#earl ragnar

[lord-aldhelm]

Beautiful stills from Season 1 of The Last Kingdom.

Photos courtesy of the FarFarAwaySite

📸 by Joss Barratt (Stills Photographer for Season 1)

[dailytlk]

[tlk-kingdomsource]

Stills from Season 1 Episode 1 of The Last Kingdom

Courtesy of the FarFarAwaySite

[maralisa124]

Hi guys

There was this Finan story from the last kingdom where he was still the slave and he met a slave girl, and then they were both saved by Ragnar

Do any of you know the story???

[transfinan]

Man I can't say that earl ragnar coming out and fighting for a good minute while actually on fire was something I expected.

[hikaruchen]

King of Babygirlieness ™

[wh40kartwork]

Ragnar Blackmane

by George Earl Abalayan

[entitled-fangirl]

A ring and a cold heart.

Ivar the Boneless x Lagerthasdottir!reader

Summary: Lagertha's gift of a daughter and Ragnar's monster of a son have loved one another for far too long. But things in Kattegat are fragile, and the two now must make choices.

Warnings: mostly spoilers for S4b

A/n: I had to break this into sections. Trust that p2 is gonna get serious real fast.

Masterlist

........................................

The Seer had been right.

Lagertha would never give Ragnar a son, never bearing one after her Bjorn. But when Earl Kalf came into her life, she suddenly found herself with child.

There was little hope that the child would make it. After all, the Seer said so.

But a daughter?

Lagertha's second chance to make up for the death of her sweet Gyda. She held the babe close.

And yet.

No one predicted that she'd one day end up in the arms of Ivar the Boneless.

…

"It seems like a death sentence," she explained to Ivar. "Suicide, even."

"My father wants me to go," Ivar shrugged. "He needs me. I can't say no to that. To the gods."

She sighed. He was beyond stubborn. A true Ragnarsson trait.

She often traveled between Hedeby and Kattegat, staying with Bjorn when here. It was a strange thing to have her around, but Bjorn was the Prince of Kattegat, so others didn't have much room to question.

Plus, the Ragnarssons didn't mind a bit.

She was neither the daughter of Ragnar or Aslaug, but because of her connection to Bjorn, she was a sister to all five of them.

Well, four of them.

Ivar's love had always gone beyond that. As did hers for him.

"What if you go with Bjorn instead?" She tried. Her hand stretched out over his. "To the Mediterranean."

His head lulled. "My brothers have always doubted me. Not my father. He knows what the gods have in store for me."

"And what if all that is store is your death?"

He ran his tongue across his teeth. "Then I will die."

"Marry me before you go," she rushed out, immediately caving in once it was uttered.

"I will not risk making you a widow before you get to truly be a wife."

She felt tears well up in her eyes. She was never the strong one around. Lagertha swore to have a peaceful reign when she became Earl. There was no need to teach her daughter the hardships of being a shield maiden. She had no need to- Lagertha on one side and Bjorn on the other always. Gyda was so soft. So kind. Y/n was no different, only older. She had a chance to grow up kind.

"Don't cry," Ivar huffed. He had no idea what to do with tears. "I'll be back soon enough."

"Swear to it."

He shook his head. "I will not swear if I don't know the will of the gods."

"Then swear you'll marry me if you return."

He couldn't stop another scoff, "woman-"

"-Ivar, please."

"Ivar!" Aslaug's voice interrupted.

The queen stepped into the room, her worry turning to amusement at the sight of the two. She'd always had an odd relationship with Lagertha. How strange was fate to bring their children together? 

"Let me speak to my mother," Ivar gently waved.

Y/n nodded and stood, but her wrist was caught by him. "I swear to it," he remarked, looking her firmly in the eye.

…

Lagertha had come to Kattegat with the help of Torvi and Margerette. She hadn't dragged Y/n into the plans.

So when she took Kattegat, Y/n stood at the sidelines in shock, even letting out a shriek when Aslaug fell to the ground dead.

She wanted to feel betrayed by her mother. She should have. But she couldn't find it in herself. Lagertha had sat on the sidelines for too long as her world was taken away.

So she was torn when Ubbe and Sigurd had come to her privately.

"How are you not angry," Ubbe lectured his brother. "Our mother is dead."

"And it is for the best," Sigurd huffed. "Y/n's mother is the only one around here that knows how to truly mother. Look at Bjorn."

"Y/n?" Ubbe questioned.

She sat with her head in her hands, utterly confused by it all. "I won't choose sides."

"We all know it will come to it eventually."

She lifted her head with a heartbroken look. "Then I side with Bjorn. The side he chooses, I follow."

Ubbe nodded. "Very well. So, we wait for Bjorn."

"No," Sigurd shivered. "We wait for Ivar more."

The three exchanged nervous glances.

…

Ivar had returned first. Carried by soldiers of King Ecbert's guard, he was set onto the wooden dock of Kattegat.

She couldn't muster the strength to go welcome him. He wouldn't find out such devastating news from her.

But the next day, Ivar crawled his way into the feast hall with his picks. The entire room quieted as they waited for what the angry son of Aslaug would say.

His eyes slowly trailed from Lagertha, to Torvi, to Astrid, then finally, Y/n.

She stood to the side, a completely guilty expression strung across her face.

No one was immune to noticing the way his eyes glued themselves to her in every room.

It had been like that since her first visit to Kattegat.

It's what finally drove the stake between Sigurd and Ivar. The love Bjorn had for Y/n that he never had for his own daughter, Siggy. And how Sigurd had loved little Siggy.

Y/n's life was always a comparison to one's already dead. All did it but Ivar. Perhaps that is why she was so content to be stuck in his web.

When Largertha refused Ivar's challenge, he was becoming angrier. He knew his easiest chance to kill her was by hand-to-hand combat. Ivar was a cripple, but a damn good one.

"I will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is fixed," he growled.

Content with his threat, he looked back to Y/n, pulling a chain from around his neck.

A ring.

She felt something in her stomach twist at the shimmer that crossed her vision. His fingers rubbed over it a few times, egging for a reaction from the girl he promised to marry.

He let the chain drop to his chest with a smirk. Especially when her eyes followed it.

…

As soon as the meeting was adjourned, she rushed out to Ragnar's old cabin. The children had found it when he'd left, and it was their designated space away from the rest of the world. Plus, that was all the boys had to live in now. Ivar would be there.

