#inga writes

It was late, candles flickering as he walked towards you. Each step was filled with purpose, the sure set of his shoulders and the dark look in his eye leaving no room for argument.

‘My lord – ‘

‘Say my name.’

‘Finan…’

‘Good girl. Now tell me what you want.’  You preened at his praise, pulling him closer with demanding hands. He allowed it, the warmth radiating off his body making it hard to breath, but he knew the affect he had on you. He took your chin between his forefinger and thumb, coxing you to look at his rather than let your eyes roam the clothed expanse of his body.

You wanted him. You needed him. Words could never justify that, never express just how badly you wanted to feel him ruin you. Without thinking you leant forward, his lips so close you could feel his breath fanning your face.

As if God himself had decide to punish you, Finans grip on your chin tightened forcing you to halt.

‘You know I like to hear you little one, don’t make me ask a third time. What do you want?’

‘You.’ It was all he needed to hear. His hand came to grip your hair, tugging your lips to his. The burn made you groan, his touch setting you alight. You let your hands trail up his arms, feeling the muscles flex as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand pressing into your lower back. You bit his lip, swiping your tongue to ease the sting as Finan moaned.

Without warning Finan pulled back completely. You whined at the loss and for a moment he took pity on you. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear, nipping at the flesh as he whispered how needy you were for him. His voice, hoarse with want sent shivers down your spine.

‘Get on the floor, on your knees.’

You did so without hesitation, arching your back and presenting your dripping core to him through the thin veil of your night dress. You heard him mutter a curse, then the hasty removal of his armour. With each step he took you felt yourself squirm, the cold air blowing against your cunt only highlighting its emptiness.

You could hear him breathing behind you, no doubt taking in the curve of your body, the tremble of your legs.

‘Look at you, I haven’t even touched you yet.’ You hated the amusement in his voice, hated the way his words make you ache for him even more. You were on the cusp of begging when his open palm met your ass. He kneaded the flesh before repeating the action, only satisfied once you cried out and his handprint had branded itself onto your skin.

He soothed the sting with a kiss, lifting your nightdress until it pooled around your waist. He kissed his way from your arse to the inside of your thighs, his beard scratching your softness as he lost himself in the movement.

‘You look so good my love… I bet you taste even better.’ With a broad stoke of his tongue Finan tasted you, circling your clit before pulling away once more.

‘Finan, please.’ He hummed in response, you turned to look at him over your shoulder. The way he looked at you was sin. Want, lust, desire, call it want you will, you thought, if this man was the devil, then you were ready to renounce.

With a final lick of his lips Finan seemed to decide. He crawled his way up behind your body, caging you with his arms and his cock pressed against your folds. He brought his lips to yours slowly, making sure you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You were almost dizzy when he finally pushed into you, stretching you so perfectly that you had no doubt he was made for you, for this. To fill you up and make you curse.

His breath was hot in your ear, pants and groans falling from his lips as he dragged himself in and out of you.

‘You feel so good. Fuck, so good.’

‘Finan I- ‘Finan knew your body, knew the way you clung to him, the pulsing of your walls and he knew what the breathless whimpers that made his cock throb. He knew what it all meant. And he would never deny himself the pleasure of feeling you cum around him. Balancing himself on the arm you clung to, he used the other to snake his way down your body until he reached you clit. With the rough pads of his fingers, he rubbed it in circles, picking up his pace only slightly until he felt the white hotness of your orgasm crash over you. You came with a call of his name.

‘That’s it, cum for me Y/n… Fuck, fuck…’ He rode you through your high, chasing his own until he coated your walls with his seed.

You kissed the parts of him you could reach, sighing contently as you turned and connected your lips softly. He pulled out with a hiss, and you immediately missed the feeling, rolling onto your back and opening your arms to him.

You had never punched anyone before.

You hadn’t comprehended the feeling of your fist meeting with a cheekbone, nor the sting afterward. You certainly hadn’t expected the flesh of your knuckle to become raw with the force you had used.

Your rage had stopped any immediate tears, still seething as the man twice your size reeled, toppling backwards, spitting profanities at you as he did. You wanted to walk away or kick him, but your feet were glued to the ground. You watched with shaking hands and shallow breath as the man began to rise.

You felt Finan before you heard him, the warmth radiating from his chest to your back.

‘I think it was time you left my friend.’ Finan’s tone left no room for argument, you could already see in your minds eye the hard set of his jaw, the promise of violence in his dark eyes.

The threat of Finan brought you peace. And it was only once the man had scurried out with a final spit of the word bitch, that you let yourself turn to the Irishman.

His face softened immediately, his arms wrapping themselves around your shaking frame. You breathed him in, letting the earthy scent ground you.

‘Come on dove.’ You let yourself be lead through the alehouse, aware of everyone else’s eyes. The heat of your rage slowly turned to embarrassment and that’s when the ache began.

You could feel the bruise already beginning to form, feel the throb as you flexed your fingers.

