#hild tlk

the nun pursed her lips, but eventually closed her eyes and softly sighed.

“then you must tell him.”

“tell him?”

your eyes were wide at the thought of telling uhtred of bebbanburg that you loved him. how could you?

he had lost so much, because of love and because of the whims of the soul—would the dane even give you a second glance? would he even show a sliver of interest in your saxon heart?

no, he wouldn’t.

you clenched your jaw. anything was possible. uhtred and his warriors had proven that on more than one occasion. but would it be the same with you? could anything happen to you? would he truly believe that you loved him?

most importantly, would he love you back?

hild leaned against the table, reaching out to take ahold of your hand.

“you must. life is too short. the good lord has shown us time and time again. tell him before it is too late for either of you,” she said, a soft smile adorning her features. "our hearts are made for love. we are not made to live life alone. i chose to give my love to god. but you... you should give your love to uhtred. i know you love him dearly. i've seen it for so long."

she was right. you knew it. but a part of you didn’t want to admit it.

life was short. you had lost so many people—neighbors, friends, almost every member in your own family. and you knew that it was the same for uhtred. if anything, he would understand that life was short. he saw warriors die more often than not. warriors that fought alongside him for so long only to die at the hand of a dane, or a saxon, or deadly flu. no one knew their end—no one knew when the love of their life would never wake up, staying asleep in perpetual darkness for the rest of eternity.

“what if he doesn’t feel the same?” you asked, pulling your hand away from the woman as anxiety pitted itself in your stomach.

you often had a problem with overthinking. today was no different for you.

“i think you’d be in for a surprise if you were to just speak to him,” she said. “if anything, it would do you some good to talk to him, even if you didn’t confess. you could find where your heart truly is and see if your head could follow it.”

“i know where my heart is… but… uhtred. he…” you trailed off, not watching as hild’s eyes grew wide. you would have continued, burying your face in your hands with a groan.

“uhtred what?”

that oh-so-familiar voice spoke right beside your ear. you flinched, head shooting in his direction, hands nearly slamming on the table underneath them.

the very man of your conversation stood there with that cheeky grin he always had.

“you’ve been talking about me?” he teased, sitting down beside of you and grabbing your cup of ale. “do tell. i’d love to hear it.”

hild silently excused herself, squeezing your shoulder as she passed by.

“i.. we were just… we were just discussing how you will be leaving again soon,” you said, looking up at him. you could feel your cheeks burn from embarrassment, although you didn’t know what you were truly embarrassed about. he didn’t know what you had really been talking about.

he grinned. “i think you’re lying.”

there’s no way he heard, right?

he downed the rest of your ale before he slammed the cup down on the table, his grin unwavering.

“i think it’s time the two of us talked,” he said. “if that’s what you’d like.”

"what would we even talk about?" you blurted. "there is nothing i need to tell you. is there something you've been needing to tell me?"

he raised an eyebrow, hands raised in mock defense.

"y/n, i am not here to interrogate you. i can tell when you're nervous. do i need to rough someone up?"

"what? do i need—no, i don't need you to rough anyone up," you replied, dejected as he continued to not confess his own feelings. if he confessed that he loved you, that would make everything much easier, right? he just needed to say it. then, you could say, i love you, too. uhtred was a psychic—he could read your mind. surely, he could. that would be so simple.

but when had your life ever been that simple?

it was as if the universe decided to throw you into the mud as soon as you were born. they were not about to let up, either.

you stared down at the table, silence floating thickly between the two of you.

uhtred let out a soft sigh. "i heard you," he said.

you paused for a moment.

you misheard him. yes, that was it.

"what?"

"i heard you," he repeated, this time his voice much softer. he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head to face him. "i heard what you said to hild."

your eyes began to burn as tears of embarrassment formed. you pursed your lips, eyes trained on his.

"and you did not think to lead with that?" you said, trying to keep your tears at bay. he did not need to see you cry. he already heard your most vulnerable confession. that was enough for one day.

you pulled away from his grasp, standing up in the process.

"y/n—"

"—i understand, my lord. you do not feel the same. you do not need to humor me."

"y/n."

"i will take my leave. we have a journey, and i need to prepare—"

"—y/n."

he stood up with you, hands cupping your cheeks to keep you from talking any more.

"please allow me just a moment to confess, as well," he said, frustration evident on his features.

you swallowed thickly, eyes not meeting his.

