@xlittlestarling / xlittlestarling.tumblr.com
A/N: A massive thank you to @axe-does-writing for beta reading this for me, you're the best 🥰
This is set during season 4 as the Coocham squad are travelling through Mercia to avoid the sickness.
Warnings: symptoms of sickness, angst, keeping secrets, established relationship
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or GIF
pairing: finan x fem!oc word count: 3556 content warning: this fic deals explicitly with the trauma of sexual assault. while there are no drawn out, graphic scenes, it is made explicitly clear what is going on. for context: oc is uhtred's daughter and was captive in dunholm for all her childhood. proceed with caution. additionally, expect canon typical attitudes, behaviors, violence, etc.
“i wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery and i can wish that all i want, but it won't bring us together plus, i know whatever happens to me, i know it's for the better" –phoebe bridgers, waiting room
A week had passed since her father left at the behest of King Alfred, and Ravna spent each day with Osferth in the woods, allowing him to teach her all about the Christian religion. She was not sure she believed any of it— a pregnant virgin was just a bit too absurd for her— but they made for good stories. She thought of the Romans, and the Greeks before them. How many different gods had they believed in? How many gods before them had been worshiped? For this reason alone, Ravna could not count anything out. Or could she believe in anything at all?
“Monk! I had a thought,” Ravna said, finding Osferth in the alehouse.
He was sitting with Finan, but she chose to ignore the other man. Osferth’s brows shot up upon seeing her. She did not make a habit of entering the alehouse, often finding it too loud and the men too abrasive. Osferth put down his mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You say your god is good, yes?”
“Uh, yes. He is all good, just as He is all powerful.”
“If He is both, then how can He allow evil to exist?”
This was what Ravna did not understand. She had long since accepted that her father’s gods, if they did exist, cared little for her. Her father’s gods never claimed to be all good. But Osferth’s god did. Osferth’s god positioned himself as a father who loved his children. If she was this all-good and all-powerful god’s child, she could not fathom why he allowed for her to be abused as she was.
“He did not create evil,” Osferth said.
She scrunched her face at him. “But you said evil and sin comes from Eve eating the apple because Satan told her to, and Satan was created by God, was he not?”
“But God also created free will. He does not control us, Ravna.”
“If God created free will and bestowed it upon people with the option and opportunity for evil, then He created evil!”
A few eyes were looking their way, certainly whispering about her outburst. Finan glanced around the alehouse and leaned across the table.
“Hey, just take a breath now, ceann bheag.”
She rounded on him, eyes narrowed. What gave him the right to tell her to do anything?
“I believe I was talking to Osferth, not you,” she hissed, relishing in the fact that he actually leaned back in shock from her ire being turned on him. Sniffing, she looked back at Osferth. “I do not find myself satisfied with your response. Think on it some more and find me in the morning with better answers.”
Osferth cracked a smile, despite the uncomfortable tension between her and Finan.
“Are you hoping to convert, Lady?” Osferth asked teasingly.
“Maybe if I find you convincing enough,” Ravna responded in the same tone. She stuck her tongue out briefly and smacked the tabletop. “Right, then. I’m getting myself a drink.”
Both men looked shocked, which she took some pride in. Still, it was rather annoying. But, if it took her sitting in the alehouse for hours on end and drinking until her vision blurred for them to see her as the grown woman she was, she would do it. She would show her father and Finan both. She had no need for a nursemaid.
Coin purse in hand, she sidled up to the counter and held her chin high. Men were crowded all around her, but she refused to waver. She had something to prove.
“Lady Ravna.”
Ceolmund, the second son to the alehouse and tavern owners, stood behind the counter. His older brother, Alewulf, was somewhat of a warrior and had gone north with her father.
“Hello,” she said. “I would… like a pitcher of ale, please.”
Ceolmund’s smile was a bit crooked. “You drink with your father’s men, lady?”
She pursed her lips. “And what of it?”
“I am surprised,” he said.
Then, he looked around and leaned in, beckoning her closer. Confused, Ravna complied. Ceolmund’s lips brushed along her ear and she bit back a gasp in surprise.
“Tonight is the full moon, Lady. When the moon is at its peak, come to the mouth of the river so you need not drink with your father’s men.”
She pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “What happens tonight?”
He grinned ear to freckly ear. It would be a bitter lie to say she was not intrigued.
“Us young people get to live,” he said.
“Very well,” Ravna said. “I will join you.”
“Good!” He smacked the counter for good measure. “I’ll go get your ale now, Lady.”
When she returned, she must have been grinning as well. Osferth’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead and he turned to Finan, who was staring at Ravna with his mouth agape.
“What?” she asked.
“What did he say to you?” Osferth asked.
“Nothing,” Ravna said simply, pouring herself a mug of ale.
“No, he said something!”
She rolled her eyes. “Osferth, I am allowed to have friends other than you, no?”
He deflated a bit and took a deep sip from his mug. Smirking to herself, Ravna poured some ale from her pitcher into his now empty cup. With a grin, he knocked his mug against hers and they took large gulps in tandem. Finan looked decidedly put out. Good, she thought, not feeling guilty in the least.
The ale was strong, but she knew it would be. Her father encouraged Ceolmund’s father to brew it the way Danes did, as Saxon ale was often so weak. Ravna’s head was spinning a bit, but she found she did not mind it. She quite liked the feeling, actually. With Osferth’s aid, she drank the entire contents of the pitcher rather quickly. Delighting in the way the whole world around her seemed to tilt as she stood up, Ravna placed her palms on the table to steady herself as she giggled shrilly.
“I… am going to…” She trailed off, losing the thought. “Oh! Yes, I will get more ale.”
Finan grabbed the now empty pitcher and pulled it out of her reach. “Perhaps not, Lady.”
