#THATS ASLAUG RIGHT THERE

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

labour by paris paloma is THE vikings women theme song

[stheresya]

I love seeing alyssa sutherland characterized as aslaug because it's like looking at a real life pre-raphaelite muse. just.. everything about her: her sharp face, her height (she's taller than ragnar!), her languid manner. all these coming together to give her that ethereal allure that belongs to a distant past. it's honestly a shame that alyssa didn't do more period pieces set in ancient or medieval times nor played any old immortal creature, she's certainly built for it.

[hinasho]

ive been thinking abt Margrethe.

for starters, her relationship with Ubbe was never one i was really rooting for, but the more i think abt it the more it? grosses me out??

the beginnings of Ubbe x Margrethe

to my understanding, Ubbe didn’t actually like Margrethe. i dont think he ever even saw her as a person. the relationship Margrethe had with the boys in the beginning of 4b was basically to use her as a personified fl*sh light. Ubbe would play the “nice guy” card by scolding the brothers for treating her like an object, but then he himself never bothered to remember her name.

when Ubbe marries Margrethe, it was not bc he had feelings for her. i believe it was solely as a power play against Lagertha to show that her queenship means fuck all to him. like, he deliberately proposes to Margrethe when Lags is right there, his next scene is him telling Lagertha off when she confronts him about it, and then afterwards, their "marriage” just goes back to sharing her like a toy with Hvitserk rather than any attempt at actually getting to know her.

the more i think about Margrethe i just feel awful. when Hvitserk leaves the picture and passing her around like a doll isn’t a fun game anymore, it becomes clear extremely fast that Ubbe has no genuine interest in her. in ALL of their scenes post-the Great Army, he looks bored and like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Margrethe as a person

Margrethe is a very tragic character because at the end of the day, i think all she wanted was freedom and security. the literal only reason Ubbe freed her was because he wanted to stick it to Lagertha, and with his growing disinterest afterwards, it makes sense that she felt the only way she could guarantee any real safety would be by becoming queen. Lagertha did it, so why couldnt she? i mean at this point, what else could Margrethe do but gun for the one position that promised freedom? after being freed by Ivar, Freydis was lucky enough to be able to establish a home in the woods, but thats not the easiest thing to do (or maybe it is idk). without Ubbe backing her, where could Margrethe go? and who’s to say, without him, she wouldn’t just be enslaved again? Ubbe was the only real anchor she had to ensure she remained a free woman. or at least, i can see her past leading her to think so.

now, we dont know a lot about Margrethe but i believe its implied that she was a Völva similar to Aslaug. the only distinction is Aslaug was able to tell the difference between her visions and reality, whereas i think Margrethe struggled with this. and by being a slave, i doubt she was given much help to learn.

combining her struggle to distinguish reality with her rapidly declining relationship with Ubbe, i dont think her increasing anxiety over the course of the show is unreasonable.

all this isnt to say that Margrethe is a good person (being a good person isnt necessary to be deserving of sympathy). she did psychologically torment Torvi’s kids which was a horrible thing to do. why she did it? idk. it mightve been to exert power over the only people she thought she could. it mightve been bc she wanted others to be as much of a wreck as she was. anything’s possible.

the start of Ubbe + Torvi

when Ubbe begins expressing interest in Torvi is where things begin to really fall apart. i cant remember the exact words used, but i do know that Ubbe expressed great disdain for Margrethe when he was talking to Torvi right before their kiss. this is just speculation, but i wouldnt be surprised if he kept downtalking her while he and Torvi were away.

i think theres actually a few signs that point to this as Torvi grows to question if Margrethe will kill her children! i cant think of any reason why Torvi would even develop this concern unless Ubbe kept talking about Margrethe in a bad light to her. she knew Margrethe was ambitious bc of how openly she talked about usurping Lagertha, but murdering children?? if Torvi felt safe enough to leave them with Margs in the first place, then smthg had to have changed after she left.

and while they’re gone, its clear that Margrethe’s grasp on reality is spiraling alongside her rising anxiety. she has a rough time now that shes completely on her own. but regardless (and even tho she does mentally bully them) she doesnt actually harm Torvi’s children. when the group comes back to Kattegat, Hali and Asa are physically fine. a little shaken, but fine.

now its very unclear what events transpire after this. Hali and Asa probably told Torvi what Margrethe said to them, but i dont think her words warrant enough of a crime to throw shackles on her and lock her up with the pigs!!!!!!!

this is not only Margrethe’s worst nightmare, but probably the worst nightmare of any freed person on the show. this is also incredibly ironic on Ubbe’s part as, in 4x11 when the brothers are discussing letting Ivar “have a go with her”, Ubbe specifically says:

“She’s not cattle. She’s a human being.”

oh the terrible full circle irony of him being the one to then chain her in the pigpen!!

unsurprisingly, things get worse from here. while Margrethe is tied up - and she looks really fucked up btw. i wouldnt be surprised if they used brute force to put those shackles on - Ubbe and Torvi continue to not acknowledge Margrethe as a person. she literally pleads with Ubbe that she is not an animal and there’s no need to tie her up, but Ubbe turns her down flat.

(also i didnt catch it on my first watch and had to have it pointed out to me, but after the group leaves, they leave her behind, still in chains, but have the audacity to take the fucking pigs instead!)

after being found by Ivar and Hvitserk

i do not know if the group knew Rollo would tell Ivar where they could be found, so idk if they left her there not caring whether she lived or died, or if they left her knowing Ivar would find her. i have no clue. but regardless, Margrethe fortunately (or unfortunately) gets found by Ivar’s people.

after being brought back to Kattegat, Ivar writes her off as being “simply possessed by an evil spirit” meanwhile Hvitserk takes her to live at his cabin in the woods. in this very short arc, Margrethe is still at one of her lowest points. she was shown to be terrified of Ivar before he became king, so i cant imagine now that he is king, she feels any safer. her anxiety has to be through the roof, i mean srsly things could not have turned out worse for her.

i cant speak too much on her relationship with Hvitserk during this time bc its kinda left in the air, but with Ubbe gone, Margrethe clearly clutches at any source of comfort she can find. so she begs Hvitserk to kill Ivar and become king so that she can be queen (and like i said earlier, “being queen” is less about wanting the actual title and more about her wanting the security that comes with it). i cant fully interpret how Hvitserk takes this conversation, but he then puts Margrethe to bed where she utters the most heartbreaking line in her arc:

“What’s wrong with me?”

theres just so many layers to that one line of dialogue. her frail grasp on her (i believe) Völva capabilities, her uncontrollable and clearly overwhelming anxiety, the inhumane treatment from a person that was supposed to be her husband, its just so much!!! Margrethe has a lot happen to her in very little time and its really sad!

then in the middle of the night, shes brutally killed by 3 strangers. she doesnt even know if they’re REAL because she asks “why they wont just go away” as if she thinks them to be hallucinations at first. then they murder her as she begs for her life and thats it. was the hit ordered bc she knew Ivar was too wound up to have kids? was it bc of the dude’s flimsy little nightmare? both? who knows! regardless, she dies bc of it. and thats the end. thats the finale of the story of Margrethe.

conclusion

its just... awful. there’s really not much to say. Margrethe lived as a slave, then as an unwanted and eventually loathed free woman, and then she was mercilessly killed. 

bc of the narrative framing, Margrethe is clearly not supposed to be liked by the viewers, but that doesnt take away from how much she didnt deserve anything that was done to her. and i do believe shes one of the most tragic characters on the show.

[wristic]

OOOh my GoD OH MY GOD! Why did I have to stumble on an old Vikings OC and just never finish writing it! I got to the end and was instantly furious with myself for not writing a billion more pages!

The seer's words taunted her with every step. Every second of everyday that moment was replayed in her mind. Kattegat would be hers, she just needed to be patient, clever. She needed to play his vices, and who knew of Ragnar’s vices better than his wife.

Aslaug ascended the steps to the auctioned slave girls, asking her gods for a sign, something to show their favor. And then she saw her, a woman unlike the others. Black haired and black eyed, her skin a shade darker yet warmer than the rest and her eyes upturned and naturally hooded. She was exotic compared to the rest. And Ragnar collected exotic things.

As Aslaug examined the smaller woman, both their attention was grabbed when a tiny hand tugged at the future slaves dress. The little girl pointed to Aslaug, speaking in the strange Frankish language. The little girl was skinny and frail looking, warm brown curly hair cascading down her back, wide russet eyes, her upper lip was more plump than her bottom, but it only made her look all the more darling.

The woman with the hooded eyes timidly looked back to Aslaug after arguing with the girl. With a soft voice she spoke, an accent hidden under her tongue, “She wants to know if you are a Queen.”

Aslaug was taken back, both at the stranger who could speak the language and at the girl whose gaze didn’t falter. “I am. Why does she want to know?”

“She would like you to buy her.”

Aslaug and her handmaidens chuckled. Looking to the buyer she teased, “Aren’t you lucky to have merchandise that sells itself.”

“She says…” the woman looked down, almost nervous. “If she’s going to be a slave, she would want to be a rich one, rather than one that withers away in a farmhouse.”

The smile faded, Aslaug looking down at the little girl rubbing her arms to keep warm. For a moment Aslaug wondered if she was really even cold, the girl was far too smart for her age to not be manipulative. It was impressive. Aslaug looked between the two, one who would have a clear purpose, the other...was interesting.

“I will take these two.” The handmaiden payed for her while Aslaug reached her hand out to the little girl, the woman following behind. “What is your name?”

The woman translated for her, forming a strange look in the child's answer, one that Aslaug would soon share. “She says she is your slave, her past does not matter now. That perhaps you would like to give her a new name.”

“Oh? How about Thrall? Fitting don’t you think?” Aslaug smiled, a joke for herself.

The little girl didn’t hesitate a second before answering once the words were translated, her big brown eyes, seeming like they’d been one with the wood and the earth for a thousand years, never left Aslaug's. 

“She asks, if you know it will always be fitting? Is there nothing else in the world you could think of for her future?”

Aslaug paused her walk, staring down at the curious girl as she thought. It was an interesting question, not one born a slave would ask. There was ambition in those words, perhaps dangerous ambition Aslaug should be weary of. But her interest was peeked in a way she couldn’t just throw away and never look back.

“Siv. Your name will be Siv.”

At first she was going to leave the girl in the kitchens, bring her out when she needed to be amused. But now, walking her through the great Hall, into the back to the rooms, she saw how Siv walked as if she belonged there. Knowing Ivar would be inside, how the cold made his little joints ache, she stood Siv at his bed and knelt down.

“Ivar, this is Siv. She’s going to help us around the house.”

He sat up looking her up and down. “She is a slave?”

Aslaug ran a finger through those curly locks and thought. “For now. But she is special. The gods have given her to us. So be good to her. She is precious property.” Ivar didn’t seem to like the sound of that, crinkling his nose as she spoke.

