#floki the boatbuilder

[sigridsdottir]

vikings + fave bts pics (2/?)

[therealvikingstrash]

[thyshadowwriter]

Hi! I love your Viking headcanons, but I don’t see anything for Floki! Can you do what Floki would be like with a younger female S/O, how they met and what the relationship is like, how he treats her etc?

A/n: You know, I’ve been wondering why the lack of Floki myself too.

Also, I’m doing this as he never left after avenging Ragnar 🙂

Floki is not going out of his way to have another relationship, he’s in fact actively avoiding it, so she’s making all the push.

They’ll meet through the religious practices. Floki is a devout man, so a woman that has a deep belief in the gods and is comprehensive will call his attention.

Even though, he’ll not make a move. He’s already old and too heartbroken to deal with the dating game. Even if she catches his attention, he isn’t doing a thing about it.

She’ll have to be constant and ready to face his standoffish behavior for quite a good time before he shows any signs he’s returning her affections.

It will be something subtle. A simple conversation or maybe just a look, but from there on her presence will be more welcomed.

As it progresses, he’ll be more open to talk with her, share a story from his past, talk about the Gods walk around with her, let her see him work or just share a silent peaceful moment.

When it reaches that moment, Floki will expect her presence and even hope for it.

Even so, she’ll have to make the first move.

He’ll question why she wants to be with him. He never knew why Helga loved him so much, nor did he feel worthy of it. But at least they were both young, which is definitely not his case now.

The best option to convince him is to simply be truthful about her feelings. It’s likely he’ll need some time before making a decision, but by the time that conversation happens, he’s more accepting of a new relationship.

He comes with baggage, a lot of it. Betrayals, jealousy, defeat, tragedy, pretty much all of it, so she’ll have to have patience to get through his very thick walls.

He also comes with an unofficially adopted son with anger management issues, so she has to know how to work with that.

Floki doesn’t want any more children. He never put his foot down with Helga, letting her have her way and look how that played out for him. His new lover needs to be ok with him not wanting children, either his own or adopted. There’s not a single thought that terrifies him more than that and he would rather not.

She has to be ok with a more secluded life. Floki was always a bit of a hermit and that became much more evident in his late years. Even with all the chaos among the Ragnarssons and the war with Christians, he manages to lead a life quite separated from it.

If she’s alright with all his conditions, Floki will welcome her in his life, if not he’ll break it off before it starts because to him, she’ll come to her senses and find a more suitable man.

Floki was never a ladies man, so she won't have to worry about him straying like his bestie Ragnar.

Love for him will be a slow thing. It will be built day by day, but it will be solid.

He never believed he would have love in his life before Helga and believed it even less after her. Part of him is wary that this is another cruel play on him.

Either way, Floki will be loving and caring. He’s a romantic at heart and as such, fully enjoys spending quality time with her and little gestures of affection.

She’ll never feel unsafe after settling down with him. Not only is he a talented carpenter, he’s also a capable fighter, even in his old years. Few would dare facing him either because they’re afraid of his brutality or because they respect him as the legendary boatbuilder.

His unrivaled talent as a boatbuilder provides him a rather comfortable life and he has no problem providing for her. She’ll live comfortably and have nice things.

Given the age difference, it’s likely there will be times she’ll need guidance and support to face life dilemmas. Floki was never known to be reasonable, or sane, but he lived enough to know better and he can read people like no other, so he’ll be happy to guide her and support her through adversities.

Floki is in another stage of his life. He’s not as brash or as radical as he first was. He’s much more understanding and calm, so a life with him would be quite peaceful.

All in all, it’s a solid relationship and one she would feel secure in, appreciated and loved.

[bouncehousedemons]

Quiet

This was created for the winter solstice event hosted by @vikingsevents for the prompt body heat.

540 word one shot below the cut. Please note this deals with mental health issues. Please do not read if this is triggering to you. Pairing: Floki x Helga.

Helga watches Floki as he works. It is a freezing cold day in Kattegat. The depth of winter holds the city in its icy grasp. Anyone with any sense at all is either inside under furs or in front of a roaring fire.

Not Floki though. Ever the dutiful boatbuilder, he is carving the beasthead that will sit at the prow of his latest creation.