"like you said, life is short. the gods do not allow us any warning. they take. they take, and they never give..." he trailed off, his eyes trailing down to your lips. "but at times, they allow us to find the people we need. the people we love."

you paused, eyes darting up to his.

"uhtred?"

"i love you, too. i had planned on telling you in a more... appropriate manner, but as you can see, i needed to tell you before you believed the opposite."

your eyes widened. you did not mishear, this time. you heard him loud and clear.

he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips, restraining himself. he let go of you, giving you a faint smile.

"well, off you go. you do have to prepare for the morning, do you not?"

you froze in your spot, staring up at him in disbelief. without wasting another second, you leaned forward, a hand on the back of his neck. decency be damned—you pressed your lips to his, your lips molding perfectly together as he wrapped an arm around your torso.

your saxon heart had long been taken over by the dane, and you'd never trade it for anything... despite how unsure you were at the beginning of the night. you would have to say something about him eavesdropping, later. but for now, all you could think of was the fact that he was actually kissing you—and it wasn't in your daydreams.

Perhaps it was a repairman? Unlikely, but she wasn't expecting anyone else.

She shuffled to the door and opened it to find Iseult, her downstairs neighbor. The neighbor she’d wanted to speak to a dozen times or more, but had not yet got up the courage. The neighbor she’d found herself wondering about on a lonely night more often than she cared to admit.

“I thought I’d find you home,” Iseult said. Fortunately, she did not appear to be clairvoyant.

Hild’s face must have registered some surprise because Iseult smiled slightly as she added, “I may have heard you kick the radiator.”

“Oh—sorry if I disturbed you,” Hild said, flushing a bit at how she’d let her temper get the better of her. Noting that her neighbor was also wrapped in several layers of knitwear she added, “I take it your heat is out as well.”

“It’s the whole building, I think.” Iseult’s voice sounded as irritated as Hild felt.

“Would you like to come in?” Hild offered, and then immediately wondered if that was a stupid question. She had nothing much to offer, particularly without working radiators.

Iseult smiled again, a bit softer this time, but her eyes brightened. “Thank you.”

“We may as well stick it out together, I suppose,” Hild said, knowing that she would not have the evening she had planned no matter what.

She led the way into the kitchen and gestured to the electric kettle on her countertop. “Cocoa? At least we don’t have to rely on the gas for that.”

“Sounds lovely.” Iseult took a seat at the kitchen table, chafing her upper arms for warmth.

“You haven’t lived in this building long, have you?” Hild asked as she set two mugs on the counter and turned the kettle on.

“Only a few months. The start of your school year, I think.”

Hild glanced toward her guest, her mouth twitching into a smile despite her best efforts. She was surprised but pleased to find that she was apparently a person of interest. “Well, clearly you know I’m a teacher. What about yourself?”

“I’m a jewelry maker.” Iseult gestured to the earrings and necklace she was wearing. “I also do tarot readings out of my flat.”

“Ah.” Hild dropped her eyes to her hands and bit her lower lip.

“You do not approve, I know,” Iseult said in a carefree, almost musical tone.

Hild turned back, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Iseult huffed a gentle laugh. “It’s not an insult, Hild. I know that you are religious.”

Hild was about to ask how when her gaze fell on the wooden cross hanging above the sink. She turned back to see Iseult’s eyes alight with laughter.

“You’re at church every Sunday, too. I hear you get up earlier that day, and sometimes I see you return in your formal clothing.”

Hild would not have characterized a mid-length wool skirt and a pair of oxfords as formal, but looking at Iseult in her worn, wide-legged corduroy pants and scuffed clogs perhaps they had different standards of formal wear.

“So you’ve been spying on me,” she said, attempting to lighten her tone as she tore the cocoa packets.

Iseult chuckled and pulled her sleeves down around her palms.

“There is only so much to do during the day between appointments. I like to read by the window, so I happen to see everyone coming and going.”

Hild added hot water to the mugs, stirred, and added a bit more. The spoon clinking against the ceramic was the only noise in the room for a moment.

“Thank you.” Iseult’s fingers brushed against hers as she accepted the mug of cocoa. Hild nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest, and took a seat across from her.

“The heat’s not likely to be fixed today,” Hild informed her in a somewhat apologetic tone, as if it was her fault. “Last winter the same thing happened, and it took an entire weekend to resolve.”