Siv looked around at Aslaug to the strange woman then back at Ivar. She held out her hand. Hesitantly Ivar took it. Quickly Siv bent down and kissed each of his red cheeks. Yidu held back a laugh at Ivar's chubby shocked and disturbed face.

“It is a Frankish custom. She's trying to say she wants to be friends.”

Like seriously, why did I have to stop there!?

[cibolasburn]

imagining vikings and more specifically ivar in the hands of steinberg and levine...... can you imagine how good he would have been. like you take the best parts of flint and silver, the nuance of the anger at the world for putting him into the role of the Other, for making HIM the monster because he has no way of following their rules. his anger at someone he loved and who accepted him being torn away from him (if steinberg and levine had been in charge aslaug wouldnt have died that way, as lagertha would be her wife #gayrights so we’re talking only about ragnar’s death bc sadly the only interesting things ragnar does is fight a dragon, and die covered in snakes). and then add silver’s fear that people’s love is conditional on his status of power, on his ruthlessness, on the thing that the only three people who ever cared for him (for he is disabled, and he relies on their love for his survival, because if they revoke it, he will be abandoned and he will die. and he knows this, his own father left him in the woods to die, and it was his mother’s love that saved him) so he must act selfishly (selfishly, even out of love). and god we would have seen him be smart, plotting and undermining and always winning tests of cunning and wisdom. we could have a wisdom contest....

instead we get oooh scary monster, oooh look he’s sexually threatening and he has no emotions and we’re going to show this in a way that is reminiscent of literal eugenics propaganda oooh scary, i hope his brother (the rightful ruler) can save everyone because ivar betrayed them all cause he’s evil and wanted to burn england cause he’s crazy oooh GOD im making myself angry again. the ivar that lives in my brain is flint and silver adjacent, and thats all that i can say

[icefrozendeadlyqueen]

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.

[philomaela]

Ragnar/Lagertha, Aslaug/Lagertha, Ivar/Freydis!

Ragnar/Lagertha

Oh god, oh god.... this is so not gonna be coherent. Listen, I shipped them in season 1 and then Ragnar acted like an absolute dick towards Lagertha for having a miscarriage. Then in season 2, I grew to appreciate them again, as two people who had kind of moved onto different places in their lives but of course still loved each other. But then in season 3.... I started to sour on it a bit and by s4a, I really couldn’t find anything to ship in it.

I think the reason for that shift was that... Lagertha does so much for Ragnar, she brings him ships in s2, she fights for him and then from s3-s4a we see Ragnar constantly do nothing for her. He won’t support her against Kalf, he gives her shit for sleeping with Ecbert and the weird possessiveness he had over her pregnancy in s4a was very off-putting to me. I get that on one level he was concerned about her, but I just always go back to that moment where he’s putting his hands on her baby bump and she keeps taking them off and pushing him away. Like... I get that in the world of Vikings thats not a big deal, but I just found him so condescending. However, I still thought Lagertha was mostly understandable as a character and I thought they idea of her loving Ragnar on some level but not wanting to be with him “in this life” was pretty good.

And then s4b hit and ALL Lagertha talks about is Ragnar, all her motivations are centered around her love for Ragnar and Ragnar’s memory and what Ragnar stood for. It fucking succckkkkksssss. Like, if the show had brought up once or twice the idea that Lagertha wanted to reunite with Ragnar in Valhalla, I would have been mostly okay with it. But having Ragnar be Lagertha’s motivation for taking Kattegat and having her talk about Ragnar constantly in front of Astrid (which I don’t think she does with Heahmund...) is so annoying. Like, I can’t help it, they went so hard with centering Lagertha around Ragnar, I have nothing but vitriol for Ragnar/Lagertha. She may not have always been my favorite character, but I still wanted her to have a better storyline than this! So, I can’t help but hate the ship by extensions lmao.

Aslaug/Lagertha

I get why people didn’t ship it in season 2 and instead wanted Lagertha to be angry with Aslaug and Ragnar. Like, I wouldn’t blame her for hating both of them in season 2. But I can’t help it, the way they interacted with each other and grew more comfortable in each other’s presence just made them soooooo sweet and shippable imo. They had that whole “in another life/perhaps in a dream” sort of quality to them. I loved them hugging each other and then clinging to each other’s hands, I loved them looking out over the ocean together, I loved them complimenting each other and I loved that they were next to each other in the threesome scene! Basically, I loved all of it. Also, just on a thematic level, I thought they would have been gorgeous together because they both represented these sort of different ideas of womanhood and yet had a lot of similarities in their personalities and actions. Like... just on a thematic level, it would be sooooooo goooooddddd. And I get that they have a lot of baggage to start of with lmao, but that’s kind of what makes them so amazing? That they start off in such a bad place and yet somehow grow beyond that and become so sweet to eachother.

And then season 4b happened.... and they’re back to hating each other and acting like season 2 never happened? I’ve heard the argument that Lagertha was just burying her anger because she didn’t know how to handle the situation at that time... but I don’t buy that tbh. First... I mean, obviously there’s no indication of that happening, but also sooooo many of there interactions go way overboard in that case. Like, I get them being cordial, but why wasn’t their hug stiff and uncomfortable.... why did they hold hands like that after? Ughhh, I just... I thought there was this really amazing subtext and then season 4b blew it all up. They didn’t have to make it canon but they didn’t have to work so hard to pretend season 2 never happened.

Ivar/Freydis

I... honestly have never decided how I felt about them as a couple. I have really strong feelings about individual moments but as a whole... man the more messy this show becomes, the harder I find it to form a general opinion! I mean... I didn’t really ship them, even when they were being cute in their honeymoon phase because ultimately it felt like it was all about Ivar. I do think that like... Freydis is as close as you’re ever going to get to a girl being able to be in a relationship with s5!Ivar in a way that doesn’t make her totally subservient to him. So on that level, their early relationship was nice. Obviously the minute he leaves her baby out to die, I’m like, well she has every right to hate you forever now. Like, that was my reaction to Ragnar and Aslaug, that’s my reaction to Ivar and Freydis too.

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part Three

Okay y'all so here it is!! Part 3 of the Return series!!! Ivar and reader relationship developmentttttt💕 Hope you guys like itttt :) Lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged too. And don't kill meeeee pleaseee 😂

Part 1  Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 10

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @amy8220 @cutegyrl927 @camatsuru @cindy-exo @cainismyname @affection-rabbit

Disclaimer: My sucky writing again. Bad grammar and spelling😂 Character death. And bad plot in general.

Your POV

Excitement. Thats all I could say I was feeling at the moment. To finally be back in Kattegat with my family was something I never thought would have happened again. After my father’s grand announcement of my return, the room overflowed with happiness. People were coming up to me, asking me where I had been for the past 6 years and how I had survived. Obviously, I tried to answer everyone’s questions to the best of my ability without giving too much information. For I still didn't know, the true reason as to why I had to leave or who wanted me gone.

The happiness in the hall however did not last very long. Aslaug, the woman who was questioning Bjorn earlier that night. Was actually my father’s wife. “Im sorry? She's your what now?!?!” Aslaug screams of sorrow over my existence could probably be heard all the way in Frankia. My father however, seemed to have very little interest in her reactions at all. He had cast her to the side as if she meant nothing to him. During the course of the next few hours neither my father nor Bjorn left my side. It was as if they thought something would occur to me if I was out of their side for more than a second. “Father, if it is alright with you I would like to go outside for some fresh air.” I tell him, whilst grasping his hand to truly catch his attention. Cupping my face he says “My sweet little girl, you may do anything you please. However, I would prefer that you do not stray too far from here, as I have just gotten you back. And I would not be able to handle losing you again.” With that he gives me a kiss on my forehead and sends me on my way. 

However, I can still feel the overbearing presence of my older brother. “Bjorn, you know Im not gonna run away, if thats what you're afraid of.” I tell him whilst stepping outside. “Im not afraid of you running away. Im afraid of something happening to you (y/n). Plus worrying about you is my job, always has been.” Leaning on one of the wooden beams, I cant help but to stare up at the sky and hold my cross between my fingers. Thinking to myself how different life would have been if I had not left. “ Im only a few steps away shout if anything happens. Okay?” “Okay! And Bjorn... I love you.” At that Bjorn kisses my forehead and walks back inside.

Unbeknownst to me, a certain dark haired man was lurking in the shadows. “Awwww, If I had a heart I would think that was probably the sweetest reunion Ive ever seen.” Turning to the sound of that familiar voice, I see Ivar leaning on his crutch making his way towards me. “I never thought that I would have a sister. And a Christian one at that.” The way that his eyes scan over my body makes me feel a certain way that I cannot quite describe. And the way that his features are outlined by the moonlight really gives a sense of how handsome he is. “Wait, are you implying that...” 

“Well, if all Christians are as slow as you I don't think we’ll have a problem conquering them.” A smirk is displayed on his face, while his eyes show a hint of deviance in them. “Why do you think that Bjorn and Ubbe look so much alike (y/n)?” “Or the fact that we all share similar traits like our eyes?” As Ivar continues to talk down to me as if I were a child, I start to connect the dots. Why it was that Bjorn and Ubbe look alike. The way that they all seem to share the same traits as my father. The four young men that Bjorn introduced me too, are actually my brothers. 

With wide eyes I come to the realization that...“You’re my brother.” “Took you long enough.” At that Ivar seems to crack what looks like a genuine smile. “You know, I always thought that I was the youngest, but now that I'm not...” The genuine smile I had probably imagined was now a devious one. “ Now, baby sister. Why don't you and I go and sit down by those steps down there. And you can tell big brother Ivar, what you've been up to all this time?” Without being able to answer, Ivar grabs my hands and takes me towards the steps. Why do I feel like this night is just getting started...

-----------------------------------------

Ivar POV

Needless to say all of us were in shock to learn that (y/n) was our sister. Especially Hvitserk, who had not only been enchanted by her beauty, but was  already planning how he would take her from Bjorn. I however, knew something was up the minute I saw her in the great hall. She had no scars whatsoever on her body, meaning she wasn't a shield-maiden. And absolutely no callouses on her fingers from when she took the ale, meaning she definitely wasn't a thrall. And Bjorn wouldn't cheat on Torvi, unless he wants his balls cut off. Something intrigued me about her instantly. It was if she had been sent to me by the Gods, her sharp tongue reminded me of mine. The way that she stood up for my mother not even knowing that she had caused Lagertha and Ragnar to break up amazed me. The way she handled herself with grace and dignity was exactly what I wanted. No, what I need for in a wife.

“Ivar, are you okay? You've been staring at me for the past 5 mins without saying a word.” (y/n) places her hand on my knee to draw my attention whilst looking straight into my eyes. “As a matter of fact, Im trying to piece together, how we’re the same age, and we never met before you left.” As she goes to lift her hand from my knee, something instinctively goes over me and I grab her and hold it were it was. The initial shock she and I both had at my actions soon subsided. She let her hand rest under mine. As if we had done this countless times before, our fingers intertwined and they in my eyes fit perfectly. I could see the inner turmoil inside her, on whether these small affectionate moments between us were something that was so wrong, but that felt so right. 