She rushed in, not caring that the other brothers were gathered around. "Ivar?"

The three others looked at one another with questioning glances before completely packing up and walking out. The brothers weren't about to intervene.

The door closed before Ivar finally spoke. "What do you want?"

"Are you not grateful to be home? To be back? To be the only survivor?" She sat next to him, her voice lowering. "Are you not happy to see me?"

He scoffed, turning away.

"I didn't know, Ivar. I swear to you."

"Seems like we enjoy making swears we don't intend to keep, hm?" He mocked. 

Her eyes moved down to the chain again. She sat up straighter and brushed a hand over his chest. Over the ring. "You truly won't marry me now?" She asked softly.

His hand wrapped around her wrist gruffly. But after the initial touch, his grip softened. His jaw was clenched, his anger unchecked. But he couldn't help the flutter that still moved through his chest. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know if I want children with traitor blood."

Her fingers twiddled with the ring. "You know better than I that we don't choose our mothers. The gods do."

"And yet, you'll never help me get my revenge."

"No," she agreed. "I won't."

His eyes wandered over her face. The anger bubbled under his skin. But not at her. And that frustrated him more. "I'll still marry you. But you cannot fault your future husband when he has his revenge."

"But Bjorn will-"

"-That is my offer to you, my love. If you want this ring," he offered, pulling the chain from around his neck and setting it on the wooden table, "Then that is your choice. I have taken my stand. You know what I will do. Will you still marry me?"

She stared down at the jewelry. She'd longed for this for years now. Being his wife.

This could make or break everything.

"I… I don't know," she admitted back to him.

"You don't know?"

"I should wait. For Bjorn to come back. And Hvitserk."

He set a heavy hand on her thigh. Not menacing, but not softly either. "Will you ever choose things for yourself? Or will you wait on Bjorn hand and foot as he decides your fate?"

"Ivar-"

"-No. I do not mind if you must think on it more. But do not do what Bjorn says purely because you think it is right. He makes mistakes." His head tipped down and his gaze turned menacing. "You will choose."

She nodded. "I need time."

"Good," his voice lightened. He even managed a smile. His body leaned forward like he was thinking of kissing her, but he paused and gave a quick nod of his head in acceptance. Then he looked at the ring and her one last time before pulling himself down to the floor and leaving.

She exhaled a long breath, taking the chain and placing it around her neck, tucking it away.

…

Another feast, another problem.

Y/n wasn't far off from Torvi and Astrid, hearing them speak about something being wrong as the large doors closed.

"Like what?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know, but something."

Sigurd let out a small grunt as someone grabbed him from behind and held him at knifepoint. That began a whole group coming forward and grabbing at Lagertha's shield maidens and earls alike, restraining them all.

A hand grabbed Y/n's wrist, holding it out.

Ivar's ring was wrapped around her finger. She'd chosen.

Whoever it was dropped her hand entirely and stepped away from her, meaning she stood amidst the chaos, entirely left alone.

Everyone began to part, and Y/n tucked away towards Sigurd. Her hand grabbed the wrist of the man holding him in an attempt to pry him away.

Ivar and Ubbe approached Lagertha's throne. Lagertha was rather unfazed by it, standing and grabbing her sword slowly. She was a fighter to the end.

Ivar was impressed by her willingness to face him. He sat up with his spike as Ubbe circled around the queen.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

The door burst open, and in walks Bjorn.

"If you kill her, my brothers," he sauntered, "you'll have to kill me too."

Y/n and Sigurd both let out relieved sighs. The argument was far from over. But with Bjorn there, the fight would not be one-sided.

"Maybe we should," Ivar warned.

"Shut up," Ubbe immediately countered. He respected Bjorn immensely, and starting conflict with Ironside was like starting to dig your own grave. "She killed our mother," he mentioned. Bjorn would see where he was coming from. Surely.

"I know. You want revenge. So would I." He took in a deep breath. "But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that," he tapped his axe against Ivar's cheek, "is what we are going to do."

Lagertha smiled and threw down her sword, prompting the rest to follow.

As Sigurd was let go, Y/n immediately tended to him, rubbing a soft hand over his neck at the irritated skin. 

Frustrated, Ubbe and Ivar left.

She was torn between following them and staying with Bjorn and Lagertha.

But after speaking to the new queen, Bjorn spotted her. That made the decision. She approached him, smoothing out her dress as she weaved through everyone.

Within a few minutes, the feast began again like nothing had happened, but Bjorn was still far from jovial.

She wasn't even sure the viking knew what that word meant.

"So, I travel all the way past Frankia, through pirated seas and storms, I keelhaul my own uncle, and still," he grumbles, "things turn to ruin here the moment I turn away."

"You hated Aslaug," Y/n points out. "You always have."

"Since I watched her sleep with my father the first time they met, yes. Yes, I have," he complained. "But our mother has caused a rift that I'd rather not have now. I have revenge of my own to get and I need my brothers in order to do it."

"You have your brothers," she pointed out. "Of Ragnar's wrongful death, you all agree."

"I will not play guard to mother's kingdom more than I did before. I want to sail. To travel."

"Then don't."

He let out a long sigh. "This is why I love the sea. It is predictable. People are not. Like you," he pointed his cup towards her.

"Like me?"

"You wear a ring and you say nothing about it. You have not asked for my allowance. Let me see it." He held out a large hand, to which she slipped the band off and gave to him. 

Bjorn flipped it in his palm a few times before a daunting thought came over him. "Where did you get this?" He questioned roughly. "Who is proposing with this ring? I'll kill him."

"Brother," she scoffed. "Why the sudden rage?"

"Does mother know?" He asked in complete ignorance of her previous question.

"No. No, and she won't. Not right now."

"I'll ask one more time," Bjorn growled, leaning across the table. "Who is proposing with Mother's ring?"

Oh.

Where had Ivar gotten Lagertha's ring? 

"Our mother wore this ring until the day she and I left Ragnar. Her wedding band. Now answer the question, sister."

"Give it back, Bjorn." She tried to muster up confidence. It didn't quite work.

Bjorn's lips quirked up at that, all too amused. "I don't think I will. I think I'll hold onto this until you decide to ask for my blessing."

"That is cruel!"

He shrugged. "I don't care. Either you tell me now or he can come get it from me himself."

