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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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A Reason to Fight

Word Count: 1085

Pairing: Osferth x Reader

Characters: Osferth, Finan (brief), Uthred of Bebbanburg (mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, vague descriptions of SA but no actual scenes of it, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: I just finished Season 4 of the Last Kingdom today and damn, I wanna write for my boys Osferth and Finan so badly. This is just a blurb that popped in my head, mostly just to keep my writing more than anything. Also, I’m considering moving all my fics to my main @smalltownbigheart but I really don’t want my blog to be super cluttered and make my fics hard to find. I’m gonna think about it this next week though. I might not move the ones I’ve already posted but I might start posting on my main. We’ll see. Anyways, hope yall enjoy the angst <3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

You sat huddled in the corner of the room that had been your prison for the past month. A shiver ran through you and a rumble from your belly made you cringe. Smoke creeping in from the open window had you coughing lightly, but you could not drag your eyes from the spot on the wall they had fixed themselves onto, a crack in the wall that looked eerily like the cross that you once worshiped. It was not long before the sound of battle reached your ears, but you stayed in your spot, wrapping your arms around your legs tightly.

It was many hours before a knock came to your door, shocking you from your reverie. Your eyes darted towards the wood, widening in fear. Shallow, steady breathes soon became rapid, fear gripping your chest. No more. I can’t take anymore, you thought to yourself. Darkness began to cloud the edge of your vision, panic making your breathing loud and erratic. Tears that you thought had dried in your eyes suddenly began to swell. The door opened slowly and you began to shake your head, as if saying no would stop the door from opening another inch.

“(Y/N)?”

A choked gasp fell from your lips as a familiar head of dark blond hair appeared before you. Your eyes fell from the hair to the face of the one person you loved most in this world. Osferth’s soft eyes met your teary ones and he moved forward slowly, taking in your state. Your hair was wild and tangled, your dress hanging onto you by threads, and a thin layer of blood coating your thighs. Your eyes, typically bright, were now dull and filled with fear. Even your face was gaunt and tear-streaked, your skin that was always soft and smooth beneath his hands now covered in small scars. “Oh, (Y/N)...” His voice was thick, as though he was holding back tears of his own. Slowly and gently, he approached you, hands clasped so tightly in front of him that his knuckles were white.

Quickly, you sat up, a wave of dizziness making you sway. His hands shot out, intent on steadying you but he stopped himself. The young man did not know what happened to you, but felt that he could guess. What he did know is that when women were finally free, they were fearful and skittish. Slowly, he sank to his knees, gripping the threadbare blanket that had been thrown at you after the first night.

Sitting up straight, you looked down and grabbed his hands slowly. He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them softly. “Osferth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want them to but there were too many and I couldn’t stop them.” Your sobs broke free, a dam breaking as your eyes flooded tears onto your cheeks.

His own tears began to fall swiftly as he shook his head, placing a soft kiss to each of your knuckles. “Do not apologize, my love, please. I will not stand for you blaming yourself.” His words, though stern, were said in the softest voice you think you’ve ever heard. “You are safe now, I swear it. I swear to the Holy Trinity that I will never let you be hurt like this again. I would take my own life before I let anyone lay hands on you again.” His eyes held a burning vengeance, a boiling rage that made you feel protected. Another sob broke from your throat as you lunged forwards, forcing Osferth to wrap his arms around you to catch you. You flung your arms around his neck and cried. You cried and sobbed and whimpered until you were out of breath and out of tears. Osferth, so sweet and gentle, held you tightly the entire time, rubbing your back and whispering how he was sorry and how much he loved you. Eventually, you found the strength to peel yourself from his shoulder, his tunic soaked where your head had been buried. But Osferth didn’t care. He would hold you forever if you needed, let you soak his shoulder in tears everyday if it helped you. His eyes were sad as they gazed upon you, fluttering shut when you leaned your forehead against his. Your hand held his cheek, his own rising from your back to copy your movement. The pair of you stayed in this embrace until a throat cleared at the door.

“We’ve got rooms down near the alehouse. Sihtric is already drinkin’, but I figured I’d at least tell ya.” Finan’s voice cut through the serenity, reminding the both of you that you were still in Winchester and surrounded by Saxons and Danes alike.