It was not just moments ago that I had found out she was indeed my sister. Blood of my blood. But somehow, something in me told me that we were meant to be. I felt safe and strangely loved by this person in front of me, whom I have never met before. “You know Ivar, we lived on a farm. I was 100% certain that I would be a farm girl for the rest of my life. I was content with knowing that I would spend my life tending to the animals and my family. But, this is just too much.” Looking down at where our once intertwined hands were. I see that she is now staring at the ground playing with the ends of her long braided hair. “Why? Because you feel as if you're not good enough? Look at me for Odin’s sake! Im a cripple!” At that moment our eyes connected and I saw a reflection of myself in her. A scared child who was deprived of a normal childhood. Seeking for acceptance and love from anyone. 

“(Y/n), come inside father wishes to speak to you.” Bjorn says coming out from the great hall ale in hand. Clearly drunk as well. “Sure thing, I’ll be there in a second.” As she goes to stand up (y/n) turns to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for the pep talk, big brother.” 

I knew that I could not be the only one feeling this way. She had to have been feeling the same about me. And I will go to the ends of the world and face the God’s themselves if they think that for a second I will not make her mine. 

Your POV

What had I just done! I kissed him whether it be on the cheek or not. I kissed Ivar. My brother. Oh lord, forgive me for these sinful thoughts are consuming me. The intense feeling I got from us holding hands and from when he stared into my eyes. I had felt at home. Felt safe, felt something that I should only be feeling for the man I should marry. Not my brother! As I enter the great hall, all eyes turn on me. Remembering what I had just talked to Ivar about, I keep my head up. I shouldn't be ashamed, or feel as if I'm less than I am.

As I make my way to my father through the crowd once he spots me his eyes light up immediately. Sitting on his thrown he extends his hand and makes me sit on the throne beside his. “My beautiful daughter are you feeling alright now?” He says to me a little louder as if to make sure that people know not to mess with me. “Y..yes father Im feeling much better.” I murmur to him. At that moment my eyes trail off as if to find something that would take me out of this position right now. I have never been one to be the centre of attention. And as much as I wanna believe in myself that I can be a good princess to my people, at the moment that is not going to happen. As I scan the room my eyes land on Hvitserk. He’s eating a piece of chicken las if it were his last meal ever. I cannot help, but to laugh at him and that when he notices. He flashes a smile that could certainly melt any lady’s heart.  Without realizing I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and bit my lip. Biting my lip when Im nervous is something Ive always done.

However, what did not realize was Ivar eyeing me from behind him. At that I stop and stare at the ground. As the hours go by, finally the last person leaves the great hall. Leaving only my father and brothers with me. “Sooooo, where is (y/n) supposed to sleep, father?” Asks Ubbe. Coming from behind me Hvitserk puts his arm around my shoulders bringing me closer to his body. “She can sleep with me! I don't mind sharing my bed with her.” At this Ivar scoffs. “Of course you wouldn't, you wouldn’t mind sharing your bed with anything that has a pulse.” I tilt my head trying to figure out whatever he means by that. And all that can be heard is the snickering of my father. 

“I was thinking that perhaps I could sleep with Bjorn. You know since we used to share a room when we were little...” I say wishing that what I feel most comfortable with could be taken into account. “I don't know about that one baby sis, you'd have to ask Torvi. She defiantly doesn't like sharing thats for sure.” as Ivar says this he smirks at me while taking bite out of his apple. “Who’s Torvi?” “Wait! Bjorn didn't tell you? He's married.” 

At that moment a scream was heard throughout the town.

“Oh My God, Mira!!!!” at that moment I shot out of Hvitserk’s arms and ran as fast as I could. How could I have been so stupid that I left my friend by herself in an unknown place. Seeing the people gathered around Bjorn's cabin only made my heart more nervous. Pushing my way past the crowd I make it up the steps in one piece. But what I saw would forever haunt me. There on the floor lied my once best friend and most trusted subject Mira. And on her back was carved the death rune. All I remember is hitting the floor and watching a pair of worried and frantic electric blue eyes.

[collecting-stories]

PT 5 | Modern!Ivar

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

There was nothing that could have possibly made this visit worse. Since moving out to go to college Ivar had taken full control of his medical needs. He took himself to his own doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and anything else that he required. It wasn’t something he had really considered important until he moved out and had some level of freedom. Now he couldn’t imagine not being able to navigate his own medical care, though he didn’t have to imagine it for too long. With Aslaug visiting before the holiday he was forced to bring her to the last of his doctor’s appointments before he was able to go home for Christmas.  

“You don’t need to be here,” Ivar stated for the hundredth time as he sat in the exam room waiting for the first of the onslaught to come through the door. Clinic visits were the worst in his opinion, only because it was a barrage of nurses, therapists, doctors, social workers, and nutritionists. All with the best intention and all determined to get Ivar to do things he didn’t want to do. Like join support groups or consider learning more everyday skills like cooking.  

“I haven’t been to a doctor’s appointment with you in almost a year Ivar, indulge me just this once.” Aslaug requested, setting her bag down on the chair beside her and pulling out her notepad and pen. His mother was nothing if not obsessed with taking notes during these appointments, in case she needed to dig up some obscure suggestion from years prior to nag him about. If only he’d learned to peddle that stupid hand bike when he was eleven, then he would be more social surely.  

Before he could argue further with her a knock came at the closed door. It opened a crack and Ivar felt his stomach flip in anxiousness as you appeared in the entryway. “Hey, just thought I’d come in first before the parade begins.” As you walked fully into the exam room you caught sight of Ivar’s mother, sitting there appraising you. “Hi, you must be Mrs. Ragnarsson, I’m Ivar’s physical therapist.”  

“Nice to meet you. I told my husband that everyone just keeps getting younger and younger when I go to the doctor’s.” She noted, jotting down your name in her notepad.

“That’s true,” you brushed off the jab, “I actually shadowed Ivar’s old therapist last year, so we’re a bit familiar with each other.”  

“Oh I so loved her, she was a wonderful lady.”

“She was.” You nodded and turned your attention to your boyfriend, who looked very much like he wanted to sink into the floor. “So, I’m just going to do basic measurements. I’d usually stay longer but I’ve got a few other patients in before the holiday.”

“So no goals to discuss for after break?” Aslaug asked. She watched as you sat down on the stool and rolled it over to her son’s chair.  

“Well I just had Ivar in yesterday for therapy, I can email you my chart if you’d like to see what gameplan we made for the coming year. As Ivar knows I’m stepping into a more pediatric position after the end of next year. I’ll be taking on more cases that focus on younger kids and some of the older patients will be transitioning into the adult hospital.” You replied, trying to focus on your work as you spoke.  

It had been over chinese food, after Ivar told you he loved you and he wanted you to spend the holiday with him that you broke the news about your shift in job positions. It was a blessing really, and though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting used to a new therapist in a years time he knew that you not being his PT anymore meant that you could openly date him. Something you reassured him you had taken into consideration when you accepted the job offer. You also didn’t miss the opportunity to point out that working with kids would mean working with people who were actually nice to you and did what you asked.  

“I always do what you ask.”

“Rarely.” You pointed out, “Almost only on Fridays.”

“Last Wednesday I did that stupid leg exercise and practiced transitioning myself down on the floor and back into my chair.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but you only agreed to the last one to show off.” You retorted.

“Maybe.” Ivar grinned, knowing it was true. He couldn’t deny that knowing you were physically attracted to him was always a massive ego boost and he definitely enjoyed the little grin you always had watching him doing anything physical.  

The exam room door opened to let in both the social worker and the nutritionist, breaking Ivar’s train of thought. You stood up and moved over to the computer, typing some notes into his chart before reading back his measurements to Aslaug so she could track them herself. The nutritionist started in on him immediately, commenting on his weight from the morning.  

Ivar watched you typing as he spoke, annoyed that his mom had insisted on coming with him this morning. You had done measurements yesterday during therapy and he knew you had come in first in hopes of spending a little bit of time with him before the two of you left for the holiday in a couple of days. Now that had been interrupted by his mother and he wouldn’t get any time alone with you aside from the drive to and from his family home. Until then you and he were both busy and once the holiday started it would be a crammed house of relatives for one long and tortuous weekend that Ivar was growing to regret more and more.  

“Well I’m all done, I’ll get out of your hair.” You announced, patting Ivar’s arm as you walked passed him to the door. “It was nice to meet you Mrs. Ragnarsson.”  

“You as well.” Ivar’s mother said, offering you less than a glance as you left the room.  

Ivar slumped a bit in his chair, leaning against the backrest more than he usually would as he listened to his mother discuss diet options that would be healthy while he was living in a dorm. He wouldn’t have minded wheeling out after you and spending the rest of the day anywhere but here. Or better yet if he could rewind to last night when he was over your apartment for dinner and he didn’t have to worry about stupid diets or how far his leg could unbend.  

His phone buzzed in his sweatshirt pocket. A message from you, that one of your patients had canceled and you could leave early if he wanted to do something for dinner. Ivar quickly texted back.  

-What would be for dinner?-

-Greek? Why are you gonna out with your other girlfriend if you don’t like the food?-

-I don’t have another girlfriend-  

-I bet you say that to all your girlfriends-

-😒-

-So I guess you haven’t mentioned the dating to your mom-

-Not yet. I will-

-Before I arrive at her house for Christmas?-

“Ivar are you paying attention?” Aslaug asked, leaning forward to nudge her son’s elbow.  

“There isn’t anything to pay attention to, we’re just sitting here waiting for the doctor to come in.” Ivar replied, “and once he does it’ll be the same thing it always is. He’ll read all the stuff the nurse already asked and noted and then tell me I’m looking good and to keep up the good work and then we’ll leave.”  

“This is very important Ivar. Your health is something you should take seriously.”

“I am.” He argued.

“Not when I’m doing all the talking and you’re texting away on your phone. That might’ve been fine when you were a kid but you’re an adult now Ivar. You need to pay attention and listen and respond.” She commented, leaning back in her chair.  

“Yes mother.” Ivar grumbled, knowing he would get nowhere with her. He sent one last text to you, promising he would talk to his mom. He wanted to but she was already getting on his last nerve with her nitpicking and he couldn’t imagine how she would take the news of him dating. Especially him dating his physical therapist. He could already picture how that conversation would go.  

“When the doctor is in I want to talk to him about you getting involved in more social activities. I worry about you being all alone.” Aslaug mentioned, picking up right where she had left off that morning when she told him that he needed more friends.  

