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thyshadowwriter · 1 year ago

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Lost & Found. Chapter 13.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: making amends is difficult, but some help is always welcome.

A\n: I decided to do this one with Aslaug and Ivar POV. Love a mama bear 🙂

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @pieces-by-me @luvmeijii @fairypitou

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Aslaug POV:

Her sons left to train early in the morning, which gave the queen some time to think. She took notice of how Ivar was more sullen and irritable, being more silent than usual. Ivar was a moody person, but he hid his sadness poorly from her. Ivar was the person she loved the most, seeing something upsetting him made her restless.

This time, Aslaug knew very well what was making Ivar sad, even if he didn’t outright say it. He was missing Revna. She never showed up again after that day, Asalug never even heard of her since, not from Ivar, Ubbe nor any of the slaves. She could very well have vanished from Kattegat entirely for all she knew.

For a while, Aslaug hoped that whatever interest Ivar had in Revna would wane with the absence, but that didn’t seem to happen. That girl was the cause of his sudden sadness just as she was the cause of his joy, like the seer said to her and it terrified Aslaug. Of course she wanted Ivar to have love, she wanted him to be happy, but there was a part of her that considered the possibility that would never be the case. Just how many marriages she knew were out of love? Certainly not hers. Ragnar never loved her, he wanted her to breed and if not for that, she would just be another of the many women he fucked. She tried to gain his love, but that was for Lagertha only; she tried to search for comfort in the Harbard’s arms, but that didn’t work out for her. She would rather Ivar didn’t go through any of that because the pain was blinding and never truly healed.

But if the Gods willed it, there was nothing she could do. For as much as she wished Ivar would just forget about Revna, seeing his beloved son sad was something she could not bear. He already suffered enough as it was, if she would bring him some happiness, Aslaug would do everything in her power to keep the girl close.

She left her house shortly before her sons just like she did for her walks, but this time she decided to pay a visit to her old friends and their new daughter.

Ivar POV:

Ivar was angry for having argued with Revna but more than that, he missed her. He never had someone that cared for what he had to say and enjoyed his company, no one other than his mother or Floki would willingly spend time with him, no one other then them treated him like he wasn’t a burden and a mark of shame; Ivar felt that she listened to him and he didn't want to give that up. It gave him a bit more confidence that Revna hadn't outright dismissed him when he last spoke to her. That gave him hope that maybe she didn’t hate him entirely and their friendship was salvageable.

For now, however, he still had the Sigurd issue to deal with. He knew it was pointless to try to get anything out of him, but he didn’t have to. All he had to do was get Sigurd at the right time and never a better one than training time.

The brothers went to training and things proceeded as usual. Hvitserk always looked like he was having a good time when training, Ubbe always paying attention to what they were doing and Sigurd pretending Ivar didn’t exist.

As they progressed, it came the time to train against each other. Each brother went a round against each other, but when it came the time for Ivar and Sigurd, which usually was skipped since their tensions, Ivar didn't let that pass:

“Won’t you fight with me, Sigurd?”

“Why would I fight a cripple? There’s no point to it.”

“Why don't you try it?”

“There's no reason for it. Cripples don't go to battle.”

“Then there should be no problem for you. Or are you afraid, Sigurd? Are you afraid of me?”

Sigurd turned silent for a while. Hvitserk too was silent, he never liked to get between their fights and whenever one was about to start he became quiet enough one could forget he was even there at all. It was always Ubbe that deescalated the arguments, though even for him it was becoming harder each year.

“You don’t come, because you’re scared of me. You know you cannot beat me.”

Sigurd smirked and leaving his shield behind he went at Ivar full of confidence with his axe. Ivar quickly blocked, the two kept on their ‘training’ but the force each of them used was way too much for just a train and both their oldest brothers watched in dead silence. Hvitserk was almost frozen in place as he waited for Ubbe to put a stop to it before they killed each other while Ubbe watched each and every movement with wide eyes.

Next they knew, both Ivar and Sigurd were on the ground, their weapons left behind in favor of their fists. It was somewhat of a relief for Ubbe and Hvitserk as they couldn’t kill each other as easily with their hands as they could with their weapons. Ubbe gave them a time to settle their differences, before putting a stop to it.

“Enough you two. You are not children anymore, stop this.” Spoke Ubbe authoritatively as he grabbed Ivar by his clothes to pry him away from Sigurd, both of them bloody and covered in mud.

Aslaug POV:

Aslaug reached Floki’s home. The boatbuilder was the first one she saw, he was carefully choosing the trees but he instantly took notice of her.

“Floki.”

“Aslaug. It’s been long enough.”

“It's true. The years passed too fast.”

“Or too slow.”

Aslaug smiled, but that didn’t reach her eyes. In a way, her sons grew up apparently in the blink of an eye, in the other, the years were dragging and lonely for her.

“Has Ivar been here recently?”

“It has been a while.”

“I'll be straight to the point. I've noticed Ivar became close to the girl you adopted, who is she?”

Floki was always one to not tell the entire truth and Aslaug could feel he was hiding crucial information about that girl. She was sure something was really off with that matter because Floki would never bring an outsider to his home.

“Helga brought her from the last raid and has been teaching her since.”

“Is she a Christian?”

“No. She wouldn't be here otherwise.”

Floki’s face twitched slightly. Even after all those years he still hated the Christians with the same fire. It was good to hear she wasn't one of them, but not precisely a relief.

Aslaug wouldn't ask the why of her presence, that was pretty clear. After Angrboda’s death, Helga had been slowly losing her mind, her grief was obvious to anyone that met her before and as her fertile years passed, Aslaug could only imagine her desperation for another child grew more than what she could handle.

“She must be a curious creature if both Helga and Ivar took a liking to her. I would like to see her.”

Aslaug wasn't really requesting as much as she was politely informing, both of them knew it, Floki looked at her oddly, but didn’t object.

“She’s with Helga.”

Floki pointed towards his house, watching curiously as Aslaug made her way. She soon saw Helga sitting with the girl on the bench, teaching her with the runes.

“Aslaug.” Helga greeted her, surprised to say the least.

“Helga. I see that you're teaching the girl.”

“I am. Revna is very dedicated and learned very fast. Ivar helped her a lot as well.” Helga answered proudly, holding the girl by her shoulders.

Aslaug had her attention on the girl, almost ignoring Helga. The girl unnerved her. At first glance, other than her obvious different appearance and shorter stature, she was like any other girl her age, yet there was something off with her that the queen couldn’t put her finger on. Aslaug wanted to believe it was her concern with Ivar’s happiness clouding her judgement, but her gut instinct screamed otherwise.

“Surely she must be grateful for the opportunity the Gods gave her.” Aslaug said, her eyes not leaving the girl and equally, the girl looked back at her curiously and cautiously.

“She adapted well. Floki wants her to attend to the sacrifices so she can ask for the Gods' blessings.”

“It’s only appropriate. If they choose her to be your daughter, they��ll accept her offerings.”

Aslaug replied to Helga, but her attention was still on the girl. The next she spoke was clearly addressed to Revna with just a hint of an order.

“I’m sure Ivar will greatly appreciate you engaging in our ways. He’s very devout and you two seem to have gotten along well, am I right?”

“Yes… I think. I hope.”

“So do I. The Gods may look favorably at you, in which case, I trust I’ll see you with Ivar more frequently.”

“If he wishes. Ivar is well now. He does not… need my visit anymore.”

“He has invited you to our home, that’s not to be taken lightly. Our families have been friends for years and he seems to want to be your friend. Wouldn’t you want that?”

“I… yes. I would.”

“That’s great. I’m sure Ivar will speak to you soon.” Aslaug said with a faux smile that was mostly condescending before turning her attention to Helga “Maybe they’ll make good friends.”

Aslaug didn’t want to break the old friendship she had with Helga, it was the sole reason she didn’t take the girl to live in her home with Ivar for as long as he pleased. She and Helga did some catching up, to which the girl remained dead silent.

When Aslaug returned home and saw Ivar and Sigurd dirty and bloody, she knew she made the right call. Later that day she gently nudged Ivar to go talk with the girl. She was certain things would work out for him.

Ivar POV:

Early in the morning Ivar headed to Floki's home wanting to catch up with Revna. Ivar wasn't one to give up, but having his mother's incentive gave him more courage.

This time, Ivar didn't make an effort to hide his presence as he saw Revna who quickly took notice of him. She waited for him and when he was close enough she saw the bruising on his face, she kneeled closer to him and moved her hand to reach his face, Ivar waited expectantly for her touch, but she stopped before that.

“Ivar, what happened?”

“It's nothing to worry about.” Ivar answeredf nonchalantly, with a smile nonetheless.

“But… you are hurt.”

“It’s just a bruise from training. No need to worry.”

She looked at him concerned and not entirely convinced and it didn't fail to make Ivar feel cocky.

“Does it matter to you if I get hurt?”

“You were bad to me. Does not mean I wish you hurt.”

“I was bad to you?”

“Yes! You argued for nothing.”

From anyone else, Ivar wouldn't tolerate such insolence, but Revna had that annoyed expression that he couldn't honestly take seriously.

“You hid things from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You met with Sigurd and didn't say a thing about it.”

“I did! Didn't know he was your brother! How would I?!”

For all Revna was reserved, she sure got annoyed fast and Ivar found it entertaining.

“Sit down with me, I want to talk with you.”

“You do not have to say anything to me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

“Why?”

“Just sit down and listen to what I have to say then make up your mind. If you don’t like it, I will let you go.” He wouldn’t, but it was enough that she believed otherwise.

She considered his proposition, and while she clearly was still guarded, she sat down.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I blamed you for things you didn’t know and were never at fault. It wasn't warranted.”

“But… Why are you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at you. I should not have said that to you.”

“You were. Because of your brother.”

“You’re right. And because you didn’t tell me.”

“I did not know.”

“You should have told me anyway”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what friends should do.”

That made her look at him oddly, like she didn't understand what he said.

“Are we friends?”

“I thought so. Or were you just with me out of pity?”

“No. I like to be with you.”

“Then you should have told me you met someone new. It is what friends should do, don’t you think?”

“I do not know. Never stayed this long anywhere.”

She answered him very casually, butIvar's curiosity was piqued by Revna’s statement. For the moment he decided to not press her.

“Why were you angry? That I met your brother?”

Ivar breathed deeply. He wasn’t comfortable talking about his relationship with his brothers, but sooner or later she would come to know, either from him or others, he would rather she knew through him.

“I’m not like my brothers. I’m a cripple, they do not see me the same.”

“But… They are your brothers. It should not matter.”

It was when it struck him just how unaware of things she truly was. She looked at him just as confused as she did when she first saw him, waiting for him to explain like he did when teaching her.

“You don’t understand. Cripples are left in the woods to die. I am alive because my mother saved me. But I am not the same as my brothers.”

Ivar gauged Revna’s reaction as she seemed to consider what he just said. It took her a little while to say anything.

“I am happy you live. I like meeting you.”

She said that in such a light hearted way, Ivar was without breath. He felt his face a little warm as she smiled kindly at him and he had to look away. Nobody ever said that about him, much less with such honesty and Ivar was left speechless. He took a moment to regain his composure.

“Then it is set. We are friends.”

“Will you argue with me?”

“No, but you have to promise me that you will not hide things from me again.”

“Like what?”

“You let me decide that. What do you say?”

“Alright. We are friends then!” She said in such a chipper way Ivar could only smile at her. Before he forgot, he searched in a pocket inside his thick vest and reached his hand out to her, revealing a couple of tiny, yellow flowers tied together just like the ones she had liked so much.

She lit up at seeing the little flowers, joyful like he missed seeing from her. She reached to take them, but stopped midway, her smile fading as she looked cautiously at him.

“Take It. It's for you.” Ivar reassured her.

She tentatively reached for the flowers and gently took them from his hands, twirling them in her fingers, entertained like a child.

“Would you allow me?” Ivar asked, gesturing to the flowers and then her hair.

Revna eyed him curiously, but nodded nonetheless.

Ivar took the flowers from her hand and carefully arranged them among her braids. When he was done, he caressed the long locks of hair on his way back. It was a beautiful har, so full of curves and waves he couldn’t help but feel enthralled by it and how the flowers contrasted like gold on it.

Revna giggled at him, hiding her face a bit out of embarrassment and knowing that she was happy to be with him was a strange experience but it gave him a special kind of confidence.

Aslaug POV:

As she predicted, Revna was back with Ivar, playing hnefatafl. Ivar was completely taken with the girl, looking with bright eyes to her and the tiny yellow flowers on her hair, he didn't pay attention to anything nor anyone else and he was smiling, truly smiling and not just pretending or being sarcastic. He had a joy so free of the weight he carried that Aslaug had never seen before.

Ivar sat close to the girl, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers as he waited for her turn. Occasionally, he caressed her face and pointed out something in the game. That didn't fail to make her shy and awkward and he apparently enjoyed it.

Aslaug would not say anything about it, she knew Ivar would be defensive and he couldn't see things Aslaug did, but it was clear to her and as much as she wanted to protect Ivar, it pleased her that he was happy. For as long as she was alive, Aslaug would do everything in her power to keep Ivar happy. If he wanted that girl's company, then so be it. For her favorite son, she could overlook her discomfort with that stranger.

#ivar x reader #ivar x oc #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar fanfic #vikings fanfiction

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 3 years ago

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Rest Your Weary Hands Prologue

In this post I announced some new works. This is the Ivar x Reader work.

Requests are open

Warnings: Mild gore mentioned, it's like one sentence.

424 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

It was the same dream again, flashes of different items that seemed completely unrelated. It made no sense, but Aslaug knew it was another vision. It was getting worse, at first, she only had them every now and then but now they were almost every night. Each time the images crossed her mind she felt a more profound sense of urgency.

Aslaug wandered the large bedroom, she could still see the pictures flashing beneath her eyelids.

A large bunch of herbs

A mass of hair, tied up hastily with a bit of old cloth.

Powder being ground in the mortar.

A thick green cream being spooned into a jar.

A bag of coins being dropped on a counter

A woman walking down to aisle to stand next to a faceless man.

The flash of a sword and the same faceless man resting on a cane while he yells at his men.

She had to get to the bottom of this, before she never sleeps again.

************************************************************************

Aslaug was walking out in the market with her son Ubbe. The wears on offer were standard, various clothes, some weapons and different kinds of food. When she rounded one of the covered stalls, she saw something that surprised her.

Ulf the swift was tending the fur stalls, and he seemed in perfect health.

"Lady Aslaug, I have some new coats I know you'll love" he sounds as cheerful as ever.

"By the Gods! you're walking" The usually composed queen was stunned, Ulf had been trapping for the new season when he was attacked by a bear, he was found almost dead with his legs a mangled mess. Everyone assumed his children would take over while he spent his day at home with this wife.

"I was blessed by the Gods my Queen" as she got closer, she could see that he wasn't recovered completely. There was a chair behind the stalls and he was leaning some of his weight on the table.

The smile on his face proved it wasn't a worry.

"How to do you come by this cure Ulf?" His smile grew.

"A healer just past the forest near the wheat fields, she has the hands of Eir."

He was rooting around in his satchel, after a few moments, he pulled out a small jar filled with a green cream. He shook it in his fist.

"This might as well be water from Valhalla."

Same Jar

Same Colour

It was a thing from her vision

"Can you take me to this woman, I must meet her."

Part 1

Tag List

@ladynightshade30 @katshuya @istorkyou @smears-and-spots

#ivar x oc #fluff #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #vikings fanfiction #ivar the boneless #vikings fic #ivar ragnarsson #vikings #ivar #aslaug

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hellisateenagewerewolf · 3 years ago

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VIKINGS

OPAL THE DRAGON EYED

‘ We have always been meant to burn together ivar ‘

They were always gonna grow up

Even if it meant in blood and fire

*****************

Hell is a women scorned

‘ He is your son ivar ‘

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭

‘ he’s a monster ‘

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

‘ no ivar you’re the monster ‘

' Why do you treat her that way...She’s all we have

left , you should cherish her '

******

OPAL THE DRAGON EYED

Prologue

Episode 1

Episode 2

#ivar ragnarsson imagines #alex hogh andersen #bjorn ironside #hvitserk #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd #aslaug #lagertha #vikings #viking oc #ivar the boneless #ivar x oc #Viking fanfic #ivar ragnarsson fanfiction #house of the dragon #young rhaenyra #ivar x reader

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years ago

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 11

Guys, buckle up. This chapter is a roller coaster. Also, its in Ivar’s POV so.... just strap in tight.

Warnings: lots of swearing, Ivar’s poor decision-making, Ivar’s anger issues, lots of threats of violence, brief reference to past violence, mention of attempted sexual assault, Ivar’s mind is a dark, scary place, ok? angst-fest i swear there is some fluff hidden in there!

Words: 9800 (i kept it under 10k yay!)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @avoidanceishowiroll @maggyme13 (lemme know if you wanna be added or deleted from the tag list)

Series Masterlist

Ivar drummed his fingers along the white marble, kitchen countertop, lost in his own thoughts. Currently those very thoughts centered on two persons, alternating back and forth like some kind of dizzying carnival ride.

The first person was the man- no that goddamn fucker- who was betraying his father's trust, who was selling information about the company. When Ragnar asked Ivar to look into the encrypted transcript, he figured it was some low-level employee who had been placed in the company for the purpose of spying or had been bought out by the Russian mafia. Nothing that had not been attempted before. There were enough safe walls up that those pitiful attempts were easily caught by the youngest Lothbrok. And those persons always suddenly vanished….sometimes their broken bodies returned to send a message.