She let out a tantrum-like grunt and stood up, her chair scrapping against the wood. She weaved through the crowd and finally out into the cold air.

…

The journey was a little harder in the dark than she'd thought. The air was cold and frigid, and she was far from dressed for it. The wind chilled her immensely, traveling down her bones. Her chattering teeth exhaled a visible breath when she saw the cabin.

"Ivar? Ivar!" She called out as she neared.

Hvitserk was the one to come out with a concerned brow raised. 

Y/n felt guilty, still not welcoming Hvitserk after the raid. She all but collapsed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and finally relaxing.

Hvitserk froze for a moment. Touch was never his thing. "You miss me?"

"Like hell," she mumbled against his chest.

He chuckled and circled his arm around her. "Already using Christian phrases, hm? Don't let Ivar hear you. Congratulations, by the way."

It was her turn to freeze, her head tilting up until she looked straight up at him. "What?"

"You're to be married, are you not? He said so." At her hum of agreement, he rubbed a hand down her back. "You're freezing, sister. You'll catch a chill if I don't get you inside."

He guided her in. The warm air from their small fire immediately caused a shiver down her body. Hvitserk frowned and held a hand to her forehead. "Gods. I'd think you were half dead like this."

That caught Ivar's attention. His head snapped up, his entire body relaxing at the sight of her. "Did you travel this far like that?" He questioned, his hand motioning to her lack of heavy clothing.

She stepped to the fire, sitting down next to Ubbe. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to transfer some of his heat. After all, he'd been scheming over the flames for a while now. He could afford to give some of the warmth up. 

Ubbe gave a small glare to Ivar, effectively telling him to drop the question. "Let me see this ring Ivar said so much about."

Her face dropped. "Oh. I… it's…"

One by one, the siblings realized that something was not quite right and Ubbe should have minded his own business. In all honesty, it was a fair ask. One that usually is fine to ask to an engaged woman. 

Ivar let out a long, loud breath. He seethed from his place at the table. "Where is it? I was told it was on your finger only hours ago."

How to explain that Bjorn had taken it without Ivar immediately growing angry? After all, Ironside didn't know that it was Ivar's. It wasn't personal at all. But that's not how Ivar saw things.

"Where is it?" He asked in a firmer tone. His head tilted. His tongue ran over the back of his teeth. "Did someone take it from you?"

"Don't be angry-"

"-No I AM ANGRY!" He yelled. "Tell me yes or no. Have you gone back on your word?"

"Ivar," Ubbe scorned. "Let the woman speak." He pulled a piece of hair from her face. "Go on."

She sniffled and moved closer to the fire to warm her hands. She stared at her ring finger longingly. "I do, Ivar. I want to marry you."

Hvitserk smirked widely, peering at his brother in a tease. His brother. In love. 

Ivar exhaled in a hidden form of relief. "Alright."

"I did not tell Bjorn about it yet. I wanted to wait…"

"-But?" Ubbe interrupted.

"But Bjorn saw it before I could." She frowned. "Where did you get Lagertha's ring?"

Every head shot to Ivar in shock.

He shrugged. "Father gave it to me. On our way to Wessex. I told him that we would marry when I returned and he gave me the ring. Chain and all. He said he'd worn it around his neck since the day your mother left him."

............................................

[axelsagewrites]

Hello,

Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.

Ivar the Boneless*Shy

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 2081

Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff

Masterlist here

As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.

It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.

Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.

You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.

“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.

Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”

Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.

“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.

“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”

Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.

“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.

“What are you doing?”

“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.

“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”

“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.

For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.

“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.

“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”

“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.

“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”

“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.

“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”

“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.

 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.

-

The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”

-

Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.

He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.

Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”

With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.

-

You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.

“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.

He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”

“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.

None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.

“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”

“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”

“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.

-

While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.

“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.

Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.

“How have you been- “

“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”

A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.

“And now?”

You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.

“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”

Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”

“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.

“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”

He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.

-

For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.

You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.

“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”

“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.

“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,”

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[flintsilvers]

people who did not watch vikings s1 through 3 do Not understand the enormity of ragnar and athelstan, the viking earl who kidnapped the christian monk and the two of them spent the rest of their lives falling harder and harder in love with each other to the point that when the christian monk died the viking earl (now king) had the bishop of paris baptize him so they could be reunited in heaven and later tried to kill himself but didnt manage to and spent the followong 10 years away from everything and everyone and only came back to die at the hands of the other king who was psychosexually obsessed with the monk

[dailytlk]

[tlk-kingdomsource]

Stills from Season 1 Episode 1 of The Last Kingdom

Courtesy of the FarFarAwaySite

[grantairescurls]

yeah but also he dislikes when people take care of him when he’s sick because it makes him feel useless and a burden so he pretends to be fine until he passes out during training and Ragnar has to carry him to his house and threaten him to rest

Athelstan would be the kind of person who Never Gets Sick and is always kinda smug about it until he does actually and is down for the count for like 2 weeks and he feels like a corpse he Is Not Happy

[transfinan]

I'm loving earl ragnar and I'm loving this old blind guy

[imtryingbuck]

Forever thankful

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Ubbe Ragnarsson x plus size fem!Reader / Hvitserk Ragnarsson x plus size fem!Reader

Summary: Ubbe falls in love with his brothers wife.

Word count: 5,818

Warnings: fluff. angst. cheating. fat shaming. assault on reader (not detailed). mentions of sex. slight mention of rape but it doesn’t happen! smut(?). wanting to die (but not suicide / I honestly don’t know how to word it I’m sorry.)

Masterlist

Hvitserk was a fool.

Hvitserk was truly the biggest fool Ubbe had ever known.

He had a beautiful wife. A beautiful, kind, loving, sweet wife, sitting at home all alone whilst he was sat in the great hall with a woman sitting on his lap, one hand disappearing under her skirts as the other one cupped her face whilst his tongue was practically down her throat.

Ubbe was having to bite his tongue to keep himself quiet as Margrethe sat tense beside him, her normally bright blue eyes turned darker when the woman sat upon Hvitserks lap began moaning softly, Ubbe knew exactly why his wife was tense, she was jealous. Jealous of the woman who was sitting on her married brother in laws lap, jealous of the woman that would be warming her married brother in laws bed that night and not her.

