#osferth fluff

“I am a pious man. I am a pious man. I am a pious man.”

He resorted to saying it out loud, instead of his prior attempt at only repeating that line in his head, but as his lady - no, the noble daughter of the High Lord’s home that he current sits in, at his table, eating his food - walks about the great hall, Osferth can barely contain himself. Repeating those words over and over to himself quietly.

Well - not too quietly. Finan beside him overhears his mumblings. “What are you on about, baby monk?” Finan laughs and nudges his shoulder when Osferth visibly bristles.

Usually, Osferth wouldn’t have issue with that name. But here, in her presence, it rattles him. The last thing he’d want is for this pure Angel to show her hidden horns and laugh at him as well.

Osferth notices her turn away from her conversation, looking at the table erupting in laughter, trying to make sense of what Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his men were laughing about. Her face ever so scrunches in confusion and a playful smile transforms her lips into something akin to Heaven itself.

Osferth can’t take it any longer. The laughing, the harsh patting his back urging him to laugh along, and of course, the Angel across the room who just made eye contact with him. And she smiles at him.

He’s had enough.

Pushing harshly from the table, Osferth strides toward the two large doors keeping him inside this personal hell scape that he ever-so-willingly walked into; thinking he’d find shelter with an ally of Edward, not to be mocked and ridiculed by his own friends and God himself.

From the table behind him came disappointed hollers for him to come back but he just pushed the doors open and was quickly embraced by Spring’s brisk night air. He remembered there was a shallow creek just outside the city walls and right now, solitude alone with the sounds of only a creek’s babble sounded like a nice way to sit down and talk to God about his troubles. Maybe ask Him why he taunted Osferth so with her presence and why her presence bothered him so much.

The city gates were open as there was no current threat to the city, and he was able to pass unburdened with questions from the guards watching the wall.

He found the creek a short distance from the city and slumped down against a large tree that made its home near the water. The moonlight danced across the babbling creek as it meandered its way further south, toward Wessex. It was peaceful. Here was the perfect place to talk to God. Osferth closed his eyes and rested his hands on his head, elbows on his bent knees.

“Why must you taunt me?”

No answer.

“I am a pious man. Why must you send an Angel to tempt me?”

No answer.

“I’ll never be enough for her, yet, she’s everything I want.”

No answer.

“Give me that, please, give me enough.”

Osferth remembered the first time he met her. They were only seven. Her father had brought her to the monastery as he and his men brought goods to the men of God. Her father didn’t remember Osferth, a wee boy then, but she did. She must have. The way she looked at him when he entered her father’s hall just earlier today. She remembered the hours they spent down by the creek after she asked her father if she could go play with her new friend. That’s what she called Osferth then, “friend.” He wondered if she’d call him that still.

He never saw her again, at least, not in the flesh. But oh, how he dreamed of her. She visited him in his dreams every now and then. He wondered if she’d grown into a beautiful young woman as he had grown into a warrior, not a baby monk.

He had not expected her to be an Angel in the flesh, here to remind him he was nothing but a bastard, warrior monk with nothing to offer her but his undying love. That, would never be enough for her, nor her father. He would only be able to offer his heart; a whole, beating heart would always fall short to money or lands.

A crunch startled him from his off-course prayer. He looked behind him to the source and saw the answer to his prayers and his sentence to eternal damnation.

“Osferth,” she smiled warmly, oh so warmly, as she lowered the hood of her cloak. “I was hoping we would have a chance to talk after the feast my father held.”

She remembered him, she did. She sought him out. His heart beat so fast. He began to stand.

“No, no,” she halted him and moved the cloak so that she sat down on it, not to dirty her pretty dress. She sank onto the ground next to Osferth, too close for modesty between an unwed lady and a man. Osferth sat up straighter, more proper, and moved slightly away from her. He didn’t want to put distance between them, but he had to, for the sake of modesty and temptation.

A small, breathy chuckle escaped her lips and Osferth froze, thinking he had died right then. “I don’t bite,” she said playfully, drawing her attention to his not-so-subtle action.

He blushed, “I don’t believe you do, however,” he chuckled nervously, “I’d hate to be caught and accused of something we had not done.”

She laughed again, this time heartily. Osferth couldn’t find it in him to laugh alongside with her, his statement held truth and worry in his mind. She raised her hand and pointed back toward the city walls, “I am often alone here and no one can ever find me. You don’t have to worry about accusations for no one will see us.”

Osferth looked back to the city and blushed, “What an odd thing to say.” He wondered what her intentions were in seeking him out. “Did you follow me here?”

She smiled at him and shook her head, “No, I had just remembered our day by the creek and figured that you were here.”

He cocked his head in confusion and looked away, toward the water.

“-since you were thinking of me,” she added. Osferth blushed again, if he had to guess, he was scarlet by now.

“I-“ he stammered,” I wasn’t-“

She brought a single delicate finger to his lips, shushing him and delightfully shocking him. The heat from her skin could warm him on the coldest days. “Shush, dear Os,” the nickname made him blush yet again but he’d be damned if he pulled his lips away from her finger, “We’d both be lying if either of us said the other wasn’t on our minds.”

Her finger dropped, to his hand resting in the grass between them, covering it gently. He realized now she was leaning in, toward him. It was a strange, it was unexpected…she was quizzically different than he had thought she’d be now, alone with him. A bashful smile played at his pointed lips as he looked down to her delicate hand covering his rugged one, he turned his palm to her and she laced her fingers in his own. He felt heat bloom, radiating from where their skin met.

“I’ve missed you,” she breathed gentle-like, almost like the soft, cool breeze that surrounded them. Osferth’s eyes met her own, and he knew the Lord above answered his questions when the moonlight danced off her big hazel eyes.