Helga pulls the fur she has draped around her shoulders tighter, to ward off the shivers that rack her body. She would like nothing more than to go home, but she cannot when her husband is out here. She knows he does not possess the sense to realise when it is time to stop and come inside to get warm.

She watches him, concern creasing lines into her eyes and forehead. He works  erratically, and while his gaze is fixed on the task at hand he is not really seeing what he is working on. A snarl pulls at his mouth, a deep frown furrows his brow as he mutters to himself. Helga knows that something is bothering Floki, but she understands better than to ask about it. Floki is a troubled man, plagued by darkness. From all their years together Helga has learned to just be silently there for him and he will eventually talk to her when he is ready. Pushing him to open up only causes him to withdraw further.

Floki is too deep in his own thoughts to notice how cold he is. Thoughts of Ragnar, Athelstan and what the Gods expect of him swirl in his mind. It is all too loud, too much. His hands feel numb. His tools won’t work against the grain of the wood the way that he needs them to. He loses his grip on his chisel as he brings it down against the wood. It clatters to the ground and Floki lets out an anguished howl, falling to his knees, his head in his hands.

Helga hurries to him, wrapping him up in her fur with her and pulling him close. He does not move, it appears he hasn’t registered her presence. He is freezing cold. Guilt washes over Helga. She should have forced Floki to stop ages ago. Truthfully, she knows he would not have listened to her though. Floki has always been a man that plays by his own rules. She rubs her hands over his arms and shoulders in an attempt to warm him up.

As a little warmth begins to return to Floki, he turns to look at Helga. It is as if he is seeing her for the first time. She looks like a Valkyrie to him. Long, flowing flaxen hair falling in soft waves around her pretty face as she holds him to her. His eyes soften, brimming with tears.

“Helga” he says, it is quiet but needy and the weight behind its intent far outweighs the two syllables it comprises.

“I know.” She soothes him. She does not need him to say any more. Coaxing him to lay his head upon her chest, she strokes the sparse scruff of his wild hair.

Helga is warm against Floki. Her embrace feels like home. Suddenly his mind is quiet.

[chaoticjoke]

10 Fandoms/10 Characters/10 Tags

So I assume what I need to do here is list my 10 favorite fandoms and 10 (-ish) favorite characters in each one, right? Okay, here we go.

1. DC

The Joker

Bruce Wayne/Batman

Harley Quinn

Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane

The Ventriloquist and Scarface

Ratcatcher 2

Mime and Marionette

Catwoman

The Valeska Twins

The Batman Who Laughs

2. Marvel

Wanda Maximoff

Loki

Baron Zemo

Yelena Belova

Gambit

Wolverine

Jessica Jones

3. The Boys

Homelander

Soldier Boy

Frenchie

Billy Butcher

Ashley (look at me) Barrett

4. Vikings

Ivar the Boneless

Ragnar Lothbrok

Floki the Boatbuilder

5. Stranger Things

Vecna/Henry Creel

Eleven/El Hopper

Eddie Munson

Max Mayfield

6. The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

Carol Peletier

7. Yellowjackets (I’m obsessed with this show now lol)

Misty Quigley (btw I want a Harley Quinn movie with Christina Ricci)

Natalie Scatorccio

Lottie Matthews

Shauna Sadecki

8. Euphoria

Maddy Perez

Cassie Howard

Fezco (RIP Angus Cloud)

Nate Jacobs ! (btw Jacob Elordi is a big fan of Heath Ledger who was the reason he started acting)

9. American Horror Story

Kai Anderson (yes, season 7 is my fave)

Tate Langdon

Michael Langdon

Madison Montgomery

Misty Day

The Countess

10. Game of Thrones/ House of the Dragon

Daenerys Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Daemon Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Ramsay Bolton

Arya Stark

Honorable mentions/misc. (Fandom / Characters)