He knew that his wife warmed more than just his brothers bed, of course he did, he was there most times, but ever since Hvisterk married the woman who now sat in their small cottage all alone - those moments were now rare. Not knowing that his wife and brother were now meeting up in secret. In all truth, he thought that his brother wouldn’t be seeking other skirts to chase, not when he had such a beautiful wife awaiting him at home every night.

The woman’s unabashed loud moans had Ubbe slamming down his knife and fork on the table. “Do you really have to do that here whilst we are trying to eat?”

“What’s your problem?” Hvisterk asked amused as he finally pulled himself away from the woman’s neck where he was decorating it in marks.

Choosing to ignore his brother he turned to the woman. “You do know he is married, right?”

“So?” She giggled in a breathless moan. “I don’t see her here, do you?”

Without saying another word to anyone he stood up and walked out of the hall. His brothers wife, so sweet and caring didn’t deserve a husband like the one she was given, Ubbe thought as he walked away from his brothers and wife, ignoring their calls for him to come back.

The first time he saw the woman who was going to marry his brother was nearly two years prior, her father was an Earl from the neighbouring village who had fought alongside Ragnar in every battle his father had. Ubbe stood by his nervous brother laughing lightly at Sigurds and Ivars taunts as the longboat came to a halt next to the docks, the young woman was accompanied only by her older brother as her father had died three years earlier, the first thing he had noticed was that her body was bigger than the women in Kattegat - filling out the pretty dress better than anyone else who would have worn it. As she got closer he couldn’t remove his eyes away from her face, it truly was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her wide, bright eyes were kept on the queen as introductions were made. His feet wanted to step forward when Aslaug said. “This is my son, the one you’ll marry.” But unfortunately his name wasn’t called, no, no it was Hvisterk, the one that had scratch marks on his back given to him by the farmers wife, knowing that fact had acid burning in his throat.

That night after everyone had gone to bed, the four brothers gathered around the hearth with cups of mead. “I can’t marry her.”

“Why?” Sigurd questioned.

“She’s fat!” His favourite out of his brothers cried. “I can’t have a fat wife!”

“She’s pretty.” Ivar spoke quietly from his spot next to Ubbe. “And she has wide hips, great for bearing children.”

Hvisterk laughed, a cold and cruel laugh. “I will not be giving her my seed! I don’t want a fat pig like her having my children.”

Sigurd looked towards the hallway with a sad smile on his lips as Ubbe tried to make his brother see sense. “You’ll need to have a child or two with her, you’ll grow to love her Hvit.”

“No I don’t and I won’t. I’d rather have bastards than give that fat woman my seed.”

Even Ivar, the one that was the heartless out of them sighed in disappointment. “She seems nice.”

“You marry her then!” Hvitserk snapped.

“I would if I could.” The youngest shrugged. “But unfortunately for her she’s been promised to you.”

“Why unfortunately? She should be lucky.”

Ubbe blanked out the rest of the conversation turned argument between his brothers, gulping down the rest of his drink he stood up and bid his goodbyes, only slowing down when Sigurd called out his name. “She heard.”

“What?”

“Lady Y/n, she heard what our idiot brother was saying about her.”

“How-”

“I saw her Ubbe, she looked like she was going to cry. I mean I would too if I was her.”

“Hopefully it’s just the mead talking. Goodnight brother.”

In the three weeks that Lady Y/n and her brother was in Kattegat Hvitserk spent hardly any time with her, Ubbe watched as the brightness of her eyes dim with each day. On her wedding day she hardly smiled and when she did he could tell it was forced, that night he watched as his brother drank more and more then clumsily dragged his new wife towards his bedroom.

Margrethe giggled as she told him that Hvitserk had told her that he called his wife by the former thralls name as he emptied his seed inside her.

She wouldn’t have been giggling as if she had heard the funniest joke if she had known that her own husband was thinking of his brother’s new wife whilst he was inside of her.

He knew it was wrong, he was lucky to have married a woman he loved unlike his brother, he had always thought that Margrethe was beautiful from the moment he laid eyes on her - but Y/n, Y/n’s beauty would have made Freyja herself jealous. Every time he saw her give a genuine smile he wanted more, most preferably aimed at him. Her eyes would light up each time the children of Kattegat would come and speak to her, shyly handing her a flower they had plucked themselves from near the woods or gifting her a nice smooth pebble they had found - it always warmed his heart, unlike his wife’s attitude towards the innocent little ones, always turning her nose up at them and dismissing them as if they were nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be able to call Y/n his wife, to be able to feel her smooth skin under his rough hands - the thought of being able to feel her curves and plumb skin always had his length swell. And most importantly he wanted nothing more to do the very thing that Hvitserk was denying himself of - starting a family.

“Ah! P-Prince Ubbe.” Hearing her startled voice had him snapping out of his memories, shaking his head in confusion he didn’t realise that his feet had led him to his brother and sister in laws cottage. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Blue, normally bright but now dark due to the night sky, eyes noticed the red and purple stains on her apron, a small smile appeared on his lips knowing that she was probably making her infamous cake that he and Ivar loved so much. In her arms held several pieces of chopped wood. “What are you doing?”

“Dropping these off to the neighbour, her husband has died recently and she’s been left with three children, one being a newborn,” lifting the logs higher. “and I chopped way to many this morning so I’m giving them to her.”

Always thoughtful, always generous. He thought to himself. “Here, let me help you.”

“Thank you.” Handing over the logs carefully she turned and picked up a basket. “I have filled it with some food and some clothes I had made for the babe.”

His heart ached in his chest. He knew for fact that she didn’t make those clothes for her neighbours newborn babe, but for her own. Despite hearing Hvitserk’s words that night she thought that maybe the gods would have allowed the seed he had planted in her womb to take place after their wedding night even when he was rough as he took her maidenhood, fucking her as if she meant nothing to him, spilling his seed with another woman’s name falling from his lips - but it never did, but that didn’t stop her from making them, she had hoped that the words she heard from her soon to be husband would have just been that, words, that maybe he would have grown to love her and that they could be happy. Now over a year into their marriage she was only touched once by her husband, she gave up that hope, that dream of having her own children, the basket beside the fireplace that began filling up with baby clothes was left abandoned, just as she was.

“Y/n-”

“It’s fine.” She smiled softly up at him. Guiding him towards the neighbour, Ubbe couldn’t force his wandering eyes away from the sway of her hips, smiling warmly at the neighbour as she profusely thanked Y/n for everything. “Would you like come in?”