“Thank you, Finan. Just give us another moment, please.” Osferth turned to his friend with a small smile, which was answered with a nod and a mumble that sounded like a ‘course’. He watched as Finan left before turning to you. A deep breathe and a shaky one out, then his eyes met yours. “I want you to be my wife,” he blurted out, eyes wide with his own kind of panic. “It is unfair of me to ask this of you now, but I cannot bear to wait another day without you. This entire time that you have been here, I have been waiting and praying that you were alive. I could not sleep, knowing you were here and I couldn’t protect you.” His voice broke and wavered. “I fought today not for Uthred or Wessex or even God. I fought so that I could find you, so I could hold you in my arms again. (Y/N), I love you, and I do not know how I survived for so long without you.” Tears swelled anew in your eyes, fat droplets splashing onto your cheeks. With shaking hands, you held his face gently. A soft smile spread across your lips, the movement of muscles awakening a forgotten ache. “Do you think Father Pyrlig will do it?” He looked at you, a bit confused, as his thumb gently wiped your tears away. “What?” A confused sound choked in his throat.

“Father Pyrlig. Do you think he would marry us? Today?�� He grinned widely at you before nodding.

“We will ask. And if he won’t, we will find someone else.” Slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and intertwined his fingers with yours. “But first, we should eat.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #osferth #osferth the last kingdom #osferth tlk #osferth x reader #finan #uthred ragnarson #uthred of bebbanburg #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfiction #reader insert #osferth x you #angst #finan the last kingdom #finan tlk #uthred the last kingdom #uthred tlk

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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If you're a minor don't interact with 18+ works I'm so tired this isn't a debate

I know some of yall are gonna be reading anyways and I can't control that but if you interact with my stuff under 18 and I find out you are goneeeeeeee pal

So let me be clear: if you have not spun around this godsforsaken earth 18 times or more then do not fucking read the stuff that I mark as 18+ okay? Great. Good fucking talk.

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write? 💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with? 🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

🌿how does creating make you feel? 🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change? 🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? 🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"? 🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you? 💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it. 🍭why did you start writing? 💎why is writing important to you? 📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of? 🤲what do YOU get out of writing? 💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer? 🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to? 💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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A Bastard’s Happiness

Word Count: 4274

Pairing: Beric Dondarrion x Jon Snow’s twin!Reader

Characters: Beric Dondarrion, Eddard Stark, Jon Snow, Thoros of Myr, Jory Cassel (mentioned), Jaime Lannister (mentioned), Arya Stark (mentioned), Sansa Stark (mentioned), Septa Mordane (mentioned)

A/N: Requested by @futuristicyouthvoid!! Sorry it took so long for me to finish this, just had a long week at work and I was feeling lazy. I finally finished myself to finish it tonight but I haven’t proofread so it might be a bit shitty compared to my normal stuff. I hope you still enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned. They belong to George R.R. Martin. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators. I do not consent to my work being published by other accounts or on other platforms.

Being a bastard was never easy. However, being a bastard of Ned Stark and the twin sister of Jon Snow made it significantly easier. Though you were detested by the Lady Catelyn Stark, no one went out of their way to make your life difficult. Your upbringing was fairly peaceful. Jon protected you and your half-siblings were kind. Robb would tease and joke with you, but was never anything less than a gentleman. Sansa was always friendly, bonding over your needlework with her. She was far better than you were, her mother being her teacher, but yours was not shabby by any means. Despite your friendship with Sansa, Arya was also quite fond of you, though not nearly as much as she was with Jon. When she was a bit younger, the two of you would play sword with longer branches you could find in the Godswood.

The Godswood was your favorite place in the entirety of Winterfell. It was quiet and always peaceful. Which is why you had sought it that particular evening. Dusk began to grow, but you could only sob under the watchful eyes of the heart trees’ faces. The godswood, typically a place of peace and sanctuary, was the only comfort you could think of after your brother told you of his plans to leave for the Night’s Watch when your father left for King’s Landing.

You had been aware of this trip as soon as the wheels began to turn for it. You had resigned yourself to the fact that your father was leaving and taking your sisters with him. As long as you had Jon, you could face down Balerion himself. But the Night’s Watch? That wasn’t just someplace you could follow him to. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t. There was nothing at that frozen castle for a woman, let alone a bastard woman. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of being surrounded by the criminals you knew lurked there. Even Jon couldn’t fight the entirety of the Night’s Watch for you.

A particularly strong wind blew through the trees, making you look up. A large frame was walking towards you, forcing your back ramrod straight. Another anxious beat of your heart resonated in your chest before you recognized the shape. “Lord father, I did not realize it was you.” You relaxed as Lord Stark’s stoic face appeared clearly from the shadows.

“I did not mean to startle you, (Y/N).” He settled down on a log next to you. “I was told that I may find you out here. Jon has told you of his plans.” You nodded in affirmation, teeth finding your lip as you nibbled it anxiously.

