#osferth tlk

But later in his life he found the true meaning. And now he believed those cursed words more than ever. He saw his lord and friends take wives, build homes. His desire for love, a home and to build—something to last for his family, it grew every day.

You needed money, a small patch of land, and an estate in order to have a wife. The recipe of a fulfilled life. That was what he told himself.

But he had nothing—no land to call his own, no field to cultivate, and only a small pouch at his belt filled with a few silver and copper coins.

In his eyes, it was nothing.

There was a celebration going on in the great hall. He couldn’t remember what Sihtric had said. Maybe something about a Danish god of light. He sadly didn’t remember. Something about giving thanks, which was all he remembered.

He sat in his lord’s hall, watching her—the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Her laugh was pure and sweet, like church bells after a Sunday mass. Her eyes sparkled like crystal-clear water. He wanted to sink into them and drown helplessly.

But he had no house, no land, and certainly no money.

He was Osferth, bastard of King Alfred the Great. A warrior monk serving under his lord Uthred of Bebbenburg.

He laughed humourlessly under his breath. A bastard of noble birth and a sell sword.

“Are you alright, Osferth?” The sweet voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts.

He jumped and looked up to see her. A smile adorning her face, her hair framing it. “Ye-yes, of course.” He cursed himself for the trembling in his voice.

No land, no estate, no money—and now no steady voice, either, he thought bitterly, wanting to flog himself.

She sat beside him. Blood rushed to his cheeks as their shoulders brushed. “You shouldn’t be alone at such a monumental festivity as the summer solstice,” she murmured softly. Her smile made his heartbeat unbelievably fast.

“The others have gone to the bonfire. Their wives pulled them away to dance,” he mumbled shyly.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Have you ever thought of taking a wife of your own?”

He nearly spat out his ale. Yes, he thought. You. I want you as my wife.

“No, it is not my desire. Besides, I would not want to burden any woman with my bastard seed. My children would always be known as the children of Alfred the Great’s bastard.” He spoke bitterly, not meeting her softened eyes.

Because if he did, he would see pity there—the same look everyone gave him. The poor bastard monk. Osferth the discarded son.

But when he dared glance at her, he saw no pity. Only a warm smile, eyes shining like a clear stream, welcoming and kind.

“But what if there are some people who see only Osferth? Simply Osferth.” She smiled.

His heart fluttered, his eyes wide in surprise. Did such people truly exist? Was she thinking like this?! Was she one of the few people who saw him as simply Osferth?

His hands trembled softly. “You must introduce me to them then, for I cannot imagine they exist.” He spoke bitterly, taking a large gulp of his drink.

She suddenly rose and walked away from the table.

Osferth watched in confusion as she made her way through the crowded hall, then returned.

Her grin was intoxicating. “You must be Osferth—one of Lord Uhtred’s great warriors?” She held out her hand, introducing herself. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

His heart nearly gave out. Heat burned beneath his skin as blood rushed to his face. She introduced a person who only saw him.

“Yes, I—I’m Osferth, my lady,” he stammered, eyes wide. “Simply Osferth. I am no great fighter,” he mumbled under his breath. He forgot for a moment they already met. Her beauty made him forget everything.

But she heard him. “Nonsense! I’ve heard of your heroics. They say your swordsmanship is impressive, rivalling even some of the Danish warriors.”

Osferth prayed for the ground to open and swallow him whole. He felt as if he were burning from the inside out. How did he deserve such a divine creature? To bask in the presence of such a fine and kind woman.

“My lady, I must be blessed by God. You-you are the kindest soul this earth has seen. And I am but an unworthy sinner honoured to bask in your presence.”

He nearly fell to his knees in front of her. Her giggle was his undoing.

God must have a plan for him. He was sure of it.

He held her steady. Her thighs in his calloused hands as he moved above her. Her sweet sounds drifting into his ears.

His face was in her neck. Panting against her damp, sweet smelling skin.

“Is this alright?” He kissed her skin up to her jaw. Looking down at her blissed-out face. She could only nod. Her hands fisted in his hair.

He grunted, his hips moving faster. “How long do we have?” He whispered. Kissing her jaw down to the spot behind her ear. His fingers trailing down her bodice, over her bunched up skirts before they finally reached the destination between her legs.

“Minutes.” She panted. Looking to the side, out the ajar door. Osferth followed her gaze. “You think he wakes?” She shook her head. “You powered him out by carrying him all over the village and showing him everything.

Osferth grinned. His hips rolling into hers faster. “I want my boy to see the world!”

She giggled. “Our son is only a year old and can only say Mama, Papa and make a distinguished noise when he wants food.”

Her eyes went back to him. Her smile was bright; it nearly made him stop making love to her. But then she squeezed around him. A low groan escaped his throat. “Woman, do you want to kill me!” She grinned. “No, I want you to finish.” She teasingly whispered, softly kissing him.

It wasn't long before he groaned into her lips. He held her close to him. Savouring his wife's body heat.

“God has blessed me.” He mumbled softly against her skin. “You are my greatest treasure. And our son is my guiding light.”

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osferth

thank the sweet lord baby jesus osferth is so good

no diggity he'll look at you with those puppy dog orbs the moment you snap at him

and he's like extremely careful, hesitating: "you all right, luv?"

and you know if you look at him, you might actually forget what made you mad

so you don't and resume i don't know chopping fucking carrots or some medieval shit

"i'm fine," you hiss, clearly not fine

he's a sniffling lil bitch i just know it

he'll weep cause oh no he did something to upset and he can't live without you

he'll accept your words tho cause he's afraid to poke the bear

and the next time you snap at him he'll try again and it'll go on like that until you accidentally look at that sad baby face and you melt, finally letting him hold you

obviously, he's impossible to stay mad at

sihtric

ugh so attentive it's literally unnerving

sihtric would know the exact moment something in the air shifted

he will quietly try to right his wrongs cause while he's more closed off than the rest of the gang, he's also the biggest simp

he's gonna take his sweet time making it up to you, being annoyingly sweet which quite frankly only upsets you further cause he's making it impossible to stay mad at him

him seeking forgiveness is doing everything for you

he's gonna hold the door for you; do the laundry; cook your favorite foods; tend to the children; get firewood and, water, anything

he becomes so insanely touch-starved when you refuse to give him attention. and frankly you enjoy seeing him like this, all whiny and needy when you go to bed, tucked on your side with your back to him

he wants nothing but to hold you close and have you acknowledge him, but he'd never force you to do anything you didn't want to; however, the thought that you don't want him anymore is too much to keep in his already spiraling mind

