again.
“You’ll never leave me Aramis, right?”
The dejection laced into her words was met with a gentle purring. She frowned when she saw her cat did not move.
The softest of calls tickled her ears again and she lifted her head, following the unfamiliar sound.
A shaken breath escaped her lungs, and tears swiftly escaped their confine as they stroked her cheeks.
Liliann stared at the box by her tree while hugging Aramis closer to her.
Within the silence of her living room, the noise resonated once again.
She could see it, but believing it was still a challenge to grasp.
It had done it once more, her heart shattering into pieces as she silently cried.
Across the room, a rescue kitten peeked out of its box, calling for whoever would listen.
It was but a singular note that had set up the rest of her night.
“Meow.”
-----------------------
xoxo
#the last kingdom#sihtric#sihtric x oc#sihtric fic#sihtric fanfic#tlk fanfic#arnas fedaravicius#mywriting#sihtric kjartansson#the last kingdom fanfic#Photo by Ranurte on Unsplash#tlk
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours (Sihtric x OC) Rockstar!AU
*Disclaimer: Number one, I’m embarrassed to post this. Number two, I don’t usually write smut. Number three, english is not my first language and there will probably be very dumb spelling mistakes. Number four, the lyrics are from Artic Monkeys’ song 505, probably taken out of context. Number six, this idea came thanks to the little community of TLK simps we are on TikTok. Number seven..Actually that’s it.
Warning: swearing, smut and everything it entails. Also spelling mistakes? Is that a trigger warning? I think it should be a trigger warning.
Context: He’s a indie rockstar (no sh*t Sherlock) and she’s kind of an indie folk singer, I guess? Also they’re neopagans cause I like making winks to the show.
Honestly, whoever had scheduled the order of the concerts for that Festival owned Freydis a new pair of lungs. Of course her own show would overlap with her boyfriend’s, meaning she had to run all the way to the other side of the park right after spending nearly two hours singing. Thank the gods some guys from security in a golf cart had taken pity on her and given her a ride. Still, the show had already started when she finally got backstage, half afraid she might have a heart attack. So much for being in shape.
Still, she wouldn’t miss Sihtric perform for anything else in the world. Seriously, was their anything sexier than a rockstar?
The grounds around the stage were swarming with fanatics who were there to see Ragnarök perform. Not for nothing, the band was the closing act. Thousands of people who’d come to see the English band founded by Uthred Ragnarsson. To think they’d started off at the bar owned by Uthred’s father, now everybody knew their name. Finan at the drums, Uthred as the lead guitar, sweet Osferth at the keyboards, and Sihtric as the vocalist. Fortunately, because even though Uthred had started the band, he couldn’t hold a note to save his life. Sihtric could. He could hold various notes, in fact. And he looked damn good doing it. Freydis swore, little things could get her more hot-and-bothered than seeing her boyfriend on stage.
He could also make her reach unspeakable notes too, all though that was an entirely different and private kind of performance.
Something about watching Sihtric perform was just...hypnotic and breathtakingly hot. His mismatched colored eyes acquired an intensity as if he could see right through your skin and peel off your clothes with his stare alone. He became completely immersed into the song, the stage, the rhythm, all of it. He had the ability to make everyone in the audience feel like he was singing to them and them alone. But every so often, he would steal a quick glance to the side of the backstage and look straight at her with a devilish smirk. Because he knew, he knew damn well how much it turned her on to see him on stage.
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs
Again he was looking at her. The show was near the end, and his skin was shiny with a layer of sweat that made the cropped top he wore cling to his well-toned body, naturally making her think of the way that body pressed against hers, hovering, covering her completely, practically driving into her as if they could merge together into one. Freydis’s breath caught in her throat as she did her best to keep it together. She had started to ache about five songs ago, and started to feel the wetness between her thighs long before that.
That’s when she saw it. The handkerchief peeking out of his pocket, that he always wore half because of aesthetic and half because of superstition. Except it was not a handkerchief this time.
It was her fucking thong.
Freydis felt her cheeks heat up. She was fairly certain no one else had noticed, you couldn’t ready tell it was underwear unless you saw it up close. The only reason she realized was because, well, it was her underwear, she’d put it on that morning. And Sihtric had taken it off when they’d had a very brief but heated make-out session in between shows that was very rudely interrupted by her manager right after her boyfriend had taken the thong off.
He caught her looking this time and knew by her expression that she’d realized about the underwear too. His smirk only became naughtier as he dipped his hand into his pocket. Freydis’s eyes widened.
You fucking wouldn’t she thought.
Of course he didn’t, even though for a split second she had actually panicked. No, he simply took his hand off after a moment and then gripped the microphone with it before pressing it against his lips. From where she was standing, she could clearly see his tongue poke out between his lips and lick his fingers, even though the audience wouldn’t be able to tell since he was gripping the microphone.
Freydis swallowed hard. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heels and bolted off backstage. She navigated the people circulating through the hallway almost as if she was made of thin air, driven only by the need to find Sihtric’s room backstage. He’d given her the key before her own show had started. As soon as she found it, she let herself in, shut the door behind her and ran her hands through her long blonde hair.
She paced the room a couple of times, trying to cool off, but Sihtric’s eyes were still lingering on her in her head, her panties in his pocket, sweat down his forehead, the abs peeking from under the hem of his top. His husky voice singing about her hands between her thighs.
They were there before she’d even registered it. She stopped to rest her back against the nearest wall, closed her eyes and simply gave in and touched herself.
Fuck, she hadn’t actually registered how wet she was. As her fingers skimmed up the inner side of her thigh, she could feel a faint trail running down without the underwear to stop it. Her hips jerked forward when she first graced her sensitive folds.
“Shit” she whispered into the empty room. She started to rub just above her pussy in small circles, trying to keep quiet so as to not draw the attention of anyone at the other side of the door. Then, she dared to dip one finger inside, and had to bite her lip from crying out loud before inserting a second one. She brushed over her clit, the dull ache sending a shock through her entire body.
“Huh, decided to start without me, did you?”
Freydis gasped, hand falling limply to her side as she opened her eyes and found Sihtric smirking, leaning against the closed door behind him.
“I…” she felt her mouth dry “How…?”
“You forgot to lock the door, love”.
“I…did?”
Sihtric nodded. His smirk slowly disappeared as he took in her disheveled appearance. His eyes darkened “Must’ve wanted it real bad to let that slip from you mind”.
Freydis wetted her lips and slowly nodded, before raising the hand she’d been using to touch herself and extending it towards him. A small smile crossed her lips “Come kiss it better?”
Sihtric growled and covered the distance between them in two long strides, taking her hand and immediately holding it to his mouth kissing each one of her fingertips. Freydis’s breath hitched when he pressed her against the wall, his hot, sweaty body completely covering her. She gripped his side mullet and pulled it to make him lean down and kissed him hard, biting his lower lip. Sihtric groaned against his mouth, lips immediately opening to play with her tongue as if air was but a minor inconvenience. He gripped the hand that was pulling at his hair, and the one that was digging into his bicep and pinned them both above her head, holding her by her wrists with one hand. With the other, he pulled out the thong that was tugged inside his pocket and grinned naughtily.
“These…weren’t wet enough” he observed “Guess I’ve gotta be more thorough at my job”. He traced the outline of her lower lip with his thumb “Eyes on me, all right?”.
Freydis nodded, turning her face slightly to press her lips briefly against the rings around his fingers.
Slowly, he parted her skirt to the side by the opening that ran along her thigh. Freydis bit her lower lip and fought the urge to flutter her eyes close as she felt the soft fabric of her underwear against her skin. Sihtric was staring at her with that intensity that bore into her soul while he slowly started rubbing his fingers between her folds, the thong wrapped around them too. Freydis whimpered at the friction of the lace against her sensitive skin, her nails digging into the hand that was holding her wrists together. “Babe, I-Oh fuck, that feels good” she moaned.
“That’s a good girl” Sihtric praised her with a smirk “Hey, eyes on me, remember? There we go, so wet for me”.