Finan led you to an empty lodging room, a jug of water sitting on the dresser. With a gentle tug Finan brought you to the bed and motioned for you to sit down. You did as you were told, keeping your eyes on him rather than look at your hand, as if acknowledging it would somehow make it worse.

Finan seemed to know exactly what to do, he checked to see if the water was clean, washed his own hands and then ripped a piece of linen from the bed much to your dismay.

‘Was that necessary?’

Finan dismissed your concern with the wave of a hand before crouching down in front of you. He placed one hand on your knee and the other to the wrist of the injured hand. You hesitated, frowning as he pulled lightly.

‘It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll look after you.’ His eyes were fixed on yours, his smile small and his touch gentle. With a final sigh you stopped resisting.

You followed Finan’s gaze to your hand, it looked about as sore as it felt. The skin was raw, dried blood crusting around the sides.

You hissed as Finan pressed the damp cloth to your wound. Apologizing over and over as he wiped away the grim. He repeated the action once, twice more before he spoke.

‘What happened Y/n?’ You debated keeping your mouth shut, but as you watched how tenderly he held your hand in his and washed it with the other you decided that was no way to repay his kindness.

You had never intended to hit the man, just confront him. The serving girl was barely a woman, too young and too quiet to know how to tell a man no. even when she had summoned the courage to the man still hadn’t listened. The ale house was too full and too loud for anyone else to have heard her whimper, fear and tears pouring out of her when you had walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

He had sneered at you and gripped the girl’s wrist a little tighter. He had licked his lips when he glanced at her, and you had seen red.

As you spoke you watched Finan’s face darken, but when he looked at you his eyes were filled with pride. He brushed a stray hair from your face and cradled your face in his palm.

‘You’re some woman.’

The pain had subsided by the time Finan had finished cleaning. He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but return it, the way his eyes crinkled at the side acted as the perfect distraction. The feel of the dry linen on your skin shocked you, the fibres prickling against the cuts but the pressure as Finan wrapped it around was welcomed.

Once your hand was bandaged as best to Finan’s ability he brought your hand to his lips. The kiss was feather light, but it made your cheeks burn. With a final peck Finan let you go, tossing the bloodied cloth into the bin and motioning to the door.

‘I think it’s high time I bought you a drink, little warrior.’ You wanted to laugh, to go downstairs and embrace the stares and cheers but anxiety gnawed at your insides. As if you had spoken the words aloud Finan came to your side, entwining his hand with your uninjured one.

‘If he comes back, we’ll deal with him together. I told ya, I’ll look after you.’ With a tentative flex of your bandaged hand, you nodded.

Eadith felt weightless.

It was like being submerged in ice cold water; her limbs too stiff to break above the surface.

I’m going to die…

The thought came to her with such clarity she couldn’t quite find it in herself to be scared, only tired. She was so tired. Sleep called to her with the sweetness of a mother’s lullaby, warmth slowly enveloping her as she leaned into the sound.

Eadith, it called, Eadith come back to me.

The voice reminded her of the crackle of a campfire and the gentle lull of summer rain.

She was weightless and something was keeping her warm.

Please Eadith. Please.

Okay, Eadith thought with a little annoyance. She never liked to be rushed. I’ll sleep now.

There were jaws snapping at her in the dark. Teeth so large and sharp that the sight of them made Eadith cower.

She was a child.  Too small and too powerless to stop them as they snapped at her ankles and growled her fears from somewhere just out of sight.

She ran from them, stumbled, and cried. Searching…

Searching for something she couldn’t remember but it knew she had lost.

In the darkness there was nothing. nothing but her and the question of why she was alone. Her own voice called back to her, echoing as mist swirled at her feet, tripping her.

‘Because you chose to be.’

No. no!

Then light, bright as dawn. And that voice again, calling to her.

Eadith… Eadith come back to us… To me…

She wanted to but it hurt when she tried to move, her body demanding stillness until the darkness welcomed her back.

She wasn’t a child when she returned nor was she alone. She felt confused, hadn’t she always been alone?

The figure was tall and broad, with brown eyes that made her see more than what was in front of her.

She was in a room that smelled like lavender, in a bed, white sheets wrapped around her, and the figure was beside her. A book in one hand, the other was holding hers, his thumb rubbing circles on her knuckle. He was reading to her, but she couldn’t hear the words.

She couldn’t see his face but she knew he was smiling at her. She wanted to smile back.

Then there was fur beneath her fingertips.

A wolf.

But its jaws didn’t snap at her. The nose was cold and wet. It nipped at her fingers and whined.

She felt it’s sadness. It sat on her heart with the weight of the ocean.

She could feel herself drowning  in it until she was sure the grief was her own.

She felt weightless again but there was no comfort.

She couldn’t reach the surface.

She couldn’t reach the surface.

She called out.

To the wolf.

To the figure.

To herself.

Eadith.

Eadith, please.

Please.

Eadith jolted awake and pain burned through her body. She winced, reaching to her side but warm hands were immediately pushing her back. Gentle but firm. By touch alone Eadith knew it was Finan.

