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disasterofastory · 10 months ago

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The good guy (Hvitserk x Reader)

The good guy Hvitserk x Reader Warnings: Reader is a few years older. And let's pretend that the age difference between Bjorn and his brothers is much smaller. Oral.

Summary: mordern!Hvitserk wants to show you he is the one you need.

The fake leather sticks to the back of your thighs as you push yourself next to the wall in the booth Bjorn chose for the night. A small grimace contorts your face at the uncomfortable feeling. Reaching down, you grab the hem of your skirt to pull on the fabric. Jeans may have been a better choice, but it doesn't matter now.

The pub is loud and smells like cheap beer and spicy snacks. The noises of the others mix with the game playing on the TV in the corner. Your eyes land on the screen for a second, and when the ball doesn't reach the goal, your attention turns back to the pair in front of you.

Bjorn and his girlfriend sit next to each other. The blonde man's arm is around the girl's shoulder. She is busy with her beer while her eyes scan the crowded place. Her makeup softly glints under the lights as she turns her head to the side. "Hvitserk and Ubbe will be there in a few," Bjorn says after a few seconds. His bright eyes are still on the screen of his phone. "Torvi too." "Won't it be awkward?" You ask him, glancing at Gunnhild. "It's fine," the man replies. "It was two years ago."

Their relationship didn't end well between them, and when you heard about the new love blossoming between Torvi and Ubbe, you couldn't imagine the family holidays at the Ragnarsson household.

"If you say so," you hum, holding your glass to your lips and frown when you notice Bjorn's smirking at you with mischief in his eyes. "What?" You ask him. Gunnhild grins too. "I heard something the other day," Bjorn muses. "And?" You ask. "A conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk," Bjorn adds. "You know what?" You groan at his teasing. "I don't care. Don't tell me!" "Okay," he continues grinning. All of you know you won't keep long from questioning the burly man to spill the tea. There must be a good reason why Bjorn wants to tell you something about his two younger brothers. "Oh, come on!" You groan again. Your palm lands on the wooden table with a smack. "Tell me!" "Hvitserk likes you." Gunnhild is the one who has mercy on you. Excitement glints in her eyes as she waits for your reaction. "I mean... we are friends," you tell her, shrugging. You know all of Bjorn's brothers. Ubbe and Hvitserk are your friends, and Sigurd and Ivar don't hate your presence either. "You don't understand," Bjorn shakes his head. "He likes-likes you." You freeze, staring at them. "No," you reply, and your friends laugh. "Yes," Bjorn argues. "I heard them talking about you a few days ago. He is quite smitten with you." "And they are here," Gunnhild adds, keeping her eyes on the entrance of the pub.

You feel your stomach dropping while you watch the newcomers approaching your table. Half of your mind still tries to process Bjorn's words. Can it be true? You always thought about the brothers as Bjorn's younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Hey, guys!" Hvitserk's cheerful voice breaks the line of your thoughts. Your eyes wander up at the young man who is already watching you. Heat creeps up on your face at his attention on you, and you force your gaze to move onto the couple next to him. And it doesn't get better. Ubbe and Torvi watch you with a strange glint in their eyes. Or maybe you are just imagining it. "I need a drink," you gasp. "Can I get you anything?" "I will go with you," Bjorn says, standing up to follow you to the bar. "Sit down, guys," he adds. "We will be back in a minute."

"You think too hard," Bjorn says, standing next to you while you wait for your orders. "I'm not," you murmur, looking down at the counter. "I'm fine." "What's wrong?" He asks, leaning closer. "I mean, I'm the most handsome brother, but Hvitserk is a good guy too." "How can you tell that?" You ask, frowning. Eyes still on the wooden surface. "He is your little brother." "And I know him," Bjorn reasons. "You always choose the wrong guys," he continues, and you grimace. He is right. "Hvitserk would be good." "He is younger than me." The man scoffs. "So? Look, Hvitserk is like a puppy. And I mean it in a good way. And the younger lads always try to prove themself harder..." "Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "You really proved yourself back then to a lot of women." "Yeah," he nods, not trying to deny his past. "But it was me. Hvitserk is different." A heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you can't help but feel pathetic. You are already deep in a relationship that doesn't even exist. Hvitserk said nothing about his feelings for you. Maybe it isn't even true. Maybe Bjorn heard it wrong, and you stress yourself for nothing.

You are so stupid.

When you get back to the table, Ubbe and Torvi are already sitting at the end of the table on two chairs while Hvitserk stands next to the booth to give you enough space to climb back to your seat. "Thanks," you murmur and trying not to jump when his hand lands on the small of your back as you walk past by him.

You are so deep in your panicked thoughts you don't even notice Hvitserk's eyes on you. And it's really surprising since it seems like the young man can't tear his attention away from you. The skirt highlights the curve of your hips and is short enough to give enough space for his wandering gaze on your bare thighs. His palm tingles with the need to put his hand on you. He is sure you are soft and warm and everything he wants.

Ubbe's snickering shakes him up from his staring. He doesn't even feel bad about it. He feels good and content when he looks at you. Hvitserk doesn't even know when and how his feelings turned about you. You were always the girl who came over to his older brother, and before he knew it, he wanted you to spend time with him too. And wanted much more too.

"And how's the game?" Ubbe asks, glancing up at the TV. None of you care about it. "They run," Gunnhild replies. "A lot." Hvitserk can't help but smile at your laugh. His fingers curl around his beer to keep himself from touching you.

The night goes amazingly. You laugh and drink a lot but can't seem to forget the closeness of Hvitserk next to you. He radiates warmth and happiness. The cologne he uses covers your senses. His thigh brushes against yours from time to time.

"Halfdan?" Bjorn's voice brings you back to reality. When you look at him, he is already watching you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. Y/N could talk about him." "You know him?" Torvi asks, surprised. You shrug. "We dated for a little while." Hvitserk frowns at your words, but you don't notice it. His lips press into a thin line. "How was it?" You shrug again. "We didn't match." You went on a few dates with Halfdan, and while you enjoyed your time together, you found out soon enough that Halfdan was ready for a lot of things but not for a serious relationship. "Maybe you should date his brother," Ubbe suggests, laughing. "He was already married at least three times." "Yeah," you hum. "My dream is to be his fourth wife." "Isn't he old for you a bit?" Hvitserk asks, and your company needs all its strength not to laugh at the blonde man's jealous words. Heat rises up in your veins as you turn your head and look at him. A playful grin pulls on your lips. "Do you have something against older men?" Hvitserk doesn't care about older men or the brothers if they keep their distance from you. "Maybe we should go," Ubbe suddenly says, already standing up from his seat before his brother can say something to embarrass himself. "Ubbe is right," Bjorn nods. "It's late." You and Hvitserk need a few seconds to tear your gazes away from each other. "Hvitserk, maybe you should walk Y/N home," Torvi says, linking her arm over his boyfriend's. "It's dark outside." "Oh, no," you start. "You don't have to." "I do," he replies. "A walk would be nice." "I bet," Bjorn murmurs with a smirk. "I will call you tomorrow," he adds louder, watching you until you nod.

After saying goodbye to the others, you stay alone with Hvitserk. He walks by your side in silence for a few seconds. "So that's why you didn't come over for the few last weeks?" He asks after a while, keeping his gaze on the ground the whole time. His hands are in his coat pockets. "What do you mean?" You ask back. "Halfdan," he explains. "Oh," you hm. "No. I had a lot of things to do, and now that Bjorn moved out, I didn't really have the reason to go over." "Ivar misses you," he says, and you laugh. "I'm sure." "No, seriously," he clears his throat. "You can still hang out with us, right?" "I mean... yeah, I guess." You can feel your pulse in your throat as you wait for where this conversation will lead. "Or you could hang out just with me," he adds. "Ivar is boring anyway." You laugh again just to earn yourself more time to think about your next words. "I'm sure you have better things to do than spending your time with me," you tell him at the end. Your voice is quiet and unsure. You don't know what you should do. "Not really," he says. You can see his arm moving from the corner of your eyes. "I like being with you." Your heart jumps up to your throat next to your pulse when you feel his warm hand on you. His fingers are intertwined with yours. "Hvitserk," breathing out his name, you stop in front of the door of your flat. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip as you look down at your hands. "You are really beautiful tonight." You laugh. That damn Ragnarsson charm. "Hvitserk..." He steps closer. His free hand lands under your jaw to push your head up until your eyes meet. His thumb pulls out your lip from between your teeth. "What are you doing?" You ask him. You have to force the words out because of your barely working lungs. "I like you, Y/N," he says. No embarrassment or uncertainty shows on his face. "Hvitserk..." You sigh, trying to say something, but your brain doesn't really want to work either. He smirks. "I like it when you say my name." "You can't... It's not... You are..." He patiently waits for you to finish at least one sentence. The young man really likes the way you fluster in his presence. His thumb still caresses the soft line of your bottom lip, and his other hand slips to your waist to pull you closer. Your front is pressed against his. He can't help but glance down at your cleavage. "Are your roommate home?" "My eyes are up, Hvitserk," you tell him, smirking. "I know," he grins. "They are pretty too." "Be serious," you tell him even though you can't swipe the smile off your face. "I am," he replies, looking up into your eyes. "I like you, Y/N, ever since you came over four years ago, crying because your ex broke your heart." "Really? You needed my broken heart to notice me?" You tease. "Of course not," he says. "You were always pretty in my eyes. But that was the moment I realized I would be much better for you." "Hvitserk..." "What? Don't you like me? Or because of Bjorn? I don't think he would have anything against us... I mean, did you see his love life?" "No," you reply, shaking your head. "He wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "Then what?" He asks, pressing you closer to himself. "My age? It's just a few years, Y/N. It's nothing." "Hvitserk, I know you," you reason. "You are almost as bad as Halfdan. And don't tell me it's not true. I saw the different girls you brought home almost every week." "But they weren't you," he says. "They weren't important. But you are." "Hvitserk, I really want someone for the long run..." you tell him honestly. "I want a good relationship that can grow into more in the future. I don't play games anymore." "And I can be that guy," he says. "Let me prove it, Y/N." His words fan over your lips. "Let me in." When you say nothing, he leans even closer and kisses you for the first time. His lips are soft and taste like cheap beer.

And something snaps inside of you.

Your arms curl around his neck as you let him deepen the kiss. The gentle nibbles become bites on your bottom lip until he coaxes your mouth open for free access to your tongue. His kiss is searing and takes your breath away at once. Your lungs burn when he breaks away.

His words vibrate on your swollen lips when he speaks. His forehead is against yours. "Open the door, Y/N." "Hm?" You hum, still dizzy. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand slips to your ass to grab a handful of your flesh. A grunt echoes in his chest at the feeling. "The door, Y/N. Open it." "Oh," you gasp. "Right."

He watches you fiddling with your keys with amusement. You are flustered and breathless. The taste of your lips still tingles on his own. His heated gaze rakes over your body from behind. The skirt hugs your bottom perfectly. His hand moves on its own accord to touch you again, but he decides against it at the last moment. No, he won't act like a dog in heat.

At least not in front of your neighbors.

Hvitserk barely slides inside your house before pushing the door close with his leg. His hands find your waist again, and when you turn to face him, he kisses you again. Your back falls against the wall, and your fingers curl into his blonde hair at the nape of his neck. His presence covers your every sense. Your nostrils are filled with his smell, your fingertips are warm on his skin, and your lips burn with his taste.

"Go to the couch," he hums against your lips before kissing you again. His tongue ghosts over the line of your bottom lip.

You need every strength in your body to do as he says.

"Sit down." "You are really commanding," you state, still following his words. "I want to taste you before you change your mind," he says. In contrast to his words, his smile is soft and almost innocent. "You... what?" You gasp, shocked. His smile turns into something much more wicked as he falls to his knees before you. Even the view is enough to make your thighs shake and your inside tremble. "Open those legs for me, Y/N," he grins. His long fingers fiddle with the straps of your high heels, moving up to your calves, and when he reaches the curve of your knees, he rises both of your legs after another to kiss them. "Hvitserk!" You gasp, slapping down on the couch under you as you grab the edge when he pulls your legs apart. "You don't have to." "Oh, Y/N," he hums. "But I want to so much." "Oh!"

The breath you keep inside your lungs burns you. The skirt runs up on your thighs as your legs open under Hvitserk's heavy gaze. His fingers dig into your thighs. He plays and gropes the flesh all the way to your bottom. Another gasp escapes your lips when the man grabs you again to tug you to the edge of your seat. The skirt you wear hides nothing anymore. "It's pretty," he grins, playing with the lace of your panties. "Interesting, I always imagined you as a black lingerie woman." "I have black ones, too," you breathe out quietly. He smirks. "Maybe next time." His thumb glides over your pussy through the thin fabric. He can feel your folds and the wetness that coats your most sensitive parts. Your thighs jerk when his touch reaches your clit. He teases the hard bud until your panties are soaked. "You are so wet already," he says with satisfaction dripping from his words. It really makes him happy. It means to him that he is not the only one who feels attraction. You are not here in front of him out of pity or worry that you would hurt his feelings and damage your friendship with his oldest brother. You really feel something. Something that can grow into more if he doesn't fucks it up. "Let me..." he hums, and without waiting for your answer, he pulls down your panties with a swift motion. Soon, the fabric lies on the ground, forgotten. The cold air on your pussy makes your whole body shiver with anticipation. "You have no idea how many times I imagined you just like this," he says, staring at your center intently. "Open and wet for me." His finger glides over your folds, smearing your wetness in the process. "Hvitserk," you breathe out his name, urging him to stop his teasing already. Your whole body is tense with waiting and burning desire. "I'm here," he smirks, leaning closer. His words fan over your aching pussy. Your thighs want to close on their own accord, but the blonde man's shoulders stop them. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh. He can't get enough of the softness of your skin. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, but he forces himself to focus on something else. And it's not a difficult thing to do when you are in front of him with spread legs and soaked cunt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips when he closes the space between you. His tongue flattens on your pussy, taking a teasing lick of your wetness. Your juices spread across his tastebuds. His eye fall shut at the feeling.

Hvitserk devours you to his heart's content while you squirm and whine under him. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before sinking his finger into your pussy and sucking at you at the same time. Your back arches, and your mouth falls open into an airy moan. You can feel the throbbing of your heart between your legs. It jumps and speeds up at every swirl and push Hvitserk does with his tongue and fingers. He spreads his two fingers inside you, stretching your walls and finding every sweet spot that makes you cry for more. To cry for him. "Hivtserk," you moan. "I-I-" "Cum," he groans into your pussy. His eyes bore into yours. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let me drink from you." Your head falls back at the whirlwind that runs through your body. Your muscles are taut, almost painfully so. You can't even breathe as the climax washes over you with full force. Your fingers find their way into his curls. You tug on the blonde strands, and Hvitserk moans. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. He wants you to find pleasure in him, not just in the bed but everywhere else too. After years of silently watching you and craving your body with equal need with your laugh and pretty smile, he is ready for everything. He is ready to accept everything you want to give him.

When you win back your consciousness, Hvitserk is still between your legs, resting his head on your thigh with a cheeky grin on his lips. His lips glint with your wetness. "Hey." Heat creeps up on your face. "Hi." "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow," he suddenly says, standing up from his kneeling position. A quick kiss on your lips reminds you of what happened a few minutes ago. "What?" You gasp. "Hvitserk... what?" You watch his receding form as he makes his way to the entrance door of your home. "I thought..." You point at your room with your thumb. The confusion is clear on your face. When he looks back from the door, he can't help but stop for a second. You are so goddamn beautiful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes still shine with the remains of your climax, and your lips are swollen and red from his kisses. He really needs his every self-control not to turn back and take you to your room for more. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Date first. Tomorrow. At seven." "But..." "It was just a taste, Y/N, because I couldn't help myself." And with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone with shaking legs and a dizzy mind.

Oh, gods!

#hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk smut #Hvitserk x you #modern hvitserk #vikings smut #vikings imagine #vikings x reader

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bjornswoman · 11 months ago

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Foe's regret I

Author's note: Hello there! Here comes this fic you chose to come. At this part I have to say that one more part has left to come from this series. Thank you for supporting me. I wasn't planning on delivering this today. I had it in store for Christmas as a gift to you all, but I couldn't keep myself from posting it, so here it is. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, violence, slight romance.

Summary: Your life is about to change again, probably this time things will get better... or not.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of murder (strangulation), strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish | Enemy's cruelty | Rival's touch |

Days and nights had past but everything felt the safe inside your prison. Only this time you weren't only miserable and hopeless, but also betrayed and filthy after that disastrous of a night.

You wanted to run away from Kattegat – from Ubbe. But you knew that this wasn't even an option – not after what had happened the previous time. You wouldn't even dare to lay a foot outside the Hall without someone on your tail.

However, that wasn't the only reason behind this. Your son had a huge impact on your decision. Even if you ever found the opportunity to leave this place for good, Ragnar would hate you for taking him away from his father. A father who was Ubbe Ragnarsson – a magnificent warrior, descendant of Odin himself. The child was his first-born – his heir – you had no right to take him away from him.

On the other hand, you couldn't leave on your own. You couldn't stay away from your son – your heart wouldn't bear not to see him for a day let alone a whole life. The only meaningful thing you had in this life was your son – without him you were dead.

The thundering sound of a goblet falling startled you and forced you out of your thoughts into the atrocious reality. Around you men and women were laughing and drinking, fighting and eating, talking and dancing. It was another feast that you had to pretend to be the perfect wife. False smiles and identical words and promises were all you could see behind the masks of all those pretenders that were surrounding the Hall.

"You don't seem to enjoy yourself." Drunken, slightly hoarse voice spoke from the seat next to yours. It was a familiar one though it didn't belong to your husband – it belonged to his younger brother.

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Hvitserk." You answered and you glanced at the drunk man. Then your eyes went back at the crowd.

You weren't in mood of starting any conversation – even with Hvitserk. You wanted to stay on your seat drinking ale from your goblet until the night was off – and you prayed for it to end soon enough because you couldn't stand seeing her swinging around the Hall giggling with the guests full of your husband's child. And your husband's eyes were only on her, the love of his life – now you knew damn well that he was lying he hated you because he couldn't be with her and you were hating him more than before. More than ever.

"Well, I won't push you to talk if you don't want to, but you should know that if you ever need to spill your guts and let of steam, I'll be here." Those were the realest words you had ever heard coming from someone else – from someone who was too drunk to reconsider the words coming out of his mouth. And yet it didn't seem this way, it seemed like Hvitserk meant each one of them.

You turned your gaze on him properly this time. Maybe he was right you should speak to someone – you should take this weigh off your shoulders, but you knew that Hvitserk couldn't be the one. He was Ubbe's brother and in love with Margrethe. Torvi couldn't be that person either, she was his brother's wife – practically his family.

That resulted to you having no one for once more. You were utterly alone, but you were used to it by now.

"You know that we can't really talk, don't you?" You asked him in low tone of voice and he turned his gaze on you. Green eyes gazing right inside your shuttered soul.

Hvitserk shook his head and chuckled. You looked at him frowning in curiosity.

"Ahh, yes. I almost forgot for a moment that you are more like a bird imprisoned in a golden cage than my brother's wife." You almost smiled at the comparison he managed to make.

"I was never the second as for the first I start to think that the only thing missing is the wings." You tried to play along, but the melancholy didn't let you be as playful as Hvitserk was when he pointed out the similarity between you and a caged bird.

Hvitserk left the goblet on the table and sat properly on his seat, his eyes were only on your figure along with his attention. It was like he was totally sober for a moment.

"You mean he broke your wings the only time you dared to walk out of that cage?"

"Something like that." You smiled sadly, recalling which moment he was talking about.

"And yet you love him. Still."

You frowned. You opened your mouth to protest – to accuse him of lying, to give him one by one all the atrocious reasons that his remark couldn't be true. You almost wanted to rip the collar of your dress and show him the scars of his brother's large hands on your neck of all the time he almost strangled you. But most of all you wanted to yell at him because he dared to say such an awful and offensive thing.

"You don't need to persuade me of the opposite." He continued and grabbed his own goblet taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't know the reason behind all this horrible situation you have to live in – well, in fact, I know it – but I wish things were different between you and him. You are a good woman – you deserve a lot of things and surely this torment isn't one of them. He is a good man as well, but he is stubborn and I can say that he loves you back."

You didn't want to hear anymore. You didn't know which your reaction should be. Not because you were shocked or believed any of his words. You knew that Ubbe didn't love you – he hated you. He had even told you that he loved her that night.

Before Hvitserk could even start again talking about Ubbe's hypothetical love about you, you dumped your own goblet on the table in front of you and left your seat.

"Don't say anything else. Ubbe himself told me that he loves her." You said quickly and stormed in your chamber before Hvitserk could answer you.

You didn't need to hear anything else about Ubbe or Margrethe. In fact, you didn't even want to see them for the rest of the evening. You needed a night away from all this despair – you deserved it after everything you had been through lately.

However, your silence didn't last long because Ubbe stormed in the room more frustrated than you did a few minutes ago.

"What do you want?" You asked him angrily because of his sudden appearance in there.

"Are you out of your mind?" He yelled and kicked the table flipping it over, throwing all the decorations on the floor.

"No, you are out of your mind!" You were yelling too now. You couldn't believe at the audacity of that person. All he did was coming in and yelling at you over and over and over again. It was all a circle happening again and again the same thing and you were tired of re-living the same scene every day.

"I am not the one who caused a whole scene in front of so many people and left! What do you think you are doing?"

"Are you serious? I caused a scene? I was talking with Hvitserk! Just a civilised talking! Something you can't do apparently because all you do is yelling!" You yelled back. All you asked was for a simple night. A silent one which meant away from him and his madness. He was mad – there wasn't any other excuse behind all of his behaviour. However, you couldn't find a proper reason he was in such a state. You hadn't caused any scene in there.

"Don't bring this on me, woman!" He was very angry – you had seen him this way multiple times before and you knew what was to follow. His hands were running through his braids uncontrollably and you couldn't understand the reason he was so mad. "You are the one who humiliated me and my family!" His finger pointed out on you and you scoffed – you couldn't help it – and it enraged him more.

Within a couple of seconds one of his hands was on your throat pressing it until you had no breath in your lugs. Nothing new – just some bruises and marks that you had to hide under your clothing. Ubbe pushed you back on the wall – your back hit so hard that all the inches of your body were shaken.

"You humiliate my name and you have to get punished for it!" He growled and you looked at him as angrily as he eyed you. You weren't going to lose this time – not again. And most importantly you couldn't let him know that you were afraid. He couldn't know.

"What are you going to do that you haven't done yet? What, huh?" You challenged him, looking him in the eyes. You wouldn't back down.

A sardonic smirk formed on his face when he heard your words and his face came closer to yours. You weren't used to be this close to him. Your faces were mere inches apart and without your approval your eyes stared on his masculine features.

"I am going to take Ragnar away from you. You are going to see him again when you will act properly." His tone was normal again, but his nerves weren't. Your eyes widened and you tried to do something you hated yourself for the same moment you did it. You raised your hand and tried to hit him – to slap him on the cheek – but his hand stopped you.

After that, both of his hands were gripping you firmly and this time maybe he would make his dream coming true – he was going to strangle you to death and as he said once; nobody would suspect him.

Your eyes widened again, but this time not because of the fact that he was going to kill you this time, but because you were going to hit him. You had never done that before – never. You had thought about it plenty of times, but never did it.

You closed your eyes waiting for your death and tears rolled from your eyes – tears because you tried to hit him. He had done horrible things, but you – you weren't this beast. Images of your son were flashing before your eyes at you last moments.

