ETHNA FAY @libertasutile - Tumblr Blog

Ethna raised her arm for a moment, seeming to titter on the edge of a wave, though thinking better of it, she let her arm fall back to her side. If anyone did catch a glimpse of them, what would it look like, her waving? Her lie would discovered in an instant. Though, what did that really matter?

Eyes on the Dane’s small smile, the Saxon gave a similar one in return, the very notion of smiling to a Dane a rather odd concept. Stranger things could happen, however. Gentle shake of her head in response to his words, she let her gaze drift to the horse in front of Sihtric, though it soon fell back upon him.

“We shall talk here, if that suits you. I hardly think there are any prying ears and eyes with us, bar the sweet horses,” she smiled, giving a gentle stroke with the back of her hand to the horse closest to her. “If needs force it, there are places we may seek to talk in peace. It is hardly dangerous for me — I fear it is dangerous for you. Though, you are well accustomed to protecting yourself, I am certain.”

adsagsona

Sihtric seemed at ease, but he made sure that he kept his eyes on the entrance of the stable and the door behind him was already opened into a small crack so that he could escape at any given moment. "That will suit me just fine." He answered with a nod when Ethna agreed that it would be best to talk here where nobody could hear them speak together.

"I can disappear when I need to, but I'd rather not draw any attention to myself." Sihtric replied gently. Ethna pointed out that he could protect himself if needs be. "I think you know that I'm one of Uhtred's warriors so I'm not going to pretend to be anyone else."

He leaned back a little, seemingly comfortable. "What can you tell me about Aethelwold that isn't common knowledge? He doesn't exactly hide how he feels about the king."

“You have drawn my attention.” Ethna murmured, though understanding of the Dane’s desire to remain overwhelmingly unnoticed. Attention was never truly a positive, not in this place, surrounded by such venomous creatures that England appeared to produce. Whilst the drunken men in the tavern were no real threat to a warrior, Ethna supposed it would be a far more pleasant experience to be left alone.

The Saxon nodded simply in response. There was no need for such a pretence. She knew who he was, even if the depth of her knowledge stopped at his name.

Tongue wetting her dry lips, the woman gave a brief glance over her shoulder. Comfortable with the fact the pair, trio, counting the horse, were quite alone, she gave a nod. Aethelwold. A love and a curse.

“I have seen such intimacies of him and heard such stories, such fantasies that he truly has faith in — it is far more than what you shall already know. I have lain with him and have loved him with such a delusion, God has laughed at me. His disdain for the King is more than merely disdain. It is his reason for being. He spoke of true rebellion. If he does not bury a sword within the King himself, he shall get another to do it for him.”

Apologies for the unplanned absence! Life has been a bitch lately and I’m not feeling too great, but will be back soon! xx

Just a follow up, I’m really not doing great so hiatus for the foreseeable future!

Apologies for the unplanned absence! Life has been a bitch lately and I’m not feeling too great, but will be back soon! xx

Just a follow up, I’m really not doing great so hiatus for the foreseeable! Not that I really have any active plots here 🥴 But still !

#ooc !

Apologies for the unplanned absence! Life has been a bitch lately and I’m not feeling too great, but will be back soon! xx

#ooc !

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

I wouldn’t say I’m drastically opposed myself. Would be the first time I turned a man on.

Yes, the benefits I speak of are more for me than for him. I think. Possibly. Hm.

It’ll be worth it.

Actually, it might make him more prideful.

I think this may be our only option now.

Unfortunately so. Or fortunately so. Depending on how you feel.

… I think it may be … alright. Perhaps more than alright.

Maybe we should be celebrating rather than worrying. We get to fix his stench and probably come out of it with free drinks.

I think you are quite right. Although I will hope for more than free drinks.

I am trying to sound modest but you know my urges.

We can agree on those. But keep it quiet.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

I wouldn’t say I’m drastically opposed myself. Would be the first time I turned a man on.

Yes, the benefits I speak of are more for me than for him. I think. Possibly. Hm.

It’ll be worth it.

Actually, it might make him more prideful.

I think this may be our only option now.

Unfortunately so. Or fortunately so. Depending on how you feel.

… I think it may be … alright. Perhaps more than alright.

Maybe we should be celebrating rather than worrying. We get to fix his stench and probably come out of it with free drinks.

I think you are quite right. Although I will hope for more than free drinks.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

I wouldn’t say I’m drastically opposed myself. Would be the first time I turned a man on.

Yes, the benefits I speak of are more for me than for him. I think. Possibly. Hm.

It’ll be worth it.

Actually, it might make him more prideful.

I think this may be our only option now.

Unfortunately so. Or fortunately so. Depending on how you feel.

… I think it may be … alright. Perhaps more than alright.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

I wouldn’t say I’m drastically opposed myself. Would be the first time I turned a man on.