‘Easy, easy. That’s it Eadith.’ His voice was soft, gentle as summer rain. Eadith regarded him slowly as she sunk back into the white sheets. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes dark and she did not miss the way his shoulders slumped. She reached for his hand as he drew back, somehow she felt warmer when he held her.

‘How did you like your first battle?’

To laugh hurt more than Eadith could have expected ‘I swear it will be my last. From now on, I will be staying in the house.’

Finan chuckled, brushing a stray hair from Eadiths face. ‘You showed the spirit of a true warrior.’

Eadith wanted to believe him but the brave was the last thing she had felt. Reckless, drunk on magic? Maybe. Had her heart finally won in its battle against her head? Definitely.

‘Finan –‘

‘Yes?’

‘What happened?’ Finan shook his head with a sigh.

‘You shouldn’t concern yourself with that now. You’ve been out for nearly a week, you- ‘

‘Nearly a week?!’ The panic made Eadith’s head pound, a pit forming in her stomach. How much had she missed? Had the young witch survived? How did she survive?

‘Relax. Relax,’ Finan placed his hands on her shoulders, his brow creasing as he searched Eadiths face. ‘Please Eadith.’

With a deep breath Eadith did as he asked, choosing to focus on her breathing rather than the pain in her side or her panic.

‘Where would you like me to begin?’

‘From the beginning.’

Finan’s smile was small and Eadith felt the sadness rest on her heart once more.

‘You were stabbed.’ Eadith watched him wince as he spoke, as if the mere words pained him. ‘I found you once it was over, covered in blood and carried you back to the house. Brida left once she realised she couldn’t win. Half of her coven is dead, the other is scattered in the wind… Eadith I was so worried, I – you could have died.’

Eadith watched as he tried to hide the tears in his eyes.

‘I know.’

‘I sat with you every day while the coven healed you, but you had lost so much blood they weren’t sure if it would be enough. They put you in this sort of medically, magically induced coma, said that you’d wake up when you were ready. It was hard to watch.’

‘You watched me sleep?’ Eadith knew she shouldn’t tease but she found no other way to fight her own tears that threatened to spill. Finan huffed out a small laugh and Eadith found comfort in the sound.

‘I read to you too, some fairy tales I found in the hall. I thought you’d prefer that to the Bible in the bed side drawer.’

Eadith struggled to keep her laugh contained, her eyes squeezing shut as she shook. When she opened her eyes again Finan was smiling at her, and this time the light reached his eyes.

She felt warm when he looked at her, like the sun was shining and for once in her life she was actually being seen.

‘So are we going to address the elephant in the room?’

‘Would that be your stab wound or something else?’ Eadith rolled her eyes, grateful for how easy it was to slip back into normality with him.

‘No, no. That I’m willing to ignore for the promise of morphine… When were you going to tell me?’

Mates.

The word bounced around her head again and again. Did she really want the answer to that question? Yes, her heart whispered. She let the silence sit. She could see him finding the words, his lip drawn between his teeth in concentration. She scanned the room while the silence became heavy; there was a fresh jug of water by her bedside, as well as a bowl of grapes. What caught her attention was the vase filled with lavender perched on the windowsill, the patten was so intricate Eadith found herself getting lost in it.

‘I didn’t want to push you.’ Her attention snapped back to Finan. ‘I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you who you were, what you were but… you didn’t seem ready and there were bigger things at play. We were being hunted for Christ’s sake.’ He paused, running his hand across his face before sighing. ‘I didn’t want you to feel like I was trapping you, like you had no choice in the matter - because you do. I want you to be able to choose me of your own free will, not because of some werewolf arranged marriage. I want you to want this just as much as I do.’

Eadith wiped away the tears as quickly as they fell. Finan was smiling at her tentatively, searching her face.

She held his gaze, loosing herself in his eyes.

Warm and brown and wolf.  

She could still run, he was giving her an out, giving her her freedom. But he was offering her a home, one she could build at her own pace. With him.

She reached forward, her hand trembling slightly as locked their fingers together.

‘I need time but I… I choose you Finan.’

No, home was the man who shuffled from her room to her car, carrying boxes upon boxes of her belongings like they weighed nothing.

Finan would opt between winking at her, flexing as he readjusted the boxes and asking if she needed anything. If Eadith was being honest with herself his concern was beginning to annoy her, but she swallowed every snarl.

It was only after she had awoken from a coma did she realise just how close to death she had come. The thought of Finan in her position made her throat constrict and her eyes swell, even after so many months.  

They had stayed at Aethelflaed’s estate after the battle, her coven undoing the damage done to the estate house and the wounded’s bodies. And once Eadith regained her strength she found herself doing the same.

True coven magic was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It surged through each person, each and every one of them like rivers all leading to the ocean, until finally Eadith was submerged in golden light. There was no violence to taint it, just magic as it always should have been.

Eadith had been reluctant at first but as soon as she had seen the young witch walk in with the aid of crutches, she had made up her mind. Ava, as Eadith came to know her as, had faired far worse under the hunter’s knife but her smile never faltered. She always found her way to Eadith, just as she had done on the battlefield, and slipped her hand into hers. Her grip was gentle, never demanding and her presence brought Eadith comfort as she learned what it meant to be a part of a coven.