“My dear, I do not wish to see you unhappy. But I cannot allow you to go with your brother. I am sorry.” His tone was sincere as he placed a warm hand on your knee. Looking up at him with teary eyes, you nodded. You had no desire to go to the Wall anyways, but this command from Lord Stark only solidified it.

The two of you sat in silence for a short time before you spoke. “Father, may I ask you for something?” He chuckled softly and gave you a curt nod. “Would it be at all possible for me to go with you to King’s Landing? I know that I should not ask since I have asked so much already, but I do not wish to stay in Winterfell without Jon. I think I’d like to explore, see more of Westeros. If you would permit it, of course. I-I-... I can protect myself. Gods know I’ve knocked Robb on his arse plenty. And I wouldn’t need much! I would never ask anything to be a burden on you.” You were rambling, you realized, and cut yourself off from continuing with a shaky breath.

Ned gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him and closed your eyes, taking in the feeling. His strong arm was warm and cradled you gently. He smelled of the Godswood and the hall in the keep. Burning this moment into your brain rooted you back to reality and you looked up at him with a smile. “I would not deny you this, daughter. You are a Stark, even if you do not have the name. If it is your wish to accompany us, then it shall be so.” Your face lit up with a grin as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. The action caught Ned offguard, but he returned it nonetheless. “Now, come. You are missing dinner.”

—

The Red Keep was not at all what you had imagined it to be. It loomed over you as the Stark party finished the final leg of its journey. King’s Landing, however, was exactly what you imagined. The stench and crowds as described your lord father had not been exaggerated, making you hate both upon arrival.

It was fairly easy to trudge through the rest of the day, seeking the comfort of a comfortable bed after many months on the road. After all formalities had been seen to, you were shown to your rooms. Here, you had a servant prepare a bath for you as well as bring you food. The woman curstied and scurried away when you thanked her. As soon as she left, you worked on stripping yourself, hands working on their own as your mind strayed to the ride in. It was there, that you saw a familiar yet almost unrecognized face. Ser Beric Dondarrion. A few years your elder, he was someone you had met at a tourney in honor of the betrothal of one of the Tully cousins to one of his own cousins. You were both younger then, you only turning two and ten while Beric had recently celebrated his 17th nameday.

He had gone to the abandoned training grounds that were on the other side of the castle from the tourney field. The day had been long and it was only midday. His father pushing him to find a bride was not something he wanted to deal with all day, so he decided to hack at a training dummy all day instead.

Here, he found you sparring with Jon, still short and awkward and chubby-faced. Despite the small age gap, the three of you became good friends over the duration of the week-long tourney. When you all bid goodbye for the last time, he swore to send ravens and Jon agreed to do the same. Over the past few years, however, the ravens became sparse and the letters not as detailed as when you were children. Seeing his face again had been a slight shock. He seemed older now, his hair cropped short and close to his head and a certain weariness in his eyes that had not been there before. You know, of course, that he had been named Lord of Blackhaven a few years after that tourney, but you were not prepared to see him like that.

Reaching up, you pulled free the few pins in your hair, shaking your mane out as you did. Your fingers pressed lightly into the slightly aching areas the metal had left behind. Once you were free from your confined clothing, you grabbed a robe from one of your chests that had been delivered to your room. It was slightly too warm for the warm climate of King’s Landing. The thick material still smelled of home, however, and it brought a sense of comfort to you. You wrapped it around yourself, burying your nose into your shoulder.

A soft knock broke you from your reverie and had your feet following the sound to your door. “Thank the gods,” you muttered to yourself. The ache in your stomach had begun to grow. You were quite surprised, however, to find someone holding a tray of food that was not your maid. “Lord Beric!” The shock must have been evident upon your face because he simply chuckled and nodded.

“Lady (Y/N). A pleasure to see you again after all these years.” Still a gentleman, it seemed, given his use of a title that did not belong to you. “I thought I had seen you this morning in the Great Hall but I was not sure. Forgive the intrusion, but I had to see for myself if it was truly you.” There was an almost childlike expression of excitement on his face as he gazed upon you. A beat of breath held silence between the two of you before he realized he had caught you at a stage of undress.

“I was wondering the same, actually.” You admitted, wrapping yourself a bit tighter in your robe. “Forgive my state, I was expecting my maid.” He nodded, holding up the tray he seemed to have forgotten momentarily.

“Yes, that is where I got this. She went off to fetch bathwater, I believe.” He kept his eyes firmly planted on your face, honor not allowing his eyes to drift. The thought made you smile slightly, glad to know he hadn’t grown out of his knightly habits. “Jon is not with you?” In the short time he knew you both, the dark-headed twins were never far from one another.