Yes, the benefits I speak of are more for me than for him. I think. Possibly. Hm.

It’ll be worth it.

Actually, it might make him more prideful.

I think this may be our only option now.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

I wouldn’t say I’m drastically opposed myself. Would be the first time I turned a man on.

Yes, the benefits I speak of are more for me than for him. I think. Possibly. Hm.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

It is a risk that we must take sometimes.

I’d rather not. But — it will have its benefits. Probably.

Ooo you wanna interact with me so bad… you wanna reply to my posts and send me asks… oh you neeeeeed to acknowledge my OC so bad ohhhhh

While Finan’s Kingsguard and Lord Uhtred’s men find themselves preparing for the journey ahead of them in the early hours of the morning, the Irishman finds himself seated in a chair alone in his bedchamber, leant up on his elbow as he ruminates a few solemn thoughts. When a knock on the door arrives, he expects who it is. A lovely woman who often assists him in looking presentable and Kingly to his men lately, something he still hasn’t grown accustomed to.

“Come in,” he drawls, smiling when he sees it’s Ethna.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

Though she’d not been explicitly told there were plans for a journey amongst some of the folk, it was rather obvious, given the amounts of linens she had been tasked to wash. Gently scrubbing ordinary bedclothes, darkened dress shirts and tunics, with some finer clothes she had given more attention, of which she treated with such a gentleness, it was as though the wearer was still amongst them.

Opening Finan’s bedchamber door with a tilted head, Ethna gave a coy smile, offering her arms forward.

“Sweet day, Lord.” Ethna spoke softly, snicker following the rather official note of ‘Lord.’

“I have brought you a freshened bed shirt, with sweet scents of the river and its greenery. I shall bring the rest of freshened clothes before you take your leave.”

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“Thank you, darling. Good day to you,” Finan drawls to her, a sweet smile tinging his features as his dark eyes gaze up to her, a hint of solemness still in his features. He knows he should get up and allow her to adorn him in leathers and such as she usually does to prepare him for a more official approach of his men, but he hesitates.

“We are to travel north to Bebbanburg for the siege upon Lord Uhtred’s rightful lands. You will remain at a camp in safe distance from the fight... That is, if you’re still agreeable to remaining under my service,” Finan smirks up at her.

@libertasutile

Warmed by the sweet smile in return, Ethna gave a small nod, setting the cloth down against a chair, and though she ought to take her own leave, she remained still. The solemnity, even if well masked, was tugging at the Irishman’s features, whether he realised it or not.

“I am willingly beheld in your service, Finan. I shall be there, where I am needed. I would not dream of being elsewhere. I had not realised such a time would come so soon. I sensed you were soon to take leave, though.” She spoke softly, a sympathetic look creeping across her face.

“Are you well?”

@thedarkprinceofulaid

The Irishman nods, even if just to make his lovely fox’s mind settle in ease for him. He had a bout of melancholy every so often, it seemed. He gives her a come hither motion with his fingers, pleased when she takes a seat beside him.

“Your words please me, as does your presence. Thank you,” Finan says, showing her another soft smile.

“… now, are you here to dress me, or undress me?” He teases.

@libertasutile

Setting herself down beside Finan, despite her presence being deeply out of place should she be a handmaiden to anyone else, Ethna chewed at her bottom lip for a moment, considering the prospect of journeying towards Bebbanburg. An overwhelming thought, to say the least, though nonetheless, her destiny to walk amongst these wayward warriors and their dear people.

“I am rather talented at both dressing and undressing.” Ethna replied with a smile, cheeks hot.

“It pleases me to dress you. And it pleases me more, to undress you. I am well suited to the task of handmaiden within your service, don’t you think?”

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“Very well suited indeed, Lady,” Finan drawls with a mischievous grin. He takes her hand from the armrest of her seat, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“May I speak freely?” He asks, and when Ethna nods with that little blush to her cheeks, the Irishman bites his bottom lip.

“I would like for you to go and lock the door,” he nods to the bar near the chamber entrance.

“Then… I would like you to undress for me. How’s that?” He says, his eyes turning a shade darker.

@libertasutile

Ethna bit back an uncharacteristic giggle with Finan’s delicate kiss to her hand. If she’d not enjoyed it so very much, she’d have been tempted to tease him for such chivalry. There wasn’t a need to shower her in such affection. He would always have her heart. She indulged it, however, with a glow to her cheeks.

Eyes slipping back to the chamber entrance, Ethna took no hesitation to return to it, sliding the lock into place. Such a simple action equipped her with some selfishness — for the time the door was locked, she’d not have to share the Irishman.

“I should dream of nothing more pleasant than undressing for you.”

Nimble fingers toying with the laces across her chest, undoing the tightly wound knots and bows, the Saxon drew her breath, easing the last of the knots.

