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pocima · 10 days
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Jooan does not need no military, he’s served ENOUGH. (♫ VIP - Isabella Lovestory, for @coolgirlkoi because we’re in this Soda lifestyle 4eva)
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~The Cripple and The Bastard~
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~Chapter 3: Blood, Sweat & Steel~
Previous parts: ((Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6  ))
Image Credit: badwolf-in-the-impala
Pairings: Ivar the Boneless x OFC
Rating: NSFW
Warnings: Verbal/physical abuse, violence, kidnapping, scars, sexual content
Chapter Warnings: Abuse, suggested beating/whipping, mentioned thoughts of suicide.
A/N: Thank you guys for all the love lately! I appreciate every single one of you and can never say thank you enough! I just hit 1K FOLLOWERS, so stayed tuned for some exciting things :D
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Yara awoke the next morning to the dull aching throb of too much drink. A groan leaving her lips as she sat up, pushing the furs aside as she stood, giving s small stretch as she grabbed her work clothes. She washed and got dressed before preparing a small meal for her father and laid out his own clothes for the day. Noting that he was still sleeping heavily, and would probably remain that way for several more hours; if not the entire day. Not that she minded the days he didn’t show up to work...but Gods help her if he showed up in a foul mood. 
Tidying up her bed, she took her leave as she stepped out into the brisk morning air, relishing in the stillness and quiet of the morning. Watching as the sky started to gradually lighten, the sun making it’s ascent from behind the mountains and into the sky as it woke for the day. But judging by the clouds that gathered along the horizon, she knew there would likely be a storm before the days end. 
Pulling the furs around her shoulders a little tighter, she set off for the forge. Enjoying the last few moments of early morning silence before the rest of Kattegat awoke to start their day.
She had been at the forge for several hours, working tirelessly, before her father finally stumbled in. No-doubt still drunk from the night before as she took in his disheveled appearance, noting he still wore the previous days clothes and reeked of ale and sex. Yara frowned as he fumbled around, making a mess of things before finally settling on crafting a new blade for a dagger. 
She continued to work quietly, hoping that if she pretended to be invisible, he wouldn't notice, nor remember that she did not arrive home until well after he had; and she succeeded for a time, before what was left of his drunken haze had faded and his usual rage filled demeanor had returned, almost in the blink of an eye.
"Where did you run off to, last night?" It was a demand, more than it was a question. His voice eerily calm, sending a chill down her spine as she made pause in hammering on the piece of steel she'd been working with. "Well?!"
"I decided to show myself around." She shrugged, completely unaware of how close he had gotten. "I figured it would not be a prob-" The sharp sting of his hand connecting with her face caught her off guard. The blow knocking her back and sending her crashing to the ground as the familiar taste of metal filled her mouth. Wincing, she touched the corner of her lip lightly drawing her hand away to reveal crimson tinged finger tips.
"Have I not warned you enough about lying to me!" He seethed, face dangerously close to her own as his fingers locked themselves around her throat, lifting her to eye level as she struggled for a breath of air; boots barely touching the ground. 
"I will not have you playing the whore like your mother did!" He spat. "I saw you leave with that Lothbrok boy." His voice had become a low growl. "You think you are worthy of their affections?"
"We...d-didn't...do...any...thing!" She gasped, struggling to speak as his grip tightened around her throat.
"You better hope for your sake that is true, Whelp!" He snarled, hand releasing her from his grasp as she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. Her own fingers gently prodding the area she could already feel beginning to bruise. 
"Get out of my sight." She did not wait around to be told twice as she exited the forge, the door slamming closed behind her as she tried to avoid the stares and whispers as she quickly made a break for the treeline where she knew no one would bother her; at least for awhile. Especially her father, who's mind she knew could change at any given moment. It was best to simply become invisible for a while until she knew he was to far gone again to care and punish her any further. 
If her luck was fortunate enough.
She broke through the treeline into the clearing in which she had been the previous night. Making her way for the cliffs edge where she stood over looking the water, drawing in a deep, shaky, breath of fresh air. Wincing as the action made her throat feel as though it was alight with fire. 
Tears of anger brimming her eyes as she brushed away at them them away furiously. Was this really to be her fate? Day in and day out for the rest of her miserable life? Or at least until her father died...'cause Gods know she would never Marry if he continued to have his way.
