Chapter Text
It was early in the morning, the sun had just risen when Finan woke. Every part of his body was aching, his muscles sore from rowing near constantly for the past week, his eyes burning from the harsh saltwater that had left behind rashes all over his body and the wounds on his back, where the whips had left behind their marks, were bleeding again.
He could hear the seagulls above, could hear the waves hitting the rump of the ship gently and for a moment he was reminded of green fields and grey skies, the cold wind hitting his skin as he looked down at the wild sea bellow. He was reminded of home.
Finan looked up at the sky thoughtfully, millions of stars shining bright against the endless black. He could hear Clapa's soft snoring where the Dane slept by the crackling fire not far away and it brought a small smile to his lips. He couldn't find sleep that night but he was no longer restless and tormented by nightmares.
Sihtric was sleeping close to the fire where Finan could see him from the spot he had chosen for himself. He had gone to sleep after Clapa had coaxed him into eating a piece of the deer he had found injured earlier.
But this place wasn't home. This was Trader, a slave ship. It was purgatory or hell, Finan was sure of it.
Vicious storms had kept them awake throughout most of the nights, the screams of the other men burned into his mind the way the slave mark was burnt into his shoulder.
They had rowed and bailed until the stars and the moon fell, giving way for the sun to take their place in the sky, men had cried while others had prayed, some had done both.
For what they had prayed, Finan wasn't sure. This was hardly a life worth living.
Many of the men were Christian, most of them Saxon, two Scots.
There had been another Irishmen, a friend in the life he had been forced to leave behind when he had been made a slave, but he had lost his life to the whips of the slavers.
They would reach Eoferwic within the next to days. There they would rest and Sihtric would recover fully before Finan would make good on his promise to train him. He would put aside his own desires and he would wait until they were both ready.
One
night Sverri had chosen Finan in an attempt to break what was left of the man's spirit.
He hardly remembered anything other than the pain when he tried to piece together what had happened, other than that his mind was blank.
It was one of the Scots that checked on him. Allistor, Finan had heard them call
him.
He was a tall man, maybe ten years older than him, with long, red hair and scarred skin. Finan had seen him look after the other slaves when Sherri and his men weren't looking as much as he could at least.
They were almost always shackled, to keep them from drowning themselves so the only time they could move about was when Sverri left the ship with his men, to buy goods he could trade the next time they harbored somewhere. Then they would be left in the hull until Sverri returned and they were made to row again.
Finan must have dozed off for a while or he had been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard him coming but when he opened his eyes again, Sihtric stood in front of him, his fur coat wrapped around his shoulders. He was seeking comfort and Finan offered it to him silently.
Allistor was sitting on the bench across from him, his dark eyes assessing Finan as he shivered despite the heat of the sun burning down upon them.
Sverri was gone now, drinking with his slavers yet he was ever present in Finan's mind.
Finan had remained motionless even though he felt sick. He felt dirty, used and the look the older man gave him made him want to hide away for the rest of his life.
"You were a warrior once, weren't you?", Allistor spoke suddenly, his voice strangely calming and grounding. Finan found himself nodding before he could stop himself.
"I could tell from the way you hold yourself", he continued, offering Finan a piece of stale bread but he didn't feel like eating, shaking his head silently. He wanted to starve, to move on to the next life now that every chance of returning to his past life was gone. He would never be able to face his wife again.
Sihtric nodded, his breath hitching as the trembling grew worse.
"Don't let them hurt me", he whispered, closing his eyes tightly as Finan tried to shush him. The older man wished he could've stopped them from lying their hands on the Dane.
"You are safe now. I'm here"
"You are a fighter. Sverri won't change that. He might have taken your swords away as well as your armor but he can't take away what is inside your heart. He cannot change who you are unless you let him." Allistor continued, moving closer to Finan.
"Let me help you see"
The Irishman didn't find it in himself to argue with the older man, allowing him to sit down next to him. All I st or reached for Finan's hair, which fell just over his shoulders at this point, then started to brush through it gently. The younger couldn't help but flinch when he felt a touch on his skin but he settled quickly, letting Alister continue.
"What do they call you?" He asked at one point, seeming to notice that Finan's mind was wandering back to what had happened or at least it was trying to.
"Finan", he replied quietly, not adding his title as he felt like he did not longer deserve it.
It was easy to forget how young Sihtric truly was. His arms were strong as those of a warrior from years of working and Finan had realized that while there were only two scars on his face, his back and chest were covered in them. So much suffering, more than most men had to endure their entire life.