“Perhaps you shall lend me your hand, to pull away the stubbornness?” Ethna whispered, retrieving Finan’s hand, raising it to brush against the edges of her dress.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“Oh, gladly…” Finan rasps out, standing from the chair to come closer. His rough hands follow hers to the last of stubborn laces and firm fabric, taking it from her bosom and shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. The thin, sultry shift she wears underneath it has the Irishman sucking in a breath as his fingertips tease over her breasts.

“It’s been too long, hm?” He drawls softly as he looks tenderly into her eyes, his lips landing upon her neck as his arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

After a few slow, fervent kisses to her neck, Finan rids Ethna of her shift with the soft brush of his fingertips to each shoulder. He takes a moment to throw off his own tunic, pulling her close again so they can be skin to skin when he captures her lips in a kiss.

@libertasutile

One hand flitting between the material of his tunic and his skin underneath, the other pressed to the back of his neck, Ethna revelled in the warmth of the Irishman. He was right, it had been too long.

Delicate lips pressed to the side of his head, she inhaled deeply, his sweet scent as endearing as she had remembered. It felt almost sinful, to wash his clothes and rid them temporarily of such sweetness.

“You have much to attend to,” Ethna whispered, stepping out of the mound that was her dress, shift falling neatly on top of it.

“We shall cast aside those responsibilities. They lie beyond the chamber door. And the door … it is bolted.” She whispered, pressing her lips to his, hand cupping his cheek. “Now you must attend to me.”

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“With honor,” the Irishman snickers, capturing her in another kiss over and over. He fumbles with the laces of his own breeches, pleased when Ethna loosens them for him. Finan grabs her up into his arms with her legs straddling his hips, bestowing her upon the chair he rested in moments before as he kneels in front of her. He spreads her legs with a strong grip to her thighs, nearly groaning at the sight ahead of him.

“God, you’re perfect…” Finan drawls lowly, his fingertips coming down to softly ghost across the tender flesh at her slit, the little bit of wetness gathering in between. The pads of his fingers gently circle her bud as his tongue dives in between her folds to taste it.

“Mm… fuck,” he curses under his breath. “How I’ve missed your sweetness, Lady. Such a pretty little sight…” he says, diving his tongue in once more for an achingly slow lap of it.

@libertasutile

Familiar with the intricacies of the Irishman’s breeches, Ethna swiftly loosened them with a gentle movement, lips not once lifting from his. It would be genuinely painful if she were to have to break away from him, Ethna felt. The only good reason to break away was this.

Soft breaths poured from her parted lips, delight and anticipation filling each one, with one hand settling against her bare chest and the other ghosting the top of Finan’s hair. Soft breaths quickly spread to a gentle moan of relief upon feeling his soft tongue.

“Christ, Finan.” Ethna poured, eyes clenched shut. “I have dreamt of this, every night I fall to my slumber, none has treated me as you,” she whispered, fingers attaching themselves to her breast,

@thedarkprinceofulaid

Finan’s sensual little fox melts for him exactly the way he imagined it. He loves the way she touches herself, the soft breaths that fall from her plush lips, the panted rise and fall of her belly. A thought comes to his mind that he’d share this little beauty with Uhtred eventually, Gods willing…

“You see me in yer dreams, eh? Oh, I’ll make it so. I’ll make it even better,” Finan drawls, letting out a groan. He increases the ministrations of his tongue, wide and slow, until he can feel her swelling for him. The Irishman lingers his tongue on her bud, caressing it slowly with a soft suckling of his lips. The fingers of his hand slowly enter her, finding that tender spot just inside her and putting a soft pressure on it with a tapping motion. When she cries out louder, Finan continues his motions, slowly and tenderly for several minutes until he knows she’s bound to fall apart.

@libertasutile

Since acquainting herself with Finan in Dunholm, many thoughts had occupied her mind, but non quite as sweet as those of the Irishman’s hands upon her skin. Nothing could possibly compare to those thoughts. And with his fingers upon her skin with such a gentleness, she is certain she might break apart, Ethna is certain nothing shall ever compare to his touch.

With a tremendous ache in her stomach, pleasant and exhilarating all at once, Ethna entwined fingertips amongst his hair with a light tug, her eyes clamped shut in ecstasy. He knew exactly how to touch her, with his grip and sweet lips — the thought alone was almost enough to see her come undone. Despite some attempt to stop herself from crying out loudly, in case any prying ears heard such an exclamation, the Saxon simply couldn’t stop herself as the Irishman slipped fingers inside of her.

“Please — ah, Jesus, fuck!” Ethna cried, her cursing coming only a moment before her undoing, hips seeming to buckle in the chair as she reached her high, driven almost to insanity by Finan’s hand.