A quiet sob escaped her lips as she glanced down, staring past her boots over the cliffs edge into the waters below. The many times she had thought about disappearing forever...how simple it would be to just close her eyes and hand herself over to Gods. One simple step. No more pain, no more suffering, but something within her heart always stopped her. Even now, as she peered over the edge, heart beating furiously against her rib cage, as if it were a caged bird that begged to be set free...longing for it’s release. 
A rock caught the toe of her boot and rolled over the ledge, watching as it tumbled into the dark waves below. Swallowed up by the water, never to be seen again.
'So easy...' Her mind whispered.
Yara took a step back and sat down in the grass, pulling her knees against her chest and resting her forehead against them a steady raindrops began to fall from the dark clouds that had gathered overhead. Hiding the silent tears that slipped from her green eyes and tracked down her cheeks as she looked up, watching as a bolt of lightning stuck across the sky off in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder that sounded as if Thor himself could appear before her at given moment; the rain picking up pace. Falling now in almost blinding sheets as she closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the sky as she relished in the feel of it against her skin. Wishing it was possible for the passing storm to wash her sorrows away.
"Gods..." She whispered, shaking her head as she looked out over the dark water, the rain almost blinding by this point as it ran into her eyes. "Help me? Even if I do not deserve it...’fore I do not know how much longer I can bare this."
The day had faded well into evening before Yara managed to find her way back into the village. Completely soaked with rain and freezing as the breeze had picked up, seeming to blow right through her as she wandered the streets. Noting from a distance that her father was no longer at the forge, she ducked inside in an attempt to dry off and pick up the mess he had left behind. 
She ignored the sounds of work from the far end, assuming it was simply one of the other blacksmiths or villagers that was finishing up their work for the day. Paying no mind to the presence until the sounds of working had stopped and she became all to aware that she was being approached from behind. Her hand gripping the handle of the dagger that lay in front of her on a the work bench she had been busy clearing off. 
Rounding in one swift motion, dagger in hand as the movement behind her stopped, she was taken by surprise as he feet were taken out from underneath her. her back colliding harshly with the floor as all the air rushed from her lungs. A familiar strong hand plucking the dagger from her grasp as mischievous blue eyes came into her view. 
A small growl passed Yara's lips as she glared up at Ivar.
"It is nice to see you too." He replied with a smug grin as he examined the dagger he had taken from her hand. Yara said nothing in return as she sat up, rubbing at the back of her head where it hit the floor. "Did you make this?" She glanced down as he held the dagger back out for her to take. Those intense blue eyes trained on her face, falling briefly to her lips for a moment he frowned, noting the split the graced the lower left corner of her bottom lip.
"Yes." She stated as he brought his gaze back to hold her own, briefly, as she snatched the dagger out of his hand and got to her feet. Placing the dagger back on the bench before she finished cleaning up. Silence falling over them as he simply watched her move about the forge.
"The craftsmanship is impeccable." He added, pulling himself up onto a crate as he watched her stare out the door. Observing how tense her body language was, like that of a deer that was prepared to bolt at the first sign of movement. She turned to look over her shoulder with one eyebrow cocked, almost as if she was gauging whether or not her was being serious, finally nodding in acknowledgement as she closed the door. Walking over to pick up the half finished dagger that sat on the Anvil where Ivar had been working. Examining it closely --noting the struggle that had taken place in hammering it out-- before bringing it to him and holding it out.
"Heat the metal more before taking the hammer to it...it makes the steel more pliable." Her tone was soft, indicating she meant to be helpful.
"Perhaps you can give me a demonstration." He smirked; tongue darting out across his lower lip, followed by teeth. Chuckling as she glanced away awkwardly.
"Some other time perhaps." She replied. "I...should be going..." Her words trailed off quietly as her attention returned to the entrance of the forge, contemplating just exactly where she could go that wasn't home. But Ivar nodded, taking the hint as he crawled for the door, pausing just outside as he turned to look at her.
"If you do not wish to return home...you are more than welcome to follow." Frowning as he saw that her gaze had fallen on something in the distance. Ivar turning slightly to catch sight of the Blacksmith. Anger forming a sudden knot in the pit of his stomach as she shook her head in response before quickly closing the door behind her.
"I must return home...but, thank you, for the offer." She forced a half hearted smile in return, composing herself as she walked in the direction of her home. A growl leaving Ivar's throat at the thought of her having to suffer that wretched mans company. It wasn't his place to care, but he did and he hated it. He hated him...he hated her. Or at least he tried his damnedest to tell himself that he did.
