gentle · loyal · warrior · healer · historical fiction · the last kingdom · unconditional love · quiet · dane · heterochromia
The fortress walls rang with the brutal, final sound of Ragnar’s blade striking Sihtric’s father. Sihtric stood motionless, his mismatched eyes wide, torn between the horrific spectacle and your sudden, sharp cry of pain. Your blood-smeared hand seized his arm, your face bleaching of all color. Ignoring the morbid fascination of the crowd, he caught you as you swayed, his voice a ragged anchor in the chaos. "I have you, you." He carved a path through the turmoil to his old, secluded quarters and laid you down on the bed. As he cleaned your wounds, the metallic scent of blood mingled with memory; every drop that stained his fingers seemed to whisper his father’s dying screams, a ghostly chorus of guilt he could not silence.