But the more Ivar tugged on this thread, and the more this tapestry unraveled, the more his blood boiled. No, this was no mere employee that was selling them out this time. The more that Ivar discovered, the more he had to physically restrain himself from jumping on the company jet to retrieve the fucker and introduce him to Ivar's knives. Oh, how he wanted to hear the man scream and see the red stain blooming on his pristine suit. The idea gave Ivar such a rush, he had to grip the marble countertop to steady himself.

Last week, he had told Ragnar of his findings and his further damning suspicions. To his credit, Ragnar throwing a glass decanter across his office and against the wall was far less than what Ivar would have personally done in his rage. If he found out someone he had trusted for years was now betraying him, blood would stain the very ground he walked on. Soon enough though. Vengeance ran just as thickly in Ragnar's blood as in his youngest son. Together they made a plan. Now all they had to do was finish spinning their spider's web and wait.

Ivar continued to monitor and make sure to extract any information that the bastard tried to leak out, replacing it with useless information, but not enough to make it obvious he had been caught. Oh no. This was a game. One Ivar knew he would win. Now it was about moving the chess pieces into place and watching the house of cards crumble beneath the turncoat.

The other person that continued to haunt his mind was both its soothing balm and his greatest headache - Kari.

Until now, he never understood how it was possible to be both equally frustrated by someone, yet so desperately wanting to be around that person. He found himself frequently checking his phone to make sure he had not accidentally missed a text from her. How the highlights of his day involved her - either through their texts/video calls or when he actually saw her in person. How if he heard mention of a restaurant or café he had not tried yet, she was the first to cross his mind to ask if she would come with him. How if he was bored at home, flipping through a streaming service and saw a movie or TV show, his first thought was to wonder if she would like it.

It was infuriating. Maddening. Destabilizing. Terrifying.

Then he would open his phone to see a picture of the two of them as his background. Something he always ruthlessly ridiculed his brothers for doing with their girlfriends. Yet he could not bring himself to change his background, not when her face greeted him after he unlocked his phone.

A few days ago, while they were cuddling on her bed watching their TV show, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of them. The action startled him more than he cared to admit. When he asked her why, she just shrugged and said she wanted a picture so when he called, the picture would come up. When he glanced at the picture, he rolled his eyes. The angle was all wrong, the lighting was terrible. Really, he did not know how she managed to take such an unflattering picture.

So logically, he snatched the phone from her hand, immediately deleting the picture to her cry of dismay. His own phone came out and with his special photography features he installed, he took a few pictures of them still cuddled together. Before he knew it, an hour had passed as they played around like it was a mock photo session. There were some single shots of him she took, he grumbled about; many more of her that he took, much to her annoyance. Most of the pictures were of them together - some silly, some serious. In all of them though, they looked like a couple. They looked happy.

The current picture as his background was one of his favorites. It was a side shot, he was laying on his back, his head propped up against a pillow while Kari had her chin on his chest. The two of them were staring at one another, gazes locked with smiles on both of their faces. It was cheesy and corny and for anyone else, Ivar would laugh until his sides hurt. Now his heart clenched painfully in his chest whenever he saw the picture. The soft way she looked at him, like she wanted to just soak in his presence, that words were unnecessary to understand one another. But what hit him even harder, what knocked his feet from underneath him….was how he was looking at her. He gazed at her like she had hung the moon for him personally.

It was later when he was editing and scrolling through the pictures that he realized this was something he had never done with Freydis. Sure, she took pictures of them to post on social media and show off her glamorous life. But he knew for a fact they never took pictures just to make each other smile and laugh….and he never looked at Freydis like he looked at Kari.

He was unsure what it was between him and Kari. It was more than just lust, even if he did desire her with every cell in his body. It was more than just friendship because he knew he would never be satisfied with only being her friend. Was it love though? The very thought made him want to gag and run away. Romantic love was a rarity. The only couple he knew that held any form of love between them was Floki and Helga. Never would he admit aloud how he used to watch them, study them, and wish that one day he could find someone to cherish like that. But as the years passed, he gave up on that dream. He was a Lothbrok, love was….never truly an option.

He knew familial love. He would kill for his mother, Floki and Helga and his family. Subconsciously Kari was now a part of that group he would kill for. If anyone tried to hurt her, his wrath would equal those of the old gods themselves.

But was this romantic love?

And if it was….what the fuck was wrong with him?

Ivar slammed his hand on the countertop as his turbulent thoughts got the better of him. A sneer tugged on his mouth. The very idea was a foul taste that lingered on his tongue.

Yesterday he went over to Kari's after work. They had gone out for dinner, her wearing one of the new dresses he had bought her, much to her chagrin. She had looked even more stunning than he had imagined and, gods above, did her ass look divine. They had a great time, talking and laughing. When they got back to her townhouse, a heated make-out session happened against the front door since he could not wait any longer to get his hands and mouth on her. In the midst of it, he asked her to be his girlfriend again. Almost begged. Something he never did.

And she said no.

Again.

He left soon after. His emotions warred with his fears and he had to get away. Once back home, he beat the fucking shit out of a punching bag in the gym. Ubbe eventually found him, covered in sweat with bloody, bruised knuckles since he did not even take the time to wrap his hands before swinging away at the bag like it personally offended him. His older brother tried to get him to talk, but Ivar shrugged him off. So with a sigh, Ubbe just stood behind the punching bag to stabilize it as Ivar continued to beat his frustrations and worries out.

Though with the morning sun, those fears and frustrations returned. All day they hovered just above him as he attempted to distract himself with work, cawing loudly like crows sent to torment him.

Even now with the moon rising, they taunted him. Not once did he text Kari or respond to her texts the whole day. So many times his fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to respond. But he never did.

And his insecurities cackled at him in the background.

It was the gentle touch on his shoulder that drew him out of his inner turmoil and back to the present. His sharp eyes turned to see the only woman he knew would unconditionally love him for every moment of his life.

"Are you alright, darling? I've called your name a few times now." Aslaug asked, watching him with concern as she stood next to him.

"Fine." He grunted, shifting on the kitchen stool.

If her cool look said anything, she did not believe him.

Ripping his eyes from hers, he looked down at the mug of tea on the counter she had made for him. It was as he grabbed it to take a sip, he realized it was cold. Fuck. How long had he sat there consumed in his own thoughts?

His mother was back from France, staying for three days before heading to Kattegat. The two of them had been talking in the kitchen as she prepared her nightly chamomile tea, making him some without even asking. They had been discussing Ubbe's upcoming birthday and when he was going to visit Kattegat with her next. They both were dressed to relax, him in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her in yoga pants and a loose tank top with a fluffy robe over the top.

Aslaug was a formidable woman in her own right. She used fashion as a weapon. 'Dress to impress and remind people of your place' was a motto she lived by. Majority of the time she dressed in power suits or dresses that conveyed power and authority, while still appearing gorgeous and feminine. It was this current look that was his favorite, how she was relaxed with the fluffy robe he bought her years ago and her beautiful hair hanging loosely down her back. It reminded him of the many hours she spent at his bedside, reading to him or distracting him from the pain radiating throughout his body from yet another surgery. It was this Aslaug that was his beloved mother. He appreciated the strength she wore like a mantle when she was out in the world, running her business and being the face of the hotel chain. Something many people claimed she would never be able to do. Yet she thrived….and so did her business.

But it was this Aslaug that was gentle with him, that he allowed to comfort him and spoil him. There was only one other woman he was so comfortable with….

"He's probably thinking about Kari." Hvitserk said from across the kitchen island. He had joined them some time ago, jumping into the conversation while munching on whatever he could shove in his face. It was while he worked on his second piece of cake, with Aslaug fondly reprimanding him, that Ivar must have zoned out into his thoughts.

"Shut up." Ivar glared at his brother.

"Kari? That is the girl you've been spending so much time with, right?" Aslaug slipped onto the kitchen stool next to him, her eyes peering at him knowingly.

He did not answer. His gaze remained trained on the mug between his hands, even as he had no intentions of drinking it now.

Hvitserk leaned on the kitchen island, facing his youngest brother and mother. "Yep. I'm guessing they had a fight last night, that's why he's in one of his moods. She probably refused to be his girlfriend again."

Ivar clenched his jaw, but refused to look up.

"She's worried about you." Hvitserk's tone softened. "She texted me earlier today, wanting to make sure you were okay."

"Why the fuck does she have your number?" Ivar snarled, his full attention on his brother.

"Because I fucking gave it to her. Did you not hear me say she text me to ask about YOU? Damn it. Get your head out of your ass!"

Ivar started to rise from his stool along the kitchen island, blood roaring in his ears.

But it was the gentle touch on his shoulder once again that stayed his actions. "Ivar, darling, tell me what happened?" Aslaug softly cooed. When Ivar made no further movement, her hand slid to his back, rubbing soothing circles on it like when he was a child.

After a moment, the fight drained from him like pus from a wound, leaving him feeling exhausted. He sunk back into his seat, running his hands through his loose hair. "I don't know what to do. Fuck. It's been almost two months and still….she still won't be my girlfriend. I gave her the bullshit that it didn't matter, that we can be whatever we want, we're just Kari and Ivar but…."

"But you want more." His mother softly finished after his voice trailed off.

He did not bother answering, keeping his eyes glued to the countertop.

"It's not like she isn't into you, we all see the way you look at each other." Hvitserk stated after a silent minute. "I bet the sex is great with how flexible she is. Hot damn."

"We haven't."

"What?"

Ivar ran his hands through his hair again before confessing quietly. "We haven't….had sex."

There was a long pause before Hvitserk started laughing.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Gods, no wonder you're so grumpy. She's got you by the balls and you aren't even fucking."

"Hvitserk!" Aslaug chastised, her hand still rubbing Ivar's back. When Hvitserk raised his hands in mock-surrender, only then did she turn her attention back to her youngest. "Has she told you why she won't be your girlfriend?"

"Some bullshit about needing time….not being ready….that I'll get bored of her eventually….I can do better. Fucking excuses." There was a large part of him that was pleased that her reluctance to date him was not because of his legs. Even if he despised all her other shitty excuses.

"Maybe she just isn't into dating?" Hvitserk unhelpfully added with a shrug.

"Has she had a boyfriend before?"

Ivar turned to his mother, pondering her question. His mind scrambled to remember if she ever mentioned an ex but he could not recall. "I doubt it. She's a virgin."

"Just because she's a virgin doesn't mean she's never dated. Not everyone jumps the first thing that moves like you boys."

Hvitserk chuckled while Ivar grinned at their mother's jab at them. She had long ago accepted her boys were the furthest thing from virgins and instead of trying to persuade them from that course of action, she just checked that they were treating the girls fairly and made sure they were stocked up on condoms.

Aslaug sighed. "Has she ever acted skittish around you? Especially in regards to sex?"

He thought back. "Sometimes? I know she wants me. I can tell she does. But it's like she is scared to have sex. I can feel her tense up initially sometimes when I try and…." He chose to not finish his statement.

"I want cake, doesn't mean I want to fuck it though." Hvitserk smirked, dodging the spoon Ivar threw at him.

"You'd fuck cake if you could." Ivar retorted.

Hvitserk laughed. "It'd have to be some damn good cake."

"Ivar…." His mother drew his attention back to her, a sadness in her eyes. "Do you know if anyone has ever hurt her?"

"What?" All the joking instantly evaporated from the air.

"Could that be why she is so reluctant? Could someone from her past have hurt her or….taken advantage of her?"

He knew his mother was trying to be delicate with her wording for his sake but what she was saying, what she was implying…. a righteous fury rose up in him at the thought. His gaze darted from his mother's worried expression to his brother, only to see the same shock and anger mirroring his own feelings.

Without a word, he got up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair as his mind reviewed every interaction, every intimate moment, looking for any kind of clue as to the truth of his mother's words. With each step, each breath, his fury increased thinking about a faceless person hurting Kari, laying their hands on her, possibly forcing themselves on her. His mind could easily see it. Those blue-green eyes of hers he adored, overflowing with tears, filled with pain, slammed shut to try and block out what was happening. Her soft skin littered with bruises. The sounds of her crying, shouting, begging for mercy….

With a shout fueled in rage and coated in anguish, he spun on his heel and punched the nearest wall. The plaster cracked under the impact, leaving a dent and spider cracks coming from it. His hand throbbed with each heartbeat after. He could feel the bruises protest that were not fully healed from last night, and some fresh blood trickle from his knuckles. It was a truly, fucking miracle he had not broken any fingers.

Now all he could think of was hearing the truth from her. He needed the name of this faceless person who dared even think about harming her. The raging fire in his blood demanded it. Then he would find that bastard and kill them so slowly and painfully, they would curse the day they ever laid eyes on Kari. He would drain them of their blood, forcing them to watch it spill at their feet. He would break every bone in their body.

He needed to see her, with an urgency that made his very breath lodge in his throat, threatening to choke him, and his heart pounding like a war drum in his ears. He needed to make sure she was okay. He needed to wrap his arms around her and promise that no one would dare lay a hand on her while she was his. Because no matter what she said about not wanting to be his girlfriend, she was his.

Ignoring the sharp stinging in his hand, he started for the garage, snatching his keys off the counter. His phone was in his hand, ready to call his driver, even though he had told the man to take the night off.

"Ivar!"

His brother's call made him pause.

"I'll drive."

He looked over his shoulder to see Hvitserk push away from the kitchen island and walk towards him. A nod of thanks was all he could manage. If he tried to speak, he knew poisonous vitriol would escape his mouth. Just as he started to walk again, his mother's voice made him freeze.

"Be careful."

Be careful? He whipped around, wondering what the fuck she meant by that. He watched Aslaug stand up and come closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hvitserk stop too. Most likely just as curious what she meant.

His beautiful mother stood in front of him, a guarded expression on her face. "Please…. Be gentle with her. You don't know what happened. Just, don't push, don't force her to talk."

"I'm going to find out who the fuck the bastard is and fucking destroy them." He hissed through his teeth, an icy venom lacing every word.

"I know. But she might not be ready to talk. Just be careful. I know you want to help but sometimes…. Sometimes you just need someone to sit by you and remind you that you're not alone versus threatening to burn the world down in their name."

His mother's words settled in his mind like light rain over a wildfire. After a long moment, he simply nodded. The fire in his chest still raged, but now it felt more contained than wild.

She squeezed his hand before stepping back and smiling sadly at both of her boys.

Immediately, Ivar stormed out the door, headed towards the garage and their many vehicles.

"My car!" Hvitserk shouted, heading in the direction of the cabinet where they kept all the keys.

Ivar continued forward, figuring that was where they were ending up. Hvitserk's silver Audi R8 was parked next to Ivar's own Mercedes.

Swiftly, he slid into the passenger seat, leaning his head against the headrest and closing his eyes. His anger swung on a pendulum from fiery to icy. One minute he wondered if his rage would consume him, the flames licking at his nerves. A ticking time-bomb of wrath just waited to be released within him. In the next minute, his muscles would lock as if thick ice slipped into his veins. The anger and fear rolled in his gut, images of what could possibly have happened to her like ice shards driving into his brain. He scrubbed a hand down his face, only now noticing the faint tremble in it.

Thankfully Hvitserk did not say a word when he dropped in. He tossed Ivar a cloth and an instant ice pack for his hand. Soon as he was sitting, Hvitserk started up his vehicle and pulled out, not even turning on music.

Now more than ever, Ivar hated how far Kari lived away from him. It was only across the city, not even a thirty-minute drive. Most of the distance came from the gated community the Lothbrok brothers lived in outside of the city. But with each minute that passed, his mind fractured just a bit more from the fury and fear that ate away at it like parasites. The urge, the desperation, to see her grew with each moment, each turn of the wheels. Eyes still closed, he tried to focus on his breathing.

When they finally pulled up, he noticed the roommate's car in the driveway but did not care. It was evening, but early enough that he guessed Kari would still be awake. If not, she was about to be woken up. Then he realized that in all the commotion, he had not even considered texting her. He just needed to see her. Now.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Ivar rubbed a hand over his mouth before looking over at his brother. "No…. I'll call a cab or something."

"Nah. There's a pub nearby. I'll go get a drink and wait for you."

"Alright."

Ivar opened the door and got out, heart lurching painfully. Each heartbeat felt like a chanting of her name within his chest, only worsening the necessity to see her.

"Hey." Hvitserk was staring at him intently. "You tell me what she says. I know she's your girl but I like her around. She's….she's good. Whoever hurt her, I want in."

Ivar grinned that was nothing short of bloodthirsty. Reaching forward, he fist-bumped his brother like they did when they were kids. "Deal."

"Good luck."

Ivar waved him off then shut the car door, starting towards Kari's front door. He pulled out his keys, quickly finding the one for Kari's townhouse. In the back of his mind, he knew Kari would hate that he used his key. He had promised only for emergencies.

Well, he deemed this an emergency.

Without remorse, he unlocked the front door and let himself in. The scent of cheap wine and garlic hit him immediately, along with some irritating pop music. He rolled his eyes, wondering how people could listen to that shit. It made his ears want to bleed.

As he was closing the door behind him, not even trying to be quiet, a blonde head popped out from the kitchen area, only to gape at him.

"Where is she?"

At his question, her eyes narrowed at him. A second later, Alana disappeared only to come around the corner, ignore him completely and stalk towards the living room.

He followed behind, his barely suppressed anger rising to bubble just beneath the surface when he heard Alana's shrill voice.