“Mmmhm!” Freydis whimpered “Sihtric…”
“I know…I know…” he pulled his hand away, kissing her to muffle her protests as he tossed the underwear over his shoulder and this time simply started rubbing tight circles over her clit with his bare fingers.
Freydis cried out weakly “Yess” she hissed, as he slipped one finger, and then a second one inside her, starting to curl them inside her. Her hips started grinding against his hands, and this time she couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes. But Sihtric didn’t mind, he was too focused on pulling pleasure out of her while grinding his own crotch against her leg slowly, releasing small, quiet grunts.
“Let me touch you, babe” she whispered, tugging softly at her wrists “I bet that’s starting to feel painful”.
“I started to get hard when I noticed you’d left the stage” he confessed, chest heaving “I knew what you were doing”. Slowly, he let go of her hands, though not before taking them to his lips and placing butterfly kisses over each of her wrists.
It was Freydis’s turn to smirk wickedly, all though she did not keep the expression for long when Sihtric managed to squeeze a third finger inside her. Her back arched away from the wall, pressing her body against her boyfriend’s. “Ah!” she cried out weakly, resting her cheek against his shoulder “Gods...Keep going” she encouraged before dipping her own hand inside his pants and rubbing over his hard on. Sihtric growled and buckled against his hand.
“Fuck, Freydis”.
The air in the room had started to get heavy with their pants and moans that slowly increased in volume. Freydis could feel her walls started to contract on the verge of an orgasm, her cries becoming louder. Almost there…But before she had the chance to reach her orgasm, Sihtric pulled his fingers out, causing her to cry out at the lost of fullness and friction and glare at him furiously. Before she had the chance to protest, however, Sihtric kneeled in front of her. She swore each time he kneeled in front of her she got wet all over again, there was something so erotic about the way he stared up at her while he delicately picked up one of her ankles as if it was made of glass and slowly draped it over his shoulder before launching forward and closing his mouth over her flesh like a starving man.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Freydis whimpered hurriedly, her leg wrapping around his shoulders as if to pull him closer, her hand back on his hair as he pressed the flat of his tongue against her core and licked her from bottom to top before sucking on her clit. The woman tossed her head to the side, her breath becoming ragged and irregular, each one ending in a small whimper that slowly started to turn into a moan. Her boyfriend’s name rolled repeatedly from her lips like a prayer to the gods, like she had forgotten every other word she had ever spoken. Sihtric took his sweet time bringing her higher and higher, closer and closer to her release, and just when Freydis thought she couldn’t take it anymore, that she might actually pass out, his fingers joined his tongue, rubbing tight circles over her pussy and she came hard, a hoarse cry escaping her lips as Sihtric kept sucking, licking and kissing her all the way through her climax.
“Shit…You’re almost unfairly good at that, you know” she managed to gasp when he finally got back on his feet, wrapping her arm behind his neck and pulling him close for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips.
Sihtric chuckled, licking his lips to savor the trace of her on them “I am, aren’t I?” he smirked in a rare display of cockiness, as he was usually rather shy. Except when he was with her.
Freydis raised an eyebrow “Cocky, aren’t we?” she observed, before looking into his eyes with a playful pout “How about you put your cock where your mouth was?”
Sihtric growled “You greedy little thing”.
There wasn’t any lead up this time, both already too impatient, too horny to keep waiting any longer. He didn’t even lower his pants all the way through, just enough to pull himself out. Sihtric’s hands settled on her ass and picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his wrist and then he simply slammed into her, hoarse groans escaping from both of them when they were finally joined.
He began to thrust into her, starting slow but eventually speeding up as he drove deep into her. Freydis rested her hands on his shoulders to support herself and helping him by moving her own hips in sync with his. One of Sihtric’s hands was cradling the back of her neck, the other curled into a fist against the wall just above her head. Freydis angled her head to kiss him, hot and desperate. They stayed with their mouths pressed together, her moans and his groans mixing together as slowly, the tension started to build inside them.
The small orgasm took Freydis almost by surprise, especially when she realized Sihtric wasn’t stopping, chasing after his own release. She cried out louder than before in both pleasure and shock, her walls clenching around him, which caused Sihtric to growl and bury his face into her neck while Freydis tried to recover, but her hips felt weak.
“Sihtric, I…” she warned, whimpering because she was suddenly oversensitive as her boyfriend kept driving into her.
“One more” he whispered into her ear “I know you’ve got one more in you” he cursed under his breath “Fuck, I’m almost there, baby. Just one more for me”.
“I…Oh gods, babe” it was too much, but her body was already building up for another orgasm, not the small shock of pleasure she’d just had, but a real, proper orgasm. And even though her entire body felt like it was on its last nerve, it just felt too good. She whimpered, curling around him as if she wanted to melt into him. “Hold my neck” she asked “And go harder”.
“Fuuuuuck” Sihtric groaned, his hand closing softly around her neck but without really cutting her breath, as he drove into her at a brutal pace.
They both came hard, calling out for each other, chests heaving, nails digging desperately into each other’s flesh. Sihtric sunk his teeth into her shoulder, hips lurching forward before going completely still. Freydis scratched her nails down his back, leaving a red trail over his skin. Her toes curled inside her boots and she felt a couple of tears on the corner of her eyes before her sweaty body finally collapsed against the wall, Sihtric’s against her as they both went through their high, shaking with little aftershocks. They were both gasping for air, still moaning and clinging desperately to each other.
A couple of minutes went by in which they simply stayed like that until their breaths somewhat calmed down and they were finally able to open their eyes and look at each other with loving puppy eyes.
“Hi” Sihtric whispered with a sweet, dopey smile on his face.
“Hi” Freydis whispered back, nuzzling the end of her nose softly against his.
Sihtric pecked her lips “Sorry I missed your show” he rested his sweaty forehead against hers and kissed her temple.
“That’s all right. You had to prepare for yours” she assured him, pushing away some strayed locks from his face. Truly, this part was as much her favorite as the actual sex. When they both came down from their high and immediately became the softest, weakest for each other and just wanted to stay as close as possible “Sorry I missed the finale”.
Sihtric shook his head “I prefer our finale anyways, with the cute face you make when you come and your tight little-Ow!” he chuckled when Freydis hit him playfully on the shaved side of his head.
“Arse” she giggled before pecking his lips fondly “I love you”.
“I love you too” he kissed her back, running a thumb over her cheek with absolute adoration. He still marveled at times, how he had found such an extraordinary love that seemed to be made just right for him. He’d been through some really fucked up stuff growing up. Life with her, however, gave him hope that he could actually break the cycle. “I wrote a new song, you know”.
Freydis gaped at him “Already? You guys just released an album!”
Sihtric shrugged “You know how inspiration works” he grinned before his face went back to its soft, loving expression and he kissed her again before adding “It’s for you”.
“For me?”
“All my songs are for you” he smiled “Wanna hear it?”
Freydis cupped his face and pressed a deep kiss over his mouth. “Always” she whispered against his lips “All though…Can I have my underwear back first?”
“No” Sihtric grinned, smirk full or mirth “I think I’ll be keeping these as a souvenir”.
“Again!? At this rate, I’ll have none left to wear!” she protested.
“Mmm…I rather like that thought”.
“Sihtric!”
“I’m joking” he laughed, finally pulling out of her with a quiet groan and fetching something so they could clean themselves up before he returned her panties.
In that very moment, someone banged a fist against the door, and then Finan’s voice followed through the wood “Oi! If ya two lovebirds are done fucking, we’re driving to the city for drinks!”
Freydis laughed “We’ll be out in a minute!” she raised her voice.
“Hurry up! I want to get drunk!”
“You always do” Sihtric replied, shaking his head before grabbing his jacket and starting to pack his things. Freydis stepped into the small bathroom stall to splash some water on her face and fix her hair, and when she came out, her boyfriend laced his fingers with her “Let’s go. I’ll show you the song later”.
Freydis stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek “What’s it about, anyways?”
Sihtric grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her waist resting her forehead against hers “Well, if you must know, it’s about a guy asking his girl to marry him”.