But you didn't die at the end of day, because the door opened and Hvitserk along with Sigurd and Bjorn forced Ubbe away from you. They tried to help you when Ubbe was forced away from you, but you stopped them you fell on the floor coughing, trying to breathe normally again.

Bjorn and Sigurd were talking to him as Hvitserk was standing next to you trying to make sure whether you were fine or not.

"He wasn't.... going to kill me." You managed to say with clear difficulty in breathing. All pairs of eyes were following you while you were struggling to stand up.

"It didn't seem this way to me." Bjorn pointed out and you shook your head trying to convince him the thing around.

"I wouldn't kill her." Ubbe spoke finally, his burning blue eyes were only on you as your own eyes were on him. "Now leave us for a moment. We will be alright." He told them and they looked at disbelief before they walked to the door.

"We will be right outside, don't even think about it." Hvitserk warned his brother before all of them were out of the door and stayed just the two of you in the room.

Ubbe didn't try to come close to you, he stayed at his former position and neither of you talked. The atmosphere was suffocating inside the room.

"You were very lucky this time, but next time you will raise your hand on me you won't be that lucky." He warned you in much calmer tone of voice.

It was a threat – another threat.

You hated yourself for trying to hit him. He had never done it, but had done other equally awful things. You wanted to tell how sorry you felt and ask for forgiveness and you would if it was for another person. You would never leave your guard down for him again. You knew better than falling for his tricks again.

"We will see about that." You couldn't keep your mouth from saying it.

"Don't tempt me to finish what I started." Ubbe growled before he was out of the door.

"I'm sorry." You muttered when he was out of the chamber and touched your hurting neck. Tears started streaming from your eyes at the memory of you raising your hand on Ubbe.

After some hours, you un-braided your hair and put on your night-gown ready to lay on your bed, after your son was asleep. You blew out the candles and laid on your bed closing your eyes. But you didn't get to sleep, because the wooden door opened and closed. You kept your eyes shut, but your hand moved under your pillow and wrapped around your dagger's handle.

When you felt the mattress next to you moving, you turned around and pointed the dagger at the man's neck. You could recognise him under the midnight light coming from your window. You knew this person well – fortunately.

"I must confess that I wasn't expecting this." He whispered, but you didn't take the dagger away from his neck. For the first time ever, Ubbe Ragnarsson was under your mercy. That meant that you could do to him anything you liked. This was getting entertaining.

"Why are you here anyway? You should be with your wife." You reminded both of you and moved the dagger closer to the flesh of his throat.

"In case you forgot you are my wife."

"I meant your other wife."

Ubbe didn't seem to want to answer your question probably he – himself – didn't know the reason he was on your bed.

"You know that I could take this little knife of yours easily." He said and touched the tip of your blade. You smirked hoping that he couldn't see it in the dark.

"Yes, but you haven't taken it yet." You heard him chuckling and you smiled.

"No, I haven't." His voice was coming from somewhere closer than you remembered. The dagger was still pressed on his neck, but it seemed as he didn't care at all about its existence – he wasn't afraid of you and that was annoying you even more than his arrogancy.

"I could kill you and nobody could prove it was me." You recollected his own words and used them to upset it, but it had quite different effect than the one you wanted.

As an answer his hand was placed on top of yours – on top of the hand which was holding the dagger on his throat. He guided the blade closer to his flesh and you watched him thrilled as he was pressing his own skin with the sharp knife.

"Do it. Kill me. Nobody deserves to kill me more than you do. If I am to die soon, I'd prefer to be you the one holding the blade soaking in my blood. So, don't hesitate, do it – slice my neck." The smell of blood reached your nostrils and you knew that it came out of him. He had been cut by the blade, but it hadn't been deep enough to be fatal.

You pulled the knife away from Ubbe and dropped it on the stony floor. Your hands were working hard in the darkness trying to reach for his wound. You knew that he was bleeding when your hands me the something liquid streaming – his blood.

You hoped desperately that he couldn't see your face. He couldn't see how upset and worried you were for him. You didn't want him to suppose that you cared – you didn't care. You didn't care at all.

And yet you couldn't stop yourself from lighting the candles again and searching for a cloth to treat him. When you found what you were looking for, you went back to bed. You sat next to his lying form and placed the cloth in the bowl of water. Then, you placed the wet cloth on his wound and he didn't react – he didn't even flinch.

His blue eyes were focused on you trying to stop the blood streaming.

"I thought you would want to get rid of me by now." Ubbe finally spoke and you dared to glance at him for a passing moment. You thought to yourself. You thought that it would be better if he was dead. However, you couldn't picture his death. You were afraid that if you even tried, it would happen. It should have been what all you were waiting for, but it wasn't.

"I have told you, Ubbe, I've never wanted you dead." Your eyes were back on the cut on his throat. It wasn't a fatal wound and it wasn't big enough, but still you couldn't let him bleeding. Not even for some minutes. "Not even after everything that we've been through." You confessed in a soft tone of voice. In such way that you didn't want him to know about that last part. But, now, he knew.

"And yet I would kill you if I had the chance." This was a confess and it made you smile. It wasn't like you weren't afraid that he wasn't going to do it, you were sure that earlier he would have killed you if his brothers hadn't stormed in the room.

Ubbe could kill you easily, but this didn't mean that you could do this to him as well. He didn't care whether your son would grow up having a mother or not, as you did. But this didn't make you change your mind when it should have had. If you were to walk away one day, you would do this and he would be alive. Although, if that ever happened, he wouldn't let you go far enough – he would find you anywhere.

"You have the chance now." You reminded him that you were alone and your gaze met his under the slight light of the candles. You left the cloth in the bowl and placed it on the table close to your bed.

"I can't kill you right now." Ubbe said and stood up from your bed to meet you.

"Why not?"

You hated the way your eyes were magnetised on his imposing figure. It reminded you how much more powerless you were comparing to him. You wanted to force your eyes away, but you couldn't bring yourself to.

Ubbe shook his head trying to fight back a smirk which was forming on his face.

"It feels like you are provoking me into killing you sometimes. You are so annoying and careless and stubborn and I can't keep myself."

His footsteps became heavier when he almost reached you. You didn't make any attempt to get away from him – you stayed on your former position, staring at him.

"From killing me?"

A low chuckle – one so dark that got goosebumps – came out of his mouth and he took a step closer to you. Again, you didn't try to escape which seemed a terrible idea.

You knew that you were asking too many questions that could get you in danger. This man was so unpredictable that you weren't sure when he would snap out of nowhere and try to strangle you again – or this time he wouldn't use his hands.

"Among other things." These words came out darker than it probably meant.

It wasn't long before he was in front of you and his hands were reaching for your skin. They rested on your neck, but not like previously. He wasn't wrapping his hands firmly around you – he was touching you. Just touching. Nothing more – only pure touching. And yet, only pure it wasn't. Nothing was pure between Ubbe and yourself.

His touch was intoxicating and you felt like you needed more of it. You needed this touch in every inch of your body. It was forbidden – Ubbe was forbidden. And that was the exact reason you had to stop this. Because if you didn't, it would ruin you again and this time it would be worse than any other.

You took some steps back. He didn't try to reach you again. Ubbe knew himself that this was a big mistake and it shouldn't happen again.

"Margrethe probably needs you." You told him bitterly. You couldn't even pronounce her name without feeling this weird feeling which had the exact taste with poison. "She's close to give birth to your child. You should be there for them both."

Ubbe knew that you were speaking the truth – he should have been with his wife – and yet he was in your chambers standing opposite you, feeling attracted to this room – feeling attracted to you.

"You didn't need me though."

It surprised you to hear him saying that. However, it was another truth that couldn't go by unnoticed or stay hidden between you two. You didn't lie to each other because you didn't care about the opinion the other person would form. At least that was what it was supposed to be like.

Indeed almost each month of your pregnancy you were alone, but you liked it. You didn't want Ubbe around – you hated the idea that he would eventually be around when this child would be born.

"But she does." You managed to mutter. You were trying to bring back those feelings. Those you had for him during your pregnancy – when he had been on another raiding and you hadn't seen him for plenty of months.

When you could actually hate him because you didn't have to see him every single day.

"Once you had told me that your feelings for me weren't hateful when I was away." Ubbe's voice held a different tone. One you confessed coming out of his mouth few times.

Yes, you could recall that conversation. It was the one he told you that he was thinking about you at the battlefield, but it was too late to believe in his words, because you had already found out about the slave girl and her child. It was one of the worst days of your life – how somebody could forget the day their life took the downfall.

Although, that conversation was the last thing you wanted to remember after all this threats and the tears you shed. And yet it was still stuck in your mind like it was yesterday.

"I was trying to give in to the feelings I felt for you. The way I had you in my mind when I was at the battlefield. Don't ask me how those feelings were formed — I have no idea. I was thinking of you, knowing that you were praying for me not to return. Those feelings couldn't be replaced by any fight we had. At the end of the day, all that stayed in my mind was one of your rare smiles and the way you care for our son."

Ubbe had said.

"I have never prayed for you to die on the battlefield. I did quite the opposite in fact and it felt strange in my heart. I hated — I told my self to hate you — I was telling myself all the things I hated in you so I could hate you. I felt strange for you — my heart was beating in a strange way as much as I tried to avoid it, it exists, still."

That was your reply.

Your eyes were fixed on his gaze. Ubbe wasn't paying attention in anything else in the room but you. It felt like nothing else existed except the two of you. If it was under different circumstances, you would feel special and even loved – only if it was even possible to acknowledge how it felt to be loved by someone.

His tone was a soft and kind of regretful one. But it had never lasted long. This time time it wasn't due to him mood swings but due to his brother storming in the room, out of breath. Hvitserk cut him off when it was obvious that he was about to say something – or more accurately – confess something.

When you saw the man standing next to the door, you let a long breath – one you weren't aware that you were holding all this time – to leave.

"Margrethe is in labour!" Hvitserk exclaimed and everything changed inside you. It felt like the reality was coming back and your delightful dream was over. The object of your misery was back there – visible –standing in your way.

Your husband's eyes met yours. Regret – they yelled. But you couldn't understand which was the thing he had regretted for.

For cheating?

For impregnating her?

For marrying her?

For treating you like garbage?

For forcing you to stay in his side?

For the misery he put you into?

Too many reasons and they weren't all of them. There must have been something you couldn't recall. And yet, you didn't care. You couldn't even feel pity for your wasted life anymore. In fact, you couldn't anything – you were empty.

"She's asking for you brother." Hvitserk spoke again this time softer. His eyes were moving from Ubbe to you and the opposite, because no one of you had said a word.

"Yes." Was the only thing Ubbe managed to say and dragged his brother outside of the room. "You should be there too. Make yourself proper and come." Your husband was back. That was the Ubbe you knew. Your tyrant.

You had no tears left to shed. You were just empty as you were putting on your dress.

You were empty when you walked through her chambers and had to confess her labour.

You were empty even when the child was out. Boy – the midwife had announced happily. And she brought it in your hands and you weren't empty anymore. He was crying his guts out – like your own. His brown eyes were big and pure and you lost yourself inside them so mush that you almost didn't noticed. Although when you actually show them, they didn't mean anything – a child was brought in the world and it was the biggest blessing Frigg could give to a woman.

"Give him to me!" Margrethe's voice was the one who heard through the silent room, but you didn't move to place her son on her lap.

"The prince should hold him, my lady." The midwife reasoned her, but she didn't stop yelling for her son.

Even if she wanted, she couldn't hide away the child from Ubbe. Sooner or later, he would see him. You couldn't interfere or even felt pity. Nobody pitied you when you cried. Nobody cared for you feelings.

You placed the boy on her lap. Without sparing a look at her – the young man was all you cared about. Which could possibly be his fate. Why did it have to be this difficult for a baby just born. Why should a child carry its parent's burdens.

Your footsteps were vast as you were exiting that suffocating room.

"Son." You muttered when you met the curious eyes of the people who were supposed to be your family. Your eyes dared to wander only on Ubbe's form. You were supposed to bring him his son on your hands and it would probably have happened this way is things had been different.

Ubbe frowned when he spotted your unclear expression. Even you weren't empty enough to be idle after this. You almost felt sympathy for him, forgetting about all the horrible things you had been through because of his cruelty.

If you were as cruel as Ubbe was on you, you would even say that all this was a payback for all his doing. But you didn't feel like it, not when in the middle of this situation stood a new-born boy. One that would probably be the object to everyone's ire.

Ubbe didn't wait for a second word or asked anything else, he just burst into the room without warning. You didn't dare to move or speak another word. After all, it wasn't about you anymore.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka, @gothicwidowsworld, @savagemickey03, @brianna-merlim, @shitsandgiggles1

#vikings ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe fanfiction #vikings au #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fic

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biggerbetterbat · 8 months ago

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THE SECOND SON | masterlist

Ubbe Ragnarson x oc!reader

Summary: Ubbe, a fierce warrior with a heart of gold, and Valdis, a spirited woman with dreams of her own, find themselves thrust into an arranged marriage - dream of past that their fathers had.

General warnings: mentions of cheating, pregnancy, murder, fighting, violence, jealousy, strong language, smut, unprotected sex, death - overall typical viking’s things

In this story Ubbe was never married/in any relationship with Torvi (I do believe it’s a warning)

“They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall”

memory of him

one.

two.

three.

#ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe imagine #vikings ubbe #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe fanfiction

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 2 years ago

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Vikings + curls and afros

Summary: how would the Vikings react to seeing their friend/partner/... with an afro/big curls for the first time after taking their braids ouut

A/N: I’m so honored that you feel comfy with requesting this from me anon <3

Had to do some research, and I hope I got everything right :) if there’s something off, please correct me in the comments/reblogs

Tagged: @bragisrunes, @demon-of-the-ancient-world, @alicedopey

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Ragnar

He kinda jumps when he turns around and sees you for the first time

(probably bc he’s high and didn’t realize what was occurring)

He’s one of those annoying people who just touch your hair without permission

So many questions, so unintentionally disrespectful

Lagertha

So in awe of your curls

She loves her hair and loves braiding it

But she’s blonde and white so volume does not exist to her

Will ask you if she can braid it the next time you want it braided

Greatest viking x afro hairstyles

Bjorn

He cannot comprehend

How does your hair just… do that?

It looks so normal when it’s braided and then it’s just suddenly so big and pretty

In absolute awe

He can appreciate art when he sees it

Ubbe

Also very fascinated

Asks you to explain different hairtypes to him

Makes a joke about wanting kids with your type of hair

Highkey thinks you look stunning with your curls

Asks you to never braid your hair again

Hvitserk

Doesn’t notice at first

He’s too busy eating something, but then he sees your hair out of the corner of his eye

And boom, he can’t stop staring

Thinks curls are super cool

Asks if there’s any way he can get them

Don’t tell him abt perms. He tries to do it to himself

Sigurd

I totally agree that Sigurd would be very jealous

Listens to your explanation, is still unsatisfied and wants volume

Tries to tease his hair endlessly

He gets a little more volume, but it’s raining that day

Steps outside for two seconds, ends up looking like a wet poodle

Ivar

Also slightly obsessed with your hair

He offers to get you any products you might need after he learns that curly hair needs a different kind of care

he’s someone who hoards knowledge like a dragon gold, so you can teach him just about everything about afros, curls and their history

gets angry on your behalf when people behave disrespectfully

Torvi

another queen of braids who will beg you to let her do your next hairdo

wants to learn about different hair textures and how curls work

she’s interested in how you manage an afro in day-to-day life – I think especially in viking life afros might be a little difficult to manage

she realizes that the climate is very damaging to your hair and searches through her own stock of hair care to help you

very sweet

#torvi #ivar #sigurd #ubbe #hvitserk #bjorn #lagertha #ragnar #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #ubbe x reader #torvi x reader #vikings imagine #hvitserk x reader #bjorn x reader #lagertha x reader

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 3 years ago

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Viking Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Smut 💦 Angst 😨 Fluff ❤ Violence 🔪 Gore/Medical 🤢 Triggering material 🚩

Any smut fics will be marked per Tumblr's community labels, you will need them turned to show to see them.

Ivar the Boneless

You and Ivar spend the night under the stars

Far Away Stars 💦❤ Part 2 💦❤

****

You're a librarian who stumbles upon a book that gives you a window into the past, but when a door is opened you can't control what comes through it.

This Life and the Next ❤❤

****

Rest Your Weary Hands

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

Masterlist

****

NSFW Alphabet Viking Ivar 💦💦❤

****

Ivar the Boneless SFW Alphabet Prompt Masterlist

Mini fic of the letters of the SWF alphabet.

Ubbe Ragnarsson

NSFW Alphabet 💦💦❤❤

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

A Taste of Heaven Masterlist

Ragnar Lothbrok

Ragnar sees you from far away on a raid. It's love at first sight, and now he has to have you.

Little doe 💦❤

#vikings #ivar #bjorn imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #hvitserk #torvi #lagertha #ragnar lothbrok #Vikings imagine #smut #ivar x reader #ragnar x reader #torvi x reader #ubbe x reader #lagertha x reader

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golddaggers · 3 years ago

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little taste of heaven

pairings: ubbe/torvi, ubbe/you, torvi/you

warnings: nsfw! contains fingering, sex, oral sex, cursing.

a/n: so this an indulging one for me and @stylinsonliving, we are constantly daydreaming about being married to both ubbe and torvi. loosely inspired in the MAGNIFICENT feverish love by the best out there @ritual-unions-gotme, i hope you don't mind, but it sparked my creativity! (the sacred romantic moments request is on the works!

word count: 4,2k+

“She is perfect, is she not?” Torvi’s velvet voice fills the room while her elegant fingers touch the intricate braids embellishing your hair.

King Ubbe stood before you, his gorgeous face disturbed in a serious frown. He’s torn between looking down at you, sitting in your tattered dress on his bed, and his wife, who’s knelt beside you, still touching you like she hasn’t asked you to bed her husband.

The entire situation is odd. You couldn’t quite grasp it was indeed happening, and it was not a figment of a fever dream from an affliction that had stricken you.

Torvi had spent the last couple of weeks watching you. Her pale blue eyes followed you around as you cleaned the tables, swept the halls, and filled up her family’s cups. At first, you thought she was all but making sure you were doing a proper job, then you noticed you were alone under her scrutiny. No other servants' jobs were dissected by their queen. Dread befell you. You were worried you’d be dismissed, sold to another master. So when she made her proposition, astonishment washed over you.

No one was supposed to know Torvi could no longer bear children, nor did she want to. Her king, however, wanted more. Needed more. She confided in you as she broke her fast, between a sip of her summer wine and a spread of honey over a chunk of steaming black bread. No one else had been there with you two. Ubbe had left long before the sun peeked through the white thick curtain of clouds that were ever hovering over Kattegat. The thralls had busied themselves cleaning other chambers while their mistress ate. The cook had gone out to find fresh parsley for lunch. Only you had been left behind, sweeping the dining room, keeping her company. The tales Torvi spoke about seemed far-fetched, you couldn’t believe she meant it until now.

Until he was here.

Parents teach their little daughters not to covet a man’s attention unless he willingly gives it to them. Ubbe never entertained you in any slightest way, however much you wanted him to. You’d been there when he married Margrethe, a secondary character fading in the background now. Then again when the gods blessed his union with Torvi, and when their little son was born. You witnessed it all. The iridescent blue of his scorching glance never found you interesting. Not that he should, either way. You were not extraordinary. Just a normal girl, whose life lacked any sort of wildness.

You didn’t feel so regular at this moment. Not with the ghosting of her lips across your temple, then down to your cheek, meeting the corner of your mouth in all the gentleness existing in the world. It was the first time you kissed a woman. Torvi’s lips were smooth and warm, pushed against yours.

“Do you find it wise?” His voice sounded hesitant, but not displeased. “She does look rather perfect.”

“Take her as your second wife,” She says. She’s so close you can feel her mouth moving to talk. “I want you to. You should have the children you want, even if I can’t give them to you.”

“And does she want to?”

Torvi had settled on your lap in the meanwhile, each of her legs hugging tight the width of your hips. She winked at you as an old-time friend would. Like you shared an unspoken secret. You relish the last brushing of her kiss on the tip of your nose and watch, bewildered, as she rises to a stand. Next to her husband, nothing but a petite thing. They looked so perfect together. Their eyes spoke in silence, the sort of intimacy you never had with anyone. One you longed to have, someday.

“Ask her,” Head tilted to the side, she smiled up at him. “She is a feisty little wolf, this one. That’s why I thought she’d be perfect to bear our children.”

“Do you, pup?” Ubbe kneels before you, both hands, rough and enticing all together, hold the round of your cheeks. He makes you look at him. “Is being my wife something you would want?”

It knocks the breath out of your lungs, having him so close to you. You can see the soft creases on his forehead, the tiny scars that can only bring out the natural beauty of him, and you get an up-close look at those eyes. From a distance, they can do only so much damage, but at this short length, they can wreck a ship. Untamed blue that drowns whoever dares to step closer. A shade of blue that belongs to a wild sea. It belongs to Njörthr himself. You swallow, your shallow breaths sputtering out in utter embarrassment, and nod. Because yes, how could it not be something you would want?

The room is shrouded with an unbeknown emotion. Your heart lurches against your ribs, it thumps and thumps and thumps. You feel it in your ears, in your clammy hands. If Ubbe can tell how nervous you are, he doesn’t show, instead, he smiles, his thumb tracing a line along with the apple of your cheek. For the second time that night, you are kissed. Unlike Torvi’s, his lips are thinner, less soft, more urgent. Though, regardless of their differences, both leave an uncomfortable pulse between your legs.

“Stand up,” His whisper makes a strange noise seep from you, but you comply.

He’s so tall. So big. The breadth of his shoulders, concealed beneath a leathered armour that glimmers under the dim light from two melting candles, is far wider than an ordinary man’s. His arms, when he spins you, by the Gods, they are so firm, so strong. You were sure you would turn into a puddle. He straightens your back, so you are forced to look at the comforting face of your mistress. It did nothing to help you, if anything, it worsened the warm pump of your blood, a wet mess gathering at the apex of your thighs.

You feel Ubbe unclasp the leather strip fastened around your waist, then proceed to undo each of the delicate buttons that kept the modest woollen blue dress in place. Torvi comes close to hold your hands, hers much warmer than yours had ever been, and softer, too. She drops them to hold your face, her lips a feverish pressure on your own. Another noise slips from you, muffled by the kiss.

She helps the sleeves out of your arms as soon as nothing holds the gown in place, the fabric sliding to the ground. The white slip you wore beneath was simple. It had been sewed by your late mother. She was quite good with needling, a trait that had died with her.

They stop to look at you, albeit close enough you can feel their warmth. You’re caged between them. You didn’t know what you had done to be in this place, but you thanked the skies above.

“Her hips are perfect,” Torvi mumbles, squeezing the supple flesh of your round hips. Pulling you in such a way your back was pressed to her chest. It felt like she was presenting you to him. “Perfect to bear children.”

“May I take this off?” He asks you, never minding his wife’s comment, though the flare in his nostrils let you know it had affected him. “Are you comfortable with all this?”

Another miserable nod is all you have to give him, Torvi’s fingers still on you, a gentle rub on the sides of your thighs.

“She’s too quiet,” Ubbe grumbles a curse. “Are you shy, pup? Is that it?”

“You’re too much, Ubbe,” Torvi complains. “I told her that if at any moment she wishes to leave, she can. She should. She’s here because she wants to.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Your voice is a little sound lost in the air. “I want to, master.”