You shook your head gently, opening the door fully and gesturing for him to come in. He set the tray of food down on the table before turning back to you. “I’m afraid not. He’s actually gone to the Wall. My brother plans on taking the black.” A bittersweet smile graced your lips.

He answered with his own small frown. “I’m sorry to hear that. For you, at least. I know that must not have been easy.” You shrugged slightly but nodded in affirmation.

“I will be alright. It’s about time I got rid of the sack of bones.” You attempted with a lighthearted joke, which he graciously chuckled at. “Truthfully, I am glad he is doing what will make him happy. He deserves it.”

Beric took a few steps closer to you. “And, if I may be so forward, my lady, what do you plan? Hopefully to find your own happiness.”

Your cheeks warmed imperceptibly. “I do hope to find that, yes. I must admit, I have thought quite a bit on what I will do here, but I still do not know.” You chuckled softly, eyes flicking up to his.

“Perhaps we would be able to know each other better while you are here. If you can make the time for me, of course.” His tone was teasing and the glint in his eyes was full of mirth. The soft scuttle of shoes on the stone behind you drew your attention from the knight in front of you. Your maid had returned with two others to fill your bath. “For now, my lady, I will leave you.”

“I think I will be able to make time to see you, my lord. A very thoughtful offer that I would gladly take. A good night to you, Lord Beric.” He now stood right in front of you, bowing to take your hand. His lips brushed your knuckles, light as a feather. Your eyes never left each others, so you curtseyed, the only thing you could think to do.

“Sleep well, my lady.” With that, he was gone and your maid was informing you that your bath was ready. When you sank into the warm water, you blamed the red heat across your face on the steam.

—

Days turned into weeks that turned into months of your time in King’s Landing. Three months, to be exact. You managed to fill your days despite your earlier doubts. You spent your time either exploring the Red Keep with Arya, working your needlepoint with Sansa, or spending time with Beric. Often times, the two of you would spar with one another, There were days, however, when you spent your time with him walking through the gardens or walking the markets of King’s Landing.

“My lady, I hope I have not kept you waiting.” His voice behind you made you startle, but you turned to look up at him with a warm smile.

“Not at all, my lord.” You took the arm he offered to you before your short trek to the palace gardens. “I hope your morning was kind to you.” He had told you before that he prefers to do any and all business that he must as Lord of Blackhaven.

“It was nothing too difficult, my lady. Mostly, I spent my time waiting for a delivery from the marketplace.” Your brow quirked at him but you kept your face forward.

A small smile graced your lips when you felt his eyes on your face. “I hope your purchase was worth your wait and coin, my lord.” He nodded in agreement.

“I suppose you will have to tell me.” The two of you came to a halt as he removed his arm from your hand to reach into his coat. From an interior pocket, he produced a box, just longer than his hand that it sat upon.

Your eyes lit up in surprise as you gazed up at him. “Is it…?” Gifts were not something you were entirely unused to, but they were very unused to handsome young men, even if it was just friendly.

“For you, my lady. I hope you will find it as beautiful as I find you.” His words were spoken gently, though they still brought what you were sure was a pink dusting to your cheeks.

Opening the box, you found the most beautiful dagger that you had ever seen. The hilt had carvings of direwolves on one side, while a small purple jewel, one of his house’s colors, sat in the middle of the engravings on the other side. Your eyes, suddenly watery, turned up to him.”My lord, it’s…” Words failed to come to you. “I don’t know that I can accept this.” He smiled and shook his head, clasping the hand that held the knife gently.

“You can and you will. I insist.” You couldn’t help the grin that grew on your cheeks. The moment your eyes met, however, you swore a spark hit your chest. His gaze drew you in, leaving you nearly breathless. No words were spoken, the heat of his hand on yours suddenly very intense.

“Lady (Y/N), your father sends for you.” The voice of one of your father’s men snapped the pair of you from whatever moment you had just been caught in. A guilty blush engulfed your cheeks as you nodded.

“Thank you. I will be along in just a moment.” You returned your gaze to Beric. “Only because you insist, my lord, I will thank you for this incredibly generous gift.” You dipped into a curtsey before placing the lid atop the box again. He bid you a soft goodbye, which you returned, before you followed your father’s man.