He hadn’t even realised that they were back at her cottage. “Yes please.” The warmth of her home she shared with his brother was so different from his own home, how? he couldn’t really explain, maybe it was because she did everything in the home, she no longer had any thralls freeing them after she walked in on Hvitserk having sex with one of them in their marital bed. Or maybe it was the way her home was always so inviting and cosy or maybe it was just because it was her home. But what ever the reason was, he knew that he was happier being in her home than he was at his own cottage that he shared with his wife.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Despite him already having something to eat, his stomach growled, he didn’t even get to finish his meal in the hall. Nodding with a soft smile on his face he looked up at her from the seat he was occupying at the table. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay.” Gently placing the plate in front of him, she grabbed her own and sat down across from him. “It would have gone to waste anyway.”

“You did this for him?”

“Of course, he is my husband.” Dropping her knife and fork she stood up and rushed over to the counter and grabbed the jug full of mead and a cup. “I forgot to offer this for you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. Now sit and eat, I can fill my own cup.” Pouring his drink his eyebrows pulled together when he noticed that she didn’t have a cup too. “Do you not want a drink?”

“Oh no, thank you though.”

As they ate in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from inside the cottage was the crackling from the fireplace and Ubbe sighing with each bite in satisfaction at the taste of her cooking. “That was delicious Y/n.”

Her cheeks turned red at his compliment. “Thank you.” Standing up once more, she took his plate and hers away from the table.

“You haven’t finish your food?”

“It is fine, I’m not hungry anymore.” He nodded though he was skeptical. “He isn’t coming back tonight, is he?”

Gulping down the rest of his drink, he tried to think of something to say. “I-I’m not sure.”

“He probably won’t.” She shrugged as she washed the plates. “He only comes back when he needs clean clothes, leaving me with his dirty ones that I have to clean and sow.”

There was no malice in her voice as she spoke, to him it sounded as she had just given up. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about prince Ubbe.”

“He is my brother, I have to apologise for his behaviour and actions towards you and your marriage.”

“He’s not bad.” She sighed as he pulled a face. “He doesn’t hit me, he doesn’t force me to lay with him, he gives me enough coin for each month, so no, he isn’t a bad husband.”

“Just because he doesn’t hit you or rape you doesn’t make him a good husband, he’s left you alone whilst he chases after other women.”

“Your wife being one of them.” She says softly. “He is happy, that’s all that matters.”

It was his turn to sigh, he couldn’t argue with her, but he truly thought that after his brother married that the agreement of sharing Margrethe would have come to an end. “And what of your happiness?”

“It does not matter.”

“Yes it does.”

“I am happy.” It was a lie, she knew that and so did he. “I would like you to leave now please, I’m tired.” Another lie but she didn’t want to keep having this conversation.

“Very well, goodnight princess.”

Three months later Ubbe spent most of his time with Y/n, helping her with everything ranging from: chopping wood, hunting, cooking, cleaning and she had even taught him how to correctly sow. He truly enjoyed every second he spent with her - even when she did laugh at him when he somehow managed to trip over the broom he was using to sweep up.

He loved just sitting in front of the fireplace with her and talk about everything and anything, he learned so much about her - things that he doubted his brother even knew. His muscles would finally relax whenever he was with her, she became a home to him, he was able to be himself and talk about his dreams of being a simple farmer - he remembered the time he told Margrethe about his dream, she just laughed at him, but not Y/n, no she smiled softly at him and told him that he would be an amazing farmer with so many cute animals.

It was easy being with Y/n, it was easy for him to fall in love with her.

The brothers had decided to go into the woods where they could practice, Ubbe listened as Ivar and Sigurd argued about whose arrow had hit the target in the eye - both claiming it was their own, when only one was correct and of course it was Ivars but he kept quiet. His bright blue eyes searched for Hvitserk, rolling them when he found him, he was kissing a woman who Ubbe had never seen before.

The youngest two of them pulled a face when Hvitserk came jogging up to them. “I’m going to the cabin.” Without waiting for a response he jogged back over to the woman and took her by the hand and lead them away towards where the cabin sat.

“I’m going to go.” Ubbe said interrupting his two brothers who carried on their argument. “And Sigurd it was Ivars.”

The blond groaned whilst the youngest laughed. “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“What?” Ivar just smirked at him. “How do you know?”

“I know everything brother.” Tapping the side of his head. “And plus you brought me a slice of cake, knowing I only like the ones that Y/n makes.”

“Don’t say anything.” Ubbe pointed to his brothers. “It’s nothing, okay? I’m just spending time with her because she’s lonely.”

“And because you love her.” Sigurd laughed whilst Ivar nodded in agreement. “I think this will be the only time that me and the cripple will ever agree on anything, but we promise not to say anything.”

“Yes, snakey here is right. You deserve to be happy Ubbe.”

Ubbe couldn’t believe what he was hearing honestly, all four of them would argue and even fight with each other but Ivar and Sigurd, never ever got on, never really had anything nice to say about the other. Y/n wasn’t going to believe him when he told her. “You won’t tell Hvitserk?”

“Why would we tell him? He’s been a terrible husband to her.”

“Right. Okay, well I’m going to go, please don’t kill each other whilst I’m gone.”

Plucking a flower from the ground he held it carefully in his hand as he made his way towards the cottage, with a smile on his face he knocked twice on the wooden door. His eyebrows pulled together with worry and confusion as she had yet to answer, he only relaxed when he heard her sweet voice. “Hi-” he cut himself off as her face came into view. Her pretty face was bruised. A cut on her cheek and across her chin. Her left eye slightly swollen. And when he looked down his fists clenched even tighter, a dark bruise was covering her neck. “Who did this?”

“I-it doesn’t matter.” Her voice hoarse and not soft like it always is.

“Who, Y/n?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Gently pushing her back so he could step inside, he kicked the door shut behind him. From the corner of his eye he caught the sight of her table on its side and several chairs had been destroyed, her things had been thrown around the room - his heart clenched when he saw the small jewellery box that her father had made for her a few months before he passed away, on the floor and broken. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Hvitserk?”

“No! No it wasn’t him.” Sitting down on the only chair that hadn’t been broken, she sighed. “A man, he knocked on the door last night and I thought it was you, bu-but it wasn’t. Anyway he was angry because the woman he was supposed to marry was caught in the barn with Hvitserk, he said he doesn’t want to marry the prince’s whore.”