“I’ve- I’ve missed you too,” he confessed. “I think about you often. I often wonder where life had brought you.” His voice was soft with trepidation. Worried he’d overstep in his honestly.

She only smiled softer, “I think about that boy, at the monastery. Dream about him.” Osferth wanted to look away, bashfully, but kept his blue eyes on her. “And sometimes,” she spoke so softly now, like a whisper, like she didn’t want God to hear, “sometimes I’d pray…pray that boy left that order behind. And he’d find me. Steal me away. And we’d live happily ever after. Like in the fairytales.”

He chuckled, hoping she wasn’t jesting but believing there was no way a high born daughter of a powerful Lord would leave her life of comfort behind to live with him, a bastard warrior monk with no lands of titles.

Her smile dropped, her eyes were serious. “Osferth, I’m pleading with you. Don’t deny me of this.”

Osferth didn’t respond. His gaze dropped to her lips, her ever-so-plump lips that she held slightly open, pleading for him to make her his. He leaned in first, she followed.

I’m not taunting you.

An answer.

I’m not tempting you.

An answer.

Your heart is enough.

The answer.

In a heartbeat, their lips met. An his words crashed around him.

I’m a pious man.

So I love an Angel.

I’m a man of God.

And I will defile an Angel.

I’m a bastard, sinner, warrior, monk.

In the days following your near-intimate encounter with Osferth, he grew cold toward you and distanced himself from you except whenever necessary. Eadith now only tended to your wound and once you were able to walk again, Osferth had urged Uhtred to sell the wagon and buy a horse for you so the entire gang could move faster and freer without the burden of a large wagon trailing behind the riders. Without the burden of you in Osferth’s space, you thought.

Two days after Osferth made the request, you rode into a little village on the coast of East Anglia with a decent livery stable and Uhtred went in alone to trade the wagon in exchange for a steed.

Uhtred walked out of the stable with a young, brown mare that had an upside down fishhook on her face. She was sturdily built and looked like a far more capable horse than the wagon horse Osferth had kept for himself. You assumed bitterly that Uhtred would give the dashing brown mare with the hook on her face to Osferth and leave the little flaxen wagon horse for you but Uhtred neared you with a grin on his face and handed you the reins. “She’s yours.”

You looked into your father’s eyes - Uhtred’s eyes - trying to find his jest or maybe an ulterior motive but he looked genuine, if not apologetic. You took the reins in one hand while the other hand ran along the muscular neck of the young mare, appreciating the strength and fire she seemed to posses under her shiny, young coat, much unlike the horse he had given you before. You looked to Uhtred again and almost smiled, “Thank you, she’s perfect.”

Uhtred smiled. Triumphant and bold. You knew then, this horse was an apology of sorts from Uhtred. You’d accept the mare, not the apology. He’d have to try harder, do better.

You hoisted yourself into the saddle of the mare, pain shooting through your healing leg but as soon as you relaxed on her back, it settled into a small ache. The rest of the group mounted their horses too, waiting Uhtred’s direction.

“The livery owner said there is an inn only a short distance north of the village on this road.” Uhtred looked around to his men with a gleam in his eye, “We shall race?”

Finan whooped and turned his horse around. Before you knew it, he took off North, Sihtric following close behind. Uhtred kicked his horse into a gallop next and your new mare beneath you danced in anticipation of following the others.

Truly, you wished you had time to know her before you took off. If she was spooky, hard to control, or even a bit wild but the mare gave you no chance, she took off in pursuit of the other three horses racing without permission from you.

The first ten or so strides, you tried to pull her up, slow her down but she wasn’t having any of it. If anything, your struggling spurred her on more and she set a faster pace. Even though you were a good distance from the three that took off first, you caught up to them in little time, then you passed them without much effort.

Finally deciding the speed in which your mare could move was something to be treasured, not afraid of, you squeezed your heels into the mare and released the pressure from the reins. She raised her head slightly at the loss of tension and picked up an even faster pace. Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes from the wind smacking your face and you laughed to yourself giddily. Soon, you both passed a row of trees to see the inn on the other side but your mare wasn’t slowing down now that she was leagues in front of the rest of the group. You sat deep and spoke to her lowly, trying to get her to slow down, which she eventually did, not before you were a good distance north of the inn.

Once she stopped, you patted her strong neck and thanked her for your ride. Her breathing was rushed and she broke a sweat but she seemed to have more fire within in her to sprint for miles longer. After some time of sitting there and letting both of you catch your breath, you heard one of the horses in the distance near the inn whinny and your mare snorted impatiently and turned south on her own, walking briskly back toward the inn. You laughed at her demeanor and you knew that this pairing was right. It’s like Uhtred asked the livery owner for a horse just like yourself.

That thought made you chuckle, perhaps he did.

When you got back to the inn, you saw the rest of the crew’s horses tied up outside and you quickly figured that they must already be inside. You hopped off your mare, pain struck in your healing leg. You were used to riding shorter horses and had forgotten about your leg entirely from the adrenaline of the ride with your new mare. You stumbled backwards from the pain only to find two hands that caught you from falling into the mud.

“I’ve got you,” Osferth’s voice rang into your hair as he set you upright on your balance again.

You felt that familiar feeling of anger boil up in your chest at Osferth coming in to rescue you after pretending you didn’t exist for so long. You turned to Osferth with an expression of confusion and disgust written across your face so clearly it made him take a step back, “What happened to you avoiding my existence? You know, since I am such a sinner. What about those lessons you were teaching me? You’d prefer to have me die then teach me how to defend myself?”

