the last kingdom ♡ oneshots

stand by me | osferth x m!reader

Sihtric had promised to come back for you when he left Dunholm all those months ago. As time passed, you began to grow less and less sure of the fact, resigning yourself to a life spent fighting for those who had wronged both you and your brother. Training was relentless, the rewards underwhelming, and the taunts from one-eyed Sven merciless.

You hated your life, wondering why the gods had been so cruel as to give you such a fate.

Sihtric was not a blood relative of yours, although you had much in common. You were a small child when you were enslaved alongside your mother, the only reason for your survival being your potential as a warrior in the future. She died of the sickness only two years after, leaving you alone. Being several years older, Sihtric had taken over the responsibility of caring for you and tried many times to protect you from Kjartan, often bearing the brunt of the violence instead.

Despite this, he never once blamed you, never once took his anger out on you. He was the only security you had and you loved him as a brother, so to watch him leave both broke your heart and terrified you.

Now that you were a teenager, you had to fend for yourself.

You were in the hall one morning when Sven stormed in with the news that Uhtred and Ragnar Ragnarson were in Northumbria and would surely attack. Although Kjartan was flippant, you had a feeling things would not go to plan. He ordered Sven to inform Thyra not to feed her wild hounds and, out of curiosity, you slipped out at once, following him down to the cells.

Having never before dared to venture down to where the “wild” daughter of Ragnar was being held, it was only then that you saw for yourself just how terrified Sven was of her - and listening to his voice tremble as he relayed the message made you smirk.
Her hounds barked as she screamed at him to get out, and you pressed your back against the wall as he did just that. As soon as he left, you let yourself become visible.

Unsurprisingly, Thyra gave you a suspicious look.

“Are you another son of Kjartan?” she asked.

You shook your head, fidgeting with your sleeve. “No. I am Y/N. The son of a slave.”

“Why are you here?”

You had to be honest. “I heard that Sven was scared of you. I wanted to see if it was true.”

Thyra weakly huffed what you thought could be a laugh, and your shoulders sagged a little in relief.

“I think they’ll be successful, you know,” you continued quietly. “Uhtred and Ragnar. Kjartan says this fortress is impenetrable but I have heard your brothers are wily.”

“I have no brothers,” she repeated in a low voice.

Your hands clasped the bars of her cell. “I’m sorry. I understand.”

She gave you a strange look. “Do you?”

“I miss my brother,” you admitted.
“Sihtric.”

At the mention of his name, her face softened. “Oh, yes. I remember him. He is kind.”

You sighed. “He was like a mother and a father to me. He took as many of my beatings as he could.”

“Beatings?”

“We are seen as bastards,” you smiled sadly. “Kjartan does not care for us. Sven tormented us. But when Sihtric left, he said he would be back for me.”

Thyra bitterly laughed. “I have heard that one before.”

At once, you became defensive, although you were unsure how much weight your words carried. “He will, I know he will!”