"please, my love... talk to me," he pleads softly, his large palm lying open on the space between you.

he's never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but for you he will do anything until you forgive him

uhtred

oh my days i love him but i would probably kill this fucker

the second uhtred realizes you're angry with him (which well it's probs very obvious cause you scream at him before storming out) he's just like: "meh, you'll come back."

and you love him, of course you'll come back, but he's still waiting days later and hasn't heart a peep from you

he's so damn frustrating when he's always thinking his charms will draw you back to him, that he can do anything he desires without any regard to how anyone may feel

but when he sees you with another man he gets pissed

like certified missy prissy pissed

you're nothing exclusive but that doesn't mean he wanna see you with anyone else, and he'll try to make you jealous, foolishly thinking that's what you're doing

when in reality you're literally just taking the time to kindly let down another man, having realized you don't want to be with anyone but uhtred

you're not sure whether you're supposed to be angry or hurt, but when you confront him about him making a fool of you for blatantly flirting with another woman in front of all his men, he gets defensive

he'll definitely make the "but you started!"-kinda argument, but when you explain it to him, he wants wants the ground to swallow him

While Saltwic may not have been a place Osferth would have expected to call home, it was a place that had now become safe. Safe from any and all enemies that seemed to follow Lord Uhtred anywhere he went.

But now the Lord was in Aegelesburg, ordering Osferth and the others to remain in Saltwic until he returned. So they made themselves at home, as best they could, for however long their Lord was gone.

Osferth focused himself on bettering himself as a warrior, now he had the time. Sparring with Finan and Sihtric or simply practising on his own. When he was not out with a sword in his hand, he would be praying. Saying prayers for himself, his friends, his Lord and everyone else that seemed to get tangled up with them.

It was in the chapel he first saw you. You were at least his age, if not a little older. He assumed you lived in Saltwic or nearby, though he couldn't remember seeing you anywhere else other than the chapel. Did you serve Lady Aetheflaed? Maybe you worked in a nearby village?

Those questions swam around in his head, but he was far too distracted simply by how beautiful you were.

He had seen his fair share of women, usually draped over one of the other men. But there was something about you that had him entranced, even though you had barely even glanced at him.

The image of you had stayed with him even as he left the chapel. Though he tried everything he could to keep his thoughts respectful. Even as your face seemed to linger in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

The second time, it was while he was out sparring with Sihtric. He tried to remain focused, but your mere presence was enough to make him fumble with his next strike. Inside, he hoped you hadn't seen it. Sihtric had, however, tapping him with the edge of his blade to bring him back to reality.

How could you distract him so easily? He hardly knew you. Yet you had already invaded his thoughts more than any woman he had ever met.

The third time, you were in the chapel for evening prayers. The resident priest was at the front, reciting his sermon to the waiting crowd. You were at the front, kneeling down with your head bowed and eyes closed.

Osferth slipped into a seat towards the back. But his position put him in perfect line of sight to stare at you with a small turn of his head. He knew he shouldn't, you were a stranger. You deserved at least a basic amount of respect from him. But he couldn't help it. You were the most beautiful woman he had seen.

He hardly listened to what the priest was saying as he stole glances at you whenever he could. The way your lips moved along with the prayers, head low and eyes closed. Your hands clasped in front of you, a small crucifix necklace dangling from your fingers. The soft curve of your lips as you went silent, continuing to listen to the mass.

In the dim lit of the chapel, you looked ethereal. Osferth almost found himself forgetting where he was, tearing his eyes from you as he did everything he could to concentrate on the priest's words.

Whispering a prayer of strength to himself. The strength to resist. To ignore the temptations of the sinful thoughts that lingered at the back of his mind.

But that night, was the first night you entered his dreams. There was no rhyme or reason to his dreams, but when he woke the next morning, he could hardly ignore the lingering desire in his veins.

He could see you out of the corner of his eye, sitting with a small group of friends. He was training, alone this time. Using a makeshift sparring dummy, rhythmic thunks echoing through the air as he practiced different attacks.

He tried his best not to, but he couldn't help but stop every so often. Just to see if you were watching. Working a little harder than usual, just in case you were.

But every time you did turn to watch, Osferth was turned away. Sometimes you would just steal a few glances, other times you would watch for probably longer than was appropriate. You had seen him around Saltwic a handful of times, knowing he was one of Lord Uhtred's men.

The other women, including your friends, would fawn over the two other men he travelled with. Though you knew none of their names. You had heard, however, that one was an Irishman, another a Dane and the man you were now staring at, was a monk.

Unlike any other monk you had met, however. You were sure you had never seen a monk wield a sword the way he did. Nor were you sure you had even seen a monk like him. All the ones you knew were old men. Not…handsome or young.

You shook those thoughts from your mind. That was no way for you to think, especially about a man of God. But as he used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the sweat from his face, before shifting his body to stretch for his next round of solo sparring…you couldn't quite help yourself.

Despite the cooler weather, Osferth's skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. The exertion made his muscles ache, but he knew it would all be worth it.

As he allowed himself a rest, his eyes found yours again. You were still with your friends, giggling and talking. A small bowl of fruit set between you that the three of you seemed to take turns picking at.

Osferth tried to tear his eyes away, but with every slice of fruit you lifted to your lips, he was transfixed.

Heaven help me, he thought to himself, running a hand over his face.

The way you would press the small chunks to your lips, just before eating. Even from here, he could see the soft shine on your lips. Imagining how sweet and sticky they probably were now…

For weeks he had tried not to think of you like this. To ignore the fantasies that would wander into his thoughts. He didn't even know your name, and you didn't know his. How could he think of a stranger in such a way.

Every time these thoughts would pass through his mind, guilt would race through him. Yet those thoughts never seemed to cease. You had invaded his mind. Osferth could feel his heart racing. He needed to get away, to clear his mind of you and all the things he wished you could do together.

