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He closes his eyes and he thinks. He always thinks. That’s all he has left anymore, just his thoughts. He can’t even remember where he is. He can’t remember what happened. He has no idea how long it has been. A week, a month, a year! Oh a year... He had spent years on a slave ship before Uhtred and then Sihtric saved him. What’s a few years trapped in… wherever he is. He doesn’t know. He can wait until they save him again.
“Finan, stop!” The boy giggles and tries to push his hands away. “Stop… tickling… me!” But Finan doesn’t give up. He tickles Sihtric until the boy can hardly breathe anymore and then he wraps his arms around him and holds him until he squirms away, laughter still in his voice and mismatched eyes.
Finan sighs and opens his eyes. The cell… he’s sure it’s a cell. It’s big. It’s cold. The stone floor is rough against his skin and the cold seeps into him, sinking into his bones. But he’s too tired to realize, too exhausted to even care. He doesn't move. He doesn’t have enough left in him to move.
“You think you can handle me?” Uhtred says, sheathing his sword for a moment. Then he pulls off his shirt in a fluid motion and throws the offending fabric away. Finan doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes travel down the man’s torso to the sharp planes of his hip bones. Uhtred just smiles and pulls his sword back out. He holds her up and his smirk is enough to color Finan's face. “I know you can handle me.”
Finan retches out the vile food they throw him, whoever they are. He can’t keep it down. He tries. He knows he must. If he could just keep himself alive long enough, he knows they will find him. He knows Uhtred will storm every town, city, castle, fortress and the like, he would burn all of England looking for Finan. And Sihtric would be right beside him, his seax in hand and that gaze in his eyes that Finan knew made people cower. He just… needed… to...
Uhtred sits on the floor, leaning back against Finan who sits in the chair behind him. In Uhtred’s lap, Sihtric lays, his head to the side. Uhtred’s fingers work at the thin braid off to the center, pleating the silver adornments once again into his hair. Finan’s hands were in Uhtred’s longer hair, combing his fingers through it and pulling out the tangles gently before he takes the comb to it to braid it. Uhtred leans forward for a moment and Finan stops lest he pull on his Lord’s hair. “I think he’s fallen asleep.” Uhtred says, looking down at the boy in his lap. He smiles and leans back against Finan. “Don’t stop.” He says softly as he closes his eyes. “It feels nice."
Finan opens his eyes. And he thinks. That’s all he does anymore. He just thinks. Until he can't anymore.