#sihtric

You looked down and smiled the same small, empty smile you'd worn all evening.

"Sit," the young Dane said.

You obeyed.

You kept smiling.

Sihtric watched you for a long moment before reaching out. His fingers caught a loose strand of your hair, winding it absently around them. You flinched but didn’t dare to retreat. 

His voice dropped low enough that no one outside would hear.

"Every smile you fake," he said, "looks heavier than my armor."

Your smile faltered as you looked away quickly.

"I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, not knowing what to say, what he would expect you to say. 

"No,” he whispered back, leaning closer to your ear. “It’s me. I’m sorry."

Two rough, callused fingers curled beneath your chin and tipped it up, making you meet his mismatched gaze. 

Shame burning in your chest you braced yourself for whatever came next.

“Are you hungry?”

You stared at him.

"You must be hungry the way you look,” he smiled and pushed a plate with bread and cheese toward you. 

You snatched the bread and hastily sank your teeth in it. 

“Good girl,” Sihtric watched you eat, then stood up.

You almost choked on the bread.

"The bed is yours," he said, stretching. 

"What?"

“The bed." He pointed toward the furs. "Sleep."

Without another word, he gathered his cloak, crossed to the entrance of the tent and settled onto the ground beside the flap.

You watched him.

"My lord..."

He glanced back.

Or perhaps it had just happened slowly and unnoticeably.

It didn’t really matter how or when, all you knew was that your heart was beating for Sihtric. Unfortunately, Sihtric seemed determined to avoid seeing it, and lately, he seemed even more determined to avoid you altogether. 

If you joined Uhtred's table, Sihtric suddenly remembered an errand.

If you walked toward the training ground, he found a reason to be elsewhere. 

If your eyes found his across the hall, he looked away first.

So when the merchant began courting you, you let him.

Not because you loved him, and definitely not because you wanted him. You were just tired.

Tired of hoping, of waiting, of being overlooked. 

Somewhere between another evening where Sihtric quietly changed seats the moment you sat beside him and another day spent lingering near the training grounds, waiting for a conversation that never came, you finally decided to let go. 

"You cannot keep him waiting forever."

Gisela reached across the table and took your hands in hers. She wanted what everyone else seemed to want for you: certainty, happiness, safety.

You looked down.

"I know."

"And?"

"Tomorrow," you said quietly. "Tomorrow, I'll give him my answer."

You were almost half asleep, lulled by the rain, rustling against your roof, when a frantic drum against your door startled you.

You opened the door and froze.

Sihtric, soaked to the skin, dark curls plastered to his forehead, water dripping from his jaw and streaming down his cloak to a puddle on the ground.

You simply looked at him, and for a long moment he did the same. 

"I tried," he finally said quietly, looking down to his boots. 

"Tried what?"

"To be happy for you."

You stared at him.

"I tried to tell myself it was for the best." He swallowed hard. "That he is better for you.That anything is better than a bastard warrior with nothing to give." 

Your expression slowly changed from surprise to anger.

"Sihtric..."

"He is kind," he continued. "He is safe. He can give you things I never could." 

"But every time I imagined you with him..." his voice cracked and Sihtric reached for your hand. His fingers trembled around yours and before you could say anything, he dropped to his knees on the rain-soaked porch.

"Sihtric, what are you doing?"

"I know I'm too late," he said. "But I cannot let you marry him without telling you the truth."

He looked up at you. 

"I love you. I always have. And I know I should have said something long ago, but even if you choose him or somebody else, even if you never forgive me for waiting this long..."

"I will love you for the rest of my life."

For a moment you just stood there, watching raindrops stream down his face, although you weren’t totally sure these were raindrops anymore then you stepped closer.

He was there when you needed water from the well. The firewood by your house was suddenly always splitted and the leak in your roof disappeared the moment you mentioned it in passing by the training ground.  

It was almost endearing how obvious he was even if he never dared to speak up to you. 

You had tried to approach him, but it seemed that the young warrior was more inclined to wrestle a wild boar than engage in a conversation with you. 

Nevertheless you were not ready to give up so easily. Especially not tonight. The big hall buzzed with laughter and ale, music played and warriors shouted over one another.

You spotted Sihtric in the far end of the hall.

"I noticed you watching me," you said, sliding onto the bench beside him and offering a mug.

His eyes widened. 

"I wasn't," he finally managed, but his face turned crimson. 

Gods, he was adorable. 

You leaned closer. "Did you know I can see the future?"

"You can?" 

You nodded.

"I feel a premonition." 

Sihtric’s expression became completely serious.

"What do you see?"

"A handsome, strong warrior is going to kiss me tonight," you whispered.

Sihtric’s shoulders slumped and the cute brightness in his eyes was gone. 

"He's fortunate," he murmured, staring down into his ale.

You blinked.

"Who?"

"The warrior."

For a moment you simply stared at him. 

"Oh, Sihtric."

His head snapped up.

“What?”

You took his hand.

"I wasn't talking about another warrior."

"You weren't?"

"Sihtric, I was talking about you," you rolled your eyes.

"Me?"

“Yes, you, you silly boy.”

"You… you think I'm handsome?" the colour of his cheeks got even deeper.

"I do," you smiled at him.

"And strong?"

You nodded.

Hope flickered in his mismatched eyes.

For a moment, you simply watched him. 

This place had nearly broken him once. Even if he didn’t speak much about his past, the small glimpses he had let you witness, made your skin crawl. You knew–returning here must have cost him more than he would ever willingly admit. 

Carefully, you approached.

“Sihtric?”

He turned his head. He didn’t tell you to go away, so you took it as permission and settled beside him. 

Without any warning Sihtric's hand slid behind your back, and next you were in his lap, straddling him.

Your surprised gasp crashed into his lips.

The kiss was desperate, fervent, all teeth and tongue, lips trembling like gasping for air after a lifetime of drowning. 

You kissed him back. He let out a broken, shaky sound and pulled back just as suddenly. 

“I’m sorry…,” he stammered, looking away. 

You reached for his face, cupping his jaw. His cheeks were wet.

"Sihtric,”  you brushed away a tear with your thumb. “You should be proud of yourself for coming back here.” 

His eyes met yours and for a short moment you saw again the frightened boy he had once been. Then he was gone.

"I am," Sihtric said quietly. His palm went up and cradled your cheek. "I'm proud of who I am." 

The words seemed to surprise him as much as they did you.