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"Niflheim" - Orpheus!Osferth x Eurydice!Reader
a/n: request from @ultraintrovertedgryffindor for orpheus!osferth combined with a request from @connorsui for osferth x childhood friend/princess reader ❤️
Summary: Osferth and you are childhood sweethearts, torn away from each other by circumstance. But this time, Osferth takes fate into his own hands.
Word Count: 5,205
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, character death, mentions of severe illness, p in v sex, fingering, breeding kink
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Last Kingdom characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
You and Osferth were never meant to meet. He is the bastard son of a king, his father’s secret shame, sent away to become a monk in Mercia. You, on the other hand, are a princess, the daughter of King Æthelwulf and younger sister of Prince Æthelred. The monastery’s gardens border those of the castle’s, however, and one day Osferth hears the sweetest voice, singing a little tune. Six years old at the time, he follows the voice, curious as to what he will find.
“Lavender’s green, dilly dilly, lavender’s blue. You must love me, dilly dilly, for I love you.”
Osferth approaches you hesitantly, blue eyes wide with wonder as he listens to you sing, captivated by your voice and presence. You hear a twig snap and jump up, grabbing the wooden sword by your side, waving it in front of you. You seem to be around his age, he thinks, an inch or two shorter than him at most. He is slightly frightened by the sudden movement of your sword, your demand to know who’s there, but he realizes by the little crown on your head that you are the princess. He bows quickly, giving you a shy smile.
You frown at the strange boy, crossing your arms expectantly, “Why are you doing that? And why are you wearing those robes?”
He clears his throat nervously before speaking, “My name is Osferth. I… This is the uniform of my order of monks.”
Osferth feels rather self-conscious as you eye him up and down before you shake your head and declare, “You’re a little boy. You can’t be a monk. They’re all old and fat.’
He is surprised by your words but quickly explains, “Oh, well I am only a monk in name. Really, I work for the older monks. Carrying heavy things, preparing things.”
“Oh,” you say, eyes going wide in recognition, “I suppose I am only a princess in name. My brother gets to do all the fun things.”
Osferth chuckles slightly at your response, taking a seat beside you on the bench when you pat the spot next to you, “What kind of fun things do you want to do that you are not allowed?”
“I want to ride my horse and fight Danes,” you state boldly, without any hesitation.
Osferth looks at you intently, impressed by your spirit, “You sound like a warrior! Have you ridden a horse already?”
“No,” you frown sadly, the sight making his chest ache for some reason not quite yet known to him, “They say I am too small. Have you, Osferth?”
He nods proudly, puffing out his chest in an effort to impress you, “Yes, I have indeed, Princess. It is an incredible feeling, sitting up there.”
“Wow,” you breathe, gazing at him starry-eyed, Osferth’s cheeks flushing at the way you look at him, “That is amazing! A warrior monk!”
He shakes his head, grinning and scratching the back of his neck, “I suppose being a little brave is necessary to defend God’s kingdom.”
You nod before asking him, “How old are you?”
“I am nearly seven,” he tells you happily, eyeing the doll and wooden sword you clutch to your chest, “How old are you?”
“I am six and a half,” you say proudly, “My brother is the prince of Mercia and one day he will be king,” you pause before adding, knitting your brows together, “But not today, because Papa is still alive.”
Osferth stares at you in awe. Your life is so different to his. You are so much more important than him, one of the most important people in the country, and you are not even seven years old. He smiles at the doll you hold to your chest, pointing toward it.
“And what is your doll’s name, my lady? Is she a princess as well?”
You shake your head vehemently, “Absolutely not! She is a knight!”
Osferth smirks slightly before laughing, “I apologize. I did not mean to assume. Can I ask her name? If she is a knight, surely she must have an impressive name.”
“Her name is Lagertha,” you inform him, hugging the doll tightly.
He smiles at you, finding you entirely fascinating, “And your sword? Who is that for?”
“Me! Who else would it be for?”
Osferth laughs again under his breath, “But who are you going to fight, Lady?”
“Everyone!”
He stares at you with amused surprise, “Everyone, you say? That is a lot of work. What if someone manages to take your sword away from you? What will you do then?”