"Why the fuck did you give him a key?!"

"What?" Kari's sweet voice reached his ears.

Alana took a step further into the small living room, one hand on her hip and the other pointing an accusatory finger in the brunette's direction. "You can't give people keys to our place! How can you be so stupid? You don't have the authority! What were you thinking?"

"I didn't…." It was then he came around and Kari spotted him, her voice trailing off as her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Ivar?"

He spared Kari a glance. Any other time he would have loved to admire how relaxed she looked, curled up on the couch with an open book in her lap, dressed in those short, sleep shorts that would be the death of him and a loose t-shirt that said NYC in faded letters. Instead he turned his full, incensed attention to Alana. He was already on edge thinking that someone had hurt his kitten, had dared to lay a hand on her, but to hear her roommate yelling at her….

That ticking time bomb in his chest was about to go off.

Ivar came up behind Alana, forcing her to turn around as he stood poised over her. Looking down his nose at her, he could smell the sudden fear rolling off of her, crashing against the waves of fury around him. What she was thinking, he did not even try to guess, for it was too fucking stupid to waste his time on. It was now as he hovered over her like an angel of death, that she seemed to realize the mistake she made.

Instead of blowing up at her, instead of yelling, he stared her down with an icy glare, freezing her like prey. His voice was deceptively smooth and controlled, not giving away the blood roaring in his ears. "If I ever hear you talk like that to her again…." He grinned like the devil himself, letting his threat hang in the air.

All the blood drained from Alana's face as she stared at him then her eyes darted to Kari and back.

"Oh no, she won't save you." He said, taking another menacing step closer, watching her stiffen. "You insult her….you fucking deal with me, bitch."

A slim pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, an embrace he probably could recognize in his sleep because of the way his body subconsciously relaxed into it. "Ivar, it's alright."

Alana thickly swallowed, the quake in her voice undeniable. "You can't….you can't talk to me like that. This….this is my uncle's property."

"Think I give a fuck?" He sneered, laying a single hand on the clasped hands around his waist. "I could buy this shitty place tonight if I wanted. What the fuck would you do then? Hmmm?"

"Ivar, let's go." Kari softly pleaded; her face pressed against his back.

"No, kitten, if the bitch doesn't like the way I'm talking to her, she can fuck off."

Kari scooted between them, placing a hand on the side of his face, trying to turn it towards her. His only response was to wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer against him, to shelter her from his storm….but he never took his eyes off Alana. He had never hit a woman before, but his clenched fist was evidence of how close that line was about to be crossed.

Her eyes were wide and mouth opened slightly, gaze shifting restlessly from her roommate to Ivar and back. It was obvious now she understood the potential consequences of her actions, how Ivar was not someone to fuck with, how Kari was his and he took any slight against her personally. She stumbled a step back, almost falling onto her ass if she had not caught herself against the wall last minute. The whole time her eyes remained focused on Ivar as if waiting for him to pounce, terror controlling each of her movements.

And he reveled in the intimidation. Bathed in the satisfaction it brought him. Inhaled her intense dread like an expensive perfume.

Kari tugged on him once again, her gentle voice a beam of sunlight striking through the black, stormy clouds. "Ivar, let's go upstairs. Come on."

This time he allowed her to move him. He gave Alana one last shark-like grin, before following Kari up the stairs, holding her hand the whole way.

Once they reached her bedroom, he slammed the door closed behind them. His skin tingled like flames licked each individual nerve ending, his anger scorching him, clouding his judgement and thoughts. Alana would have to be dealt with later, she was a small minnow in the ocean. Soon enough he would remind her of her place. Now though, he needed to fulfill his mission that originally brought him here. He needed a name. He needed to know whose blood would paint his knives.

"Ivar, what…."

He cut her off, yanking her against his body and claiming her mouth like a man possessed. There was nothing soft and gentle about this kiss, it was greedy and controlling. His tongue plundered her mouth with a fierceness that left her gripping his t-shirt to hold herself upright. She tried to pull away but his hand fisted in her hair restrained her. He refused to relent, his rage and fear manifested into an inglorious passion that demanded to be soothed by her touch alone. It was selfish, possessive yet he did not stop until the wrathful fire warming his blood dimmed to a manageable flame. Only then did he release her mouth to press their foreheads together, both breathing heavy and lips swollen.

"What is his name, Kari?" He growled.

"What?"

"His name. The man that hurt you."

She carefully leaned back just enough to meet his bright eyes; head tilted to the side. "What man? What are you talking about, Ivar?"

He found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Maybe his mother was incorrect after all? Gently, he shifted his hand from fisting her hair to rub a thumb along her cheekbone. "No one…. No one has pressured or forced you into sex before? Like an ex or a friend?" He quietly asked, the question tasted like poison on his tongue.

Immediately, she stiffened in his arms….

….and his rage returned tenfold.

He cupped her face, forcing her gaze to meet his. "What. Is. His. Name?"

"It doesn't matter." Her answer came out in a halting breath.

"The fuck it doesn't matter." He stepped away from her and started pacing in her small bedroom. His hands trembled with the need to do something, anything! His blood boiled dangerously in his veins, obscuring his senses. "He fucking hurt you! I swear on all the gods, I'll gut him and set him on fire!"

She dropped onto the edge of her bed, eyes wide as she watched him pace like a caged tiger. "Ivar, no. It's….it's fine."

"Bullshit! No one lays a hand on you! I'll skin him alive! Fuck! Who is it?"

"Why does it matter? It was before."

"Back in England?"

"Yes." She answered hesitantly, hands gripping her pale lavender comforter.

At least he had a place to start. "What happened?" He demanded.

"It doesn't--"

"Say it doesn't matter, one more fucking time!"

Her mouth audibly clamped shut.

Groaning at himself for yelling at her, he ran his hands roughly through his hair. It felt like daggers to his gut every time she tried to say it did not matter. How could it not matter? Someone would pay for her pain. He just needed the bastard's name. Fury was a living, writhing parasite in his gut, eating away at him. Why would she think it did not matter? That he would not care?

Once he felt somewhat stable, he turned to face her as she still sat on her bed. He took a step closer and opened his mouth to say something, only to see her flinch at his movement.

The world stopped spinning. The very air was rapidly sucked from his lungs leaving him gasping. All the walls surrounding his dark heart crashed down when he saw her flinch.

In fear.

Because of him.

"No, no, no. Søte Kari." He mumbled, his anger evaporating instantly. The red lens of rage covering his eyes vanished like smoke. He stumbled closer, dropping to his knees in front of her. A position that was not impossible with his legs and braces but was not comfortable either. "My sweet, my sweet Kari, no." He beseeched. "I'd never hurt you. Please, kattungen min, kjære, don't….please."

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her hips, staring up to meet her startled gaze. The green was more prevalent in her eyes than blue today. Something he only now noticed. Their eyes remained locked. He desperately hoped she would see the pain, the remorse, in his blue eyes. Never before had his anger disappeared so quickly, an almost whiplash because replacing his anger was self-loathing. Here was the woman who he wanted, needed, desired, in his life….and he caused her to be frightened….of him. He had only wanted to protect her, to avenge her, to keep her safe. Never this. Never to fear him. Not his sweet kitten.

Finally, what felt like an eternity, one of her hands rested on his cheek. "I know, Ivar." She whispered.

He dropped his head onto her knees in relief and awe. His shattered heart slowly rebuilt within the confines of his chest. How she could forgive him so easily, so quickly, astounded him. His hands clutched at her hips, needing to anchor himself to her. Her hand lazily ran through his loose hair, soothing him more than any drug or pill ever could.

"What happened to your hands?"

"Mmmm?"

She laid a hand over his, lightly tracing his bruised knuckles.

"Boxing." He mumbled against her bare thighs.

Thankfully she either believed him or decided not to push the topic. Whichever it was, he was grateful. Her hand returned to combing through his hair and all he wanted to do was purr like a cat and bask in her presence.

After some time, when his heart no longer rammed against his chest and his stomach untied itself, he tipped his head to the side to softly utter, "is it because of him why you won't be my girlfriend?"

Her hand's movement ceased at his question. "Ivar, look at me please."

Worried he had damaged whatever fragile bridge he had just managed to fix; he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Indeed, he saw pain, but also confusion in her eyes. She scanned his face as if looking for a hidden agenda, for secrets hiding in the shadows. His eyes never abandoning her gaze, he grasped her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm before placing it against his cheek. With a sigh, the corners of her lips briefly turned up in a smile. Her thumb rubbed along his skin.

"Why do you want to know?"

Blinking at her question, his thoughts spun in circles. How could he explain it without further frightening her? How he wanted to spill every drop of blood from this faceless, nameless man, to bleed him dry like a pig. For how dare anyone hurt Kari, the sweetest, purest soul he had ever met. It was more than that. He wanted to know, needed to know. He wanted her pain, in hopes he could take it from her. To be her shield, her armor, so she could be the pure heart he protected.

"Do you trust me?" He simply responded.

She inhaled sharply, turning her head to look away. After a moment she looked back at him. "Yes, I do."

He swore his heart swelled three sizes bigger at hearing her words. "Then tell me."

"It's not….it's not that important."

"It is to you. So that makes it important to me."

A wet laugh escaped her, his own lips turning up at the sound. She leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to his mouth. "Fine, but get up. That can't be good for you."

"Oh, thank fuck. This floor is hard as hell." He quipped.

After some pointed looks, maneuvering, adjusting and him finally just dragging her next to him, they laid on her bed together facing one another.

He wanted to drag the words out of her, force the truth from her lips. Instead he kept his lips sealed. His hand rested on her hip, thumb rubbing lazily along the line of her soft sleep shorts. Any other time he would have no problem expressing his appreciation for her ass and thighs highlighted by the short shorts. Now though, he focused on her face.

Her own gaze remained glued to his chest, her fingers fiddling with his Thor's hammer necklace. An action he never told her how much he adored since she started it. He noticed how she played with her own jewelry when thinking or nervous. To see her use his constant necklace to fulfill that urge made his heart swell.

When she continued to remain silent, he had to swallow a growl of frustration. His mother's words floated across his mind; an idea birthed from it.

"I've only had one girlfriend." He confessed. "Plenty of girls to fuck but only one girlfriend….and we can see the shit show that was."

She raised her eyes to his and for a second he caught a glimpse of renewed fear in her watery eyes. Then her eyes dropped back to his chest.

"Kari….trust me." He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I've only had one boyfriend. He, um, he was a friend of a friend at university. My family really liked him. He came from a….a well-known family. We were only together for less than two months." She sighed, still playing with his necklace. "I didn't really want to date him but felt pressured so I gave in. He was nice….romantic at first."

"What happened?"

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. "He wanted sex….and I didn't want too. At first, he was tolerant but he soon began to pressure, saying I had to because he was my boyfriend, I should stop being such an ice queen and prude, demanding to know if something was wrong with me…. You have to understand, my grandmother was religious and she strongly believed you had to wait until marriage for sex."

He snorted.

None too gently, she poked him in the chest. "Stop, it was important to her. So that's what I grew up hearing. Plus, I think she wanted to try and force me down that path….to make up for her own child--my mom."

"What's wrong with your mom?"

"You really want to hear all of this?"

"You've heard all about my fucked-up family. Can't be worse than mine."

She snickered. "Touché." Instead of the words flowing freely, she pressed her lips into a fine line, hesitating as if worried what would come out.

"Sweet Kari," he snuck a kiss to her lips, "just tell me."

"Fine. Well, my mom, she….well, she fell in love young. Got pregnant. So, my grandparents forced them to get married. My dad had a decent job and they loved each other, so it was not a bad life for my mom. But he died when I was five. Car accident. My mom missed my dad, I know she still does….but something changed in her after his death. For weeks she refused to leave her bed. Then one day, it was like a switch had flipped. You have to understand, she had gotten used to a certain lifestyle, and with him gone, she could not achieve that anymore, especially with me. So she….she found boyfriends that were wealthy and willing to pay for her to live comfy. During this I stayed with my grandmother. I think part of that was that I take after my dad more in looks, so seeing me reminded her too much of him, especially in the beginning."

"And after your grandmother died?"

"Thankfully, I had already graduated school and could go to university. My mom remarried when I was twelve to a very wealthy man."

"And the boyfriend? What happened with him?"

She hesitated, eyes bouncing up to his then back down to his chest. "One day he invited me to his flat to watch a movie. He….tried to get me to have sex with him. Shoved me onto the couch. I kept slapping at him and telling him to get off. Finally, he did. Then told me to get out. Said we were through, since I wasn't going to sleep with him. That there was no purpose for us to date. Funny enough, I found out after that the whole time we were dating, he was sleeping with other girls."

Ivar shoved off the bed, back to pacing, anger rolling through him like a train. Images of this faceless boyfriend played before his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to find him and choke the life out of him. To watch the fear in his eyes slowly dim as he paid the price for hurting his Kari.

"What is his name?" He growled out, fists clenching by his sides.

"No."

Her quiet answer shocked him. He spun on his heel to stare at her. "What? What do you fucking mean 'no'?"

She shook her head, eyes flicking up to him then back down to the comforter. Only now could he see the tears swimming in her eyes….and he wondered if she was trying to suppress her pain for his sake.

"Kattungen." He stepped closer, running a hand through his hair, feeling like the world's biggest asshole. Sliding back onto the bed, he gathered her up in his arms. He could hear the occasional sniffle as her face was pressed against his chest.

"Want to know the best part?" She murmured.

He could feel her hot breath through his thin t-shirt. "Hmmm?"

She chuckled humorlessly. "My mother was furious when she found out he broke up with me. Not because he was cheating on me the whole time, but that I refused to sleep with him. She said I needed to get over myself and just let him fuck me. That….that I probably wouldn't do better than him anyway. No one wants a tease."

Every time more of her past came out, he wanted to punch someone, preferably her mother at this moment. Fuck! He knew his own family was fucked up in their own way but at least he knew his family always had his back, well, maybe not Sigurd. His family would support him and fight for him just as much as he would for them. Who did Kari have? His thoughts were interrupted as she continued speaking.

"I promised myself after Nat….um, him….that I wouldn't date unless I was friends with the guy for a while first. I wouldn't take that chance again."

Now he had a name, or part of a name, he swore he would find the bastard. Gently, he ran his hand up and down her back for a few moments before asking his next question. "Did he break your heart?"

"No." She shook her head against his chest, face still buried there. He could feel her hand back to fiddling with his necklace. "I liked him but it was too soon for more. I was slightly wary because I knew he had a playboy reputation."

"Mmmm….is he the reason you left England?"

"Part of it. I couldn't deal with the stigma and disgust from those I thought were my friends. And my mom continued to push me to try and win him back. Or find someone else wealthy to date. And...I didn't feel safe staying with her."

"Because of her pushing?"

"Mmmm….and my stepdad." The last part came out in a barely-heard whisper. Yet it immediately sent alarm bells blaring in Ivar's mind.

"What about him?"

"He….he liked to watch me."

"What do you mean?" Anger churned in his gut, that parasite back to eat away his resolve of containing his fury.

Her voice was only a whisper, as if worried someone would overhear. "He never….did….anything. Sometimes he'd make comments, like how some man would be lucky one day to have my legs wrapped around him….or I need to make sure to swallow….just stuff like that whenever my mom wasn't around. Or if one of us was passing the other, he'd stop me to brush some hair behind my ear or touch the necklace I happened to be wearing….just little things. But whenever he was around, I could just feel his eyes on me, like he was touching me but with his gaze. It's stupid. I tried to tell my mom once but she said I needed to learn to deal with men's attention. So, I tried to avoid him whenever I could."

"Fuckkkkk…." He groaned. So much of her fear made more sense now. Why she refused to be his girlfriend and why she was so initially uncomfortable with anything sexual. Fuck, if her mother had remarried that bastard when she was twelve, she had been dealing with his pedophilia advances since then. He added this sickening fucker to his list to investigate. It could not be that hard to find him. His mind already was plotting how to deal with him, how to induce the most pain possible.

They laid together silently for several minutes, both wrapped in their own thoughts. Her face was still pressed against his chest as if hiding from the world, or her memories, he was unsure. He made no move to push her away, offering her a safe haven, even when he happened to feel a growing wet spot on the front of his shirt. Resting his head against hers, he laid the occasional kiss to her hair, wishing it could wipe away her tears.

"Kari…." His mind fumbled with what to say. How to reassure her he was different from her ex. How to tell her that he needed her safe, for both of their sakes. That he had never before thought about it, too focused on wanting to label her his girlfriend, but she had truly become his best friend. Gods, above he hoped she felt the same. But those words clung to his tongue with a vice-like grip, so he settled with just saying, “I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. I'll tear them apart if they try."

"I'm not sure you can make a promise like that."

"I just did, and I will always keep my promises to you."

Tipping her head back, she smiled softly up at him and he thought his heart would burst. He could read the trust in her gaze, the affection there that kept drawing him back to her over and over until he felt addicted. She rose up slightly to kiss him, just a gentle pressing of lips. "Anyone tell you that you're scary when you're angry?"

He chuckled, tucking some loose strands of brown hair behind her ear. "Once or twice."

She settled back down. This time he laid on his back, with her head still on his chest. They laid there quietly, a comforting solace between them. His hand drew random patterns along her back as he stared up at the ceiling. Everything she said replayed over in his mind like a personal horror movie with his thoughts including created images. He knew it was significant she had spoken about it, confirming the trust she placed in him, not that he had given her much of a choice exactly. It did nothing to quell the hurricane of fury building beneath his skin.