Arriving in your father’s chambers, a bolt of panic struck any floating feelings you held of your moment with Lord Beric into the dirt. “Father!” You cried as you rushed to his bedside, kneeling by your lord father’s head. Sansa stood to your right while Arya, on the other side of the bed, looked almost wrathful. “What has happened?” A gleam of sweat covered your father’s pale face and his leg was propped up under blanket. “There was a… situation with Ser Jaime.” Ned did not wish to delve into the details with your younger sisters around, so he motioned to Septa Mordane, who herded the younger two Stark girls from the room. “He attacked us in the streets. Jory is dead.” His hand found your free one, gripping it gently as a sob racked through your chest. Jory had been the first of your father’s men to train you willingly, acting as another older brother. You held a great amount of love for the man. Gently, your father tugged on your hand and motioned for you to sit on the bed next to him. You obliged, Beric’s gift resting in your lap. “Daughter, I worry. For your safety, especially. You do not have the Stark name to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, father. I can protect Sansa and Arya, too.” Your voice was pleading as you looked at him, scared of his next words. His smile was sad as he looked up at you. “I know, my child, I know. But I would rather you protect yourself somewhere else. King’s Landing is too dangerous. (Y/N), I want you to leave tonight. Ride for Riverrun. Though Cat is not your mother, the Tullys will still protect you. You are family. Hoster and Edmure have always been kind to you and your brother.” He readjusted his position on the bed gently, trying to keep the pain from flaring. “Tonight, you will pack a bag and take some money and food and ride.” His voice left no room for discussion. Though you knew he wanted only to protect you, fat tears still dropped onto your cheeks.

He reached up to pet your hair softly before looking at the box in your lap. “A gift? From who?” His attempts to distract you from tears made you smile softly. You lifted the lid from the box and presented the blade to him. “Lord Beric. He has just graced me with it before I came to you.” Ned’s eyes looked over you with a small, knowing smile.

“I’m sorry I am making you do this thing, but it must be done.” You nodded your agreement before standing. “And, for your safety, I beg that you do not tell anyone that you are leaving. I will explain it to Sansa and Arya.”

You nodded again. “I suppose I shall go prepare then. I shall see you tonight, Lord Father.”

That night, you found yourself pressing a kiss goodbye to your father’s cheek before one of his men whisked you away to the stables. An extra simple gown, a bag of gold, and a few days rations of food weighed your saddle pack while your sword and gifted dagger swayed on your belt.

—

“Lord Beric Dondarrion. You shall have the command. Assemble one hundred men and ride to Ser Gregor’s keep.” The young lord agreed and, after Lord Eddard sentenced Ser Gregor, was ready to leave so he may prepare. “A moment, Lord Beric.” The younger man nodded and approached the Hand as everyone else left the Great Hall. Though the pair received an inquiring look from Littlefinger, they were soon alone. Ned’s voice was soft as he spoke, not wanting to be overheard. “As well as bringing Ser Gregor to justice, I would like to ask something else of you.”

Beric nodded. “Anything, Lord Hand.” Eddard’s gaze flicked to the doors and then to the hall leading to the Small Council room.

“My daughter, (Y/N). I have sent her to the Riverlands for her safety, after I was attacked. I told her to ride for Riverrun, but I fear she shall not go to my good father’s home. I ask that you search for her while in the Riverlands. Protect her, make sure she makes it to the Wall if you can. I imagine that is where she will want to go.” Beric’s heart skipped a beat at the Hand’s request. When you had disappeared a week ago, no note and no goodbye, he feared that he overstepped his boundaries. “I will find her, Lord Hand, and give my life for hers if I must.”

—

Months had passed since you had fled King’s Landing. Eddard’s suspicions were correct. He was taken prisoner and beheaded not long after. The rest of your household was killed with him, the only ones spared being Sansa and, presumably, Arya. When you had heard the news, you were staying at an inn in the Riverlands. Riverrun was nearby, but you had not yet decided if you wished to continue as your lord father had wished or if you wanted to find your brother.

Sitting at a table by yourself, you mulled over your thoughts with a tank of ale in your hands and the leftover remnants of your warm dinner in front of you. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice the man who decided to sit across from you. He was pock-faced and stank immensely of piss and ale. Immediately, he tried to get you to lay with him, his words slurred together. His attempt was shortlived, thankfully, as a lithe man with a bun pulling the hair from his face stepped in. The new man boxed the other around the ears, which had the drunk man grumbling before stumbling away.

“I apologize for my man. He’s drunk. My name is Thoros, my lady.” Thoros sat in the now vacant seat across from you.

“I thank you, Ser Thoros. I was worried his smell would bring my dinner back onto my plate.” He chuckled at your sharp tongue. “I am (Y/N) Sn-... Stone.” After recent events, you had to remind yourself that being a Northerner outside of the North was far less safe than being a bastard of anywhere else. Thoros eyes narrowed at you slightly before he smiled politely.