He avoided you whenever he could. Hoping that if he didn't see you, he wouldn't think of you. But it only seemed to make everything worse. His daydreams quickly turned from how beautiful you were, how it would feel to kiss you, to far more sordid things. And those thoughts would appear at the most inopportune moments.

When he was taking breakfast with Finan and Sihtric. Seeing a small plate of fruit made his cheeks begin to flush and his stomach feel like it was tied in knots. Immediately remembering what each succulent slice had looked against your lips before disappearing.

To then imagine how those sticky lips would feel on his own, or trailing over his skin. How you would taste mixed with the sweet fruits.

His friends barely had time to ask what was the matter before he pushed his plate away and hurried off. Barely able to ignore the steady throb of his cock beneath his robes. Charging back up his room without even a backwards glance.

It wasn't that he was unused to feelings like this, he was no different to any other man in that regard. He just usually handled it with a lot more restraint. As he reached his room, he was almost panting.

The images his mind had painted still swirling around, laced with temptation. His body felt hot, the pulse between his legs was almost impossible to ignore. This was beyond torment.

He threw himself on his bed. Trying everything he could to simply will the sinful thoughts away. But it seemed to only burn stronger. Osferth cursed to himself, rolling on to his back and running a hand down his face.

"Forgive me," he whispered, though he was unsure if he was talking to his God or to the thought of you.

A frustrated groan left him as he tugged his robes to the side. Laces almost tearing as he tugged his breeches from his body. His skin prickled as it was bared to the cooler room. His cock was almost painful as his hand circled it, his muscles twitching and he hadn't even begun.

Visions of you filled his mind as his hand began to move. There was no rhythm, no thought to his pacing. He simply needed release. He needed you.

He pictured the way the sun somehow made you even more beautiful, how sweet your laugh had sounded. To how your dresses seemed to fit every dip and curve of your body, the first time he had ever noticed he was sure his skin would have burst into flames he blushed so hard.

Then remembering how you had looked kneeling during prayers. Wondering how it would have felt to be looking down as you knelt in front of him. How those lips would feel on more than just his own.

Osferth clamped a hand over his mouth as his release hit him before he could even think. Painting his stomach and his hand, seemingly never ending. It felt so wrong, thinking of you in such a way. Yet he just couldn't stop himself. You were an addiction, something he yearned for beyond reasoning.

He couldn't help himself from picturing how it would feel to have you touching him, to be bringing you pleasure while finding his own. To watch the way you beautiful place would show your bliss.

As his breathing calmed and his body relaxed, yet again the feeling of guilt set in. You didn't deserve to be thought of like this by a man you didn't know.

But that made him think of something…why shouldn't he try and know you?

Osferth was torn. He wanted to get to know you, even just find out your name. Yet every time he considered approaching you, he panicked. Thankfully, as far as he could tell, you never actually noticed.

But because of this, his imaginings seemed to only increase in frequency. Plaguing his nights and soon as many moments of his days as he could. His friends had even begun to notice. Checking on him when he seemed to drift away, teasing him when he would suddenly get flushed whenever you just happened to be nearby.

They had even begun to offer to just introduce the both of you themselves, if Osferth couldn't find the words to do it himself. He refused every time, however. He needed to do this himself.

Yet days passed. And then weeks. He would pass you around Saltwic, he would see you in the chapel. But he never managed to give you more than a polite smile. Chastising himself after every single reaction.

That frustration seeping into yet more daydreams as he would find himself laying down on his bed, working himself to a muffled release. Tonight, was no different. His imagination seeemed to be getting more creative and with that, the guilt was only growing.

Rather than disappearing to his room, however, his feet carried him toward the chapel. Desperate to find some sort of sign that none of this was wrong, that feeling this was natural. That he shouldn't feel guilty about it.

Prayer was his safe place and he needed that right now.

The chapel was quiet, not unusual for this time of night. And it suited him perfectly. He couldn't have coped with seeing anyone else right now.

Kneeling before the altar, he closed his eyes. His hand holding his crucifix almost painfully tight. He prayed for guidance, to be told what to do with these feelings. Whether to ignore them as he had been told as a child or to welcome them as something natural, as he had seen his friends do countless times.

The room was so quiet, only the soft sound of the sudden rain outside hitting the wooden roof combined with his low breathing. Osferth let himself relax. To empty his mind to allow only his prayers.

And he found that, for just a moment. Almost nothing feeling his mind, except the prayers he whispered under his breath.

As he whispered, however, other thoughts crept in. His hand tightening on the cross he held, as though trying to banish them. Remembering how you had looked kneeling before the altar, asking for a blessing from the priest. The soft stare up as you had said your prayer in response.

Osferth couldn't stop the thoughts. Imagining how you would look now. In the soft light of the candles. How you would look as he laid you down on the steps before him…

Your body felt so warm under his touch. The gentle curves, how the roughness of his fingers seemed to make you arch as he worked to undo the laces of your dress.

"Just take me, Osferth, please…" you whispered, hand gripping the back of his neck as you pulled him down for a hungry kiss.

The stone floor was cold below you both, but discomfort was not a high concern right now. There was a desperation to way you kissed him. A frenzy in the way he pulled at the last lace before bunching your skirts in his hands.

Osferth knew he could have waited, brought you home to the warmth of his bed. But you had looked so beautiful. And the way you had kissed him sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't have waited, and neither could you.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing heated kisses to the swell of your chest, finding whatever exposed skin he could find to worship as he moved lower and lower. Planting kisses to the bare skin of your thighs. Your hand tangled in the sandy strands of his hair, trying to urge him to wear you needed him the most.

And he obliged with a soft groan. Barely there licks to your already slick folds, one hand coming up to glide soft strokes into your warmth. His own body burning with desire at just the feel and scent of you. Your body arching from the stone steps, pressing yourself closer as his name fell from your lips like a filthy prayer.

"Please…"

That was enough. Snapping him out of his reverie as he now hovered over you. One hand planted by your head as the other lined his length at your entrance. Pushing in slowly, your joined groans echoing from the walls.

Osferth savoured your heat, the way you felt so perfect around him. His body already thrumming with desire, to the point he knew he wouldn't last all that long. But that didn't matter. You looked so perfect, you felt so perfect…

Both of you moved in unison. Like your bodies had been built for each other, for this. Your release found you first, your hands grasping at Osferth's back as he quickly followed behind you. His face buried in your neck, committing the scent of you to memory…

The sound of the door opening and closing pulled Osferth out of his thoughts. Immediately remembering where he was while becoming increasingly aware of the growing sticky feeling beneath his clothes.