Annoyed but less angry than before— thanks to the ale, in all likelihood— Ravna turned on Finan. Feeling her lips curling into a grin, she snorted and lunged for the pitcher, but he was too quick for her and pulled it further away.
“Finan,” she said shortly, rolling her eyes, “I am grown. I am no child, and you are no nursemaid.”
He reared back as though she had struck him, and it granted her the opportunity to steal back the pitcher. Clutching it to her chest, she swiveled around to go back to the counter, but Ceolmund was already a few paces away.
“Lady Ravna,” he greeted, walking to meet her where she stood. “I’m off now. Would you like me to accompany you on your way?”
Blood rushed to her face, pooling in her cheeks. A bit carelessly, she tossed the pitcher aside and nodded.
“That would do,” she said.
He grinned quite charmingly and offered her his arm.
“Oi!” Finan interrupted. “What’s this about?”
“Ceolmund is accompanying me on my way so I do not need to walk alone in the dark,” Ravna said, cocking her head to the side. “Do you find that unacceptable, Finan?”
Osferth was hiding a grin behind his hands and very pointedly looking away from Finan. Finan, however, seemed downright perplexed and his face was turning a bit red; dark eyes obscured by the scrunch of his eyebrows. When he did not respond, Ravna turned back to Ceolmund, victorious, and took his arm.
“So, will you tell me now what it is that you’re bringing me to?”
“Revelry,” Ceolmund said simply.
And revelry indeed it was. With a large fire going and bodies milling about, Ravna thought back to the many festivities held over the years at Dunholm in honor of the gods. While these were Christians around her, they were not so different.
“We drink mead instead of ale here,” Ceolmund said. “Beatrice makes it with the honey from her father’s bees.”
Ravna nodded, amazed by the sight before her. In her years of living in Coccham, how had she been so vastly unaware of this happening every month? Since she mostly kept to herself, there were a great many people she realized she did not know as unfamiliar faces swam past her. Even Beatrice, who Ceolmund was still talking about, Ravna did not know. She felt bad for it, as clearly everyone knew who she was.
“Lady Ravna!”
Sybil, the blacksmith’s daughter, ran over with a wild grin on her face, a crown of flowers askew on her head. Of the people in the village, Sybil was perhaps one of the only people outside of Ravna’s family that she would consider a friend. Even then, she was unsure.
“Sybil, I’ve said many times, you need not call me Lady,” Ravna said. She glanced at Ceolmund and bowed her head. “Nor do you, friend.”
Sybil reached out and grabbed both of Ravna’s hands. “Well, Ravna, you must come join me for a dance!”
Ravna did not even have the chance to respond before Sybil pulled her away from Ceolmund. Though there was no music, aside from three men who were hardly more than boys drunkenly singing, those who were dancing around the large bonfire seemed to have a tune in their minds. Giggling, Ravna twirled around Sybil as the two of them created their own tune.
“I’m quite pleased you’re here!” Sybil said, swiping a mug from a young man’s hand and taking a deep sip. “You must join us more often.”
She offered out the mug and Ravna took it. The mead was delightful, far superior to any ale she ever had. It tasted of honey and fruit and spices; it tasted of the gods.
“I would like that,” Ravna said, now used to the buzzing feeling the drink gave her. “It might be hard once my father returns.”
“It is the same for the rest of us,” Sybil said. “Many of our fathers joined yours, and we do this with our freedom!”
Sybil flung her arms out and spun around freely. It amazed Ravna. The looseness, the recklessness, the carelessness. It was all she ever wanted to be. She drank until she was stumbling over her own feet, but Ravna was unsure if she could say she ever had such fun.
Ceolmund found her some time later, just as drunk as she was.
“Lady!” he said, all too loudly. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”
On the very far depths of the horizon, Ravna could see the beginnings of sunrise, lightening the dark sky above.
“Perhaps you could walk me back to town,” she said.
“Of course, Lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ceolmund, please, I wish for you to only call me Ravna.”
They walked hand-in-hand, tripping over one another, their own feet, and tree roots alike. The village center was deserted entirely by the time they finally found their way back. For some reason unknown to her, Ravna was giggling loudly and constantly. Ceolmund did not seem to mind, however, and instead grinned at her with that crooked smile of his. She stopped to stare at him, and perhaps count the freckles on his face. There were a great many, and she was fascinated by them.
“Ravna,” he whispered, “may I kiss you?”
It was perhaps because no one had ever asked her that question before that she did say yes. Ceolmund was not the most experienced or skilled of kissers, but him asking her permission made it the best kiss of her life. She curled a hand around the back of his neck and clutched him close, letting her bodily knowledge take over.
They stumbled back against a tree, his hands roaming all over her body and lips trailing down her neck. This, she thought, was what being young was for. She clutched his curls in hand while his fingers fumbled for the strings on her breeches. She giggled some more, but this time it came out as half a moan.
“Ceolmund,” she whispered, tugging at the root of his hair. “We’re too exposed.”
The mere fact that he paused and pulled away from her to look around almost made her want to drop to her knees and push all fears of being caught aside. But to do so, would be to act like a child. She wanted to be treated like the woman she was, so even in her drunken haze she knew she could not. Not right now, at least.
“Yes.” He sighed, chest heaving. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Anyone could stumble upon us,” she reasoned.
But, then, she kissed him again. She kissed him over and over and over again until the sky turned orange with sunrise. Drunkenness abating and replacing itself with a throbbing head, Ravna began to pull her hands from Ceolmund’s hair.
“I should return home,” she mumbled against his lips.
“That would be for the best,” he agreed, still kissing her.