“Then I’ll use my hands!”
Osferth grins as you ball your hands into fists, punching the air. You are a very determined and brave girl, with great confidence in yourself. He watches as you calm yourself and sit down, telling him your name.
“I do not have many friends,” you say sadly, looking up at him with your sweet, innocent eyes.
His heart breaks for you, how lonely you must be, just as he is, “I am sorry, Princess. Would you like me to be your friend?”
He is taken by surprise when you throw your arms around him and embrace him, tackling him to the ground in your enthusiasm, “You are my best friend now, alright?”
Osferth hugs you back just as tightly and nods, “You are my best friend too, Princess.”
The two of you grow up together, growing closer and closer as the years go by. When you are both twelve years old, on an afternoon like any other, you go to have your lunch with Osferth in the gardens. You turn to him, a curious expression on your face.
“Osferth? Can I ask you something?”
He looks at you, nodding, “Of course. Anything.”
You glance around, making sure you two are completely alone before whispering, “Is King Alfred your father? Æthelred told me as much but I wanted to know the truth from you.”
Osferth is caught off guard by your question, expression turning somber as he nods, “He is. I am a bastard. He sent me here to be in the care of the monks.”
He’s surprised at the angered expression on your face, “Why will he not care for you? Fathers are meant to care for their children! What a horrid man!”
He stares at you intensely, expression remaining morose. You are right. A parent is meant to care for their child. He feels angry at the thought that his father does not accept him, that he shows no interest in his existence.
“He did not want an illegitimate child. He told my mother that I was the Devil’s spawn and the result of their weakness.”
You scoff, “That makes him the Devil then. What an idiot.”
Osferth bursts into laughter at your words, “You are right. As always, Princess. How can I argue with the smartest lady in England?”
“You cannot. You are the farthest thing from a Devil spawn,” you say, eating your lunch, “And King Alfred is stupid. I heard he shits blood.”
Osferth chokes on his water, wiping his mouth before bursting into laughter again, “Who told you that? That may count as treason, Princess!”
“Æthelred told me,” you say smugly, “He knows everything about everyone. And it cannot be treason if it is true.” Osferth smiles gently as you continue to eat, listening as you chatter away, “Anyway, I think you would make a better prince than Edward ever would. He is rather annoying. Æthelred says I will have to marry him one day. I would rather become a nun.”
Osferth snickers, “You can come and live with me at the monastery. I will be your personal monk and take care of you. But,” he grins, “I do not think you really want to be a nun. You are too bold for that. You will be an Empress.”
You smile brightly, “If I am an Empress, I will marry you and you will be the Emperor. We will ride our horses into battle together.”
Osferth’s ears go red at the thought of marrying you. He has never thought of marriage or anything of the sort, being a monk, but you are so pretty and your body is so warm next to his that he cannot help but think it would be wonderful to marry you.
And he notices for the first time how your eyes seem to sparkle in the afternoon sun.
By the time the two of you are sixteen, Osferth is fully aware of the depth of his feelings for you. He watches as you run over to him, looking beautiful as ever, eyes dancing with excitement as you yell his name.
“Osferth, you will never believe who I met!”
He leans against the wall and looks at you with interest, “Who?”
“Lord Uhtred,” you whisper, “He is back!”
Osferth’s eyes go wide with surprise, “You did? Where is he? Where did you meet him? It must have been very exciting!”
“He came to the castle to give my brother and Æthelflæd his congratulations on their wedding. Oh, Osferth, you should have seen him, he is just as impressive as everyone says!” You pause before wrinkling your nose, “He is a bit old though.”
Osferth grins at your comment, “Well, he is indeed a bit older than us, but that means he is more experienced in battle.”
You hum, acknowledging his words before continuing to ramble, “I met his men too. An Irishman named Finan and a Dane named Sihtric. They were both quite handsome, especially the Dane.” Osferth bites back the jealousy gnawing away at him as you continue speaking, “Oh, but it was awful, Osferth, Sihtric barely even looked at me! He just stared at the floor. I even plaited my hair!”
Osferth laughs slightly at how serious you seem, “Perhaps he thought you were too pretty and could not look you in the eyes because he felt so shy.”