#the last kingdom#the last kingdom fanfic#sihtric#sihtric the last kingdom#sihtric kjartansson#fanfic#one-shot#sihtric x OC#here goes nothing
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Last War Sneak Peek
Because they agreed to go to sleep, a little morning surprise for @sihtricfedaraaahvicius and @zaldritzosrose 😘
A sneak peek of a Rhaenerys x Sihtric fic I’m slowly working on
It had been years since Sihtric last step foot in Northumbria, since he helped Uhtred retake Bebbanburg before leaving for Westeros to join his wife in her lands. In the years since, he served as the Prince Consort and Protector of the Realm, passing Dunholm into Stiorra’s hands as a safe haven for the Danes that had been displaced when Jorvik was taken. The only reason he was back now was because of a dream Rhaenerys had spoken of, one that alarmed him enough to sail across the sea to speak to Uhtred himself.
Walking towards the gates of Bebbanburg brought forth many memories, the final bloody battle he had fought in and the bittersweet feelings of victory. He heard the sound of Abraxsas landing in the field nearby which pulled him from his melancholy, a smile gracing his face as he waited for his wife to return to his side. She strided up to him, a soft smile on her face as she saw her beloved standing there.
“You should have flown with me, Sihtric. The weather is perfect up there,” Rhaenerys spoke in her loving tone reserved for her family, a contrast from her commanding voice when she was busy being Queen.
“I am getting too old to sit the saddle of a horse, let alone a dragon,” he responded, wrapping his arms around her waist when she was close enough before kissing her sweetly, feeling her fingers tangle in his wild locks as she chuckled against his lips. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the impending doom that brought him back here, the feeling that this was the last war flitting to the back of his mind for only a moment.
Tagging: @gemini-mama @whitedarkmoonflower @legitalicat @alexagirlie @mrsarnasdelicious
@thenameswinter99 @synintheraven
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crimes Of Passion | Part 10
Pairings: Finan x OFC & Sihtric x OFC
Summary: Departure day arrives, but what will Runa do?
Wordcount: 4.3k | Part 1 | Other works.
Warnings: MDNI18+.Alcohol consumption, smoking, Oral (F receiving), Unprotected PinV, slight orgasm denial.If I have missed anything please let me know!
Authors note: I thank you for your patience while I worked through a nasty bout of writers block, but here is the final part. Thank you @arcielee for looking at the bare bones of this and offering kind words of encouragement, as always xo.
Reclining on a sofa under the dim orange light of a tall lamp and sipping on a glass of white wine, Brida watched Ragnar pacing the length of their living room waiting to hear news from Uhtred. Neither of them were startled when the telephone rang, but the voice Brida had not expected to hear on the end of the line was Runa’s.
Having grown close to the young woman she now considered to be a sister, Brida had no issue in leaving Ragnar to wait on Uhtred as she packed an overnight bag along with a bottle of whiskey she knew would be needed to survive a night of delicate emotions.
Brida had completed the gruelling task of removing every single small shard of glass that had clung to Runa’s skin, took note of every injury that her body now wore, and helped clean her up as best as she could while gently shushing Runa’s tears listening to the tale of what unfolded earlier that evening.
The pair lounged across Runa’s bed, the one room untouched by chaotic packing with everything washed in a pink tint from the red curtains, as their discussion tumbled down the rabbit hole that was Runa’s feelings for Sihtric.
“I know Sihtric being taken is why you are so scared to let him back in, but love isn’t always a weakness Runa, most times it’s a strength.” Brida calmly reasoned, fighting back her irritation that Runa wouldn’t just accept her feelings for what they were and claim her man.
“He nearly died, I don’t want to be the reason he’s in that situation again.” Runa sighed, running a tattooed finger around the rim of her glass.
“It would have happened whether you were considered a couple or not. The fact that you were only helped their cause.”
Runa shrugged a shoulder, followed by a small wince, and Brida’s growing annoyance became clear in her next words,
“Gods are you really going to let the actions of a group of turds rule how you live your life now?”
“That’s not what’s happen-” Runa started but Brida cut her off,
“Leaving, running away, whatever it is you’re doing isn’t going to change how you feel for him. The only difference is you’ll be moping there instead of here.”
“I don’t mope,” the redhead sulked.
Brida scoffed before finishing off her glass,
“But seriously Runa, other than a man, have you considered everything else you’ll be leaving behind?”
“Like what? Cnut?”
“No, you shit! Me!” Brida laughed, nudging Runa’s leg with a foot, “Don’t leave me all alone trying to juggle Ragnar and the business, plus whatever nuisances follow Uhtred.”
“Did you know Ragnar has left everything to me if something happens to him? The club, the house, everything. But we know that at least half of the men on the books are loyal to Cnut, I would need to have him as my right hand to keep everything flowing smoothly, now who do you think Cnut needs to take over his current role?”
Runa sucked in a breath before responding, “Me.”
“Yes, you. So do you know what, fuck it, go run away, just know at some point you could be called right back and we both know you aren’t going to say no to your brother. By leaving now you’ll only be postponing the bullshit you could fix first thing tomorrow.”
“And if I can’t fix it?”
“You’ll mope no doubt, find another man to distract yourself with, then move on.” Brida finished with a small shrug.
The idea of moving on sat uncomfortably in Runa’s mind as sleep struggled to find her that night.
As the days passed and blended into one blur of packing boxes, visiting with Cnut to make sure her young nephews would have everything they needed when they arrived in Denmark, and tying up loose ends at The Dunholm the day of Clapa’s funeral arrived sooner than expected.
It was already warm for late morning, not a single cloud marred the clear sky as the two firms came together once more. Runa stayed close to Brida and Ragnar during the service, only braving a look at Sihtric as they all congregated outside in the cemetery.
He was unreadable, but the subtle bags under his eyes revealed that perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping well. At his side was Finan, although the Irishman was putting on a brave face his dark eyes glittered in the sunlight, exposing the tears threatening to spill over as he said goodbye to his friend.
In the row behind stood Osferth, Runa didn’t know if it was because she hadn’t paid much attention to him recently but he no longer looked like an anxious fresh-faced boy eager to become a man. Although solemn he seemed stronger and more confident, which made her sad knowing what took place for this change to occur.
Runa had volunteered to be a designated driver for the night, she hoped to avoid any unwanted conversations happening due to a lack of filter and so far it had worked. She sat in a booth along the back wall opposite the bar of The Dunholm, at first with Brida and Gisela as they chatted idly about recent goings-on until the two women eventually drifted off as they consumed more drinks.
As the afternoon got later Osferth made his way over, the two conversed easily as he gave Runa updates on the renovations over at The Beacon and how it should be opening any day now.
But Runa noticed how if she looked Osferth in the eye he would shift and look towards his pint with a question forming on his lips but never coming.
“Osferth, ask your question.” She smiled warmly, hoping it would allow him to open up.
He took a sip of his drink and finally held eye contact,
“Did you have feelings of disgust, after you’d..”
She hummed with a nod knowing exactly where the conversation was going,
“Yes. We’re not beasts. It may have been an act of self-defence but the guilt of taking a life doesn’t care about whys or how’s.”
Finan scoffed at their exchange as he took a seat in the booth with them, “Your first wasn’t self-defence though, was it now?”
Runa sighed and rolled her eyes, she should have known he’d be keeping an eye on his younger companion,
“I told you not to believe everything my brother says.”
“It wasn’t Cnut who told us,” Finan replied, turning his whiskey glass.
“But it was him who spun the original tale.”
“So what really happened?” Osferth questioned, looking between the Irishman and Dane.
Taking a deep breath Runa shook a cigarette out of the tattered carton on the table,
“When we were kids there were a few older boys who would play rough with the girls, one day they decided it was my turn and when Cnut couldn’t find me he..”
Thinking back to the events that took place over a decade ago she placed her smoke between her lips as her engraved zippo sparked to life, “Anyway somehow he found us all, he had our father's gun and a fight broke out, he dropped it during the struggle and I thought to myself this is it, it’s them or us.”