She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip and forced herself away. She did not look back at him as she walked home. If she did, it was likely her self restraint would fall apart, and she really needed to be home before Gisela awoke to tend to Stiorra, who always rose with the sun.
Another week passed, and Ceolmund, who was not so interesting or smart as he seemed that night of the full moon, proved himself to be a kind young man who was undoubtedly fond of her and never tried to touch her more than she liked him to. (It was the kindest a man had ever treated her, so it surely meant something.) Unable to deny the fact that she liked it when he kissed her, even when she was not mind numbingly intoxicated, she found herself sneaking around to press her lips to his at any given opportunity— which naturally led to her pressed up against the back of the alehouse with his hands creeping up underneath her tunic. And that was when and how Finan found them.
“Oi!”
The brogue was undeniable, forcing them to separate at the sound of his voice alone. Lips wet and swollen, Ravna cursed quietly. Ceolmund looked as though he were about to shit his breeches.
“What do ya’ think yer doing?” Finan barked, marching over to them and grabbing Ceolmund by the collar of his tunic.
“Nothing,” Ceolmund said loudly. “We were doing nothing!”
“That’s your lord’s daughter, boy,” Finan said.
“Y-yes, I— I know.”
Ravna groaned. She was well aware of her father’s orders to Finan to keep her safe and make sure she was well, but this was absurd.
“Finan,” she said, wrenching his hand away from Ceolmund, “let him go!”
When his fingers released the fabric, Ceolmund stumbled backwards and then began to run. She rolled her eyes and rounded on Finan.
“What is wrong with you?” she screamed, flinging her hands into the air. “He was doing nothing wrong!”
“Oh, he was doing plenty wrong, lady,” Finan said.
“How is what he was doing any different from what you do to the women in the tavern?”
He stared at her in shock, but she was not finished.
“And how is what I was doing any different from what those women do to you? I am a woman, Finan, not a girl! I know very well what that was. I am not stupid, nor am I the naive child everyone believes me to be!”
Seething, she stomped in the opposite direction Ceolmund ran. She needed to be far away from everyone, Finan especially. How dare he embarrass her like that? Who did he think he was? Her hands shook in her anger, vision blurring at the edges. She was unsure whether she wanted to scream or sob more, so she would go into the woods and do both. She would beat her knuckles bloody on the tree bark if she desired.
Her fury remained. She stood at the riverside, throwing rocks as far as she could to force it to leave her. A twig snapped behind her and then there was the telltale rustle of leaves. She gritted her teeth and let out a groaning shout as she threw another rock. She would not acknowledge him. She refused. He would have to come to her and force himself into her line of sight.
“I apologize, ceann bheag. I should not have grabbed the boy like that.”
How she hated that nickname now. Less than a month ago, she found it sweet. Little one. Now, she knew what it meant. She was a small child, and always would be. Tears of anger and resentment flooded her eyes, stinging in the wind as she tried to hold them back. She sniffed and sat down on the embankment, knees pulled to her chest. She closed her eyes as she heard Finan move closer and sit down beside her.
“You’ve barely spoken to me since your father left, ya’ know,” Finan said.
Ravna pursed her lips.
“And I don’ know why,” he continued. “Seems like ya’ will talk to anyone an’ everyone but me.”
Anger getting the best of her, she snapped, “I heard you, you idiot!”
Her cheeks were wet, the tears finally having spilled out. A deep crease appeared between Finan’s eyebrows.
“The day before my father left, I heard what you said to him,” Ravna elaborated. “And you were right, Finan. I do not take kindly to it.” She swiped at her face and sniffled loudly. “I do apologize for being such a burden when I was foolish enough to believe we were friends.”
He swore in a low voice, more a grumble than words, and ran a hand over his beard. She watched him from the corner of her eye, wanting to turn to him but wanting to be steadfast more.
“Ravna,” he said quietly, softly. “Ya’ never should’ve heard that.”
“And yet,” she muttered, a bitter and sour taste in her mouth.
“I do not think ya’ to be a burden.” His voice was gentle and slow, as though he were trying to find his footing.
“What do you think of me, then?” she asked, finally turning to look at him fully with blazing eyes. “Because I do not think you see a woman.”
“Well, I don’ see a man!”
She rolled her eyes, curbing the urge to kick him.
“You know quite well that is not what I meant!”
She shot up and moved to stomp away, but got up just as fast and grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away. His hand had a tight grip on her, just above the crook of her elbow.
“What ya’ need to understand is, on the ship all your father talked about was his little girl who had been taken from him.”
She was not proud of the manner in which she gasped— both at his touch and the subject of the slave ship being raised. Neither he nor her father ever spoke of their time enslaved, and she could not blame them. How often did she discuss her time at Dunholm, after all?
“And that’s what ya’ were when I met ya’!”
“But I am no longer a child!” she exclaimed.
“No,” he agreed solemnly. “Yer a woman, to be sure, and ya’ have been since the time ya’ stepped foot in Coccham.”
“Then why do you all continue to treat me as one?” She glared up at him, furious. “You likened yourself to a nursemaid and begged my father to change his mind. If you are so unhappy here, I grant you leave to join my father. Go! If you wish it, go, and I will hold no anger in my heart.”
“Lady,” he said, “I would not do that.”
“Why? Because my father asked you to?”
“Because I care about ya’!”
She watched as his eyes crinkled at the corners and his hand not holding her arm lifted, perhaps of its own accord judging by the shock in his eyes, to take hold of her face. The calluses on his palms, made from years of training with swords and pulling oars, were rough against her cheek, but she was too preoccupied by her surprise at the sudden touch to care.
“You’re not just Uhtred’s daughter. You’re far more than that.”