He began to stand, trying to shift his robes when he saw a figure at the door.

You.

Wrapped in a cloak, soaked by the rain. Brushing your damp hair from your face. You stepping into the chapel, locking eyes with him immediately. The object of his affections, of his desires. The woman he had been yearning for, who had plagued both his waking and sleeping moments, was here.

There was nowhere for him to run now. This was either punishment or a gift. Which, he would have to see for himself.

But he couldn't move. Your footsteps were gentle as you came closer and closer. Panic was setting in. Was he blushing? Could you see the damp spot he was sure had formed on the fabric of his robes?

He was so lost to his stress, he hardly acknowledged you standing just a few steps from him. A smile on your face. But he most certainly heard the two words that left you. Two words that had the power to unravel him entirely…

"Hello, Osferth."

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You were only a girl when you first received the pleasure of meeting Uhtred and his group of warriors. Freshly sixteen, Mildrith had taken you under her wing to work as a maid in her husband’s inn. It was the biggest in town and was frequented by most travelers when traveling south, hence the constant need for help within the establishment. In the first months of your position, you had spent many an hour scrubbing floors, cleaning out bed pans, and pouring mead for guests.

It was a couple of months after your assignment that the arrival of the arguably infamous Uhtred of Bebbanburg sparked much excitement within the town, especially in Mildrith’s inn where they were sure to be staying. You watched, wide-eyed, as the Dane and his group strolled through the establishment, carrying such a commanding presence that everyone had stopped to look at them. Behind the group, you noticed a lanky figure trailing behind them, swathed in holy robes, appearing smaller than the rest despite being the tallest. 

‘A Christian monk travels with Danes, how odd,’ you thought then. 

You remembered his blue eyes, always wide like a frightened doe. It was clear he was barely a warrior, freshly taken under Uhtred’s wing, but you had treated him with no less respect than you did the older men.

He was a boy back then, and now, standing before you, was a man; Osferth was now a seasoned warrior like the rest of them. When his back used to be hunched in insecurity, he now stood tall, chest proud. 

“Look at you, baby monk, looks like you’ve grown some hair on your chest," you commented, hand propping up on your hip. His build now filled out the robes nicely, shapely muscles filling in the loose crevices of the garment. 

“Ah, he’s grown them alright, even more down his–” Finan began, but a slap on his shoulder from the king’s bastard had him cutting his words short, bellowing in laughter.

“Very nice to see you again, my lady,” Osferth greeted sweetly, giving you a slight nod. 

“Sweet as ever,” you cooed, turning to the other men, “unlike some of ya!”

They opened their mouth to protest, but you quickly led them into the inn, ignoring their complaints of faux offense. You led the men to a long table in the dining area, where the afternoon meals were beginning to be served. The group of warriors sat down, weary and starved from their long journey. You called a younger maid to fetch some mead for the guests, before bringing over some bread and stew.

“Looks like Mildrith has you ordering people around now, eh? No more scrubbing floors for you then?” Uhtred mentioned, making you chuckle while pouring the liquor into their cups. 

“She has me watch over the newcomers, especially the clumsy ones, but aye, I earned my right to not be cleaning chamberpots now, my lord,” you responded, placing the jug of mead back onto the table. “Doesn’t mean I don’t get my hands dirty now and then!” 

You took a seat beside Sihtric when he scooted over for you, urging you to sit with them. There was a reprieve from the ache in your heels, joints relaxing in relief after long hours of being on your feet. You asked the men about their journey, listening in awe at all the battles they fought and the lands they traversed since you last saw them.

“And they hung us upside down from a tree! I mean seriously, they could have just tied us to a trunk and be over with it, but no, they had to dangle us like some roasted pigs!” Finan exclaimed, hands waving wildly at his retelling. A laugh bubbled from your chest, mixing with the deeper chuckles echoing from the table. 

Behind you, some stable boys had passed by in search of some mead to cool off after hours in the hot midsummer sun. Spotting a familiar head of dark hair, Uhtred points to Eadric, turning to you.

“Isn’t that…? Call him over, I want to know if he is keeping you happy as a married woman!” He exclaimed in sincerity. Confused, you turned around to who he was pointing at, before pulling down his extended arm before he could call Eadric over.

“Keep it down,” you said in haste, the smile on your face dropping. All four men looked at you in confused concern, looking at you as your gaze dropped to your lap.

“I am not a married woman. Eadric and I, we did not…” you trailed off, shaking your head lightly. 

“What?” Uhtred asked in bewilderment, gaze flickering to your former lover who had walked away to return to the stables. “But you both had been so eager to marry!”

“I know, I know. He, uh, he had a change of heart,” you explained, rubbing the back of your neck. They all looked at you in pity, so you plastered a rueful smile on your face, waving it off.

“Tis no matter, we were young, and we were foolish. I-I’ve moved past it, really,” you reassured them. 

“If you need us to do anything, just say the word,” Uhtred said, earning a nod from the rest of the group.

“Aye, Sihtric is quite skilled at making things look like an accident,” Finan said lowly, making you giggle as the Dane nodded eagerly. Osferth sat silently, watching the light in your eyes dim at the turn of the conversation.

“Thank you, but there is no need,” you said gratefully. With a deep sigh, you rose from the bench and smoothed out your skirts. “Well, I shall go see that your rooms are ready, and if there is anything you need, you know where to find me,” you told them, before leaving them to their meals. You were unaware of a pair of icy blue eyes following your retreating form as you walked away, busying yourself with your tasks once more.

Before dusk had begun to settle into the horizon, Mildrith had sent you off to gather some greens for supper from the market. You had hurried to old Hilda’s shop, filling your large basket with greens for the stew as well as some potatoes and grain. You all but waddled back to the inn, balancing the heavy basket on your hip, willing yourself not to drop anything into the damp earth on your way back.

“My lady!” A familiar voice called out behind you, making you stop in your tracks. You lifted the basket higher on your hip, keeping a firm hand on the wooden carrier to prevent it from sliding down further. Osferth rushed to you, taking the heavy basket from your hands.