More than two weeks had passed since Ivar had last seen Yara at the Forge. Ragnar having inquired about her absence after his youngest sons mention of her absence one evening. Her father claiming that she had fallen ill and was recovering at home. Forbidding her to have visitors, but having made no attempt at contacting the villages healer. 
It had been setting wrong with him for several days now. His own father simply shrugging it off, repeatedly telling Ivar that it was not their place which only further infuriated his already perpetually angry son. Generally resulting a long heated argument that would end with Ivar crawling off in a heated rage. But today, he found himself watching the forge from afar. Absentmindedly twirling a throwing knife around his finger as he watched the man. Waiting until he was engrossed in his work before taking his leave in the direction of the mans home. 
Arriving some time later he knocked on the door, waiting for several minutes but never receiving an answer. Ivar growled in frustration, knocking several more times before finally opening the door and pulling himself inside. A well aimed boot colliding with the back of his head, earning it's thrower a startled yelp as he turned with a glare.
"Are you not aware that it is rude to enter someone's home without being invited." The girl stated, furs clutched to her naked chest as she reached for an overshirt. Ivar quick to turn back towards the door, feeling his ears grow hot out of embarrassment. "You can look now." She huffed out in a frustrated tone, Ivar turning slowly as he watched her sink onto the bench by the door in front of him. Exhaustion evident on her fac, wincing in noticeable discomfort as she leaned back. He frowned.
"Pleased to see you are still alive." The comment earned an agitated snort as Yara rolled her eyes. Ignoring the intense burning gaze that made note of every fading bruise and visible welt. Several angry looking cuts exposing themselves on her left shoulder as her shirt slid down ever so slightly. Curious fingers reaching out to pull the shirt back, only to be slapped away as she gave him a warning look. Brows knitting together in frustration, he withdrew his hand for the time being. 
"That should be seen to by a healer."
"It is fine." She assured, pulling the shirt back over her shoulder gently before tightening the laces on the front of it to keep it better in place. It was Ivar's turn to roll his eyes at the hardheaded young woman who sat before him. Pale faced and tired, small beads of sweat gathering along her hairline despite it being a cool Spring day.
"You certainly do not look fine." He retorted. "You need to see a healer."
"I do not remember wanting, nor asking for your opinion." Yara snapped back. "I.am.fine."
"I will drag you along myself if I must." He shrugged matter of factly, watching as she narrowed her gaze at him. Pushing herself to her feet and moving to sit at the opposite side of the room on her bed.
"I would like to see you try." She replied with a small laugh, wincing at the pain the action clearly caused her. Her eyes widening suddenly at the quickness in which he closed the distance between them in. Vice like grip grasping her ankle and pulling her off the bed she had been seated on. Yelping as her rear connected with the hard floor roughly. His face mere inches from her own, blue eyes boring into her own.
"Do not underestimate me, woman." Ivar warned her in a dangerously low tone before releasing her from his grasp. "If you will not come willingly, I have ways of getting you there myself."
"Do you not think I would have already seen a healer if I was allowed to leave here?" She replied, not moving from the spot she had previously landed in. Ivar still in close proximity.
"Believe me. Your father is more than occupied, and will remain so for quite some time. He will not even noticed you are gone." Ivar stated. "You have my word. I will not get you into further trouble with the man." He had a difficult time making that promise, sooner wishing he could take an axe to the blacksmiths face and be done with the situation. But he kept that thought to himself.
 "Well?"
"Fine..." She replied quietly. But he could hear the uncertainty that wavered in her voice as she eyed the door nervously, but stood nevertheless. Grabbing a cloak from beside her bed and putting it on. Ivar smiled triumphantly. 
"Do not dwell on your victory too much, my dear Prince." He scowled at  her use of the word. "I am only doing this so that you will leave me alone to die in peace." Opening the backdoor with a smirk, Ivar rolled his eyes and followed her outside.
The house sat close to the woods which made it all the more easy to sneak away unnoticed, but the trek was long nevertheless, more so with frequent stops so that they could both catch their breath before continuing on. But they happened upon a small shack sometime later. Greeted by a young blonde woman who beamed brightly at the sight of the youngest Ragnarsson. That smile faltering with one glance at the girl beside him who was headed straight for the ground, another man appearing seemingly out of nowhere and catching her before she could hit.
"Gods!" The man gasped, sweeping her up in a swift motion as he headed for the small shack. "She is blazing hotter than the fires of Hel it's self!"
"Get her inside." The woman instructed in a hurried tone. Her strict orders and the voices that followed, slowly becoming one melded together blur as Yara slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
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