You were growing heated in your body from the fire and anger raging in your heart. This was the first time you had talked to Osferth since he practically called you a harlot, and you’d let him have all your rage. You voice was growing louder now and you figured in your mind that the best time for the truth was the present, you could regret it later if you needed to. “You know, there was a time when I lust after you? I thought our unique upbringings made us equals. However, I was wrong in both aspects, you’re nothing but a pious,” you took a step closer to him, “self-loathing,” another step, “little,” you were nearly nose to nose, “monk-“

He cut you off before you could add the “-ey” at the end of monk, just to add insult to injury but Osferth would never know since his hands now reside firmly, nearly painfully on the back of your head and over your mouth. He had a firm hold of your head and brought it closer to him, his lips, as he spoke these next words lowly and threateningly through his teeth and into your ear.

“Two of Edwards men are in the inn. They had begun questioning Uhtred and I on your whereabouts when you did not come in with us.” He removed the hand from your mouth, leaving the one on the back of your head, tangled in your long hair to keep you from moving away from him. “You remember that we are supposed to be lovers right?”

You looked into his blue eyes, blown wide with - adrenaline? And you scoffed. “That will be a hard task for us. To pretend to be lovers, to pretend to even like each other…”

Osferth rolled his eyes and detangled his hand from the back of your hair. His hand fell down your shoulder, arm, and found purchase in your hand. Weaving his fingers with your own, “come along. We’ll pretend you’re not feeling well and just wait tonight out in our room.”

“OUR room?” You echoed as he drug you toward the inn’s door. Before entering the door, he handed a coin to a boy near the door, “Please unsaddle, feed, and water her mare.” He pointed toward the big brown mare at the end who was shifting nervously. “And if you have room in any in the barn, please stall her. She looks like she will tear the hitching post down.”

“Like myself with the inn if you force me to sleep in the same bed with you.”

Osferth only rolled his eyes in annoyance at your retort. Pushing the door to the inn open, “Time to pretend.”

You had quickly made your way to the second story of the inn while Osferth made fake excuses for you to Uhtred (who was sitting with both of Edward’s men) and explained he’d retire with you to make certain you were well throughout the night. When Osferth found you waiting in the landing of the inn’s second story, he showed you your room. Your shared room.

It was smaller than the room in Winchester and there was one bed….of course there was one bed. “You’re sleeping on the ground,” you stated as the door shut and you walked further into the room.

Osferth grunted, “As my Lady wishes.”

Surprised he had not given up more of a fight for the comfort of the mattress, you turned around to where he was in the corner of the room - undressing. Seeing only his top, chiseled half as he left his trousers on. You feigned being struck in the eye with an arrow and turned as if in pain.

“Osferth! You could have let me know you were getting nude! I would have stepped out of the room!”

Osferth only rolled his eyes at your comment which you did not see due to your hands protectively covering your eyes. “If you would have stepped out for me to change, that would raise suspicion.”

He walked to the door behind you.

“I doubt Edward s men are up here now waiting with their ears to our door. Should we jump on the bed to feign lovemaking or can you just whimper and moan all night in your sleep to make the entire inn believe that we are humping?”

You turned to Osferth with a devilish smile on your lips, hoping that your crude words had embarrassed him but he only stood with his hand on the doorknob, half naked with his robe in his hands, staring at your darkly. You had to admit, this took you aback.

“Tis not the man that whimper and moans,” he corrected you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure if you had heard him right. “What?”

Osferth leaned in close, “Women are the creatures of sound in the act.”

You felt you chest heat up and a strange feeling in your core. “I wouldn’t know,” you breathed out honestly.

He eyed you up and down, then hummed to himself as if deciding against his internal wishes, “God would want to keep you that way. Innocent until marriage.”

You narrowed your eyes, “God can go fuck himself.” You nearly spat as you walked away from Osferth with a strange sense of defeat. “Where are you going anyway?” You turned back to him with your arms crossed over his chest.

Osferth dropped his dark gaze and seemingly returned to his recent self. Cold and rude. “Since you won and exceeded the little race we had, you didn’t see me come dead last on the little wagon pony. Nor did you see the little beast throw me at the end of the road.”

You giggled at Osferth loosing and being covered in mud. You wished you could have seen him fall. “So you’re going to wash your clothes?”

He nodded, opening the door. “And take a warm bath to ease the aches of the fall.” He stepped out, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, my love,” you called as he gave you one last tired look and shut the door.

You were asleep in the bed when the door to your room opened and Osferth stepped through. He viewed your sleeping frame and was abruptly reminded that when you slept was the only time you looked peaceful, angelic even. He thought bitterly to himself as he blew out the candles of the room you had kept going for his return, that if you were as peaceful when you were awake as you were when you were asleep, maybe he’d marry you. Start a family with you. If only you loved God as he did. If only you were tame and gentle. If only you weren’t a heathen daughter who was content in sin, maybe there would be a future in which you and him could live as man and wife. Away from fighting and politics of the crown. Away from places where words like “bastard” or “lost” followed you two around. Maybe, in another life, there was a world where things were different. He could only dream though, he knew that. Heaven existed after death, not during life. Life was for suffering, if the monastery taught him anything, it was that. So he’d have to suffer and pine after things that could not be, like a life where he could love you.

You stirred as the second to last candle was blown out and Osferth turned to view your sleepy stare on him. “I can sleep on the ground,” you said with a tired gravel to your voice. “You’re hurt.”

Osferth felt heat embrace his cheeks and he almost smiled, “No, you can have the bed. It’s improper for me to let a lady sleep on the ground.”

Suddenly, you shocked him, offering a gentle kindness by moving the covers of the side of the somewhat spacious bed that wasn’t being used by you. “You can sleep with me then.” He stared at you with trepidation, wondering if this was a good idea, “I don’t bite,” you said turning onto the other side and your back facing him.