Never before had he felt such absolute hatred towards someone, this ex of hers, her mother and her goddamn step-father. They did not deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone be acknowledged by her. At least those she said were family, the mother and step-father, were dead to her in his opinion. His family would have no issue with adopting her. Hell, most of his siblings already asked about her frequently enough. Gyda still liked to tease him that he had stolen her friend. No, he planned to keep Kari far away from those that hurt her. There was no reason for her to return to England. Her place was here. With him.

"Ivar….will you ever show me your legs?"

He froze. What peace he basked in immediately gone at the thought.

Feeling the tension coursing through his body, she leaned back to look at him. "It's okay. You don't have to. It was just a thought." She laid back on him, her arm over his waist.

It was an innocent question, even more so paired with the small, understanding smile on her face. It was cruel though. For his immediate reaction was to forcibly shut that down, tell her never and to never ask again. His greatest weakness, his greatest shame. Even if everyone around him said otherwise, pretended otherwise. It was true. He was a cripple with disformed legs. Only his cunning and ruthless mind saved him from complete anonymity. The cruelty came swooping in with a flood of guilt. Had she not just shared her own personal scars and pain with him? Trusted him? Ivar was a selfish bastard, he knew it. But for her, he wanted to be different.

He took a deep breath, a nervousness making his stomach flutter. "Freydis….she saw them a couple of times." He softly stated, resuming his tracing on her back. "She never said it to my face but I knew they disgusted her. I overheard her once telling Margrethe that the scars were hideous."

With a gasp, Kari sat up to stare down at him. In an instant, she was straddling him, hands cupping his face. "Ivar Lothbrok, nothing about you is hideous. She must be blind as a bat. Next time I see her, I should punch her in the mouth for saying something so stupid."

He laughed, amused and enthralled by the outrage she expressed. Here she was once again coming to his defense without prompt. "Please make sure I see that."

She grinned before blushing. "I think you're one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen."

He wanted to make a joke, but the sincerity painting her confession floored him. "Come here." He tugged her closer, his hand behind her neck, desperate to feel her lips on his. "I don't deserve you."

She giggled, responding to his brushing of lips. "I am only a lowly priestess, unworthy of your attention and affection, oh most benevolent god."

"But you're my favored priestess."

His lips worshipped hers, saying with actions what his words never could truly convey. The slow press of his tongue against her lips had them parting. Instead of plundering her glorious mouth, he traced her perfect lips with his tongue. Then he nipped at her bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth to nibble on. The shudder and soft moan from her made his cock twitch to life. He released her bottom lip, drawing her into another slow kiss, their mouth meeting with deeper need and unspoken understanding. Finally, he pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. If they continued anymore, he might be unable to control himself. The desire to bury his face between her legs and make her forget she even had an ex was growing by the second.

"Stay."

His lips quirked in a lazy grin after hearing her whispered request.

"Stay tonight, with me."

"You sure?" He ran his nose along hers, making her giggle.

"I'm sure."

"I need to let Hvitserk know. He dropped me off."

"Okay, I'll finish getting ready for bed." With another quick kiss, she peeled off of him to slip off the bed. With one more sweet smile, that made his heart skip a beat, she headed towards the attached bathroom.

He watched her walk away, admiring the way her sleep shorts framed her ass perfectly and showcased her thighs. Fuck, he loved her curves, loved getting his hands on them. Hopefully soon he would be able to do more than just touch. He wanted to drink her in like the most expensive whiskey, to hear her cries as he filled her up from the inside, to teach her about pleasure, to help her discover her body in new ways. His cock reared to life in his sweatpants at the intrusive thoughts. Annoyed, he rubbed a palm over it to help relieve some of the tension. He did not need Kari coming back to see his member standing straight up like a flagpole.

Quickly, he pulled out his phone from his pocket in need of both the distraction but also not wanting Kari to potentially hear the conversation.

Hvitserk answered on the second ring. "Got a name?"

Ivar huffed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Not yet. Won't stop me from digging anyway."

"She alright?"

He thought about his answer for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, she's perfect." He knew the stupid smile he was sporting was obvious in his tone but he did not care.

Hvitserk snorted. "Am I coming to get your ass now?"

"No, she asked me to spend the night."

"And you didn't even stalk her this time! I'm so proud of you, little bro."

"Shut the fuck up."

Hvitserk laughed. "Text me and I'll come get you in the morning. Tell her hi for me."

"Yeah, yeah…." He started to hang up but stopped. "Hvits…."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Is this Ivar still on the phone?"

"Fuck you."

He hung up to Hvitserk's laughter in the background. Listening now, he could hear water running in the bathroom and figuring Kari was brushing her teeth. Shuffling to the edge of the bed, he swiftly removed his leg braces, leaning them against the wall. For a moment he sat there debating if he should remove his sweatpants too. He knew Kari would not make fun of him. He knew he trusted her, more than any other woman besides his mother and maybe Helga.

Yet he could not do it. His insecurities won out.

He yanked his shirt over his head and shuffled back onto the bed and under the covers. Although her bed was not the worst mattress, it certainly left something to be desired, especially knowing how fucking amazing his bed was back at home. A brief thought of calling Hvitserk back to come get him and Kari so they could sleep in his bed came to mind. But before he could consider that option more, the bathroom door opened and she came out, a sheepish smile on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you need….?" She gestured to the bathroom.

"No."

"Ok." She turned the light off in her bedroom, moving in the semi-darkness to crawl into the small bed with him.

He loved how she immediately molded her body to his, scooting as close as physically possible, and releasing a content sigh. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he breathed in the scent of her, his face in her hair.

"Are you happy here?" He suddenly asked.

"Right now?"

"No, here. That you moved away from England. Are you happier here?"

He could sense her thinking about her answer. She shifted slightly, her ass rubbing against his cock and he had to choke down a groan at the sensation. Fuck if only she knew how she teased him unknowingly, the innocent seductress that she was.

Finally she answered, a lightness in her tone that had been missing for most of their time together tonight. "I am. It hasn't been easy being on my own and not knowing anyone, but yes, I'm happy here."

"And….now with me?"

She turned her head slightly to try and peer at him in the darkness. "Are you fishing for compliments?"

"Just answer the damn question." He grumbled against her neck, nipping at her skin.

She entwined their fingers that were splayed out over her stomach, careful of his bruised knuckles. "Yes, Ivar. I'm happy you're here. You and your family certainly make my life more interesting."

He hummed, nuzzling against her.

It did not take long for her breathing to even out and her grip on his hand to loosen in sleep. He laid there thinking about how perfect this felt. How he wanted this every night. But she needed a better bed, certainly something more comfortable and bigger. If he showed up one day with a delivery truck and a new mattress, how much would she protest? And an actual fucking TV for her room. Absent-mindedly, he wondered if she would let him get her a new place to live. Somewhere that was better in every aspect, especially without the bitch of a roommate. He knew she would never let him, but he allowed his mind to wander in that image. A new place, maybe an apartment, overlooking the water and with a king-sized bed they could both easily sleep in but always end up cuddled around each other in the middle.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, brushing the fantasy away. Maybe he would just buy this shitty place and give it to her. He would love to watch Alana have to pack up and move out. The place could not be worth all that much.

He made a mental note to investigate how much the townhouse was worth tomorrow.

For now though, he allowed his fingers to run underneath her sleep shirt, grazing her bare skin. He almost groaned aloud when his fingers skimmed upward to confirm that she was not wearing a bra, something he had certainly noticed earlier. It took all of his self-control to slide his hand back down to a neutral spot on her body. If there was truly such a thing.

With her warm body in his arms, their quiet breathing synced, he allowed sleep to claim him. Knowing when he woke up, this all would not just be a dream.

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phenomenal1500 · 4 years ago

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Melt The Ice In My Heart | Vikings

Chapter 13: A Long Time No See

For Chapter 12: I Don't Need You click here

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"I know Bjorn. Hello, Bjorn." Bjorn didn't seem to like the woman as he watched me while rolling his eyes. Bjorn and I became pretty close the moment at the temple and I had taught him much with a sword before I stayed behind with Rollo and Borg so he didn't mind to show how he thought about Aslaug.

"You must have had a tiring journey. Come and eat."