“Does that mean you think I’m ugly? You always look me in the eyes,” you retort sassily.
He smiles at you warmly, “Of course I do not think you are ugly. I like looking at you. And your lovely plaited hair.”
You giggle as he moves closer, doing a little twirl to show off your hairstyle, “Do you like it? Æthelflæd weaved some flowers into it,” you pause before grumbling, “Not that Sihtric cared.”
“You look beautiful,” Osferth mumbles, almost shyly, “Perhaps this Sihtric did not know enough about flower weaving to notice your hair. He is probably thinking about how to win a battle or things like that.”
“I quite prefer men like you who notice my hair,” you grouse, “A lady’s hair is very important to her.”
Osferth nods, biting back a smile as he asks, “Would you like to know something you have that I very much like about you, Princess?” You nod eagerly, and he clears his throat, face going red as he speaks, “I like your smile very much. Your eyes seem to shine when you smile and your voice becomes even more lovely.” He pauses, lowering his voice, “Would you smile for me? Would you make your Emperor happy?”
You laugh at him, completely delighted, “I cannot believe you still remember that! Emperor and Empress. We were only children.”
Osferth’s heart warms at seeing your beautiful smile and he laughs in return, “It was a long time ago, yes, but I cherish that memory.” He takes your hand in his, your soft skin brushing against his, gazing into each other’s eyes as he whispers, “You have been my best friend for years, and yet, I find myself craving more.”
You bite your lip, barely able to hold back your giddy smile at his words before you ask, “Do you want to kiss me, my sweet Emperor?”
Osferth feels his breath quicken but responds with a nod, his breath catching in his throat, “I would like that very much, my beautiful Empress.”
He waits with bated breath as you stand on your toes, gently pressing your lips to his in the sweetest, most chaste of kisses. His heart beats like a drum in his chest as he kisses you back, hands cupping your face tenderly. You only pull apart when you hear one of your ladies in waiting calling you back in for supper. You give Osferth a kiss on the cheek before sprinting back to the castle.
A few days later, you are taken entirely by surprise when Osferth tells you that he is leaving with Lord Uhtred, intent on accompanying him on his adventures.
“W-what?” you ask, voice quivering ever so slightly.
He nods, averting his gaze, “Yes… There is no place for me anywhere, Princess. If I do this, I will have a chance to make a name for myself. To be more than the king’s bastard son. I need to change my destiny. To see what life is like outside of these monastery walls.”
You stare at him before nodding slowly, “Well, goodbye then,” you say, pulling away from him and crossing your arms.
Osferth’s expression grows sad as he rests a hand on your shoulder, worried that you are upset with him, “Goodbye? Is that all you have to say to me? I have been your best friend all this time and you do not even look sad that I am leaving…” His voice cracks slightly as he questions, “Do you not care about me? The way you refuse to look at me makes me feel guilty, as if I have done something wrong.”
“I do not mean to make you feel guilty Osferth,” you say, turning away and turning your nose up, “Do as you like. When you return, you shall likely find me a married woman.”
Osferth is surprised at how quickly the mood between the two of you has changed. His stare is intense and he pauses before speaking.
“A married woman?” Osferth questions, both confused and jealous, “Please tell me… To whom will you be married, Princess?”
“Prince Edward, your half-brother,” you inform him primly, “The king and my brother both desire the match. And since you will not even be here, I have no reason to resist their wishes any longer.”
Osferth watches as you stride off, frozen in place for a moment before he takes off running after you. You are supposed to be his Empress, not his brother’s wife!
“I cannot believe you would marry Prince Edward! He does not deserve you! He is not worthy of your smile, your laugh, your love. You cannot marry him!” Osferth declares passionately.
You frown, “You ought to leave. I am sure Lord Uhtred is waiting for you.”
Your words sting and he swallows back the tears that threaten to spill, “I do not want Edward to get your beautiful smile. It is mine. You are my Empress…”
“Just go, Osferth,” you say, looking at him sadly, “Go on your adventures and leave me in peace. Do not write to me and do not expect to find me waiting for you.”