He wondered to himself if this was a good idea. The aches in his bones told him yes but his own morality told him no. Eventually, he decided to join you in the bed, moral loosing to physical ache and if not for an ache in his bones, an ache somewhere else.

The bed was soft, the covers were warm. The person lying next to Osferth in bed was quiet….until you weren’t.

“I was just reciprocating the feelings I felt in the moment.” Your voice was so small now, full of defense but no malice. It was strange for both of you to hear it that way.

Osferth lie with his back flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the night. “What?”

You took in a deep breath next to him, it made the bed move slightly. “I thought you wanted me too.”

Osferth now sighed, long and quietly through his nose. He did. He wanted you so badly that night. So much he cursed himself as he left the wagon you were in, lying defenseless and denied. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression,” he spoke with an underlying tone of bitterness.

You took in a shaky breath next to him. He wondered if you were on the verge of tears. “Gave you that impression,” you echoed, “sure.” You sounded defeated.

Osferth turned on his side and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you gently to rest on your back. You looked over at him through the plushness of your pillow and side of your eye. His fingers lingered on the shoulder of your shirt, gently rubbing the tips in a confined space he had drawn on your body, daring not to move further but also not having the restraint to pull his touch from you.

“I struggle still with the set of morals which I was raised on.” His voice was a whisper, daring not to raise in fear that God would hear. “I know I’m a sinner - in many ways. For that, I repent daily.” His fingers stopped, he was lost in thought, you could tell from the distance look in his eyes. A silent second passed before he focused again, “But I cannot, in good grace, bring others into a life of sin.”

You shook your head, “You didn’t just refused me Osferth, you made me feel like a common whore.” You stared into his eyes, seeing odd regret. “And if I ask to commit atrocities against God with you, it’s my choice, not yours. My choice on my own path of damnation.”

Osferth blinked away your blasphemy, choosing to pretend he had not heard it. “I cannot take your innocence. I won’t be a part of a sin of that nature.”

You scoffed, “But you can fuck desperate women who had to turn to a life of whoring to escape starving.” You rolled to your side, your back to Osferth again. You’d had enough of his stupid excuses.

You both lied in silence so long you thought he had went to sleep. “Not all of them.”

“What?” You turned around angrily, thinking he should have been to sleep. Propping yourself on an elbow, you looked down at him and he looked up to you.

“You made a broad assumption about brothel maids and you’re wrong.” His eyes were soft.

You narrowed yours. “Oh so you get to know them too? Tell me, do you have a favorite?” You mocked him with a fury.

Osferth chucked, “It’s hard not to get to know them when you’re-“

You held up a hand in disgust, “I don’t need to know what you do to them.”

Osferth raised on an elbow and mirrored you in challenge, his own eyes narrowing. “I thought you would want to know what I do with them since you’ve been begging me to bed you.”

His words shocked you beyond comprehension and when you regained your composure, you slapped him across the face.

Osferth reached up and rubbed his face, looking at you darkly.

“I wasn’t begging, I was simply reciprocating what I believed were shared feelings. It’s clear I was wrong, I’ll admit.”

Osferth grabbed your free hand and pulled you flush against him, now lying on his back. You were sprawled atop his body, lying your full weight on it. You felt a hard, strange length against your stomach. Once you escaped your state of shock of his bold actions you raised yourself up on your arms and looked to him below you with bewilderment.

“What has gotten in to you?” You exclaimed a little too loud.

Osferth breathed out a needy sigh and pushed you flush against him with a strong hand on your back. “I just want you to know, the feelings are reciprocated. I pray every morning and night, sometimes even when you were in the wagon behind me, for God to end my lust for you would come to an abrupt end.” He reached up and brushed your long hair behind your shoulders. You felt the hard length against your stomach again and realized finally what it was when Osferth bucked ever so slightly into your weight above him. “As He often does, God denied me.” Osferth leaned up to kiss you. Eyes closing, lips pursing and you pulled away, off of him.

He looked confused at your sudden denial. “No, you’re not allowed to decide you suddenly want my body because your piety failed you,” you practically spat. You stood from the bed, looking down to Osferth who was more confused than hurt. “If you want me, you’re going to have to earn me again. You’ve been nothing but a pious prick since that night in the wagon.”

You grabbed the feather pillow from your side and all the covers from the bed, making a place to sleep on the floor. “Enjoy the bed.”

Taglist: @godrakin @tssf-imagines @brianochka @victoriagaunt @fan-goddess @sarahkimtae

*Bold means I cannot tag you!*

Also, here is my horse that is written into this chapter! I couldn’t help myself honestly, I just had to.

“I doubt those men are up here now waiting at our door. Should we jump on the bed to feign lovemaking or can you just whimper and moan all night in your sleep to get the lie across the entire inn that we are humping?”

You turned to Osferth with a devilish smile on your lips, hoping that your crude words had embarrassed him but he only stood with his hand on the doorknob, half naked with his robe in his hands, staring at your darkly. You had to admit, this took you aback.

“Tis not the man that whimper and moans,” he corrected you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure if you had heard him right. “What?”

“Don’t put that thing near me or I’ll bite it off, so help me G-“

You were cut off with Finan shoving a cloth into your mouth, gagging you.

“You need to be quiet when we mend your leg, girl.” Finan exclaimed with a hushed, hurried tone in the low bank you were in.

Of course you knew you needed to be quiet. Two of Brida’s scouts had spotted the group as you made your way into Mercia. This resulted in a small chase. Your old, bay horse tripped on a tree root in the chase, causing you to go flying from the horse and hurt your leg. The Dane scouts would have caught up to you lying on the ground and captured you if Osferth had not spun his horse around and lifted you into his saddle, successfully escaping the nearing scouts.