His hand slipped past her cheek to cradle the back of her head, and then he pulled her into a tight hug. Sniffling once more, she tucked her face into his chest and slipped her arms around his torso. After a moment, she pulled her arms away and took a large step backwards with a burning face. She really ought not to have allowed herself to step so close. It was inappropriate.
“I am glad you see me as I am,” she said quietly.
Above their heads, a cloud shifted and sent a bright beam of light directly upon Finan’s head. It illuminated him in a brilliant shade of gold, and she needed to look away from how bright he was, lest she do or say something absurd.
HIYA GORGEOUS!! I absolutely adore all that you write and here I am once again to request something (tbh I’ll always be here to request things 🤭). So I’d like to request…
y/n (aka me) is Elijah's best friend but she's never met Klaus, only heard about him. one day she surprises Eli for his birthday so she walks in the compound, not knowing that Klaus is there too. she and Elijah exchange hellos then talk for a bit and before they can leave (Elijah is subtly trying to rush her out), Klaus hears her voice and comes downstairs. I'll leave the details to you but she and Klaus instantly hit it off so much so that it makes Elijah jealous (he's always had a thing for y/n but never said anything be he's afraid of losing their friendship). again, leaving the details to you. can we make it a 2-parter? 1 is jealousy/angst w/ implied smut between y/n and Klaus & 2 is Elijah confessing to y/n his feelings which lead to their first time sex and possible future relationship.
Sorry love if this is too much, it's okay if you're not up for it though! Thanks for even indulging me! 🤍
THIS SCENE MAKES ME GO FERAL
A drunken hookup with Klaus complicates your friendship with Elijah, leading to an awkward morning after.
♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet Aurora!! This one was a blast to write. But implied smut with Klaus??? Nahhh. No half-measures here. This is for all my Klaus girlies. You can't fix him, but you sure can fuck him. ♡♡
5k words - Warnings: smutttt {with Klaus}, rough sex, mild choking, Klaus being the drama, Elijah hiding his feelings & Rebekah judging you.
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Marcel Gerard x mostly platonic!reader Summary: Trying to figure out a way to get Klaus to trust you, you reminisce over the past and how trust was earned in a similar situation. Warnings: none Words: 3.7K
Masterlist
a/n: does anyone know how i can fix the gifs from like not centring? it looks fine on my laptop but horrible on mobile😭
NEW ORLEANS, 1970
Strobe lights went all across the room, music blaring, but I could barely tell what song was playing, too distracted by what I was doing—or, rather, who I was about to do. I ran my fingers through his hair while his hand crept up my skirt, our kiss getting more passionate by the second.
His name didn't matter. All I cared about was the fun we were about to have.
"Why don't we take this somewhere more private," he mumbled in between kisses.
I nodded against him, giving him one last kiss before whispering in his ear. "Back alley." The fact that I was drunk didn't stop me from leading us across the dance floor to the back where I'd been many times before. I knew the owner—who was also a really good kisser—and so I knew where to go.
I felt the cold air hit us as soon as we got outside, despite feeling so hot. As soon as the door closed, I turned around, intending on pulling him back in for a kiss, but I almost staggered back when I saw the same man I was kissing just moments ago with veins crawling underneath his eyes, fangs protruding in his mouth.
What the fuck?
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: While you busy yourself with making sure the deal with the witches runs smoothly, Klaus occupies himself by trying to figure you out. Warnings: none Words: 4.4K
Masterlist
I walked into my house, throwing my keys on the side-table next to the door and shrugging off my jacket. I checked my watch: 2:01 PM, so Davina was still at school and wouldn't be back 'til she was done practicing with the witches.
I just got back from lunch with Elijah where we went over the Mikaelson's terms in more detail. Genevieve had sent a witch to the Abattoir earlier like a carrier pigeon with an outline of their requests.
Pretty dramatic, if you ask me, but she was like just resurrected. She probably doesn't know how to text yet, so whatever.
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: As you settle back into the Quarter, you juggle your personal and new professional life—but with the Mikaelsons, it was almost as if there was no difference between the two. Warnings: none Words: 5.6K
Masterlist
a/n: i see this series getting long, guys; just letting you know. btw, i'm pretty much unoccupied, so u can expect new posts for this series and possibly other imagines like every 2-3 days. and tysm for all the support! anyway, i'll let you get to reading now.
I walked into the Abattoir with a façade of confidence. I was now completely sober, facing the repercussions of my drunken actions. It'd been about a week since my agreement with Elijah and he'd only just called me in to speak with him yesterday.
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Elijah Mikaelson x niece!reader Summary: A while after the party, you're approached by Elijah at Rousseau's who has a request that you would've never expected. Warnings: none Words: 3.1K
Masterlist
I shook a cocktail shaker vigorously before pouring whatever pink liquid it was into a glass and sliding it over to the customer on the other side of the counter, running a hand through my hair right afterward as I glanced around at the full bar.
Full fucking bar and I'm the only person here.
Camille had a date with Marcel tonight, but there was no one else who could possibly take her shift tonight because there was no one else working tonight. I told her I could cover for her because I had experience bartending in the eighties, but I didn't know it was gonna be like this.
I guess there was some sort of festival going on tonight, but in New Orleans, when isn't there?
It's been a week since the Mikaelsons through their party, a week since I had my 'family reunion', and I haven't seen any of them since. Don't know if I'm happy about that or not.
I sighed, tossing back a shot of my own before moving onto the next customer. I'll overthink later.
"Drinking on the job?" Or not.
Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader
Summary: After the battle of Tettenhall y/n is taken back to Aeglesburgh against her will. Finan and y/n have to decide if asking for permission really is the best choice they have.
Warnings: SLOWBURN. Mentions of Battle. No others that I can think of, if I have missed anything please let me know!