His breath comes out in a scoff, “You should address me as husband, then, if you wish to be my wife. No wife of mine calls me otherwise.”

“As you wish.”

A fading smirk dons his face, it turns so quickly back into seriousness a wave of childish want to see it again topples down on you. He begins to undo the single knot at the jewel neckline of your smock, Torvi’s hand helping it off. You have no secrets left covered.

The swell of your breasts pulls his eyes as a strong wave brings foam to the coastline. Ubbe palms them. He twists your nipples until they are pebbled. Each strike sends a pang of pleasure throughout your body. It’s only when your mistress touches your sopping cunt, however, that you allow yourself to gasp. The tips of her fingers circle you, one teasing finger around the heat of your entrance. They both abuse your body in sinful, tantalising ways.

He bends to you, his warm mouth wrapping around one pebbled peak. His tongue swirls then suck. You arch your chest in his direction, unable to control yourself. A pretentious grin is smeared on his face when he spreads his large hands on the dip of your waist. The taunting index finger Torvi has playing with you slips inside, which makes an unexpected yelp leave you. There's so much happening at the same time, your mind whirls, dizzy with the growing pleasure at the bottom of your tummy.

Her thumb presses down on your clit, her teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. She works you at her pace, slowly but surely. Just the one finger going in then out. You can hear how wet you’ve grown, as sloshing noises echo each time she moves. Ubbe bites the tender skin of your neck, stealing your attention to him. He reaps the most indecent sounds at each small assault. You’re too sensitive.

Pleasure pours all over you like sticky honey, and you’re unsure if it was brought by the constant rasp of Ubbe’s beard, and his bewitching mouth, or the words that began dripping out of Torvi’s lips while her hand quickened, a welcoming burn within you when another of her thin fingers joined. Your body shook, giving in to the feeling, letting it break you. It’s so good.

Had they not been holding you, you’d have fallen. He scoops you into his arms, naked and limp, to place you in their bed. The soft mattress hugs your back when you’re lying down there. In front of you, Torvi is undressing. She’s wearing the most gorgeous silk dress you’ve seen. It’s screaming red. It flatters her fair complexion, but, if you must have an opinion, she looks a lot better without it. Ubbe takes the same care he did when he helps her out of her clothing, he kisses her neck all the way up to her cheek. You stay still, observing.

She eases him out of his heavy clothes, unbinding the brown leather straps of his vest. The dark-green tunic underneath follows suit, his chest exposed for you. A mess of dark blond hair on his chest tugs your attention, the expanse of it makes you feel so small. Torvi steps away so he can kick off the sturdy leather boots, and his breeches. Both man and woman are a sight for sore eyes. They kiss in an urgent fit, a wet tangle of tongues that makes you clasp your legs together.

Unlike the soothing touches he gave you, Ubbe squeezes her breasts hard, enough to leave a ruddy streak behind. He lifts her, too, tossing her on the bed, careless, her body bounces as she laughs next to you.

“Say, sweets,” Her voice rings as she looks in your direction, him with her foot on his hands, his mouth slithering its way up to her knee. “Have you ever been with a man?”

“Once,” You confess, ashamed of your inexperience. “A long while ago.”

“She’s going to be so tight for you, darling,” Torvi giggles. “Think you can take him?”

“If that is what he wants.”

“Such a good woman for your husband,” You’re pulled down for a heated smack of lips. “Will you be good for me, too?”

You nod, in a near delirium state. He’s sneaked between your legs, prying you open to him. The glisten of gathered slick makes his eyes glisten in a crushing lust. Ubbe bullies your snug entrance with just the tip of his index and middle fingers, his are so much thicker than Torvi’s. You wince, a pained whine leaving your quivering lips.

“Does it hurt, pup?” Concern swims in his light tone.

“A little,” He stopped, his eyebrows knitted together in a preoccupied grimace. “I can take it. I want you to take me.”

“She is feisty,” Ubbe grins up to his wife. “Then I shall take you, pup.”

His fingers slid deeper into you. The stretch is new, it burns, but it’s appeased by the gentle touch of the pad of his thumb on your clit. Torvi palms your chest, your nipples hard and sensitive. You were in paradise. This had to be what paradise was like, unwinding and everlasting satisfaction.

She leans in to bring one hard peak into her mouth, her round breasts standing too close for you to deny yourself a taste. Your eyes are keen to notice the flutter on her belly when you do, your tongue sliding tentatively around one pink nipple. She smiles, then clamps her teeth around you, drawing a broken sound from you, muffled on her skin.

A small whimper echoes when Ubbe pulls his fingers out. Torvi kisses your parted lips one last time before moving to where he stood, at the foot of the bed. She nudges you to move back, the crown of your head pressed up against the headboard. She lies on her stomach, each hand settling at the base of your thighs. It flames the growing pain from being denied a peak seconds before, to watch this beautiful woman with her head between your legs. The fair strands of her hair tickle when it touches your skin. You’re surrendered.

The first contact of her warm mouth on the tender flesh of your inner thigh sends you into overdrive. You tip your head back, eyes sealed shut. Ubbe is there, you can feel his heat. His hands rub your arms for a second, only to pull them up, holding you as his wife has her first taste of your cunt. She laps with confidence only a woman could have. Confidence that she would please. That she can take one more from you before her husband has the chance.

“Gods,” You say, gripping Ubbe’s arms. “I-I…”

“So sweet, look, she doesn’t curse,” His deep voice mumbles out, inclining forwards to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s going to be fun fucking you until you do.”

Her spit dribbles down when she takes a breath, hot and dirty. Torvi slides a finger into you again, pretty mouth nursing the painful pulse at the crest of your sex. The high feels like it’s a breath away. He whispers sweet encouragement words, his grasp of you the only anchor you possess to the palpable world while hers only sent you further down the chasm.

She eats and eats. It’s a feast that leaves your brain in a muddled daze, your hips rolling against her face as if you have no control over what your body does. You look up to find his eyes on you, nothing but want in the fine tint of blue left. Perhaps that’s what it took for you to break down. Whatever it was, it hit you much stronger than the first one, disjointed words blubbering out from you. You fell limp on the bed, heavy and spent. But she didn’t stop until you were begging her to.

They let you take a rest. You hear him curse, you hear the slaps, the dirty words that would make you mortified, though now they bring a wave of heat down on you. Head tilted back, your tired eyes almost fail to comprehend how tight he's holding her, how rough he's kissing her lips, with a hunger comparable to a wild animal. Yes. Ubbe ravished her like a wolf would its prey. His fingers rub her pussy, easing his fingers much more easily than it eased on you, her having much more experience than you did. Shame stung your cheeks, you were so innocent.

“Look at her, dove, staring at us,” He had one arm looped around her arching back. “You want to know how good Torvi tastes, pup? I can tell you it’s the best thing you’ll ever have.”

“She tastes good, too,” Torvi moans, his pace growing alongside her sweet noises. “So fucking good. Ah, fuck, Ubbe-”

“See, pup, you have to curse, too,” Ubbe quickens, his wife clinging to him for dear life. “Like she does. To let me know I’m making her feel good.”

You prop yourself up, sitting back on your knees on one corner of the bed. No words leave your lips, but your hand finds its way between your legs, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable throb that grows anew there. Ubbe smirks, so full of himself, that he has two beautiful women on his bed, that he has them both worked up. He beckons you to come closer, which you do, his warmth makes you sigh.

“Touch her,” His voice dips to silky sweetness. You gaze at him, unsure, pitiful even. “I will show you how.”

His hand must feel much better on her than yours, being so big and dexterous while yours was smaller and clumsy. You breathe out, hash and desperate, when he guides you to the hot, drenching mess of Torvi. Her blissful features let you know she enjoys what you’re doing, though it’s more her husband’s doing than your own. A tiny smile stretches your lips up, your thumb giving her clit o-shaped strokes. Ubbe mumbles that you’re doing so good for them, so, so good. Confidence bathes you at that moment. You can understand how he walks around so smug like the world belongs to him. Treasuring this woman did that to you.

Once you get the hang of it, he lets you do you, his touch lingering on the curve of your waist. One finger sneaked up her tight entrance, daring to pump in then out, still working her bundle of nerves, appreciating each bubbly noise she let out. He teases you, biting down on your neck, sucking marks to the fragile skin. Slick pools at the tight crevice between your legs, you’re so aroused. You didn’t know your body could do so much.

She falls apart on your hand, you edge it out of her, and you whine in tandem with her, so delighted to just watch her. To observe as pleasure wrings her up then release, her thighs clamping your hand. Ubbe paints a wet kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing as it goes down again, the rough of his palms on your breasts, he gives them absent-minded squeezes. The pressure builds on your lower abdomen from it all, ebbs and flows as the tide does in the early morning.

Torvi kisses you, sweet and slow. Your finger is still inside her, the spasms of her peak chewing it up. It’s hot and wet, it squelches when you pull it out from her. He moves away from you as she begins to push you down, it’s an unhurried, deliberate motion. You can tell she is just trying to make you more comfortable, even tucking a pillow below your hips to raise them.

Rain begins to spatter against the closed windows, or perhaps you’d been so inattentive, you didn’t notice the change in the weather. The dying fire of the fireplace crept, its fainting sounds just now discernible. The brief moment of silence let you soak up as much of this place as you could. If this falls through, you want to remember each tiny detail of this day.

“Be gentle with her,” Torvi warns. She’s sat back, your head on the soft plush of her thigh. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” You smile up at her, then nuzzle on her, a careless display of affection you didn’t know where it came from. “So very much okay.”

His warmth spreads over you when he lies on top of you. It’s so intense, the weight of him pinning you down, your legs spread apart to welcome him between them. You could feel every ridge of him, every single detail. This newfound closeness is heady, it confuses your thoughts, all the coherence fleeing as losing troops during a battle. It’s there, the steady pulse of his heart, while he whispers that you can trust him. That you can give yourself to him, that it is okay to do so.

The fat head of his cock teases your pussy, sliding up and down for a beat or two. It pushes a noise out of you, in pure distress, you’re so desperate to have him. To feel him inside, the stretch that would be likely to leave you with a limp. You dreamed about this. You longed to be craved in a way that wobbles your legs. Right now, with the enticing words he mumbled out of honeyed lust, you felt wanted. When Torvi touched you, it felt like a drug, and this was the final nail that locked you in. You were stuck with them now.

Ubbe eased himself in, breaching you. In his eyes, there’s nothing but true regard, even in silence, you can feel he wants this to be good for you too. A soft smile paints across your face, your short nails digging to the firm flesh of his shoulders. A slight trace of pain washes over you, one you do your best to conceal, though useless since he catches it, slowing things down even more. His low grunts do not help, the sounds make you clench, in need.

Torvi strokes your hair. You tip your head back to look up at her. She’s so beautiful. You could get used to being pampered by her, not just while her husband fucks you, but all the time. It had never crossed your mind that you could feel this much at once. The roll of his hips on yours, her delicate hands on you. It brought the alluring pressure at the bottom of your tummy right back, so quick it felt impossible.

He hides his face on the crook of your neck, staining the unblemished skin. The sounds being knocked out of you grew and grew. Being so vocal was atypical, when you were bedded, you had been quiet, when you touched yourself, in the silent, cold nights, hidden beneath thick furs, you were quieter. Each snap, however, had them coming. His cock was so deep in you, the bottoming out only made him go further when sliding back in, as if he was in want to claim each inch within you, to mark as his all tiny crevices you had.

You search for the hot press of his lips on yours, a kiss that’s not at all about love, it’s feral, wild. Your tongues roll together, the sounds muffled by the other’s mouth. The hairs on his chest scrape yours, you can’t help but grip tighter onto him. Each nerve in your body seems to be attuned to the littlest movement he does, all of them capturing how close you are to breaking.

When it comes, it’s hard. It topples you down to a bone-crushing fall that rattles you. A pleasure that takes and takes. A tired, spent moan bubbles on your throat. You’re wrapped on him, you realise, taking all the hard ruts he’s still giving. It helps you through the rush you’re feeling, a lingering aftertaste that you are not willing to let go of just yet. Somewhere beneath your ribs, you feel the rapid pulses of your heart.

Had you not been so wrung out already, you mulled over the thought that it’d be possible he’d rob another one from you just by the way he looks when he falls apart. The animalist growls. It sounds like he'd slash and maul and break anyone who would dare to take you from him right now. With his bare hands. Scorching, thick ropes of cum root deep into your cunt, Ubbe spends himself until he can’t anymore.

Instead of moving away, he settles his head on your chest, one arm holding his weight up so he doesn’t crush you. For the longest time, the three of you remain in silence. Torvi moves to lie down beside you, holding your tired hand on hers. You sigh, life starts to down on you, the bruises you’d be sporting for weeks after. His seed, if it stuck, would be with you, too. If it didn’t, you would have fun trying all over again.

At last, when the cold starts to be uncomfortable, Ubbe rolls to the other side, so you’re between him and his wife. You try to will yourself to stay awake, though it’s to no avail. Something tells you, you would have a long night of sleep, undisturbed if you were blessed.

“Can we keep her, then?” The sweet voice you knew belonged to the blonde woman to your left.

“Oh, you can be assured of that, my dove,” Ubbe kisses your cheek, nosing your temple. “This pup here is ours to keep.”

#ubbe x you #ubbe x torvi #torvi x you #ubbe #torvi #ubbe smut #ubbe x torvi smut #ubbe x you smut #torvi x you smut #vikings #ubbe x reader #ubbe x ofc #torvi x reader #smut #fluff-ish #no use of y/n

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hecohansen31 · 4 years ago

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Hey guys!

First of all: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

Since it is indeed pride month, I’m going to do something special to celebrate it and I have already a few ideas, but I wanted to tell you that if you want to send a request for a LGBTQ+ fic I am here for it (I am always here for it, honestly and truly).

If you want for me to write a male insert in your fics, just let me know and I will.

Or if you want any female character alongside a female reader (I am always open for the female characters of the shows that I watch) (and also you can ask me genderbent version of male characters, in fact I do have a genderbent Ivar fic!)

I also will try my best to write for asexual or aromantic reader, alongside transexual and genderfluid, although I’ll put a huge disclaimer that it is my first time to ever do that, so please just be mindful and let me know what I can do to make my writing better.

This is obviously not going to last only for the month of June, but I just wanted to remind you that you can always come to me with this kind of request (just specifying please).

And now I’ll leave you alone, but just know that my requests are still open!

#female characters that I'll write for #(excuse me I am literally extremely gay for her)#Gunnhild x Reader #Brida x Reader #Torvi x Reader #Lagertha x Reader #Aslaug x Reader #Thorunn x Reader #Astrid x Reader #Iseult x Reader #Hild x Reader #(and all the other women from 'The Last Kingdom'/'Vikings' you can think of)#(Or any show that I usually write for)#(also if you want I can write the reader as a male with another male character just let me know)

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

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➳ Away From Home

❛ pairing | Ubbe x Reader x Torvi

❛ type | oneshot

❛ request | Sy, get this: ubbe with a plump or chubby short little wife who he spoils like crazy and adores and she keeps his home and farm and keeps his crazy little wolf pups at bay. I keep rewatching ubbe and Bjorn and Ivar and hvitty scenes from the last few episodes and had this thought (cause I’m over the war between brothers, gov my boys wives and babies and let them relax please lol) + Could you do ubbe like just super day to day tasks with domestic ubbe? Maybe one of the kids needs some extra attention or something? Love you

“Aaluf, bring in the clothes.”

The glowing sun began to set on an otherwise dismal day. The days had been dreary and cold. The days were shorter than you would have liked for the farm. In Ubbe’s absence, you carry on your normal business taking care of the land left behind by your husband, shooing the livestock into the barn for the cold frost.

It was a hard life but it would be a good life. This was after all Ubbe’s dream. If it was his dream to do just as his father had always wanted; you would uphold that. Both a good thing and a bad thing, as after all Ubbe was constantly facing the need of King Alfred and opposition from home.

“Móðir , Sigurd is in the skyr!”

Gods help you. Even your clothes had bits of hay from feeding your milk cows.

“Mind the clothes Asa.” You set down freshly laundered clothes and go to where the stored skyr was. As predicted your little flaxen prince had fingers full of the sticky dairy. Your hands become fists on the bend of your waist.

“Sigurd.” You sweep the young boy out of the vat, setting him upon the ground. “I’ll get you sour milk instead.”

“Princess (Y/N), the cows are out! Did you not lock the barn doors?”

Your heart drops as you look out to two of your thralls. From the look on your face, the male thrall already knows that you had not. He darts down the entryway, having brought in wood for the hearth that you should have been in charge of anyway. Cows were not cheap. Not cheap at all. You could have cried but instead, you dart through that door with a word to Aaluf and Askold-- Ubbe’s nephew by Hvitserk-- to watch Sigurd.

“Shut the doors.”

“Yes, dróttinn!” Your male slave pulls the barn doors shut, drawing the wooden plank across the large ashy barn to ensure it would be shut. Turning away from the door, you spot the tight rolls of one of your love’s braids. Torvi secured the bottom latches of the door shut. You huff, breath catching heavy on your lungs.

“Torvi.” You step slowly. Torvi turns to walk up to you, grasping your soft hands in her slender ones. She leans in and sets a soft kiss upon your lips.

“I am glad you are well.” She says. It’s as good as an “I missed you” as you would get with the shieldmaiden. You lean into her kiss, reaching around her neck with to wind your arms around her neck. It’s always something of a feat. She’s so tall-- you’re so little! She lifts you off the ground, loosely spinning you once and then twice before setting you back down. You shift your dress over your round curves again.

“And Ubbe?”

“Fetching his father’s goats.” She says. Oh, his goats.

You never would have forgiven yourself if you lost Ragnar’s sheep. Your cheeks warm, nodding in agreement to her words. Moments later your husband surfaces around the side of the barn, a lamb tucked under his arm. Your thrall jots beside him, bringing the sheep into the barn for the evening.

“I hope the children were better behaved than the sheep,” Ubbe says. You run your hands over the side of your plump figure, weaving with a small smile. Fadir is home! Modir too! The children bellow from inside. Even Asa has lit up into squeals.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Torvi makes note of your babies squealing for their father. He walks forward and cradles your cheek in her hand, leaning down to your level in order to kiss you. You tippy toe to meet his lips, cracked with the taste of the sea. You meet his warm kisses with your own, giggling half way through when Ubbe’s hand leaves your cheek in order to squish your round ass between his fingers.

“Stop it!” You laugh, slapping his knuckles off of your ass.

“Let’s go in,” Ubbe says. “You’ve kept my children for me?”

“Of course. Our children.” You say pointedly. Your job in the home was very defined. While Torvi and Ubbe were out raiding, supporting kings, you would take care of his estate and the children upon it. Nor just yours, but Torvi’s too.

“Fadir!” The children tumble out of the door, howling like the little wolves that Ubbe was named after. You rip away from your husband, lacing your hand with his free one. Torvi takes your other, giving them that look-- the one that meant they better get their sorry asses back inside. Aaluf, your thrall comes in behind your husband, wife and you. Asa stands up with her hands heavy with plump little Sigurd.

“We’re going! We’re going!” She dips back inside, the lamb bleats under Ubbe’s arm. Sigurd’s little hands are opening and closing, delightfully excited for the lamb that he loved to pet and sleep on. It was his father’s lamb’s grandchild-- tiny and cute.

They must have been exhausted. So were you.

“Another day,” Torvi says to you, smiling.

“Another day.” You agree.

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke@arses21434, @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27, @flokidottir-imagines-br, @sincerelysinister, @allvikingsfanfic,

#Ubbe x Reader #Torvi x Reader #Ubbe x Reader x Torvi #5cw: Ubbe #vikings imagines #viking imagine #vikings/reader #shieldmaiden/reader #Ubbe #Ubbe Ragnarsson #Torvi #Shieldmaiden x Reader

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lilacwineandthesinkingsun · 2 years ago

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To be in the favor of Gods... PART 4.

AN: I got back into Vikings. AAAABSOLUTELY obsessed w the Ragnarssons ofc... who isn't?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT: PLEASE SCROLL AWAY! THIS IS NOT FOR YOUR EYES.

Part 3 here.

I know my sister. If they would marry her, and she'd somehow agree, she wouldn't share you with another... she'd rather slit your throats herself..and don't tell me two of the most infamously insaitable sons of Ragnar would be up for celibacy for one scarred woman.. - he said before walking away.

-Don't give up my boys, your mother still has her gifts and how many times did we have sex?!...

3 years later....

Halfdan was away raiding with Bjorn, Halfdan tried to take Kattegat but failed. Alsaug and Ragnar wre now dead. Their sons bloodthirsty, you saw it all. Since you have told Harald that the gods will not let him take Kattegat for now, he was angry. He kicked you out, saying that you must be the whore of Ragnar's sons. So this is how you have found yourself as a servant of Lagertha. Servant, and friend. You were good with kids, your cooking was like it was straight from valhalla, and you were good with healing too. Not to mention your gifts. You had your own hut now. One night, you woke up to Ivar breathing down in your face, holding a knife to your throat.

-You will show me my future or i'll kill you. - he threatened.

You angrily sat up, took the his hand with the knife in it, and cut your palm, holding it up for him to drink, before putting another hand on his temple.

You both saw all the anger, you both saw the past, how he threatened Margrethe, this is also how you found Ubbe was actually married now. You saw him on a carriage in battle, anger and victroy flashing in his eyes. Yet you never saw any woman or any love in his future, nor children. When he opened his eyes again, you let go of him, turning your back to him trying to go back to sleep. In the morning you found a boquet of flowers next to you. It must have been him. He might have a heart after all. You set it aside, getting ready for your day.

In the great hall Lagertha and Torvi looked at eachother after seeing your bandaged hand. You knew they saw it. So you left, saying you'll gather some mushrooms for the soup.

In the forest Ubbe surprises you as you were washing the mushrooms in the stream.

-Why didn't you send the children to gather mushrooms?

-I needed a break from people. - you said with a smile.

-What happened to your hand? - he asked.

-I cut it. - you told him with a straight face, urging away the tears that threatened to escape.

-For whom? - he asked as he sat down behind you gathering you in his arms, gently taking your bandaged hand.

-It doesn't matter Ubbe.

-It matters to me. - he said touching his forehead to the back of your head as he holds you tighter.

-Why are you not with your wife Ubbe? -you asked still close to tears. You believed that now that your brothers disowned you you may had a future with him. Well, not anymore anyways.

He sighed and got up.

-She's fucking Hvitserk in the forest hut.. - he said before walking away.

When you got back Ivar was sitting with Lagherta with his most evil smile, Lagertha's face laced with worry as they both saw you.

-(Y/n)! - he said with fake happiness. - i told Lagherta what you had shown me about OUR future. She had blessed our marriage. We'll marry in 5 days at the full moon. - he smiled as he crawled away. As you stood there looking at Lagherta in disbelief the tears you tried to keep back finally escaping. You thought of running away, or killing yourself. You could not marry him. Surely he wouldn't have sex with you, you both knew that was impossible, but you were terrified of him. He was so full of anger it made him insane, ruthless. You did not love him. That night you visited Torvi and Lagherta, telling them you loved them and wished them the best, before leaving. Ivar got word of it, so he sent a searchparty after you. You were soon found, you tried to stand your ground but you were greatly outnumbered. You were taken back to Lagherta's and Ragnar's old farm, tied to the pillar in the middle. You were bleeding from various cuts, bruises started to form all over you. Then you saw noone for days. On the day of the full moon you saw the faceless bride again. There was no escaping this.

Ivar crawled in, smirking at your abused form. He got up close and held a knife to your face.