“Let me, please.”

“I do not wish to burden a great warrior with a task so little, Osferth,” you tried to reason, but the monk had already lifted the weight with ease. He smiled at you, shaking his head.

“No great warrior would deny a lady his aid when she needs it, he would be less of a man if he did so,” he explained, walking beside you back to the inn. An amused smile lifted on your lips, turning to look at the taller man beside you. Your eyes studied the shadows the setting sun cast upon his face, now more structured and manly than you had last seen him. The plumpness of youth had melted and given way to a sculptured jaw, an aquiline nose, and pursing lips. His bright blue eyes once shone with exuberant wonder and apprehension now reflected a more mature wisdom. He carried himself with an air of confidence you had never seen in him before, one that belonged to a man who was sure of himself. 

Catching your gaze on him, Osferth turned to you, raising his eyebrows in question. Your cheeks flushed at being caught in the act, your lips lifting into a shy smile.

“You seem so different now than when we last saw each other,” you said. The monk’s eyes caught the way you slightly bit your lip, watching how the plump flesh reddened at the contact.

“Different in what way, my lady?” Osferth asked.

“You seem stronger. More confident,” you told him, trying to pick the right words to describe the change you have seen in him. “Like there is a fire burning within you.”

A smile touched Osferth’s lips as he glanced at you, the corners of his lips curling upwards. Your eyes meet his icy blues, his dirty blonde tresses appearing much darker in the dimming sunlight. A hum left the monk’s lips, keeping his eyes on yours for a moment longer before returning to the road.

“I suppose I have,” he agreed. Osferth’s longer legs made for bigger strides, and the taller man shortened his steps when he noticed how fast you had to walk to keep up with him. He turned his head to look at you once more, “though I suppose I could say the same thing about you, my lady.”

His gaze roamed over your features, taking in your flushed cheeks, the rosy pink of your lips. Surprise sparked in your orbs, making him chuckle when you turned to him.

​​"You have grown more beautiful," his tone was matter-of-fact, like he was stating a simple truth. The words made your heart flutter, the breath catching in your throat for a moment. You had never been one to be bestowed such compliments, thus making the smallest of praises leaving you flustered. Osferth's eyes twinkled as he continued to stare at you, enjoying the way he seemed to make you flustered in his presence. "You have a certain glow about you, my lady. Like the warm touch of the sun on a summer's day.”

“My, it seems you have become a warrior and a poet,” you jested, earning a chuckle from the man beside you. 

As you neared the inn, young Ida had passed by the pair of you, carrying dried linens. You did not miss the way her eyes caught Osferth’s, the man beside you smiling at her. The young maid immediately blushed, ducking her head as she walked by. His gaze followed her passing form, craning his head back as she passed. You ignored the strange feeling in your chest at the sight, returning your eyes to the muddy road.

“I am certain Uhtred and the others had you meeting all kinds of girls around the land, seeing as you are now quite the charmer,” you teased Osferth, bumping your elbow into his. The young monk made a grunt of amusement, turning back to you. It had gone unnoticed by you when he had begun to walk much closer by your side, the back of his hand brushing against the back of yours with the sway of your arms.

“You think I am charming?” He arched a brow at you, a playful tone coloring his voice. You rolled your eyes as he spun your own words back at you, chuckling as the bastard nudged your elbow in return. 

“Oh dear, I fear all that time on the road has taught you all the wrong things,” you said, letting out a comical sigh that made Osferth laugh. As both of you reached the inn, you gestured for the warrior monk to hand you the basket, but he refused, telling you he shall take it to the kitchens for you, ever the chivalrous gentleman. You led him through to the bustling kitchens, busy in preparation for supper, where he had dropped the basket. Many words of thanks left your lips at his gracious assistance in hauling the heavy load of produce around for you.

“It is no trouble, my lady,” Osferth waved off. Looking around the area, you subtly reached into the basket, pulling out an orange to give to the taller man. You had secretly bought it for yourself, splurging on a treat you had not seen in ages. You handed it to Osferth, who looked equally in surprise.

“Where did you get this?” He asked, eyes wide at the side of the bright fruit. He took it into his larger hand, lifting it to his nose to smell the sweet scent of its zest, his lips letting out a delighted sigh. 

“This was the last one Hilda had, and I just couldn’t help myself,” you said sheepishly. “You can have it, Osferth, for helping me with this.”

“Oh no, I cannot, my lady! ‘Tis yours!” Osferth exclaimed, handing the round fruit back into your hands. You shook your head, pressing it back into his grasp.

“No, please! It is no matter, I am sure she shall have some again. ‘Tis summer after all, and the season brings much fruit into our harvest,” you explained, earning a sigh from the young warrior. You gave him a small smile, placing your hand atop his larger one. “I doubt you can find these on the road anywhere else.”

“Thank you, my lady, you are most gracious,” Osferth expressed, giving you a sincere smile. You stared up at his blue orbs, the corner of your lips lifting into a smile of your own. A strange warmth spread across your chest, making you feel coquettish and timid as the blonde towered over you. The tips of your shoes were a hair inch away from the tips of his boots, his warmth engulfing your entire being. At this distance, you had a direct view of the cleft of his nose, and the way his pupils changed in diameter as he gazed at you.

You were broken away from your trance by the sharp voice of Mildrith, calling you over. Your feet took a small step away from Osferth, clearing your throat. The young warrior sniffled, looking at his shoes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I should go, Osferth,” you said, giving him an apologetic look. He nodded in understanding giving you a small smile.

“Of course, I shall see you at supper, then?” He asked, to which you nodded. You watched as the young monk walked out of the kitchen, pocketing the orange you had given him. You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted higher, a girlish chuckle leaving your lips when he gave you one last look before disappearing down the hall, shooting you a roguish smirk. 

“Oi! What are ya gigglin’ over there for? Get a move on, missy!” Mildrith scolded, making you jump. You squeaked out a small apology, bowing your head when you passed by her to get on with your work, unaware of the way the mistress of the house shook her head at you in amusement, a small smile breaking out on her own lips.