"Thank you. You're very kind. I knew you would be." We were escorted towards the feast and I was afraid how this triangle would end.

~~~

It has been 4 years since Princess Aslaug arrived and it didn't seem that delightful for Lagertha and Bjorn. They had left after Ragnar made his choice between the two women and honestly, I had no idea why he choice Princess Aslaug. I always had a liking towards Lagertha more because she was stronger and more friendly, but hell it wasn't my choice to make. In the meantime of Ragnar growing more in love with Alsaug, Rollo rather filled his days with becoming drunk and freezing himself until he was almost dead. I almost felt pity for him, but most of the time I reminded myself that it was his choice to turn his back on his real people, besides, he still had someone that looked after him to keep him alive.

It was time for Rollo to grow the hell up and create a better life with Siggy, because I felt like he was ignoring her. Walking down the busy streets, even though it was already dark, I noticed the news that Jarl Borg and King Horik had joined us in Kattegat so I immediately walked inside the building they had to be in. Pushing the fabric away from the entrance I could see all my friends dancing and drinking. Laughing to myself, I grabbed a cup from one of the already drunk men and drank from it while dropping myself next to Ragnar. It seemed that maybe Rollo did grow up and had took a seat.

There was no denial in the fact that there was an big tension between the two brothers and I was planning to break it by giving the blue eyed one a elbow in the rib cage to get his attention.

"Ahh... Njorun!" He groaned in pain, but a delightful tone was also hearable in his voice when his eyes lit up a bit. "You are late!"

"Maybe because I didn't know any of this was planned..." I narrowed my eyes and stared right through Ragnar.

"Ahh, yes... sorry, you seemed busy when I had sent the message so I thought, why not let you do your thing." I furrowed my eyebrows and let my mind trail back to the afternoon, the time I was shooting for fun in the already snowy forest to be exact. "Your bow skills are still impressive by the way."

"Much obliged." I tried to show some friendliness by and flashed a smile his way, but he quickly turned his head around to deadly stare at King Horik.

"I have also slain dragons.. just like your father. Unfortunately, like most men, the dragons were only inside my head-..." I hadn't understood much from the conversation, but knew Ragnar became a bit annoyed so he started to talk to one of the King's sons.

"How old are you, Ari?" The young man looked shocked up and swallowed a bit, not believing Ragnar was talking to him.

"Seventeen. Nearly eighteen."

"Will this be your first raid?"

"Yes. I can't wait to prove myself in battle." The son sighed, probably disappointed that he would raid for the first time on this old' age. "I want my father to be proud of me."

"I have a son about your age." Ragnar spoke through his teeth while he narrowed his eyes.

"Where is he? I would like to meet him." The young son cut him off and Ragnar rolled his eyes before staring at me. One way or another there would come a day that Ragnar would stop feel guilty for letting Bjorn and Lagertha go, but that time wouldn't come any time soon if I looked inside his sad eyes.

"I do not know where he is. That is by his choice. I should never have mentioned him. Drink." Both men laughed at one another before taking the cup in their hands to take a big sip out of it, but I knew Ragnar was faking it all. The smile, the happiness, the fame. He hated it all. He had loser everything because of it. His daughter, his former wife, his son. Meanwhile I was overthinking everything, I noticed Ragnar and Horik whisper and I managed to listen with them.

"I have made a decision. I do not wish Jarl Borg to raid with us." Ragnar couldn't take his eyes of the king, mad and confused about the decision.

"But we had an agreement. Why not?"

"Why do you not want your brother beside you? Because you don't trust him enough. It is the same for me with Jarl Borg. I cannot bring myself to trust him completely. You must inform him of our decision." I had dug my nails into my flesh leaving half moon prints in my skin after hearing the betrayer talk and unconsciously I slammed my bleeding hands onto the table which made everybody look up to me before I took my leaving.

#vikings #arne #king horik #rollo lothbrok #rollo lothbrok x oc #oc #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok x oc #aslaug #bjorn ironside #jarl borg #melt the ice in my heart #njorun noraide

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icefrozendeadlyqueen · 4 years ago

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Embodiment of a Goddess: Prologue

A/N: It might just be a one time thing. It was hard to write I couldn’t decided where my mind was taking this. I am incapable of following the show in ways. This pop up in my head, and I couldn’t stop writing it.

I don’t own the viking show or its characters. I do own mine

idk Viking Language Google told me:

Að unna means love.

if you know plz let me know, I appreciated Thank you

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

"You lied to that boy, sister", (y/n) locks the door once both of the Perovina sisters were in. The daughters of the Godesses people whisper among themselves as they go in crowds and out. (y/n) glances around her sister's chambers when she claim in front of the crowd the truth Ashla is Hvitserk's other half perfectly align with the prophecy she sees in her mind. (y/n) wears a fine silk (f/c) dress with adorning accessories gifted to her by her husband. Long and horrendous years that we have lived not knowing if we gotten to our destination that century or achieve the path we were given.

Ashla & (y/n) always together... that was the idea of the gods for us. (y/n) can know the desire future of the beholder with no regards on reality. You can bend the future to your bidding with or without re-precautions... you have never suffer any or because the gods fear darkness that you have at your disposal. You are the delighted representation of light in all types or forms. This world has proper our mission is true, we have done enough and given everything to become what we are now. The journey here to find Kattegat was not easy; however, we prevail in what we do best create hell-firing WAR.

"You know as well as I that you are Hvitserk's future for all of these not to be in vein. You have to marry him not King Umpa of the Legion", (y/n) extend her arms about sketching a map of all the steps we have taken through the vile obstacles that the gods would give us just to fuck with us. Heart tightens making hard for you to not scream at the skies for the stubbornness of your sister here, "It's meant to be", She whispers under her breath trying to atone for the pain she cause Hvitserk. Ashla wears a blood red cloak tender flickers of light emit from the piece of clothing moving about as if alive. (y/n) catches sight the darkness pilling at the hem of her sister's dress. Ashla wore a black dress (y/n) has no idea how can she turn dark everything touching her body of the finest fabrics Hvitserk could find. (y/n) remembers that day by the markets Hvitserk searches fabrics for a dress to be made for Ashla, "There is a bet at stakes (y/n). Ashla told me that if I can somehow make a dress keep its color while she wears it at the next feast! She'll dance with me for as long as my heart desires", His lips press together staring from thick to soft fabrics not sure what would do. He knew that such task was impossible to achieve in his heart he knew thus still he tried to make it a reality. In Hvitserk's shared chambers with your sister, Ashla darkness among men, (y/n) has this whole plan to convince Ashla that this is madness.

"He told you? so it was you that help Hvitserk win huh?", (y/n) glances up lips curl into a genuine smile from your sisters lips. A sense of helpless washes over you when you stare into her eyes it comes with looking into darkness, "You know having share thoughts its extremely annoying", (y/n) claims knowing very well it isn't. You and Ashla are more connected than your husband and you would ever become, "Bridge fell?, Cave Bandits?, Dragon?, Saxxon army? and so on and so forth. I may be arrogant after all who better to protect you than darkness huh? Your Ragnarsson's husband? A human? ha! Cute", Ashla goes on about set reasons to avoid centering to the matter at hand, Hvitserk. You know from the way she caress Hvitserk's objects all around a sense of peace rushes in the room when Ashla's eyes soften barely showing the blood she is so hungry for all the time. War its what keeps her going, she says. War is all she needs, she continues. Love is not something she wants, liar is what she is.

It was it a time matter a jump or life ending you have no idea what was first. No one ever interrupt us discussing matters for Kattegat's future that's what we used to tell Ragnar and he had no reason not to believed us. We have won wars for him prosper Kattegat to levels they can't wrapped their minds around. Vikings are still afloat on top of the world by the era we are in they should have died long ago. It's our duties as Goddesses to keep that from happening. It was sacred, we said. After this we would part ways going to our respective Ragnarssons; however, fate laugh in our faces. I have already knew what was coming if I let my sisters even inch closer to the window she will escape my judgement as usual.

"I appreciate you, sisters", (y/n) starts stopping the raging monsters that's Ashla from continuing the rampage of her trying to evade love, "I am not discarding that I need you just as much as you need me", Ashla's black shadows Holt their movement watching Ashla do the same. She gulps saliva hearing (y/n) words trying to reason with her, "I don't know why don't you accept, Hvitserk. He has given you care and acceptance more than anyone in Kattegat had. Ragnar and Aslaug took a liking to me; however, Lagertha took a liking to you". (y/n) a satisfactory grin writes in your lips. Ashla breath for the first time since 2 weeks ago when you dare her to stop breathing to see how long a Goddess can go without air. Her shadows rejoice at the name of their war mentor a human, Ashla would have laugh, she would to anyone else not to Lagertha.

"You unhitched swine. W-why! you!", Ashla swing around ready to throw her darkness at me in a playful manner to get me back for breaking her solemn walk. It was the only person that would work among us sisters, "Hvitserk", Ashla breath out her eyes flying from (y/n) to his green ones. You glance at your right stand one of Ragnar's oldest son, Hvitserk. (y/n) lets go of the breath you were holding happy that now everything might get fix, "Ashla". Hvitserk breaths out, he blinks a couple of times before taking a step forward towards her. Ashla's hand shake a bit of an anxious habit she is well known for, but no one is brave enough to tell her. (y/n) knows thats a sign that Hvitserk's presence is affecting her. Hvitserk stops looking around localizing every single shadow of hers. They have a tendency to frighten the living hell out of him, "I told you, they won't attack you... (y/n) and you might be the only people they tolerate". Ashla blurts softly as if scared to raise her voice afraid of what might come out. They keep eye contact ignoring your presence all together, "Hvitserk and Lagertha". (y/n) corrects Ashla slight mistake.

"We need to talk", Hvitserk takes a step towards her. His hands closer to his chest though spread about hoping to get close enough to bring her into him.

"No good conversation comes out 'we need to talk' spit it out!", Ashla raises her voice a bit trying not to shout. Shouting only leads to them fighting, and she wants to enjoy this a little longer.

"We don't always see each other eye to eye. (y/n) and you have help my family keep on living for all these years with nothing in return. You given me a muse, and a reason to go into battle knowing well I'll always come out alive... my brothers don't have what I have. Sigurd has (y/n) and I can confirm I have you", Ashla got lost in his voice the way his lips move distracting her awareness. His eyes on hers is all a girl can wish for the reassurance that loneliness is long forgotten. She takes deep breath walking the couple steps towards him. She locks her arms around his back while he does the same to her, "Speak to me. I am begging you. Why? Have I fail you in anyway? Do you wish to marry me? Is that why every King or Earl thinks they stand a chance?". Hvitserk goes on to this feast trying to find an explanation for what happen. King Umpa of the Legion proclaim to Kattegat that he wants Ashla hand in marriage at the feast. The royal family's smiles left as Ashla said yes instead of no. Everyone who knows the relationship between Hvitserk and Ashla stare horrified at Ashla confirmation.

"Is it not your wish to have the greatest army of the world, Að unna? Ragnar's army are equal to none. Sigurd has (y/n) who can see our greatest and worst future. I have you, but you have no army that you can brag about. I want to give you that. I want to give you everything", Ashla takes a breathing letting her words free in the pages of destiny. A black tear runs down Ashla's cheeks showcasing the truth in her words. (y/n) has never seen her sister shed a tear not even really weep. You wait to see if she laughs at the end of her words but she never even grins. Hvitserk lets go off her tender embrace bringing his rough hand to cup her cheeks with tears on his own eyes, "I have you, Ashla. I don't need an army when I have you. You are darkness for the rest of the world, but for me you are my redemption. You make breathing a blessing not a curse. You make living paradise not hell without you in my life I would have gone mad". Hvitserk closest the gape between their lips sealing their future from now on till the ends of times.

#vikings #viking show #reader x sigurd #sigurd ragnarsson #oc x hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarson #Ragnar Lothbrok #ragnar #lagertha #aslaug #embodiment #EmbodimentofaGoddess #Embodiment of a Goddesss #goddess #supernatural reader #emotions #sadness #love

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we-are-only-halfway-home93 · 5 years ago

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Come and Lay the Roses- Prologue- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Little girls grow up believing they’ll meet their Prince Charming, fall in love, and get married. Aaline was never naive enough to dream like that. She as least thought she would have a choice in who she married. Her father ended up taking that away from her too.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violence, sex, and torture.

Word Count: 1895

“It’s not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Ragnar stared deep into the flames fluttering in the fireplace in his office. A glass of scotch hung, untouched, from his fingers. His eyes were unfocused, deep in thought. He shifted when he heard the door open and the clatter of his sons enter the room. He turned in his chair to face them.

His sons, his beautiful sons, the lights of his life. Björn was his oldest. A man grown with children of his own. Björn was his firstborn son with his first wife Lagertha, a formidable woman that commanded respect and still served as his right-hand advisor.

Together they had two children, Björn, and Gyda, his only daughter. How he loved his daughter. Her light had brought him such happiness and when it was extinguished, he lost something forever. He could still see her hair in the summer wheat of Norway and her eyes in the color of the sea in the winter time. They say that man must love his sons more, but a man can be jealous of his sons, and his daughter can always be the light of his life.

He had twelve years with her and it wasn’t enough. At twelve years old, Gyda started to get sick. She couldn’t sleep at night and she had chills. She often told him and Lagertha that she was tired and then Lagertha told him Gyda was losing weight. It was when she started to get nose bleeds and Björn noticed red spots on her skin that Lagertha took her to the doctors.

Acute lymphocytic leukemia, ALL. Her doctor advised them to begin chemotherapy treatments. He also encouraged them to have Björn tested as siblings had an increased risk of getting ALL. Björn tested negative and the doctors gave them an optimistic outcome.

Something happened though. Gyda got worse, not better. They all tested to see if they were a bone marrow match but none of them were, not even Björn. Gyda was getting sicker and nothing was working. Ragnar was losing hope that his daughter would survive this terrible illness but then one day she appeared to be better. She was cheerier then she had been in months. She was eating again and she was laughing with Björn like she hadn’t been stuck in a hospital for weeks, being poked and prodded every day. She was her old self again.

Lagertha always spent the night with Gyda and she said it was around two in the morning when Gyda flatlined. She called him as soon as the doctors started performing chest compressions and Ragnar was quick to wake Floki and have him stay with Björn. It was too late by the time Ragnar got to the hospital.

Lagertha was sitting outside, clutching her hands to her chest. She told him between sobs that doctors worked on Gyda for nearly twenty minutes but they could never get a heartbeat.

No amount of time with his children would ever be enough. It was worse than death, outliving your children.

He and Lagertha tried for several months to get back to each other. Gyda’s death tore at them both but there was still love between them. Their love and Björn. Gyda’s death left a hole in their family and in their hearts. One they all tried to fill.

Björn began learning how to kickbox. It became his great passion, something that allowed him to vent his frustrations.

Lagertha began volunteering. She went to soup kitchens and homeless shelters, finding Gyda’s face in every person she helped.

Ragnar found Aslaug. She was the daughter of a long-dead war hero. Her father Sigurd had died in the Bay of Pigs invasion when she was young and she quickly found a home with her uncle. Her uncle was an Earl of The Northmen, the organization that controlled a large portion of the shipping in the state. When they met, Ragnar was Earl of Kattegat, a chapter of The Northmen, visiting Götaland to form an alliance with the Earl there Jarl Borg.

Aslaug lived in the area with her uncle and she enchanted Ragnar as soon as he saw her. She was as clever as she was beautiful and Ragnar found a freshness in her that he hadn’t seen since before Gyda died. It was easy for him to fall under Aslaug’s sway. She was easy to love.

They spent a few nights together in Götaland and Ragnar thought it would be easy to forget about their time together. Lagertha welcomed him home with open arms and Björn was smiling more. They were learning to live again.

Seven months passed without a word from Aslaug. The alliance between Jarl Borg was shaky but Ragnar was hopeful. When a small caravan arrived one-morning carrying Aslaug and her retinue, Ragnar was apprehensive. He welcomed her with open arms but froze at the sight of her swollen belly.

Aslaug was pleasant to Lagertha and Björn, never showing an ounce of dislike or hatred. Lagertha looked at her with suspicious eyes and bit her tongue as she watched Ragnar and Aslaug together. It wasn’t until they were in the comfort of their own room that she accused him. “Did you have sex with her?”

Ragnar couldn’t avoid the question so he didn’t. “Yes.” She threw a pillow at him. He dodged it easily. “How many times?” She asked. Her voice was thick with anger and tears. They had been married for nearly twenty years. He knew his wife well. “I don’t remember.” He said. She screamed a high, broken, roar that he felt in his bones.

She took her things to the guest room and stayed there for the night. Later they discussed the implications of Aslaug’s pregnancy. “If it’s yours, I’m leaving you.” She whispered across the narrow space between them. Ragnar looked up and watched many emotions cross her face. Fear, anger, sadness, vulnerability, but the one that broke his heart was the pain he saw there. He had not seen that look since their daughter died and he was the one who put it there now. He hung his head and only cried when she left the room.

Aslaug gave birth to a healthy baby boy and a DNA test was ordered immediately. Three days later, Lagertha left him. Björn chose to go with his mother and Ragnar was left with a new son, an old lover, and divorce papers.

He grew to love Aslaug. She bore him four beautiful sons that made him into the father he is now.

Ubbe was first. He had such passion for life and adventure. His passion extended into all cultures and ideas. He was the only one of his sons to study abroad in school and he traveled the world. He explored different countries and studied different religions all for the sake of learning and knowledge.

Hvitserk was his third son and the second with Aslaug. Ragnar often thought that Hvitserk was lost in the world. Never really finding his place amongst his brothers. He was closest with Ivar and Ubbe but enjoyed quality time with all his brothers.

Sigurd was his third son with Aslaug and fourth overall. Sigurd kept himself apart from his brother’s. He resented his younger brother, Ivar because of his disability. Aslaug spent an inordinate amount of time with Ivar, fearing for his health and safety and, as a result, neglecting her other children.

It wasn’t Sigurd’s fault any more than it was Ivar’s. Aslaug was not a perfect mother but she did her best. Ragnar couldn’t say much either. He was emotionally absent through most is his sons’ childhood and left Aslaug to attend to the boys. He spent nearly two decades traveling for The Northmen and left Aslaug at home with the boys for most of those years.

Ivar was the last son gifted to Ragnar and he was the most difficult. Ivar the Boneless, he was called. Ragnar gifted him with the moniker after doctors told them he had DDH, Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip. Through most of his childhood, Aslaug insisted he not walk for fear of hurting himself.

Throughout his early years he would haul himself around on his hands, building impeccable upper body strength at an early age. After doctor’s assured Ragnar and Aslaug that Ivar could walk, Ragnar took him to physical therapy.

When he was a teenager, he started complaining of pains in his hips and Aslaug took him back to the doctor claiming his DDH came back. As it turned out he just had Inflammatory Arthritis of the Hip. Aslaug nearly insisted that Ivar remain bed ridden but Ragnar took a rare step in his son’s care and overruled her. Daily doses of regulated painkillers and physical therapy kept the worst pain at bay.

