Chapter Text
Soon winter would turn into spring once more and the first flowers would break through the thin blanket of snow that covered the lands.
It was the neverending circle of life. All would die before it would live again.
One day, the wolf would swallow the moon and the world would end so that from its ashes a new world could be born.
Sihtric smiled fondly as he remembered the tales of his childhood, small glimpses of sun-bright happiness despite how dark his life had been then.
He drew his fur coat tighter around his shoulders when he felt the cold nip at his pale skin and a comforting warmth spread throughout his body, so different from the warmth of the sun.
Finan had gifted him the coat after they had returned to Eoferwic two months ago and Sihtric treated it like his most priced possession, perhaps it was. He owned little.
It was soft and warm, a dark gray that reminded him of the heavy clouds before a thunderstorm. Those had always brought him comfort just like Finan did now.
Sihtric sighed softly, moving from where he sat on the floor to place more wood into the fire and chase away the chill before it could take hold in the house.
He watched as the flames engulfed the wood for a while before returning his attention to the small figurine he was carving. It was a horse with a long mane and tail, a creature from one of Finan's many fantastical tales.
Often times, when sleep avoided Sihtric in the wake of another nightmare, they would sit in front of the fire together and Finan would tell him of fairies and banshees, of leprechauns and witches and Sihtric would listen until sleep took him once again.
Kelpie, the horse-like creature he was carving at the moment, was one of Sihtric's favorite creatures.
They lured people in with their beauty but when some poor soul decided to climb on their back to try and tame these majestic creatures, they would drown and eat them, leaving only the heart and liver of their victims behind.
Sihtric admired rather then feared them and perhaps in some ways he even aspired to be like them. He too wanted to kill whoever dared to try and take his freedom away from him again.
His train of thought was interrupted when Finan entered the house, carrying a few extra furs and a cloth wrapped around what Sihtric assumed to be food. The Dane smiled a little at the other man as a way of greeting, finishing his carving before joining him at the small table in the middle of the room.
"You should thank me. I knocked out a man to get you this", Finan joked, handing him an apple. The younger man smiled a bit more, taking a bite as Finan placed half a loaf of bread in front of him.
"Uhtred fears we will run out of food before spring comes", Finan informed him off-handedly, taking a seat on the bench across from Sihtric, "he wants us to try hunting tomorrow."
Sihtric nodded a little.
It was unlikely that they would catch anything during this cold and dark season but the harvest had been meager this year due to Guhtred's lack of experience when it came to being a king and making worthy alliances, so they would have to at least try.
"Will they visit tonight?", Sihtric asked, pouring himself a cup of ale and filling Finan's as well when the Irishman held it out to him.
Even though his throat was healed again and speaking no longer caused him discomfort, Sihtric usually preferred to say very little. It was simply a habit, albeit one that Finan seemed determined to break.
He'd often ask him questions that required a more complex answer than just the shaking or nodding of his head or he'd ask him to tell stories of his gods in exchange for his own tales.
To his own surprise, Sihtric found that he didn't mind much and obliged more often than not.
He enjoyed talking to Finan, even if it was just about meaningless things such as the weather, because the older man respected him in a way that was new to him.
He let him talk without interrupting him, even waited when Sihtric had trouble finding the right word in English, which happened more often than he would like to admit to himself.
He always listened to him patiently and when their friends joined them for a few drinks, the Irishman made sure he was heard and not ignored or talked over as he had been for most of his life.
But more than that, Finan respected when Sihtric did not wish to say anything. Sometimes he would dodge the Irishman’s questions and the latter would not ask again, resorting instead to something that more resembled a monologue until Sihtric was ready to speak again.
"No, not tonight. Clapa and Rypere have to man the walls and Uhtred will drink with his brother and the other Danes. He asked if we wanted to join them.", Finan replied, once he had emptied at least half of his cup in one swing.
Sihtric smiled a bit as he remembered the last few times they had joined his fellow Danes.
Finan always insisted on tagging along and the younger was grateful for that, especially in the early days after his capture, where he had rarely felt safe around other men. He still did not feel entirely at peace but it was manageable now.