The pack welcomed her too. One of them was always near whenever she needed something no matter how small or insignificant. If she even glanced at the cereal box on the top shelf, Sihtric was there, a small grin on his face. If she ever found herself thinking of watching a film Osferth was there, offering her a bowl of popcorn and commentary she didn’t ask for but valued all the same.

Even when she walked along the grounds, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face and the company of her own thoughts she would catch a glimpse of a wolf with blue eyes. She knew it was Uhtred from the way it moved, self-assured and at ease as if it owned the ground beneath its feet.

Their friendship became easy and Eadith delighted in watching them with Finan, feeling her own signature blend with theirs.

While Ava and the boys brought her comfort, Finan brought her peace.

He kept his word, letting her take things at her own pace and Eadith loved him for it. He still read to her as she was healed, still brought her fresh lavender and saved the dried stems at her request. He made her laugh until she cried and held her when she thrashed with nightmares.

Eadith admitted she loved him when he dragged her back through the woods in his wolf form. Tail wagging as he nipped at her sleeves, and he had a bark for every cruse she had to voice. For a moment it was like they had never left, neither of them had been hunted by Brida or death. She thought for a moment on the girl she had been and smiled with only a little sadness. She wouldn’t take a moment back.

She was pulled from her thoughts as the tress started to thin and the sky became whole again. It took her only a moment to realise where she was and what lay in front of her. She dropped the bag from her back and rushed forward. The car was covered in debris but looked otherwise unharmed and Eadith felt her sob turn into a laugh and back again. Finan took the bag and disappeared behind a tree before returning as a man wearing joggers and a hoodie.

‘I told you we would come back for it.’ His voice was a little hoarse as he spoke, the light tinkering of keys breaking up the sound.

‘You did. You did…’ Her heart felt fit to burst, the feeling staying with her as she drove them both back to Aethelflaed’s estate.

As the car had rolled to a stop Eadith had taken Finan’s hand him hers and brought it to her lips, mumbling ‘thank you’ followed by ‘my love.’  

His eyes had widened comically large before he had recovered, whispering the words back to her.

Eadith smiled at the memory, months had passed since then and now she was moving out and moving on with him. The pack had their own territory, and Finan had a proper home to offer her.

Eadith winced as she tried to balance a box on her hip. Whether Finan could sense her pain, or he simply gave into his own desire to be close to her the Irishman appeared at her side, taking the box from her hands.

‘Are you sure you’re alright, my love?’ She couldn’t help but smile at the endearment. She nodded as she balanced on her tippy toes, bringing her lips to his bearded cheek.

‘Mmh I’m fine, Finan, do not fuss.’ His smile turned to a frown, but Eadith knew he well enough to see the mischief in his eyes.

‘Well, I am not fine, Eadith.’

‘And why is that?’

‘I wish for a proper kiss; from the woman I love.’  Eadith couldn’t help but scoff, watching with careful eyes as he placed the box on the counter.

‘And what if she refuses, denies you such a carnal pleasure?’ Eadith could see in his eyes that she was playing with fire, but she liked the way it made her feel alive. She removed herself from his grasp slowly, so not to rouse suspicion.

‘Then I’ll have to let the big bad wolf come out.’

Eadith let her laughter free as she ran from him, but the attempt was useless, seconds later she was right back where she started, wrapped up in his arms.

‘A simple kiss and I’ll let you go.’

Eadith hummed in response, taking her time as Finan’s hands roamed her sides. She brought her hands to his shoulders and beckoned him forward with the slightest nod of her head. He paused for a moment, hovering just above her lips.

‘You’ve put a spell on me Eadith.’ Eadith rolled her eyes but leaned in closer all the same.

‘Shut up and kiss me.’ Finan did as he was told with a grin, bringing his lips to hers. Despite herself Eadith couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss, the softness of his lips was addicting and with his hands cradling her head she felt loved. She felt safe.

Watching Finan walk out the door was harder than Eadith ever could have imagined. In her mind it was always her leaving him. Returning him to where he belongs and then setting off alone in a world where she feels a little less whole but accepting of her fate.

This was something else entirely.

Finan had walked out with the rest of his pack with confidence; jaw set, and shoulders squared, fire dancing behind his warm brown eyes that threatened to set the whole world ablaze.

From her seat at the window Eadith felt displaced, like her existence didn’t quite make sense anymore now that he had left her. Something in her screamed to run, to abandon whatever she had found in Finan and do as her brother had done – save herself. But the other voice was louder, a feeling so strong Eadith could barely contain it. It was the pull to seek Finan out, stand beside him as he fought for his family, for his home.

She wanted to cry as she watched Brida’s coven emerge from the treeline, but she was still too proud, too tired to let the tears fall. Eadith could feel the violence roll off them in waves, her stomach churning as she took in their numbers compared to the pack and Aethelflaeds coven.

Their numbers were too few and their opponents hate was too great.

Eadith had seen this before and her family had died.