“Well, (Y/N), it is a pity that you’re not a Snow. My men and I have been instructed by our lord to look out for a (Y/N) Snow. My lord is not looking for any Stones, though, so I suppose I shall leave you to your drink.” He stood from the table and started to make his way back to sit with his men.

“Wait!” You turned to stand after him. “Who is your lord?”

—

“Thoros is returning, my lord.” Beric nodded at the soldier before standing from his seat. Resheathing his sword, he walked towards the approaching party. He counted an extra horse, however, and greeted Thoros with a confused look.

“My friend, may I present to you, (Y/N) Snow. Or so she says.” Thoros grinned at his friend teasingly, who gazed up at you with surprise in his eye. You dismounted your horse before approaching him timidly. It was not lost on you that you had disappeared from him, not saying anything about where you were going, and you were worried he would be upset with you, though it would be rightfully.

“Lord Beric,” you murmured before dropping into a curtsey. The man said nothing. Fear crept into your gut as you kept your eyes fixed on the ground in front of you. You were more than surprised, however, when Beric approached you quickly and pulled you into his arms. A small gasp fell from your lips before your own arms wrapped around his neck, face buried in his strong shoulder.

“(Y/N)... I was so worried,” he admitted when he pulled away from you, his hands holding onto your arms gently. Eye flicking around you, he noticed that many of his men were watching the pair of you. “Come. Let us find some privacy.” You nodded in agreement as he lead you to a secluded area of their hideout.

“I’m sorry,” you said as soon as you were alone. “My father was attacked and he wanted me to be safe so I ran. I wanted to say goodbye, truly, but he forbade it and I’m so sorry. Especially after you gave me such a thoughtful gift, I felt most horrible to leave you as I did.” You knew you were rambling but struggled to shut the floodgates as words tumbled from your lips.

Beric did not mind. Instead of letting you continue your rambling, his warm, calloused hand cupped your face before dropping his lips to meet your own. Your eyes shot open in surprise before fluttering closed, returning his soft yet desperate kiss. He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours. “I thought I had scared you away. But your lord father sent me here and he told me everything. He asked me to find you.” Tears welled in your eyes at his words. “I am so sorry for your loss, (Y/N).” His voice was soft as he spoke.

Tears spilled over but his thumbs were quick to wipe them from your cheeks. “I was supposed to go to Riverrun but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Your voice was watery and trembling as you spoke.

“The Lord of Light. He knew we would find you.” You giggled softly, more in surprise than anything. “My lady, I ask that you forgive my boldness again, but I must admit. You have my heart, (Y/N). When you left, I knew I had to find you again. Now you are here. I beg that you stay with me. Let me protect you. Let me love you.”

Your own hand came up to caress his cheek, his head leaning into your palm. “The old gods and the new would have to drag me away from you, Beric.” He smiled at you, sunshine from his grin warming you through. Pulling away from him slightly, you allowed yourself to take in his appearance. His beard had grown out much more, a patch covered his right eye, and a new weariness made him look older than his 21 years. “What’s happened to you?” Your fingers drifted over the patch.

His shoulders shook with a soft chuckle. “I will tell you everything later, my love. But it was all worth it. I have you back, so it was worth it.”

#request #fanfiction #game of thrones #games of thrones fanfic #reader insert #beric dondarrion #beric dondarrion x reader #thoros of myr #eddard stark #jon snow #twin reader #jon snow twin reader #sansa stark #arya stark #septa mordane #jory cassel #jaime lannister #beric x reader

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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The Path of the Bear

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.

The bleating of the ewe drew you from your thoughts. A small smile formed on your lips as she stared at you, annoyed that you were laying in one of her favorite spots. You could not blame her. The hay was a nest, keeping you comfortable. “I can make room for you, but I will not move.”

Scooting over, you grinned and patted the ground next to you, as though she could understand your jest. Instead, the ewe seemed to glare at you before settling down in another little nest on the other side. Shaking your head, you settled back down into your little nest of hay before closing your eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

—

You awoke early, as you have done everyday since you started sleeping in the barn. The workers woke early too, so you needed to leave the barn before any discovered you in your attempts to hold the sheep.

The trek back into the forest was quick, your surroundings becoming easier for you to manuever. Your first stop was the brook that ran through the country side. The cold water helped to pull you from the last of your sleep, waking you completely. You wanted to bathe soon, but you had not followed the brook far enough to find a spot deep enough. Instead, you began to forage for food, checking the traps you had set, smiling to yourself when two of your traps had successfully captured two rabbits. Two was too much to eat for just one meal but it would be just fine if you cooked them both now. Starting a fire later would not be smart, the workers on their way home would be more likely to see it.

