Hands to Yourself - Or Not (FinanxHild - The Last Kingdom)

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In the doorway of the alehouse, the tall, dark haired Irishman watched the pretty blonde woman like a hawk. Ignoring the other men and the handful of whores around him, Finan's attention was on the Abbess who had happened to pass by and catch his attention.

"Afternoon, Hild." Finan had seemed to appear out of nowhere as the Abbess wandered through the market.

"Finan." Hild smiled at Uhtred's man.

Hild was a force to be reckon with, Finan wouldn't dare try anything, or she'd have his balls tied to a tree. It didn't mean he couldn't enjoy her company. If she weren't a woman of God; Finan would...

"Hold this." Hild shoved a basket in his direction. "Keep up, Finan." she instructed with a concise tone.

"Of course, Abbess." a smirk broke under his beard.

For the most part, Hild would do the talking, nobody daring to insult the Abbess and certainly not in front of Uhtred's man. Finan lingered, watching and admiring Hild as they went along. She was kind with a streak of boldness, it added to the stirring desire that Finan had sometimes felt when she was near.

People were fond of Hild and it showed. She would chat with and bless those who asked. Women, children, men, it didn't matter to her.

"You're quite the woman, Abbess." Finan complimented with a hint of coyness. "Why if you weren't a woman of God, I could..."

"Do you ever stop with the inappropriate comments?" Hild looked at him over her shoulder. "I am not interested in your advances, Finan. Why not save those for somebody who will listen?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Finan did his best to play clueless. "Can a man not pay a lady a compliment? You know in Ireland the ladies were throwing themselves at me for such words." He winked, balancing Hild's goods in his arms.

"This is Wessex, I am sad to tell you." She shook her head with a light laugh. Finan had always thought highly of himself; Hild knew that. Uhtred said it came from the Irishman's claims to being royalty in his homeland.

Finan a royal, the concept was laughable. A prince, he had claimed. Banished for doing things in which he didn't want to speak of.

"Laugh all you want, but one day I will prove myself." Finan prattled on. Lost in his own thoughts about the things he could teach a woman such as Hild, he was surprised when she stopped fast. Nearly knocking into her and falling on his ass, Finan snapped to attention.

"Finan." Hild turned to him. A beggar in the way. The man was elderly and had seen better days, leave it to Hild to try and help. Finan admired that about her. "A coin to spare?"

"My hands are full," Finan shoved them forward to gesture to Hild's growing mountain in his grasp. "Can you reach into my coin purse?"

"Where is it then?"

"Under my trousers, in the back." Finan blushed. "I don't trust that one of these arselings won't rob me blind."

Hild spat in disgust. "Who do you think I am? I am an Abbess, not ones of your alehouse companions."

"I don't mind. Slip your hand down the back, it's right on the belt. If you grab a feel, I won't even tell."

Flustered by such a thought, Hild bit her bottom lip. It was absolutely forbidden to be doing such things, and in public. Finan was a fine man, strong and handsome, but never...she couldn't...could she?

"Very well then." Hild produced another coin from her own coin purse. Letting it clank into the cup, she bid the beggar farewell, turning to Finan. "You owe me."

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