Iseult’s eyes widened and she shivered reflexively. “Goodness, what did you do?” Hild remembered how Uhtred, who had been staying with Sihtric at the time, had come over and not left for…about seventy-two hours, by her calculations. That solution would not do this time around, and it wasn't just because he had a girlfriend.

She cleared her throat. “Just…coped.”

“Well, do you have any tips for coping?” Iseult asked innocently.

Hild took a sip of cocoa, hiding behind her mug temporarily. “Lots of blankets, I suppose.”

“I have a hot water bottle, but I imagine you might have one too.”

Hild shrugged. “Yes. It helps, but…”

“Well, we may as well camp out together, in the meantime. That is…if I’m not overstepping.”

Hild gazed across the table into Iseult’s warm brown eyes and wondered if there was any world in which she would deny her.

“You’re not over stepping at all. But I confess, I may not be very good company tonight. I’m feeling rather crabby, to be perfectly honest.”

Iseult’s smile wrinkled her nose. “Crabby is fine by me.”

Hild’s smile in return felt a bit too broad, but she couldn’t help it. Iseult was charming in every sense of the word. She regretted it had taken her this long, and a minor catastrophe, to spend any time with her.

“It’s warmer in the next room,” Hild offered, rising to her feet. “Better windows in there.”

They made their way to the couch, and Hild gathered every blanket she could find. She even brought her down comforter from the bedroom and offered half to Iseult, who graciously accepted. They were bundled up nicely now, though Hild found herself quite irritated when yet again their landlord ignored her call. Her irritation was tempered by her enjoyment of Iseult’s companionship and the low current of accompanying nervousness.

She flicked on the television, not wanting to leave the burden of conversation entirely on her guest.

Iseult laid her head against the back of the couch, curling slightly on her side so her body faced Hild.

Hild adjusted her posture, and her knee bumped up against Iseult’s leg. She nearly pulled back, but Iseult didn’t move away, so she didn’t either.

Iseult leaned a bit closer after a time, eyes still fixed on the television, but Hild was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the woman beside her.

“Is your school term finished?” Iseult’s eyes opened and closed slowly. She seemed to be trying to keep herself awake.

“Yes, I won’t quite know what to do with myself for the next two weeks,” Hild replied.

“What do you normally do between terms?”

“Well, they always need help at the church this time of year. That, and try to rest if I can.”

Iseult cocked her head slightly. “Rest is good.”

“I’m not very good at it, I'm afraid,” Hild felt compelled to admit.

“Like everything, it requires a commitment to practice,” Iseult said softly.

She was sincere, but there was a kind of levity behind her demeanor. Something that made Hild feel a bit more seen than she typically did. Normally that would make her uncomfortable, but with Iseult, it didn’t. It was as if she was standing behind a sheer curtain, waiting to pull it aside and step forward, but in her own timing.

“How would you advise I commit to practicing?” she asked, staring at the television but not watching.

Iseult chuckled and pulled the comforter up around her neck. “This is a good start, here.”

Hild shivered and instinctively moved a bit closer. “I suppose this is God’s way of telling me to take the night off.”

“Does your god speak to you often through the incompetence of your landlord?” Iseult asked.

“Not exclusively, no.”

Iseult’s nose wrinkled in amusement and she leaned a bit closer still.

When she took Hild’s hand under the coverlet, Hild was certain her heart had stopped beating.

Iseult’s eyes were clear and bright as she asked, “Does your god have rules about this?”

“Some men claim he does,” Hild murmured, “but I’m not in the habit of listening to men.”

Iseult’s smile widened as she leaned forward to brush a kiss to Hild’s lips. Hild’s breath caught. She froze, then cupped Iseult’s face gently as she kissed her back.

It was a good kiss—perhaps a little awkward, somewhat tentative at first, but building in feeling almost immediately. A spark had ignited between them—cold flint and steel striking against each other and creating something beautiful that had not existed there before.

Hild’s face grew warm—she was sure she was blushing quite deeply—and the heat spread throughout her body from her core. Her fingers, twined in Iseult’s, were still cold, but that’s not why they were trembling.

“You don’t need much practice at that,” Iseult said coyly, leaning her forehead against Hild’s.

Hild felt a laugh tumble forth, and clasped Iseult’s hands between her own to warm them.

Iseult laughed too, and tucked into her side. Hild wrapped an arm around her and pulled the coverlet tighter.