“What is his name?”

“I don’t know and that’s the truth.”

“What about her name?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “He has loads of women so it could be anyone.”

It was his brother’s fault. It was all Hvitserk’s fault. If he had just been faithful to his wife then a man wouldn’t have taken his anger out on sweet, kind, beautiful Y/n. She didn’t deserve it, she didn’t deserve a husband as cowardly as the one she got, she didn’t deserve to have her delicate skin damaged by a man who was angry, she didn’t deserve this man’s anger since it was aimed at the wrong person. She deserved better, a better life, a better husband. She deserved nothing but love, respect, happiness and devotion.

Ubbe wanted nothing more than to run up to the cabin where Hvitserk was currently fucking a woman that wasn’t his wife and beat some sense into him, then he would find the man who dared to put his dirty hands on his Y/n and make sure that this man didn’t have a seat at Odin’s table.

But then he looked down at her where she still sat on the chair, nervously twisting a bit of her dress in her hands. His brother and unknown man was going to have to wait for his anger. “Let me clean your wounds, okay?”

“You don’t-”

“I know.” Leaning down he pressed a kiss to her forehead and gathered everything he needed. Slowly and gently he cleaned the cuts on her cheek and chin, as he concentrated he could feel her eyes on him which caused his cheeks to tint red.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up.”

“I can do that.”

“I know you can but I’m here.” Putting down the broom he was using he gently pushed her to sit back down on the chair. “Just sit and relax.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiled softly at her before continuing his work, gently scolding her every time she tried to help and he even refused her help with turning the table on all fours. When he was finished he looked around the cottage and hated how much emptier it now seemed without her trinkets and jars. “I promise I’ll get you some new chairs and some new jars, oh I saw a really nice one yesterday on the market - I’ll go and see if it’s still there tomorrow.”

Cutting his rambling off. “You don’t need to do that Ubbe.”

“I know-”

“I know you know but it is not your responsibility to take care of this.”

“You’re right, it’s Hvitserks but do you really think he would?”

“No.” She sighed softly. “No he wouldn’t but it isn’t his responsibility either, it’s mine.”

His thin eyebrows pulled together and downwards as his face scrunched up in disgust. “You really think that? You are his wife! This is his home, he should be here taking care of you and not-”

“With another woman?” She cut him off. “He does not care for me, Ubbe. The only reason why that man didn’t kill me last night was because I begged him, I begged him to kill me, I begged and begged and unfortunately he didn’t.”

Taking a step back from her as if she had burnt him, the blue in his eyes went brighter due to the tears that wanted to fall. “W-what? Why? Why would you beg such a thing?”

“So I can be free, so that Hvitserk will be free. With me gone he’d be able to marry someone he truly loves, someone worthy of his time and love.” Stepping closer to him she slowly raised her hand to cup his face. “All I have ever wanted was to be loved, to be respected, to be able to share my life with someone but that won’t happen in this life and I’ve accepted that.”

“And that’s your reason to want to die? To leave me?” One of his hands went to her waist as the other held her hand that was still resting on his face. “My brother is a fool, but so am I. I thought I married someone for love but I didn’t know what love was until I met you. You don’t need to accept being lonely or being unloved because I’m here, I’m here to be by your side, I’m here to love you until my time comes and even then I will still love you.”

Tears streamed down her face freely as he spoke, through blurred vision she searched his eyes for any indication of him being untruthful with his words when she didn’t find any she did something that shocked not only herself but the man in front of her. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Her cheeks went bright red with embarrassment because just like Hvitserk on their wedding day, Ubbe didn’t kiss her back. “I-I’m s-sorry.” She stuttered in a whisper, feeling like the biggest idiot ever she began to pull away from him, frowning slightly when she realised that he wasn’t letting her go. Before she could say anything Ubbe smiled softly then he kissed her, it was slow at first which she was grateful for as this was the second time she had kissed someone but as it turned more heated she happily followed his lead.

He smiled to himself when he felt her hands beginning to tug on his clothes, he was more than happy to comply with her unspoken wishes and stood proudly before her naked as the day as he was born. Laying her down gently on the softest of furs in front of the lit fireplace, he couldn’t tear his lips away from hers as his hands roamed her frame - when he finally removed her dress off his eyes turned even darker with lust, with admiration, with love. Moving ever so slowly down her naked body he left a trail of wet kisses, repeating his actions when he thought he had left a spot untouched by his lips, licking his lips he locked eyes with hers as he began devouring her just like the meaning of his name, he was truly a wolf as her limbs became weak and floppy. He couldn’t wait no longer, he needed to feel her around him, kissing her passionately, he smiled softly at her, never have I ever seen more of a beautiful sight he thought to himself as he began pushing his hardness into her, both sighing in content at the feeling of them joining as one.

Keeping himself buried deep inside her as they came down from their peaks praises of how well she did and how amazing she is fell from his lips in between kissing every inch of her face. A shocked gasp came from her when he picked her body up from off the ground he promised her that she was fine, carrying her in his arms he walked the both of them into her bedroom where he placed her gently on the bed that she shared with his brother. Her scent filled his senses as he slid into the comfy bed, no traces of his brother was present as his wrapped his arms around her, he fell asleep not long after she did, falling asleep before whispering I love you into her braided hair, falling asleep happily with her wrapped up in his strong arms.

For a whole two weeks none of Ubbes family saw him and Margrethe hadn’t even realised as she was too busy with Hvitserk. And what Ubbe didn’t know was that Ivar and Sigurd were actually covering for him whenever Aslaug questioned his whereabouts.

But unfortunately the boys were running out of excuses, so they made their way towards Y/n’s cottage. “Knock then.”

“No you do it.”

“I’m a cripple!”

“And that means that you can’t knock on a door?”

“Yes.”

“It’s your legs that don’t work, not your arms.” Sigurd huffed as his brother smiled up at him sarcastically. “Fine.”

Neither one of them realising that Ubbe and Y/n were struggling to hold back their laughter behind the door at hearing the brothers little argument. Opening the door just as Sigurd was about to knock Ubbe cocked his head to the side. “What can we do for you two?”

“Mother keeps asking for you and we are now running out of excuses.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, we haven’t told anyone where you have been really.”

“Thanks.” Facing Y/n he cupped her face gently. “Are you ready?”