Exhaling a thick cloud downwards she watched the smoke roll over the tabletop before continuing,
“Cnut thought it would be best to tell everyone that I just snapped, he didn’t want me to live in shame. This made people want to test me though, and over time I learned that men were uneasy around a woman who held them at gunpoint, commanding them calmly and only shrieking if it called for it. ”
Osferth lightly tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth and tapped his fingers off his pint of ale as Finan looked at Runa. His brain quickly flipped through every story Cnut had rattled off about how his sister always had a dangerous streak, that she was chaotic and couldn’t always be relied on, that she was ruled by her emotions alone and now he didn’t believe any of that.
It was simply an older brother finding ways to protect his sister without making her seem fragile.
Now he thought about it, the only time he had ever seen Runa react on emotions alone was hearing that her brother and Sihtric were taken, and when they went to retrieve them she trusted her gut when it told her they would kill Sihtric, and she had been right.
Clearing his throat Finan finally broke the silence,
“Alright, you learned how to look after yourself, that I understand. But how did you end up following your brother into this business?”
“I was the only one he truly trusted to look out for him, and for a while, it was the same for me. Now I know nothing but this life.” She shrugged.
“You don’t ever think of getting out? Going straight?”
Runa laughed, cocking her head to the side and meeting his eyes, “Do you?”
Drinks continued to flow among the mourners and Runa found herself standing at the bar with her brother and Finan, she would sneak a glance to the other end where Sihtric sat with Uhtred engaged in their private conversation that Gisela would occasionally add a comment to.
For the first time, she noticed that the lilt of Finan’s voice got stronger with the more drinks he had which made her second guess if she had heard him correctly, or perhaps she had always noticed but usually kept up with his drinking so it was never an issue. He and Cnut enthusiastically shared stories of their time in their respective homes before they ended up in London when her brother laughed heartily and clapped Finan on the back muttering he needed a piss and left the pair alone.
The Irishman threw his arm over her shoulder, sloshing his drink near her face in the process making her take the glass out of his hand,
“Okay, I don’t think you need any more of these,” Runa giggled,
“Hey look at me.” Finan’s request came huskily, as he hooked a finger under her chin turning her face to meet his golden brown stare.
His brows pulled together as he strained to focus then gave her a wide smile as the freckles framing her eyes became clear instead of a faint blur on her skin,
“I thought I could tame you,” He laughed with a slight shake of his head, “and that if I did you’d think me right for doing so and let me in, but I was wrong. You don’t need taming or changing in any way. You’re beautiful as you are, wild and free to make your own choices.”
As his smile faded with his words Runa saw the truth written all over him making her unable to pin his statement as alcohol induced.
“Finan..”
He held his hand up to shush her and took his drink back from the bar top,
“You don’t have to say anything, just know that I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m sorry too.”
Sihtric had been keeping tabs on Runa throughout the day, even as he spoke to Uhtred about the reopening of Bebbanburg’s Beacon and Gisela’s hopes of peace now that Erik and Sigefrid were no longer a threat.
He’d witnessed the embrace of Finan and Runa after a shared moment they had and for a small second a pang of jealousy hit his nerves, but Osferth soon assured him that Runa was a designated driver, it was nothing but a friend apologising for past behaviours and this put him at ease. At least one of them would get a bit of closure, he thought.
He then watched Runa struggle to wrangle up Cnut and Ragnar while Brida stood at the bottom of the stone steps with her shoes in hand laughing at the men who ran back up and down them every time she tried to get them to get them into the car at the end of the night.
It was the passing comment Gisela had made to Uhtred earlier in the night that stuck with him as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she was sad that Runa would be missing the opening night. Runa must be leaving within the next two days, why else would she be unable to attend?
A restlessness prevented Sihtric from relaxing the next morning, it was silently urging him to do something. He paced in circles around his small kitchen, his hand twitching for the bottle of rum on the counter every so often but he decided against it.
Attempting to sit in his armchair, the memory of Runa barefoot and looking panicked as she placed her revolver on his coffee table greeted him. He sighed the image of her away and began to lace his shoes as The Jive Bombers playing on the radio filled his apartment.
Rolling a cigarette for the drive with no destination in his mind the song turned to You Belong To Me, the very song Runa had hummed along to as she seamlessly applied her eyeliner at The Beamfleot. Muttering a string of curses under his breath he grabbed the car keys from the empty fruit bowl on the low table and headed out.
Sihtric didn’t bother to close the small gate behind him as he approached her front door, his top lip briefly pulling up at the idea she could turn him away. Runa answered the door sooner than he expected, taking him off guard slightly.
Neither of them said anything as they took in the sight of each other, it wasn’t until a neighbour across the road stood on their own doorstep that Runa stepped aside to let him enter.
As Runa closed the door behind him he took note of the train tickets sitting on the side table next to her purse, London Victoria, Platform two, nine o'clock.
Clearing her throat she squeezed past him in the hallway, “I’m just finishing off some packing…” she trailed off quickly making her way up the stairs.
“What day do you leave?” Sihtric asked, slowly following her.
“Tomorrow night,” Runa called over her shoulder as she disappeared into her bedroom.
“Tomorrow…” He repeated quietly, pausing on the final step and lightly tapping his hand on the bannister.
Although Runa was out of sight her shadow was visible to Sihtric who remained on that very last step, he saw the way she kept moving her head towards the door, probably wondering if he was following her or not. Even though he had told himself he wasn’t here to ask her to stay, the words were trying to bubble their way up his throat, refusing to go back down as he swallowed.
Runa emerged in the doorway, her brows knitted together, but her question came quietly, “Why did you come here?”
With a gentle shake of his head, Sihtric wet his bottom lip and opened his mouth to speak before pausing and choosing his words carefully avoided her eyes,
“I just wanted to see you, to say goodbye…”
A barely audible sigh left Runa’s lips as she stepped forward and pulled him into her, tightly wrapping her arms over his shoulders. Sihtric instinctively buried his head into her neck, soaking up the warmth of her embrace and coiling his arms around her waist.
Feeling his fingers press further into her, Runa moved a hand to the nape of Sihtric’s neck in an attempt to offer further comfort, or an attempt to offer a silent apology, she wasn’t quite sure which.
She could feel Sihtric’s pulse hammering against his skin under her fingertips, his shallow warm breaths hitting her prickling flesh from the way his lip ever so slightly brushed her neck. Runa felt the unexpected slow flow of tears work their down her cheeks to the corner of her mouth making her pull back from Sihtric to wipe at her face.
With his hazel eyes mirroring her sadness and confusion, Sihtric wiped away a stray tear she missed with his thumb, “Why are you crying?” he asked with his voice barely above a whisper.
Unsure of how to answer, Runa held Sihtric’s hand to her cheek, softly pressing her lips into the base of his palm. Tucking a strand of her copper hair behind an ear, Sihtric inched closer, brushing his thumb over her lips before gently holding her by the jaw.
She didn’t protest as he closed the small distance bringing his mouth to hers in a slow kiss. With a quiet hum, Runa grasped the front of his shirt, tugging him closer and forcing him to leave the final step of the stairs.
Walking her backwards towards the door of the bedroom and tangling his hands into Runa’s hair, Sihtric messily licked into her mouth, the desperation to have her in any way he could even if only for a moment pouring into her.
Slipping her hands under the hem of his shirt Runa breathed the question, “What are we doing?”
“Saying goodbye,” Sihtric mumbled back against her lips guiding her through the bedroom.
As clothing was removed and kisses were hurriedly placed on freshly exposed skin until they both stood completely bare, Runa perched on the edge of her bed. Sihtric knelt between her spread legs, trailing his lips along the inside of her thigh, flashing a smirk before dipping down and swiping his tongue through her folds, devilishly flicking the tip over her clit making her hips jolt at the sensation.
Falling back into the mattress Runa’s head became void of all worries, barely able to focus on anything but Sihtric’s ministrations with her legs slung over his broad shoulders, his tattooed fingers gripping the plush skin on her thighs as he worked her cunt with long slow strokes to savour her taste.