He watches you run back into the castle, covering your face and letting out a heartbreaking sob. Osferth sinks to his knees, feeling completely heartbroken and utterly lost.
Several years later, when you and Osferth are both grown, twenty years of age, he returns to you. He left a pretty girl behind, but now he finds you a grown woman, more beautiful than any creature he has ever seen in his life, more beautiful than he remembered you in his dreams. You greet him, Uhtred, Sihtric, and Finan with a kind smile.
“My lords.”
He feels his cheeks flush as he admires you, seeing that you are standing beside his half-brother as his betrothed, a sharp pang in his chest at the sight. He stares at you intently, breath catching in his throat when you speak to him.
“You are much taller than I remember, Osferth.”
His eyes light up at your smile and it is difficult to keep his composure. He has to remind himself he cannot talk to you the way he used to, that you are a lady betrothed now. He must be respectful.
“Thank you, Princess.”
You excuse yourself from the room, giving Osferth a meaningful look, communicating without words that you wish for him to follow you. He does so without hesitation, finding himself in the gardens where you two met all those years ago. He admires the sight of you on that bench, where he first spoke to you, moving to sit beside you.
“This place will always be special to me.”
“To me as well,” you smile at him.
Osferth inhales sharply before cutting to the chase and asking, “Are you really marrying my brother?”
You sigh before replying, “I am supposed to.”
Osferth swallows thickly, “You… Why?”
“I am a princess. He is a prince,” you say quietly, averting your gaze, “It has all been arranged. A way to further strengthen the ties between the kingdoms.”
Osferth shakes his head angrily, “You should be able to marry the man you choose. Not one who was chosen for you by your arseling brother. Surely you can refuse?”
You look at him, your lashes fluttering as you speak, “In an ideal world… I would be yours.”
“And in this cruel reality?” Osferth whispers, desperation in his eyes as he pulls you into his arms, “Will you run away with me?”
Your eyes go wide in surprise, “W-what?”
“Run away with me,” he says, shocked at his own words before realizing this could be his last chance, “Leave this castle, the court. Be with me. Be free.”
It is a crazy idea. He knows this. But you have never once seemed satisfied with this life, with your decisions being made for you.
“But what of your plans to become a monk?”
“I do not want to be a monk. It was chosen for me. What I choose is you. I will always choose you,” Osferth says, confidence growing, “I would take you to Coccham. We would marry. We would have children. Everything we ever wanted. My Empress, I…” He looks you in the eyes, taking your face in his hands, “I love you. I do not have much, but I love you. And I will make you happy, I swear it.”
He knows his words may seem naive, but they are true. You look up at him, smiling sweetly.
“Kiss me again. Like you did all those years ago,” you request softly.
Osferth does not hesitate, his arms wrapping around your waist as he presses his lips to yours, submitting to his desire for you. The kiss is passionate and loving, an affirmation of the way the two of you feel about each other, bound by the love you have always shared and always will.
“I will go to Coccham with you,” you whisper when the two of you part, “I will marry you. How could I not?”
You take to the road with Osferth, Uhtred, and the others that very night, packing a small bag of your belongings and ready to begin your new life with your love. Uhtred has watched you grow into a young woman before his eyes and feels an almost fatherly sort of affection for you as he watches you and Osferth, Finan and Sihtric teasing you as brothers would.
You ride for several days, but you take ill on the road, a horrible fever overtaking you. By the time you reach Coccham, you need to be carried to bed by Osferth. He lays you down gently as Uhtred’s wife, Gisela, rushes to get blankets to warm you. Osferth’s hand rests on your face and he kisses your feverish brow, wanting to soothe your pain. He hears you cough, a terrifying rattling sound that shakes him to his core. He prepares hot tea for you every day, reading to you from the Bible, some of your favorite Psalms to soothe you. Uhtred suggests that they take you back to Winchester, that perhaps the healers there may be of more help, but Osferth knows you would never survive the journey.
You hold his hand weakly, coughing hard, “Osferth, I…”
He looks at you, his heart in his throat as he kneels by your bedside, “My love? What is it?”
Osferth cradles your face in his hands, watching as your eyes shut and you breathe your last. He shakes his head frantically.