Clutching her necklace Eadith tried to centre herself before she started reciting every protection spell she could remember.

The action would prove to easier said than done when the taunts started, Brida’s voice shrill as she goaded Uhtred.  

‘And you think that you’re able to just walk away? Why should you get to live happily ever after what you’ve done to me?’ Even from three stories up Eadith could see how Uhtred battled with her words, his signature revealing the sadness and shame he kept from his demeanour.

Finan’s voice broke the silence and Eadith felt her heart stop.

‘And who gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner? What makes you any different Brida?’

‘Oh, how the hounds howl to defend their master.’ Brida laughed without humour, her eyes fixating on the Irishman. ‘I should be thanking you Finan, none of this would have been possible without you.’

Brida let the silence linger like the smell of death, enough time for everyone to come to the same conclusion. Eadith watched Finan’s head drop, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prick as a chill went through her.

They had led them right to Uhtred. From the shelter to Eadiths home, from there to the forest and Aethelflaed’s home. The whole time, even when she thought that they were safe, they had been hunted. But how, they had been so sure?

The question seemed to occur to Finan at the same time, his voice steady as he spoke, the tiniest amount of denial slipping through.

It was a young witch that answered him, his voice dripping with arrogance.

‘Of course, we could track you, you Irish mutt, from the moment you found your mate. Poor little witch was so enamoured she couldn’t keep her signature to herself. Little drips of pretty purple and silver left all over the place.’ Amusement rippled through Brida’s coven.

‘I wonder if that’s the only thing she spreads so easily.’

‘When you die boy, mine will be the last face you see.’ Finan’s voice cut through the laughter, every word a promise. It was all Eadith could focus on to keep herself grounded. Her stomach dropped, and she forced herself to swallow the vomit and guilt.

Mate.

The word rolled around her head as every part to the puzzle fell into place.

Every touch, every glance, every almost-something-more. She had been fighting her head and heart for days and yet with one word, the weight of it, the implication, hushed every argument she made. Her loneliness and fear and commitment issues over the last decade had all been one big cosmic joke.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she watched the punchline shift from man to beast. The shift changed the energy in the air, the threat of violence teetering from one side of the scales to the other.

The collide was unceremonious, teeth and claws and screams and magic.

It was carnage.

It was electric.

Eadith felt every spell, every vibration as power made itself known on the battlefield.

Signatures soaked in black and the ground beneath her feet slick with blood, energy being pulled and manipulated.  

Eadith found herself running towards it, letting herself be consumed by it as she entered the fray.

Her hands moved on their own accord, her lips reciting spells she had promised herself she would never use.  

Without warning Eadith felt warmth envelop her hand and a surge of power through her veins. Whipping her head to her left Eadith came face to face with one of Aethelflaeds witches. Eadith’s first reaction was to pull away, but the witch shook at her and then reached for another witch, and then another.

As new hands joined the line Eadith felt her magic grow stronger. It was like every atom in her body doubled its vibration, her blood running so hot it might as well have been molten lava.

The witch recited words Eadith had never heard but her heart understood and with a single breath, Eadith embraced them.

She closed her eyes as the spell took form, feeling it build in her and the others and then feeling the rush as they fired. Eadith could tell from the screams that they hit their target.

She felt unstoppable as they worked together, channelling their magic through each other, directing it where it was needed.

The fight was nearing its end when Eadith felt the connection break. Next to her the witch fell, her eyes wide and afraid as she coughed up blood. Behind her stood one of Haestan’s hunters, a knife in his hand.

The other two witches scrambled to get away, but Eadith dropped to her knees, cradling the girl in her arms. Blood soaked Eadiths hand as she tried to apply pressure, tripping over her words as she willed the witch to hold on.

‘Not so mouthy now, are ya?’ The hunters voice was mocking and Eadith felt her grief turn to rage. The curse flew past her lips with venom, her eyes trained on the hunter, but he lunged at the last moment.

Eadith felt the weight of the hunter as he landed on her and every inch of the knife as it dug into her flesh.

When Finan opened the door to the dining room Eadith was first hit with the ornateness of it all; polished hardwood floors and a long, mahogany table with matching chairs, carved with swirls and crosses.

The second thing that hit Eadith was the smell of freshly baked goods, bacon, and orange juice. She could help but moan quietly, her shoulders slumping at the sight. Finan’s eyes met hers with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that sent blood rushing to Eadith’s cheeks.

The third thing that hit her was the warmth of Finan’s hand on her lower back as he walked with her, guiding her to the two empty chairs at the head of the table.

The fourth thing that hit Eadith was how warmly she was welcomed. Osferth greeted her by name, a sheepish smile on his face as he loaded another piece of bacon onto his plate. Sihtric welcomed them with a genuine smile, pouring her and Finan a glass of juice unprompted.

Eadith felt like the sun was shining on her after a storm.

Eadith waited for the discomfort to settle in her stomach, to feel ostracized as she sat down at the table filled with strangers. To feel as alone in a room filled with people as she had done the day before.

She reached for their signatures, searching for something, anything that would justify her reluctance to relax.