A desperate whine fell from her lips as Sihtric moved to place wet kisses on her abdomen up to the middle of her chest and manoeuvred them further up the bed. With his hips nestled between her thighs, Sihtric pushed his cock into her warm walls inch by inch, his lust-laden gaze focused on how Runa’s eyes fluttered shut as he stretched her out bit by bit agonisingly slow.
Ghosting his lips over hers he rasped, “Eyes on me.”
He hummed in approval seeing the blue of her iris being swallowed by her blown pupils and took her hands in his, placing them on either side of her head and laced their fingers together.
The languid rolls of his hips had trembling gasps escaping Runa’s mouth as her nails bit into the back of Sihtric’s hands, a feeble attempt at staying grounded while a fire began to grow in her veins under the weight of him.
Sihtric felt every shift in her body and took in every minuscule detail he could. The way her jaw began to go slack, her skin growing warmer by the second, each hard swallow she took breaking the sweet noises tumbling from her lips, how she delicately nudged her nose with his silently asking for a kiss. He wanted to remember it all.
Runa lost count of how many times he would stop rutting into her just as the slight fluttering of her walls around his length began. Her choked sobs with each denial had Sihtric’s cock throb inside her, he wanted the release as much as she did but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
When he finally allowed them to fall apart together he felt drunk on Runa’s shakey moans that filled the room. Untangling their hands, Sihtric laid on her chest listening to the rapid beating of her heart slowly return to a normal pace while she softly raked her hands through his hair.
They stayed tangled together in silence, just listening to the other breathe until the sun began to set, casting the room into a golden glow.
Sihtric didn’t know what words to say as they parted on her doorstep, but the way she stood with her eyes on the floor reminded him of the morning he drove her home. With a small smile, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and she turned to give him a final quick peck, pushing him away with a closed fist.
Runa stood there watching him leave, he gave no final glance over his shoulder as he drove away. She had no coherent thoughts about anything that had transpired, instead, she carried on packing her things in a near-hypnotic state, floating through the motions on autopilot without a care.
It was a different story in the morning, she was all too aware of the lingering scent of Sihtric, how empty the house was looking with everything in boxes, and how in a few hours she would be at Cnut’s to collect his wife and sons to sit on a train that would take her to Paris, and a second on to Denmark.
Now sitting on top of her sister-in-law's large trunk with her own smaller suitcases to the side, Runa had her chin resting in a hand, one leg crossed over the other and her foot restlessly making circles in the air.
She kept an eye on the two young red-haired boys as they excitedly ran up and down the platform, weaving in and out of the strangers also standing by waiting for the train that would take them from London to Paris through the night.
As the hands on the large black iron clock got closer and closer to nine o'clock the pit in her stomach grew larger, threatening to push bile up her throat. Runa had sworn to Cnut when they fled from Denmark all those years ago that she would never run away from a place she called home ever again, yet here she was, running away and it sat heavily on her chest.
At eight fifty the screeching of the train's wheels against the tracks and hiss of its steam engine as it came to a stop had Runa closing her eyes at the realisation of what she was doing.
She was no longer sure if this was the right thing to be doing, leaving her life along with Sihtric behind her. If they had met when she first arrived in London would she still be doing this? Runa couldn’t be sure.
But what she did know for certain at this moment was that she didn’t want their shared time or the small details of him that had engrained themselves into her brain to slip away, memories have a habit of fading and she didn’t want him to become a hazy blur, like a dream she would never be able to fully piece back together.
As she ushered her nephews onto the train behind their mother she stood on the step, one unsteady hand resting on the open window of its door.
Across the city, the newly opened gentleman's club Bebbenbrug’s Beacon had opened its doors to old and new patrons. The dark wooden floors were no longer scuffed and worn but fresh and renewed, the old ale and whiskey barrels that previously decorated the walls had been repurposed with a coat of varnish to make up smaller round tables.
In place of the old rectangular bar was now an elegant curved bar gilded with shiny brass decor. Snooker tables had been relocated to an area further down into the building with tall stools nestled under mounted wall tables for participants or onlookers, the alcoves now housed cosy seating if a guest was wanting a more private outing.
“So, she’s gone then?” Osferth questioned Sihtric who was in the middle of a snooker game with Finan.
Sihtric frowned at his missed pot as he answered flatly, “Her train is at nine.”
“Don’t want to go down there, y’know, see her off?” Finan piped up.
“I’ve already said goodbye. If she were going to stay she would have made that decision yesterday.”
Sihtric chalked his cue while trying his best to focus on the snooker table, the odd flash of Runa appearing in his mind when he saw the slim crescent-shaped bruises on the backs of his hands. As the game continued he beat down the thought that maybe if he had asked, even against her wishes, she would have said yes to staying.
That way he wouldn’t be stood at the furthest end of the club on the very last snooker table sulking over a too-small glass of whiskey while chain-smoking and despising the laughter of Uhtred’s new club members. She would be there beside him, asking for one of his hand-rolled cigarettes and stealing sips of his drink instead of getting her own.
He imagined her blue eyes staring at him from across the table, goading him in an attempt to throw him off his game, or perhaps they wouldn’t even be there, they’d be at home, enjoying each other’s company alone and away from the curious gaze of strangers.
Daring to glance up at the clock, Sihtric's stomach sank and his mouth grew dry. It was quarter past nine. Before his thoughts could swallow him whole Finan put a fresh drink down in front of him,
“Look at us, two miserable bastards in one of the finest establishments the city has to offer.” The Irishman sassed hoping to get rid of the scowl on his friend’s face.
The corner of Sihtric’s mouth twitched up as he lit another cigarette, “You’re up, actually try this round, please.”
Finan took up his position with a chuckle just before his smile dropped, “Uh, what time did you say Runa’s train was again?”
The rich sound of heels clicking on the new wood flooring suddenly hit Sihtric’s ears as the chatter around him grew quiet. It wasn’t until the steps stopped beside him and his cigarette was gently plucked from his fingers that he turned to look at her.
A small smile played on Runa’s lips as she stared up at Sihtric from under her lashes.
End Notes: Thank you for reading my brainrot 🖤 The masterlist for this series has been updated with a playlist for this series if you're interested in that kind of thing xo
Taglist: @emilyhufflepufftlk @finanmoghra @deandoesthingstome @gemini-mama
#the last kingdom fanfic#sihtric x oc#finan x oc#tlk fanfic#sihtric fanfic#finan fanfic#tlk fanfiction
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Captive Part 4
Sihtric x OC
Authors note: it took me a while to write the ending as I constantly kept changing my mind 😉.
Warning: quite fluffy, suggestive with some light smut at the end. Nothing very serious.
Summary: Sihtric is sent to Heasten’s camp to spy and discovers the Danes have a captive – young Saxon girl he just can’t leave to her fate.
Word Count: 4,048
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
-----------------------------------------------
Elfflead couldn't help but steal glances at Sihtric who had placed himself by the fire and deliberately avoided looking in her direction. She was deeply disappointed, to say the least.
She was disheartened and anger surged within her. She had never felt anything comparable before. There at the fireplace sat a man that made her heart leap and her cheeks blush. She liked everything about him – the scar on his cheek, the crazy hairstyle with curly black hair falling over his right eye while the other side of his head was cleanly shaved, his strong and muscular arms, his broad chest. She had never seen a man more handsome than him, and she did not care that he was a Dane. Strength, confidence, and assertiveness radiated from him and when he had been looking at her before compassion, delight and respect mirrored in his eyes. He could have had her, she longed for him to claim her, to be her first lover and the first one to teach her the art of loving a man. Yet, he had refused. Elfflead was devastated and questioning herself about what she had done wrong, but she was so overwhelmingly tired, that her eyes started to slowly close against her will and eventually a deep sleep overtook her.