-I know you won't ever love me (Y/n), but i need you, you'll help me become even greater than my father.

-Not if it's not the gods's will. - you whispered.

-Well, just to be sure, no one else will ever want to marry you. - he said as he cut a line from your forehead down your cheek, nearly to your neck. He left your eye out. You were bleeding heavily. Slaves came in, crying at the sight, but they dressed you in a white gown, they hid your face with a white cloth, but you bled through it anyways, just as you bled on your dress too. You were the faceless bride in the blood soaked dress...

You don't remember the way to the dock, but you remember the tears and worry in Kattegat's eyes. There stood a man at the end of the dock, with Ivar smiling at you sickly as you tried to stumble towards him. Falling to your knees repeatedly. 20 ships arrived, but noone dared to look away from you. You were trying to walk to the end of the dock, as you wished Thor would strike you with his hammer so you'd die on the way. Ubbe stood behind Margrethe, on the other side stood Lagherta and Torvi. They all angry, yet they couldn't do anything. Ivar won.

As you now crawled halfway through the dock, you heard steps behind you, but dared not to look back. You were gathered in strong arms, before you were handed over to another. Bjorn took a look at your face, gave your nearly lifeless body to Halfdan (he did not know of your brother disowning you yet) before taking his axe and stroming towards Ivar.

-Bring my bride back Bjorn. - he smirked.

-Bride? You think that is how you're supposed to treat someone you want to marry?

-I don't need her pretty, i need her gifts.

Bjorn's nose flared, his jaw clenched in anger before he kicked Ivar's chair into the water, a few of his men already jumping after him.

-Don't you dare even look at her, or the next time, i'll tie you under my ship. - he said before walking away, trying to find you.

Lagherta was treating your cut when he found you, Halfdan was holding your hand to his lips as he prayed you'll make it at least for another day.

-Mother, why is she even here alone?

Lagherta looked at both.

-Harald disowned her, kicked her out in the wilderness after he had lost the battle for Kattegat, which she told him he would lose. I took her in. Ivar said she had shown him that they will marry. But i see now that wasn't true..

Halfdan looked at her in disbelief, then back at you.

-Poor, poor (Y/n).. how could our brother do this to you when you have told him the gods will? - Halfdan asked of nobody.

You were starting to regain consciousness when you hissed as someone grabbed your other hand as well. Panic setting in you started to trash around, until you heard Halfdan's comforting words.

-Shhh it's me sister, it's me, noone will hurt you anymore. shhh, you're safe.

You opened your eyes, looked at him, and then saw Bjorn, with tears in his eyes.

-B..bj...bjorn.. - you whispered.

-Yes, i'm here now. I won't leave you here again. - he said as he kissed your bandaged knuckles.

-You sure won't, i am taking her home. - noted Halfdan.

-N-n-no.. Har-Ha-Harald will kill me. - you said tears streaming down your face.

-I'll go talk to him.. - Halfdan said, before leaving.

-Pl.. please c-c-can you s..stay? - you asked Bjorn after your brother left.

He shutting the doors and windows before gently sitting next to you, holding your hand.

The next morning Lagherta opened the door, to see you sleeping while Bjorn also sleeps in a sitting position holding your hand. She smiled at this antic, wishing it will end well.

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

You woke up to shouts.

Ubbe and Bjorn were shouting over your sleeping form.

-Our brother tried to kill her, and all you can think is leaving your fucking wife, so she'd marry you instead? Do you hear yourself Ubbe? Do you?

-I never loved Margrethe, and i love (Y/n), she is all i've ever loved..

-It is simply not for you to decide brother. Why don't you go and pray she'll make it until tomowwor after what Ivar did to her... - Bjorn said in anger, making you hiss as he gripped your bandaged handa bit too hard, making them look at you.

-I.. i will not marry anyone. Nor do any of you love me. I am still alive only cause of my gifts, and now that i won't even be pretty to look at, i may as well go out and die in the mountains.. - you whispered before trying to get up, but fail.

-(Y/n)... - Ubbe tried to plead.

-Just go.. both of you... - you said turning away from them.

The next time you woke up Lagherta was cleaning your scars gently.

-I'm glad you woke up.. You had a high fever and nigthmares for a week. - she said as she continued. - The boys came here every day to talk to you, hoping you'd hear..

-I.. i heard their stories. I just.. i couldn't tell which was a dream, which was a prophecy or them talking.. - you said.

-For which you wished to be true? - she asked, before the door creaked open to reveal Bjorn with an antler carved fully with runes. He basically ran in falling on his knees next to you as he saw you were awake.

-I'll leave you two to talk. - Laghertha said before gripping your hand and her son's shoulder with a smile.

-I thought you'll never wake up again. - he said bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving them there.

-Just another prophecy fulfilling itself. We both know i already have seen way past then the bloody bride. - you smiled at him, taking your hand from his, and gently cupping the side of his face. He leaned into your touch with his eyes closed.

-I just wish we could've skipped to the right parts.. - he whispered, his blue eyes shining at you.

-The gods like to test us. To humble us, to make us believe.. and i believe that is just what they did. I am still here, you are still here, you stll visit me every day. No matter that im hideous, or all that im good for is telling what the gods tell me to say..

-(Y/n).. you are so much more than that. You have sacrificed yourself for our people, you took care of our children. You were hurt, battered, bruised yet you still smiled. You are a healer, an amazing cook, one of the greatest shield-maidens, a seer, and the most beautiful woman i have ever seen.

-But.. i .. i am not beautiful anymore.. I saw what... your brother did to me..

-You are still beautiful. A scar won't ever change that... - he said as he leaned closer. Your noses were nearly touching. - I only ever had eyes for you (Y/n).. and i only ever will .. - he said before softly kissing you. Upon the touch your eyes will filled with even more vivid images of the future. Happier times, smiles, loving touches. You could see it all. Growing old together. Yet, most of the pictures had another in them. He was like a ghost, slowly fading, yet he was there.

When he broke the kiss, you knew he saw what you did. Then he saw the tears in your eyes.

-It's okay (Y/n). If that is what the gods want, i'll let him, as long as he treats you as he should..

-But... he's married to Margrethe.. - you said.

-He left her 4 days ago, after you were screaming his name while having a nightmare.

-I.. i don't understand.. why would he.. why would that be enough reason?

-You ever saw how he looked at you? or how he talked about you?

-You know i didn't.. I was a prisoner of my brother, then of Ivar. You were away raiding, stometimes him too, only to come back and marry her, even though he knew she was in love with Hvitserk and Sigurd..

-He was hurt. Now, please tell me what did Ivar exactly do to you..

-He.. he threatened to kill me if i don't show him his future.. - you lifted your bandaged hand. - he then told lies to Lagherta about it before i could even tell her, it was decided, he would marry me. I then decided to leave, to live in the wilderness, but his men outnumbered me. I was beaten, cut, bruised, then tied to a pillar in... in the old farm of Ragnar without food or water for days, then on the day of the wedding, he came in, cut my face " just to be sure noone would ever want to marry me.. then ... he made me.. he made me walk over there like that... laughing... bleeding.. then.. you know the rest..

He was fuming. He threw a cup to the other side of the room, strantling you a bit. Ubbe rushing in as he heard the commotion.

-I'm going to kill Ivar... - Bjorn shouted before leaving, shutting the door behind him making you flinch.

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

It was time to avenge their father. So it was also the time you saw your brothers again. You stood in the middle of the path between Laghertha and Bjorn as your brothers walked towards you.

Halfdan hugged you, before lifting the cloth, taking a look at the scar that adorned your face now. You tried to hide it before Harald sees it, but it was too late. You saw his jaw clenching, but he just walked away, not acknoweledging you. Bjorn hugged you to himself.

-It will be alright. - he said before putting a kiss on your forehead.

Harald saw this, and turned to Halfdan.

-Since when is she his woman?

-As far as i know she is not.

-Does she still have her gifts?

-Yes she does. - Halfdan answered.

At night at the feast Harald stood up and prepared for the toast.

-As you know my beautiful sister is here in Kattegat, i would like to ask for forgiveness for my mistake, and take her to the raid with us.. - he lifted his chalice, looking at you, as all the men were hurraying in the great hall.

Laghertha stood up, smiling at him.

-You have disowned her, humiliated her, she is in this state because of you, and now you think i will let her go with you?

-I am rather sure your son Bjorn will gladly take care of her Queen Lagertha. - he smirked as he walked up to Bjorn, putting a hand around his shoulders. - if we both make it out alive i may even give him her hand in marriage. - he laughed. This was some kind of sick joke. You stood up, lifting the hood from your head, revealing your face to all the men, who went mute at the sight.Scar still showing but now adorned with rune tattoos across the right side of your face.

-I will go, but not for your love, not for your men. I will go to fight beside the Ragnarssons, avengig their father. The gods have shown me great victory, which would be a victory without you as well my dear brother. I have no need for your love, i do not need to forgive you, for all you ever did was use me for my gifts. Which believe me brother had hurt me greater than any of the christian's punishments. My hand in marriage is not for you to give, it is for me to decide. But a month from now we will be feasting for winning the great war, with the greatest viking army this world has ever seen. - you shouted. The men hurraying, drinking again loudly. Ubbe's and Bjorn's eyes sparkling on you, Harald fuming. You left for your room, when Ubbe caught up with you. He pushed you to the wall and kissed you passionately.

The sea was angry, the trip wasn't smooth, but you all made it, you all managed to keep the boats afloat and together. You saw the worry on Ubbe's and Bjorn's face as you nearly fell into the water, but you just smirked at them. When the night came the sea calmed down, and you felt warm bodies crawl on either side of you, both holding you close. You needed not to look, you knew who they were.

In the morning you were gently tracing Ubbe's tattoo on his face, when his bright blue eyes opened, ever so happy to see you so close.

-How are you princess? - he asked in a low voice making you softly giggle before playing with his beard.

-I slept rather well... the weather wasnt so cold last night.. - you smiled at him knowin he knew what you meant. But then with a growl, you were picked up and rolled inberween the ship and the other man. Bjorn held you close to his chest, before motioning Ubbe to go.

-Go take a piss or something, help with the food or row.. - he said before kissing you, as you heard Ubbe laugh.

-Will you not be jealous of eachother? - you whispered to Bjorn.

-We have talked about it a lot when you were sickly. It is fated, our feelings are unmoving and true.. If you'll have us... - he said looking into your eyes.

#ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe x you #bjorn x reader #bjorn x you #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #vikings #fanfic #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #lagherta #lagertha #torvi #hvitserk #sigurd #margethe

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asongofmarvelanddc · 3 years ago

Text

Sworn Enemies PT10

PAIRING: Alfred X Reader

WORD COUNT: 7874

WARNINGS: Violence.

SUMMARY: While Alfred and Y/N remain at odds, King Harald’s army moves in. An arrest is made, and Y/N learns of a possible sibling.

MASTERLIST

A/N: guess who's back (back back) back again

Apparently it was wrong of you to assume that your wedding night would be between just you and Alfred. Instead, here you were, standing in the middle of your chambers, wearing nothing but a slip and a cloak, surrounded by strangers including a Priest and a few of your handmaidens.

Alfred stood in front of you, also dressed in his undergarments and a long cloak, clearly avoiding your eyes. You weren’t quite sure what was happening, but you trusted him, so you remained silent.

The Priest recited something in Latin as two men began taking off Alfred’s cloak. At that same moment, you felt two pairs of hands on your shoulders, attempting to pull yours off as well. In shock, you shrugged them off and turned to confront your handmaidens.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The two women looked slightly intimidated as they answered, “Undressing you, my – Your Grace.”

You looked at them dumbfounded, “Why?”

The Priest stopped his recitation and turned to you. “Are you not aware of how marriage consummations are carried out?” he asked.

“Of course, I am,” you said, “But if that is what we are doing, why are you all still here?”

No one said a word. You looked between each of the men, waiting for an explanation, but none came. Not until Alfred spoke.

“The Priest has to bless the bed – as he has just done – and then they watch us...get into bed.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. You had not been told that this was going to happen.

“It is how things are done, Your Grace,” the Priest said.

“I don’t care how things are done,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes and turning to Alfred, “Do you not think this is a little perverted?”

All the men in the room, bar Alfred, let out a horrified gasp.

“Excuse me, just what are you implying?” the Priest asked.

“I am not ‘implying’ anything,” you said, “I am saying that it is none of your business what Alfred and I do - or don’t do - on our wedding night.”

Everyone in the room looked at you like a woman who had just murdered an infant. Alfred sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, “My Lords, may I have a moment alone with my wife?”

They all nodded and began shuffling out of the room, muttering incoherent sentences under their breaths and shooting death glares at you. As soon as the door closed shut, you let out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.

“Y/N-” Alfred began with a pleading tone in his voice.

“No, Alfred,” you swiftly cut him off before he could even begin to make a case for tradition, “I will not consummate my marriage like this.”

“I am not fond of the custom either, but it is tradition,” he said, “I'm afraid we don't have a choice.”

You shot him a look and crossed your arms, “And if I told you that in Kattegat we would have to make a sacrifice to the gods, would you do that?”

“We are not in Kattegat, this is Wessex.”

“Yes. And I am not Saxon.”

He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head, You knew that you were putting him in a difficult position, and that the Priest would not be happy if you didn’t go through with this, but nevertheless, you stood your ground. You had already compromised a lot since coming to Wessex, and this was one thing you would not waver on.

Alfred looked up at you, and upon seeing your arms still folded across your chest and your raised brow, he knew there was no talking you into this. “What am I supposed to tell them?” he sighed, finally giving in.

You let out a breath of relief and looked away thoughtfully. “You’re the King,” you said with a shrug, “Tell them whatever you want.”

He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Only for you,” he whispered, a gentle smile on his lips as he walked past you and out of the room.

You walked over to the side of the bed and sat down, letting out a deep breath as you ran your hand over the soft, silky material of the bedding. On the other side of the bedroom door, you could hear voices arguing and assumed that your refusal to do this ceremony was not going over well.

Before long, Alfred returned, shaking his head in annoyance, “We have agreed to dispense with the formalities.”

“You have?” you asked in disbelief.

Alfred shrugged his shoulders as he walked towards you and leaned against the wall, “Well, they were more reluctant than I, but the important part is that we came to an understanding.”

You cracked a smile as you nodded your head, knowing that they probably did not have much choice in that.

Alfred pushed himself off the wall and walked to the other side of the bed. He sat down on the edge, his back turned to you. Although you had been left to your own devices, you suspected that Alfred had only grown more anxious. You could see how tense his shoulders were from where you were sitting.

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

You hesitated before speaking, “Are you scared?”

“I’m not,” he scoffed, but bowed his head and mumbled softly, “Just nervous.”

You knew Alfred had lived a more sheltered life than most and was not used to intimacy. This would be his first time with a woman, and you remembered how nerve-wracking it had been for you despite being exposed to it for most of your life.

You stood up slowly, removing your cloak in the process and letting it fall to the floor, before walking towards him. He flushed a little as you hiked up your slip and straddled his thighs, but made no move to push you off of him.

He froze as you slipped a hand under his silk shirt and shuddered as you lay your palm flat against his chest. Your lip twitched a little as you flicked your gaze up at him, “Your heart is beating very fast.”

He chuckled nervously and avoided your intense gaze. “Perhaps I’m...just a little bit scared,” he whispered.

You moved your hand from his cheek and brushed his hair out of his face. He let out a deep sigh at your touch and licked his lips nervously.

“You don’t have to be scared with me,” you spoke softly before leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss.

__________________________

“You’re lying.”

“I am not lying, Judith,” you said, “I heard everything. Their plan is to kill Alfred at the War Council. Lord Cyneheard and others are all working together...And Aethelred is their leader.”

Judith looked like she was about to explode with anger. You had told her everything you saw and heard the night before, but she was in denial. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Aethelred would ever do anything to harm his own brother.

“No,” she shook her head once more, biting her nails anxiously, “No, you’re lying.”

“What reason do I have to lie?”

“I don’t know!” she suddenly yelled before storming towards you, pointing an accusatory finger, “You know Aethelred is the closest person to Alfred. Perhaps you want him out of the way so you can control my son again.”

You let out a sigh of frustration, “Alfred and I are not even on speaking terms.”

“Exactly,” she said, smiling widely like she had just caught you in a lie, “You claim that you are angry at Alfred for betraying you, yet here you stand warning me about an alleged attack on his life. Why should you care if he lives or dies?”

The question caught you off guard. Of course, you knew exactly why. You cared because he was the one who had formed an alliance with your brothers, and without him, it was sure to fall through.

You cared because he was the father of your child.

Most importantly, you cared because despite everything he had done to you, despite every lie he had told you, you still loved him, and his death would only destroy you.

But you were not about to let Judith know that.

“I don’t know,” you whispered as you turned away from her, your hand resting on your stomach, “I just do, I suppose.”

With a deep sigh, you turned around to face Judith, more determined than ever. “You may not believe me, Judith, but I know what I heard,” you said firmly, fists clenched at your sides, “Now, if you will not do anything to help me, I will find people who will.”

You kept your gaze on her when you finished speaking, waiting - hoping - for a response. If there was one thing that you and Judith should be able to come together on, it's Alfred’s safety. She held your gaze for one long moment, but eventually looked away, shaking her head in denial.

A defeated sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. You stood there for a moment, trying to come up with other ways to save Alfred’s life. Judith had been your one and only hope, and for a moment, it almost felt like all hope was lost. At least until you remembered that you were not alone in this Kingdom anymore.

“Fine,” you spat as you brushed past Judith and stormed out of the room, “I’ll save him myself.”

__________________________

After your heated conversation with Judith, you were in no mood to celebrate Aethelred. Unfortunately, the presence of the King and Queen was required at his wedding - even if he was trying to assassinate said King.

All eyes turned to you as you walked into the chapel and a feeling of deja vu washed over you. Alfred looked surprised when you walked up to stand with him – as if you had much choice in the matter. Standing anywhere else would only draw more attention than you wanted, and neither of you could afford to cause a divide this close to a battle.

You could feel his eyes on you as you took your place beside him, but you didn’t entertain it. Eventually he turned to face the altar.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you both sat, giving the rest of the room permission to do so as well.

You glanced at him for a second, a little surprised, but didn’t say a word. Not when you couldn’t tell whether he was being honest, or if he was simply trying to pull you back into his clutches.

And then the ceremony began.

Once again, you felt Alfred’s eyes on you as Aethelred and his bride recited their vows. The same ones the two of you had sworn to each other almost a year ago.

This time, when you turned to look at Alfred, you let your gaze linger. The nostalgia overwhelmed you as you felt yourself forgetting everything that had happened recently. All the lies, the secrets, the deception. For a moment, it was just you two, back where you were when you said those vows to each other. When you told the people that you were marrying for an alliance, while secretly being consumed with a blinding love for him.

And then you remembered that the love was only ever one sided. That the pretence was not for the people as you’d thought at the time, but for you. To keep you in line.

Suddenly, your eyes began to brim with tears, and you cursed this affliction that comes with pregnancy. You looked away from Alfred, not wanting to let him see you like this. Heartbroken over losing him.

You rose along with the guests as Aethelred and Ethelfled were pronounced husband and wife, and the couple exited the Church. You discreetly wiped your eyes as they did so, but not so discreet because Alfred caught it.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You turned away from him as you began leaving behind the couple, “I’m fine. Leave it.”

“But you’re crying,” he said as he followed you out, trying his best to keep a straight face to avoid alarming the other guests.

As soon as you were outside and away from prying eyes, you turned to face him fully, hands on your hips and a scowl on your lips.

“Do you see any tears on my cheeks?” you snapped.

Alfred was bewildered. “No, but I thought I saw–“ he stopped when you raised a brow, “In there, you and I, we– I thought we–“

“You thought wrong,” you cut him off, “You saw what you wanted to see. Whatever you felt in there, you alone felt. I watched your brother and his wife speak the same vows you and I swore to each other...and I didn’t feel a thing.”

He looked like the air had been knocked out of him, “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” you said, whispering it as if doing so would allow you to pretend you hadn’t said it.

His eyes travelled to the ground before turning to leave. He hesitated as he took a few steps away from you, but kept on walking.

You let out a breath as soon as he was out of view, clutching your chest in a futile attempt to numb the heartache. The words were painful to say, but at least now he could stop pretending that the damage hadn’t been done. You knew there was absolutely no way back. It was time he caught up.

“The two of you are fighting,” a voice came from behind you – Bjorn’s.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him, “And that makes you very happy, doesn’t it?”

Bjorn didn’t respond. Instead, he watched you carefully, tilting his head as he tried to read you. “What did he do?” he asked eventually.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“You are my sister, and your husband has upset you,” he said, “Of course it is my concern.”

You wanted to tell him everything, not caring if it would only prove his distrust of the Saxons right. You just needed your brother. But you had a duty as Queen to uphold, and now was not the time to cause a rift between your brothers and Alfred. They needed each other to defeat King Harald.

And no matter how angry you were right then, you certainly didn’t need your brothers committing treason by murdering Alfred for what he had done to you.

“Even married couples fight, Bjorn,” you said, “You should know. How many times have you been married now?”

He chuckled and shook his head, crossing his arms as he did so. “He must have done something terrible if you will not tell me,” he frowned as he brushed past you, “But don’t worry, I won’t ask again.”

__________________________

Ubbe had grown close to Alfred in the last few weeks, and you knew that it would not be difficult to ask for his help in stopping the planned assassination. The rest of your family - Bjorn to be specific - proved to be the real task. Still, you managed to bring them all to the dining hall just a few minutes before the War Council and ask for their help.

“So, you want us to help you stop these people?” Bjorn asked, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Why would we do that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and clenched your jaw. His amusement was making a mockery of the situation. “Need I remind you that without Alfred, your deal for the lands in East Anglia will never be upheld,” you said, “And without him we will all hang...At best.”

Bjorn rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He knew that you were right, and he hated it.

“Why can’t you tell your husband and allow his own men to protect him?” he asked, “Or are you still not speaking to him?”

Ubbe’s head snapped towards you. “You and Alfred are not speaking? What happened?”

You glared at Bjorn for exposing your marital troubles before letting out a heavy sigh, “It’s only a quarrel, nothing important.”

“I suppose it explains why you did not attend Ubbe’s baptism,” Torvi said as Bjorn rolled his eyes, “But it is strange that Alfred did not say anything about this to you, Ubbe.”

They began speculating amongst themselves, completely ignoring that you were standing right in front of them. You looked to Lagertha, pleading with your eyes to make them listen to you.

“I don’t think your sister called us here to discuss her marriage, do you?”

You gave her a small nod as they all turned their focus back on you. “I have said all that I need to say,” you said, “I need your help. Please.”

You watched as all four of them - Bjorn, Lagertha, Ubbe and Torvi, shared a look between themselves, and let out a sigh of relief when Bjorn nodded.

“But after this is done, I want all of us to meet back here,” Bjorn said, his eyes on you.

“What about?”

“It is a family matter,” he said as he stood up from the table he was leaning on and walked past you to the door, “I will see you after the meeting.”

__________________________

Being a protector had always been a part of your identity. As a child, you protected Ivar from the other children who couldn’t understand why he was different. After your father left, you protected your mother from the enemies who seemed to come from all sides. And now, here you were again, surrounded by enemies and desperate to protect your unborn child and her father from those that wished to harm them.

You glanced at Alfred standing beside you, blissfully unaware of the danger he was in. Judith stood on the other side of him, looking almost as anxious as you felt. She knew that if there was to be an attack, it would be today. It was clear that a part of her was simply in denial. You could tell by her pale face and anxious eyes that she was on edge.