There was nothing but peace.

As Finan piled his and her plates high with fruits and pastries Eadith couldn’t help but take how their signatures mixed together. It felt like a hot cup of tea on a cold day and the gentle kiss of a mother on a scraped knee, cold beer, and the smell of a campfire. It was masculine and warm and brotherhood.

Eadith didn’t feel unwelcome, her reluctance was the only resistance. Eadith had never ignored her gut, she never could have afforded to in the past but the only thing it told her now was that she was hungry.

The food tasted as good as it looked and Eadith felt unashamed as she wolfed it down.

‘So Eadith,’ Osferth’s smile was shy as he brought the tables attention to her. ‘What are your intentions with Finan?’

‘Osferth.’ Finan’s voice was filled with warning. Eadith’s gaze flicked between the two of them, her brows creasing as Finan shook his head slightly, trying and failing to be subtle.

‘What do you mean “my intentions”?’

‘Eadith, you don’t have to answer, he just being facetious.’

‘That’s a big word for you Finan, who are you trying to impress?’ Sihtric leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised as he grinned at the Irishman. Eadith turned to Finan fully, a grin of her own appearing as she noted the faintest tint of red on his cheeks.

‘Are you trying to impress me Finan?’

‘I- Uhtred what’s wrong?’

Eadith’s eyes snapped to the doorway, the look on Uhtred’s face was grave.

‘She’s here. Gear up.’

‘At least if we die it’ll be on a full stomach.’

The sound of scraping chairs filled the room and Eadith felt her stomach drop. The four men strode into the hall and Eadith struggled to keep up. As they reached the stairs Finan stopped abruptly and turned to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

‘I need to know that you’ll be safe. I need you to hide, wait it out until there’s an opportunity to escape or until one of us comes to get you.’

‘Finan – ‘

‘Please Eadith. Please.’ His eyes were pleading and Eadith couldn’t deny him, just like she couldn’t all those times before.

She cursed him, wished she’d never met him or helped him. She wished that she had let him stay a dog, stay a stray. She wished that she’d never let him into her quiet life or caravan or heart.

She wished she meant it all, but she didn’t.

How many Danes could say they had discussed the boy King’s sex life with him? If you counted yourself then it would be three. Sihtric, your brother, and Uhtred sitting either side of you.  Add in the Irishman that started it all, the baby monk and a vaguely uncomfortable looking Lady of Mercia and the number of people looking unimpressed rises to six.

You sat around the fire; ale pouch being passed between you after another successful battle, but your good spirits were beginning to dwindle as you listen to Edward describe his other conquests.

There were more than you had expected, but you supposed his title and pretty face made it hard for young maidens to deny him. You hadn’t denied yourself the pleasure of admiring him either, long blond curls that grazed his broad shoulders, and light blue eyes, usually set in a frown. You found yourself believing his words before battle, letting his passion seep through you as you lost yourself in the sight of him, arm outstretched with a sword in hand, strong thighs gripping the saddle and a ferocity that one might overlook upon first meeting Edward.

It had the foundations of a fantasy that would have kept you warm.

The conversation moved slowly, Edward relaxing and his words becoming freer. You forced yourself back to the present, preparing yourself to hear another depressing confession.

‘The last was a girl from the camp just outside of Lundon. She was wild.’

‘Wild? Now this I can get behind.’ Finan leaned forward, a new sense of interest washing over him as Edward nodded. You had already heard of the ‘daring’ places Edward had fucked, the palace guest room, the stable, and who could forget his royal tent! Wild, you decided, was something Edward had never come across.

‘She took me out to the woods and laid herself bare before me.’ You watched the interest of the group peak, even your brother raised a brow. ‘She started touching herself.’ He motioned to his chest. ‘I’ve never seen a woman so bold. How is a man meant to control himself?’ Uhtred nodded lightly, taking the ale from a grinning Finan. ‘I laid her on the ground and had my way with her.’

Finan’s face fell. ‘That’s what you call wild? Christ have mercy.’

That was when it hit you. It wasn’t that the King was a bad lover necessarily, it was that none of what he had experience had anything to do with pleasure. Not real pleasure.

‘With respect my Lord, none of your exploits deserve the praise in which you speak of them.’

Aethelflaed’s eyes snapped to you as your words settled over the group. You watched as Edward straightened himself, his hands dusting his thighs before he looked at you. The ease was gone from his denier and for the first time that night you felt like you were speaking to the King of Wessex.

‘How so?’ His voice was calm, interest peeking out from behind his pride.

‘What you have described is the way all Saxon men are. You lie a woman on her back, slip inside – she’ll make a few noises, to hurry you up.’ You shrugged sympathetically. ‘Maybe she is feeling particularly generous, or bored, and will wrap her legs around you, pull you deeper so that she might feel something and coo in your ear a sweet encouragement. It’ll last all of five minutes before you’re lying on your back, satisfied, and she’ll tell how good you were before slipping away. Am I wrong, Aethelflaed?’