And now, you were in a low bank, with a cloth wrapped tightly around your head and through your teeth with Eadith hiking your skirt up so high that Osferth and Sihtric excused themselves for your modesty. Uhtred of course was busy keeping an eye out for the scouts if they should find the group.

A sharp stick was stuck under the skin of your thigh, poking the muscle. Enough so that when Eadith tried to pull it out, you kicked at her with your free leg, missing her by an inch. She must’ve been used to her patients retaliating, you thought between the surges of pain.

“Finan, grab her other leg,” Eadith ordered. As soon as he had hold of your other ankle, Eadith pulled with enough force that had you reeling in pain. Your hands flew on their own to push her off of you; this time you didn’t miss and she landed on her bottom in mud, painting the arse of her dress brown .

Clearly frustrated, “Go get someone to hold her hands too,” she barked at Finan who obeyed without hesitation, quickly jogging to where the men were. In little time, he came back with Osferth who had his eyes downcast, trying not to look at your exposed legs that neither Eadith or Finan seemed to give a second thought about. “Sit behind her and hold her arms tight.”

Osferth began to object behind you but Eadith shut him down immediately, “She is loosing a great deal of blood and she somehow has enough energy to keep fighting us.” Eadith’s lack of patience had Osferth obeying her order without objections this time. You felt Osferth move behind you to sit and he gently brought your hands behind your back as a cool sweat started to form on your brow and your gaze started to go hazy.

His soft grip felt comforting around your wrists but as Eadith tried again to pull the stick, your hands flew free of his hold and you tried to shove her again, this time, Osferth’s forearm reached around your front and pulled you flush against him. “Sorry,” he muttered - you were unsure if he was speaking to you or Eadith for lacking at his task.

Eadith had grown frustrated. “I cannot try many more times before the stick is too slick with blood to pull! Osferth, hold her tightly. Do not let her go. Same for you Finan.” Then her eyes turned on you, “For Heavens sake girl, stop resisting help.”

Your vision was darkening and you felt a strong hold on your wrists behind you, painfully so. It distracted you momentarily from the pain of the stick wedged into your thigh being ripped from your body. Every touch felt delayed or distant and you were vaguely aware of a muffled scream then it being cut short by a hand over your mouth. You head spun as the world tumbled forward and the last thing you heard was Osferth saying, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

The world went black.

Your eyes felt heavy and a dull ache throbbed in your head as you were jolted awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you were met by a dimmed sky. Slowly realizing you were in the back of a covered wagon laying in the softest bed of furs you had ever slept on. Lifting your head took great effort due to the absence of your energy but when you did, you saw the back of Osferth’s head. As if he knew you were awake, he looked back at you and a smile broke across his face. He pulled the horse up to a halt and shouted for the group to do the same as he moved from the seat to the back of the wagon where you lay.

“How are you feeling?” He asked and took your hand, absentmindedly feeling for a stronger pulse but the action had your heart fluttering just a bit at how concerned he was for you.

“Heavy,” you replied as your head unceremoniously fell back into the soft furs. His thumb now brushed against your wrist gingerly. “Where did you get a wagon?”

“Sold your horse for meat to a nearby village to get the wagon.” Your eyebrows furrowed together in sadness as you looked at him. He gave a sorrowful look, “I’m sorry. I thought you didn’t care for the beast.”

“He was a good mount, he didn’t deserve death.” You were surprised at how your heart betrayed you and began to mourn for the old, ugly gelding.

“He was worse off than you after the fall. He welcomed death like an old friend after the pain he was in.” Osferth’s words made you feel better, knowing the bay was given a merciful death.

“He broke his leg?”

“Aye, lady.”

“Osferth, if I ever hurt myself so badly, make sure you give me a merciful death as well.” Your words were soft and true, he knew you weren’t speaking with sarcasm or anger like your normally did. You seemed too weak for that.

Your eyes were growing heavy again as you felt the wagon rock a little and Eadith’s voice, “She awoke?” Your eyes now closed but you knew Osferth nodded.

“She’ll make it then. She’s past the worst of it.” Eadith reassured him.

Sleep was beginning to embrace you again, despite its return, you were keenly aware of Osferth’s soothing thumb over your pulse.

“What about her fever,” he asked, quietly as if not to stir you.

Eadith was silent for a while before she answered him. “You’re a man of God, Osferth, pray.”

When you awoke again, the air was cool and there was no light but a flickering fire some distance away. You realized you had woken to the wagon shaking, someone was climbing in but you were too tired to care.

Your eyes found Osferth’s and he looked startled that you were awake but the shock soon faded as a smile spread across his face. You returned a weak smirk and you could almost see his heart flip.

“I - uh- brought you some stew.” He moved with a bowl and sat with his legs crossed beside your head. Setting the bowl down on the even wooden surface of the wagon that did not make up your soft bedding, he moved to help you prop yourself up. As you did so, your leg throbbed with a dull, burning pain and your head pounded. You could hear the group at the fire some distance away but could not see them due to the privacy the covered wagon offered.

Osferth smiled and grabbed the bowl., dipping the wooden spoon into the stew and gently blowing on it to make sure it wouldn’t burn you. The action was tender, sweet, foreign. You offered him a weak smile and he brought the spoon to you lips. As you slowly sipped the stew, you grew uncomfortable at the action of someone else feeding you, making you nearly lose your appetite. Once the first spoonful was gone and Osferth went in for a second scoop, you stopped him.

“I think I can feed myself,” you said trying to hide your discomfort.