Wordcount:3.7k
Part 1 | Part 10 - Yes, part 10 is happening, they deserve it. | Other Works
Authors Notes: I'm sorry I'm an unreliable narrator in my own life so had no idea if this would end with 9 or 10 parts but apparently I DO have another 7/8k left in me. IT WILL BE 10 PARTS.
The early morning was overcast with undistinguishable clouds rolling over and into one another refusing to allow the blue beneath to break through covering the land with a pale grey tint, the air was silent with the usual bird calls absent as you readied your horse by the stairs of the palace in Aeglesburgh, it’s doors cracked and splintered from the surprise attack of danes looking for Aethelflaed. You were to ride to Saltwic and watch over Aelfwyn and Aethelstan with Stiorra while the battle took place at Tettenhall and you didn’t argue this decision, you were no fighter and the children could do with an adult around in times like this.
Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader
Summary: Finan returns from the north with news of Bebbanburg, news that worries y/n. The pair reunite in Aeglesburgh as preparations for battle at Tettenhall take place.
Warnings: SLOWBURN. MDNI18+ NSFW content below the cut. Unprotected PinV (I will not write about medieval contraception). Mentions of violence and death. If i've missed anything please let me know!
Wordcount:3.7k (i never intend for the parts to be so lengthy but a lot is going on.)
Part 1 | Part 9 | Other Works
Authors Notes: If something below the cut seems oddly fast just - there's a few time jumps and shit happens alright, man can't last for hours when it's been months without a single touch.
The soft light of morning sun streaming through budding trees cast golden streaks across your skin as you closed your eyes, face tilting upwards into the sky allowing the natural warmth to wash over you, taking a deep breath filling your lungs with the fresh crisp air hugging a shawl around your shoulders welcoming the spring. The laughter of Aelfwyn chasing a grumbling Stiorra through the dewy grasses littered with freshly bloomed tulips pulled you from the small moment of meditation and the crunch of wood chip alerted you to Lady Aethelflaed approaching.
Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader
Summary: Early summer has transitioned into winter, y/n is reunited with Finan after many months apart.
Warnings: SLOWBURN. MDNI18+ NSFW Content below the cut. Mutual Masturbation. If I've missed anything pls let me know!
Wordcount: 3.6k (oops.)
Part 1 | Part 8 | Other Works
Authors Notes: This isn't just a filler/self indulgent chapter as i originally thought, it does help with the next few parts of their journey. And this is mostly y/n and Finan story building, minimal mention/interaction from other characters.
You walked through the rows of tall malus sylvestris that surrounded the grounds at Saltwic taking shade from the last days of the summer sun twisting the ring that belongs to Finan now decorating your index finger, watching the small crab apple’s grow larger and more ripe for picking with every day that passes listening to birds above in the sky spotting the odd murmuration of starlings dancing in the different hues of oranges and pinks of a sunset, occasionally you would step out of your shoes to feel the heated earth beneath your feet for a moment of grounding to quieten your mind.
Chapter 5
Next chapter ->
Series Masterlist -> Here
Type: Series
Summary: Your journey leads you to a town, where you plan to meet Astrid.
Warnings: 18 +, mature themes, abuse, injury, underwear shopping.
Pairing: Finan x Ealdorman's Daughter!Reader
Summary: During the aftermath of Eadred's death implications are made, Uhtred orders his group to return to Coccham but y/n doesn't want Finan to go.
Warnings: SLOWBURN. Mentions of blood and violence. References to a dead body, the term brutalised is used. Please let me know if i've missed anything!
Wordcount:3.3k
Part 1 | Part 7 | Other Works
Authors Notes: pfft I don't have anything to say. Other than I may have squealed when writing one part.
Stepping up onto a lip of the lean-to under the cover of darkness Finan silently pulled himself up onto its roof, keeping low he ushered you and Osferth closer. On instinct Osferth dropped to a knee and locked his fingers offering you a boost, you placed a foot into his hands and held your own up to Finan as Osferth stood lifting you into the irishman’s grasp.
Sihtric had been living with you for a few weeks now, and he had accepted that going back home was not that easy and would take time, if you'd ever even find a way. Slowly but surely you adjusted to each other. You shared the bed every night, but kept a comfortable distance, except you'd wake up in his arms every morning without knowing how or why. You weren't sure if he was aware of it, but you never brought it up and neither did he.
You started to trust him more and gave him a little more freedom, until you came home one day and found him as he was about to light a fire in your living room. He said he was cold, so he had hoarded all kinds of paper, and even some of your plants, which he had found in your apartment. He had it all piled up on the floor and you caught him as he opened a box of matches. At least he had opened the window, so he had given it some thought after all, but you kept a close eye on him again ever since.
He knew about the magic that you called matchsticks. You had shown him a few days before the almost catastrophic moment. He was completely blown away by the fire you made with that little stick. He had clutched his necklace, and it took him an hour to believe that it wasn't witchcraft.
And the next couple of days you had to buy new boxes every day. You'd watch him strike the matches and he'd watch them burn until it almost burned his fingers. And it never failed to make his eyes grow big when he lit one.
You had gotten very fond of him, and maybe even more. But you had little time to think about that. Today was Beltane, and you had to prepare yourself for the celebration. You wanted to take Sihtric with you, but you told him that your friends could not know the truth about him, which he understood and agreed to. As he was a pagan, he understood the celebration even if he didn't really celebrate this particular sabbat, but he was eager to join you.
Early in the evening you made your way through the forest, to a big open field which was crowded with people. Your coven was part of an open Beltane celebration. There was music, food, drinks and all kinds of rituals to participate in. You were happy to be there with Sihtric by your side, until a few of your fellow witches came up to you and asked who he was. You never made up a backstory for him, and they knew you never just showed up with a random guy. You gave him a panicked look, which he picked up on.