Sihtric kept his gaze fixed on the crackling fire. He was so angry at himself. What had possessed him to involve himself with this young, noble lady? She appeared so delicate, breathtakingly beautiful, and profoundly trusting. The way she looked at him with admiration drove him to madness; it was evident that she viewed him as her saviour and was desperate and reliant on him. He had freed her, and now it was his responsibility to bring her back home to her family, to her normal life. Once this was done, he knew she would be overwhelmed by shame for her vulnerability and would dread of what nearly happened this night. She would want to erase him from her memory as swiftly as possible, to never be reminded of his existence. There was no future for them, and if he were to exploit her vulnerability tonight, her destiny would be forever sealed with disgrace and dishonor. The best thing she could hope for would be confinement in a monastery, taking vows as a nun. No nobleman would ever consider marrying her. This was not something Sihtric was willing to accept. He would never want to impose such a fate on a woman he already knew he cared deeply about. He was determined to bring her home and disappear from her life, yet he was profoundly astonished by the physical pain this thought caused him—his stomach clenched, and a weird lump formed in his throat.
After a while he couldn’t resist anymore and casted a hidden glimpse at Elfflead. She had fallen asleep, her back resting against the cave wall. Rising to his feet, he approached her cautiously. Asleep and bathed in the flickering firelight, she seemed even more beautiful to him. He went down on his knee next to her, took her in his arms and laid her down carefully on one side of his cloak, caringly covering her with the remaining part of it. He lingered a moment and overwhelmed by his emotions, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss upon her forehead.
“You are safe. I promise, my love,” he whispered, before standing upright and returning to the fireplace.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The wild run through the woods had left Elfflead utterly drained, her legs constantly giving way beneath her. The last tumble made her even unable to get up on her own, and tears welled up in her eyes as she couldn’t hold them back anymore. She wept in anger at her own lack of stamina and feeling of being nothing but a burden and hindrance. It was obvious that Sihtric could have reached Uhtred's camp long ago if it weren't for her. There was no sign of tiredness in his demeanour as if there were no limits to his strength and endurance. He hadn’t slept the night before or at least very little, as Elfflead remembered him sitting awake by the fire when sleep finally overcame her and he woke her with the first lights of the dawn, yet his movements were steady and purposeful as before, his pace didn’t slower, and his feet never stumbled.
“Please, just leave me,” she begged through tears. It was just the opposite of what she had wanted the previous night, when the mere thought of Sihtric abandoning her in the cave and embarking on his journey alone had terrified her. Without a single word Sihtric helped her to her feet, placing her arm around his neck and wrapping his around her waist. She leaned so heavily on him that it was almost as if he carried her, yet they continued.
As the flickering glow of Uhtred's campfires pierced through the dense forest, Elfflead could hardly believe that they had finally made it. The sentries recognised Sihtric instantly and guided them towards the central fireplace where Sihtric carefully lowered her onto a big tree trunk. The sudden feeling of relief overwhelmed Elfflead as she tried to gather the remnants of her strength. In the following moment, her balance faltered, and she would have fallen from the trunk had Sihtric not noticed it and seized her. His strong arms holding her was the last thing she remembered before everything went dark before her eyes.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elfflead woke up in a bed. She opened her eyes and studied her surroundings. The room seemed oddly familiar as she examined the wooden ceiling, the walls, window, and the furniture. Slowly, the realization struck her—she was home. She was lying in her own bed. She jumped out of it and rushed towards the window. The sight of the familiar inner yard of her father's estate left her in awe. Just as she stood there, the chamber door swung open, and a maid entered. Spotting Elfflead at the window, the maid gasped in astonishment and hurried towards her with a joyous cry: "Lady, praised be God! You are awake!"
Elfflead's father burst into the room just a moment later. He embraced her and kissed her gently on her forehead.
“My dear child! I was so afraid I had lost you!” he whispered with tears in his eyes. Elfflead had always known her father loved her, but this overwhelming display of emotions caught her off guard. She embraced him in return and buried her face in his broad chest. “Father,” she was sobbing, “I thought I would never… “. Her voice broke, and unable of speaking, she just wept in relief.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Elfflead was finally dressed and descended to the great hall, she saw Uhtred there pacing around like a captured wild animal.
“Please be patient for a moment, Lord Uhtred,” she heard her father’s voice. “God be praised, she is awake and appears unharmed. We will finally hear from her what happened.”
“You doubt my word, Lord? “Uhtred growled in anger.
“I do trust you, Lord Uhtred,” her father responded. “Yet I could not trust that Dane of yours who claimed to have rescued her. I couldn’t. I need to hear it from Elfflead herself. No harm has been done to him. I promised he would be released once my daughter confirms his words. If they prove true, he will be rewarded. I will not remain ungrateful to the man who had saved my daughter’s life.”
Elfflead couldn’t believe what she heard. Hastily she descended the steps toward her father with a question written on her face.
“What do you mean, father?” Elfflead asked in astonishment, “What has happened to Sihtric?”
“Sihtric?” Elffleads father was not less surprised.
“Yes, Sihtric. I speak of the warrior who risked his life to free me from the Danish camp, who kept me safe all the way to Lord Uhtred, who carried me, when I could not walk anymore…” Elfflead's words flowed forth with such fervour that both her father and Uhtred were taken aback.
“Father, if not for him, I would surely not be standing here before you now.”
“Child, please calm down,” Elfflead’s father pleaded. ”I haven’t done anything wrong. I only wanted to hear from you that he treated you with respect and caused no harm.”
“Where is he?”, Elfflead snapped.
“He is in the dungeon,” Uhtred interjected.
“What?” Elfflead could hardly believe her ears. Spinning around, she sprinted toward the door. She run down the stairs and raced across the yard to the entrance in the underground. Rushing down the steps she only halted upon reaching the guards who were playing dice near the inner door. Her eyes fell upon the keyring lying in the center of the table, and without a moment's pause, she snatched it.
“Lady, what in God's name are you doing?” one of the guards managed to exclaim, but Elfflead paid no attention to them, neither did she stop to explain anything. She was already darting down the next flight of stairs. The air in the dungeon was thick and heavy, the mixed smell of sweat, blood and filth caught her breath and she almost choked. All cells stood empty but one. Glancing to her right, she caught sight of a man slumped against the wall one leg stretched out on the floor and the other bent, his arm resting upon it. It appeared he had dosed off. Though she knew she would find him here, Elfflead gasped for breath, her heart pounding, as she recognised Sihtric. She headed to his cell and inserted the key into the lock. The sound of the key turning startled Sihtric, his eyes widening in disbelief as he glanced towards the door and saw Elfflead standing before him.
“Lady, what are you doing here?” Sihtric’s voice betrayed utter astonishment. Elfflead, already kneeling beside him, cupped his handsome face in her palms, and pressed her forehead against his.
“What have they done to you? Are you injured? Are you unharmed?” Questions erupted from her, her gaze scanning his face and arms for any signs of mistreatment. And in the next instant, she leaned in and kissed his lips. It was a tender and timid kiss, catching the young Dane entirely off guard. A soft moan escaped his lips as he responded to her kiss with equal gentleness, but in the same instant the weight of the reality crashed upon him. Placing his hands on Elfflead's cheeks, he gently pushed her back.
“Elfflead, what are you doing here?” he repeated his question, his gaze fixed firmly upon the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.
“You promised to keep me safe and bring me home. And you kept that promise,” she whispered softly. “You also said I could decide what I want from you,” Elfflead continued, “and I have made my choice.”
Elfflead paused, her words hanging in the air, as Sihtric continued to stare at her. No, he was swallowing her with his big, mismatched eyes, a mixture of astonishment, concern, and anticipation etched upon his features.
“I want you, Sihtric Kjartanson,” Elfflead’s answer was so unexpected that Sihtric released her, frozen in disbelief and looked at her for a moment in complete bewilderment. “And nothing is going to change that,” she persisted.
Sihtric raised his hands to cover his eyes and shook his head.
“No, no, no …. This is madness. It’s simply not possible,” he muttered, lowering his hands and gripping Elfflead’s shoulders, shaking her gently but firmly.