Osferth furrowed his brows, “Are you sure? I can-“

“Yes,” you cut him off, “I’m certain of it.” You said with a little too much finality to be pleasant.

Osferth dropped his smirk a little and offered the bowl and spoon to your weakened hands. Feeding yourself took a bit more care as you were greatly reduced in strength, but you felt more comfortable this way.

Once you finished, you felt incredibly full and offered the bowl and utensil back to Osferth. “Did you like it?” He asked with a proud expression on his face.

You nodded, “Yes.” You willed yourself to be pleasant despite feeling as though you might vomit from how uncomfortably full your stomach felt.

“I made it.” He admitted with a smile, “I used to make it back in the monastery and the brothers devoured it.”

“Back in the nunnery, I was barred from the kitchens.” You admitted to him with a laugh as your stomach was easing down. You were grateful to share a similarity in your upbringing that wasn’t a sour memory.

Osferth laughed, “But why?”

“The sisters believed I was a cook of the devil for everything I cooked, somehow burned.” You laughed at the memory and Osferth laughed with you. It was a warming feeling; to feel humor again.

“So what were your chores at the nunnery?” He kept his bright eyes on you joyfully, simply happy that you were happy.

You huffed a short laugh through your nose, “To stay out of the way.” You both giggled at that. Once you recollected yourself, “Or gathering. I’m quite a good gatherer,” you admitted with pride.

Osferth raised his brows, “Oh really? Did you acquire that skill whilst doing your first chore?”

You tilted your head at his joke and eyed him in disbelief, “Did Osferth make a jest?” You both laughed. Once the laughing died down, you two just stared at each other in bliss, happy to be in the other’s company.

Then, a wave of realization washed over Osferth abruptly, and he shifted in sitting position. “Uh I forgot, I need to,” he stammered, suddenly uncomfortable, “Eadith is-“ he began, “Lady Eadith is busy. She asked me to,” he tripped over his words. “Lady Eadith asked me to clean your wound tonight.”

You gave a short chuckle at the reason for his sudden change in demeanor. “What must you do to it?” You asked, trying to sound like Osferth hiking up your skirt did not excite you.

Osferth began to blush. “Clean the would with a wetted rag and pour this over it,” he produced a small bottle of what you assumed was strong ale from a pouch that hung on his hip.

You nodded and reached for the hem of your now patched skirt. Osferth’s hand came to yours mid-grasp. “Wait, I’ll do it. I have to go get the rag wet in the river below.”

You nodded and Osferth left quickly. Your heart beat wildly at what was about to happen. You didn’t care about the prospect of pain from cleaning, just the mere thought that Osferth was going to see you immodestly had a light sweat breaking out over your body.

When he returned, you were still propped up, nervously biting your nail. Osferth settled next to your leg without a word, water droplets running between his slender fingers and down the bony knuckles of his hand. “May I?” He asked, bringing you from your trance.

“Yes,” you replied, not knowing what you agreed to let him do but knowing you’d most likely let Osferth do anything to you he so desired. You could almost hear the nuns that raised you calling you a harlot but you didn’t care in the wake of Osferth’s light touch at your ankle.

Osferth grasped the hem of your skirt and lifted your dress, keeping a hand on your other covered leg to protect your modesty and only reveal to him what he needed to see in order to clean your wound, nothing else. He rested the raised skirt on the bone of your hip and just below your undergarments. You kept his gaze trained on your wound; definitely not on your long, slender legs you were, for some reason, bending at the knee ever-so-slightly.

The wet rag moved against your wound and you sucking in a sharp breath. Osferth looked at you in terror, horrified that he hurt you more.

When the stinging subsided, you let out an uncomfortable, strained laugh, “Have you been doing this when I’ve been asleep? Not used to me being in pain?”

He shook his head, running the rag along your wound again gently, “No, Lady Eadith has been tending to you. This was the first time I was asked.” He moved the rag against you again, causing you to tense once more.

You let your head fall back, not wanting to look at the swollen pink wound anymore that you knew was infected from the discolored ooze Osferth was wiping away.

“That should do it,” Osferth announced to himself after some time of the cold rag gently caressing your wound. You heard the bottle uncork and prepared yourself for the worst of it. You remembered helping tend to wounds in the nunnery, when the alcohol was poured over the infected wounds, the girls would scream.

I will not scream, you told yourself, I am stronger than they were.

“This might hurt,” Osferth warned. Suddenly, the cold of the liquid touched your wound and you began to let out a squeal that had Osferth putting his hand over your mouth to silence you.

When it was over and the stinging subsided, he released his hand. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly, “We are in Dane Land. We need to be quiet.”

You scoffed, “Tell the ones around the fire that.” You could still hear some of them talking even at this distance away. You pulled yourself back up to sit against the wagon sideboards.

Osferth bristled at your returning unpleasant attitude but did not say anything. He turned to set the bottle of strong ale at the front of the wagon. When his face found yours again briefly, then his cheeks turned the color of roses and he would not meet your eye, looking down to his hands.

Suddenly you realized your skirt was still hiked up to fully expose your injured leg and the tiniest glider at your undergarment. You began to chuckle at Osferth’s discomfort.

“Have you never seen a naked woman before Osferth?” You pulled your skirt down to cover yourself and he finally met your eye.

“What sins I have committed do not matter for it’s your innocence I am trying to protect.” He looked down to his hands again, they were clasped together.

Now he made you blush and you were glad he was not looking at you to see it. You liked the feeling his words gave you deep in your stomach, so you chased this feeling. “Who is to say I am innocent?” You smirked playfully.

Osferth slowly raised his brilliant blue eyes to connect with yours, eyeing you almost like a predator to find your jest hidden within your face but you were rather good at composing your lies. “Have you been with a man?” His voice was deeper, quieter, softer. You watched his tongue dance behind his teeth as he waited for your response.