The Irishman did speak danish but not the fast and slurred danish of a table full of drunk Danes all conversing with one another in various stages of volume. It wasn't hard to tell that he mainly joined them so Sihtric would feel safe, knowing that someone he could trust was around.
He trusted Uhtred too, of course, and even Ragnar and Brida to a certain extent but they didn't understand him the way Finan did. He doubted that anyone did or even could. Finan had stood by his side through some of his darkest days, not leaving his side even when Sihtric’s nightmares kept him from sleeping and the shadows in his mind made him doubt the older ceaselessly.
"No...not tonight" Sihtric decided, glancing over at the small horse figurine he had made. Finan followed his look, smiling when he recognized what it was.
"Kelpie?" He asked, going to pick it up from where it had been left on the floor. He neither questioned nor argued the young Dane’s choice.
Sihtric hummed in agreement, feeling slightly embarrassed when Finan inspected it thorougly. He must have messed it up somewhere.
But Finan brought it back over to the table, setting it down between the two of them as if it were a bouquet full of beautiful flowers.
"You have a lot of talent. It's beautiful" he told him and despite the doubt that still haunted him, the statement seemed to hold no lie. Sihtric couldn't help the small sigh of relief that escaped him, finally smiling as well.
"Almost as beautiful is you."
Sihtric froze for a moment, convinced that he had misheard what Finan had just said. Maybe he had just translated it the wrong way. He would need to practice more.
"What?"
"Nothing. Forget about it."
Finan shook his head a little, rising from the bench again before grabbing his coat.
"I'll get us some more firewood. I'll be back in a bit."
Sihtric hummed, picking up the wodden horse again. Surely he had just imagined the compliment.
He had been complimented on his looks before, by both men and women in fact, but usually they did so only with bad intentions. Often times they said it while touching him in places that made him uncomfortable or in a mocking tone that made everyone present in the room with them smirk strangely.
In the end they'd take him to their bed whether he wanted it or not.
His captors had said it too. He had heard them say it to one another one night, when he had been bound and completely at their mercy. It still made his skin crawl.
The memory hit him so suddenly that he gasped, almost sure he could feel their dirty hands on his skin again. He shivered and before he could ask Finan to stay, before he could beg not to be left alone with his thoughts, he felt the Irishman's strong arms around him, grounding him.
They were so different from the ghosts of the past, warm and gentle as the sunlight on the first day of spring. Their touch thawed the icy fear cursing through his veins.
He gripped onto the other man tightly, feeling as though he was drowning in the memories and Finan was a rock standing stout against the currents.
"Breathe" it was a simple enough command, one he tried- he really tried as he always tried to be better, to be worthy, to be whole -to follow but no matter how much he struggled, he still felt like he was suffocating, as though there was no more air left in the room for him to breathe.
But Finan was there still, holding him close, keeping him safe. He would not let the waves take him. Sihtric tried once more to focus on his voice, to make out the words and after a while, after what felt like eternity, his head slowly started to clear.
"I'm here" Finan mumbled, having switched to Danish at some point as it seemed to have a more calming effect on the younger.
Sihtric felt tired suddenly, all his strength sapped by the inky waters. He rested his head in the crook of Finan's neck as the older man gently wiped his tears away.
They didn't speak about what had happened. The Irishman would breathe no word over it until Sihtric was ready to come to him for help. No matter who that would be.
Instead Finan picked him up, carrying him over to where the fire still danced, warm and inviting, ready to chase away the remaining chill in his blood.
The Dane stayed where he was, tucked safely against a strong chest, hiding away from the world as Finan told him tales of mythical creatures, of fairies and banshees, of leprechauns and witches and everything else that roamed the green fields of Ireland.
Those stories brought the Dane comfort, despite how dark and gruesome some of them were.
They were glimpses into another world, far from the one that had brought Sihtric so much pain.
And it was Finan telling them to him, the man he trusted more than anyone else.
Beyond it all it was glimpses into Finan’s life, his upbringing, his homeland and that the Irishman would share them with him of all people made his aching heart swell with pride.