“Are you out of your mind? Lady, look at me!” he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. “What do you see? Do you think I’m some prince charming from a fairy tale that rescued you from a dragon’s lair, and now we can live happily ever after? You are lost in a daydream, still overwhelmed by what has happened. I am honoured and grateful for your attention, but it’s just not possible. I have nothing to offer you. Can’t you see where I am? I'm trapped in this wretched cell because even your own father doubted my intentions when I told him I saved you and brought you to Uhtred. He couldn't believe that I didn't harm you, merely because I am a Dane. Do you think he would ever approve of his daughter being with someone like me?" Sihtric’s voice was full of anger. He did not want to say this, and these words hurt him as much as he could see them hurting Elfflead. However, it was the truth, that needed to be spoken out. She was too young to fully understand or even imagine what it meant to be with a Dane and a warrior. This fairy tale just simply couldn’t have a happy ending.
“I don’t want this. Can you hear me? I don’t want you, foolish girl,” Sihtric gritted his teeth and upon hearing the approaching footsteps he swiftly pushed Elfflead away from him, just before her father and Uhtred entered the dungeon, followed by the guards.
“Elfflead!” her father exclaimed not understanding what was happening.
“I only wanted to correct your mistake,” Elfflead responded calmly, rising to her feet. “This man saved my life and treated me with the utmost respect through all our journey. Yet, instead of gratitude, you ordered him to be imprisoned,” she spoke with anger in her voice. “He is the most honourable man I have ever met, and you owe him not only my life, but also my dignity. If not for him, you wouldn’t have a daughter now. I believe you should apologise to this young warrior, father,” Elfflead continued and rushed out of the cell as she was unable to hold back her tears.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elfflead had spent the entire afternoon in her chambers. She was angry and confused. She had believed that the young Dane had feelings for her. The passionate kiss they had shared in the cave still lingered in her memory – the taste of his lips and tongue, the touch of his hands on her bare skin beneath her dress, the sound of his accelerated breath and heartbeat. And yet he had dismissed her so easily, declaring that he did not want her. Elfflead felt as though he viewed her as a spoiled, conceited, and foolish girl, incapable of understanding her own desires and unable to accept the consequences of her decisions
Elfflead was well aware what it would mean if she were to leave this protected household to be with a low born warrior and a Dane. Despite her father's deep love for her, she knew he would never understand or approve that. But despite all the consequences, she was willing to do that. Did Sihtric consider her so weak that she couldn’t live without the comforts she was used to? Who was he to think so of her? What right did he have to judge her? With each passing moment her anger grew stronger, fuelling her determination to confront this arrogant and ignorant Dane and tell him how wrong he was. Elfflead put on her cloak and went downstairs. The big hall was quiet and deserted. Spotting a maid, she asked whether she knew where to find lord Uhtred and his companions.
“They went to the tavern in the village, my lady,” came the response.
Elfflead had never set foot in a tavern in her entire life. Her father had always insisted that it was not a suitable place for a lady, and they had never had a reason to visit one. Even during their travels to Lundene or Winchester, they would stay with her father's friends. However, her determination to find and confront Sihtric was driving her towards the gates and before long, she found herself heading to the village, just a few minutes’ walk away. She found the tavern rather quickly guided by the noise and laughter coming from it.
Entering the tavern, Elfflead scanned the room in search of Uhtred, and there he was, sitting at a table in the far corner, surrounded by his companions, including Sihtric. Pausing for a moment, she drew her cape further over her head and cautiously made her way to a free table near Uhtred's group. The table she chose was conveniently positioned behind a pole, providing her with some cover while allowing her to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Sihtric, I haven’t seen such a sour expression on your face in ages,” Uhtred chuckled. ”The young lady must have made quite an impression on you, hasn’t she?” he teased the Dane, who was clenching his ale cup with such a force that his knuckles turned white.
“You did the right thing”, Uhtred said with a serious tone, placing a comforting arm on Sihtric’s shoulder. “That young thing wouldn’t have lasted a week in Cochem without her maids, servants and silk dresses.”
“Then why do I feel like a bloody idiot?” Sihtric snarled back at Uhtred in frustration.
“You’ll forget about her as soon as we set off to kick Heasten’s arse. If we manage to defeat him, we’ll achieve two things at once – punish him for kidnapping the young lady and prevent him from joining Ragnalls forces,” Uhtred continued. “Her father rewarded us so generously, that you’ll have enough gold to afford the finest whores in Lundene for years to come. Speaking of which, I spotted a particularly pretty one in the back chambers. You should pay her a visit, my friend.”
“I think I’ll do just that,” Sihtric snarled angrily, abruptly rising from his seat and heading towards the door.
“Hey, the whores are in the back chambers! You’re going the wrong way!” Uhtred called after him, but Sihtric paid no attention. He kicked a stool in his path with such a fury, that one of its legs snapped, before storming out of the tavern, not noticing Elfflead who hastily followed him.
Sihtric was unsure of where to go. Uhtred had arranged rooms for each of his men in the tavern so that they could have a good sleep before leaving next day. But sleep was the last thing on Sihtric's mind. He aimlessly wandered until he found himself near the stables, his gaze fixated on a large pole before him. Acting on instinct, he struck the pole with all the strength in his fist, and then again and again until his knuckles were bloodied.
“What are you doing?” a voice, so familiar and dear to him asked from the shadows behind. Startled Sihtric turned around as if struck on the head.
“Elfflead? What in the bloody hell... How much longer do you plan on playing with me? Are you so bored of your privileged life? Don’t you understand that you are hurting me?” he asked, and his voice trembled. Elfflead stood there, stunned by his words.
“Hurting you? It is me who was supposed to be hurt. You rejected me, claimed you didn’t want me, and called me foolish. What right do you have to decide what is best for me?” Elfflead was throwing her words at him in pure anger. “I offered you my love and you just trampled upon it, treating it as if it were worthless. You insulted me!” With each sentence, she came closer and closer until she stood directly before Sihtric, her small fists pounding against his chest. Not that it did much damage to the imposing warrior. He remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the small, fierce creature that was letting her anger out on him. Unable to contain himself any longer, he seized Elfflead’s wrists and as she struggled to free her herself and continue her assault, he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against hers.
This was not a gentle kiss. Sihtric put all his passion and frustration in that kiss. He did not want to be gentle. He wanted to show this little foolish girl who he really was.
He bit her lower lip making her gasp and forced his entrance in her mouth with his tongue, exploring each and every corner of it, licking and sucking at her tongue, biting her lip again. With a jerk he pulled her even closer, grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back while his lips went down kissing her throat, biting, and sucking at her skin, leaving bruises, and forcing her to moan in pain and pleasure simultaneously. His mouth was sliding ever lover to her collarbone and down to her breasts. Elfflead was taken aback by this sudden change and Sihtric’s roughness, but it did not repel her. Just the opposite, her heart raced, her thighs and knees trembled, and an unfamiliar sensation settled in the lover part of her stomach and between her legs, until she suddenly realised how wet she had become there.
Sihtric’s one hand still firmly hold Elfflead in place against his chest, while the other pulled up her dress and squeezed her but digging his fingers in her soft skin with no mercy. With the same rough grip, he slid his hand down her thighs lifting up her leg. Suddenly he let down her leg, placed his hand on her stomach and slid it beneath her undergarments, going further down. Elfflead whimpered loudly at his touch as she felt his hand between her legs and her eyes widened as Sihtric suddenly pushed two fingers inside her.
“Is that what you want?” Sihtric was whispering in her ear. ”I could take you right now and here. I have been craving for you since the moment I entered that damn tent. Think lady, think carefully. If I do it, no Saxon man will ever marry you. You will be doomed to become my women and pleasure me in all the ways I will want it. There will be no maids, no servants, no soft and cosy life of a noble lady. Just you and your rough warrior man.”
“Sounds like a perfect life,” Elfflead whispered back in Sihtric’s ear, wrapping her hands around his neck, and pulling herself up to kiss him. And this time it was not a gentle and timid kiss, she placed all her longing and passion in that kiss, licking Sihtric’s lips and biting him just as he had done it before. She slid her tongue in his mouth, licking and sucking his tongue, showing what a quick learner she was. Sihtric groaned in pleasure and tightened his grip on Elfflead. With a quiet moan he pulled back and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the smell of her skin. Suddenly his lips on her neck become gentle. He was sliding his tongue over the bruises he had made just a moment ago and placed soft kisses all over her neck down to her breasts and then went up again to reach her lips. He withdrew his hand from between her legs and Elfflead whimpered in protest.