In all the time Sigurd and Ivar had known Y/n they had never seen her have a genuine smile on her face, but they see it as she looks up at their older brother. “I’m ready.”

Ivar looked up at Sigurd giving him a questioning look, the blond shrugged and asked. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to ask mother to grant me and Y/n a divorce from Margrethe and Hvitserk.” Tucking in a piece of hair behind Y/n’s ear, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And then we will get married.”

Sigurd smiled. “I’m sure she will.”

“And I’m sure the thrall and the fool will be angry.” Ivar smiled.

All four of them made their way towards the great hall, Ubbes hand gently holding Y/n’s, squeezing softly when he felt her tense up as they got closer to the building. Aslaug was sat upon her throne, squinting slightly when she saw the two holding hands, a subtle grin on her lips. “Sons, Y/n.”

“Mother.” As Ubbe took a step forward towards his mother Hvitserk and Margrethe came around the corner, the prince with his arm around the former thralls waist, both giggling. “Queen Aslaug I’m here to ask you to grant me a divorce from my wife.”

That got the pair to stop giggling. Hvitserks arm slipping slowly from Margrethe’s waist.

“What?” The blonde woman stuttered.

Aslaug nodded, not letting Ubbe answer. “Divorce granted.”

“Thank you.”

“You can’t do this!” Margrethe shouted. “On what grounds? Y-you need a reason!”

“He is a prince, he doesn’t need a reason.” Aslaug responded. “I assume you wish for a divorce too, Y/n.”

She could feel Hvitserks green eyes burning the side of her face, she tried to ignore it as best as she could as she took a deep breath. “Yes please.”

“Divorce granted.”

“No! No she’s my wife!” Y/n flinched at his shouting causing Ubbe and Sigurd to stand protectively in front of her. “Mother you can’t do this, she’s my wife.”

Ubbe went to speak but Aslaug held her hand up to silence him, standing up she made her way down the steps and stood in front of her second son. “Your wife? I have seen the way you have treated her, I have heard the whispers about the countless of women who you have decided to spend your time with.” Cupping his face in her hands. “She should never have been your wife Hvitserk.”

“But-”

“No. No buts. You never deserved her.” Walking up to Ubbe and Y/n, she smiled warmly. “He does, and he will be a better husband to her than you ever was and they will have the life they have always wanted.” Her grey-blue eyes went to Y/n’s stomach, a warm smile on her lips. Aslaug knew, she knew because she had a dream, a dream of her oldest son and his wife living on a farm surrounded by animals that Y/n had named even against Ubbes advice not to, her daughter in law was heavily pregnant and her son couldn’t take his hands off of her. She had never seen her son so happy before. When Aslaug woke up she was confused because she didn’t know the woman in her dream, not until a few hours later when the ship carrying the woman Hvitserk was to marry pulled up to the docks.

“But she’s mine!” Her second son shouted.

“If she was truly yours then you would have looked after her better.” She remarked. “Ubbe, Y/n you both have my blessing to marry.”

“Thank you mother.”

A month later the two got married, Hvitserk refused to show up to the wedding whilst Margrethe was held back by the queens guards. Two days before the wedding Y/n found out that she was with child when she told Ubbe, he fell to his knees and pressed several kisses to her covered stomach, promises falling from his lips of how he was going to love the babe and protect them no matter what. Aslaug had a knowing smile on her face before they even had the chance to tell her.

Hvitserk was beyond angry when he found out that Y/n was pregnant, to him she had betrayed him, and he wanted justice. Showing up at the cottage he was given by his mother as a wedding gift he was shocked to find the place completely empty. “She’s not here.” He practically jumped out of his skin at hearing a voice behind him.

“Where is she?”

“With her husband.”

“I’m her husband.” Turning around he saw Ivar sitting upon an empty crate. “She’s my wife and yet I don’t see her anywhere, do you?”

“Ah but you’re not her husband anymore, are you? No, our big brother is.”

“She belongs to me!”

“Nope, not anymore she doesn’t.”

“Where are they?”

“Did you know that Ubbe killed the man who attacked Y/n?” Ivar asked instead. “You probably didn’t, me and Sigurd was there and I do have to say that Ubbe didn’t go easy on the guy.”

Frowning and shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

“See you later.”

“Wait, where are you going? You didn’t tell me what happened.”

“I’m going?” Ivar laughed. “Did you not hear me?”

“Ivar stop playing games! What happened to Y/n?”

“When?”

“Don’t-”

“She was attacked.”

“What? When? Who did it?”

Ivar laughed again. “Don’t act like you actually care because you never did before. It happened when you were busy fucking another woman. It was done by a guy who caught you and his fiancé fucking in a barn.”

“I-I-”

“I-I-I don’t want to hear it and neither would Y/n and Ubbe.” Settling himself onto the ground Ivar looked up at his brother. “Whatever the reason you had when you came here just leave them alone Hvitserk. You had your chance and lost it because you couldn’t keep it in your trousers.”

Hvitserk went inside the cottage that Y/n had made a home for the two of them and the children he swore he would never give her, sitting down on the cold wooden flooring, he pulled his knees up to his chest and cried. The reality and realisation of what he once had and what he had lost had finally caught up to him.

“Ubbe!”

“Yes my love?”

“Lady Penelope has given birth!”

Walking over to where Y/n was resting against the fence, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder. “Twelve piglets, not bad.”

“She did so well.”

A few days after Ubbe and Y/n was married, they moved to the farm house that had been abandoned for a couple of years, after several weeks of fixing up the house with the help of Sigurd and Ivar - it became a warm and welcoming home.

Hvitserk came to visit once, he apologised to Y/n for the way he treated her during their marriage and gave her and Ubbe his blessing for them to marry - which left Ubbe unable to control his laughter seen as though they were already married and he didn’t need his brothers so called blessing.

Aslaug watched from her spot on the bench with Sigurd sitting next to her and Ivar sitting on the floor as Ubbe kept his hand on Y/n’s back, from where she was sat she couldn’t hear what the two were saying but she could see genuine smiles and hear their laughter. Looking down at Aesir who was using Ivar as a climbing frame she smiled softly. “I think he likes you.”

“Of course he does, I’m his favourite.” Ivar chuckled. “Aren’t I Aesir?” The two year old just giggled and put his little hand into Ivars mouth.