'My name is Sihtric,' he said, 'we met recently. She has been helping me out with… things.' 'Helping you out?' one friend asked. 'With things, huh?' another chuckled. 'Shut up!' you hissed to them. 'Are you the one that called her like 40 times in an hour?' 'I do not know what you speak of,' Sihtric answered.
Your friends gave you sneaky winks and cheeky smiles before you all made your way into the crowd, towards the big bonfire. Sihtric managed to steal a drink from a table without your knowledge, and he sipped from the bottle.
'This is not ale,' he said puzzled, and he offered you a sip. 'Ale?' you said, 'wait, where did you get that? How did you pay for that?' 'What?' he nearly shouted.
Sihtric couldn't hear you. The music and the people around you were too loud, and without thinking he leaned in and pulled you closer. His hand on your waist and your lips next to his ear. You felt a little dizzy and figured it must have been that sip of cider.
'It's cider,' you giggled, 'you don't like it?' You pulled away to look at him, but his hand remained on your waist.
'I never said that,' he smiled and winked.
You definitely felt dizzy now, and it wasn't the cider. You were saved by the sound of cheers and managed to take a step back from him. A group of people had started to dance around the maypole, and someone shouted that the celebration had officially begun. You and Sihtric both cheered upon the announcement and he pulled you close again. He was very affectionate this evening, and it made you feel flustered the whole time, and you blamed it on him just feeling the Beltane spirit.
Beltane is the time to celebrate earth's blessings. But also to rejoice in warmth, passion and fertility. It was the perfect time to manifest new beginnings. It's a celebration of life, which can make these celebrations often a little flirty. But you weren't complaining. You liked this Sihtric. It looked like he was comfortable and enjoying himself. And enjoying you.
Soon your small coven gathered around you and you knew it was time for the little ritual you had prepared with them. You explained to Sihtric that you were going to burn bay leaves that have blessings, wishes and gratitude messages written onto them. He sat back as you formed a circle, and he curiously watched the ritual.
Not much later you joined him again, and now it was really time to celebrate. You all made your way back to the bonfire and it was time to dance, allowing those new and positive energies to enter your life. Sihtric watched you dance as he stayed close, helping himself to a few more bottles of cider. All went well, until one of your friends came up to you and Sihtric, and asked Sihtric where he came from.
'I am from the past!' he cheered with a very slight slur, and you realised he was tipsy.
But how? He didn't have that much to drink and the cider wasn't that strong. Wait. Was it somehow stronger than that ale he was used to?
'The past?' your friend asked and frowned. 'I think Sihtric had too much to drink!' you shouted over the noise and chuckled, 'if you will excuse us,' you said and you pulled Sihtric away from your friend.
'Sihtric! What are you doing?' you asked, a little annoyed. 'What?' he asked with a sweet smile. 'You need to stop talking, you can't tell people that you're from the past!' 'As if they would believe me,' he scoffed, and took another sip. 'But what if they do? What am I going to do then?' 'I don't know, what will you do?' he chuckled and gave you a flirty look as he bit his lip. 'Hm?' he hummed, 'what will you do then?' His hands found your waist again and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it inside your head, over the sounds of the celebration.
'Sihtric,' you smiled and shook your head as you made a poor attempt to pull away from him. 'So what will you do? Make me shut up?' he teased and he pulled you closer again. 'Sihtric, you really need to stop talking.' 'Or what?'
Your lips were inches away from each other when suddenly some drunk man bumped into your shoulder and spilt his drink over your shoes. The man seemed unbothered and stumbled further.
'Yeah, excuse you!' you yelled, and the drunk turned around. 'Shut the fuck up,' the drunk slurred. 'I'm sorry?' you said, irritated. 'I said, shut the fuck up,' the drunk burped, 'whore.'
Sihtric quickly pulled you back to him as you were about to storm towards the drunk, who made his way towards you already, and Sihtric shoved you behind him as the drunk man came closer.
'Apologise.' Sihtric said sternly. 'No,' the drunk laughed. 'Apologise to my lady. Now.'
You watched Sihtric get up in the man's face, and you felt this could go wrong very fast. You quickly stepped towards both men and placed your hand on Sihtric's arm.
'Sihtric, leave it. It doesn't really matter.'
You pulled Sihtric away from the man but his eyes didn't leave the drunk. You took his face in your hands and gently guided his gaze towards you. When Sihtric finally snapped out of his stare, you saw a rage in his eyes unlike any you had ever seen.
'Sihtric?' you said, 'are you okay?' 'I wish to fight him,' he hissed, and he spat on the ground in the direction of the drunk, 'make the square!' 'What? No! Sihtric, leave it, it's not that big of a deal, okay?' 'But he disrespected you,' Sihtric snarled.
Instinctively he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, as he kept eyeing the drunk man who now slowly stumbled away from you.
'Most men are like that here,' you shrugged. 'They shouldn't be.' 'Yeah, well,' you sighed and gave him a weak smile.
He kept you firmly pressed against his chest, and he kept his jaw clenched. You couldn't help but lightly stroke his back with your fingertips now, and after a moment you saw the tenseness leave his body slowly. Then Sihtric looked down at you.
'Are you okay?' 'I'm fine, Sihtric, really,' you smiled.
And you saw his lips hesitantly curl into a smile.
'Is that how you deal with people back home? Just fight anyone who displeases you?' 'We make the square.' 'The what?'
Sihtric couldn't help but chuckle at your confusion and shook his head.
'It doesn't matter. I'm here now, and you are okay, right?' 'Yes, lord,' you teasingly slapped his arm, 'I am okay. But you have something to explain.' 'Do I?' 'Yes.' 'What?' 'Why did you call me your lady?' Sihtric shrugged with a smile. 'Aren't you, kind of?' 'Well,' you stammered, 'I, uh, no, but…' 'But?'