—

Night begins to fall, watching from a ridge as workers began to go home. Once they were all gone, you snuck your way into the barn quickly, the final rays of sunlight twinkling through the trees. The sheep and the cows were in their stalls, along with a few new horses. You looked through a crack in the wall towards the hut. There was light coming from the house, but you did not worry. Surely it was just the lord and his wife who lived here.

It was easy to shrug it off as you made your way to a spot towards the back of the barn, where you could watch the doors with ease. As you tore into your rabbit, your mind drifted back to the last days you had with your sister.

You had wept as your elder sister held you, learning that she was leaving soon, and you were not prepared for the separation. Though you were 18 years old at the time, she was the only one who took care of you, loved you. She was always so gentle with you and always understanding. When her gifts came to her, she became your family’s jewel. Your parents preened over her constantly, your mother nurturing your sister’s gift. The work paid off and your sister’s abilities were soon sought after. It was a long time before they were sold. During that time, your sister taught you what she could, more about healing and herbs than seeing. When she did go into the woods to see, you went with her. Silence was kept between you, but you helped her as much as you could.

The last thing she said to you will always ring through your ears. “We will meet again, sweet sister.” She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you cannot marry, not who father chooses. You simply need follow the bear. He will bring you back to me.” You nodded through your sniffles, holding onto her as tightly as you could. Moonlight shone on the two of you, raven hair shimmering beneath it.

Two years later and you still had not found the bear that was meant to lead you. Though you were also not entirely sure how a bear would take you to your sister. Nonetheless, you trusted her sight and would be ready to follow.

The creak of the barndoor snapped you from your reverie. A tall shadow appeared and you cursed, scrambling to a stall. The resting cow looked up at you, lowing as you approached in a crouch. You held your breath, drawing the dagger that you had tied to your waist. “Who’s in here?” A deep voice called, the signature hiss of a sword drawn from its sheath following, “I saw you. Come back out.” You cursed again before swinging out again, taking a low stance with your blade.

The man was much closer than you expected, with a torch sitting in a sconce between you. The flickering light revealed the scarred, though quite handsome, face of a very tall man. “What are you doing here?” His blade was level, though he did not appear to be very worried.

“Sleeping. The sheep make good company.” He scoffed at your answer. “What are you doing here?” You straightened slightly from your stance, trying to relax the tension. It was quite obvious to you that this bear of a man would have no trouble disarming you, let alone killing you. But there was still a chance you could talk your way out of it.

“The same, by invitation of the lord of this farmstead. Don’t think I can say the same for you,” he stated. You answered only with a shrug. “If I put away my blade, you will as well.” It was not a question, but you nodded your agreement anyways. He began to sheath his sword and you rose, putting your own blade away. “Been here long? Seem to know the locals quite well.” He nodded to the barn animals who had returned to their resting.

Another shrug from you. “A few months. They cried when I tried to leave.” He chuckled at that, looking you up and down.

“What’s your name?” You turned to look at the ground where the rest of your rabbit laid, tossed in your panic to hide. A beat of silence as you picked it up, brushing the hay and dirt from it before taking another bite.

“So many questions. I thought Saxons were supposed to be Christians and gentlemen.” You held out the rabbit to him, a peace offering. Despite having already eaten himself, he accepted.

“I’m deciding if I should tell the lord that you are here. He is not happy, and I do not think you would wish to cross paths with him this night.” There was a small twinkle of mirth in his eyes despite the serious sound of his words.

“(Y/N). Of Cornwalum. You?” He raised a brow. A Briton was not something he had expected to see in Liscumb but here you stood.

“Leofric of Wessex. Can’t save I’ve met a Briton before.” He tossed the rabbit back to you before moving to sit in what looked to be a decently comfortable pile of hay. “How’d you get out here?”

You finished the last bit of rabbit before tossing it into one of the back corners of the barn. “I walked, mostly. Ran a little bit. Even got to ride a horse for a while. Though the horse and the running were on the same day.” He chuckled at the mischievous grin on your face. “What is a warrior of Wessex doing sleeping in his lord’s barn?”

Leofric’s eyes followed you as you paced slowly, more out of boredom than nerves. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Here you were, silver-tongued and beautiful, with full hips that were hugged by the pants you wore and alluring eyes that seemed to call to him from the very depths of his soul. For a man like Leofric, you were a sight to feast on. Though a God-fearing man, the ancient and arcane feeling that washed through him when he met your eyes had him questioning. “It’s my lord’s wedding night.” He smirked at you slightly. “I cannot say that I wish to be privy to it.” His eyes flicked back up after their southward expansion when you stopped, sights locking on each other. There was a beat of pregnant pause.