Taglist: @breathlesssouls @lif3snotouttogetyou @demonhunter1616 @flowers-in-your-hayr @alwaysadreamingoptimist @ms-allenbrown  @arses21434 @glopsifum @aelfenpath @moose-squirrel-asstiel @vikingalexthedane @another-life-addict @born-in-19-96 @naaladareia @mysticthinking @artanakin @thats-so-rhyan  @spotted-possibilities @wallabiewisher @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @filthyshieldmaiden @mblaqgi @glopsifum @ilvebeenabad @artanakin @noaor @hanbinwsrt 

[bonniebird]

The Girl Next Door

Hvitserk x Reader

AN: This started as a dream. Thank you @honestsycrets for letting me borrow her Marco gifs and then talking to me about my weird plot ideas until the ball started rolling xD.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You shouted as you rushed to get the bus. You could see the back of Ivar’s head sat at the back of the bus which pulled off as you reached the stop. You glanced back at the college and sighed. You could try and find someone to give you a lift. With a quick glance up at the cloudy sky you decided that it would be better if you walked home.

Rain began to gently patted down and you cursed Ivar’s offer of ‘Oh I could pick up (Y/N)’s uniform Mrs (Y/L/N)!” Of course your parents who were often travelling were so happy to have lovely, helpful neighbours next door. You doubted they’d be so happy if they knew Ivar had several inches cut off your uniforms skirts before delivering them to you.

“Hey sweetie!” Someone called as you took a wrong turn. Glancing around you saw a few men stood around the warehouses. You hated this part of town but it was the quickest way home and the rain was starting to get heavier. “Come on. Don’t be shy.”

“Come on baby!” With a last shout you started to hurry faster, almost running. You hadn’t seen Hvitserk flicking away his cigarette as he sipped from a can of beer, expecting to have a quick meeting at one of his warehouses.

He spotted you rushing away, giving the men calling after you a quick glare, he sighed, reminding himself to bring up buying them out to Ubbe when they next had a meeting.

“Babygirl, keep walking.” You jumped when you heard the voice coming much closer than the other voices.

Glancing around you spotted the men who had been catcalling you were slowly settling their way after you. A hand snaked around your back, making you jump. “Hvitserk?” You asked in sunrise.

“The fuck are you doing out here looking like that? Should know better than coming down here.” Hvitserk muttered to you as he marched you the way he’d come, towards his car.

“Ivar was the one that had the seamstress change my uniform. Also the bus left so it’s not like I’m out here on purpose.” You said, trying to keep some form of confidence all the while focusing entirely on the fact that Hvitserk had his arm neatly around you.

“Stay here.” He said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked his car. You sat in the car and the lock clicked shut again. He strolled away and you decided to sort through your bag until he came back. After a few minutes you realised that he hadn’t actually said how long he would be.

You jumped when several loud bangs echoed off the buildings there was a lot of shouting that followed. Hvitserk walked back up to the car, shaking his head as he got into the car, still sipping his beer.

“Did you hear that?” You asked, glancing around to see where the noise had come from.

“Huh? Oh the bang? Yeah that’s one of the places around here, they work on old cars and they backfire pretty loud. He watched you carefully when you thought about what he said.

“Oh.” Was all you said as the clouds gave up and rain poured down so heavily you couldn’t see in front of you.

“Picked a good day to miss the bus.” Hvitserk grumbled as he stared ahead. “I’ll give you a lift home.”

The ride home was awkwardly quiet. You were more than happy to see your houses pull into view. “Thank you.” You said quietly and waited for a response as he rubbed his chin.

“So you were just walking home?” He asked you and leant in, making you nervous.

“I took the wrong turn, I never remember which road it is there’s no sign.” You admitted and started feeling flustered when he sighed and chuckled a little.

“Do me a favour and don’t tell anyone I was down that way? I was supposed to be somewhere else… Aslaug you know.” hvitserk lied so sweetly that you didn’t doubt him.

“Of course! I know how she gets.” You said sheepishly.

He smirked and looked you up and down. It had always amused him that you were more than eager to please. “That’s a good girl.” He said softly and watched you squirm. For good measure he strokes your cheek, leant over a little more and kissed you softly. When a whimper slipped out Hvitserk groaned softly, hand travelling to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. When one of your hands dug into his jacket and the other pulled at the back of his neck, to ensure he deepened the kiss, he had to wander what the hell Ivar did with you all those days up in his room. You were either a needy little thing or Ivar was honestly studying with you. A waist of a nice girl he decided as he pulled away, pushing you off him.

“Well in you go babygirl.” Hvitserk said as he gestured to the house.

He watched you head inside before moving up closer to the Ragnarssons drive. “Hvitserk!” Ivar’s friend said cheerfully as he leaned against the gate. “Good to see you again.” Hvitserk meerly grunted at him as he passed.

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

“Hey!” Ivar called and motioned for his friend. “Two study coffees.” He joked and gestured outside where you were balancing several huge books and trying to order a taxi.

“Oh! Isn’t Hvitserk giving you guys a lift?” The friend popped up causing Ivar to frown. “It’s just he dropped her off yesterday and he’s normally not working today… right?”

“She was home last night… We watched a movie.” Ivar said and shook his head. “You must be thinking of someone else, Hvit always has girls round.”

When the coffees were ready Ivar met you out in the taxi, proudly balancing two coffees under his chin as he tapped through the crowd with his crutches. Once in the car there was a long silence.

“So are you fucking my brother?” Ivar asked and your jaw dropped as you looked at him over the mountain of books between the two of you.

“No!” You spluttered out and Ivar rolled his eyes. “I’m not Ivar honest!”

“So you weren’t with Hvitserk late night?” He smirked when you chose to ignore him. You couldn’t get away with lying to Ivar so you would often choose to ignore him instead. Which was equally flawed.

“We have one more exam and we graduate Ivar, can’t we focus on that?” You said hopefully.

“I can. But you might accidentally wonder off with one of my siblings.” Ivar said quickly, sirking when you started to fidget and flip through the books. “I’ll just ask Hvitserk later.”

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

Hvitserk nodded to the barkeeper who handed him a huge wad of cash. Hvitserk slid him a few bills before he left. “Does mother know what you and Ubbe do or does she not care?” Ivar asked as he shuffled into the room.

“A little of both. What’re you doing here?” Hvitserk asked as Ivar took a seat at the bar.

“Are you fucking (Y/N)?” Ivar asked and Hvitserk scoffed.

“Why, she say we did?” He asked cautiously and Ivar cocked his head with a smile.

“No. she doesn’t know a friend of mine saw you in your car.” Ivar grinned wickedly when his brother realised he was trapped.

“Alright, she missed the bus, it was raining and I gave her a lift. What about it?” Hvitserk snapped and glared at Ivar who gave him an innocent look.

“And you just gave her a lift for free?” both brothers started the other down until Hvitserk shrugged.

“Yeah I did, how low do you think I am to make (Y/N) fuck me for a lift, we both know she’s not getting any. You’re not fucking her, I’m not… maybe your friend is.”  Hvitserk grinned when Ivar rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think so. You’ve done something, she’s gone all love eyed over you. It’s awful.” Ivar complained as hvitserk made him a drink.

“She’ll get over it. Now get out of here I have a meeting.” He said as he poured the drink into a to go cup. “Don’t let mum know you’re drinking again.”

[greennightspider]

Secrets IV: A Crack in the Door

(gif by@honestsycrets, original post here)

Summary: Hvitserk is usually the quiet, mischievous brother. No one really knows what he does, or where he is half of the time, he’s usually an enigma. So what if the reason why….was not an it, but a who?

Author’s Note: This chapter is still prior to present day, also this is a time where Aslaug is still Queen of Kattegat and Lagertha is perfectly happy in Hedeby.

Previous Chapters: Secrets, Secrets II, Secrets III,  Secrets V, Secrets VI

Taglist: @laketaj24 @cbouvier23 @grungyblonde @badwolf-in-the-impala @tephi101 @readsalot73​ @therealcalicali​ @tomarisela​

Hvitserk x Rumena (OC)

“So how did you know my language?”

Hvitserk and Rumena were cuddled under the furs, letting the morning sun wake them as they let the morning pass them by.

“Different men want different things. Some like silence, some like it loud, and some like talking.” Yawned and snuggled more into the crook of Hvitserk’s arm. While she had been there for almost two weeks the cold was hard to get used to, and she was grateful that Hvitserk was as warm as a fire. “We had to learn different languages for different customers. We were not fluent, but we knew phrases that mattered.”

Hvitserk raised his eyebrow. “Show me?”

Mena returned the sly grin and so straddled her lover’s hips , Hvitserk instinctualy placing his hands on her thick thighs. She then began to slowly grind on his hardening morning wood, letting the furs fall so her upper body and chest were on show.. “Oh yes. Yes, yes!” She moaned.

Hvitserk’s mouth instantly became dry as he gulped.

"Oh please master, fill me with your thick cock!” Mena gasped with closed eyes as she drew her pussy back and forth over Hvitserk’s clothed dick. “It’s so hard, oh I love the way you fill me with your seed, you make me feel so good-”

“Okay thats it.”

Mena giggled as Hvitserk swiftly threw Mena onto her back beside her, littering her with kisses as he freed his dick from his trousers. Hvitserk watched as she bit her lip in pleasure while he sunk into her, loving the way her nails grew tighter in his skin with every inch.

“One more time, from the top.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ivar peered at Hvitserk from across the hall as he twirled his cup of ale. While Ivar was a fighter, he was also a thinker. And one thing he could not stand is a problem that he couldn’t figure out.

“Have you all noticed something strange about our brother Hvitserk?”

Sigurd rolled his eyes, while Ubbe looked up from where he sat sharpening his arrows, while Bjorn looked at him curiously with a spoonful of porridge. “No. Why do you ask, brother Ivar?”

Ubbe chuckled but Ivar remained unfazed. “Ever since we came back from the raid he either wants nothing to do with us, or he leaves for a journey and comes back like he has just been mooned by Freya.”

“Ivar has a point.” Sigurd huffed.

Ivar extended his hand towards Sigurd. “Thank you!”

“Well something must be wrong of you two are agreeing with each other,” Ubbe pointed his arrow towards his two younger siblings.

“Whatever it is, Hvitserk will let us know if its anything serious.” Bjorn said through his mouthful. 

“I mean we all have our secrets,”Bjorn’s eyes flicked to his youngest brother. “Right Ivar?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hvitserk, there is something I want to talk to you about.”

A hidden figure silently watched through the cracks as Hvitserk stopped lacing his boots and stared up at Mena’s conflicted face, knowing she would only call him by his name when it was serious. “What is it about?”

She nervously sat next to him on the bed, her eyes studying the floor. “I want to go to Kattegat.”

Hvitserk instantly shot up. “No.”

“But Viseka-”

“Its too dangerous.”