All eyes snapped to the Lady of Mercia, the way she looked down and the uncharacteristic blush on her cheeks told everyone everything they needed to know.

‘The thing is, Edward, is that you never had sex for pleasure.’ The King opened his mouth, but you kept going, ignoring the baffled looks from Saxons around you. ‘Only for release and they are not the same.’

Finan was the first to agree. ‘I like the way you think Y/N.’

‘Many men do.’ You stood as you spoke, smiling at your friends but staring pointedly at Edward before retiring to your tent.

It was around an hour later when you sense that you were not alone. In just your tunic you glanced at the dagger at your side before addressing the presence.

‘It’s not very kingly to lurk in the shadows, my lord.’

‘Your words have left an impression.’ The candlelight danced on Edwards features, and you almost missed the reservation in his steps for the soft curve of his mouth. You stood, walking towards him slowly, a small smile encouraging him. ‘After you left, I thought about the things you described, and myself in relation to them. You were right and … and I would like to experience it.’

You could sense his nerves despite the way Edward held your gaze, it was unwavering but as you circled him you noted the way his hands fidgeted behind his back.

‘Experience what my king?’ You stopped in front of him, your chest nearly brushing against his.

‘Pleasure.’

His lips crashed into yours, demanding but soft. You let yourself melt into it, tasting the ale on his tongue before pulling back completely. You laughed as Edward frowned, as a prince he was spoiled, it was clear to see, but you intended to ruin him as a king.

You lead him to the furs of your bed, telling him to sit with a light push on his chest. His eyes were already trained on you but darkened as you removed your clothing, leaving your body exposed. You took delight in how he didn’t know where to look, his eyes darting from your face to your sex with his bottom lip tugged tightly between his teeth.

You let your hands roam around your body, swaying gently till you palmed at your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Your eyes fixated on the growing strain in Edwards breeches as your other hand travelled south, your index finger slipping between your thighs with a gasp.

‘Y/n…’ The sound of your name on his tongue made your stomach flutter, he sounded demanding.

‘Pleasure is the pleasure of your partner.’ You moaned quietly as you slipped another finger into your heat, keeping the pace steady.

‘Show me.’ He sounded desperate.

You took your fingers from between your thighs and brought them to your lips, smiling as Edwards own lips parted in want. You moved towards him slowly, enjoying the growing sweat forming on his forehead and the way he licked his lips.  

He reached for you, but you knelt before him, your hands running up his thighs before you began untying his trousers. He lifted his hips and you focused on ridding him of the fabric before turning your attention to his erection.

It stood proudly before you, the tip red and already leaking precum. You breathed in deeply before pursing your lips and blowing cold air directly onto his member. Edward inhaled deeply, a smile coming to your lips when it jumped in response.

‘You are teasing me.’

‘I am pleasuring you.’ Edward opened his mouth to argue but the words died in his throat. Your lips wrapped around as much of him as you could fit, your hands finding the rest. You bobbed your head once, twice, flattening your tongue as you went down then curling it as you came up. Edward’s left hand bunched in the sheets, grounding himself while his right tangled itself in your hair, his grip creating a delicious burn.

Breathing through your nose you took him as deeply as you could, your throat contracting around him as your vision blurred. The way Edward moaned kept you there for longer than you had any man, quickly finding yourself obsessed with the way his eyes fluttered and his throat bobbed as he tried to hold back the noises. You only stopped when your lungs demanded it.

‘God … Please, Y/n.’

You kissed your way from his balls to his tip, giving it one last lick before kissing up the rest of his body, undoing his shirt as you went. You let your hands roam around the tight muscles of his thighs and abdomen, your tongue following your fingers until you were sat in his lap, your hands tangled in his hair and your lips branding his neck.

‘I want you Y/n.’ You pulled back, lips tingling and bruised, your core brushing against his erection.

‘You want me Edward, but do you desire me?’

‘Yes.’

You smiled at him, the darkness in his eyes and his grip on your hips making you ache. You sunk down on him slowly, enjoying the way he stretched you. You stilled as your hips met his, grinding your clit against his body. The tiny jolts of movement began to pick up speed, Edwards lips discovering the slope of your neck and your hands digging into his shoulders. You wanted it to last forever, to feel the hot ache of him between your legs but you knew he was close. His hips jutted up to meet yours, one of his hands finding its way to your clit as his breath grew heavy in your ear.

His fingers were skilled, rubbing in time to his thrusts while you clawed at his back, your knees beginning to give from beneath you. You came with a call of his name, the tightness in your stomach snapping into white pleasure that washed over your body, wave after wave. Edwards’s pace didn’t slow, and your walls gripped him tightly, convulsing around him until he came with a deep moan. His fingers slowed and both his hands come to rest on your hips. He was smiling.

‘From now on, I think I will always choose pleasure.’

Finan would scoff at them, tease them for their pessimism until a smile graced their wrinkled faces. He would charm them into letting their pleading grandchildren swim in the river and their husbands drink in the alehouse as the sun set.

He would smile at them with the warmth of the sun in his eyes and for a moment they would forget about their woes.