One thing that attracted the numerous guests to the inn was the suppers. They were always boisterous, rowdy, and filled with music and chatter. Even the townspeople spend their nights at the inn, making the establishment somewhat akin to an alehouse with the drinks that flowed and the laughs that echoed through the room. Tonight was no different, the common hall was packed with guests and local folks alike, and chatter bustled through the air as you maneuvered around the room, refilling cups of ale with the jug in your hand. You greeted your regulars, ignored the advances of some that already had one too many cups of liquor, and kept your eye out on anything else your guests might need. You checked on the younger maids walking around, guiding the ones who were a bit unsure of what to do. When you had first started at the inn, working the suppers intimated you, with your timid nature and clumsy hands. The overlapping noises left you rattled, coupled with the growing rowdiness as the night went on. As you gained more experience and became one of Mildrith’s most trustworthy workers, you took it upon yourself to look out for the newcomers, treating them kindly instead of punishing them for every slip-up they made.

You had quickly exchanged your empty jug for a fresh one at the kitchens before walking back into the hall once more. You heard a voice call you over, turning to Finan who was waving you to their table. As you approached, you spotted the women sitting beside each one of them. You recognized them from the brothel a few doors over, a frequent presence during nights like these in your establishment. It was no surprise that Uhtred and his men had found their companions for the night so quickly, their reputations certainly bearing no lie about their proclivities. Your eyes flickered to where Osferth sat with his arm around a young brunette’s shoulders. You caught the way her fingers toyed with the cross pendant around his neck, leaning into the long expanse of his neck. The corners of your lips dipped slightly at the sight, a strange twinge in your belly. You caught yourself before anyone could notice, plastering a wide smile on your face.

“Enjoying the night, boys?” you asked the table, refilling their cups.

“Aye, good to not be shitting in the woods for once!” Sihtric exclaimed, earning laughs and cheers from his companions. Osferth sat silently, observing the way you rounded their table. He tried to catch your eye, but you seemed to be focused on the jug you held in your hand as you poured ale.

“Why don’t you come sit with us for a while? You are working too hard!” Uhtred urged, to which you only gave a smile.

“Tempting, my lord, but my madam would not be too happy. It is quite a busy night after all,” you said, earning disappointed groans from Finan and Sihtric. You shook your head at their antics, before excusing yourself. For a brief moment, your eyes meet Osferth’s, who had been staring at you the whole time. You gave him a small smile and a nod, before walking away, letting out a sigh as the corner of your lips dropped.

You stood by a pillar, leaning on your weight on the wood while watching the crowd. A man had stood on top of one of the tables, strumming his lute while the guests sang along. In the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure approaching the other side of the column, mirroring your position.

“Alright?” He asked, shooting you a concerned look. Another sigh left your lips, keeping your eyes on the lute player, feeling his gaze on the side of your cheek.

“M’fine, Eadric,” you said with indifference. Neither of you spoke for a moment, letting the echoes of the singing crowd fill the space between you.

“Mm, I know you. I can still read you well, you know, despite how we stand now,” he expressed, a somber tinge in his tone. A scoff left your lips, shaking your head at him slightly.

“Well, considering you can hardly read a few words on a scroll of parchment, I think it best if you stop fretting about me.”

“I will have you know I am capable of discerning whole sentences now, by year’s end perhaps I will be able to read you a sonnet to win your heart once more!” A laugh left your lips at his words, bubbling out before you could swallow them down. Your former lover looked satisfied with successfully getting a reaction out of you, smiling as your cheekbones lifted. 

From his place at their table, a young warrior monk watched you and your former husband-to-be. The brunette beside him had been whispering nonsense into his ear, yet he paid her no mind, keeping his attention on you and the way you turned to Eadric, leaning to say something into his ear over the crowd’s noise. 

As the night grew darker and the jugs of ale turned empty, you stayed on your feet, cleaning up in the kitchens away from the ruckus, alone. No Eadric, no Osferth, no grimy hand of a drunkard to grab you close. This was your favorite part of the night, to be granted a moment’s reprieve from the chaotic bustle of your days. It was peaceful to have a moment alone with your thoughts like a soft howl of wind on a dark night. Your hands worked mindlessly to scrub the dirty dishware while you let your mind run loose. There was little room for one’s thoughts in a position like yours. The days would often feel autonomic— clean off the linens in the morning, be in the kitchens by noon, and pour ale for the guests in the evening. The surprise of welcoming old friends like Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric was a pleasant deviation from your otherwise monotonous life.

And dear Osferth. You supposed you had always been quite partial to him among the rest, you were close in age and personality, or at least you were. Where you were timid, Osferth was equally as shy, yet now, he had blossomed into something greater, forging his name into history, all the while you had remained a closed bud still rooted to the soil you had been planted in. As much as you missed the clumsy, doe-eyed baby monk, the warrior sat in your madam’s hall had as much power to render you weak as he did to wield a sword. To be under his gaze had you blushing like a young maiden, and he a dashing knight.

You shook your head, snapping out of your reverie. Osferth had seen many things and met countless faces, surely you did not hold a light to the girls that had come his way. It was no use to be feeling this way, not when he was to leave by the moon’s turn, not when you shall be left alone once more.

Dawn had barely broken through the horizon when you had risen from your cot, stretching your aching limbs with a groan. You had slept for barely three hours, but your body had grown accustomed to your early mornings, often rousing from your slumber with the sun’s rise. The air held a slight prickle of humidity during the summer, giving you no need for furs and a fire during the night. The rest of the inn laid fast asleep, and with the few more moments left to your own, you gathered a clean set of clothes, taking silent steps across the creaking floorboards to step out. The smell of the earth was refreshing, coupled with the morning dew that sprinkled the green grass. It was quiet, save for the howls of mourning doves that echoed through the trees. Humming an old tune to yourself, you made your way to the lake past the thick of the woods, placing your clean clothes on the ground before shrugging off your dress. Clad in only your thin cotton shift, your bare feet padded on the soft soil to approach the lake’s edge. You dipped a toe in, testing its temperature, before stepping down the shallow surface. The water held a slight bite of cold, just how you liked it. You took careful steps across the soft earth, the water rising higher up to your waist. You bent your knees to fully submerge yourself into the cool water, staying underwater for a moment, before breaking the surface to catch your breath. The water felt wonderful on your skin, even more so as it soaked your hair clean of yesterday’s muck. You bathed peacefully in the lake, scrubbing on your scalp and swimming across the water. You allowed yourself to settle, granting yourself a moment of calm before another busy day. Your eyes closed as you let yourself float on the water’s surface, humming to yourself once more.