“Then do not worry, Leofric of Wessex. You shall have a silent night to rest.” A twinkle mirroring his own caused the great warrior’s heart to falter a moment. Though not entirely unfamiliar, the stutter was not something he had felt in quite a long time. With a final small smirk gracing your lips, you slipped into one of the nearby stalls where you were met with a small bleat of an ewe. “I told you, they missed me.” A soft chuckle was met to that.

“If you are to hold the sheep for warmth, then whom should I?” His flirtatious words made you grin, though he could not see it.

You responded without missing a beat. “The cow seemed lonely.” He gave another bark of laughter at this, and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out. Laying down, you made yourself cozy in the bed of hay. Snow was falling that night, and a freezing wind blew through the cracks of the barn. A shiver ran through your body as you tucked your knees into your chest, another attempt to keep the warm in. After a while of silence, you were able to finally fall into blissful sleep.

—

Grian emerged from her slumber and the early rays of her light began to illuminate the sky. Your eyes fluttered open with a yawn following quickly. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before rising quietly. Soft snores carried from the other side of the barn, affirming that the man from last night, Leofric, was still in the barn though sound asleep. With a final stretch, you stood and made your way out of the stall. Leofric leaned against the wall in the same place as last night, his head fallen to the side in his slumber. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you looked down at him. Such soft and small noises from a man so big were nothing short of amusing.

Quickly and quietly, you slipped from the barn. The gray dawn of morning held the chill of the long winter night. Soon, you were free, traipsing through the woods as you began your day.

—

It wasn’t long after you left before Leofric woke. In fact, the soft knock of the barndoor closing was what roused him. It took a moment for him to truly wake, but when he did, he shot to his feet. Leofric took a few partially stumbling steps towards the door before yanking it open. To his dismay, you had disappeared before he could call out your name. The slight ache in his heart had nothing to do, he told himself, with the fact that you left before saying goodbye or anything else.

With a sigh, he shut the barndoor again and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for the fog within his head to abate. One breath, two and then he righted himself. She would have been a good hump, he thought to himself almost forlornly. Deciding to give no further thought to it, he exited the barn and started for the hut where he hoped to find something to break his fast.

—

The day passed as any other, Grian warming the sky as much as she could. Her journey across the sky was unmarked yet unchanged, descending the same as it had ascended. As night fell, Leofric thanked Mildreth for the dinner in his hands, ready to make his quick escape to the barn. Pale dusk began to settle outside and, standing in the doorway, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure disappear near the barn. The air in the room was a bit… tense between Mildreth and Uhtred, but not in the way they had been when he yelled at her the day before. This was the tenseness of a wedding night, and Leofric had no intentions to find out if he was right.

“You do not wish to sleep in the house, Leofric?” Mildreth inquired politely.

“No, lady. The sheep will be missing me.” Uhtred snorted with laughter, eying his friend mischeivously.

“Taking extra with you tonight, Leofric?” There was a gleam in Uthred’s gaze that reminded Leofric of why he had wanted to knock a tooth or two out of the arseling’s gleeful smile when they first met. “Worked extra hard today, I hope.”

Leofric glared at the arseling, tilting his head at the playful challenge. “Aye lord, I did. So hard, in fact, that I think I deserve this as well.” The taller man grabbed the horn of ale from Uthred’s hands before taking a long swig. “Well, I’ll bid you good night lady, arseling.” He gave them a curt nod before making his way to the barn.

Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting across from where he had slept. “Missed the sheep?” he questioned teasingly.

“Aye. The one in the back, I’ve decided to call her Veldicca. She has been too great of company for anything else.” You were lying, of course. What you should have done was find somewhere else, gone anywhere else, but you didn’t. You came right back to this barn, and the reason for your return was now sitting across from you.

Leofric chuckled as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. Grabbing one of the extra chunks of bread that he had taken at dinner, he tossed it to you. “Have you been thinking of me, Leofric of Wessex?” A shiver ran down his spine at the teasing tone of your voice.

“Not at all.” Lie. You have haunted my thoughts all day. “I was extra hungry tonight, but I will be a gentleman and share my food with the lovely lady.” He gave you a small wink, which only made you return it with a small smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort when the barndoor opened. Startled, the both of you jumped to your feet, hands flying to the pommels of weapons. “Leofric, I wanted to tell yo-...” Uthred stood in the doorframe, his words faltering mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. A confused and somewhat concerned look graced his features, eyes flicking between you and Leofric. “Who is this?”

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