You sighed and gave up. You had no argument. You liked that he had called you his lady, and maybe he was right.
'Nevermind,' you rolled your eyes. 'Thought so,' Sihtric smirked. 'Excuse me?' 'Oh, don't pretend like you don't sleep in my arms every night.' 'Wait,' you said, 'you know about that?' Sihtric laughed. 'How could I not know? I pull you close every night.' 'You were always aware of it?' 'Yes, lady.' 'But you never mentioned it.' 'And neither did you.'
You had no comeback to that. It was true, you had never mentioned it. Because you didn't mind it.
'But if you don't want it, no offence taken, I won't do it again,' Sihtric said and he let go of you. 'I never said that,' you scoffed.
Sihtric smiled and stepped back closer to you. He slowly moved his hand up to your neck, and you felt a heat rise in your body when you felt his other hand on your lower back. He leaned in and gently pulled you against him until his lips met yours.
His lips were soft, yet his kiss was firm, and you felt the scars on his skin as your hands found their way up his exposed arms. You felt his strong embrace and tasted the cider on his lips, and you suddenly didn't care about anything anymore. The noise around you seemed to fade away and it felt as if it was only you and Sihtric now.
The universe had gifted you Sihtric. You had found him, or he had found you, it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that he kissed you with a passion you had never felt before, and you desperately wanted this to last. For the first time in years you finally felt care free. As if everything had led up to this moment.
The moment you felt that everything would be okay, that everything would work out just fine. And you knew you had to enjoy this moment. This was a sign from the universe and from your spirit guides.
It was Beltane. The celebration of new beginnings, new hope, new light, new chances and new love.
And you took Sihtric back home with you before midnight, long before the celebration would end, but you had your own plans now.
You and Sihtric stumbled up the stairs of your apartment building. You felt his hands everywhere, pulling and pushing you. And his lips never left your skin, kissing, biting and sucking you. You couldn't reach your front door fast enough and you dragged him inside your apartment, where Sihtric picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. He quickly found your bed in the dark and threw you on it, he switched on your nightlight and then he lowered his body down onto yours.
'Lights on?' you chuckled. 'I want to see you,' Sihtric smirked, and he gave you a teasing lick over your lips.
This man was a gift to you and you were dying to unwrap him.
You made out for a while until you both couldn't resist each other anymore, and you told him to hold on a moment as you hopped to the bathroom. Better safe than sorry. He was a medieval man after all, you chuckled to yourself, god knows where he had been before you.
'Lady, you better get back in here now,' you heard Sihtric tease through the door. You laughed. 'Someone's a little demanding, huh?' you teased back as you took a quick look in your bathroom mirror, fixing your messy hair the best as you could. 'You have no idea, princess,' Sihtric laughed, and the mischief in his voice had simply set you on fire.
You smiled and blushed at his words as you took a quick glance at the time. It was exactly midnight, to which you bit your lip in excitement, knowing you were going to spend the rest of the night with Sihtric. In your bed. And if he would call you princess again, you knew you'd be on your knees for him in no time.
You closed the door behind you and turned to your bed, ready to rip Sihtric's clothes off.
But then your smile faded, the air left your lungs and your heart seemed to stop.
Your bed was messy but empty and your apartment was deafeningly quiet.
He was… he was just gone.
It was midnight, and Sihtric was gone.
'Sihtric, please, can you just…. stop that and sit down?' Sihtric looked up from the lightswitch and turned to you. You had watched him play with the lights for nearly 10 minutes now. To be honest; it was adorable, but you started to get a headache from the constant flickering. He nodded with a shy smile and walked over to you. He sat down on the couch and you could tell he wanted to say something. You watched him as he tried to find the right words, admiring his beauty for a moment until he spoke.
'Thank you for giving me shelter, my lady,' he said softly. 'You are welcome, but stop calling me lady,' you smiled. 'I'll try,' he said with a shy smile, 'and thank you for allowing me to bathe.'
You had shown him how the shower worked earlier. He was amazed by the clean and warm water, causing you to worry about your next water bill by the time he finally got out of the shower. He entered the living room just as you switched on the lights, thus having to explain what you did. He was almost afraid to touch the switch and he flinched when he switched the lights on himself for the first time. Then he smiled and eventually started to laugh after a few times of switching it off and on again. His sincere smile and laugh stole your heart, to which you felt a knot in your stomach, knowing you'd have to find a way to send him back home.
'Tomorrow I will take you to the library, and we will do research on how to bring you back home,' you said softly. 'Do you think you can bring me back?' 'I can't promise you that, Sihtric. But I promise I will try.'
You tried to not let your sudden sadness slip into your words. You didn't want him to think you were trying to prevent him from going home.
'But what if I can't bring you back?' you asked after a moment.
Sihtric was quiet and he shrugged lightly.
'Are you scared? Or homesick?' 'No,' Sihtric said and he reached for his necklace, clutching it in his fist, 'I worry about my friends more than I worry about myself,' he paused and looked around your apartment, 'I have so much to see and learn, it almost makes me forget about my home. And I will not lie, these clothes feel nicer than my own,' he smiled and you laughed. 'I am happy to hear that,' you smiled. 'And,' Sihtric said, but then closed his mouth again and looked shyly at his feet. 'And what?' 'I like your presence, my lady.'
Now you both blushed and felt lost for words. Eventually you asked him to tell you about his friends. Which he did. And he told you the most amazing stories. How they'd fight in shield walls, how Uhtred had accepted his sword and oath, how he had spied at the Danes and how this one time he saw a man rise up from his grave, only to find out out it was a scam. You could listen to him for hours and you couldn't take your eyes off him, but it was getting late.