The quiet peace of your morning was disrupted when you heard the first sounds of approaching footsteps. Alerted, you returned to your feet, looking around for the source. You had no place to hide, not when you were right in the middle of the forest’s clearing. You spotted a large rock situated against the lake’s edge, covered by tall, wispy grass, prompting you to quickly swim towards the stone and lean against it in hopes of hiding your bareness. Through the grass, you spotted a pair of boots approaching where your clothes had been placed, giving away your presence.

“My, a magnificent fish has come to shore!” A familiar voice called out, echoing through the air. Warily, you poked your head out to catch a glimpse of the intruder, only to find the warrior monk. You felt a relief to be discovered by Osferth rather than a stranger, your lips lifting into a small smile as you regarded him.

“Are you here to fish my lord?” you played along, feigning innocent curiosity. You crossed your arms over your shoulders to cover your chest as you stepped away from the rock, revealing yourself to the royal bastard. It seemed he had awakened not too long ago either, evident from his blonde tresses that were slightly ruffled. His feet took steps closer to the lake’s edge, while his hands crossed behind his back. He flashed you a lopsided grin at your query, shaking his head lightly.

“No, no. Though I am a warrior and have traversed these lands and back, I have no skill for the waters. Perhaps the fish will allow me to admire its beautiful scales instead?” he asked, blue eyes raking over your wet form. You bit your lip as he stared at you, cheeks warming despite the cool air. Stiff buds poked against the wet fabric of your shift, still covered by your arms. 

“There are far more handsome fish around here, perhaps you may find some better use of your time with them,” you suggested, making the warrior monk’s thin lips twisted at your words.

“I would rather not, I find this one particularly breathtaking,” he said, looking at you with a gaze that made your skin tingle. Your mind raced with uncertainty, while your skin burned with desire. To be graced with Osferth's magnetic presence had ignited a deep pulsating ache within you, one not easily stoked by any man. Under the morning sun, you gazed upon his face. He was handsome, very much so. The royal blood in his veins graced him with a beauty higher than that of any common man, but all his rugged edges were all thanks to his time as a warrior walking with Danes. You desired him, and now, he stood before you, all yours for the taking.

You looked around, making sure there was no one else in your surroundings, before uncrossing your arms and standing tall, baring your chest to his eye, pathetically covered by the now translucent fabric of your wet shift. 

“These waters can get quite lonesome for a fish like I. Perhaps my lord would like to join me?”

You visibly gulped as Osferth shamelessly stared at your breasts, waiting with bated breath for his next move. Keeping his eyes on yours, the warrior monk disrobed. He had been without his cuirass, only his robes and breeches. Piece by piece, Osferth’s pale flesh became exposed to your watchful eye. He had placed his robes neatly beside yours, before removing his boots and unlacing his breeches. A small gasp left your lips when he pulled his trousers off, standing tall with his gradually hardening cock on display. An amused huff left the monk’s lips at the way your eyes were stuck on his length, chest puffing proudly under your gaze. He was well-endowed, this he knew, it was what garnered attention from all those women after all. His long, muscled legs approached the edge, cock swaying with every step forward. A warmth in your belly grew as the young warrior dipped into the water, prickling your skin as his eyes stayed on yours the whole time. Your chin tilted upwards as he towered before you, the difference in your heights making you feel covered in his shadow, protected.

“I trust you had a pleasant evening?” you asked, voice dropping low with the change in proximity. Osferth hummed, giving you a small nod.

“Yes, though I admit, it would have been much better if it had been spent with your presence beside me,” Osferth said. His warm breath fanned across your face, the heat of his flesh radiating against yours, causing a shiver to run up your spine. His orbs flickered across your features for a moment, his hand hovering above your arm, yet not touching you. The corners of your lips shifted into a downward smile at his words.

“My apologies, my duties prevented me from doing so. Though it seemed the seat by your side had been occupied. Either way, you had splendid company, only the best in town for the King’s warriors,” you replied softly. He shook his head slightly at you, sniffling lightly.

“It was not her company I sought.”  

His large hand covered the width of your arm, pulling you closer into his space. Your hands placed themselves on his chest upon instinct, while his slithered around your waist. His aquiline nose dipped into the skin of your cheek, breathing in the scent of your flesh. Your eyes fluttered close upon the contact, your heart thumping at the feeling of a growing stiffness poking against your thigh.

“How did you know where to find me?” you whispered in his ear.

“I had stepped out for air after my morning prayers. It was then I caught a glimpse of you, walking into the woods,” he explained, lifting his head to look at you. Your fingers trailed against the edge of his jaw, feeling the small prickling of his lightly growing stubble beneath your fingertips. 

“You followed me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him. A sheepish smile formed on his thin lips, while yours lifted in amusement.

“Tis not safe for a lady to be alone in these woods,” he reasoned, tone light and almost playful. He furrowed his eyebrows in mock concern, shaking his head lightly. A chuckle left your lips, reverberating against Osferth’s chest.

“I know these woods better than you, Osferth,” you replied, to which he only shrugged. “Did the Lord speak to you in your prayers, leading you to me?”

“Aye,” he nodded. His hands squeezed the softness of your arms, before drifting down to settle on your waist. “He all but called me a fool, for letting a beautiful lady walk away from my midst without showing my affections.”

“I am no lady.”

“You can be my lady if you will it so,” he said. Osferth’s calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, keeping your eyes on him.

"You have met the most beautiful ladies in the land, and you will meet more. I am but a simple maid, why me?" you questioned, voice dropping to a whisper. A wistful sigh left his chest, thumbs caressing the plump flesh of your cheek.

"A flower may bloom in the most ordinary of gardens," he whispered softly, his voice carrying the weight of genuine fondness. "And yet, it is that very simplicity that makes its beauty all the more extraordinary."

His head dipped close to yours, your lips just a hair's breadth apart from his. "You have always enraptured me, from the moment I had first stepped into your midst," he confessed.

“Do you jest?” You asked, searching for any sign of any sign of insincerity; you found none.