The sound of Alfred addressing the crowd seemed to fade into the background as you scanned the crowd for Aethelred. Before long, you caught sight of Cyneheard whispering something to a fidgety Aethelred. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the glint of the daggers hidden in their robes, ready to attack.

As you looked around, trying to find either of your brothers in the crowd, you noticed how strange most of the men were behaving. They kept glancing quickly between Aethelred and Alfred, hands hidden in their robes, no doubt gripping weapons. They were waiting for something.

Finally, you spotted Bjorn in the corner of the room and gave a subtle nod towards Cyneheard who now had a firm grip on Aethelred’s forearm as he whispered harshly into his ear. He began making his way towards the pair, his hand resting on the hilt of his axe.

Cyneheard continued to whisper into Aethelred’s ear. That was what they were waiting for - Aethelred. But the man they had put their faith in was hesitating. From where you stood, he looked pale and sweaty. He was breathing hard, averting his eyes quickly when he caught you staring.

For a moment, you wondered if he could actually do it. He might harbour negative feelings towards Alfred, but killing your only brother is easier said than done.

You discreetly raised a hand to Bjorn, asking him to wait as you watched Aethelred shuffle from foot to foot nervously. He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.

Finally, he whispered something back to Cyneheard, which enraged the older man and caused him to spit something back in reply and back away slowly. They had lost.

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips. But that relief was short lived when you heard what Alfred was currently announcing to the room.

“I am thankful to all of you, and to God, for allowing me to lead you into battle,” he said, “I know that I have the support of my beloved brother Aethelred, and of Ubbe, Bjorn and Lagertha.”

He turned to look at you earnestly, “And my wife, Y/N, who will be there by my side...as she has been from the start.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watched him. How could he say something so foolish? He would only get himself killed. You were fighting to save his life, only for him to endanger it on his own. The irony was not lost on you.

As Alfred concluded his address, you stood speechless and watched him leave the throne room with his guards. Judith approached you, anger evident in her eyes.

“I knew you were lying,” she spat through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Then why was there no attack?”

She waited for a response or explanation – neither of which you had to offer. When she realised that, she turned and left in a huff, relieved that the ordeal was over.

You, on the other hand, knew that it was not. Although you wanted to rush after Alfred and convince him not to join the fight, there was someone more important that you needed to confront.

__________________________

It had been a while since you had pressed a dagger against someone’s throat.

You had missed the feeling.

After the War Council, you followed Aethelred and ambushed him just outside his study. There was a short struggle - one that ended with him pushed up against his bookcase with the sharp end of a dagger aimed at his jugular.

“Tell me, Aethelred,” you whispered, “Have you ever seen me angry?”

“I've seen you in battle,” he grunted as he tried to move his neck away from the blade, “It’s nothing special.”

You chuckled lowly and tilted your head to the side.��“In battle? That is me at my most calm,” you said, “The only time I get angry – blinded with rage, really – is when someone threatens my family. Just ask King Aelle.”

Aethelred looked down at you, his expression wavering. “What do you want?”

“A confession.”

“A confession? I have not done anything.”

You pushed the blade against his neck, nicking the skin and drawing blood, making Aethelred freeze in place. “You conspired to murder Alfred and take his place as King.”

“I did no such thing!”

“I saw you,” you said, “You and your friends. Lord Cyneheard? Is he your second-in-command?”

He looked away from you guiltily.

“I listened at the door of your secret meeting place,” you continued, “And I heard you plan to murder Alfred today at the War Council, so don’t lie to me.”

Silence as his gaze dropped to the floor. His whole body deflated, arms falling to his sides as he stopped fighting you.

“I did it. I conspired to overthrow my King,” he murmured almost to himself, his brows knitting together, “I tried to murder my own brother.”

You faltered.

You had not expected it to be that easy. That he would admit it without much hassle. And most shockingly, he looked ashamed.

Slowly, you dropped the dagger from his neck and stepped back a little, eyeing him cautiously. “Why did you do it?”

He shook his head, his eyes still on the ground. “It wasn’t my intention for it to go this far,” he muttered, “I was angry after my mother forced me to give up the Crown to Alfred. And, yes, I envied all that he came to be. All that he came to have.”

“The more people accepted him, the more I burned with rage,” he said, his eyes raising to meet yours, “He had taken everything that was rightfully mine and I was left with nothing. Not even our mother looked at me with anything more than disdain.”

You looked away when you caught yourself empathising with him. Sigurd had felt the exact same way about your mother and Ivar. And deep down, there was a part of you that had felt that way at some point too.

“Why you?” you asked, stepping forward, "Why did they choose his own brother to replace him?"

"I have royal blood, the right wife, and most importantly, the correct allegiance," he spoke frankly, "They knew that I would rule like my father did, and that in my hands, Wessex would always come first."

"Wessex has always come first with Alfred."

“They do not see it that way,” Aethelred said, “Alfred was making too many changes in the Church. He offered land to our enemies, and even worse, married a heathen.”

You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. “Was that not always the plan? For Alfred to marry me, have a child that is part Viking and use us to broker peace?”

“It was, originally,” he confessed, “We’d expected you to be with child shortly after the wedding, but it never happened. And then your brothers arrived and you were no longer needed.”

“So what changed?”

“Alfred did,” he said as he moved across the room, “He refused to be rid of you. We'd thought we were the ones deceiving you, but the whole time, Alfred was deceiving us.”

What did that even mean?

“What changed your mind, then?” you asked and stepped closer to him, “Why not take what you wanted? You could have killed him, killed my brothers and I, and taken the throne for yourself.”

His gaze faltered as he looked away from you and walked towards his desk, leaning forward against it, his knuckles pressing down hard on the wood.

“Alfred did,” he whispered almost to himself, “Even without knowing that I had betrayed him, he was somehow able to remind me of the sacred bond between brothers. After speaking with him today…I have never been more disgusted by myself. By the fact that I ever entertained the idea of harming him in any way.”

He turned to face you. “I will never forgive myself for the part that I played in this treasonous act. And I swear to you on my life that I will never betray my brother again."

You didn’t say anything to comfort or reassure him. As far as you were concerned, he deserved to stew in his shame. But you couldn't ignore the sincerity in his tone.

"I told your mother about my suspicions and your plans," you said, eyeing him as a horrified look descended upon his face, "She didn't believe me."

The wave of relief that washed over Aethelred was clear to see, but it only enraged you. How could he escape justice after all that he had done? Were you just supposed to pretend like none of it had happened? Did Alfred not have a right to know that his brother tried to kill him?

"Judith may not have believed me, but Alfred will."

His eyes bulged out of his head as the vein in his forehead began to pulse. He was panicking. Good. You wanted him to feel a fraction of the fear that you felt when you found out about his plans.

"Please. You cannot tell him," he managed to splutter as he stepped closer to you.

You simply eyed him with contempt as he pleaded with you, "Alfred deserves to know what kind of man his brother is."

"Do it for his own sake," he said, "Knowing this will crush him, and he needs to be focused on the coming battle."

Aethelred waited with baited breath as you mulled it over. He was trying to manipulate you, and you knew it. Still, he had a point.

"I'm not so foolish as to believe that anything you say or do is for Alfred's benefit," you spoke curtly, "But one thing is true: Alfred loves you, and I will not be the one to break his heart by telling him about you."

Yet another breath of relief escaped his lips. He bent down against the desk taking in deep breaths and mumbling some sentiment of gratitude.

You couldn't stand the sight of his pathetic self anymore, and with a huff, made a move to leave the study. But you couldn't go without delivering one final warning.

"If I ever suspect that you plan to do something to so much as undermine Alfred, I will hack the bones in your back and carve out your lungs while you still breathe."

__________________________

Even though you were late to Bjorn's meeting, you had not missed much. Bjorn had introduced a man who claimed to be Ragnar's son and had a grudge against Alfred. Arguments ensued.

Somewhere amongst the aggression, you heard someone call your name.

"Y/N," Ubbe nudged you with his shoulder, "You've been quiet. What do you think about this?"

You trained your eyes on your alleged brother. Magnus. He kept glancing at Bjorn out of the corner of his eyes, clearly uncomfortable under your scrutinizing gaze.

Slowly, you stood from your chair and approached him. He held his breath as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"You don't look like us," you observed.

"That hardly proves anything," he scoffed, "You don't look like your brothers either. Nor Ragnar"

"Of course not, I look like my grandmother," you glanced over your shoulder at your brothers, "Bjorn and Ubbe look like Ragnar."

You were quiet again as you continued to stare, this time not just examining his physical appearance, but his story too. None of it made any sense.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to face your brothers with a shrug. "I don't believe him either," you finally said, agreeing with Ubbe and Lagertha.

Magnus suddenly exploded. "How can you say that to me?! After all I've been through to find all of you?"

Bjorn held up a hand to silence him. "Why don't you believe him?" he asked.

"His story does not match Ragnar's. Or anything Ragnar would say or do," you said, "Our father would never say that he loves you. I was his daughter and he was barely able to say those words to me. And if he truly claimed you as his son, he would have told Ivar, so that he could tell us."

"Maybe Ivar kept it from us," Bjorn suggested.

"He wouldn't have kept it from me," you said, then turned to Magnus, "You may very well be Viking, but you are not our brother, Magnus."

His body visibly shook with anger as his face went red and his clenched fists turned white. But instead of unloading all his frustrations on you, he stormed out of the room, muttering incoherently to himself.

Bjorn glared at all of you before standing to leave without a word.

"Bjorn," you called out to him before he left, "Don't believe anything he says. Not about Ragnar, and not about Alfred."

__________________________

Ubbe had a plan – a good plan.

Despite this, you remained anxious. The army was riding out in a day, and you couldn't help but feel unprepared.

You'd decided to visit the battlefield to make sure everything was in order. So far everything seemed to be that way, except for one thing.

"Edwin!" you called for your Second who came running to your side, "We need at least three more catapults on the left."

"Yes, Commander," he nodded and rushed off to carry out your order.

Suddenly, the sound of grunting and swords clashing came from behind you. You swiftly turned around, hand on your axe ready to be drawn, only to find Ubbe sparring with Alfred. You would have intervened, but Alfred seemed to be holding his own against your brother, a sight that was surprising to witness.

Alfred smiled when he successfully defended himself against Ubbe's attacks, a smile which faltered when he spotted you standing just a few feet away. You quickly looked away and pretended to examine the catapult. He approached you before long, but chose not to speak as he stood beside you.

"I did not know you would be here," you said, refusing to look at him.

"Ubbe thought I should familiarise myself with where we will be fighting soon."

You sighed and closed your eyes when you remembered the stupid decision Alfred had made to participate in this battle. At least you still had some time to talk him out of doing something so life endangering and foolish.

"Actually, I'm glad you are here," you cleared your throat and looked up at him, "I wanted to speak to you about something."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, “What do you need to speak to me abou–”

“You cannot lead the army,” you cut him off sharply.

“What?”

“You heard me,” you jutted out your chin and folded your arms, “You cannot lead the army, Alfred, you can barely fight.”

“I can fight,” he retorted, “I have been training with Ubbe for months now.”

You scoffed in response, “A few sparring sessions with my brother and you think you are ready to fight a Viking army led by King Harald?”

“Yes.”

You let out a frustrated sigh and buried your face in your hands. Why was he being so stubborn? Especially when you were trying to save his life.

“I am only trying to protect you,” you whispered harshly.

He chuckled softly and cocked his head to the side, “I remember trying to do the same for you only a short while ago.”

“That is not the same."

“Is it not?” he asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh when you didn’t speak. “It is my duty to lead the army,” he said, willing you to understand, “How can I expect my men to fight for this Kingdom, if I will not fight for them?”

You shook your head swallowed the lump in your throat, “You have nothing to prove.”

“Yes. I do.”

“You could die,” your voice cracked as you spoke. You turned away to avoid his gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you still cared.

“I know,” he said and sucked in a deep breath, “Which is why you need to know the truth.”

“Gods,” you rolled your eyes and began to walk away, "I have heard all that I need to hear.”

"No, you haven't," he grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him rather roughly, “Why won't you just let me explain?”

You snatched your arm back. "Because I know what you are going to say," you said, "That you are sorry for lying to me, and that even though it started with deception, you truly do love me now. I know. But it does not change the fact that you have hurt me deeply. Your explanation is not good enough."

"I-," he began in a soft voice, "I am so sorry, Y/N."

You blinked back the tears brimming in your eyes and whispered, "It's not good enough, Alfred."

__________________________

The day had come to ride out to battle and neither you nor Alfred had taken the other's advice and chosen to stay back. Judith said her farewells to her sons then, for some reason, decided to escort you out to your horse.

"What was the name you gave, when you came to me about Aethelred?" she asked out of the blue.

Your brows furrowed, "Cyneheard?"

"I thought so," she said, her voice eerily calm as she looked straight ahead, "I know I was a bit dismissive with you, but I assure you, I will do everything I can to get to the bottom of this matter."

You both came to a stop when you arrived at your horse. "What does that mean?" you asked as you turned to her.

"Never you mind," she said as you climbed onto your horse, "I trust you will keep Alfred safe on the field?"

"Of course."

She cracked a smile and walked away to stand with Aethelred's wife. You tried to forget the conversation, but you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was about to happen.

You waited as Alfred approached and climbed onto his horse next to you. He didn't say a word, his eyes instead scanning the crowd before finally settling on one man.

"My Lord Cyneheard," he said, his voice just as calm as his mother's.

"Yes, Sire?"

"You will not be leaving with us today," he continued.

You turned to Aethelred with furrowed brows and noticed just how alarmed he looked.

"Why not?" Cyneheard asked, guilt evident just from his tone.

"Because you are arrested. For treason."

A tiny gasp escaped your lips at Alfred's command. Your head snapped towards Judith as Cyneheard was pulled off his horse and dragged through the mud into the Villa. She simply gave a smirk and a grateful nod before turning to go back inside.

You were still in a daze as you rode out of the compound, shocked by what had just happened, and by the feeling of unease that Judith had managed to spark in you.

__________________________

The army had temporarily set up camp as you waited for Ubbe to return from King Harald. He needed to buy enough time for your army to travel around King Harald's if you were to ensure that the battle would be fought on the grounds you had chosen. He would be back soon so you returned to your tent to put your armour on.

The bustling of the men outside served as a reminder of what was coming. You sat glued to a chair as you imagined all the ways this day could go wrong. All the people you could lose.

You thought of your baby, and what would happen to her if you hit the ground too hard, or if you were struck in the wrong place. The mere thought of losing her devastated you, and you knew it would crush Alfred. He would never forgive you.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

It was him now. You could just make out his silhouette through the thin fabric of the tent. Slowly, you pulled on your boots and walked to the front of the tent, hesitant to let him in.

“Y/N...I can see you.”

You sighed and placed your hands on your hips. It wasn’t about him, you were just afraid that talking to him would end in vomiting or tears, and you could do without either today.

“Come in,” you said, opening the flap and stepping aside to let him pass.

He ducked his head as he walked in, looking like a giant in your low tent. He stopped in front of you, eyeing your form as he thought of the right words to say.

“I have been worried about you,” he looked at you earnestly, “I haven’t slept.”

He wasn’t lying, and the sentiment warmed your heart.

“I have been worried too,” you replied, “Every time I close my eyes, I think about everything that could go wrong.”

"You have been in this situation more times than I," he said, "Is it normal to feel this way?"

"I suppose. But there is something about today..." you sighed as you looked into his eyes, "It feels like there is more at stake."

He held your gaze for a moment as you both stood in a comfortable silence. Until you realised that it had lingered too long and he was standing a bit too close. You looked away quickly and cleared your throat as you stepped back.

"Why did you come here, Alfred?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression suddenly descending on his features.

"We could die today," he said, "And I needed to see you...and to speak to you-"

"Alfred," you cut him off and turned to grab your sword belt and axe, "You and I are not going to have this conversation today of all days."

"I know, I just," he stopped, searching for the right words, "Before we go out there, I just need to know that you don't hate me."

You raised your gaze to look at him, and your heart sank when you realised just how heartbroken and bereft he was. Suddenly, all the fight, all the anger, was gone, and all that was left was sorrow and an aching heart.

“I could never hate you, Alfred,” you whispered, a hint of shock in your voice at the possibility that he would ever think that.

He perked up at your words, asking, “You don’t?”

“I don’t,” you said, then let out a bitter chuckle, “I have wanted to. And, believe me, I have tried. It would be easier.”

A long stretch of silence followed, neither of you knowing how to go on. Even though you loved him, you didn’t know when — or if — you could ever forgive him.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” Alfred sighed, “Believing that you hated me had a sense of finality, but now…our future seems uncertain.”

You simply shrugged and looked down to secure your axe on its holster, “It always has been.”

“Not to me.”

You flicked your eyes up at him to find him gazing intently at you. He loved you. Deep down you knew it.

A part of you wanted to trust him again. A part of was searching for a reason to forgive him. Why couldn’t you just take that first step?

When you didn’t reply, Alfred let out a short breath and turned to leave the tent.

“Wait.”

He froze in his steps and quickly turned around.

You sucked in a sharp breath. "If you loved me – if you truly loved me – why did you convince your advisors that you were only marrying me to produce a Viking heir?" you asked, "You were already the King, you didn't have to. And why didn't you tell me of your plans."

"What was it you said to me once?" he said, cracking a smile, "As King, I can do whatever I want. But it also means that I cannot do whatever I want."

You remembered saying the words to him, and couldn't believe he did too.

"As for not telling you," he continued, "I foolishly thought that I was sparing you. I realise now how wrong I was."

"You should have moved on after I left, married a lovely Princess," an exasperated sigh left your lips as ran a hand through your hair, "We could have saved ourselves from all of this. Why didn't you?"

"Is it not obvious?" he asked, "I met you, I fell in love with you, and then I couldn't live without you."

You didn't know if you believed him, but you were certain that your heart had skipped a beat.

__________________________

It was time.

All the planning, the scheming, and forged alliances had led to this battle.

Atop your horse and staring down King Harald's army, for a moment, none of it seemed real. Your head was still in that tent, going over what Alfred had said again and again.

You glanced at him, proudly sitting on his own horse beside you. He had never looked more like a King – a true leader of his people. Broad shoulders, stern expression, and motivational words. But only you could see the way his lip quivered when he spoke, and the way his hands shook as he held onto the reins.

"Are you afraid too?" you asked and he turned to look at you. He hesitated before answering.

"Yes."

Slowly, you reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as you did so. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up at you. You held his gaze and squeezed his hand. No words needed to be said. You both knew what it meant.

__________________________

The battle had raged on for what felt like an eternity, and things were not looking good for your side. You had chosen to stay behind and command the archers in an effort to protect your child, but now...

With a grunt, you jumped off your horse and spoke to the soldier beside you, "You have command."

"All of you, with me now," you yelled the order to all the soldiers on your right before charging into battle.

Within minutes of being in the thick of it, you lost count of how many men you had taken down. It was like your body was acting on its own, slaughtering people who were once your fellow countrymen like they were nothing but cattle.

You came up behind a shield maiden who was attacking one of your soldiers and slit her throat. As her body slumped against yours, you spotted Alfred out of the corner of your eye locked in his own battle with a man twice his size. He would never make it out of that alive. Not on his own.

Without a second thought, you threw the body aside and started to run, expertly dodging every sword and axe thrown in your direction. You could see Alfred's face as the weight of his opponent's sword bore down on his shield. He knew he couldn't defeat this man. You willed your legs to run faster.

The next few seconds felt like time slowed down. Your heart sank into your stomach as you realised you wouldn't make it to Alfred. The regret of all the things you wished you had said to him in that tent hit you like a ton of bricks.

You heard yourself scream as the man raised his sword to deliver a final blow. Just as he did, an axe came flying out of nowhere and buried itself deep in his skull.

Aethelred stood just a few feet away, breathing heavily as the man sunk to the floor and a pool of blood gathered around his head. He walked over and dislodged the axe from where it was embedded, then to Alfred to whom he offered a hand.

You froze as you looked on in shock, surprised by Alfred's saviour, but more grateful than you had ever been in your entire life. It was only a moment's hesitation, but you knew you had made a grave mistake the second you felt it.

An arrow in your thigh.

You didn't realise when a strangled cry tore through your throat as you fell to your knees. It sounded like it had come out of someone else's lips. The blood gushed out of you even as you pressed your hand to the wound.

And then a second arrow.

This time, you felt the pain everywhere and you couldn't be sure where you'd been hit. All you could see was an arrow head protruding from your torso, and the excruciating pain that came with it. It was too much to even attempt to scream.

As you collapsed to the ground, struggling to stay awake – to stay alive – the clashing of swords and cries of dying men all faded to the background. You could only hear one thing. Echoes of the same sentence repeated over and over again.

"The Queen has fallen!"

***

Well this was a long time coming, huh? Thank you to all these lovely supporters! I'm sorry this took forever ❤️

@shelbi-percifull, @florenceivy, @cbouvier23, @icylodge, @simvez, @squirrelacorngliterfarts, @writingeverynowand-then, @fromforeigntofamiliarity, @studyingthemind, @fuckthatfeeling, @brooklynalpha, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @deficilimbecile, @paarachvtes, @xbergiex, @olamishamigo, @xinyourdreamsx, @camu-winchester, @feyrearcheron44, @alpha-pac, @candyheartsandcigarettes, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @ok-roemanov, @ajxlawley, @soleil-dor, @xbellaxcarolinax, @bababasti, @astridbaby, @severewobblerlightdragon, @luvmeijii, @allyly

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

Hvítr gown, nýr life (Ubbe x Reader)

This is my contribution to @geekandbooknerd 2k followers challenge! Congrats again, my dear!

My prompt was: "People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." - Cassandra Clare, City of Glass.

Couple notes for this fic- Bjorn & Torvi are still together because reasons. Italics mean speakers are using Old Norse.

The title means ‘White Gown, New Life’ in Old Norse.

Also, this is my first time writing Ubbe so.... hopefully its not OOC?

Words: 4800

Warnings: one or two swear words. implied sex. I think that’s it???

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

"You cannot truly be considering this!" Bjorn thundered in the small, enclosed room.

Ubbe observed his elder brother- a man he had aspired to be like his whole childhood, a man he still looked up too, regardless of his faults. "Of course I am."

Bjorn slammed his hand on the wooden table, making it shake, as his voice shook like thunder in the room. "You are throwing your future away!"

"I am protecting our future!" Ubbe snapped, finally rising to his feet, irritation leaking into his tone. He met Bjorn's incensed blue eyes with his own resolute gaze. "We need allies, alliances, everything to make father's dream come true. If this is the price I must pay to fulfill Ragnar's dream, then I will gladly do it. It is not about me. It's for our people."

After a long, tense moment, Lagertha pushed off the wall she and Torvi were leaning against. Gliding closer, she moved to stand in front of Ubbe, tears swimming in her eyes. Gently, she cupped his cheeks. "Your father would be so proud of you, Ubbe. I pray the gods bless you with happiness in this."

"Thank you, Lagertha." Relief swelled in Ubbe's chest. If he had Lagertha's support, he knew Bjorn would come around.

Since they fled Kattegat and came to England, he had watched the shieldmaiden age before his eyes. He could not help but wonder if her soul yearned for Valhalla and to be reunited with Ragnar. Not that he could blame her. To hear her speak of Ragnar and his approval of Ubbe's actions, it only further solidified his choice.

Torvi spoke up, surprising him. "I think Ubbe should do it." When Bjorn opened his mouth to interject, she snapped her gaze over to her husband. "This is his decision, Ubbe. He has asked for our advice but it is up to him. We need security and this, though we don't trust them, this can provide that security."

