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A/N: Another request ! Long this time ! It took me days to find a story but almost a night to write it lmao. So this is mostly fluff and little angst hehe.
The Fire in the Heart || Finan x Reader
The loud scream of Ragnar made you shivered. Sat against the wall of one of Dunholm's houses, hands on your injured arm, blood streaming between your fingers, you closed your eyes. Finally, Kjartan was dead. Years you wondered what you'd feel the day the man you had pledged your sword to would die. And now, you knew.
You felt nothing. You despised Kjartan. You were pledged to him only because your father was loyal to him.
You couldn't help but smile through the pain. You were free now. You could go wherever you wanted. The idea was pleasant. You wanted to leave right now, see more of the world. Fight for other earls, for new lands. You were a shieldmaiden. Fighting was what made you feel alive. Every time you gripped the handle of your sword, it started a fire in your chest.
The idea of travelling somewhere far from here overwhelmed your mind. You could see the sea and the boats ready to leave. The smell of salt water tickled your nose and the feel of sand under your feet made you forget the pain of your arm. You started to run to the boats, screaming them to wait for you. But you didn't even have the time to reach the water that a hand on your shoulder woke you up.
You slowly opened your eyes again, narrowing them, blinded by the sun. And suddenly the sunlight faded and you met two brown eyes. You couldn't look away from them, they were hypnotizing. But mostly, and strangely, they were lightening a fire in your heart.
"Are ya all right?"
You blinked several times, finally staring at the whole face just in front of you. It was a man, around your age but his skin was damaged and marked by scars still healing, making him look older. His hair, dark and thick, was attached and a beard was covering his jaw.
The pain of the deep cut on your arm started to resonate in all your body again and your face writhed. The man looked down to your wound, concerned. The blood had started to dry causing the bleeding to moderate. His fingers grazed your arm and you squealed, muscles contracting in reaction of the touch.
"Ya need to fix tha'." He muttered, frowning. He stood up and lent his hand to help you.
You hesitated a moment. He wasn't one of Kjartan's men, what could keep him from killing you? Seeing your wary, he smiled.
"The fight is over, I won't kill ya." He narrowed your eyes, studying him. He was thin for a warrior, but his arms were strong and his shoulders broad. "I promise." He added.
You sighed and caught his hand. He lifted you, not too harshly, and he guided your hand so your uninjured arm was around his shoulders. You wanted to complain that you could still walk, but when you made a step, your head started to spin because the amount of blood you lost. You relied on him and he led you to the Great Hall of Dunholm.