“But I am better now!” She protested, standing up to bring her hands to his chest. “And even though I am very happy with you here, I would like to meet people, to see your world.” Mena smiled half-heartedly. “I do not want to feel like a caged bird.”

Hvitserk slumped at her words. “I know. Its just... I cannot speak for all of Kattegat in what they would think of you.” 

“I do not care what they think.”

Hvitserk sighed cupped her face lovingly. “And you are so beautiful. Surely one of my other, stronger, sturdier brothers would try to woo you-”

“But I am yours Viseka, and yours alone.” She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose. “I like this nose.” She kissed both his ears, making him chuckle. “I like these ears.” Then Mena almost knelt down to her knees. “And I like this di-”

“Okay okay! I get it!” Hvitserk laughed. And unbeknownst to them the figure watched from outside as Hvitserk grabbed Mena in a bear hug.

“Come with me then. There are some people I would want you to meet.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hvitserk!” 

Helga exclaimed cheerfully as she embraced the young prince fondly, squeezing his shoulders. “You’ve grown so much it is good to see you!”

“Helga, I have brought someone with me for you to meet.” Hvitserk stepped aside and let Helga see Rumena, who smiled shyly with her hands behind her back. “Hello.”

Helga’s mouth was slightly agape as she took in the girl before her. “This is Rumena.” Hvitserk gestured for her to come forward. “She is my friend. I found her on the raids.”

Nose to nose Mena was nervous that Helga’s shock would turn into fear, anger, or even hate. but Helga simply came forward and gently felt her hair in her hands. Rumena let her pat her head and caress her face. “So strange to us... and so beautiful.” 

Mena let out a relieved chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Come, both of you,” Helga said not letting go of Mena’s hand. “You can come and meet my husband. Floki!” She called out.

Floki all of a sudden jumped from his place in the trees right in front of Mena, making her scream and fall backwards. She tried to catch her breath as she stared at the gangly man in front of her, who copied her head movements as she turned it this way and that. 

Hvitserk rushed to help Mena on her feet. “Floki, this is-”

“Oh I know who it is.” The boat builder smiled devilishly. “Do you think no one saw you two as you cuddled at night on the boat?”

Floki chuckled as the two youngsters looked both shocked and embarrassed. “Come come come come.” 

As Mena walked with Helga into their home Floki came up to Hvitserk, who was looking relieved. “I am glad you approve Floki.”

“If Helga approves then so do I.” Floki chuckles. “You know what they say,” he looked up and down at Hvitserk with a puppy dog face. “When a woman doesn’t lack, no axe in your back.”

[levithestripper]

BABES ITS SO GOOD OH MY GOD

“Athelstan knew it was. He did not know why Alethia had not come after him, had perhaps chosen to stay in Wessex, with Ecbert, but he did know that he had left her behind, left in a rush to be reunited with his friends.”

shush

“Perhaps he would have spent some of them kissing her.”

AJHAASHHHHHHHHHH

“You are sad.” Aslaug observed. “About your woman.”

this is so unreasonably funny for no reason

“Alethia complained in her sleep, but still rolled right into his arms. Automatically, his hands went to the small but growing bump on her stomach, and Athelstan smiled.”

incomprehensible screaming

“With a groan, Athelstan pulled himself up from the edge of the table in search of water. Not long after he found it, Ragnar found him, staring at Athelstan with a smirk so amused that Athelstan would have liked to wipe it off of him very much.”

with a ki—*gunshots*

“What? Common? Who cares, get over here and comfort your wife for Christ’s sake.”

REALLL YOU TELL HIM ALETHIA

““Jon.” Alethia blurted out before she could stop herself.”

OOOOOOOO

“Athelstan… he would not believed it had she told him, but he was easy to fall in love with.”

Thats what i‘ve been saying!!!!

the whole ending with alethia’s dream sequence in singapore was so cool?????? i love how it compares to athelstan’s, showing where each of them is emotionally in the relationship, and how they’re dealing with being separated.

ch. 6 – tyr (to teach)

summary: life apart

warnings: pregnancy stuff, angst (really? omg that's so crazy)

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world

general masterlist | series masterlist

Athelstan

“Women are as fickle as the moon.” Ragnar had told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and smiling sympathetically. Athelstan had wanted to protest. What did Ragnar know of Alethia?

When Alethia had not come to the encampment of the Northmen, Bjorn, Rollo, Lagertha, Torstein - even Floki - had offered their sympathies, said a few kind words and assured him that it was not his fault.

Athelstan knew it was. He did not know why Alethia had not come after him, had perhaps chosen to stay in Wessex, with Ecbert, but he did know that he had left her behind, left in a rush to be reunited with his friends.

His family.

He would not blame her if she did not forgive him. Athelstan thought he could have, but he was Athelstan. There were not many people who thought like him, and Alethia had anger written into her very bones.

She would never forgive him.

The return to Kattegat felt flat without her. For months, Athelstan had thought of what to do here with Alethia, after showing her around and introducing her to everyone. He knew she would have gotten along well with Hvitserk and Ubbe, taking her time to play with them when Aslaug could not and Ragnar was too busy to. She would have known some remedy or another to soothe Ivar. 

He could have shown her his longhouse, the sketches he kept hidden away. She would have understood. Perhaps Athelstan could have shown Alethia the forests, climbed the cliffs surrounding the bay. He knew she would have liked to swim at the shores, to ride out into the lands surrounding Kattegat, to spend a few days doing nothing at all.

Perhaps he would have spent some of them kissing her. 

Absentmindedly, Athelstan held a hand out to Lagertha, helping her onto the docks. She only gave him another pitied smile.

“That girl has no idea what she was giving up.” She said quietly.

“I should have stayed.” Athelstan replied, voice thick. “She never would have… She is loyal, like you.”

“I left as well.” Lagertha reminded.

“That was different.”

“It was.” She nodded. “Perhaps your… perhaps she was simply afraid.”

“Then I should have given her courage!” Athelstan protested. He felt like a child, like he always did with Lagertha. 

“There will be another.”

Athelstan stayed quiet for a moment, anger making his skin burn. You know that is not true, Lagertha. You of all people.

He watched her leave, with her shieldmaidens, watched as the men carried the spoils of war to the great hall, watched the celebrations and numbly drank from his cup. Being a monk should have protected him from this. It was precisely why he had sworn a vow. So something like this would not happen.

Then again, when had his vow ever saved him from anything?

Athelstan was about to stand and leave when Aslaug sat down next to him, away from the music and the loud crowd. She gave him a rare smile.

“Princess.” Athelstan said quickly.

“Priest.” Aslaug mused, carefully adjusting Ivar in her arms. Athelstan had never told her how he admired her for her strength, for saving Ivar from the forest and the foxes. Alethia would have said that it was simply a mother’s love, and smiled at him for not understanding that kind of courage. Athelstan stayed quiet because he did not think it was his place.

“You are sad.” Aslaug observed. “About your woman.”

“How fast word spreads.”

“So it is true.” Aslaug replied. “I did not hear it from the mouth of Ragnar.”

“Who then?” Athelstan asked.

“The Gods. I dreamt of her, you know.” Aslaug told him. Athelstan paused, setting down his mead.

“Truly?”

“A girl in a dark forest.” Aslaug mused. “A shieldmaiden on a battlefield, surrounded by the dead. Her friends, her children, her lover. She is the storm, priest, and you the lone sailor. She deals in absolutes, in death and life. They are the only two things she can give. But you are willing to take both from her, aren’t you?”

The silence between them was uncomfortably quiet, but then, Aslaug laughed. “But since when do you believe in the Gods, priest?”

When it came to Alethia, Athelstan was ready to believe just about anything.

He only gave Aslaug a forced smile, and took another sip of his mead, until his world began to spin.

In the months to come, Aslaug was not the only one haunted by Alethia. Athelstan dreamt of her, the night he returned and many others.

It was always the same, even after more than half a year of his return, in the deepest of winters.

Athelstan opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the walls. It was warm, and specks of dust danced in the light. Gone were the heavy furs of winter, gone the cold. 

Summer had returned to Kattegat. He was not sure why he had not left with the others to raid, only that it was right he had remained.

He turned to his right, and there was his wife, still peacefully sleeping. Athelstan smiled, slipping out of bed quietly so that he would not wake her. From the longhouse, it was only a few steps to the shore of their hidden bay, where she loved to swim.

Athelstan had chosen the house for Alethia the day they’d returned to Kattegat together. He thought that she knew, the information hidden in her teasing smiles.

He prayed for her happiness that morning, just like every other, before he thanked God for his. 

The songbirds chirped, and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. One of Alethia’s cats brushed by his legs, and Athelstan petted it absentmindedly. It purred, languishing in the rising sun and under his touch, and Athelstan picked it up, setting it down in his lap.

“You’re getting fat.” he mused under his breath, and the cat purred in agreement. “My wife is much too kind to you. You know what she said? She said that you are our health insurance, and that is why she spoils you so. Though I am not sure how you’ll hunt rats when all you do is beg for pets all day.”

Alethia had named the cat ‘Garfield’, a word which Athelstan could barely pronounce, but as the ginger tabby grew more and more spoilt, Alethia’s grin over its name grew wider and wider, which was reason enough for Athelstan to keep to the name.

Eventually, Athelstan returned to the longhouse, washing his hands before he slipped back under the covers.

Alethia complained in her sleep, but still rolled right into his arms. Automatically, his hands went to the small but growing bump on her stomach, and Athelstan smiled.

Right. That was why he’d stayed.

“Husband.” Alethia mumbled teasingly, sleep thickening her voice. “Can’t let your poor wife sleep, huh?”

“Do you wish to lounge in bed all day?” Athelstan asked in return. “You know my conscience does not allow it.”

“Workaholic.” Alethia replied, and Athelstan remembered precisely how she’d taught him the word when she’d first come to England. He knew those months as if they had been yesterday, even if, now, they were years behind.

Gently, he cupped her face, kissing her. Alethia returned the kiss with a fervor that still made Athelstan blush like a monk, languid and slow, throwing her leg over his waist and trying to get impossibly close to him.

“How is the little one?” he asked after a while.

“Wonderful, I’d say. Its mother however… she could use some care.” Alethia replied jokingly, and Athelstan pressed a few light kisses against her neck, to which Alethia giggled like a girl. His hands combed through her hair gently, scratching her scalp until Alethia was practically purring like their cat.

“Gyda will be complaining that she has to come back home. She likes sleeping over with Sigurd and Ivar far too much.” Alethia mumbled.

“Gyda also loves Garfield.” Athelstan reminded. “She is the reason the poor cat has to take baths.”

“One day, she’ll realise that cats don’t like water.” Alethia laughed, and Athelstan joined her. The thought of their daughter reminded him that there were reasons to get out of bed after all.

He threw the covers back, starting to get dressed. Alethia was still in bed, eyes closed and hair splayed out like a halo. A small smile was playing on her lips. Athelstan turned his back, washing his hands again before he grabbed his jacket from the cabinet.