But now that the boy was asleep again, comforted by the thought that there was someone there with him, someone that would protect him from the horrors that lurked in the dark and filled his nightmares, he grieved for the youth Sihtric had never had.
Before they had first set out on their journey to find Sihtric, Finan had been planing on taking the young man to his bed but now even that thought alone seemed ridiculous.
Sihtric needed someone that would be loyal to him as he was loyal to Uhtred. Someone who would be there to hold him when his memories returned to haunt him and who respected him as an individual, not viewing him as a some servant or slave.
Finan wanted to be that someone.
He wanted to help Sihtric heal and watch him grow into the warrior he was meant to be so that no one would ever dare to hurt him again.
Allistor was gentle as he started braiding his hair in a style that Finan recognized to be Celtic. Braids he had seen warriors wear back in Ireland.
"This ship makes you forget who you were, who you are, where you come from. So you need to be reminded", the Scott explained, "we might come from different countries but we have the same ancestors. Feared and respected warriors. Their blood flows in your veins as it does in mine."
It was a small gesture. It even seemed meaningless because Finan would never be free again. He would never again be able to honor the blood of his ancestors for his blood was tainted now.
But as Allistor's skilled hands wove more and more of these complex pattern into his hair, he felt a change deep within himself.
It was like a flame burning deep inside his heart and soul. He had thought that Sverri had put it out but it was still there, smaller and duller but he knew it would grow again.
It would grow and it would spread as he would give it to others, slaves like him that just needed a little spark of hope to believe again, that was what he promised Allistor as they returned his corpse to the sea.
He would never let Sverri win. He was Finan the Agile, a warrior, and one day he would be free again and he would kill the bastard that had tried to break him.
Finan was gentle when he woke Sihtric from his nightmare, not letting go of him as he gasped and cried, only very slowly returning to the present. The older man shushed him until he was calm again, finally resting against him once more.
"Come with me", Finan mumbled, quietly as to not wake their friends, before he stood, helping Sihtric onto his feet as well.
The boy breathed through the pain it caused him to move, looking confused as Finan lead him through the trees, to the small stream he had found earlier. There he sat down, waiting for Sihtric to do the same.
"I don't know what they did to you but I can see the signs", he started, noticing how Sihtric lowered his eyes.
"They tried to break you, to make you feel weak"
Finan still struggled a bit with his Danish, the words just not sounding quite right to him as he spoke them. He hoped that the younger would understand him nonetheless.
He knew that Sihtric understood and spoke English quite well but he had grown up speaking Danish and he was a Dane too. It was important that he reminded him of that.
"You are not weak", Finan spoke in Danish this time, testing the waters. Sihtric reacted immediately, a surprised look on his young face as he looked up to meet Finan's eyes.
"You are a warrior and you are stronger than any man I know", he continued, reaching for Sihtric's wrist tenderly. The Dane let him take it, still too stunned to think twice about it.
Finan gently ran his fingers along the marks the ropes had left behind, noticing Sihtric flinch slightly.
"They knew that too. That's why they tied you down."
The Irishman let go of his wrist, ripping a piece of fabric from his own tunic before dipping it into the water.
He felt Sihtric's eyes on him as he wrung it out, bringing it up to the other's face slowly.
The Dane didn't move away as he used it to clean his face from blood and dirt.
"They knew that you were too strong so they wanted you to feel weak. You choose whether or not to believe them."
Sverri laughed when he saw the braids in Finan's dirty hair. He insulted him and had one of his men whip him for it but the Irishman stood his ground, didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him weak.
Sverri took him again that night but he couldn't break him anymore and even when he cut off the braids with his knife the flame remained burning inside Finan's heart.
It couldn't keep him safe from the memories that haunted him as the nights grew longer and sometimes, when the days grew equally as dark, Finan feared it had gone out again but it never did, burning brighter and brighter until it burned like the midsummer fires when he finally drove his sword into Sverri's throat.
Sihtric hadn't taken his eyes off him even once and when Finan looked close enough, for a split second he thought he could see a spark there, rising from the embers that Sihtric's own flame had left behind.
"I will not lie to you. Fighting won't always be easy", he continued, wiping the last of the blood from his face, "but if you choose to pick up your sword then I will be there to be your shield."
Sihtric smiled a bit and Finan feared for a moment that he had messed up and said something ridiculous but the Dane didn't laugh at him he just whispered his thanks then leaned his head forward slightly, looking down again.
Finan used that to put their foreheads together, his hand coming to rest on the back of Sihtric's neck.
"That is my oath to you."