Sihtric was more superstitious, he would laugh with Finan, but he couldn’t help but glance at the fields surrounding the estate. He was hesitant to let you pack away the blankets and give up his cloak but the sight of you on that March morning made all his doubts melt away.

You had decided to forgo your usual winter attire, a linen dress hugging your hips as you stood, barefoot, arranging freshly picked daffodils at the kitchen table. You were chatting with Finan, slapping his hand lightly as he tried to tweak your flower arrangement.

It was obvious to Sihtric how in love Finan was with you, it was all in the little looks. The ones where he thought you weren’t looking, so filled with love and adoration and respect that Sihtric couldn’t even tease him about it.

As if he was any different. The Dane walked over to you with quiet footsteps and the moment he wrapped his arms around you he felt at home. Safe and relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and he became lost in the way melted into him, twisting to peck his cheek before continuing your conversation with your other lover.

His hands slowly stared to travel from your waist to your hips and back up again, ghosting over the shape of your body. You smelt good too, like the lavender that grew outside your little house and the incense that burned inside the tiny church. He couldn’t help but press his lips to the hollow of your neck.

‘So, what do you think Sihtric, do you think it’s a good idea?’ Your voice snapped him out of the trance, his face turning a soft pink at being caught, the question completely lost on him.

‘Ask him again my love, he’s been training all morning.’ You watched Finan’s smile turn into a smirk, leaning back in his chair as you felt heat radiate from behind you.

Twisting in his arms, you brought your lips to Sihtric’s in a quick kiss, you bit back a smile as he chased the touch.

‘As I was saying, I think the berries that grow near the clearing are ripe, since it’s not too late we should go pick them. Just the three of us, what do you think?’

‘I’ll go if you kiss me again.’ You hummed in response; eyebrows raised in consideration as the Dane winked at his friend.

‘Finan didn’t try to barter.’

‘Then Finan is missing out.’ The sound of the Irishman’s laughter filled tour ears as you brought your lips together, nipping at his bottom lip as penance for his cheek.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The clearing was empty, and the strawberries were ripe. Your basket had been filled quickly with fruit and other foraged items with absolutely no help from the men you loved. Instead, they had taken to stealing kisses from you and playfighting with each other. You watched as Sihtric tumbled to the ground, having tripped on Finans outstretched foot. The Danes laughter was the only sign of him as his body disappeared into the long grass.

‘Finan!’

‘He’s fine, he’s fine. It’s you, you should be worried about.’ The man before you practically glowed with mischief, deep brown eyes narrowing as he started to walk towards you with outstretched hands and a smile that you knew all too well.

‘Finan no, you’ll make me drop the basket.’ You were already on the verge of laughter, your feet taking you backwards and your grip already tightening on the handle.

‘Then don’t resist my love.’ You bit your lip in response, eyes daring as Sihtric hollered from the sea of green and wildflowers for Finan to bring you to him.

Darting between the trees you knew you would bever be able to outrun him and nor did you want to, but there was something thrilling about the chase. Maybe it was the way he half growled as your dress slipped through his fingers or the way your heart hammered, and lungs ached, or maybe it was how Finan’s eyes never strayed from your legs and arse or the way Sihtric drank in the sight of you as you ran towards him, eyes almost black with joy and want.

You slowed just enough that Sihtric’s grip on your arm didn’t come as a shock and your subsequent fall to the ground didn’t hurt. You landed on his firm chest, struggling to breathe as he attacked your face with little kisses. As you struggled to wiggle from his grasp, two large hands lifted you into the air and a warm voice sounded in your ear.

‘Gotcha.’

Finan lowered you down with little grace but all the care in the world, his lips attacking you the same way Sihtric’s had. You rolled off of the Irishman with ease, your voice lost in breathless giggles. At last, you placed the basket down, pleased to see little to no damage had been done to your findings.

Rolling onto your back you laid between the two halves of your heart. Your head resting against Sihtric’s shoulder while you played with Finan’s fingers, smiling softly as he interlocked them. You could have stayed like that forever – the sun shining, the smell of grass, and flowers and your boys surrounding you, it was heaven.  You closed your eyes, trying to commit every smell, every touch to memory.

When you opened your eyes, a strawberry was hanging in front of you. Finan lowered the fruit into your mouth, its juices sweet and cool on you tongue. The taste was mouth watering and godly in comparison to the constant stream of stew you had to eat during the winter. As you savoured the taste your eyes moved to Sihtric, enjoying the way he licked his lips before helping himself to a handful of berries.

Finan turned your attention back to him as he swiped the berry juice from your bottom lip with his thumb. He tasted the juice from his finger with a hum, eyes closing briefly in appreciation. Before he could open them, you leaned forward, unable to help yourself, as you crashed your lips into his. Without missing a beat Finans mouth moved expertly against yours, humming once more as he brought his hand to the side of your face.

Once you parted for air, Sihtric shuffled closer to you, his hand finding your hip.

‘How does she taste?’ Finan’s smile spread as he looked from his friend to you.

‘Sweet like always, sweet like berries, you should have a taste.’