Suddenly, Alethia caught his wrist.

“What is-” Athelstan began.

“You left me behind.” Alethia said, eyes filling with tears. “You left me behind!”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, Alethia, my love, I am so sorry.”

“Find me. Swear you’ll find me!”

Athelstan nodded, pulling her into his arms. She smelled of lavender and soap, and a hint of rain, like always, but to his horror, the smell was already beginning to fade. He held her tighter, as if that would stop her from disappearing. She was slipping through his fingers. He needed to- 

“Find me.” Alethia whispered. “Find me, or all your sins will have been for nothing.”

Athelstan awoke with a start, a pounding headache beginning to drill his head, and the screams of Ivar doing nothing to soothe the pain. His heart was pounding in his chest, as if he had just come out of battle, and his mouth was so dry he swore ha hadn’t had anything to drink in months.

With a groan, Athelstan pulled himself up from the edge of the table in search of water. Not long after he found it, Ragnar found him, staring at Athelstan with a smirk so amused that Athelstan would have liked to wipe it off of him very much.

“What?” Athelstan groaned, his world still spinning a little. Foggily, he began to remember that Torstein had challenged him to a drinking game and Athelstan had, for unknown reasons, accepted.

“You look like one of us.”

“Like a Viking?”

“Like a lovesick, hungover fool.”

“I am not lovesick, nor am I hungover.” Athelstan lied.

“The headache will pass,” Ragnar observed in that acutely unnerving manner he possessed. “The ailment of your heart will not.”

Little shit.

“Thank you, Ragnar. Helpful, as always.” Athelstan chewed out, and he swore his jaw clicked each time he spoke. 

“Come, we must train.” Ragnar said, and Athelstan let out a groan louder than he had intended.

“Do you not want to?” Ragnar asked.

“It is cold.” Athelstan pointed out.

“Ah, yes, the cold. But how else are you going to steal your bride in the coming summer?” Ragnar prodded. Athelstan could only stare blankly, before a somewhat smart thought came to mind.

“She’s not a woman that can be stolen.” Athelstan replied rather quietly, and he knew that it was true. For one, he could not steal Alethia because she was simply more skilled than him. And then, Athelstan knew that it was gentleness and love which she craved, not strength. Ragnar would not understand, for it had been the reason he had lost Lagertha.

“Then let us hope she does not loosen a bear on you.” Ragnar replied, clapping Athelstan on the back. Still, Ragnar dragged him into the cold. Athelstan heard Ivar wail again, the feeling that Ragnar was leaving the hall because of his child creeping up on him uncomfortably. Athelstan promised himself that he would help Ivar with his pains when he returned to the Great Hall.

Surely there was something Alethia had once mentioned in passign that could help. Were she here, she would have tried.

Alethia

Eadith’s labor began during a blizzard so terrible that one of the grain stores had broken under the pressure of the snow and wind. Still, Alethia had pulled herself from the humble abode she shared with a few other unmarried women and dragged herself through half the village, until, finally, a panting Heahmund raised his fist to knock on the door next to her.

It was Finnian who ripped open the door, face pale and hands shaking with fear. Eadith’s  groans of pains were to be heard from the background, and Alethia pushed her meagre supplies into Finnian’s hands.

Women squat in fucking fields to have babies and survive. she told herself, but it was a sorry excuse for not having the right medicine for Eadith. It was the middle of winter, and yet, Alethia could not help but feel that she had not done enough.

“Eadith?” Alethia asked, crossing the room. Heahmund was pressed against the door uncomfortably, but Alethia had no time to take care of a soldier uncomfortable with life. 

There was a groan from the back end of the house, where Eadith had lied down. Alethia pushed past a nervous, fidgeting Finnian, dropping her things at Eadith’s side.

“Breathe.” Alethia huffed, and Eadith nodded, vigorously trying to follow her advice through the pain. Alethia waved over Finnian, who stepped towards his wife gingerly.

“Hold her hand.” Alethia said.

Finnian paused. “It is not-“

“What? Common? Who cares, get over here and comfort your wife for Christ’s sake.” Alethia replied, cutting him off. Finnian hesitantly looked over to Heahmund, before he seemingly made a choice and sat on Eadith’s other side, grabbing her hand gently. 

“Am I alright?” Eadith asked nervously. A sheen layer of sweet covered her forehead, and she was somewhat pale, but other than that…

“What do you think?” Alethia replied gently, shuffling through her supplies and pulling out a small piece of leather.

“Well, it hurts but…” Eadith groaned. “God, it hurts so much.”

“I know. Well, there’s a baby wanting to come into the world, so it will hurt, but I promise you, you are doing just fine. Amazingly, for a woman whose contractions are so close together.” Alethia assured.

“How many babies have you delivered, Hagar?” Eadith asked.

“Many.” Alethia lied smoothly, and that seemed to soothe Eadith’s nerves. Truth was, Alethia was the only one who came close to knowing how to help Eadith, apart from the older women in the village.

Alethia turned to Heahmund. “Go get Ethelfleda.” She snapped, referring to Eadith’s aunt, and the woman with the most children in the village. Carefully, she helped Eadith lean back, before she checked for dilation.

“You’re doing good.” Alethia assured, and Eadith nodded, her face red as she concentrated on her breathing. Alethia took her hand almost automatically. Eadith was barely a year younger than her, and yet, they were immature in such different ways.

Alethia wished she could take her pain away. Eadith did not deserve it, not when she was so good, so kind. But, Alethia supposed, this was part of what Eadith wanted. She shuddered at the thought of going through it herself.

Almost, she would have had to.

Ethelfleda burst into the house with a sharp gust of cold wind, snow still dancing outside. Heahmund pressed himself back into the wall by the entrance, but to his credit, the young priest stayed. 

Alethia moved to make space for Ethelfleda, who gave her an acknowledging nod. The older woman’s look at Alethia’s supplies told her that they were satisfactory.

Like Alethia, Ethelfleda checked for dilation, before she helped Eadith count her contractions.

“You need to push.” Ethelfleda finally announced, and Alethia swallowed her fear. Eadith was going to be alright.

“Here.” Alethia said, offering Eadith a helping hand while Ethelfleda went through her supplies, pushing a thick band of leather into Eadith’s mouth. It was meant to keep men from biting off their tongues during amputations, but Alethia supposed it would suffice.

She let Eadith squeeze her wrist until Alethia was sure there was no blood left, and prayed, prayed to the God Eadith believed in that she would stay alive.

Hours later, the child was finally there. Alethia smiled at Eadith, then Ethelfleda, who did not return the expression, instead focusing on Eadith.

“There is another. You have to push again.” Ethelfleda told Eadith.

“I can’t.” Eadith cried, tear-tracks on her face, hair stuck to her skin in exhaustion.

“You have to.” Alethia said, taking the baby from Ethelfleda’s arms. She gave it to Eadith, who smiled.

“A boy.” She whispered, her face lighting up. Alethia let her bask in the moment for a few seconds, before she forced her out of it again.

“There is another.” She said, echoing Ethelfleda. Eadith shook her head.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Alethia said. Carefully, she took the boy out of Eadith’s hands, who tried to struggle against Alethia. Alethia handed Finnian the baby, helping him hold his son for the first time. There was a beaming look of pride on Finnian’s face as he held the baby, unable to say anything.

Alethia’s heart ached.

She returned to Eadith’s side.

“Listen to me. I know you’re tired, Eadith, but you have to fight that now. There is another baby, just as beautiful as your son. You have to push.”

“I’ll die. It hurts so much.” Eadith replied, her hands struggling to hold onto Alethia.

“God is good. You’ll live, so will your son.” Alethia said.

“What else is there?” Eadith whispered. “If there is only God, I am still afraid. He is a man, and I am not.”

“We are women, and this is your battlefield.” Alethia replied. “Behind you, there is an army. All of them have survived what you survived. They are your sisters, your mothers, your daughters. In front of you is the darkness. Do you see it, Eadith?”

“Yes.” Eadith pressed out.

“Does it scare you?”

“Like nothing else.”

“Good. You must face that now. Go through the darkness, and come out on the other side. Fight. We are all here for you.” Alethia told her. To her right, Ethelfleda smiled up at Eadith, before squeezing her ankle in encouragement. Eadith seemed to consider Alethia’s words for a moment, before she nodded.

“Alright.” She said. 

“Push.” Ethelfleda encouraged again, and in that moment, Alethia knew she could have commanded an army. It was enough to give Eadith strength.

The second child came more quickly, and again, Alethia handed him to Eadith.

“Two sons!” Eadith exclaimed happily as both of them lied in her arms. She was pale, but as Alethia checked her again, she was not bleeding profusely, nor were there any worrying tears.

“She’s alright. Healthy.” Ethelfleda said, relieved. “She deserves it.”

It is not about deserving. Alethia thought to herself, but she only nodded.

“What shall we name them?” Finnian asked Eadith.

“Jon.” Alethia blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Eadith smiled. “John and Godwin.” She whispered. Heahmund, who had stayed closeby for the entire process stepped closer, quickly christening the children.

It was winter, and from the way Ethelfleda’s lips pressed together, Alethia knew the older woman did not think the two boys would make it very far.

…

By Easter, both boys were alive. Alethia helped Eadith where she could, when she did not attend to Baldwin’s bad leg or Clothilda, the little girl that was slowly losing her vision. Ethelfleda thought that she would die, too, but Alethia refused to accept that.

Her days were spent between Eadith’s house, and Clothilda’s, where she tried her best to find something the girl could do blind. She knew trying to have her work in the fields would only end in futility, and so would most of the other menial tasks in the village.

Which was how Alethia found herself speaking with Heahmund.

She had avoided the priest for a reason. He was unnerving, dangerous, and Alethia thought that he knew she did not truly believe in God.

“A nunnery?” Heahmund asked, his brows drawing together.

“Somewhere in the country where she’ll be safe from the Mercian war and the raids of the Northmen. Clothilda will never be able to work a field or herd sheep or know her way around cows properly. For all her life, the people around her will have to help her to find things, make sure she will not injure herself. What if a famine befalls the land? She’ll be the first they set out.” Alethia replied. 

“Is that what you think?”

“She is the oldest of five, but she is a girl. Her father sees her as a burden. But, Clothilda is a smart girl. She’s seven years old and understands far more of the world than her peers. In a nunnery, she could find her place. You know it, and you could find her a new home.”

“What do her parents think of it?” Heahmund asked, sharpening the blade of his sword carefully.

“I have not asked them.” Alethia admitted. “I have only spoken to Clothilda.”

“I see what you do here.” Heahmund replied.

“And what is that?”

“You try to save everyone. God will save us all, you do know that, right?” 

“At some point, yes.” Alethia replied rather dryly. “But he’s a little busy right now. So many poor Mercian souls.”

A smile tugged at Heahmund’s mouth as he heard her joke. Then, he regained control. 