Although Ivar maintained a noticeable limp into his adulthood, he turned into a frightening young man.

And he was frightening in every sense of the word. It wasn’t just his ability to walk that grew with him. His aggression and savagery grew as well. He was close to Ragnar’s best friend Floki and Floki’s hatred for the Saxon organization was quickly transferred to Ivar. Ivar made it a point to rid the world of the Saxon organization as if it was his personal mission. Ivar’s cruelty extended beyond just Saxon’s. He was cruel to those he claimed to love, using his brother’s humanity against them at every turn.

Ragnar loved his youngest son and he knew that his behavior was a result of Aslaug’s coddling and Ivar’s own insecurities. When Ivar was a boy, Ragnar told him that everyone would always underestimate him. Not only that, but people ridiculed Ivar for his disability. Less so now than when he was younger but scars of childhood never truly left him. He carried those words with him. Cripple, lame, disabled, lesser, inferior. He wore them as a shield.

Ivar’s cruelty was a defense he used to keep people from hurting him and it worked, but it also kept people from loving him. Ragnar hoped to change that.

Nearly twenty years after she bore him his last son, Aslaug was taken from them. The coroner said it was an accident, these things happen, but Ragnar didn’t believe him. A bullet to her heart with her back turned was not an accident.

Ragnar and his brother Rollo spent the better part of a year tracking down the individual responsible. In the end, it turned out to be a rogue soldier for the Saxon army. A warrior who wanted to prove himself to his kings. Ecbert and Aelle didn’t claim him and assured Ragnar that he could do what he wanted with no retribution from either one of them.

Ragnar did but the relationship between the Northmen and the Saxon organizations had never been the same. Neither had Ragnar’s sons.

He gazed at them now. Björn, standing proud and tall in front of his father. Ubbe standing beside him. Hvitserk and Sigurd quickly helped themselves to Ragnar’s liquor shelf. Ivar was the only one missing.

Ivar was the purpose of this meeting. Ragnar had recently made a deal with a powerful man and Ivar was the lynchpin.

He stood from his desk and faced his four oldest sons. “Shall we begin then.”

#ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #vikings #alex hogh andersen #ivar x oc #ragnar lothbrok #lagertha #bjorn ironside #ubbe lothbrok #sigurd x oc #crime #mafia au #modern au #arranged marriage #come and lay the roses #hvitserk #aslaug

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years ago

Text

Unexpected: Part 3

Summary: Thickheaded idiot Ivar finally realizes he’s in love while going to the market with her to get her new clothes and wise NPC (tm) gives him some advice. Aslaug takes her in for an interrogation à la overbearing mother… More smut ofc, but it’s a bit brief this time!

Beginning Notes: the Brísingamen is a necklace that was given to Freya in Norse mythology. From the etymology of the word, it’s possible that the necklace was meant to be made of amber.

Taglist: @bragisrunes @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @alicedopey @batmandallyboy (hmu to be added!)

Masterlist | Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 | requests are OPEN!

He woke up next to her this morning. Ivar can barely process it. When she moved in her sleep, he’d woken up, and he’d gotten to hold her while she was still sleeping, running a hand through her hair carefully.

She’d smiled at him when she had woken up, kissed him, gotten dressed halfway, and then Ivar had ruined her efforts and they were late to breakfast.

Now that she was his, she didn’t have to serve anyone else. Unlike Margrethe, she doesn’t dare sit down at the table, instead pouring his drink and refilling his mother’s and brother’s cups as well. Ivar glares at Sigurd, who leans towards her just to tease him.

Ivar knows that he is more interested in men than women, and that he’s fucking one ever since Hvitserk and Ubbe are taking up all of Margrethe’s time, but he still clenches his fist in jealousy under the table.

After breakfast, they head out alone. Sigurd leaves first, grabbing his Oud before he disappears to Gods know where, and Hvitserk and Ubbe leave soon after, saying that they’ll spar a bit. Ivar doubts it. Then again, his intentions aren’t the purest either.

She follows him dutifully to the market, carrying an empty basket. Before they can buy anything, Ivar spots Helga, who hands him a small vial. She smiles at her brightly.

“This is for your legs. It’s a new recipe, so tell me if anything is off.” She says, looking at Ivar.

Ivar nods, and she’s quick to take it, putting it in her basket.

“Do you need anything?” Helga asks, turning to her. She shakes her head.

“Bodil’s fever is gone, thank the Gods. It would’ve broken Estrid’s heart if her last daughter died too. That Frankish slave, Lothar, he cut himself quite deep, but the others already shared some of your old supplies.” She replies.

“That’s good. If you need anything, don’t be shy to come to me.” Helga says, walking away. Then, Ivar turns to her.

“How do you know Helga?” he asks.

“She helps us a lot. Whenever she can spare her supplies, she gives them to us. There’s a thrall that used to be in Floki’s service who learned from her. She’s a very kind woman.”

“That is true.” Ivar nods. He didn’t know Helga helped the slaves, but it’s her character to do such a strange thing.

The first stall they stop at is a fabric stall. The merchant looks like he comes from Rus, and his heavy accent confirms Ivar’s expectations.

He offers Ivar a good deal on a ready-made dress and a fur, but when Ivar turns to her, her eyes are wide.

“That is too expensive.” She says decidedly. The merchant immediately tells her he’s unwilling to haggle, but she shrugs, choosing a plain fabric instead. Ivar is sure it’s meant for aprons, but the light blue color suits her, so he hands over his coin.

“You need a pelt for when it gets colder.” He tells her. She looks uncomfortable at the thought, but nods.

“But not from this stall. This is luxury clothing he’s selling.”

Ivar lets her lead him away from the stalls on the main road, and towards a tiny stall that sells pelts as well as a few vegetables that have definitely been grown in the sorry soil of Kattegat.

She seems to know the vendor, who looks surprised at seeing a prince at her stall. Ivar chooses the fur, and she immediately begins haggling with the woman, before they settle on a price, she deems reasonable. Before they leave, Ivar spots a deep green, but still plain dress.

“That one too.” He tells the woman.

“You really don’t have to.” She insists, but the vendor readily holds it out for Ivar to inspect.

“No discussion.” Ivar tells her. “You need more than one proper dress.”

“I can make at least three out of this fabric.” She replies but lets him buy the dress.

They walk back onto the main road together, and she offers to go home. She’s blushing as she looks at the green dress, and Ivar can tell that she can’t believe the amount of money he just spent on her.

“I want to keep looking.” Ivar tells her. The blacksmith lives next to the stalls, and Ivar wants to pick up an axe he commissioned. Then, he wants to go to the stall of a Francian who sells wares from the Mediterranean. His mother loves oranges, so Ivar always goes to see if they have any.

While he’s at the blacksmith, he gives her money to go to the Francian. He follows soon after, only to see that she’s still at the stall.

“I don’t sell to thralls.” The merchant tells her as Ivar comes closer.

“It’s not for me, and I have the money. My master sent me to buy them.” She explains. “And I can take the bad ones off your hands, if you’d like.”

“Stop begging and buy off of someone else.” The merchant hisses.

“Is there a problem?” Ivar asks, stepping next to her. His axe is still in his hand.

“Prince Ivar!” he exclaims. Turning to her, he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me who your master was?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” She presses out, and Ivar can see the barely concealed anger in the way she clenches her jaw, and her knuckles turn white on the handle of her basket.

The merchant hands over the oranges, and then turns around and gives her another crate.

“The bad ones.” He says. Ivar looks at them and sees a few with marks, some with a little mold on them. He would never eat them, but she smiles brightly and thanks the merchant.

“Why did you ask him for the foul ones?” he asks her as soon as they are out of the rude merchant’s hearing.

“They’re not foul.” She laughs. “Just a bit old. These stalls are luxury stalls, so they usually don’t even sell to random thralls, but once, Bodil found a mandarin after the stall had closed down. She brought it to the thrall quarters and shared it with all of us. We kept the peel because it smelled so good. Since then, we’ve been trying to get more, whether that’s the old ones or something that fell off his cart.”

Ivar thinks he understands. There’s one last stop he wants to make today, but before they make it, she spots a young girl. Ivar follows her gaze. It’s another thrall, who waves to her. The girl can’t be older than seven. Unsure, she glances to him.

“Go.” Ivar tells her, and she almost runs off, taking the young girl into her arms. He sees them chatter and the girl grabs an orange from the crate, holding it up high over her head triumphantly. She reminds Ivar of Hvitserk. Ivar turns to the stall he wants to visit.

“I want to buy a necklace.” He tells the merchant. They know each other well. She’s an old woman, who was already selling her jewelry when Aslaug came to Kattegat. Ivar has been going to her whenever he wants to buy his mother a present.

“For your mother?” she asks, and Ivar shakes his head.

“For the girl?” she guesses, and Ivar stares at the ground.

“Just a simple one. With a stone or so.” He tells her. She turns around, going through one of her displays, until she finds what she’s looking for.

It’s a simple band with an amber pendant she hands him, and Ivar finds it almost painfully on the nose.

“Would you like a ring to go with it?” she asks in an almost teasing voice, and it’s only because Ivar has known her all her life that there are no consequences.

“What would I need that for?” he asks coolly.

“I’ve never seen you with that girl before, but I can tell when men are in love. It’s why I sell so much.”

“Secrets of the trade?” Ivar asks sarcastically.

“Precisely that. Tell her you’re in love. And free her if you haven’t already. I’ve heard nothing bad about that girl, and it’s obvious to me she loves you back.”

Ivar nodded, handing over the money before quickly leaving the stall, necklace clutched in his hand. She enjoyed gossip, entertaining his mother whenever she came to her stall, Ivar knew that. She also enjoyed making money. Was it really true that she liked him?

She’s spinning the girl around as Ivar comes closer, before she hugs her and turns around to find him. She almost bumps into Ivar.

“Oh sorry.” She apologizes. “I’m a bit dizzy. You know, from all the turning.”

Her hairdo is dangerously close to falling apart, and Ivar wants to fix it for her later.

“Who was that?” Ivar asks.

“That’s Bodil. I gave her the oranges so she can share with her family and friends.”

“What about you?”

“I already got fabric and a dress, AND a fur coat. I don’t need more luxuries.” She shrugs.

Shakily, Ivar grabbed the amber pendant. “I still want to give you this.”

She accepts it carefully, as if it’ll crack if she cradles it too harshly. “Thank you, Ivar. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Then, she hugs him, in the middle of the main road. Ivar freezes, not knowing what to do. Carefully, he lays his head on her shoulder.

They walk into the Great Hall the moment Ubbe and Hvitserk return, and Ivar shoots her a regretful glance as his brothers pull him away.

“I’ll clean your room and change your bedding.” She calls after him, disappearing with her new things.

Aslaug’s POV:

Ivar and his thrall had come back from the market just in time for Aslaug to watch her disappear into his room. She didn’t trust this woman. Perhaps she would use Ivar’s trust to steal something he wouldn’t miss. Perhaps she was as ambitious as Margrethe.

Aslaug was going to find out.

The thrall didn’t notice her at first. She was pulling the linens off of Ivar’s bed, her back turned to the door. Only when she turned around did she see Aslaug.

“My Queen.” She said, bowing her head. “Prince Ivar bought you oranges. I’ve had them brought to the kitchens. Is there anything specific you’d like them with?”

“What are your intentions with my son?”

“I don’t have any intentions.” She replied.

“Why did you sleep with him?” Aslaug continued.

“I thought he was attractive.”

“Despite his legs?”

“I’m not as superficial as some other women.” She said calmly.

“Would you like to be free one day?” Aslaug asked

“Which thrall doesn’t?”

“Do you love him?” Aslaug asked finally. There’s silence from this quick-witted thrall. It lasts too long to be a lie. She doesn’t answer Aslaug at all. The queen grabbed the thrall’s jaw, making her look up at her. Aslaug noticed how young she looked. She couldn’t be much older than Ivar.

She remembered her vision. Aslaug had dreamt that Ivar would marry a thrall one day. She had also dreamt that Ivar would die at sea before he would marry. Her visions did not help her. They only conflicted each other.

“He cannot free you.” Aslaug told her.

“Being his thrall has already made me happier.” She replied.

“He’ll marry someone else. A worthy princess or an earl’s daughter. Not you.”

For a moment, Aslaug sees her façade drop. A second of hurt and jealousy. Then it was over, and Aslaug let go of her jaw.

“Break his heart.” She told the girl, “And you’ll have his family lining up to kill you before he does.”

“I know.” She replied, as if that didn’t scare her. Then, the thrall continued cleaning the bed, as if their conversation had never happened.

Ivar’s POV:

She was talking to Hvitserk. Why the fuck was she talking to Hvitserk?

He creeps closer, trying to make out what she’s saying. Hvitserk’s laughing at something she just told him, and it makes Ivar’s blood boil.

“I can teach them how to make the bread.” Ivar can finally hear her say. What?

Hvitserk sees him, and smiles at Ivar brightly. Absentmindedly, he hands her his cup, and Ivar wants to start a fight with him for disrespecting his woman. Except that she is a thrall, and all she’ll ever be is his property.

“I was just asking her about the bread she made. Now that she isn’t in the kitchen, it’ll be the old bread again.” Hvitserk explains.

“Stay away from her.” Ivar tells him, before going to her.

“Jealous?” Hvitserk teases.

“Shut up.” Ivar almost roars over his shoulder.

“If it’s alright I’ll teach the others in the kitchen how to make the bread sometime next week.” She offers.

“I don’t want you talking to Hvitserk.” Ivar says.

“He’s your brother. I’m bound to see him when I’m living in your home.”

Ivar’s hand shoots up, resting on her neck.

“He’s good with most women. I’m not.” Ivar presses out.

“And I am not most women.” She replies quietly. “I thought we’d already established that.”

Ivar could feel the anger creeping up on him. Suddenly, every man in the room was staring at her. The two shieldmaidens making out in the corner seemed to be waving her over, asking them to join. Sigurd was there, Hvitserk was there, Ubbe was there, even Bjorn was there.

They all look like they were going to take her from him. And the worst part was, Ivar knows they could.

“Go to my room. Now. Take that dress off.” He tells her, before letting go of her neck.

He stays until he can’t bear it anymore before he walks towards their room. Hvitserk throws him a look that used to be reserved for teasing Ubbe, but no one else in the Great Hall notices.

When he gets to their, no, his room, the dress is barely over her shoulders.

“That was fast.” She comments. Wordlessly, Ivar grabs her, pushing her against the door. Her back hits it with a quiet thud, and she lets him tear the dress down her shoulders. The necklace rests between her breasts, a reminder that she’s his.

His fingers are on her, groping greedily because Ivar wants to somehow show her that he loves her, and that he wants her to be his – in a way that she cannot be.

“You’re mine.” Ivar says harshly, “Only mine.”

She nods frantically, and Ivar knows that, in any other situation, she would’ve said something snarky.

“Say it.” He demands. He can feel the desperation inside him growing, he wants her to tell him she feels the same way. He needs her too.

“Yours.” She breathes out, the word ending in a moan when his hand finds her pussy.

She repeats it from her own volition, over and over as Ivar leads her to his bed and sucks dark splotches onto her skin. Her hands trail down his chest, towards his breeches and Ivar lets her do it, because this is something he can trust her with.

Her hand finds his cock and she pumps up and down, until Ivar is groaning into her neck, almost ready to beg her. When he pushes into her, it feels just as good as the first time, but this time, Ivar isn’t tense, only angry.

He wants to be gentle with her, so he kisses her slowly, lets his touch become softer. He still squeezes her neck and grabs her hips, because that’s as gentle as Ivar will ever get. When he’s done, he pulls out, using his fingers to get her to finish too.

They lie side by side in silence, and Ivar can hear the sounds of the feast taking place behind his door. He wonders if they heard them. A part of him wants them to know that he can do it. Another part wants her to be his secret.

Her hand finds his. She holds it as carefully as her necklace of amber, staring up at the ceiling. Ivar looks at her, but she doesn’t notice, and for the first time, he sees her. He sees a reflection of his anger in her. It’s hidden much better, but it’s there.

“Why are you angry?” he asks her. She hesitates, as if she’s considering lying to him.

“The merchant.” She replies.

“I can have him killed if you want.” Ivar offers. She shakes her head, beginning to smile.

“And what would that do?”

“He wouldn’t be able to disrespect you without a head.”

“It wouldn’t change anything. There’ll always be people treating me like I am worth less than cattle. It’s stupid to be angry at them, but I can’t help it. Even if someone freed me, I’d always be the former thrall.” She explains. Ivar knows that he cannot understand fully what she means, and that makes him angrier than before.

“They wouldn’t disrespect you if you were a queen.” Ivar blurts out. She turns to face him, a hand running through his hair.

“My Ivar.” She says, and his heart skips a beat. “We both know that won’t happen. You love your mother far too much.”

I love you too. Ivar wants to say, because he can hear it between the words she does say, I love you and I’d break my promise to my mother for you. I think.

“You’re the only one in the world who understands my anger.” He says instead. It has to be enough, for now.

#ivar #ivar x reader #vikings #ivar the boneless #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #ivar x oc #ivar x y/n #angry ivar #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar smut #vikings fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk #ubbe #sigurd #aslaug

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heathenarmyimagines · 6 years ago

Photo

Title: Alliance

Summary: The princes show their guest around Kattegat and she shows the quite a bit too.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One

The princess slept amazingly well considering that she was in a completely different country, but she was also exhausted from the journey.

As were her servants who were meant to wake her so that she could eat her first meal with the royal family.

The family that was waiting for the exotic princess in the great hall right now.

‘Where is she?’ Aslaug asked.

‘She’s had her first long journey, she is probably sleeping.’ Ragnar said.

‘We should send someone to wake her.’ Ubbe said.

‘I’ll go get her.’ Hvitserk said eagerly.

‘You will not, her guards will see your ill intentions miles away.’ Ragnar dismissed.

‘And then you will be in pieces that are miles apart.’ Sigurd laughed.

‘Ivar, you go and get her.’ Aslaug said before taking a drink of ail.

‘What? Why am I the one?’ Ivar asked.

‘You look the least threatening, and it was you she seemed to take a liking to.’ Ubbe said.

With a great sigh Ivar slid out if his seat and began to crawl toward the guest chamber that they had prepared for the dark skinned princess.

As he crawled he thought of the princess.

He thought about what an oddity she was, not just in her appearance but her personality as well.

While her dark skin and thick curly hair was certainly captivating her personality was what really affected him.

Ivar had expected to hate her; she did not believe in the Gods, the true Gods. Sven never told any of them about the religion of the land he had found so Ivar assumed that they were Christian.

How he hated Christians.

But she wasn't Christian, nor was she Viking. Instead, she came speaking of things called spirits.

Of course he knew it was nonsense, only the Gods were real, but the idea that when he did die he would be evolved into a powerful being was interesting.

At last he was at the door and like his brother assumed they let him in with no issue.

He opened the door and saw that the princess was indeed in her bed with her servants.

'Princess?’ Ivar called.

Suddenly Ivar had to jerk to the right to avoid a dagger that had come flying at him. Had it not been for his quick reflexes he had no doubt he'd be dead right now.

He looked up and what he saw made his eyes go wide.

Princess (Y/N) was now sitting up straight, so were her startled slaves.

And they were all bare, at least from the waist up, that much Ivar could see, and oh he saw.

Ivar had never seen a woman’s breast other than his mother’s as a child, and now he was looking at three pairs of dark skinned beauties.

‘Ah, prince Ivar. I am sorry, you frightened me.’ the royal woman yawned as she stretched, unaware that Ivar hadn’t even blinked yet since he had seen her.

Her two girls got out of the bed and they were indeed completely naked, and that made Ivar snap out of his daze enough to regain the sense to look away as they dressed their princess before they put on their own clothes.

‘What brought you into my chambers?’ (Y/N) asked sleepily as she walked over to the bowl to wash her face.

‘It-it is time for breakfast, we were waiting on you to join us.’ Ivar stuttered keeping his eyes low even though he knew she was dressed now.

‘Oh I am sorry to keep you all waiting, I must have overslept. Cold weather always made me sleepy, the long journey only added to my tiredness. Let us be on our way.’ she said.