“I’m going to be the next ones favourite.” Sigurd commented. “It shouldn’t be long now before the babe comes.” Aslaug sighed and blocked out the bickering between her two sons, and kept watching Ubbe and Y/n.

Ubbe placed his hands on his wife’s large bump, absolutely loving the feeling of their child move around, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hvitserk was a fool who lost the best thing he would ever have, and for that Ubbe was forever thankful.

Tags: @cheesesandwichsanto

[whencyclopedia]

Vikings TV Series - Historical Accuracy

Vikings (2013-present) is a historical fiction TV series created and written by English screenwriter Michael Hirst for the History Channel. Filmed in Ireland, the show draws on Scandinavian and European history and lore as it follows the life of legendary Viking chief Ragnar Lothbrok, his descendants, and the kings and cultures the Vikings influenced in the 8th and 9th centuries CE.

Since its premiere, questions have consistently been posed by viewers as to the historical accuracy of the show and, while there are many, some of the major differences between history and the series will be addressed below.

Warning: Spoiler Alert - if you have not seen the show yet, you may not want to read further.

Although many of the characters in Vikings are based on historical figures, and a number of events actually happened, there are significant departures throughout. In order to create a seamless narrative and engaging story arc, historical events are often telescoped, combined, compressed, or otherwise altered.

A notable example of this is how, in Season 1:2, Ragnar attacks the Lindisfarne Abbey in Northumbria (carrying off the fictional Athelstan character) and in Season 3:10 Rollo is offered land and the princess Gisla in marriage to defend West Francia from any future Viking raids. The historical attack on Lindisfarne (for which no Viking leader is named) came in 793 CE while the deal brokered between Charles the Simple of West Francia (r. 893-923 CE) and Rollo the Viking chief (r. 911-927 CE) was in 911 CE; Ragnar and Rollo would then be over 100 years old at the time of Rollo's treaty with Charles.

The role historical regions such as Wessex or West Francia played during the Viking Age (c. 790-c.1100 CE) are accurately portrayed in the series but not always the events which took place in those areas.

In most cases, the characters who appear in the show (and the places they live or travel to) did exist but not in every case. The village of Kattegat, for example, which features so prominently, never existed. The real Kattegat is actually a sea between Denmark and Sweden and there is no record of a Scandinavian village by that name anywhere.

The character of Lagertha, although she is mentioned in the Saga of Ragnar Lothbrok, is a minor character, not the mother of Bjorn Ironside, and never was an earl; she is, however, described as an Amazon warrior very much in line with how she is portrayed in the series. The character of Floki is almost wholly fictionalized but is based on the historical figure Floki Vilgerson (9th century CE) who founded Iceland.

Ragnar in History vs TV Show

Ragnar Lothbrok, the main focus in seasons 1-5, may never have existed or, if he did, not as he is presented in the series. He is the hero of the Icelandic epic Saga of Ragnar Lothbrok (13th century CE) who slays a dragon and engages with various other mystical and fantastic elements and entities in the course of his adventures. The present scholarly consensus is that the legendary Ragnar was probably based on the Viking leader Reginherus (also given as Reginfred, 9th century CE) who is known only for the 845 CE Siege of Paris. There are other possible inspirations for Ragnar, however, including King Horik I of Denmark (r. 827-854 CE), who appears as a character in the series.

Other Scandinavian poems, as well as European Latin writers, added to the basic outline of Ragnar's legend which was no doubt transmitted orally until appearing in written form in the 13th century CE. The character in the series shares a number of characteristics with the legendary hero but significant changes are made including:

Marriages – He was first married to Thora (who dies), according to the Saga, or to Lagertha, according to Saxo Grammaticus (13th century CE). After his first marriage ends, he is married to Aslaug, the mother of his famous sons, who he first knew by the name Kraka and who was disguised as a peasant maid. A number of elements from the Saga concerning Kraka/Aslaug appear in the show, especially her gift of second-sight.

Raids on Britain – In the saga, he invades Britain once, (against the advice of Aslaug who predicts his failure) and is killed by King Aella of Northumbria by being thrown into a snake pit (as is seen in the show). He never founds a settlement or has any interaction with a king of Wessex. In Season 3 of the show, Ragnar and his men are hired as mercenaries to fight the uncle and brother of Queen Kwenthryth of Mercia to restore her to power. The sequence in which the Mercian army is lined up on either side of the river, and Ragnar attacks and defeats the smaller force, is taken from accounts of the historical 845 CE raid on Paris in the Annals of St. Bertin (c. 840-880 CE). Reginherus, faced with the same situation, made the same choice; afterwards he hanged 111 Frankish survivors of the battle to instill fear in those on the far side of the river.

Raids on Paris – The series combines historical events from 845 CE and 885-886 CE (the two famous raids/sieges of Paris) but with major departures from fact. In the 845 CE raid, Reginherus and his men found the city almost deserted, were stricken with dysentery, and would have probably left with little if the king, Charles the Bald (r. 843-877 CE), had not offered to pay them off. More of Reginherus' men died of dysentery in the 845 CE siege than in combat.

In 885-886 CE, the Vikings could not breach the walls and the city was defended (as it is in the series) by Count Odo. The character of Gisla, daughter of King Charles in the show, was a young girl at the time of the siege of 885-886 CE (possibly between 5-15 years old), and did not rally the troops or do any of the other things she does in the show.

Rollo of Norway (r.911-927 CE) was no relation to Ragnar Lothbrok and was not present at Reginherus' 845 CE siege but did participate in the 885-886 CE siege, did forge a contract with the king Charles the Simple, married his daughter, and founded Normandy in 911 CE. In Season 4:8-9, the Vikings are seen raising their ships from the Seine and hauling them overland to come at Paris from another direction; this never happened in either of the Paris sieges but Vikings did move their ships overland in the manner depicted at other times and in other locations.

The dramatic scene in Season 3:10 when Ragnar feigns his death, is carried into the cathedral, and then leaps out to kill the cleric and open the gates to his army is taken from legends concerning the Viking chief Hastein (also known as Hasting, 9th century CE) who raided with Bjorn Ironside. Hastein is said to have used this deceit at least twice.

Relationship with Athelstan – There is no record of a Christian monk-turned-Viking-turned-cleric who was the best friend of Ragnar Lothbrok. The most famous Athelstan of this period was the grandson of Alfred the Great (r. 871-899 CE) and the first King of the English (r.927-939 CE).

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