“I shall consider your words.” He promised.

“Good.”

“In return, you have to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” Alethia asked.

“That which you have kept from us. I know you have secrets. I would like to know whatever you are hiding. Did your late husband gift you that pretty knife of yours, or did you steal that yourself?”

“Are you calling me a thief?” Alethia snapped.

“Only a liar.” Heahmund replied calmly. He was right, Alethia knew that, but she could not admit it plainly.

“I’ll teach you.” She promised.

“Good. We will begin after Easter.” Heahmund said. “Good day, Hagar.”

Her late husband. She thought.

Jon. Athelstan.

One was her true late husband, the other a man she had lied to and about.

Alethia felt the guilt creep in like the cold, slowly but no less uncomfortable. It was then that she was forced to think about just how evilly she’d betrayed Jon. How long had it been after he died? Half a year? A year, perhaps? She’d already moved on, had not even forced herself to mourn. 

She shook her head. No, she had mourned. She thought she still did. Jon was gone and Athelstan… he would not believed it had she told him, but he was easy to fall in love with. He was in Kattegat now, where he was free of Ecbert and the guilt of his God that haunted him here. Alethia hoped he was happy there. A part of her hoped that he would fall in love with some other woman, one that could love him as he deserved, and not one that was torn between people, times and worlds. 

But it would have been wrong to tell herself that she did not hope he would come back. Of course she did. Eadith, Clothilda, Finnian, even Ethelfleda, they were all a sort of family here. These people in the village, they had taken her in, as the widow of a good Christian man. 

Alethia had told them that she would leave, time and time again. None of them were thinking about that now. They were relying on her, with their aches and pains and bad legs and sore throats, and none of them were thinking about her leaving. Summer would come in a few months, and Alethia would go South. Her hair had grown back, her shoulder had healed, her scars had become more stark against her tan skin. She knew she looked even older than she had before.

Ecbert would recognize her if she shaved her head and disfigured her mouth. So would Athelstan. There was no use. Alethia knew she had to return to the villa, to Wessex, if she wanted to find the Northmen. 

She loved the people in this village, there was no doubting that. But this was not her place. Alethia was meant for something bigger, and she did not think that because she was confident in her ability of fulfilling fate, but because she had been thrown around in some multiversal chaos she never otherwise would have believed in. 

Alethia twirled her knife in her hands, looking back to where Heahmund had been. From the edge of the village, she could see Eadith and Finnian walking towards the fountain, and Ethelfleda guiding her children towards the church. The bells rung, and Alethia drew up her shoulders.

It was time for Easter mass.

***

Singapore was loud, hot and humid, the air heavy enough that if you came back home from holiday, you could have told you were home the moment you stepped into the airport. There was something about Alethia’s home that made it distinguishable from the rest of the world, a smell that told her just where she was.

But God, Singapore was busy as well. Alethia had gotten stuck somewhere near Orchard, on a Saturday, in a mall, and she swore that there were so many people she could barely breathe, let alone move. From the food court behind her, the smell of food made her stomach rumble, and yet, Alethia turned away, towards the escalators rolling into oblivion.

Now that she looked at them, they were kind of silly. Who came up with something like that? 

Regardless, Alethia stepped onto the moving stairs, letting them transport her up until she made it to the next level.  There’s a french café to her right. 

‘Paul’s’, Alethia thought, the name dim in the back of her mind. ‘The place is called Paul’s. I used to go there with my mom. She bought me one of those overpriced croissants, but at least they were crispy like they’re supposed to be, and not soggy and full of grease. Once, I got a nutella crepe. 

Alethia wasn’t sure why there was a lump in her throat. She just kept walking, and the brown logo over the doorway faded away. A few more turns, another hallway, and then, she stepped outside.

The street was buzzing, and Alethia was quick to cross it at a traffic light. A taxi driver stopped for her at the second road, and she raised her hand in a quick ‘thank you’ gesture. By the time she stood before the gates of the Botanical Gardens, sweat beaded her forehead.

Alethia plucked at the coat she was wearing. Why a coat? This was Singapore, not some cold, icy hellscape like the Wall, or, God forbid, Wessex in the winter.

She made a few more steps before she froze. Wessex. Singapore. The Wall. Alethia looked back up, and with a panic, she realized that the smell of home was gone. The heat was still there, and so was the greenery so typical to Botanical Gardens, but something wasn’t…

“Alethia?”

She turned around, and there stood Athelstan.

…right.

“Athelstan.” she breathed out. Each step she took towards him, the scenery changed. 

Athelstan was gone again, but Alethia stood in front of a church, and she knew who waited inside. Behind her, there was a hearttree, the weeping face of an Old God carved into its bark.

The choice was simple. The Old Gods, or God. The North or Earth. Jon or Athelstan.

But the Hearttree was dying, it was so simple to see from the mold that climbed its roots. Sansa had turned out to be like that, and Jon was already dead. The church stood tall, and Athelstan was inside.

Alethia slipped into the cool dark. It was safe there, though the cross loomed from the altar.

“Child, why have you come here?” a voice asked. It belonged to Athelstan. 

“I am not a child.”

“You are. A sweet summer child, a crone beyond her years.” Athelstan replied.

“I have come to… I have come to make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“I choose you, Athelstan. I am sorry.” Alethia whispered. Her words floated through the cool air, delicate whisps of nothing. The wind washed them away, and Alethia knew that they were meaningless. Athelstan wasn’t really there. There was nothing to truly confess.

Alethia walked towards the altar, too impatient to wait for Athelstan to appear. 

“I am here.” Athelstan said, and Alethia turned. There he was, right in the first row, dressed in the robe of a priest with pious, folded hands. Even from where she stood, Alethia could see the scars of his crucifixion.

She touched his hands gently, like always. “I choose you.” she repeated, and Athelstan smiled.

“I knew you would.”

“You’re not real.”

“Then I am you.” Athelstan said. “Which means you always knew your answer, too.”

[come-with-me-and-imagine]

Vikings and Magic Potions...Don’t Mix

special thanks to @pandainfinitely for making the collage and Collaborating with me. :) 

Also special thanks to @bonniebird for her inspiring this crazy story. Check out her Kitty Vikings story! It is wonderful and adorable and hot at the same time! You can find it HERE 

(Y/N) was hard at work as she usually was right before winter was to hit. She spent most hours of the day making healing poultices sleep draughts and anything in between that the people of Kattegat might ask of her. She was of the same kind as Aslaug. She had the gift, but not of foresight, but of healing. Her small house was filled with jars of herbs and things.

As she was in the middle of grinding herbs when there was a knock at the door. (Y/N) sighed in annoyance. She hated being disturbed while she was working. Once the door opened she saw four familiar faces looking at and up at her. “Can I help you boys?” she asked playfully with crossed arms over her chest.

“We were bored, so, we came to see our favorite person,” Hvitserk said with a smile as he walked into her house. A kiss was placed on her cheek causing her to roll her eyes.

“Oh, lucky me. So, you only come here when you are bored and you want some play time is that it?” Her voice teased him further.

“Oh, you know it, my dear,” Sigurd responded next before he too kissed her cheek and entering her home. Ubbe followed next with a kiss as well.

“Hello, Ivar.” (Y/N) said softly before bending down and kissing his head. Ivar, being the clever one, quickly kissed her lips before he walked inside with a smirk.

“Hello to you to my darling.” He said causing her to roll her eyes again.

“I am afraid, however; that I don’t have time to entertain you today. I’ve got a long list of things to put together for the villagers.” This piqued Ivar’s interest. He had always been more interested in (Y/N)’s work than his brothers.

“Can we help?”

(Y/N) froze on her way back to her work table. A mild panic sat in at the thought of them tampering with the many things she had in the jars. But, she knew Ivar wouldn’t let this go. “If, you promise not to mess about and do exactly as I say. Understood?” She asked of them glancing at each one with a serious expression. Her work was delicate as a potion maker. All four looked at her and muttered their responses. Turning slowly, she went back to her to do list. She needed to figure out something easy for them to do.

Most of the potions were pain draughts and poultice along with a few other things to help the people to get through the winter. So she asked Ubbe, since he was the tallest, to grab a jar from the top shelf. As he did so (Y/N) started to hear the brothers starting to bicker once more. Normally when the brothers bicker it was something she tends to ignore it. It was a common reoccurrence that didn’t really bothered her. Until she heard a loud crash. 

Looking over she saw one of her shelves had completely fallen over. There was a cloud of something in the air as the potions and herbs started mixing. “What have you done?!” She shouted as she got closer. “Honestly! Could you all behave like--” She gasped when the cloud of magic had disappeared. Standing before her the boys but not as they had been. 

The boys had been turned into dogs. More specifically...puppies. 

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[lupy22]

It's Better When It Feels Wrong 9

Summary: The Reader finally meets the infamous Lagertha. Warnings: little arguing, triggering (Bjorn is a little pervert and reader  receives a hidden non-con threat that may be triggering so please read with caution.) Smut, fingering, Ivar has turned dark! Possessive!Ivar, dub-con

Word Count: 2,017

Author: Lupy22

Part 1.       Part 2.     Part 3.   Part 4.    Part 5.    Part 6.    Part 7                 

Part 8

"Come. It is time for you to meet the lady of the house." Bjorn stood up from his seat. You remained completely still and darted your eyes towards the open window. Bjorn didn't give you a chance to bolt. He shook his head and reached down to grab you. You dug your heels in the mattress and tried to crawl backwards but he was tall and fast. He gripped your arms and yanked you off the bed before slinging you over his shoulder like a puppy.  