Your lungs stopped working for what felt like a lifetime before you could collect yourself. Something about his aura, the way he asked you had you in a trance, you couldn’t lie now even if you wanted to. “No,” you breathed out, “I grew up in a nunnery. There wasn’t a chance.”

Osferth returned his vision to his hands once more, as he fiddled with a loose thread on his clothes. He seemed to be deep in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about in this moment. You longed to get inside his mind and pick it, to know if he imagined you under him. The mere thought of such an act gave way to an uncomfortable want at the apex of your thighs and you decided to do as you always did: not hold back.

“What are you thinking about?”

He met your eyes, and again, he had a deep look of desire in his blue eyes. He took in a quick breath. “I do not wish to tell you what I was - am thinking.” He looked down again, “I should repent.”

“You were thinking of me?” Your voice was soft like a gentle breeze through a field of wildflowers on a warm summer morning. Osferth considered in that moment you might be a living, breathing, walking siren for how you could sound so sweet when he knew you were anything but.

He met your eyes and nodded. “Tis not right,” he breathed, “Not fair to you.” Somehow he was closer to you than before. Who was leaning in? Neither of you could tell.

“I don’t care what’s right or wrong,” you whispered, running your hand up his leather armor and grasping the top of it, gently pulling him toward you, though, there was no resistance. “I want you,” was the last thing you said before your lips crashed on his.

He resisted at first, like the God-fearing monk he was taught to be, like the friend of Uhtred he was, like the caretaker he vowed to be to you, but as all pleasures of the flesh he had partaken in before, he decided he would repent afterward in order to taste salvation on the lips of a devil first.

You had never kissed anyone but you had seen it done between Eadith and Finan and the couples in Winchester. You had practiced on your pillow, and you wanted him, desperately. To say your first kiss was good was an understatement. With your novice lips working with Osferth’s expert lips, you felt like you may have met your God.

He pulled away from you but barely, enough to feel his heavy breath against your own. His eyes were heavy, his mouth hanging agape. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted.

“I’ve wanted you too,” you blushed, closing the small gap between your hungry mouths again and kissing Osferth with the fever of a rabid dog. He returned the want, the need tenfold and gently, but greedily, placed a large hand on your stomach, another around the bottom of your back and slid you down into a laying position.

He now hovered atop of your body, his large frame covering your own like a cloak of protection. Kneeling beside your body, one of his hands found purchase at the base of your head in your tender hairs and cradled you so that your head was tipped back and neck exposed. Slowly, he worked down your jaw to your neck, kissing and licking against your pulse.

An unfamiliar feeling of tight heat was building in your core and you moved your legs to gather friction against the mounting pressure at the apex of your thighs. When you did so, pain from your wound shot through your body and you let out a small whimper. It was enough for Osferth to stop his pursuit in the taste of your pulse.

He pulled back and you tried to grab his armor, pulling him back but he grasped your hands and shoved them away. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, “This is not right.”

Frustration bubbled up in your throat at his denial, “This is the only thing that’s ever felt right in my life!” You whined, sitting up, angry tears threatening to spill. You sat facing Osferth, propped against the sideboards of the wagon.

Osferth shook his head, “Not everything is about you.” Anger was hidden in his quick words.

You narrowed your eyes, “How could this not be about me? This would have been my first time if you would not have stopped.”

Osferth met your eyes defiantly, “Exactly. I cannot take your innocence! I am not your husband, I am not important enough in your life to do so.”

You rolled your eyes, “If I ask you to take me, then you are.”

He shook his head, jaw clenched hard, “No. That should be reserved for someone more special than me” He met your eye and for the first time in your time knowing him, you saw anger in his eyes, “Do not tempt me again. I will not forgive you if you cause me to sin in such a great way.”

With that, he stood and left angrily, the wagon rocking as he hopped out and away from you, leaving you along in the covered wagon, feeling denied, filthy and shamed.

Taglist: @godrakin @tssf-imagines @brianochka @victoriagaunt @fan-goddess

“I see there is much catching up to do,” Sihtric chuckled. All of the men had smiles on their faces except for Osferth, who was too stunned to move.

“Os…” you whispered. His eyes were glued to your stomach and you felt almost uncomfortable under his gaze. All color drained from his face. The men looked between the two of you before realizing.

“That’s not quite what I meant by a parting gift, baby monk,” Finan mumbled to him.

“I think we should give them a moment,” Uhtred said. “Come and find us after. We have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you all too,” you said sincerely.

Your heart was racing as they walked off, leaving you and Osferth alone.

“I would’ve written, but I didn’t know how to get a letter to you,” you said.

“Is it…?” He pointed at himself and you frowned.

“I’m almost insulted, Osferth. Of course it’s yours,” you scoffed. His hands grabbed yours and he finally looked at your face.

“I’m sorry, I just…it was one time,” he mumbled.

“And that’s all it takes,” you sighed. “Don’t feel obligated to be in our lives. It was an accident.”

You pulled away from him and turned back to the sunset. You had imagined this moment a hundred times, and you often hoped that he would be accepting of it, maybe even excited.

“I’m just surprised, is all. I have thought of you every moment since we left and I just never imagined such a blessing in my life.”

He wanted to hold you, to take you in his arms and never let go, but he was afraid to touch you. He was scared to harm you in some way so he refrained.

“You’re all I’ve thought about since the moment I met you,” you admitted. He knew you were fond of him, and him of you, or else you wouldn’t be in your current predicament.

You trusted Osferth and that’s why you allowed him into your bed months prior. You were both tired of being virgins and sought comfort with one another, promising that it would not negatively affect your friendship.