“You are divine.” She breathed out, hand slipping to his cheek, thumb pressing against his lips.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“And you… are precious,” Finan grins, his dark eyes gazing up to her tenderly before he places a few kisses on her inner thighs.

“I love those little sounds you make for me…Thank you for allowin’ me this with you,” the Irishman drawls lowly with a smile, taking her hand and kissing each pad of her fingertips before interlacing them with his own.

“May I go further?” He asks, with a cock of his eyebrow and a mischievous gaze.

@libertasutile

“Don’t be such a fool, you have no reason whatsoever to thank me. It is you who deserves thanks for showering such sweetness upon me. It is you who shall be thanked, always.” Ethna whispered, taking her other hand to affectionately caress his cheek with a smile. Little kisses to her fingertips, she gave a light chuckle, contented with such affection from him the Irishman.

“Oh, of course, sweet Finan. I am most eager. Perhaps I shall undo you, as you have me.” Ethna murmured, head tilted down towards his, devious smirk upon her lips with a bright, burning blush.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“Undo me, hm?” Finan hums, coming closer and bending forward to give her a slow, sensual kiss. He can’t stop touching her as his calloused hands caress her thighs, the hunger evident in his kiss.

“Oh, I’d let ya…” he grins, nuzzling their noses together.

“Tell me. How do you plan to undo me, little fox?”

@libertasutile

Coy grin, Ethna pressed her lips against his with an equal hunger, teasing with a premature breaking of the contact even though she was certain she felt physical pain at such a thing. She wanted to keep her lips on his for as long as possible and drink him in, but she had promised an undoing.

“I shall undo you entirely.” She whispered, blue eyes on his dark, with her lips barely above his skin. A delicate kiss placed against his lips once more, she set a hand against his bare chest, with the other hand entangled within his fingers.

“I cannot tell you. I will simply show you.” Ethna purred, dragging herself from the chair, with weakened legs and a pleasantly aching core.

@thedarkprinceofulaid

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

I can hold him down and you can drench him in the olive oil. It may be the only way to free us from this burden.

I fear he will find it erotic.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

You see, the worst part is not the nostrils. I cannot smell from my nose. It is my tongue that allows me smell. And my tongue has been burnt by such foul odors, I can only beg the gods for a short break.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven above, we simply have got to force that man to bathe in a river with flowers and whatnot. Your tongue. Oh, Christ. Good Lord.

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.

Aspis, I am so very close to laughing until I weep.

It isn’t that he is unclean .. per se. He is just … well acquainted with the shite of animals. Oh, bless his poor little soul. One day he will learn.

I know he is, I can smell it. He is deeply bonded with horse manure, to a degree it is very concerning. I hope, for his sake, the punishments for his drinking are changed to something less pungent.

For once, I will pray for him.

For his sake, and ours, truthfully. Scent is not only observed by him but also those who are sometimes in close proximity. Sometimes. Things must be harsh on the nostrils for you to pray, I can hardly imagine it!

ETHNA!!! ΓΕΙΑ!

Aspis, my sweet little friend !

Ναι, I’m.. here now. I suppose

Are you quite well, dear one ?

I think so. The sun is out still. Haven’t broken a single harp string in two weeks. And, I’ve found an absolutely lovely chunk of granite to haul back to my cave.

Such a sweet little one you are. It sounds like quite the nice day! The sunshine really is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve washed lots of linen today, and it’s dried really very well. Not quite as interesting of a day as yours, admittedly.

Oh, but you can thank your God that humans don’t wash linens like they used to in Greece and Rome. Smells much nicer using water and a washboard than dunking your clothing in a vat of urine.

People smelled… horrible

Oh … dear me. I think I will give thanks to the Lord for rivers and streams, then. And for flowers, to bring in such a sweet scent. I can’t quite fathom … that as a way of washing linens. Though it hardly surprises me — there are some even in Wessex who smell so horribly, I would suppose they wash in that way. Aethelwold for one.

It is a surprisingly effective stain remover. As if that changes how disgusting it was.

Aethelwold has reason to smell so rancid. Being thrown in the pig pens when blackout drunk doesn’t give you much time to bathe.

I shall take your word for it. I have no real desire to find any out for myself … I’ll keep my stains and smelling of flowers, instead.

I suppose you are correct about that. Do you suppose he knows he sometimes smells or lives in obliviousness?

I would not blame you for lacking curiosity.

I think a man like him can justify his own stench as a sign of his masculine prowess. He lacks much else to prove it, the poor, sweet thing.

Masculine prowess? That is one of the most amusing things I have heard all day long! The poor fellow. Someone ought to suggest bathing as a sign of masculinity.

The most masculine he has felt is likely beside me. Giving him someone to be taller than.

One day, someone may walk up to him and finally explain that cleanliness is closer to godliness—or whatever the Christians say. I do not understand why you need God to convince you to bathe, however.