Bjorn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine! Do what you want!"

"Thank you." Ubbe softly said, looking at all the family he had left in this world. "I'll go inform King Alfred now."

With a firm stride, he left the quarters they had been given in Wessex. After some time trying to locate the young king, a passing servant was able to tell him Alfred's location. Thankfully the king was in his private study, reviewing petitions from the worker's guild. The guards at the door allowed Ubbe entrance only after the king called out to allow him entrance. With a look of unrestrained animosity, almost begging him to give them a reason to throw him out, the guards opened the door for him to pass. Ubbe nodded his thanks, but never removed his hand from the sword at his side until the door closed behind him.

Straightening in his chair, Alfred looked up from the papers spread out over his desk. "Good afternoon, Ubbe. I suspect you have sought me out because you have an answer for my proposition."

"I do, your highness." Ubbe paused, knowing how his life was going to irrevocably change once he answered. "And I will accept. I will take a Saxon wife to further the alliance between us."

"I am greatly pleased by your decision." The dark-haired man pushed away from his desk. He moved to a nearby table to pour them both a cup of wine, something these Saxons seemed to favor, as he continued speaking. "Alliances must be built on trust and understanding. A political marriage certainly helps solidify that trust."

Ubbe received the cup, missing the taste of ale from his homeland. After taking a small sip, he stared at Alfred. "So what do we do now? Do I meet some potentials or is there a matchmaker?"

"No, I already have someone picked out for you. My cousin." Alfred answered without hesitation before pausing in contemplation. "What your father and my grandfather would think of this arrangement….our families tied by blood."

"Yeah…. What is her name?"

"My cousin? Lady Y/N. Fear not, she comes from a well-respected family and with a substantial dowry. She has spent most of her life at a nunnery, so there is no fear of her virtue being tainted."

"Great." Ubbe sighed out. Though he knew Alfred meant all that to be reassuring….it felt anything but.

*****

It was not until almost a month later, Ubbe met his intended bride; with the wedding set for three days after her arrival. Apparently King Alfred and some of the Saxon noblemen were keen on the arranged marriage happening as soon as possible.

Ubbe stood off to the side in the throne room. With his hair freshly braided and pulled back and wearing one of his nicer tunics, he hoped he appeared princely. Even if by Saxon standards, he knew he fell woefully short. Lagertha had given him a nod of approval as they waited in the throne room. Though outwardly he kept his face passive and calm, his insides twisted into knots and his hands were clammy.

"Are you still certain about this, brother?" Bjorn clapped Ubbe on the shoulder as he whispered, eyeing the Saxons standing around.

The flaxen-haired Viking glanced over at King Alfred, who sat on his throne, talking in hushed tones to one of his advisors while his mother looked on with a sour expression.

Ubbe answered solemnly. "Aye, we need this alliance."

With a grunt, Bjorn removed his hand but stayed at his brother's side. Something Ubbe appreciated. Although Bjorn had no issue airing his thoughts on this foolish alliance and how Ubbe was making a mistake in regards to choosing a wife again, he kept his complaints behind closed doors. In front of the Saxons, they presented an united front.

The large doors to the throne room opened with a groan. All eyes turned to witness as a sole figure cautiously yet gracefully walked forward, head held high and hands clasped in front of her.

"Cousin!" King Alfred exclaimed, rising from his throne, arms spread wide. Immediately, he descended the few stairs with a fond smile on his face. "Your presence has been missed here at court."

The woman dipped into an elegant curtsey, her dress gliding around her like water. "You are far too kind, my king."

As King Alfred embraced his cousin in a warm hug, Ubbe could only stare in shock. Standing there in a deep red gown, the woman looked like a goddess. Ubbe had prepared himself mentally for his intended bride to be marginally pretty like most of these Saxon women, but someone he easily overlooked. Not her though. Without even saying a word to him, he felt beguiled by her. It was more than just her physical beauty, it was in the way she carried herself, with grace and a nobility. It reminded him distantly of his mother. A woman who knew her place and dignity. This woman, his intended bride, was truly stunning. He could not help but wonder if the true reason for her prolonged residence at a nunnery was not because of piety but to preserve and protect her. Something he was suddenly immensely grateful for.

"This is your betrothed." Alfred walked her over to where the Vikings stood, at the bottom of the steps leading to his throne. With a pleased smile on his face, he introduced the two. "Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, this is my cousin, Lady Y/N."

She curtsied to him, her movements so graceful like they were part of a dance. When she spoke, he was further enchanted, for even her voice was beautiful. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ubbe."

"It's just Ubbe. Since we are to be married, we can skip the formalities."

A coy smile played on her lips. "As you wish….Ubbe."

"Excellent." King Alfred beamed. "Perhaps a walk in the gardens to better acquaint yourselves would be desirable?"

Before Ubbe could whole-heartedly agree, wishing to learn more about his intended bride, a sickly-sweet voice interrupted.

"Y/N has only just arrived. We have wedding plans to finalize and she must try on her dress." Princess Judith interrupted, wrapping an arm through her niece's while pointedly ignoring the Vikings. "Maybe another time, but I am sure y/n will be quite busy with preparations. Come, my dear."

With that, she swept her niece out of the throne room as if the Vikings had the plague and she refused to breathe the same air as them. But before y/n disappeared, she peeked over her shoulder and met Ubbe's gaze with a tender smile teasing her lips, then disappeared from view.

"There is much to finalize and my mother wants to ensure the wedding will go smoothly. You and y/n will have time after the wedding to become acquainted." Alfred said, studying the direction his mother and cousin vanished. With a sigh, he pulled his gaze back to Ubbe. "Now that introductions are made, I have matters with the clergy to attend to."

Ubbe barely paid attention when Alfred walked away, returning to his throne and listening to some priests whine about something petty.

A bump of a shoulder against his own drew Ubbe's attention back from thinking about y/n.

Bjorn leaned over to whisper conspiracingly in his ear. "Well, at least you won't have a problem bedding her."

*****

The wedding ceremony was outlandish and dragged on for entirely too long. Between the many prayers of the priests and the rigid formality of everything, Ubbe was ready to draw his sword and spill some Christian blood, just to break up the monotony. Even Lagertha appeared ready to fall asleep from where she stood.

The only aspect that kept his attention was his bride. Watching her walk down the aisle, he almost swallowed his tongue, leaving him gaping at her in a slack-jawed awe as she slowly approached. In her flowing wedding dress, a crown of flowers in her hair and eyes alight, she appeared ethereal. Standing in his nicest tunic and pants, he knew he paled in comparison to her, but he did not mind.

When the priests tried to forcefully convince Ubbe to dress in Saxon clothing for the wedding, he not-so-subtly threatened to decapitate them if they mentioned it once more. He was a Viking and would dress as such. Besides this was to be a physical representation of an alliance between Saxon and Viking, it would make no sense for him to dress as a Saxon.

Thankfully Alfred agreed with his thoughts, so the clergy kept any further comments to themselves.

Once the wedding concluded with Ubbe and y/n proclaimed man and wife, the couple was escorted to the celebration. The following feast was beyond lavish, with drink and food in overflowing abundance. To his dismay, Ubbe found himself unable to converse with his new bride. Either Alfred was introducing him to someone new, some nobleman pestered him with questions or worst of all, Judith purposefully continued to make excuses that pulled y/n away. When their eyes met, he could see the apology in them, which lightened the stone in his heart.

As the feast progressed, Ubbe found as more time passed, the more his gaze drifted to his bride. The gods had truly blessed him with this marriage. Watching her, he was captivated. Although, he found his hand frequently shifting to reach for the hilt of his sword no longer strapped to his side. All the appreciative or lustful looks she received from other men did not go unnoticed, and if one of them tried to lay a hand on his new wife, he would not be held accountable for his actions. His fists could be just as deadly as any weapon.

Finally, the time was called for the bedding ceremony.

Alfred and some of the clergy explained to Ubbe what happened during a bedding ceremony when he was learning about the wedding's customs and the vows he would have to recite. To say the Ragnarsson was shocked was an understatement. It sounded barbaric…. and him and his people were called the heathens. But he understood the need to maintain protocol for building the alliance and the trust of the Saxons.

So that was how he found himself walking down a corridor with Bjorn at his side, while the feast and celebrations continued on without him.

"Are you sure about this?"

Ubbe rolled his eyes at his elder brother, his stride never faltering. "You did not have to agree to it."

Bjorn scoffed, keeping pace. "And miss out on all the fun?"

The two brothers laughed, the sound loosening some of the tension in the bridegroom's body. When Alfred told Ubbe he needed a witness to represent his people at the bedding ceremony, Bjorn was the only option. When Ubbe initially told his brother about the tradition and asked for Bjorn's presence, the hulking Viking had doubled-over in laughter, followed by making several crude comments about the need to instruct Ubbe on how to properly bed a woman. The discussion ended in a brotherly tussel but Bjorn agreed.

Especially when Ubbe explained his plan.

The bedroom was in the wing of the royal families' rooms. Since y/n was related by blood, she was given a room there whenever she came to visit and naturally, this meant it was where the marriage would be consummated. Several candles were lit but the bedroom was kept dim to give an illusion of privacy. A quick glance at the bed made Ubbe raise an eyebrow at the generous size and the curtains draped around it. A fire burned in the fireplace providing warmth in the bedroom, a sharp contrast to the stern, cold faces of the clergy who waited.

The bishop who married them stood off to the side with two other clergy, all in their robes and barely suppressed looks of disgust on the priests' faces. Two female attendees fussed over y/n, clearly everyone waiting for Ubbe and Bjorn. Once again, Ubbe had to force himself to keep his eyes from staying glued to his new wife. She stood there in a thick robe, with her hair falling about her shoulders loosely, free from the bridal veil. Her gaze jumped from Ubbe to the clergy and back as she nibbled on her bottom lip, clearly nervous about what was to occur next. Cheekily, he sent her a quick wink, hoping that would help settle her nerves. If the blush that grew on her cheeks said anything, at least she was not repulsed by him.

The bishop stepped forward. "Are you prepared to consummate your marriage to Lady Y/N before God and man?"

"I am." Ubbe defiantly met the man's eyes.

"Then by the power given to me by the Holy Church, let the two become one in the sight of God and these witnesses and the marriage shall be complete." With that, the man drew their strange cross sign in the air and stepped back to rejoin his fellow clergy.

The two attendees helped y/n out of her heavy robe, revealing a thin, white nightgown that seemed to only enhance her beauty and innocence. Desire thrummed in his blood at the sight of her, but Ubbe ignored the sensation for the moment. The heavy robe was laid on a nearby chair and the two women left the room with a quick curtsy, leaving only the men and y/n.

After a shared look with Bjorn, Ubbe walked over to his new bride, keeping his movements slow so as to not startle her. Her hands were clasped before her, but even as he approached, he could see the faint tremble in them. Her gaze never strayed from the floor. The confidence seen previously in her seemed to have melted away into anxiety, making him think of a skittish colt. He could not help but wonder what changed, if it was due to him or what was supposed to occur between them.

Standing before her, he gently reached out to take her soft hands in his own larger, calloused ones, pleased when she did not flinch at his touch. Although her gaze remained downward.

"Are you alright?" He whispered, aware of the four pairs of eyes watching their every move.

"Of….of course, my lord husband."

"Remember, I told you to call me by my name."

That caused her head to snap up and meet his gaze. Now he could see the tears welling up in her eyes and her swollen bottom lip from constantly worrying it.

"It'll be alright." He tugged her bottom lip from between her teeth. The way her breath hitched at the intimate touch made his heart pound. He gave her hands in his, a quick squeeze. "Trust me, yeah?"

After a moment, she gave a faint nod, still eyeing him warily but appearing less like she wanted to flee, mutely squeezing his hands back.

A voice broke the stillness in the room, immediately causing her to tense again.

"The two of you must proceed to the bed to finalize the union. We do not have all night to wait for confirmation of her virginity and consummation." One of the priests drawled with an apparent undertone of disdain.

"Then it is a good thing you don't have to wait any longer." Ubbe retorted, narrowing his eyes at the priest. The man huffed but a quiet rebuke from the bishop had the priest pressing his lips together. With one final, assessing scan, the flaxen-haired Viking shifted, pulling his new bride into his side and wrapping an arm around her waist. He felt her tense against him but ignored it to stare at the three clergy with a mocking smirk. "Bjorn."

At the sound of his name, his brother moved from leaning against the doorframe. A scowl on his face, and with the shadows cast over him, made him appear more looming and menacing. "Everybody out."

The three clergy looked back and forth between the two Viking brothers, clearly confused and intimidated.

"You can't….we must witness…."

"I SAID EVERYBODY OUT!" Bjorn roared, pulling the axe from his side and waving it in the air. "OR DO I NEED TO SPLIT YOUR SKULL TO HELP MY WORDS REACH YOUR TINY BRAINS?!"

The three scrambled, eyes wide in terror, tripping over their long robes in a pathetic attempt to reach the door faster. The bishop turned around, hands grasping the golden cross hanging from his neck. "King….King Alfred will hear of this." He stuttered out in feigned confidence.

A deafening war cry from Bjorn practically shook the room in answer. That was enough to silence the bishop and have him flee, following his companions.

At Bjorn's roar, y/n began shaking like a leaf, her hands tightly holding onto Ubbe's arm wrapped around her. He further pulled her against him, providing shelter from his brother's fury. Even as the room fell back into silence, he could still feel her trembling in his arms. He prayed to the gods that this did not darken her view of him and cause her to fear him.

Once the room cleared and the pounding footfalls of the clergy could no longer be heard, Bjorn turned around with a grin, scratching the back of his neck with his axe. "You know Alfred will be upset when he finds out."

Ubbe smirked. "We can't let him have everything he wants, yeah?"

That made Bjorn chuckle. "I'll go guard the door." He pointed his axe at Ubbe, still grinning. "You owe me for this."

"Scaring priests shitless isn't enough for you?"

Bjorn scoffed. "I can do that whenever I like."

"We'll name our firstborn after you."

Bjorn waved him off, opening the wooden door and stepping out. When the door closed, the echoing sound seemed to fill the empty space in the room.

Ubbe peeked down at the woman in his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Your brother….is….frightening."

"Aye, don't tell him that though. It would only inflate his ego more."

Once he was certain she was steady on her feet and would not faint, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her head before striding away to the other side of the bedroom. Quickly he pulled off his tunic and boots, tossing them onto a nearby chair and then flopped onto the massive bed in only his pants. If nothing else could be said for tonight, he knew he would sleep well. The bed was comfortable, even rivaling his own bed back in Kattegat. With a pleased groan, he tucked an arm under his head and settled under the covers. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him, his eyelids sliding closed. Even though he felt like he spent most of the day standing around and kneeling for the wedding, it was still tedious and draining. Thank the gods it was over.

"Um, my lord…."

"Ubbe." He interrupted, lips twitching in amusement. "Or husband. Whichever you prefer."

"Ah, Ubbe….are we not….?" Her hesitant voice trailed off, but the unspoken question lingered in the air.

He snorted. "I have no plans to force myself upon you just to appease your priests and bishop."

"But we must consummate the marriage."

"I will only have sex with you if you desire me as your husband and not just to fulfill an obligation."

The following, prolonged silence caused him to open his eyes and look over at his new wife. It was apparent she had not moved from where he left her. He expected to see fear on her lovely face or revulsion at the idea of her ever willingly wanting him to touch her. Instead, she seemed to be studying him with a mixture of curiosity and respect. That confident woman he had previously met, making a reappearance.

After holding her gaze for a moment, he patted the bed next to him. "Come lay down. I doubt standing there all night will be pleasant."

With a soft smile, she stepped over and crawled under the covers, but maintained an arm’s length distance between them. They both laid on their backs, together yet alone. The only sounds were of the crackling fire and their breathing.

Before he realized it, Ubbe found himself speaking, filling the silence with his babbling but strangely felt he needed to share these thoughts with the woman beside him, the woman whose life was now tied to him, whether she wanted it to be or not.

"I doubt this is the marriage you were dreaming of as a little girl. Probably expected some prince or lord….not a Viking. Your people only see us as heathens, as barbaric devils, at least that's what one of the noblemen said. That we cannot stop the evil and destruction we cause because we are possessed." He snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. After a deep breath, he turned his head to look at her, amazed to find her already watching him. His tone softened as he continued. "I'm sorry you were forced into this marriage. I know it might not mean much to you but I vow I won't ever physically harm you or force myself upon you. After all the wedding ceremonies, you can return to the nunnery if that is what you want."

Her eyes widened momentarily, then drifted away as she worried her lip once again. As he waited for her to speak, his gaze traveled over her face, taking in the small details that until now he had not been able to observe. It would be a blatant lie to say he did not desire to lie with her, to touch and taste her. The current state of his manhood was evidence enough of how simply gazing at her beauty affected him. He made a vow to her. If nothing else, he hoped they could be friendly to one another.

To his shock, she rolled onto her side, facing him completely, hands tucked under her cheek. Without hesitation, he mirrored her action, but kept his head cradled on his arm.

"I have not traveled much," she quietly said, almost shyly, "but there is one thing I've learned through my studies and the observation of others. People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." She paused as if choosing her next words carefully. "I do not think you are a barbaric devil or….or possessed. I think…."

"What?"

"I think you are very brave and strong. Not many would seek an alliance with those that fervently claim them as an enemy….nor be kind to a simple noblewoman."

He smirked, finding himself charmed by her honesty. Carefully, he reached over and brushed a thumb over her cheek. "You are no simple noblewoman, my lady."

"If you are just Ubbe, then I request you call me, y/n."

An unexpected, loud banging on the door startled them both. Y/n gasped and rushed to sit up against the headboard, eyes wide with fright. Ubbe immediately pushed himself up, making sure to put himself between his wife and the door, unsheathing a dagger he had subtly slipped under his pillow.

"Are you two done yet? Some ugly priest out here wants to know!" Bjorn shouted through the door.

Ubbe groaned, putting the dagger away, before calling back. "No! This woman is insatiable! Tell the priest to come back in the morning! Hopefully I can still walk!"

A harsh bark of laughter preceded loud arguing, which could be heard through the door. Raised voices crept underneath the door frame, the loudest being that of Bjorn. Ubbe stayed perched on the bed, to assist his brother if the need called for it. No matter what Alfred or those whiny clergy ordered, no one would be witnessing any consummation of his. Ever. Eventually, the voices dwindled like a dying flame until only silence could be heard from outside. Ubbe figured Bjorn must have won the argument, or used enough threats of bodily harm, since no one entered the bedroom.

The dagger returned to its sheath under his pillow. A habit he had since childhood. A glance to his side showed his wife still shifted as far away from the door as possible, hands clutching the sheets in a tight grip. He reached a hand out to her. "It's alright. Bjorn won't let anyone in."

She took his hand, still eyeing the door warily. "What did you say to him?"

"Ah, nothing important. Just to keep the priests away."

"Ok."

"We should go to sleep. Today has been long." He stated after he coaxed her back under the covers and no longer sent glances towards the door. Only after she was settled did he relax. Laying on his back, an arm behind his head, his eyes closed almost instantly. He could hear her shuffling occasionally but he paid it no mind. Sleep slinked into his mind, hovering on the edges.

"Ubbe…." A barely-heard whisper pulled him from the brink of sleep.

"Yes?"

"What if….what if I want to."

"Mmmm?"

"Um, fulfill our marital duties."

Well, that got his attention. He turned his head to the side, noting how her gaze traced over his bare chest slowly then lifted to meet his gaze. "Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

"Yes." She bit her bottom lip, even as her eyes never strayed from him.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Hmmm….well, I may be convinced but….you have to kiss me first."

Cautiously yet deliberately, she scooted closer until they lay side by side. In a graceful movement, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his in an innocent, chaste kiss. Her lips were softer than even the pillow beneath him and by the gods, she was going to be his undoing. After a moment, she leaned back, gazing down at him with a nervous yet endearing smile. Before he could say anything, to encourage or instruct, her lips descended on his once again, but this time hungrily. His initial surprise transitioned to a carnal satisfaction when a soft moan slipped out of her after he tugged on her bottom lip. Their mouths connected with a needy kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through him. All thoughts of sleep forgotten.

Suddenly, he flipped them over, pinning her underneath him, taking charge of their love-making. She giggled at the abrupt action but that was quickly silenced by his mouth crashing against hers and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

As she kissed him back passionately, he wondered if maybe this marriage was not such a bad idea. If the way her lips eagerly sought his, her hands gripped onto biceps as if to keep her steady, her back arched as he trailed open-mouth kisses down her neck….maybe the marriage could be more than just political.

Soon enough, all thoughts vanished from his mind that were not related in regards to exploring the exquisite body of his Saxon wife and listening to her moan his name repeatedly.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x reader #ubbe x you #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings bjorn #torvi vikings #lagertha #alfred the great #king alfred #hayleys2k #mzwrites

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disasterofastory · 3 years ago

Text

Married to Vikings Part 4 (Ubbe x Reader x Torvi)

Married to Vikings

Part 4

Ubbe x Reader x Torvi

Warnings: fight and blood and Reader x Torvi smut

Your first meeting with Hali, Asa, and Ragnar goes better than you thought. They are excited to be home with their parents, and they bombard you with questions about your past life and your skills. They ask you so many questions sometimes you almost feel dizzy, trying to answer everything.

Hali boasts about his wooden-sword fights with his uncle Hvitserk, and Asa talks about the animals she saw today, while little Ragnar sits on your lap, babbling away in sync with his siblings. His small fits squeeze your fingers and pull on your hair until he falls asleep, leaning on your shoulder.

They are energetic and chatty, and you enjoy their company no matter how tiring it is to focus on them and their never-ending stories. As the night comes, you feel drained and tired but in a good way. They make the house more pleasant and homelike.

You were afraid they wouldn’t accept you because of your religion, but they didn’t even ask you about it. They questioned you about the land you came from and about your strange accent while you were trying to talk to them in their language, but otherwise, they didn't care about your God. And probably they already know everything they can from their parents.

As the sun disappeared from the sky, you needed Ubbe and Torvi to help you put the kids in the bed to sleep. They wanted to spend more time with you until you promised them you would spend the next day with them. You felt warm and happy, seeing their welcoming behavior to you.

“They already love you,” Torvi says when all the three of you lay on your own bed, tired and sleepy.

“They are amazing,” you tell her.

It was interesting to see them around their children. You could see their love as they take care of them. You noticed very quickly that they don’t pamper and spoil their children. Those kids have to be fearless Vikings someday, and the world won’t treat them nice, so they have to be brave and ready.

“Where are you going tomorrow?” You ask Ubbe after a while, turning your head to see him. As you played with the kids today, you heard them talking about another village.

“I have to go with Bjorn to talk an Earl not far from Kattegat,” he explains. “I will be home in a few days, and you will be fine with Torvi and the kids.”

You nod, reaching for his hand while the blonde woman lays her head on his husband’s chest. You sleep much closer to the man than the beginning. There are mornings when you wake up to his arm circling your form, or you find yourself on his chest in the middle of the night. Ubbe’s warmth gives you safety and comfort at nights.

As the weeks went by since your arrival, you developed a routine on the farm. You wake up when Torvi starts to braid her hair, and you get ready to take care of the animals first thing in the morning. You have breakfast with Torvi when the kids are done, and you continue your tasks around the house or go with the Viking woman to the town. When the afternoon comes, you go home to make dinner with the help of the thralls. You became short of friends with the two young girls, who mostly take care of the children when their parents are too busy.