It certainly did affect your relationship, however, you just weren’t sure if it was for better or for worse.

“How long will you be staying for this time?” You asked.

“How long until the babe is here?”

“I’m told it will be soon.”

“I will stay as long as possible, until you and the babe are healthy enough to travel and then we will return to Rumcofa. If that is okay with you, that is,” he quickly added.

“You should like us to come with you?”

He reached out for you again and ever so softly took your hand.

“I would’ve liked it 9 months ago and I would love it now.”

“I was so worried we would never see you again. Or if you did return you’d be upset with me.”

Yours eyes were cast down on your feet and he gently lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze.

“My love is going to bless me with a child of our own, how could I ever be mad at that? I’m only sorry I never told you how I truly felt before and left you with any shred of doubt.”

Tears began to slip down your cheeks and he was scared he said something wrong.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m so emotional these days,” you sighed, quickly wiping your face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. May I hug you?” He asked. You quickly nodded and you laughed at how cautious he was taking you in his arms.

You nuzzled into him and finally felt peace for the first time in months. Osferth jumped back suddenly when he felt something move against him.

“Was that…?”

“Here, place your hand here,” you said, putting his hand on your stomach. Tears filled his eyes as he felt his child dancing in your belly. “It seems she knows her father is here.”

“You believe it’ll be a girl?” He asked, his eyes lighting up as he felt the movement again.

“I’ve dreamt of her, of the three of us,” you said quietly. He knelt down and laid his head against you.

“Hello, my sweet girl. I bet you’ll be beautiful just like mama. I already love you so much, just like I do your mother,” he whispered.

“You’re going to make me cry again,” you sniffled. He rose to his feet and took your face in his hands. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips that melted away all of your previous tears.

“Let’s get you into bed. It’s getting late,” he said.

“That’s how we got into this situation in the first place,” you joked.

“It is, and I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he laughed.

He brought you back to your house where your friends were already making themselves at home.

They all congratulated you and were thrilled to learn you wanted to return to Rumcofa with them once the time was right.

A few days later and you held your newborn baby girl in your arms. Osferth was a great support during the birth and the first time he took her in his arms, his entire world stopped. He praised god for this blessing and for the timing of his return to you.

He finally had a family of his own and he swore one day he’d make you his wife to show his love and appreciation for you.

Osferth had mixed feelings about the palace of Winchester. It served as a constant reminder of the life he could have had if his conception was one of duty and not lust. Despite this he had no problem wondering the halls, he could appreciate their grandeur and history, the resilience and greatness, even the beauty.

The latter was lost on his friends, it was a place of wealth and piety and oaths they did not wish to take. While his Lord was stuck listening to Edward go on about their fathers dream Osferth was free to get lost in half of his history; death and coronations and victories that shaped the land he was blessed to walk upon.  

He immersed himself in a battle that had been fought and won long before his father had made a conquest of his mother. Gold shone through the red and the memory of post battle adrenaline lingered like the taste of honeyed mead.

Despite growing accustomed to the violence his heart remained soft, and that soft heart stopped when his eyes fell from the sharp lines of the painting and onto the gentle curve of your face.

You were standing a few feet away from him, a small smile on your lips and eyes shining with interest.

Osferth had never felt more at home than when he looked at you.

It was the smell of fresh bread and the long grass that grew at the gates of Coccham.

It was the sound of rain on the horizon while and his friend’s laughter.

It was the feel of the fire in Uhtred’s hall and the memory of his mother’s touch, feather light, hazy and pure.

It was the taste of Father Bernard’s barely soup from when he was a boy and Gisela’s homemade ale.

It was the sight of you in front of him, a small smile on your lips and eyes shining with interest.

He felt warm and his face was hot and when you looked at him directly in the eye it was like you had done this all before.

‘They’re hauntingly beautiful, don’t you think?’

Osferth couldn’t agree more, your beauty would haunt him till the day he died but heaven wouldn’t compare to your smile.

‘I do, Lady.’

‘I have seen you here before – in the halls, I mean, you are one of Uhtred’s men?’

It was true, you had seen him there before. Your father was an alderman and often took you to court with him, as both part of your education and in hopes of finding you a match above your station. So far there had been no luck and you were eternally grateful.

It was weeks ago that you had first laid eyes on the man before you. You had been wondering the halls, bored and without company when laughter had interrupted your solitude. You had followed the sound, curiosity getting the better of you and that was when the world melted away.

He was laughing, eyes crinkled, and a hand clutched to his stomach as an Irishman swore what he said was true. It could have been the gospel itself and you wouldn’t have cared. All that mattered was the blonde boy and how kind his eyes were despite the sword strapped to his hip.

You wished nothing more than to be in his arms. You did not understand why but you knew that they would be the safest place in all of England for you.

He laughed again and your heart ached with knowing. You knew him, the essence of him.

The hazy figure of a husband was suddenly filled with him. You could see it all so clearly in your minds eye, like the life you would have together was already a memory.

You had left before he could see you, the man that looked like a Dane had seen you, casual interest weighing heavily on you. But you did not forget him, how could you?

From then on you looked out for him and it didn’t take long for you to make the connection between the monk and Lord Uhtred. Each time you heard news that the Lord of Coccham was summoned you would feel like part of your self was returning.

When you saw him there, brow creased in concentration and appreciation, his thumb pressed against pursed lips, you could not help but finally reveal yourself.

His gaze felt like the sun.

‘I am Osferth, Lady. Uhtred is my Lord.’

‘Osferth…’ His name tasted like honey on your tongue. You turned it over again and again in your mind, while the name was foreign, it felt as familiar as your own.  ‘I am Y/N.’