"Hey! Put me down!" You pounded your fists into his back and kicked your feet. "Keep it up. I like 'em when they kick." Bjorn commented. You nearly barfed after his comment and stopped struggling. You watched the floor and noticed he was taking you towards the kitchen. There were women all dressed in fancy suits and dresses. They were everywhere. On the stairs, in the hallway, in the dinning room and when you got to the kitchen Bjorn placed you on your feet and turned you around. It was there you had come face to face with the queen. She had long beautiful blonde hair and gentle blue eyes. She wore a dark red dress that clung to her body and then puffed out at the waist. She certainly was dressed like a queen. You would give her that. She had two champagne glasses and held one out to you. "You must be Y/N. Would you like something to calm your nerves? You look a little scared." You shook your head. Her eyes went right to your stomach and on instinct, put a protective hand over your hardening belly. Lagertha put both glasses of champagne down on the counter behind her. "I see. I bet this is your first child too." She commented. "What's it to you?" You questioned. Her lips curled in a warning smile and started to approach you. You tried to step back but a pair of big strong hands clamped down on your shoulders to keep you still. "Children are precious. They grow so fast and although they can give you a hard time they always make you proud in the end." As Lagertha spoke she brought her beautiful blue eyes up to Bjorn who was holding you down. She placed a hand over yours. "I do not want to hurt you or this child. In fact, I don't want to hurt any of the prince's of Kattegate." You couldn't believe this. Her words made you stiffen as you searched her face. "Then why are you here?" "Im here to take back my throne. You probably don't know but Aslaug had taken everything from me. Thats why I killed her." Lagertha began to explain. You shook your head. Lagertha moved her hand to your face. "Don't worry Y/N, you won't be here forever. I know they will be back. I will allow Ivar to take you with him. As long as he agrees to cooperate and accept me as the new ruler of Kattegate." "And if he doesn't?" You wondered. She clicked her tongue. Almost as if on cue, Bjorn began to rub your shoulders. The feeling made you squirm. He brought you closer to his chest and you felt your eyes water. "Would you like to talk with Ivar? Perhaps you can persuade him." Queen Lagertha asked. "Yes." You tried getting out of Bjorns tight grip. "Yes, please!" Bjorn growled beside your ear. "Yes, please." You were about to cry at that moment. Lagertha finally nodded her head and Bjorn released you. Bjorn pulled out the phone and handed it to you. You heard ringing from the other end of the phone. It only rang once and them you heard a loud phone go off simultaneously from across the room. Bjorn released you and searched his eyes through the crowd of women. The ringing of Ivars phone got louder and it was followed by a strong thumping sound. The First thing you noticed was women parting to create a path, then you saw Ubbe with a crow bar swinging in his left hand. Ivar came in behind him with two blades he was digging into the tiled floor and dragging himself closer to you. You wanted to laugh from the relief that tickled your stomach. You wanted to turn to Lagertha and stick your tongue at her like a 5 - year- old. More importantly you wanted to punch Bjorn in the face. Hvitserk popped up from the crowd with a girl wrapped in his arms with a dagger at her throat. Sigurd came up from behind you and placed a hand gently on your arm. A few men that you didn't recognize emerged with weapons in their hands. Lagertha didn't show any signs of a worry. She kept her head held high and brought her eyes down to Ivar who pulled himself up onto a chair. "Ivar, welcome back." She leaned against the counter. "You made a mistake coming to my home while I was away. You made an even bigger mistake bringing Y/N into this." Ivar growled. Somewhere in the midst of everything going on Bjorn had left your side and when he returned he had a herd of men following him. Where the hell did all the people come from? The place had suddenly became flooded with many faces unknown to you. Your hands trembled as your eyes searched the room. It was starting to get hard to breath. Your mind went into a set of panic and your heart nearly pounded right out of your chest. "Brothers. . . If you kill her then you will have to kill me too." Bjorn walked up to Ubbe and Ivar with a big axe in his hand. "Maybe we should." Ivar sneered. Ubbe clutched his weapon. "Shut up!" He growled between clenched teeth. The second eldest son looked at Bjorn. "She killed our mother." Although his words were quiet they held a dark threat behind them. "I know and I would want revenge too." He dangled the axe for a few minutes before he gripped it tight and pressed the blade to Ivars cheek. Why was he just sitting there? Why wasn't he doing something? "But we must focus on getting revenge for our father. . . That is why I am here." Ubbe lowers his weapon as if he completely forgot about everything else. Ivar grunts angrily and slammed his blade into the table beside him. "And my brothers. . . We will get revenge." Bjorn vowed. *** "Did anyone hurt you?" Ivar asked in the back of the SUV. You looked out the window and shook your head. "I just want to go wherever we are going and take a nice long hot shower." You wanted to miraculously scrub off the feeling of Bjorns hands on your shoulders. You wanted so bad to tell Ivar of the hidden threat that had been placed upon you. But for the sake of peace you kept your mouth shut. Bjorn and his mother had outnumbered Ivar and all his men. You couldn't risk their lives. You couldn't be so selfish. "Where are we going?" You questioned. "To our cabin far away. Not even Lagertha knows of it. You will be safe." He assured. You couldn't stop the eye roll that came next. You were supposed to be safe at the manor and look what happened there. Despite wanting to argue you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You were so tired. And the simple turns in the car was making you queasy. Pregnancy. Joy to the world. *** After a torturous 3 hour car ride you finally arrived at a big wooden cabin in the woods. The place looked as though people had definitely been occupying it before. You wondered who. "Y/N, shower's upstairs if you still want one." Ivar began to walk up behind you. "Finally." You grumbled as you dropped a bag at your feet. Ivar waited for you in the room across the hall. He had the door wide open and was sitting on the bed when you emerged from the bathroom. "Y/N." He called your name and you went to him. The room was dark, the only reason you could see anything was because of the light from the hall leaking into the room. He lifted his shirt over his head and waved you closer to him. "Shut the door." He spoke in a light smooth voice. You kicked your foot back and listened to the door click shut. Ivar's hands reached out and grasped your hips. He pulled you closer to him and untied your towel. It dropped to your feet and left you completely exposed. Your hands held onto his shoulders as he leaned down and placed his lips to your belly. The sound of his lips on your skin ignited a fire burning in your thighs. Your breathing became heavy and your heart started to pound deep within your chest. "Can you promise me that no one hurt you?" Ivar asked as his hands began to run up to your ribs. "I promise." You whispered. "Good. Spread your legs for me." He replied quietly. You spread your legs and felt his fingers brush against your left thigh. You instantly became aroused. Heat and moisture gathered in your folds as you felt his fingers slowly drag further up into your entrance. "I know I haven't been that good to you. And I'm sorry for what Lagertha did. She shouldn't have scared you like she did." He curled his finger inside you and you let out a whimper. "I promised I would keep you and this baby safe. And I intend to keep it. I intend to make the whole world know just how precious you and this baby mean to me." He moved his other hand down to your stomach and fanned his hand against your womb. Your legs were trembling and your knees were becoming weak by the second. As he spoke those words he continued placing light kisses up to your chest. His hand kept pumping his finger inside you and you nearly came right then and there. Hearing the vow to protect you and his child made you riled up. You wanted to jump right on him and you wanted him inside you. He brought his mouth to your nipple and gently flicked it with his tongue. You opened your mouth and let out a loud moan. "I will gather everyone who ever favored my mother and I will take back what is rightfully mine." He pulled away from your chest and brought you right onto his lap. Your hands held onto the nape of his neck as he reached down and popped open the button of his jeans. The mere sound of his zipper opening made a warm spark flare inside your gut. "Yes." You moaned in agreement. "And then you will become my queen and we will rule Kattegate together." He spoke before he lifted you up by your waist and slowly allowed you to sink down onto his erection. You let out a little sigh in content and rolled your hips. He kept his hands on her hips and thrusted his hips up to meet yours. "We'll get married." He whispered as he grinded himself into you. All you could do was hum, whimper, and writhe above him. "You'll give me many children." He growled . "Fuck, Ivar." You moaned. He pressed his lips to yours only for a brief moment. His hands moved possessively up your back and hooked around your shoulders. He pressed your chest into his. "You and I will stay a family even if it kills me." He vowed just before he let out a quiet grunt and filled your walls with his come.

A/N: fair warning ahead this series is going to be ending soon. Just 2 more chapters left. But I might make a sequel of the series depending on how people react to the ending.  

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[thewingedwolf]

Like ok this show is doing this thing and its a thing a lot of shows do and its where they think a Strong Female Character is a woman (p much always a pretty white woman) who can fight and shows no empathy or compassion for others

And its so FUCKING AGGRAVATING bc the lagertha who existed in s1, who was kind to siggy bc it was the right thing to do, who sat and laid beside her daughter and wished she would stay a girl just a little longer so they could stay close like this, who lectured her son on how to be understanding of the people around him, who left the man she loved because she realized she deserved better than the way he treated her, is definitely NOT this heartless woman in the current season who talks down to her lover, who kills an unarmed woman while her back is turned, who condescends to the son of rhe woman she just murdered like he has no reason to want her dead, who never asks a girl who was once a slave what *she wants* from her life, who begs the ghost of the man who betrayed her to ~haunt her~ RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER LOVER.

Like. Lagertha of the first few seasons was compassionate and understanding and yes could fight but was also kind, was a good person. This woman is. Just awful. But I'm supposed to buy that she's ~strong~ bc she murders people and makes big speeches.

And thats not even going into the treatment of women who don't fight, of how Helga gets the shaft bc shes smaller and more delicate and doesn't fight and or yell or give huge speeches or shows any sort of inclination towards being a warrior or great leader, of how she is punished and ultimately killed for daring to want more out of her life than what her husband was willing to give.

Or how this idea totally leaves out women who are warriors but not feminine, the closest we got to this being like Thorunn maybe, who was awkward and stilted and aggressive to get what she wanted, who fought with bjorn to be treated the way she wanted to be and do what she wanted to do (altho pointing out that she is still p feminine is important here? But at the very least, less feminine than basically every other woman we've met so far except Astrid), and then she's horribly disfigured and doesn't bond immediately with her baby so she's left to just be depressed and leave the show to sander the countryside in her depression, and never finds out her BABY IS DEAD bc the people who promise to protect her shat the bed.

And thats just the tip of the iceburg!!!! You could write an essay on the weird consent issues and madonna/whore thing going on with Aslaug, on how Kwenthrith is punished for using her sexuality to protect herself and her son, on how Bjorn is a terrible dad and thats ok but Aslaug is a mediocre mom and this makes her the devil, on the just. Ridiculousness of everything abiut Astrid and Judith's stories, and that's not even MENTIONING the racialized misogyny Yidu faced in her very few scenes like.

Why. Why why why. A strong woman is not a woman who is pretty and feminine and can fight and shows no care for the feelings of the people around her and murders left and right and has no sympathy this. This isn't some revolutionary concept for a female character!!!!!! It's a p bland one actually. Gimme lagertha who cared, thorunn who was awkward, Astrid who is angry, Helga who is soft, Siggy who was powerful, I don't want whatever it is im getting now.

[directionlessbuthappy]

This scene was one of my major turning points in the show (and one of my favorites). I loved Lagertha throughout Vikings; she’s an amazing character in a rugged show like this. But this scene here was what gave me that little itch for Ivar to win. He asked for a fight, to avenge his mother, and challenged Lagertha for the right to honorably defeat her or die trying, because thats what vikings do (I know Ivar had mommy issues, still I respect him stepping up, so to speak). And she refused to fight him. And listen, I didn’t like Aslaug that much, but it was shitty the way she died, and it made me question Lagertha for the first time. There’s probably many theories/reasons why Lagertha refused to fight Ivar, but the reason I most believe in is she believed it would be an unfair fight, since Ivar was just a “poor crippled boy”. Idk if she would’ve won, she probably would’ve since Ivar hadn’t been to war yet since this was right after Ragnar’s death. Lagertha underestimated him, and could’ve prevented all the bloody aftermath if she’d just taken his challenge, since now it’s him or her anyway. 

Requested by @lol-haha-joke i loved this scene <3 hope you like em babes

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