Ivar lead the way, staying quiet, not by any choice of his own. He didn’t know what to say to her after he had seen what he just did.

‘Princess, I assume you slept well.’ Ragnar greeted.

‘I did, my apologies for being so late.’ she smiled formally.

‘All is forgiven, please eat and tell us what you have planned for today.’ the king smiled.

One her servants placed a plate of food in front of her and she thanked the girl before sending her and the other one to the kitchen to eat.

‘You let them eat at the same time as you?’ Hvitserk asked as he watched them go.

‘They do also need to eat, last I checked servants were human. Humans who need food and sleep and other basic things.’ she said as she ate.

‘They are slaves.’ Aslaug said.

‘No, in my kingdom we do not have slaves, we have servants. People who freely choose to serve in exchange for payment or food and shelter.’ the African said seriously.

‘You are too kind to the lesser people...princess.’ the queen said with hard eyes.

‘I don’t believe there is any such thing as a...lesser person, my queen. We all die and we all join the spirits, and you never know who stands between your life and your death. Best not to have too many people who want you dead...especially not the people who make your food and pour your drinks.’ she smiled falsely.

Everyone’s eyes went to the queen and they held their breath in anticipation. No one really spoke back to her. She was the queen after all, not to mention she was the only person Ivar cared for and he was quite the guard dog.

‘Perhaps you are right. All of you to the kitchen, eat before you get started on your chores.’ Aslaug directed.

The thralls all seemed to be hesitant and unsure, but eventually they all headed out of the hall and toward the kitchen.

Complete silence.

No one, not even Ivar himself had ever had the ability to change Aslaug’s opinion on anything.

More and more Ivar was finding more things about this woman that just fascinated him.

The princess smiled at the queen as she ate, and Aslaug smiled as well behind her chalice; for a moment there was a comfortable silence.

‘So princess, what do you plan on doing today?’ Ragnar asked.

‘Well I plan to walk through the town, see how the common people live as I did back at home everyday.’

‘If you are going to explore the village I do implore you to let my sons accompany you.’ the king suggested.

‘If you insist, but I hope my bringing one of my guards doesn’t offend you. I do not go anywhere without her.’ the princess said.

As his father spoke to the princess Ivar’s mind was still stuck on the sight of her naked upper half and how attractive he found her. How strange it was to find someone attractive, sure Ivar knew that some people were beautiful, but he never felt the attraction.

‘Ivar.’

He looked over and saw Hvitserk leaning over and whispering to him.

‘Yes brother?’ Ivar whispered back, looking to make sure the Princess and his father didn’t overhear them.

‘You have been quiet since you came back to the table, you are only quiet when angry or confused.’ his brother said.

‘So are you confused or angry?’ Ubbe asked.

His brothers really were quite the nuisance sometimes, they were idiots but they did know him too well.

‘I saw her.’ he whispered.

‘Saw?’ Hvitserk questioned.

Ivar rolled his eyes and as subtle as he could he slid his hand across his chest and raised his brows.

‘I saw.’ he emphasized.

Hvitserk’s eyes widened in shock before he tapped Sigurd and whispering in his ear, then Sigurd’s eyes grew as well.

Sigurd and Hvitserk stood up and pulled Ivar from his seat.

‘Where are you going?’ their mother asked.

‘Just making a quick stop to the market, we will be back to walk the princess through the town.’ Sigurd lied as they carried Ivar away.

‘Ubbe come on!’ Hvitserk yelled over his shoulder.

The oldest prince sighed and picked up a piece of bread and followed after his brothers.

No one paid any attention to the princes, they had been watching the boys carry Ivar through these markets for years.

Hvitserk and Sigurd sat Ivar down on his usual boulder that sat almost right in the middle of the markets. His mother had it placed there so Ivar could sit and watch the merchants, something that often brought him peace.

‘What all did you see?’ Hvitserk asked eagerly, Sigurd looking just as excited for his answer.

‘Just her chest.’ Ivar replied, not liking the nervous feeling he got remembering his morning’s event.

‘What did they look like?’ Hvitserk pressed.

‘They...were brown like the rest of her but her nipples were darker.’ Ivar tried to explain.

‘Like a well cooked piece of meat, and all you want is to take hold of them and see if they tastes as good and tender they look.’ Ubbe spoke as he sat by his brother on the boulder.

‘You have seen her as well?’ Ivar asked, unsure of why he suddenly felt a bubbling anger building in his belly.

‘I saw everything, I went to speak with her last night after the feast.’

‘Oi! You boar, I thought you had no intention to marry her!’ Hvitserk accused.

‘I don’t, and I told her this...I didn’t lay with her you idiots.’ Ubbe explained.

‘How could you see such a woman and not bed her?’ Sigurd asked, as if the idea was completely mad.

‘She is our guest and a princess from a country that Sven says can be very violent; she isn’t a thrall I can command to get in bed with me.’ Ubbe reasoned.

‘I’d do my damn best to get her in bed, just one night.’ Hvitserk said.

‘As would I, did you see the way she danced at the feast? Beautiful.’ Sigurd swooned.

‘Listen to you two. The way you talk I would think you want to marry her.’ the eldest spoke before he took a bite of his bread.

‘Is that what you want brothers?’ Ivar asked, hoping his anger was hidden behind his calm voice.

Of course it wasn’t.

Ivar’s brother knew him. They knew he was always angry and his voice always calmed down to chilling levels when he was truly pissed.

‘Of course not, I’m far too young to be sworn to one woman forever.’ Hvitserk dismissed.

‘Neither do I, but I do want to bed her. I want to hear her cry in pleasure while I’m on top of her.’ Sigurd said with a wicked grin.

‘Good luck young prince, the women of her kingdom are quite dominant.’ Sven said as he walked up to the boulder.

‘Sven.’ Hvitserk said nervously.

There was no secret that their father’s friend had taken a great liking to the princess, seeing her as a daughter almost. Seeing how he had lost his first and only daughter to the plague that had killed their own half sister Gida it wouldn’t surprise the princes if he was protective over the girl.

‘We did not mean to-’ Sigurd began to apologize.

‘No need son, (Y/N) is a woman and you are men. All I wanted to say was you will all have quite the challenge ahead of you if all you wish to do is bed her. She keeps her guard up and is only here considering marriage for the sake of her people. (Y/N) has taken no interest in any man in her life.’ Sven said.

This made the Sons of Ragnar go quiet for second before they all groaned in disappointment.

‘Great, so she prefers the company of women...like Lagertha.’ Hvitserk complained.

‘She did sleep naked with her servants.’ Ivar spoke up.

‘So you saw three beautiful naked brown women this morning when you went to breakfast?’ Sigurd accused.

‘...her’s looked the best to me.’ Ivar confessed.

‘Wait a moment, how did you know her women were dominant Sven?’ Ubbe asked.

The old man smile and nudged his head toward the arch of the great hall, inside they could see (Y/N)’s personal guard, Bintu Ivar recalled.

‘You didn’t?’ Ivar grinned.

‘She’ll have you believe that much, best pretend you believe her. Unless you want to see how good she is with that spear.’ Sven laughed.

The men all shared a laugh at the old man’s tale of sexual victory before he told them that the princess was getting dressed for her walk through Kattegat.

Ubbe put Ivar on his back and they all headed back to great hall where they waited for the princess and her servants.

‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting a second time this morning.’

They all looked up to see the princess and were just stunned by her appearance, even though the clothes she wore were not nearly as revealing as what the wore last night it was still gorgeous.

The dress went down to her ankles and the design was so unique and different from anything they had ever seen. The dress had no sleeves and it seemed only her breast held it up, around her shoulders was a shawl like thing that matched the dress perfectly. Her hair had been pulled into a ponytail and the rest was wrapped up and around her neck was a beautiful long pearl necklace.

‘We are happy to wait for such a beauty.’ Hvitserk said.

The princess smiled at the compliment before they all went on their way.

‘Was this one of your duties in your kingdom?’ Sigurd asked.

‘Yes. Every day I had to walk the whole village and make sure every single person was well. Make sure no one is begging or stealing, check with the healers to see if any dangerous illnesses had spread.’ she answered.

‘Why did it matter?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Because if there are beggars and thieves then that means there is poverty, and poverty can ruin a kingdom if left unattended. It can cause an uprising among the people and dethrone a royal lineage and a government.’

As she spoke Ivar looked around and saw a few beggars sitting in front of the bakers and he saw (Y/N) see it as well.

She excused herself from her conversation with his brothers and walked straight over to the group of poor men.

‘Hello, what are your names?’ she asked politely.

‘My name is Olif.’ one said.

‘I am Tristian.’ said the next.

‘Erik the Watcher.’ the oldest introduced.

‘Why are you called a watcher?’ she asked.

‘I have been watching this town for years and years. I watched even Ragnar and his brother receive their armrings. I watched this town go from less than twenty houses to a great marketing capital.’ the old man said.

‘That is amazing, tell me would you all like to have a private lunch with me in the hall today? I will personally cook you a meal from my home, I would love to speak with you all a bit more if I can.’ she offered.

‘Even a fool as old as me wouldn’t turn down a meal cooked by a princess.’ the man smiled.

The princess smiled and called to one of her servants to bring her the bag she was carrying, once she had it she pulled out a half loaf of bread and some meat and cheese.

‘I hope these will hold you all over until I meet with you for lunch.’

The old man smiled and gratefully accepted the food, placing a kiss on her hand.

‘Thank you princess.’ they all said.

With a sad sigh she excused herself and returned to the princes and continued her walk.

‘You are very kind princess.’ Hvitserk commented.

‘I’m not kind, I just know the value of the love of my people; and if that man has seen as much as he claims he can give me a very detailed history of this place. Reveal the real story and the secrets.’

Onward they walked through the town, they saw the merchants and the princess seemed to possess an almost childlike curiosity.

She looked at every stand and spoke with every merchant briefly about how they liked selling here and what were some issues they had.

‘By the time we actually get through the market everyone here will know her personally.’ Ubbe said.

‘That is the plan, how can one protect her people without knowing them, and what loyalty do you owe a stranger.’ Bintu said from where she stood beside them.

She was very quiet around the princes, so quiet they almost forgot the giant woman was walking with them.

Ivar had been watching her talk to a woman who was selling fabric and in that moment the sun hit her just right to make it seem like she was glowing like a Goddess.

That very thought scared the cripple near to death, he never knew anyone that he could imagine as being godly other than his beautiful mother.

Immediately Ivar shook away the thought and stopped watching her completely, at last the princess began walking to the next stand.

The blacksmiths.

‘Hello.’ she smiled.

‘Hello miss.’

‘I was wondering if you had any issues running your business here.’ she asked.

‘Nothing other than usual stuff… like getting good able workers.’ the man laughed.

‘Watch it old timer.’ Ivar spoke up with a raised brow.

Again the old man laughed, walking over to stand beside where Ivar was sitting in the dirt.

‘Do not worry Ivar, just a joke. We both know you are the best of my boys.’ the blacksmith said, placing a hand on Ivar’s shoulder.

This seemed to interest the princess greatly.

‘You work, prince Ivar?’ she asked.

‘I can’t very well wait for this old man to repair something every time I break it. Besides his eyes are as dull the weapons...after he’s sharpened them.’ Ivar grinned.

The others oohed and jeered in teasing while their brother and his mentor bounced back insults together, none of them paying attention to the princess that was watching them.

‘What are you thinking princess?’ Bintu asked.

‘I am thinking nothing.’ she said coyly.

‘Liar, I know you well enough to see through you.’ Bintu sighed.

‘I already knew coming here it would only be under extreme horrible conditions that I returned home unmarried. These men are not extremely horrible...strange looking of course, but they certainly have unique spirits.’ (Y/N) confessed.

‘You seem to like one’s spirit more that the others.’ the guard teased.

‘Leave me be Bintu, I simply find him interesting.’ she blushed.

‘You are interested.’ Bintu laughed.

‘Hush you, I’m supposed to look serious in front of the princes.’ the princess was whining now.

‘Oh fine, but who knows maybe he likes the playful kind.’

‘He doesn’t strike me as playful.’ the girl replied.

‘We’ll see if he can strike you when you train with him.’ Bintu seriously, the lighthearted atmosphere gone in a second.

It was almost an unspoken law in your home, no royal woman should marry a man that can not best or match her in battle. This tradition was strongly followed by women warriors, it was why Bintu was unmarried. Despite her beauty she refused to marry a weak man that could not protect her should she ever be in a state where she couldn’t defend herself.

After being with Bintu for her entire life the princess had come to have the same belief, she wanted to see more than how the princes trained.

She needed to see who was worthy of the sacred matrimonial fight.

‘Go on you royal little brats, we working folk don’t get breaks.’ the blacksmith said, hitting Ivar on the head playfully before he returned to his shop.

‘May I apologize for my mentor, he is so easily distracted in his old age.’ Ivar said, loud enough for the man to hear.

‘Piss off Ivar.’ was the reply.

With their graceful dismissal the royal band went on their way, finally making it out of the markets, it was a wonder (Y/N)’s servants could hold all the free favors the merchants had given her.

The walk through the housing areas went much faster thank the Gods, as they walked the brothers asked more questions about Tunisia.

‘When Sven returned with that scar we all thought he had found trouble, but we see all your people have it, except you.’ Hvitserk said.

‘We bleed the people of our land, they bleed on our land and in doing so they pledge loyalty to it and the royal family. Royals are not bled because they are sworn to protect the land and its people.’ (Y/N) answered.

‘When do you bleed them?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Only when the parents bring them to us when they feel their child is old enough to understand what it means to bleed.’

‘What do you do for your children when they come of age?’ the princess asked.

‘We have a Theen for our boys when they are about twelve or thirteen, we give them an armring. Anything that they swear on this ring must be truthful and any pledges must be honored, otherwise they will never get into Valhalla.’ Ubbe explained hold out his arm to show his ring.

‘And the girls? I already know you have woman warriors, do they have a ring so their words are sacred as well?’

‘No...we have shieldmaidens that fight with us, but they don’t receive the armring because they are not expected to be warriors at that age.’ Ivar said.

The princes had never seen as much annoyance in one woman’s face as they did on (Y/N)’s, her eyes rolling made it even more obvious.

‘Well let’s hope your women are honest, sense nothing forces them to be.’ she said.

Finally by lunch time the walk was over, after the princes explained that the town was far too large to see it all in one day.

‘Shame, we will go out farther tomorrow.’ she said in disappointment.

At the great hall Ragnar and Aslaug were sitting in their thrones.

‘How was your walk princess?’ Aslaug asked.

‘Very informative, in fact I will be having a few guest for lunch soon. I should be headed to the kitchen now.’ said the guest.

‘Why?’ asked the queen in complete confusion.

‘To make lunch personally for my guests, but do not worry I will make enough for everyone.’ she smiled before she headed to the kitchen and one servant went to follow while the other took the things from the market to the guest chamber.

‘What did she mean by informative?’ Ragnar asked, looking at Ivar.

The relationship between Ivar and his father was strange but it worked for them. Even though Ivar knew that his father had tried to abandon him, and it hurt him, he still loved and idolized his great father. Ragnar felt a great deal of guilt for what he had done to Ivar and to earn his own forgiveness he worked strategically closer with Ivar than his other sons.

‘She spoke with all the merchants about their business and spoke with a few beggars.’ Ivar reported.

‘So complete nonsense.’ Aslaug scoffed.

‘Not completely mother, her reasoning was well founded I assure you. I think we can learn a few things about governing our people from her ideals.’ Ivar said, surprising everyone.

‘The princess believes the best way to keep power and peace among the people is to know and take care of them. Apparently her main duty as the princess in her homeland is walking through the village and ensuring her people are content.’ Ivar started.

‘And you think we should do such a thing?’ Ragnar asked.

‘I will not make a decision for you father, but it is good to know your people and their struggles.’

Ragnar hummed before telling his sons to wash before lunch.

They all headed for their chambers except one.

Ivar waited until the others had closed their doors before he headed to the kitchens, there was no way the princess was actually going to cook for beggars.

He crawled silently to the kitchen and quietly opened the door and was surprised to find that she was indeed personally cooking with the servants.

‘How is the soup coming?’ the princess asked while she was rolling out balls of dough.

‘It is ready, the cooks had everything chopped already so we really just heated it really.’ said her servant.

‘Thank the cooks and be sure they get plenty of soup and fufu.’

‘Fufu?’ one of the thralls asked.

The princess smiled sweetly and held up a dough balls and dipped it in the large pot of soup and handed it the thrall.

‘Bite.’ she instructed.

The slave took a bite and her eyes widened as she moaned at the taste.

‘It’s delicious! This bread taste just like-’

‘Potatoes. I made potato fufu since there was such a large amount of spuds available here. Do you think the others will like it?’

‘They certainly will, thank you for allowing me to taste it ma’am. You are very kind...kindness isn’t something thralls often find.’ she smiled.

Ivar saw such a sadness in (Y/N)’s eyes as she held the slave’s cheek gently.

‘Please know this...I wish I could free every slave there was, but I cannot. All I have to offer you is my kindness...and I am sorry it is not enough.’

The girl brought up her hand to rest on top of the princess’s hand that still held her cheek.

‘It is more than I have been given...and more than I dare to ask for.’ she smiled.

(Y/N) took a moment to compose herself before she went back to her original task.

‘Leena, would you please go and help set the table? I’m sure the others have pulled out the table by now and ask for a second table for my guest.’ she said.

Ivar quickly realized he needed to get away from the kitchen door and fast because that servant girl was already coming his way.

He started to crawl away as fast as he could, only making it a few feet before the door opened and the servant...Leena came and saw him.

Ivar put his finger to his lips, asking her to keep quiet and not announce his presence to the others.

The servant nodded and closed the door behind her.

Ivar sighed in relief and thanked her.

‘Why were you...seeing us?’ the girl asked, clearly she wasn’t as fluent in Norse as her princess.

‘I wanted to see if she really was cooking for those men.’ Ivar answered.

‘My princess keeps her word...always.’

‘I am seeing that, doesn’t make it any easier to believe. A person who keeps their word is very rare and hard to come by.’ Ivar said before he finally began crawling to his room to wash up.

He had his usual thrall, one his mother had assigned him when he was a child, a woman that had been washing and clothing him his whole life.

Ivar didn’t know her name.

Only today did he realize how wrong that was, that the woman had been at his side and and at his beck and call his since he was boy and he never bothered to ask her name.

What did he need to know her name for? The woman was just another slave, she was just there to serve him. Nothing more and she would be easy to replace...so why did not knowing her name make him feel like such shit?

As she was dressing him Ivar couldn’t take the feeling anymore.

‘What is your name?’

The woman stopped as she was putting on his socks and stared at him in shock.

‘I am Trya, my prince.’ she said.

‘Trya.’ Ivar hummed.

‘Never again will I call you anything else other than your name...Trya...you deserve that much.’ he said.

In the great hall the trio of beggars were reluctantly standing in the archway unsure of entering, the king and queen staring at them only made them more uneasy.

‘Please do come in, You are guests of my guest.’ Ragnar invited.

In they came and sat at the only table available...and just as the silence became uncomfortable in walked the princess and her servants.

‘Hello, did you wait long?’ she asked.

‘Not at all.’ Olif said.

‘Felt like forever.’ Ragnar whispered.

One of the servants placed bowls of soup in the men while the other placed bowls in front of the king and queen.

‘This is Fufu, my favorite dish and one of the few things I know how to cook.’ she explained.

‘Thank you so much Princess, I am sure it will be delicious.’ Tristian said.

‘You are welcome, just break off a piece of the fufu and dip it into the soup.’

Olif was the first to try the foreign dish, and he was watched by everyone, including the royals.

‘It is delicious.’ the man said excitedly.