“No… No… My love, no!”
He holds your face in his hands, gently shaking you awake, growing more and more frantic as he screams for help, kissing your cheeks, your lips, feeling that your body has already begun to grow cold. He cannot bear the thought of losing you, his true love.
After a while, Finan points out the obvious, tears in his eyes. That you will need a proper burial. Osferth bursts into tears, sobbing hysterically and shaking his head.
“Come back to me, please!”
He holds your body close, refusing to let anyone near you, begging you not to leave him.
And that is when Sihtric offers a solution. Unorthodox, yes. Blasphemous, certainly. He suggests that, if Osferth is willing to pledge fealty to the Norse gods, that he may be able to convince Loki and his wife, Sigyn, to return you from Niflheim to the land of the living. Osferth nods fervently, immediately agreeing to the idea. He will give anything in the world if it means that you will wake. He will risk everything.
The journey to the gate between Midgard and Niflheim is far, and the road is treacherous. But Osferth braves it. He travels to the ends of the earth, refusing to give up on his quest to get you back. It takes days, weeks, maybe even months before he reaches the realm of Loki. Time has ceased to have meaning ever since your death.
Osferth reaches Loki and Sigyn’s throne room, dark but beautiful, prostrating himself at the gods’ feet, begging for mercy. Begging for you.
“Ask me your favor, mortal,” comes Loki’s silvery voice.
Osferth gazes up at him and Sigyn before speaking, “I ask you to return my love to the land of the living. She has died before her due time and I will give anything to have her back.”
Loki chuckles, shaking his head, “Your lady is one of the dead now, mortal. One of my servants. Why would I ever return her?”
Osferth looks down at the ground, his jaw setting in determination before he meets the god’s gaze once more without fear, seemingly impressing the deity, “I love her. More than anything in the world. I know I can make her happy. I will pay any price to have her back.”
Before Loki can refuse, he sees that Sigyn is moved by Osferth’s declarations of love. She fixes her husband with a sharp glare and Loki lets out a sigh before turning to Osferth.
“I will send your lady up after you, through the Niflheim gate. But,” he warns, “You must not look back at her until you have crossed back into Midgard. If you do not trust me and look back to see if she is there, she will be lost to you forever.”
Osferth nods in agreement, bowing again and accepting Loki’s terms. He takes a deep breath and turns to begin the arduous journey back to Midgard, wanting nothing more than to see you again, to hold you in his arms and kiss you.
As he walks, he hears your voice calling to him and smiles, nearly turning to face you before remembering Loki’s words. Your cries grow more desperate.
“Osferth, help me…”
His face goes pale. Everything in his body screams at him to turn around and save you, but he remains steadfast. He keeps moving forward, not looking back, his body trembling at hearing the sound of you in pain and suffering.
“Osferth, please…”
He hears you let out that low, rattling cough. The one you did just before you died. He feels tears pool in his eyes, mouth going dry, but he continues.
“I will make it. I can make it.”
The cries fade and a voice sobs as if in pain, but still he walks. He walks and walks until he reaches Midgard, hearing the Niflheim gate close behind him. He immediately turns to look now that he has held up his end of the deal, but you? You are nowhere to be found. His face twists in despair. Has this all been some cruel trick? Did Loki play him like a fool, dangling his dream of a future with you before his eyes and snatching it away? He is ready to go back for you once more but he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He turns around slowly, seeing you, your face glowing with visible happiness as you greet him, “My Emperor.”
“My love,” Osferth whispers in shock before pulling you into his arms, embracing you tightly. His lips find yours, desperate and passionate to confirm that you are here, standing beside him.
You giggle as he spins you around, peppering kisses all over your face, “Osferth, put me down!”
He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, I missed you so much. I thought you were lost to me forever.” He sets you down, resting his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, “I love you. I love you, I love you.”
Osferth kisses you once more, hearing you murmur, “I love you so much. I want to marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you.”
He nods in agreement, smiling at you, “Let us marry. As soon as Lord Uhtred allows us to do so. I cannot imagine life without you.”