Two days after Ubbe’s departure, you stay home to patch up a few clothes, and you wanted some alone time with the kids. You enjoy their company and quirkiness. They teach you a lot about their language and faith. They tell you stories about the Gods and Ragnar. Hali talks about his grandfather as if he was one of the Gods.

“Y/N,” Asa mentions your name uncertainly as you sit at the table busying yourself with the clothes.

“Yes?” You look up at the little girl who stands at the door, glancing back at her shoulder repeatedly.

“Somebodies coming,” she says, and soon Hali appears behind his little sister.

You stand up to move closer to them, looking out at the two strangers getting closer and closer to the farm.

“You know them?” You ask them, hoping for a yes, but when they shake their head, your blood freezes in your veins. You can see the axe in their hands and swords hanging on their belt.

“Sura, Ines,” you call over the thralls. “You and Asa go to the village, Torvi is in the Great Hall,” you order the thralls, trying to keep your panic at bay. Sura hugs Ragnar’s little body tighter as Ines grabs Asa’s hand to pull her closer.

“I won’t leave you,” Hali says. Despite his serious expression, he still looks like a kid with challenging eyes and pouty lips.

“No,” you shake your head, motioning the girls to go, and soon they disappear at the back door. “I need you to run to your uncle Hvitserk.”

“Y/N,” he starts to argue, but you don’t let him.

“If you want to help me, run,” you tell him, and after a second, he just nods, running out of the door to his uncle.

The silence that surrounds you almost deafening. Your limbs feel heavy as you try to suppress your trembling. You can hear your blood flowing in your ear, and your heart beats faster and faster as you grab your axe, hiding it under the dresses on the table. You stare at the back door for few seconds, begging for Hvitserk to appear, but you know it’s not possible. Your attention turns to the two men who approach the house, smirking at you through the door.

“Can I help you?” You ask them. Your voice sounds stable despite the dread you feel inside.

“We come with peace.” One of them says, and all three of you know it’s a lie.

“The Prince is not here at the moment,” you tell them, hoping they get the hint about Ubbe. “I’m sure when he gets home, you can come back to talk to him.”

“Oh, but we didn't come here to talk to him,” The one with long red hair answers.

“We came for the Christian cunt.” The other answers and you need your every strength to stop your shaking. Your hand tightens on the axe under the clothes.

You practiced with Ubbe and Hali, but you are nowhere good enough to fight with two men. They probably can kill you within a minute, and you have a feeling you will be lucky if that’s what they plan for you.

“Get out,” you tell them. Your voice is much smaller than before, and they just laugh at your attempt to chase them away.

As one of them moves closer, you swing the axe out of the clothes, hitting his arm when he reaches out for you. The blade hits his arm, and a shout leaves his mouth. You jump back in fright, seeing what you did. You grab the handle again, trying to pull it out from his flesh.

And everything happens so quickly.

The axe leaves the Viking’s arm, but it slips out of your hand into the other’s head. All of you freezes from shock, looking at the man with the axe in his forehead. Blood starts to flow out of the wound before he collapses dead. You don’t have time to be surprised by your own actions because you don’t have a weapon anymore, and the red-haired one almost jumps of you, pushing you down on the floor.

A loud shriek leaves your mouth, trying to push him off yourself. Your muscles hurt from the force you fight back, and warm tears blur your sight. You feel his painful grip everywhere on your body, and soon your dress tears on your chest. Your screams die down because of your sobs and the world getting darker and darker around you until you hear a loud bang and the man falls off of you.

Your arms are still in the air, trying to shield yourself, but you don’t dare to move until you see Hvitserk above you. His blonde hair is messy, and he still pants from the run to your house.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, helping you up into a sitting position. He looks over at you, searching for injuries, but you just shake your head. You can't form words, whenever you attempt to talk, sobs break out of your throat.

“It’s okay,” he says. “You are okay.”

“Move over.” You hear Thora’s impatient voice.

Soon you find yourself in the woman’s comforting arms. She hugs you close, caressing your arm to calm you down.

“What happened with the other one?” Hvitserk asks, looking at the dead man with your axe in his head.

“The axe slipped out of my hand,” you answer between sobs, wiping the tears off from your eyes.

Ubbe’s brother looks at you, shocked. He would laugh at this if you wouldn’t be in such bad shape.

“Torvi is coming,” he says after a while, looking out of the door. “I will take care of them,” he continues looking down at the men on the floor.

After a few seconds, Torvi bursts into the house. Her eyes are wide, and her expression is panicked. She looks over the men till she finds you in Thora’s arms. She steps over them to get to you and take you over from Hvitserk’s wife.

“It’s okay,” she whispers.

As she hugs you close to herself, you start to calm down. She rocks you in her arms, whispering sweet nothing into your ear as you watch Hvitserk dragging the men out of your sight with the help of Thora.

“Where are the kids?” You ask Torvi when you two are left alone.

“They stay with Lagertha for the night,” she answers, helping you up from the floor. You hug yourself, grabbing your torn dress to hide your chest. “Come,” she says.

You go into the woods with clean clothes in your hands beside Torvi. The world glows in orange as the sun goes down above you. The air is cold, and you don’t spend much time in the water, but it’s just enough to clear your head and body. The fresh clothes feel warm and comforting on you as you get dressed. Both of you stay silent as you get home, and Torvi continues the cooking you started before the intruders.

“You were very brave today,” she says after a while, looking at you over the fire. “You saved my children.”

“Maybe they are not my children by blood, but they are my responsibility, and I love them,” you answer. You stopped crying hours before, but your voice is still quiet and hoarse.

“They love you too,” she says, smiling gently. “Asa was really worried about you.”

“I need to learn how to fight,” you tell her, looking into her pretty, green eyes. “I don’t want to be so vulnerable ever again.”

“When Ubbe hears what happened, you won’t have a choice,” she answers, sitting down next to you, giving you a plate with meat and potato.

After you eat you go to the bedroom. Without Ubbe, both of you lay in the middle of the bed. You just lay there for long minutes before you move to get closer to Torvi. Your rest your head on her chest while she hugs you closer to her body. The pelts warm you up, and your shaking stops after a while.

“I’m really proud of you,” she says, caressing your arm. “When I heard what happened…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her reassuringly, moving back on your pillow to look at her face.

The fire’s light illuminates her features.

Your heart jumps up into your throat when you notice her moving closer to you. You can feel her breath on your lips, and soon she kisses you. Her lips are warm and soft. She moves against you gently, but you don’t know what to do. You lay beside her, frozen with a rapidly beating heart.

“Just follow me,” she says when she breaks her movements to smile at your lack of experience.

She kisses you again, but this time you do as she told you. You move your lips against hers, enjoying her warmth, and your hand wanders into her hair while she caresses your side.

“I love you,” she says, supporting herself on her elbow.

She knows it for a while now, but after today she had to say it out loud. The way home from the Great Hall never seemed as long as today when she didn't even know you were alive. Her heart broke seeing you on the floor in Thora’s arms. You looked vulnerable and weak, while in reality, you never were stronger. You risked your own life to save her children. You were brave enough to face two Viking men alone while you couldn’t know the help would arrive in time.

“I love you too,” you answer her when you wake up from your initial shock. Your skin heats up saying these words to a woman.

Torvi smiles, leaning down again to kiss you more passionately. Her hands move up on your side, brushing your nipple with her thumb. You moan into her mouth at the feeling, keeping her close to you.

You feel clumsy and nervous under her. The Viking woman evokes feelings in you that you never felt before. Her touch burns your skin, and it goes through your whole body. You feel soaked between your legs, and no matter how much you move your thighs together, the frustration in you doesn’t lessen.

“I will show you something,” her voice is breathy.

Her hands move to your legs to spread them before her. The woman’s touch is much gentler than Ubbe’s on your wedding night. Your breath quickens from embarrassment and excitement at the same time. You feel flushed as Torvi stares down at you.

“What are you doing?” You choke out, trying to sit up, but she doesn’t let you.

Torvi smirks down at you, moving back on the bed till she disappears before you, and you can feel her breath between your legs.

“Wait,” you shriek, attempting to move away again, but she is faster.

Her tongue licks along your slit, and you can’t help but fall back onto the pillows, moaning. Her fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you in place. Your back arches off the bed from the pleasure. The Viking’s face buried in your pussy, devouring you to her heart content while you writhe underneath her, gripping the pelts around you. Sweat flows down on your temple, and hoarse moans break the fireplace’s crackle. The knots in your stomach tightens with her every lick and suck until you burst.

You moan her name, cumming on her tongue.

“Was it good?” She asks you after a while, hovering above you with a satisfied smile.

You need long minutes to wake up from your daze, and the aftershock still runs through your body like small bolts of lightning.

“Good,” you pant, trying to find your voice.

Sin has never been so good.

_______

Tags: @ritual-unions-gotme @adrille88 @astridbaby @mystic-shadows42

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bjornswoman · 1 year ago

Text

Enemy's cruelty

Author's note: Hello, I know that I've been away for a long time and I'm sorry for that but I needed some time away. Recently I came back in the app and realised that I never posted this part so this is my way to apologise for being inactive for so long. I hope you will enjoy this.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, slight romance.

Summary: You are planning to leave Ubbe after the news you received.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of strangulation, mentions of marriage and strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish |

History had always had this odd tendency repeating itself.

The first one was Ragnar Lothbrok. He cheated on his wife with princess Aslaug – Ubbe's mother – and she showed up on his doorstep with child – his child. Lagertha had no choice but to leave him. After all, that should be the actions of everyone who had a little bit of dignity left in them.

History is the greatest tutor. It taught you that being a great man, doesn't have to mean that you are an equally great husband.

The sons of Ragnar had a long legacy behind them from the past coming from their father and from the future because they were destined to score great achievements matching their father's reputation or even overcoming him. Though they were famous about their battle and political exploits, when it came to their intimate relationships things were completely the opposite. All their glory were coming in contrast to the infamous rumours surrounding them.

To be honest, the loyal husband didn't exist – or it was extremely rare to exist among them. It was a common secret that they had their affairs in the lands they were raiding, but it was only because they wanted someone to warm their bed for some nights before they come back to their families.

You had never cared about Ubbe's affairs. In fact, you wished something like that happened because you wanted to be free away from this who you hated passionately. But never guessed that the day your wish came true would come. Also, you would never believe that you could feel any other feeling than hate or disgust or anything bad about this awful man.

This was the worst thing that could happen and it did happen at the worst time possible. Ubbe and you had started developing weird feeling for each other – but probably it happened for the best. You were only in the beginning of feeling less abhorrence about the other person and luckily you were back on same terms before you would disappear from Kattegat for good.

Thinking about taking your child and walking away made your heart clench in your chest. You didn't want young Ragnar to grow up apart from Ubbe. You wanted them close, but you couldn't keep them close anymore. You couldn't stay and be more humiliated than before. It wasn't right neither for you nor for your son.

You knew you had to leave immediately and you would when the boy would recover from the flue. He was better the past three days – the fever was almost gone.

The same as Ubbe. Ubbe was barely around. You two couldn't stand each other in the same house. As you were informed by Torvi, he was having restless nights at Great Hall in the company of his brothers.

He wasn't seeing Margrethe anymore.

He barely talked to her.

He didn't talk at all to you.

You didn't talk at all to him.

The only moments his tired hoarse voice made it in your ears were when he was talking to your son, but even then you didn't want to hear him at all. His voice was irritating you even more than before.

You didn't want him around, but you couldn't keep him apart from his son – not when you were about to take him away from him in a matter of days.

You were trying not to think – especially not for him and not when he was around. It was even worse thinking about him and sensing his presence being in the same place as you were.

It was one of those moments, Ragnar was laying on his father's lap and was listening carefully to the stories Ubbe was telling him about his father and the cities they had raided. Ubbe was speaking about his family's legacy proudly and your son was looking at him magnetized. It felt like he was hanging from each word coming out of his mouth.

You dared to dream about a total different life for a damned second, but you erased that bloody thought from your mind the following one. There couldn't be any other alternative life that Ubbe and you could live happily married with Ragnar. You were meant to be at each others throat.

You turned around and pretended to clean your already cleaned house because you didn't want to look at him anymore. You didn't even want to breathe the same air as him.

It was all back to normal – you were back to hate him. The only difference was that after all these events you hated yourself more than you hated him. You were at fault more than he was because you let your guards down. Even for a little amount of time you let yourself change your feelings. It wasn't a wasn't a great change but still it was enough to get hurt.

Hopefully, you wouldn't get to be around him anymore if everything worked according to your plan. You didn't really like the idea of Ragnar growing up without his father, but you couldn't stay. You had been enough humiliated so far because of him and his mistress.

You would have left sooner if it hadn't been for your sick son, but he was getting better now. If your plan worked right, you would be away from this place in two nights from this moment. You would grab your son and leave at dawn before the any fisherman or merchant saw you. You had even paid some fisherman a great amount of gold to let you sail on his boat in the nearest town and there you would find your way alone.

Your mind was so absorbed in your thought about your escape plan that you didn't notice Ubbe and your son moving from the bed. Ubbe stood up and had the child on his lap before placing him inside his crib. After that he came behind you, standing there uncomfortably without saying a word. When, in fact, Ubbe wanted to say something – anything.

You almost startled when you faced him so close to you, but you didn't do any action that would let him notice. It had felt so long since the last time you were facing each other this close – the last time you had fought about his child with that girl. This time didn't feel any different.

You were standing facing each other without speaking, but there were so many unsaid things between you. So much tension that both of you couldn't unsee the fact that it existed.

Before, in moments like that – when you were staring at each other – you were throwing blades at each other. It felt like a whole single combat between the two of you. The first to take his eyes away from the other was the one who lost the battle. But this time, it didn't feel like it.

The anger and hatred were participating as any other time. Only now, another emotion was there too, in addition with the other two. It felt like guilt, coming from both sides for different reasons.

Though Ubbe was the one to blame for the best part of this situation they were put into. It would be only fair to let her go without any word and he knew it himself deep in his heart, but it was hard to accept it – to deal with it. They weren't in the best of terms ever – in fact not even close to good ones – but she had never left or had done anything to humiliate him in public. Their personal matters were kept to themselves within the walls of this house – though it was a common secret that they weren't getting along. Apart from that they kept themselves civil in public and in front of his family even though they knew everything about them.

Ubbe cleared his throat first. He had been wanting to say something since the moment he set his foot in the house, but couldn't form a word. But he knew that he couldn't keep himself from speaking. He had to say something – it felt now or never. Ubbe wanted to clear his position, to apologize. He knew that you wouldn't let him do so.

You were a proud woman – he knew it as he knew that you wouldn't let him say anything about the matter that would be keep things civil between you. In any case, this would end up bad, like it always did. You would fight again and this time it might be worse than the other times because this time you had something really serious to argue about.

"The child seems better." This was the only thing Ubbe managed to say.

You rolled your eyes at his statement and felt your blood boiling. It felt like he was in disbelief that you managed to take good care of your son and he was healthy all over again. You were mad at him for all the other situation with the slave girl, but him undermining you was worse than cheating.

"Did you believe that he wouldn't?" You tone was harsh and bitter. At the sound of it, Ubbe's expression changed. His features hardened and his jaw was clenched. The battle had started once more – like any other time.

"Would you blame me for that? It isn't like you are the most caring person around." His tone was matching to your own which enraged you even more than before. You had all rights of Midgard to be angry and he was trying to turn it to you being a bad mother because you were mean to him.

It wasn't like you didn't know it – you knew that your actions towards him wasn't kind but the opposite. But you weren't this way to your son. Ragnar the Younger was your only comfort, your only companion. The person who made you like your life when you hated it more than ever.

Your love for him was sincere. How could it now be, he was your only child even though he was also the son of your nemesis you couldn't feel any less love for the person who grew inside your body and got out of it. He was yours and you adored him.

"But your whore is, right?" You felt like you were going to strangle him to death with your bare hands. After your words, you didn't even wait for an answer of his or any movement, you were mad and you wanted to take it out of you without pressing your hands on his throat. You had never did something like that – you had slapped him, yes, but your hands never went further than that. "If you believe that she is, you are stupid enough. I have learned not to underestimate any rival of mine and I certainly haven't underestimated you or her. How could I underestimate a slave girl? Slave girls can do anything to get them out of the low position they are and be in power and when they manage to free themselves, they want more and more." A fire was dancing inside the color of your eyes. You were mad and you couldn't keep the words from getting out – you didn't want to keep them.

Ubbe didn't get to say anything. His eyes were glaring directly inside your own burning eyes – his gaze was no different than yours. He didn't answer and you after a short breath you started again with the poisonous words.

"It's so easy to notice that she is a gold digger after your status. Just by looking at the way she has all of you – the sons of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok – wrapped around her little finger you can say it. You fools have sincere and true feelings for her – how pathetic. But I won't blame you, you can't choose who your heart belonges – unfortunately. Just don't ever judge me again. You can't because you don't me." One long breath again. Your eyes always on his – sign of you believing every word that came out of your mouth. Ubbe was listening to you, preparing for his own little speech.

"I won't deny that I am a cruel woman – I know I can be harsh and bitter, but that's how I grew up. It wasn't easy for me either. I am not a thrall, but all my life it felt like I was. My fate – it seems – is controlled by men, treating me like an object they can use to secure some kind of alliance or a womb that's only use is to produce heirs. But I am a woman – a person." You almost tear up, but before even your tear came make it further than your eye you manage to wipe it away.

When you finished, Ubbe was running his hand through hair, ready to speak himself.

"You speak a lot without really knowing what you are saying – yet your words is your truth. I am not saying that life was kind to you – I can't know what has happened to you before I met you, I can only assume. My life hasn't been kind as well. Everyone is expecting extraordinary things from me because of my father – a father that was never there for me. Most of my life I've been only with my mother – who was never really there – and my brother – Bjorn. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be the man I am." Ubbe was starting calmly and yet so intensely.

"As for Margrethe, don't judge her you don't know her the way me or my siblings do. The problem is between us – it had always been there. We are the people to blame about the tragedies of our lives. You and I have made mistakes and the worst of them all was our lack of interest in hearing to each other. You had problems and I had mine when we married and we let those problem tear us apart. Both of us haven't been the ideal person for the other, but here we other stuck with each other having a conversation that had to be made a long time ago.

"We fucked up our lives with our bare hands and now after all this time of failing ourselves we are called to deal with the consequences."

"You fucked up our lives big time." Your words came out in the most selfish way possible when his own were spoken wisely and reasonably. That was Ubbe people knew and loved.

"Me, alone? As if you are a saint." His bitterness was back, but it wasn't enough to make you stop. You were mad at him.

Yes, his words were right. You were the authors of your destruction and downfall, but his doing – his intimate relationship with her and the aftermath of it, their child – was the worst part of it and was his own doing. He had tore you apart and signed your end. He couldn't say it was both your doing. Well, partially it was, but Ubbe was the one to take the most of the credit about it.

"I am not, but I wasn't the one who humiliated you by sleeping and impregnating a thrall. Be the reasonable man you claim you are and accept the amount of the blame you have, along with the consequences that follow." You spoke calmer than before and took first your eyes away from his. You moved away from him to the crib of your son to check on him. He was asleep, luckily you were calmer than usual and he was able to take his nap.

"This incident is just the tip of the iceberg. We have equal amount of blame for the rift in our marriage." He continued behind you in a tired tone of voice.

Your eyes moved away from the small form of your son and moved to the much larger one of Ubbe. You rolled your eyes once more frustrated. You were done by this. You knew what you had to do to stop all these arguments and drama – you were going to leave just a couple of days had left for you to endure Kattegat and Ubbe.

"Which marriage are you talking about? There's no marriage. You destroyed that." You weren't yelling – just scoffing. But your words, you damn well that wasn't the entire truth. It would be the whole truth if you said that you both destroyed your marriage with your foolish actions.

Your scoffing made Ubbe even more than he was. He moved towards the table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. You stayed at your former position. You were standing close to your son's crib in front of him.

"You are my wife and that won't change even though both of us would like that." Harsh and calm tone, enough to make your blood boiling for once more. Your lips pursed in a thin line and your jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I forgot you would love to free her and then marry her." Your own tone was an ironic one when you referred to her.

"I intend to marry her regardless."

Your eyes turned to meet his – his blue ones were already gazing you. It was one of those rare moments he caught off guard. For a moment or so you thought that you misheard him, but the fucking expression on his face told you otherwise – told you that you heard clearly his words.

"What?" Your voice wasn't louder than a whisper.

"I'll take her as a second wife of mine. I would tell you under different circumstances, but I have to realize that there would never be ideal or even better circumstances between us. So, yes, Margrethe will be my wife and she will give birth to my child." The whole time Ubbe was speaking, his eyes were studying you – your eyes, your expressions, everything.

You managed to take a couple of steps away from the crib. You couldn't even form a word, because you couldn't process his words.

"Your first and only wife you meant to say."

"You are my first wife."

"I am not your wife anymore."

Your whole conversation was happening – surprisingly – in the most civil way possible. No bitterness, not poisonous words, nothing. The first and hopefully the last time.

"This conversation goes nowhere. You are way too stubborn to understand a couple of things and I have a tone of fucking stuff to deal with. If you decide to calm down before the marriage, good. If not, then I'll take matters in my own hands the way I know." Ubbe stood up from the chair and moved towards you not too close, but not far enough.

"Don't do anything impulsive for your sake."

Low voice, quite threatening and eyes gazing deep in your soul. But you would never let him notice that. You were eyeing him the same way – you would never back down to none especially him.

"I am not afraid of you." Your voice was challenging and for the first time after days a vicious smirk formed on his face.

Ubbe leaned towards you, his hot breath fell on your neck. He took a sip of your scent before any word came out of mouth.

"Maybe not at the moment, but you will be." His voice was soft – softer than ever. Yet that was definitely a threat.

You didn't get to answer to that because he stormed out of the house, leaving you behind confused and angry – definitely not afraid.

The days felt insufferable. Each was another torment for you. You couldn't even step out of the door of your house, everyone was pointing their fingers at you, gossiping about your husband's offspring with the slave girl. They were mocking you – something that you proud self couldn't accept. You glared at them but that wasn't enough to restore your dignity. The only thing that would help your reputation would be to leave him for good and never ever step a foot on this damned grounds.

And the big was finally there. You were only an hour away from your freedom, but your heart was aching. It felt wrong and apart from this another strange feeling were eating you up alive. You felt like you shouldn't leave with your son, but this wasn't an option. You were out of options indeed at the end of the day.

You didn't bother to wake up Ragnar. You wrapped him in a thick fur and put your own black cloak on.

The sheet of snow on the ground and the roofs of the houses was thick. It was very cold this time of the night out there. You shouldn't be out, but you had to make it in the dock and leave to save any little dignity you had left after your husband's achievements.

You walked like a shadow in the way that led on the dock. Your weird feeling was getting stronger and stronger at each step you took towards the directions you wanted. It felt like your heart was trying to warn you not to go – not to leave Ubbe – but your mind was telling you otherwise. You had to leave, to get in that boat and move away from Kattegat.

Eventually, you made it on your destination and took off the hood of your cloak, but something felt off. Things didn't go as you planned them to.

Two men were standing in front of the dock and there wasn't any boat close enough. Moreover, the fisherman you had paid to help you was nowhere to be found. You were watching them like a hawk, trying to study them and find to get away somehow. There was no way back to Kattegat.

You turned around to step back – not to your house – to the forest. There should be a way to escape from the forest. However, when you did turned around, your eyes widened when you spotted Ubbe eyeing you with two men standing next him. Both of them were his brothers – Bjorn and Hvitserk. You couldn't read his face, but you knew by heart that he was angry and tried to hide it under this mixed expression.