The others saw his enthusiasm and also began to try the meal, and they all seemed to enjoy it greatly.

It was at that moment the princes entered the hall and took their seats.

Bowls of soup and fufu were placed in front of them, their parents telling them how to eat the strange food.

While the viking royals ate at the high table princess (Y/N) sat with the beggars.

‘If you do not mind, do tell me how you ended up where you currently are.’

‘Well I guess for me it started when I was just a boy back in Hedeby… the earl was having disputes with the earl in Yotaland over some trades I think. I remember there being less money...then there less food. I didn’t know it then but I’ve come to learn wars are expensive and best way to fund them is raising taxes.’ Erik started.

‘My father took me into the woods to teach me to hunt, we skinned a boar and fell asleep. I woke up alone and half the boar was gone. I wandered around until someone found me and brought me here.’

‘Hunters?’ the princess guessed.

‘Yes, they took me in, and life was fine for years until…’ the old man looked over at Ragnar, something the king noticed.

‘Please go on with your story, I will not be offended.’ he assured.

‘After you overthrew the old earl and sailed off west and Yarl Bjorg attacked they killed the family that took me in and took up the house. I only just escaped, I didn’t even have a ring yet...I was too young. I never found anyone to take me in for more than a year or so/ Once I was old enough I worked odd jobs, never saved enough to but anything worth having. Just food and ale and I just...never stopped.’

‘That is horrible.’ (Y/N) said sadly.

’It is my life, I can't even imagine living a different one...being a different man.’

'What of you two?’ Aslaug asked.

'Gambling...I lost everything.’

'My wife spent more than we had on healers before the lump in her breasts killed her. Whatever money I get goes to them.’

'I am sorry for your misfortunes, all of you. Thank you so much for speaking with me today.’

The rest of lunch was pleasant, the beggars telling wild funny tales that had the royals in stitches. Even Bintu had to hide a snicker behind her hand.

‘You men are all delightful, here take this...trade it for a few nights at the tavern.’ (Y/N) said taking off her beaded necklace and handing it to Olif.

'I will find a more permanent shelter for you all soon.’

'Princess we couldn't possibly take this.’ Erik denied.

'You can and you will, I insist. I do not want to see you all begging again. You are all worth more than that.’ she smiled.

As the princess and the beggars spoke the high table attendants were watching curiously.

'What permanent shelter?’ Sigurd asked.

'I have no clue, one of us will have ask her.’ Ubbe said.

‘Ivar will do it.’ Hvitserk said as he finished his third bowl of soup.

‘Why me...again?’ asked the youngest prince.

‘She likes you.’ Ragnar shrugged.

‘She does not...she barely knows me.’ Ivar denied.

‘What does that matter? I liked your father before I had even seen him; trust me my boy, she likes you. A woman knows that look.’ Aslaug said calmly.

Ivar chose not to reply to his mother and chose to down the rest of his ale instead, struggling to keep his eyes from landing on the princess.

At last the princess sent the three men on their way to the tavern to finally have a decent place to sleep and a third meal today, making promises that she would find something better for them as soon as she could.

‘They were good company, I never would have guessed.’ the queen said.

‘You can never tell how someone is based on their look and title. It was a lesson my father taught me when I was a child. May his spirit carry on.’

‘What of your father? Sven spoke highly of your mother, the queen, but he spoke nothing of your father.’ Ragnar asked.

‘My father.’ the princess started.

‘May his spirit carry on.’ all of the foreign company said.

‘He was killed...by men who claimed to be allies of Tunisia. They came into our home with rich gifts...and a poison laced chalice.’ she said...her anger raising in her voice.

‘Cowards.’ Bintu hissed.

‘Traitors.’ said the two servants in the same anger.

‘I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be, those men got their justice...and we made sure they didn’t find peace easily. They won’t join the great spirits for years to come. Even now in the dungeons of our palace those men are screaming and begging for death. Death that won’t come until the spirits stop their beating hearts.’ Princess (Y/N) said darkly.

The amount of pure power and violence in the princesses voice was alarming and shocking to hear from someone who was sweet as summer berries just minutes ago.

It was also immensely attractive to Ivar, he loved that look in her eyes...the bloodlust.

‘Well then...let the spirits keep those hearts pumping and those lungs full of air...so their screams may one day hit our ears as well.’ Ivar smiled, raising his cup of ale to the princess.

‘Skol.’

(Y/N) smiled and bowed politely before turning to walk back to her chambers.

As Ivar drank he noticed that his whole family was grinning at him.

‘Shut up.’ he said.

‘She likes you.’ Ragnar smiled.

‘She doesn’t.’

‘Yes she does.’ Aslaug teased as well.

‘Mother.’ Ivar whined in betrayal.

His brothers all laughed and jeered, making Ivar’s ears burn in embarrassment.

‘Traitors all of you.’ Ivar said.

‘Don’t be so bitter little brother, this is a good thing Ivar. She likes you...you like her; the two of you can marry and form a strong Alliance between our country and hers. The gold they have backing our wars and raids, our ships shipping their goods and letting them see more worlds.’ Ubbe said as he stood up and walked around the table to put his hands on Ivar’s shoulders.

‘You mean if I marry her you won’t have to.’ Ivar rolled his eyes, pushing Ubbe’s hands away.

‘And we can have her servants.’ Hvitserk said raising his cup to Sigurd.

‘Both of you hush, you should all be putting forth your best efforts to marry that girl. She is a princess and your lack of effort could be seen as offensive. Besides you do all need to find yourselves decent wives. Ubbe your father was married at your age.’ Aslaug said.

‘Look how it turned out.’ Ragnar said before he took up his horn of ale.

All the sons rolled their eyes this time and quickly dismissed themselves before their mother could pull their father into this argument.

Again.

‘Must such a lovely lunch end on such a sour note every damn time?’ Hvitserk asked as they walked toward their chambers.

‘Of course, those two can’t stay in good company for more than an hour or so.’ Sigurd said.

‘Nevermind them; let’s go and train.’ Ubbe suggested.

Training was something the brothers often used as an excuse to get away from their squabbling parents, which is why they were so well trained.

‘One of us should go and get the princess...and no it will not be me.’ Ivar said.

‘I’ll get her!’ Hvitserk said eagerly.

No one could protest before the lanky brother turned tail and headed toward than the guest hall.

Hvitserk was very excited, finally he would be the one to come into the princesses chamber and hopefully he will also see her as his brothers had.

Outside the princesses door stood her two guards.

‘I am here to invite the princess to train with us.’ he said.

The two women exchanged words in the language he didn’t understand before one of them nodded and knocked on the door.

‘The prince is here to train with you Princess.’

‘Which one?’

‘Skinny one.’

‘Open the door.’

The guard opened the door and Hvitserk entered the room with high hopes.

What he saw was breathtaking.

(Y/N) was taking down her hair, while her servants were removing her dress, just as he had fully entered the room the dress fell.

‘I must say for people who are so affected by nakedness you and and your brothers do seem to like walking in on me changing.’ she said as she stepped out of her dress.

‘Uh…I just wanted to tell you that me and the others were uh about to go train.’ Hvitserk managed to say.

The way Ubbe and Ivar explained her body did her no true justice; she was just absolutely stunning.

‘I heard, I will be ready in one moment, please wait outside.’

Hvitserk, still in a daze, followed her directions and waited by the door; all the while trying to keep from making his arousal obvious.

‘I am ready, lead the way please.’

Hvitserk turned and again he was rendered speechless.

Now the princess wore a pale colored outfit, the top looked snuggly wrapped around her breast only; then the skirt also appeared to have been around her naked body.

She carried a spear and her servant carried a bow and few arrows.

While Hvitserk took in the new rugged look of the princess the woman gave order to her other servant to go and fetch Bintu so that she too could train.

‘Prince Hvitserk I hope you and your brothers will not mind waiting for Bintu, she’d be furious if I trained without her.’ the princess said.

‘Of course we will wait, we have plenty of daylight left.’ Hvitserk said.

As they all walked out to the markets to Ivar’s boulder where his brothers were waiting, Hvitserk was finally getting his wits back.

His brothers however had nearly choked on their tongues when they saw her.

‘By the gods, this is how you dress to train?’ Ivar asked with wide eyes.

‘I couldn’t move the way I need to in that dress, in this I can move and run freely.’

‘Did I keep you all waiting long?’ Bintu asked as she approached with the servant girl.

Bintu was also dressed in the same way as her princess her ever present spear looking more intimidating now than it did before.

‘Not at all. Please princes, lead the way to your training grounds.’ the princess replied.

The older brothers lifted Ivar into a chair that the princess had not noticed and then both Ubbe and Hvitserk lifted the chair by hoisters in the front and back.

‘A throne?’ Bintu asked in confusion ash she and the princess followed behind the men as they led the away from the market and into the woods.

‘Why do you carry Ivar in a throne?’ (Y/N) asked Ubbe.

‘It isn’t a thrown, just a chair. Mother gets angry when we let Ivar crawl through the woods.’ Sigurd replied.

‘But he crawls everywhere else.’ she said.

‘That is what I told her.’ Ivar pitched in.

‘Mothers hardly listen.’ the girl smiled.

‘No they don’t...neither do my brothers.’ Ivar whispered.

While Ivar and the princess share their own private conversation his brothers all shared a knowing look. Sure they had joked and teased but it really was quite obvious which one of them the princess wanted to take as her husband.

Bintu also noticed the fondness her princess had for the crippled prince and it worried her deeply. If this boy wasn’t able to prove himself a good enough warrior then no matter how fond she was of this Ivar then she would not marry him.

And the guard feared what the disappointment and broken heart would do the girl who had never experienced such a thing.

Onward they walked through the woods until they reached a clearing that had a pretty good set up, with animal heads strung up and a few targets handing up.

The princess and her guard looked around as Ivar was placed on his usual stump.

‘How do you like it?’ Ubbe asked.

‘It is nice…’

‘But.’ Ivar said.

‘Do your targets normally sit still?’ she asked.

‘No.’ Ivar answered.

‘In my land we hunt, we run to catch our prey...we chase them or we miss them.’

‘You are right, makes me sad to say I cannot run and chase.’ Ivar said looking down at his bound legs.

‘Don’t need legs to hit a moving target.’ the princess said as she took up her bow and arrow from Bintu.

She threw the items to Ivar, the prince caught them effortlessly and watched as the princess took down one of the wooden targets.

‘Hit me.’ she said as she held the small target over her chest.

‘What?’ Ivar asked in confusion.

‘You heard me...hit me here.’ she repeated pointing to the center of the target before she began walking around the clearing.

‘I suggest you princes take cover, in case your brother misses.’ Bintu warned as she backed away.

‘Ready your bow, Ivar. hit the target.’

Ivar pulled back the arrow and did his best line up his aim but whenever he had it she would keep moving.

‘Stay still.’

‘Why? Would an enemy sit still? Would a doe stay put and let you hit it or would it run?’ the princess asked as she began to run around the clearing.

‘Come on! Hit me!’ she shouted, keeping her hard eyes on Ivar who tried to keep up with her, turning every which way with his his bow raised.

He released the first arrow that landed in the bark of tree that (Y/N) had passed three seconds ago, already she had passed four more trees as he readied the next arrow.

The woman stopped looked Ivar in the eye.

‘Come on North Boy! Hit the damn target!’ she yelled.

Anger boiled in Ivar as his frustration at his own incompetence grew, almost furiously he raised the bow and drew back the string, but he didn’t release it.

Instead he watched closely as she ran the full circle and paced her and figured she be right in front of him in two seconds.

He waited and just as she reached his chosen spot he released the arrow.

‘Ah!’

Ivar looked and saw that he had hit the wooden target...right in the center.

‘There you go!’ Hvitserk cheered.

Soon all his brothers, even Sigurd, were crowding him; praising him for his feat; paying no mind to the princess who had stepped back to speak with her guard and bestfriend.

‘Not too bad, learns fast.’ Bintu said.

‘I agree, seems to learn faster when he’s angry.’ the princess noted.

‘That is a dangerous game to play princess, he could get too angry and hurt someone.’

(Y/N) did not reply to that, but the words did not fall on deaf ears, she never took any warning lightly.

‘Princess! Your turn, we want to see how good you are at hitting moving targets.’ Ubbe asked.

The princess took down the rest of of the targets and handed one to each Son of Ragnar before taking the bow from Ivar as well as the arrows.

‘Run fast, raise the targets up and down...like a deer.’ she instructed, showing them how show wanted them to move the targets while they ran.

Ivar watched this with mixed feelings; on one hand he was very impressed, on the other he was offended that she had held back when asking him to hit the moving target.

No matter his feeling his brothers quickly began running around the training ground, raising and lowering their targets as they were told.

The princess quickly looked over each one and their patterns before firing arrow after arrow, each one hitting its mark, it seemed effortless.

‘Wow.’ Hvitserk said in awe.

‘You are getting slow…you need to do it again.’ Bintu said.

‘Are you telling her what to do?’ Sigurd asked, offhandedly.

If a servant had spoken to him with such authority he’s have them in the stocks in an instant.

Bintu tilted her head in what appeared to be amusement.

‘I’m training her, as I have done everyday since she was twelve. Do you think those skills came naturally?’ the older woman asked.

His title be damned, Sigurd had a gut feeling this woman would not hesitate to personally show him how she had trained the princess.

The princess laughed at the exchange.

‘Show them a bit Bintu.’ she smile.

‘Gladly.’ the guard as she raised her spear.

‘Pick one.’ Bintu said.

‘How about a bird from...that tree.’ the princess decided, pointing to a tree nearly a mile away, even Ivar’s trained eyes struggled to find it.

‘Get em going princess.’ Bintu said keeping her hard eyes on Sigurd.

With ease (Y/N) readied another arrow and pulled it back and let it fly.

The arrow hit the leaves of the tree and a great many birds flew from it, cawing so loud that it hurt Sigurd’s ears.

Bintu threw her spear with a grunt and the weapon flew so well it was as if the Gods had willed it to go further and faster than any spear they had ever seen.

‘If you do not mind going to get her spear Sigurd.’ the princess requested.

The prince had no arguments, as long as he got away from the tall scary woman.

While the others waited for their snake eyed brother to return they all doubted he would return with anything but the spear.

No way had this footsoldier was that skilled.

Eventually Sigurd returned with wide eyes as he held the spear, with a dead crow on the end of it.

They all looked back to the two Africans who were grinning smugly.

'Ivar, might I suggest never being unfaithful to this woman.’ Ubbe whispered.

'That guard would have your head if you dared try.’ Sigurd said, still in awe of Bintu's ability.

'If the princess doesn't kill you first.’ Hvitserk added.

'What makes you think I'd want to marry her now if I ever did?’ Ivar asked.

'Your the only one of us crazy enough to handle a woman that wild.’ Ubbe smiled.

Ivar went to argue and realized that he couldn’t, if any of his brothers could comfortably handle a woman that deadly it would be him.

Somehow things eventually relaxed and they all began training; with Bintu showing to older boys how she used her spear and them showing her the ways of the sword.

While they did that (Y/N) showed Ivar a few more tricks for hitting moving targets.

‘Feel for the wind and use its direction to help push your arrow further. Then watch your prey and pace how fast it moves, guess where it will be in an instant then release the arrow.’ the princess instructed.

Ivar took in her knowledge and readied his bow while she picked up the target.

This time she didn't run around instead throwing it in the air and catching it.

'Count the seconds between me throwing it up and it falling back down.’

Ivar counted, two seconds for it to go up before it fell.

He pulled back and released it on the first second, when (Y/N) caught it there was an arrow buried deep into the wood.

‘Very good.’ she praised.

'Thank you, now sat that down, time for you to pick up a sword.’ Ivar said as he put down the bow and arrow and picked up the sword that sat beside him.

(Y/N) hung the target back up and took one of the training swords from the rack.

'Do you use swords in your country?’ Ivar asked.

'We have them but they are not the weapon of choice in in my village.’ she said holding out the sword, getting its balance.

'Do you train with it?’

'A bit, I like to think I'm decent.’ was the princess's answer.

'Lets see, try and disarm me.’

The girls raised the sword and went to strike but Ivar easily blocked the attack and every attack that rapidly followed.

She was like Hvitserk, fast and strong strikes but unfocused.

Knocking the sword from her hands and into the dirt was almost child's play for Ivar.

He went to tease the princess but when he looked at her face he knew something drastic had just happened.

(Y/N)'s eyes were wide and full of shock.

'Is...is something wrong?’ he asked worriedly.

‘You…’ she started but could not seem to find the words she wanted to say.

At this point Ivar’s brothers had taken note of the strange interaction, as did Bintu; the guard also noticed the sword in the dirt.

She quickly rushed to (Y/N)’s side.

‘He can best me.’ the princess said breathlessly in Derja, too concerned with her own thoughts to translate them into a foreign language the princes understood.

‘It is just training, the sword is not your best weapon.’ Bintu tried to reason.

‘He can best me...he is worthy.’ she said looking back to Ivar.

‘Princess if I have offended you then I would like to apologize.’ Ivar said.

Without saying a word the princess kneeled in front of Ivar’s stump, keeping an intense eye contact with him as he did.

Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar all watched in complete as one of the princess’s servants ran to her side and handed her a very well decorated dagger.

‘Ivar Lothbrok, Son of Ragnar Lothbrok, you have proven the ability to best me. I, Princess (Y/N) of Tunisia, Daughter of Queen Aza, ask you accept my proposal of a Matrimonial Fight.’

‘What?’ Ivar asked with his face completely scrunched up in his confusion.

‘The princess is asking you to fight with to see if you can best her in true combat. If you win this fight...she will marry you.

Ivar’s eyes went wide as he took in those words, his brothers were in no better shape as their jaws had dropped. Ivar looked back down at the the princess on her knees before him, he watched her offer up dagger to him.

‘Blood me with the blade of my father to accept the fight.’ the princess said.

Still in mild confusion Ivar took the dagger, looking over the golden hilt and the jewels that decorated it. The shine of the sharp blade almost made the jewels look dim.

The princess pulled down a bit of the fabric that already barely covered her breast , nearly freeing the flesh completely.

‘Cut her.’ Bintu explained, sliding her hand across her own breast to show Ivar what he needed to do.

He knew that this was all moving too fast and that this was definitely a very important decision he shouldn’t be making without the council of at least one of his parents, but they were not her, and (Y/N) was there on her knees waiting.

Before Ivar could talk some sense into himself he put his empty hand on the girl’s shoulder and using his other hand he press the blade to the soft flesh of her breast.

The crippled prince could feel the skin break and watched closely as the blood dripped down her breast and begin to stain her top.

Carefully he dragged the knife, slicing the dark skin.

He didn’t leave too long of a mark but it would definitely be a very decent scar once it healed.

The princess took the blade back and looked to Ivar hopefully.

‘Do you have a blade of your father?’ she asked.

‘Uh...Sigurd.’ Ivar said looking over at his brother.

The snake eyed man looked confused for a moment before a look of realization came over him and he quickly pulled a knife from its sheath at his side.

‘Father gave this to me, will it work if I give it to Ivar?’ he asked.

‘It will have to do.’ Bintu said.

Sigurd gave Ivar the knife and (Y/N) took it from his hands.

The princess began to unlace Ivar’s tunic and pushed aside its fabric revealing Ivar’s chest.

‘Say these words Prince Ivar. By the blade of my father I accept your proposal to a Matrimonial Fight. ’ Bintu instructed.

‘By the blade of my father I accept your proposal to a Matrimonial Fight.’ Ivar repeated.

The princess smiled as she pressed the blade against Ivar’s bare chest.

He hissed in pain as the rather dull knife broke his skin and sliced threw it, once the cut was deemed long enough the princess returned the knife to Ivar before she stood.

‘In one moon’s time we will fight for my hand in marriage.’ she said before she turned and began to walk away.

Her servants hurried to gather their princess’s things before they ran after her, leaving the confused princes with Bintu.

‘May the spirits be with you Ivar Lothbrok.’ she said before she too turned and left.

#alliance series #ivar the boneless #Ubbe Lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #sigurd snake in the eye #aslaug #Ragnar Lothbrok #ivar x reader #vikings imagine #MY OCs

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