When the two of you reach Coccham, you let out a yelp of surprise when Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric race to shower you in brotherly hugs, Gisela coming to you as well to kiss your brow and embrace you tightly, “Perhaps I shall try dying more often…”
Osferth smiles at how everyone greets you, with so much love. It warms his heart. Uhtred immediately announces that he will begin preparations for the marriage, that the two of you need not worry about a thing, that he and Gisela will take care of absolutely everything. Sihtric suggests that the two of you go somewhere special to celebrate your reunion, giving Osferth a knowing smirk. Osferth blushes and nods, taking you by the hand.
It is a long ride, but you two do not care as you reach that very garden where you met all those years ago. You sit on that same bench, your head resting on his shoulder as you watch the sun begin to set, the sky coming alive with its pink and yellow hues.
“I remember the day we first spoke here. All those years ago,” you sigh.”
Osferth presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling softly, “Destiny brought us together. We have always belonged to each other from the moment we met. It is you and me, forever and always.”
“Forever and always, my Emperor,” you agree, kissing his cheek and letting your lips linger against his skin before you tease, “Osferth… Must we wait for the wedding night to…” You trail off suggestively, giving him a cheeky smile, “Enjoy each other?”
Osferth thinks for a moment, blushing before he breaks into a wide smile, “No, I do not wish to wait a moment longer.”
You giggle, throwing your arms around him and tackling him to the ground in your enthusiasm, much as you did the first time you met, “My Emperor.”
“My Empress,” Osferth whispers as you kiss him passionately, “I need you. I need you so badly, my love.”
You make quick work of his robes, tossing them aside, the moon now rising in the sky, illuminating his pale skin. You kiss every freckle, every inch of exposed skin before taking his cock into your mouth, gazing into those blue eyes of his all the while, admiring how handsome he looks as his face twists in pleasure. You hollow your cheeks, cupping his stones as you bring your beloved closer and closer to his peak, nearly choking on his length before he pulls you close to him, shaking his head.
“I… I wish to spill myself inside you,” he whispers, almost shyly.
You nod, grinding your hips against his thigh, wetness pooling between your thighs. Osferth practically rips your dress from your body, desperate to see you in all your splendor. The moonlight makes you look almost ethereal, bare before him in this garden, your place. His hand snakes between your thighs, slowly stroking your cunt, gasping at how wet you already are. He gently pushes two fingers inside of you, grinning at the gasp you let out, pumping them slowly, loving the subtle bounce of your breasts as you grind your hips down against his hand.
He feels you squeeze tight around him, reaching your peak with a gasp of his name. And when the two of you join your bodies, he gazes up at you in wonder as you sink down onto his cock. You let out a soft moan, just staying there for a long moment. The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes before your lips meet in a tender yet passionate kiss. You begin rolling your hips against his while Osferth’s hands grasp at your arse, squeezing your flesh, kneading it between his hands.
“I can’t wait to see you with child,” he admits, “Your belly round. Everyone will know that you are mine. My Empress. My love.”
“Yes, my Emperor,” you murmur, mewling as his cockhead brushes against your sweet spot, “Oh, Osferth…”
“I feel close, my love, let me spill myself inside of you,” he pleads.
You nod, squeezing around him tighter than you thought possible, his hips bucking up wildly against yours, admiring you as your face twists in ecstasy. You feel his fingers move to touch your pearl, gently rubbing it with the pads of his fingers. He feels your walls flutter around him, sees the way your lips part, and knows that you like it and so he continues. He feels his peak getting closer and closer, sitting up to take one of your breasts in his mouth, holding your hips in place when he feels you begin to tire, instead, rutting up against you like some sort of feral beast.
You reach your peak, moaning his name as he continues suckling at your breast, his cock still bullying against your walls until he lets out a shuddering, raspy moan of your name, spilling his seed deep inside you. The two of you fall backward onto the grass, breathing heavily as you gaze up at the stars. He brings your hand to his lips and turns to face you, holding you close.
“I love you, my Empress,” Osferth whispers, kissing you gently.
“And I love you, my Emperor.”
You two stay like that for a long while, gazing up at the stars, exchanging soft kisses, before you finally decide to begin your return to Coccham.
To your home.
Together.