“No, my love. Not here and not like this,” Sihtric whispered his voice hoarse with longing. Effortlessly he lifted Elfflead in his arms, pressing her against his broad chest, and carried her back to the tavern and up the outer stairs to the rooms. He closed the door behind them with a gentle push of his foot. Settling her down, he pressed her against the door with his body, their foreheads touching as he lovingly caressed her cheek.
“Say it again,” he begged staring in her eyes. “Say that you want me and that you will not regret this.”
“I want you, Sihtric! I am changing my soft and cosy life for you, for the chance to pleasure you in all the ways you’ll show me and want me,” Elfflead whispered her lips and tongue teasingly touching Sihtric’s ear lip. Her words and the soft touch of her tongue made Sihtric lose all his remaining composure, he groaned loudly like a wild animal, lifted her up wrapping her legs around his waist and carried her to his bed.
And later in the night when Elfflead was moaning and crying out his name arching her back in indescribable pleasure, digging her nails in Sihtric’s back she knew she had made the right choice. The best choice of her life.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter One; Should I Touch It?
Note; I'm shitting bricks right now cause I've never done anything like this before, and it's been ages since I've written anything AND let people see it, so 🧍🏻♀️ im fine, everything is fine, no one panic
Warnings; no warnings but no Uhtred and the pretty boys :( just an opportunity to meet the charity and set the scene!
Word Count; 1175
🦢 🦊 🦢 🦊
"Before the stronghold at Dunholm was recaptured by King Guthred of Northumbria's army, it was in the hands of Vikings for some years. The lord there was Kjartan the Cruel, and as you can imagine, he wasn’t a kind man." The tour guide smiled thinly, "He had a son, Sven, who likely died at the battle of Dunholm alongside his father. And, as far as we know, that is where Kjartan's bloodline ended."
The tour guide took a quick glance at his watch, “Before we move on to the main attraction, I’ll give everyone a few minutes to look at the trinkets and tools that were found beneath our very feet!”
The moment the tour guide stopped recounting the history around them, Erin linked arms with her childhood best friend, Ivy. She pulled the redhead along, pointing at every object with some explanation or theory as to what everything was. Ivy held no interest in this subject, but Erin’s excited and non-stop babbling had Ivy smiling so wide, her cheeks hurt.
“This is so cool!” Erin said, “Isn’t this so cool? Do you see how old everything is! People held these things! Vikings! Saxons!” Erin pointed at some sort of handle, “Maybe a Saxon dog played fetch with that!”
“What makes you think a Saxon dog was doing that?” She laughed.
“Could have been a Viking dog, I don’t know Ivy, I just know that,” She pointed at the handle, “would have been perfect for mediaeval fetch.”
After several minutes of squabbling, the tour guide interrupted them with a clap of his hands and a knowing smile that uplifted his mouth, “Now for the main attraction…a piece of the stronghold itself!”
Ivy untangled herself from Erin, took a few steps backwards towards the rest of the tourists. “Uh huh, okay, well while you’re contemplating about mediaeval dog toys, I’m gonna go see that super special rock you keep going on about.” She teased.
The gloomy inside of the small museum was a whole different world compared to the warm comfort of the sun. It beamed down on Ivy and for just a moment, it was lovely to be out of the darkness of the museum. Unfortunately, English weather wasn't nice weather. The air turned muggy and the heat amped up and up and up until small beads of sweat gathered at her hairline. Ivy grunted.
She felt someone's arm draped around her shoulders. Already knowing who it was, she tilted her head up several inches and was met with Erin's dark eyes.
"It's too hot for contact." Ivy mumbled.
Erin ignored her as she said, “You realise that ‘super special rock’ you keep teasing me about is an actual piece of the fortress that actually stood here a thousand odd years ago.” Erin bent down to whisper as to not disturb the tour guide, “It was one of the best defended fortresses!”
Ivy hummed.
Erin squinted.
“And you know what else?”
“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.” Ivy said.
Erin grinned, “Well, Mr Tour Guide here says King Guthred defeated the Vikings but there was never any evidence he was even at the battle, he just ordered it.”
“So? Aren’t kings just supposed to sit back, relax, grow fat and commit sins?”
“Well, Alfred The Great used to go into battle, most kings did. So, why didn't Guthred?”
Ivy shrugged.
The brunette let out a long, defeated, overly dramatic sigh, “So…aren’t you curious as to the whys, the whens, the hows, the whos?”
“I’m more interested in cutting people up and making their insides better.”
“People actually believe you’re some kind of saint,” Erin muttered, “you check all the boxes: trainee doctor, freckles, big eyes, soft spoken but you know what?”
Ivy shrugged, faux innocence in her eyes.
“You’re fucking nuts.”
Ivy laughed, and immediately covered her mouth when several tourists turned to glare. She apologised softly and made an over enthusiastic attempt to listen to the guide. The girls decided to continue their walk in silence, to avoid any more deadly stares. They walked along a large expanse of greenery. Trees loomed large in the distance, and hills dipped and curved like waves.
The tour guide stopped and the group followed suit.
“This here is the remaining stone from what is believed to be the Dunholm Fort.”
Erin squealed and dragged Ivy to the front.
And just as Ivy expected…it was rather unexceptional. It was a big lump of degraded smooth, grey stone. It was nothing to call home about, and Ivy felt guilty when she didn’t share the same awe as her history obsessed friend.
“Well?” Erin grinned.
Ivy nodded. “It’s a, uh, nice rock.”
Erin rolled her eyes. She looked back at the (seemingly) unimportant rock. If you were anyone else, no one would blink an eye to it. But Erin knew. Erin became obsessed with Viking history the moment she was told her family had connections to Ragnar the Fearless. Little five years old Erin ran around her garden, pretending she was a Viking. She screamed fierce battle cries and swung a sturdy stick at trees as if they were the enemy. She would pretend, in that imaginary world of hers, that all the kids on the playground would have been afraid if she were a Viking.
Erin stared at the stronghold piece. She kept staring even as the tour guide made it known it was time to move on. Even when Ivy made a move to join them, Erin kept staring.
Ivy turned to see if her friend had followed. Her face softened at the awe on Erin’s face. She walked back over to her side.
“It’s like if you saw the first ever notes of the bloke who invented penicillin.”
Ivy couldn’t help but laugh, “Alexander Fleming but I get your point.”
Ivy took her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
A shy smile lifted the corners of Erin’s mouth.
“Let’s sit here and appreciate this super cool rock.” Ivy said, and brought Erin to sit with her before Erin could protest that Ivy didn’t need to do this.
Silence passed between the friends comfortably. Neither needing or wanting to say anything, simply appreciating the quiet bond that passed between them. It had taken Erin a long time to realise there didn’t have to be awkwardness in silence, although she could never muster it for long.
“Should I touch it?”
“Excuse me?”
Erin pointed at the rock. “I think I should touch it.”
Ivy examined the rock, and cocked her head. “There isn’t a sign saying you can’t touch it.”
A slow, mischievous smile slid its way up Erin’s lips. “It feels scandalous.”
“Erin.” Ivy took a breath, “Touching a rock isn’t scandalous.”
“It’s a famous rock.”
“It’s not that famous.”
“I’m gonna touch it.”
Their hands still intertwined, Erin used her free one to reach out to the rock. There was no buzz or feeling or wrongness in the action. There was nothing at all. She’d barely grazed the rock’s smooth surface when everything turned upside down.
#the last kingdom#tlk fandom#ewanverse#tlk fanfic#the last kingdom fanfiction#osferth#sihtric#osferth x oc#sihtric x oc
15 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
killmepls-1
HAH, i no!
neverendingfaye
Faye
tresmultiworld
Tre's Multi World
beckiema
Random Musings of A Mental Mind
golden-moonchild
failing upwards