'We should go to sleep soon, it's getting late,' you said eventually. 'Where will I sleep?'
Crap. You hadn't thought about that yet. He could sleep on the couch, but he was rather tall and it would not be comfortable for him. The only other option was your bed, which could easily fit two people. You felt your cheeks turn red at the thought of sharing a bed with him. You considered him to take the bed and you the couch. But you were afraid to let him out of your sight, so that was not an option either.
'I only have one bed,' you eventually said. 'I can sleep on the floor.' 'What? No. I mean, are you sure?' 'Yes, my lady.'
Hesitantly you accepted his offer, knowing this was a way to keep an eye on him and still sleep seperate, and so you went to your bedroom. You gathered all the blankets and pillows you could find and gave them to him. You went to the bathroom and changed into a crop top and comfy hotpants, the way you always slept. When you came back into the bedroom you found Sihtric on the floor, sitting on a bundle of blankets and pillows as he took off his shirt.
You gasped softly at the sight and rushed towards your bed, pretending you didn't see him. Before you could get in bed you saw his eyes were locked on you, and you froze. His big eyes stared at you and his mouth was slightly open.
'What is wrong?' you asked, concerned. 'Nothing,' he mumbled, not being able to keep his eyes off you, 'you just… forgive me, my lady, but the whores back home do not show as much skin as you do now.'
Your eyes grew wide.
'Oh,' you whispered. You wanted to feel offended, but you couldn't. He was obviously not used to this type of clothing. 'I will change into something else. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.' 'No,' Sihtric said and quickly jumped up, preventing you from leaving the bedroom, 'I didn't mean it like that. I… it,' he stammered and he blushed.
You equally blushed upon the sight of his bare chest in front of you.
'I think… you look very beautiful,' he eventually said, and he brought his eyes down to the floor. 'Thank you,' you managed to say before you quickly hopped in bed with a red face, and without a word you switched off the lights and you tried to fall asleep. But you kept turning in your bed.
'Sihtric?' you whispered after nearly half an hour of tossing and turning. 'Hm?' He sounded sleepy. 'Were you sleeping already?' you continued to whisper. 'Almost.' 'Oh.' 'Why, lady?' 'Stop calling me lady,' you hissed softly, 'but this doesn't feel right. I can't let you sleep on the floor like a peasant.' 'Lady,' Sihtric said out loud now, and you heard he had sat up, 'I am not a peasant.' 'No, no. I don't mean it like that!' you hissed, still quietly, 'just…,' you sighed, 'just get in bed.'
You moved over to the other, cold side of your bed and waited with your heart in your throat. After nearly a minute you finally felt the bed dip beside you and you couldn't breathe anymore when you felt the warmth of his body next to you.
You laid on your back, eyes wide staring at the dark ceiling as you felt Sihtric move around next to you for minutes and you listened to his murmuring.
'Hm. Thank you, lady, this feels very comfortable,' he said when he finally settled down.
You let out a nervous laugh and quickly brought your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from more nervous giggles.
You barely slept that night, but somewhere early in the morning you dozed off and when you woke up, you were in Sihtric's arms. You quickly sat up, breaking his embrace and you jumped out of bed.
Why were you in his arms? How did you end up in his arms? And when exactly did it even happen? You had so many questions.
You shook your head, put on your robe and shuffled to the kitching to make breakfast, and it wasn't much later when Sihtric found you. The sight of his messy hair and shirtless body in the morning was something you could definitely get used to. You asked how he slept and he said he had never felt more rested. Except maybe that one time he fell asleep when he had to stand guard, to which you both chuckled.
After breakfast he asked you to braid his hair. You agreed to do so, even though you hardly knew how to braid. You went to the bedroom and moved the mirror in front of the bed. You sat on the edge of the bed and told Sihtric to sit down in front of you. You sat with your legs onto the bed as you brushed his wavy hair, but soon your knees started to hurt as the position was awkward and uncomfortable. Sihtric noticed a glimpse of your discomfort when he looked at you in the mirror.
'Am I making you uncomfortable?' 'No, it's just… I am not sitting comfortably.' 'Oh,' he said and looked in deep thought for a moment.
He moved his back away from the bed and you hesitantly lowered your legs. The relief was pleasant. Sihtric sat back as he cautiously positioned his back between your legs.
Then you finally made an attempt to braid his hair, but you couldn't hide the fact that you had no idea what you were doing. You blushed and asked him what to do, which he clearly didn't mind and helped you out with a smile. You felt yourself enjoying the softness of his hair and you liked how he had pushed his shoulders under your knees, allowing your legs to rest onto his chest. After a short while you were done and asked if it looked okay. Sihtric smiled and said it was good.
'So... who braided your hair back home?' 'I always did it myself,' he said with a smirk.
And you saw a certain playfulness in his eyes as he looked up at you. As if he was proud that he got you to braid his hair, when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. You gave him a mean look to which he laughed, and you couldn't help but smile too. Was this his way of flirting with you, or was he just kind of an asshole and made use of you? You weren't sure yet.
Later that day, at the library, you found out Sihtric couldn't read. Or write. Which was something you never considered and it made your research not easy. You had to read several pages of books to him, which you felt he enjoyed, as he would look at you with big and almost loving eyes.
The downside was that at the end of the day, you weren't really any wiser about how he could've gotten here and how he could return. But for some reason he didn't seem that bothered as you expected him to be when you told him.
But there had to be a way. You both knew it.
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
Series Masterlist -> Here
Type: Series
Summary: Uhtred decides what to do with you, while you remain bound at his camp. Meanwhile you have your first vision in the company of your master.
Warnings: 18+ mentions of Animal violence, violent imagery, past abuse, etc