“I do not jest about matters of the heart,” he whispered, leaning his face closer to yours. You couldn’t help the way your eyes fluttered shut when his nose nudged against yours. His lips pressed a kiss against one cheek, then the other, almost in reverence. Your hands on his chest slithered up to wrap around his neck, pressing yourself further into his build. Your foreheads pressed together, basking in its each other’s warmth for a moment before Osferth leaned forward to capture your lips in his. A gasp left you in surprise, though you had quickly softened into his arms. You had let him lead you in pace, clearly having less experience than the well-traveled monk. The only other man you had kissed was Eadric, and even then you were young and had no knowledge of the ways of the flesh. This was different; Osferth kissed you the way a man kissed a woman, a lover, a wife. It was all-consuming, a kiss that bordered on gnawing, coupled with his wandering hands that caressed and squeezed your curves. They were rough despite the fabric of your shift separating his touch from your bare flesh, and as they cupped the sides of your thighs, he silently urged you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You obliged, letting him carry your weight with his hands supporting your rear. His stiff length is pressed between your bodies, its veiny underside pushing against the dip in your folds. A whimper permeated the air between you when he guided your hips to rub against his shaft, one echoed by a grunt from the warrior monk. It was an odd feeling, though deliciously pleasant. It was different from when your fingers would circle your pearl as you lay in your cot, biting back your sounds of pleasure lest someone heard through the thin walls. Your hips began to move with Osferth’s rhythm, grinding your pearl against his cock. 

“Osferth…” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his once more. The man had started to pant against your lips, small grunts leaving his lips.

“My lady,” he moaned out, before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was frantic and desperate, with tongues dancing against each other and teeth clashing. You moaned against Osferth’s lips when his cockhead snagged against your folds, rubbing deliciously against your pearl. The prickling heat in your belly began to grow, but you needed more.

“Please, Osferth,” you pleaded against his lips, before letting out a whine.

“What is it, my lady? Say what you need, and it is yours. I am all yours,” he responded. His eyes met yours, which had turned clouded with a heady tinge. There was a wrinkle in between your eyebrows as they furrowed in desperation.

“Take me, all of me,” you said. Your hand reached behind you, taking hold of his cock to guide it to your slit. With another deep kiss from Osferth, he breached your entrance, sliding you down his length. Your moan echoed through the breeze at the stretch, prompting you to bury your head in his neck. You bit hard into the junction of his shoulder from the slight sting; the lack of intimacy with another man leaving your walls unaccustomed to such a stretch. Osferth’s chest vibrated against yours as a deep moan left his lips when he bottomed out, stilling for a moment. 

When the pain in your walls began to subside, your hips slowly began to move. Large, calloused hands remained on your rear, guiding you up and down his prick. There was a slight ripple in the water from your movements, growing into small splashes when your hips increased their pace. 

You tugged the collar of your shift down, exposing your breasts to the morning air. Osferth leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking on the stiff bud while a hand massaged the other. Breathy moans of pleasure freely fell from your open lips, singing a tune so sweet to the monk’s ears. Your fingers gripped the hairs on the back of Osferth’s neck, your hips never losing their rhythm. His lips switched to suck on the other breast, leaving soft marks on the supple flesh, marking you as his. 

“Do you like this, my lady?” Osferth asked against your skin, before trailing his kisses upward to suck on your neck. 

“Yes, oh yes!” you whined. The thought that someone shall hear your moans and discover the pair of you was forgotten with the way your mind grew dazed in Osferth’s embrace. Your nipples rubbed against his taut chest, the fine sprinkle of hair on the milky flesh ticking your sensitive nubs. 

“You are the most divine,” the young monk moaned, squeezing your rear. Your lower lip is caught between your teeth tightly, almost breaking flesh as you neared your precipice. The sensation of your pearl rubbing against Osferth’s pubic bone threatened to send you into overdrive, shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. The warmth in your core bloomed upwards, starting to spread to your chest. Your walls began to squeeze his cock, signifying the start of your release.

“Osferth, ah, I am going to–”

“Go ahead, my beauty, let it go for me,” he coaxed you. Your release washed over you like a dam breaking through its walls. A whine left your lips as your eyes shut, your features scrunching together in bliss. Osferth’s eyes stayed on your face, watching you get lost deep in your delight. He continued to bounce you onto his cock through your release, before pulling out to quickly tug at his cock under the water’s surface. With the sight of your panting chest right before his eyes, Osferth’s cock released spurts of his seed. The clear water was painted with the cloudy fluid, diffusing into the lake. 

Recovering from the euphoric daze that had overtaken you, your eye stared into Osferth’s icy blues. You bit your lip to suppress the gigantic smile that had lifted your cheekbones, a giggle bubbling out from your chest. Your lover merely raised his eyebrows, a smile breaking out on his sculptured features.

“What amuses you, my sweet?” Osferth asked softly. You merely shook your head, before leaning your head against his shoulder in an embrace.

“Nothing, I am merely overjoyed,” you replied. A radiant glow fluttered in Osferth’s ribcage, his lips pressing a kiss against your hair.

After rising from the water and redressing, you and Osferth sat on the grass in silence. Your head was leaned against his, while his arm wrapped around your figure, rubbing your back in comfort. You wished for this moment to last for eternity, that you would not be called to your duties, and him to his own. Alas, such power was out of your hands, thus you willed yourself to savor the warmth of his embrace as much as you could. 

You felt him reach into his pocket, turning to look at him in surprise when the orange appeared in your sights. The same one you had given him in the kitchens.

“Why have you not eaten it?” you asked. You could smell the citrussy zest of the fruit in his palm, sweet and inviting.

“I was hoping to share it with you,” he said, making you blush. He began to peel the orange, its scent spraying all over. His grip had been too tight, lacking gentleness with the fragile pulp that ended up crushed under his fingertips. You laughed at the juices that spilled on his hands, before gesturing for him to hand the fruit over.

“You are making a mess! Here, let me,” you offered. The smiling warrior handed the orange to you, watching your gentle fingers peel the fruit expertly. Once the rind had been removed, you had handed it back to Osferth, but he had split the fruit in half, giving you the bigger portion. You let out a delighted hum as the sweetness coated your tongue, savoring the taste you only come by so rarely. Osferth watched you with bright eyes while eating his own.