Before you even thought about anything to say, Ubbe had already started walking in your direction. You couldn't really anything – you didn't need to. Both of you knew that this was the only right thing to do for the sake of your dignity, but Ubbe would never let you slip away in the middle of the night with his son on hands. Once Lagertha had managed to leave his father and Bjorn had gone her. Ubbe couldn't let you take his eldest away. He couldn't bear the thought of his boy growing away from him.

"I told you not to do anything impulsive, but per usual you didn't listen to me." Ubbe whispered to you when he was just a breath away from you. His hands wrapped around your son's little body and pulled away from your hands violently, waking him up by the way he pulled him.

The boy started crying and you yelling.

"Don't touch him! Give him to me! Ubbe!" You were yelling at him as he was walking at the other way around towards his brothers. You tried to reach him and take your son back, but the two men you saw earlier grabbed you by force by both of your arm and didn't let you approach. You were hitting them and were trying to break free but they were far more stronger than you. "No! No! No! You can't do that to me, Ubbe! NO!" You were yelling crying. Your son was crying as well on Hvitserk's lap. You sank on your knees, still trying to break free and reach your son. "You are a monster! I fucking hate you!"

Hvitserk was trying to calm down your son, but he couldn't unsee your state.

"Ubbe, maybe you should—" Hvitserk tried to reason with him, but Ubbe stopped him using both words and movements of his hands.

"Don't get involved in that, Hvitserk. This is between me and my wife." Ubbe's voice was stern as his steps were bringing him closer to your wrecked form.

"Your former wife. Former." You spitted as he was kneeling in front of you. He clicked his tongue inside his mouth when he heard you.

Swiftly his hand pulled your face by your chin and your eyes met – yours were burning full in tears and his had gone darker, they had the darkest shade of blue you had ever seen. Shortly after your eyes met, his hand moved from your chin to your throat. It wrapped around your neck so firmly that you almost couldn't breathe, but you didn't care at this point. The worst part of this situation you were into was your son's crying – it broke your heart. You wanted to reach him and caress him, sing to him and calm him down.

"You are my wife. Mine. Like it or not this is the way." Ubbe was speaking in hoarse and stern tone all the time. He was imposing and serious. "Now you have two options here and that's because I am a generous person. If it was for another man, you wouldn't have the option to see your son again, because you would be dead or worse." He left your throat and ordered his men to help you stand. At first you resisted, but eventually you did as he said. Ubbe stood up as well and for once more you were facing each other.

"Your first option is to leave. You are free to go where ever you like away from Kattegat – away from me." He started say and motioned to his men to set you free – something they did instantly.

You frowned you couldn't believe your ears. There has to be something there he wasn't going to let you leave just like that – not after all this chaos.

"But my son stays here. You will leave and never lay a foot on Kattegat. You will never see him again."

At the sound of this, you felt your heart clenching. It was like he had stabbed you with his knife directly in your heart and then ripped it out of your body. You couldn't leave your son behind and never see him again.

"No, I can't do that! You can't do that!" You cried and gazed only at your son, but Ubbe's hand wrapped around your jaw tightly and forced you to look at him, when you tried to look back at your son he didn't let you. He kept your face stable at your former position.

After your words, Ubbe smirked.

"So this leaves us with the second option. You will stay here, be my wife – my loyal wife – and you will move in the Great Hall with me. You will accept my marriage with Margrethe and give us your blessing. Also, you will never try to harm her or my child or else you will never see Ragnar the Younger again. That's a promise." He continued and left your face. After that, he moved back to his brothers who were watching the whole scene without talking after Hvitserk's attempt to reason with him. "I'll give you a second to think about your options. Think about it well."

Ubbe took Ragnar on his hands trying to calm him down himself, but he couldn't – Ragnar was still crying.

You approached them – tears were falling like waterfalls from your eyes – and opened your hands for Ragnar. Ubbe didn't give him to you even after he saw the boy's hands lifting towards you – he wanted you.

"You won't get to touch my son unless you choose correctly."

Before you mumble your answer, you wiped your tears from your soaking cheeks.

"Everything will happen as you wish. We will go to the Great Hall and I'll give you my blessing for your marriage. I'll take care of your wife and your child. Just give me my son. Please Ubbe." You hadn't felt more humiliated than this moment ever again. Even when you learned about the slave girl and her child, you didn't feel like this.

He let you have your son. When he brought him on your hands, you let your tears fall freely. You closed your eyes and smelled his scent. After that, you placed a long kiss on his forehead.

"He is my son and don't you dare think of doing something like this again, because next time I won't be this generous to you." Ubbe whispered to you and you didn't answer.

As long as you had Ragnar on your hands, you didn't care about anything else. Neither your dignity nor who Ubbe slept with. You were defeated for good. You had lost the war of your life. Your life had no meaning apart from your son. You were nothing more than a mother. Ragnar was all that had left in your life and you would give it to protect him – or end with the worst way possible whoever dared to harm him.

The following day you moved in the Great Hall, earning scoffing and mocking looks from the people in it – even the queen had a weird look on her face like she was questioning the choices you had made and your approval for Ubbe's second marriage with a thrall. The people who knew were the only ones who showed quite the sympathy, but still they were on Ubbe's side. You had no allies in this place. You were on your own as you had always been.

"Welcome in the Great Hall." The queen was the one to welcome you first. You didn't even pretend that you were glad about it, didn't even bother to force a fake smile on your face.

"It's good to have you here. Maybe you could help us with the preparations of the wedding." Margrethe was the one to speak next. She approached you smiling. Your gaze met the one of Ubbe's who was already on you, expecting your answer to his bride. You knew better than to cause a scene.

"Sure. It would be nice." You spoke, earning the laughter and mockery of Ivar. You couldn't blame him though. If it wasn't for Ragnar, you would scoff at yourself for your foolishness.

The day of the wedding was even worse than anything you had to endure so far. Maybe that was the worst day of your life and not the day of your own wedding to him. This day and the day you tried to escape with your son had been marked on your memory as the worst day of your life – you couldn't really choose which one had been worse than the one. You only knew that on those days you had been humiliated and violated in the worst ways possible.

You used to be a proud woman – now you were the exact opposite of that. You were dishonoured. You felt small and vulnerable in public, but kept trying to not break in front of the prying eyes. They had disgrace your honor, but you would never let them see how much it affected you.

You wore one of your finest dresses and put on your best of efforts to keep forcing fake smiles on your face. Your hair was braided on a tight bun. The dress you wore was black unlike the bride's white.

You were the first one to walk down the aisle and notice everyone. It was an open wedding – all Kattegat participated to confess your public humiliation, but you kept your forced smile there and waited for them. Ubbe and Margrethe followed shortly after you.

Everything was blurry for you until the Gothi asked who would give the bride to her husband. You forced a smile and without a lot words you gave her the ring made of gold Ubbe had picked for her. Then, the priestess blessed the three of you with the blessed blood of the sacrifice and it was you who had to give your bless about their union next, before the Gothi would bless the ring and Ubbe would put it on her finger.

That was the most difficult part of it. You weren't hurt about the fact they were getting married – you couldn't be. Ubbe had treated you the way your father did and that was enough to had the same feelings for him as you had for your father – to despise him. They treated you like one of their possessions, like an object. You wantes to believe that even the person he were towards you – Ubbe was different from him. But eventually they were all the same.

Margrethe lifted her hands which were inside a wreath and you touched it. You wanted to destroyed the moment your hands touched it, but you didn't do that. Instead, you freed her hands from and let it slip on the floor.

"You are free." You looked at her with your fake smile and tears threatening your eyes. Tears that you would never let them fall. You were stronger than that. Apart from relying on your own strength, you had asked Frigg herself to help you endure this. "Go, marry my husband... with my blessing." You paused for the shortest of breaths and touched your hands with Ubbe's and Margrethe's. After that you were enough not to remember the rest of the ceremony.

A feast came after this parody of a wedding. You were seated on the right side of Ubbe and Margrethe on the left. You didn't really payed attention to the conversations in the Hall, neither tried to start one. You were seated on your chair drinking ale from a curved horn.

You were quiet until Lagertha – or Earl Ingstad – approached and sat down in the empty chair next to yours. You smiled politely at her and fake. By the look on her face you were sure that she could say whether or not that smile was sincere. She knows more than people would like to.

"I have a question for you, though I know the answer myself." She started and got all of your attention on her.

"What would that question be?"

"Why did you blessed this union? Why did you stay?" Her voice was soft along, but her gaze sharp. She was studying you – reading your mind. "You and I have more in common that we would like. Once I was in your place as well. I know the feeling."

You took a long sip from your drink and worked on your answer for some seconds. You weren't going to say the truth – you weren't going to mention anything about that night. You wouldn't like to be called a coward, but better a coward than a childless mother. After all, you were there because of Ragnar the Younger, not because of Ubbe.

"Not all of us are as strong as you."

Lagertha seemed pleased by the way you chose to answer. Her hand reached for yours and she leaned closer to you. Her voice was softer than a whisper – you barely heard her – and when her words made it in your ears you were surprised.

"Yes, because you are stronger. No woman would let herself be disgraced in such way because of the love for her child. I – I didn't. When I left Ragnar, Bjorn didn't choose to come along, but eventually changed his mind. A son should be close to his father – yes – but no mother must be away from her child." Her words made your heart clench. As one mother to another she could understand your agony and pain for your only child.

A true smile formed on your face and you gave it to her, before she retreat to her original seat.

The rest of your night went by the same way it did before Lagertha showed up. Ivar would leave his offensive remarks which didn't really bother you anymore. Hvitserk wouldn't be in his usual mood due to this marriage – something like yourself. Sigurd didn't really seem offended or affected by Ubbe's choice to marry the girl. Bjorn was Bjorn – he was his usual self. After all he was the only one who never had or seeked any kind of relationship with her.

When you retreated to your chamber, you found Ubbe having Ragnar on his lap, talking to him about one more story of his family's saga. When he spotted you, he left the chair he was sitting and came closer to you, giving you the child.

"You were unexpected today." Ubbe noted and you almost let a bitter chuckle leave your mouth.

"I didn't have a choice." You spoke, looking only at your son. The only time you decided to look at him was to ask him about something. "And why are you here, anyway? Isn't your wedding night? Shouldn't you be with your new wife?" There were more than a question – more than you intended to ask – but it came out naturally.

Ubbe decided to avoid the answer you gave him after his remark and focused on your questions.

"I wanted to see my son." He said casually tickling with one of his hands your boy, making him jiggling and laughing. You smiled at the sound of his angelic laughter. "And you." This time his voice was much softer than any other time. Your eyes met and you tried to focus back on your son and not on the fast rate of your heartbeat.

"Ragnar is fine, I am fine. Go to your wife." You said quickly turning your back.

You were walking through the room, caressing your son's back. That was one of your desperate attempts to put him to sleep. He was upset the nights away from home – your former home. He wasn't used here and he would refuse to go to sleep.

"You are also my wife."

You sighed harshly when he reminded you – like you could forget when he was around all the time. Or you could forget when you were giving your blessing to wed another. Or when he forced you to stay. Or—

A soft knock on your door was enough to stop all your thoughts and prevent you from giving him any answer. Ubbe opened the door himself and revealed Hvitserk.

"Sorry to interrupt you." He spoke looking at you and you smiled at him.

"You don't. Ubbe was just leaving."

"Yeah, that was exactly the reason I came. We are expecting you. Don't be late." He whispered to his brother, but not low enough for you not to hear them. You didn't even want to think about the topic of their conversation, but you could imagine – much to your displeasure. Your mind was getting there not following your attempts not to. After these words from brother to brother, Hvitserk turned to apologetically. "Sorry again."

"Goodnight." You muttered and he winked at you. Ubbe closed the door, but not before he overheard your whisper to yourself. "I suppose that it will indeed be a good night." You laughed to yourself and he did the same as he closed the door behind his brother.

"We—" Ubbe started saying awkwardly. A hand was at the back of his head, scratching him skin. You stopped him, before he could even form a second word.

"No need to tell me anything. It's your personal life." You told him quickly, raising one of your hands – the one which wasn't holding the child – to stop him.

"You are part of my personal life." His voice was hoarse and calm for once more. As he was speaking, he was moving towards you for once more.

"I am part of your chores. I suppose." You smiled. One more real smile that evening. He smiled as well.

"No. Do you want one truth?" Ubbe was whispering now. He had stopped right in front of you. Your son was the only thing who kept you apart.

"Only one?" You kept whispering as he did.

Both of you were smiling.

"Just one."

"Go ahead, say it. I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Good. Coming back to you had always been my top priority since we met."

Your whole conversation was made of whispers and smiles – like a sacred prayer. One that was so sacred and holy that shouldn't be heard from the other. Your first and only silent one without yelling or anything loud.

You hadn't noticed how close to each you were standing until you stopped talking. All this closeness felt uncomfortable.

You took your eyes off of him and looked at your son – he was asleep. You smiled at the sight.

"He is asleep." You told Ubbe softly enough not to wake the boy.

"Yeah – um – I should probably get going." He was saying awkwardly as you were placing your son inside his crib.

"Yes, I think you should. Goodnight." You muttered and smiled uncomfortably at him.

Ubbe took a few steps back and mouthed a rushed "goodnight" before he was out of your door.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory of your previous conversation, the most real in all this time you knew each other. The only one which didn't end up in a fight or happened within one. The most calm and yet the most intensive you had.

If only this was the beginning and nothing had happened before that.

You moved you head in an attempt to remove these thoughts. Ubbe was in Margrethe's chamber with Hvitserk celebrating their first night as a wed couple and before he had forced to stay in Kattegat and suffer under the roof of the Great Hall.

Things wouldn't change with a couple of romantic thoughts. After all, any time you had one of those things had the tendency to become even more wild between Ubbe and yourself. As far as you stayed in the comfort of your chamber – away from everyone and their drama – you were safe.

Your child was the only person you needed around and Ubbe was the opposite – the person you definitely hated to have around. He and his new wife were the people you wanted to avoid and you were going to try.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka

#vikings ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #ubbe x reader #vikings au #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fic

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artemiseamoon · 3 years ago

Text

Road full of promises

Hvitserk x Mystic! F reader

Words: 2,071 | Credit to GIF owners (one is mine)

I lied, this is not short, it's long :)

AN: Post show events AU where Hvitserk goes off to travel, see the world, and find himself. He meets you along the way.

Part of Sarah’s follower celebration @solinarimoon

Prompt: “There's a darkness upon you that's flooded in light. And in the fine print They tell you what's wrong and what's right” - Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise - The Avett Brothers ( I only used one lyric)

Warnings: Angst party! Losing loved ones, dealing with Ivars death and his own past regrets, A battle scene via flashback.

This wasn’t the first time you found him like this. Sitting by the lake and gazing at the water, a faraway look in those green eyes.

Hvitserk was a mystery to you for a while. Getting close to him took patience. You soon learned of his past and the heavy burdens he carried.

The man you loved was lost, even as he traveled the world. He was trying to make sense of things, to find meaning, to find forgiveness in himself for a life wasted.

He often spoke of his brothers, his mother Auslag, and his father Ragnar Lothbrok. Hvitserk was in the habit of comparing himself to all that, a habit that left him feeling like a failure. His addiction, losing Thora, holding his brother Ivar as he died; Hvitserk told you about all of it.

Driven by these things, he set out on an adventure, a journey to find purpose, and some peace. You met on the New Moon when the Viking traveled through your town. You were gathering herbs in the woods when your paths crossed.

Long before meeting him, you planned to leave for good on the next Full Moon. You were raised by a great warrior, you shared the same set of skills as your brothers. You knew how to fight, how to win, how to survive. Yet, you were more drawn to the life led by your grandmother.

Herbalist, mystic, healer, wise woman. You were always more like her than your parents. So it was no surprise when you made the decision to dedicate your energy to that life. To do it away from the place you called home. You longed to step out of the shadow of your father's name and the obligations that came with it.

Over the next 28 days, the Vikings found little ways to pass by your stand where you sold herbs and other enchanted items. He even purchased a few things from you, all the while remaining quiet, distant.

A week before your departure day, that finally changed. The Viking visited toward closing time and helped you back up. On the walk back to your home, he asked you about your life and told you his mother was involved with similar things. Seeing your stand and the smell of it reminded him of her.

This was the start of what blossomed into a quick friendship and then a romance. Though you both held romantic longings since the beginning, it didn't start right away.

You soon learned Hvitserk was afraid to let himself love because he'd lost or pushed away anyone who loved him. Hvitserk was fearful the same would happen with you, and he didn’t want to risk it.

When you revealed your plan to leave, Hvitserk asked to accompany you. It sealed the fate of your lives together. The Viking decided to take a leap, finding you at a time he felt so lost, so alone must have meant something. Even with his fear, he wasn't going to let you slip away.

Wishing to leave him undisturbed, you stand still and quiet as you observe him and think about all the moments that led to this one. When his eyes land on you, you offer a small smile and lower your basket of herbs and mushrooms to the ground.

A tender warmth washes over him as he gazes at you, “it's like the first time, seeing you like this,”

“Always with a basket in my arms, “ you smile and walk over to him. Joining Hvitserk, you sit close and relax into him as his arm comes around your shoulders, “always with soil in my nails.” You display your hands, still smiling.

Hvitserk hums and leans forward, placing a kiss on both hands, “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

You rest your head against him with a relaxed sigh. As the sun sets, the sky transforms into a beautiful painting of violet, orange, and yellow hues. Hvitserk gently caresses your arm.

“Who captured your thoughts this time?” you ask softly.

Hvitserk is quiet for a moment. His eyes float back to the water.

“The last battle in Wessex.”

You can hear it in his voice, he drifts back into the land of nostalgia. The battle replays in his mind. Hvitserk can feel it in every cell in his body like he was still there.

The chaotic yet thrilling storm of battle, the sounds of metal, cries, and yells, blood; the catharsis of being on the battlefield like a true Viking with his brother, his old enemy, at his side.

Just as quickly, his memory transitions from the battle to Ivar's eyes as he holds him. To hear he or all people was afraid, Ivar, who was never afraid of anything. He wondered, was Ivar always afraid? Was that why he relied so heavily on his malice? To hide that internal fear and keep it secret?

Then he thinks of Ubbe, his old best friend, his favorite brother. Hvitserk never imagined they would be so distant, that they would be strangers to each other. Of all the heartbreaks he’s had in his life, this was one of the heaviest; it haunted him.

As Hvitserk deepens his trance of thought, you find yourself wandering off too. You think about a conversation you had early on as you rode back into town after showing him one of your favorite spots in the woods.

The night was quiet aside from the horse's steps on the ground and a gentle wind in the trees. You look over at him and see that look again. It's the kind of look that makes you wonder what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking.

Hvitserk feels your eyes burning into him, continuing to look ahead, he speaks. “Are you trying to figure me out?” A small grin follows his question.

You smile, turning your head to view him, “There’s a darkness upon you that’s flooded in light.”

With a curious brow, he looks at you while keeping a steady pace on the horse. You get lost in his eyes again, something that happens to you often. You watch as your words settle into Hvitserk and stir up feelings and thoughts he likely won't express aloud.

Hvitserk offers a smile, a sweet innocent one and you can't help but wonder what he was like as a kid. You imagine a little Hvitserk running around and full of joy.

“It’s late, let’s get back.” His voice pulls you back to the present. You continue the rest of the way in silence.

Clearing his throat, Hvitserk shifts his focus to you, his eyes finding your waiting and compassionate gaze.

“The Runes, and the dream you had, I think I know what it means now.”

You shift your position to get a fuller view of his face. You had your suspicions about what those dreams meant, but you didn't want to impose your ideas on him. You trusted he would come to the answer himself. It seems he has.

You take one of his hands in yours and hold it.

“My home is you,” the emotion in Hvitserks eyes almost moves you to tears, “we’ve seen so much, and we are travelers. Though, I think I need to find Ubbe.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the words leave his lips. You exhale and smile tenderly, “and I will help you.”

Using your gifts to help Hvitserk find his brother wasn't even a question. You would do anything you could to help him. You knew from your Runes that despite his anger, his pain, Ubbe missed Hvitserk too and the longing for each other was mutual. You knew, one big missing piece for Hvitserk was Ubbe.

…

It took time, but every step was worth it. Every night you barely had enough food, every storm you weathered, every night you were unsure you would find this place. Every single step of it paid off as you stepped foot on the abundant land.

It was easy to feel overstimulated. Birds you've never seen before, plant life, animals. Even in your exhausted and hungry state, you feel pure love and appreciation for seeing this with your own eyes. It was like nothing you have ever imagined.

Your joy is only increased each time you look at Hvitserk. His eyes are wide with wonder as you push your bodies and hike into the woods. Though, behind his excitement, you can sense fear, worry.

You knew he was afraid Ubbe wouldn't be here, or worse, would reject him, turn him away. You did all you could to soothe Hvitserk, but in your own way, you shared his fears.

You wished for a happy outcome and wanted more than anything for the brothers to reconcile.

…

Stopping near a stream, you both sit and scoop water into your mouths. After drinking as much as you can without getting sick, Hvitserk flicks water at your face.

A wide playful grin lights up his tired expression. You retaliate, and a water fight soon follows. Your moment of joy is short-lived when an alarm goes off in your gut. Before you can look back, you see Hvitserks pale face ashen even more as his jaw drops.

Hvitserk stands slowly and faces the group of people surrounding you. Doing the same, you stay close to him and see a vulnerable recognition in his eyes.

Following Hvitserk's gaze, you focus on the man standing slightly ahead of the group. The thing that stands out about him the most is his eyes, the most intense blue eyes you have ever seen. At first glance, they seem cold, but it doesn't take long to feel the storm behind them.

This is him. This is Ubbe.

His stance is firm, confident, and if need be, ready to strike. Your gaze bounces from Hviterk to his brother. You notice a slight slouch in Hvitserks shoulders. He drops his gaze under the intense stare of Ubbe.

Remaining silent, Ubbe raises his chin, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to his brother. You swallow and reach out until you feel Hvitserks hand and lace your fingers in his. Hvitserk holds your hand tight, you move closer.

A look of disgust fills Ubbes expression as he turns his back to you both and heads to the woods.

Hvitserk takes a step forward, his voice cracking as he speaks, “ I’m sorry.”

Ubbe stops walking, his back still toward you. Your eyes move to the blonde woman with large eyes as she steps away from the group and joins Ubbe. It seems she's trying to calm him or talk to him. She places a hand softly on his forearm as she whispers.

You see compassion in her eyes, a warmth. They are too far away, you can't hear their words. But it seems her plea has little impact, at least at that moment. She releases her hold on him, Ubbe walks away.

Three months later

It was a perfect day in paradise. The sun felt good on your skin, and a cooling breeze danced in the air. You grab two ends of the now-finished blanket as Torvi grabs the other two ends. Continuing your conversation, you lay it out on the ground to give it a good look over.

Laughter erupts from the other side of the room. You both look ahead to see Ubbe and Hvitserk sharing a moment. You can’t help but smile. That darkness that followed Hvitserk seemed lifted by this place, by forgiveness from his brother Ubbe.

It wasn’t easy to get, but Hvitserk stayed dedicated. You knew the fact that Ubbe didn’t turn you away or kill his brother meant the part of him wanting his brother back was stronger than the part who wanted to keep him out. When both brothers finally had it out and mended their wounds, it made every painful step along the way worth it.

Now, months later, it was like you were always meant to be here, and the wanderlust in both of you calms as you settle into your new home.