Disney / Cruella de Vil

American Psycho / Patrick Bateman

The Vampire Diaries / Katherine Pierce

Skins UK / Effy Stonem

Misfits / Rudy Wade

Twilight / Edward Cullen, Bella Swan

The Big Bang Theory / Sheldon Cooper

Fight Club / Tyler Durden

Saw / John Kramer, Detective Hoffman

Wayne / Wayne McCullough (y’all should watch Wayne)

tagged by: @nightmarefuele tagging: anyone who wants to do this thingie

[jokerous]

get   to   know   me

tagged   by:  the bae @sheldoney

tagging: literally anyone  who  wants  to

what’s   your   phone   wallpaper:  just a pastel pixel aesthetics (I guess it’s a picture of a cartoonish Japanese urban town… I’m not really sure lol)

what’s   the   last   song   you   listened  to:   Ghost - Call me little sunshine (I’m OBSESSED with that song, I’m going to hell)

what’s   the   last   film   you   watched:   Drive (2011)

what’s   the   last   series   you  watched:  currently finishing The Big Bang Theory and Young Sheldon at the same time

what   are   you   craving:   maybe some chocolate chips and pistachios

what   are   you   wearing: my pajamas

how   tall   are   you:   5′7

do   you   have   any   piercings   /  tattoos:  i just have my ears pierced and I’m rarely even wearing earrings these days

do   you   wear   glasses   /   contacts:   i do wear glasses usually at work or where I need to see clearly in the distance. otherwise I don’t mind the blur around me

what   was   the   last   thing   you   ate:  the lunch my mom cooked for me, it was delicious (mashed potatoes and fried chicken in soy sauce)

what   is   your   favourite   colour/s: warm purples

what   is   your   current   obsession/s:   the big bang theory, Joker 2, Barbie, Oppenheimer (right in this order)

do   you   have   any   pets:   no, but if I had, it would be a golden retriever

do   you   have   a   crush:   always

who   is   your   favourite   fictional  character/s:  The Joker, Batman, Harley Quinn, Patrick Bateman, Homelander, Tyler Durden, Edward Cullen, Ivar the Boneless, Floki the Boatbuilder, Daryl Dixon, Loki, Damon Salvatore, Sheldon Cooper (lbr basically toxic alpha males)

where   was   the   last   place   you   travelled:  Moscow

[devoutpriest]

kjollsmithr:

“ hm, SOMETIMES yes, sometimes NO. ” an EMPTY answer, words as AIR (as the BREATH of the trickster, of LOPTR) — floki knows it has not answered the priest’s question, and yet, why SHOULD he? is he BEHOLDEN only because he has drawn close to ragnar? he imagines that ragnar would want them NOT to clash SPARKS off each other, but RAGNAR wants MANY things he cannot have, and floki CARES not for making idle CHATTER with an ÚTLENDR, a foreign one who is NOT of them and whose voice, though he speaks their LANGUAGE passably well now, is still LITTERED with the SHRAPNEL of saxon blood, likening to these saxon soldiers who sneered at their runes, he fighting as a soldier with ragnar to bring peace and prosperity and protection to their village. the utlendr was not a viking warrior, he did not think valholl would think he one, the high one would not think that. for one who is not attuned to THEIR gods — IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR KINDNESS, PRIEST, he wants to say, the storm of thundering in his tree body, SCATHING and SHARP of tongue and gleaming COLD of ferine eye, "YOU WILL NOT FIND IT HERE." he shouts sudden, as athelstan continues to smile at his girl, and now wears a norse arm ring, he seeing ragnar give it to after their first battle together. The spit flying acrid from his mouth, and anger in his eyes. "BE GONE FROM HERE, I HAVE NO GENTLENESS TO OFFER YOU, I AM NOT A GOOD MAN, I AM A BEAST IN MAN’S SKIN AND THERE IS NO SOFT PLACE TO LAND AMONG MY BONES, LEAVE THIS PLACE, GO BACK TO YOUR MASTER WITH YOUR TAIL BETWEEN YOUR LEGS."

perhaps THAT is his struggle — that ATHELSTAN is KIND, still, and that FLOKI is NOT, and that against ALL sense, to his great and GNAWING chagrin, he can SEE why ragnar LIKES the priest so much, and it draws his spit acrid and VILE into his mouth. "AM I TO CALL YOU BROTHER, PRIEST, BECAUSE RAGNAR CARES FOR YOU? I HAVE BEEN HERE, I HAVE KNOWN RAGNAR, MUCH LONGER THAN YOU, ...AND YOU CANNOT TEAR UP MY ROOTS AND... DISPLACE ME WITH SOFT WORDS AND PRETTY EYES." he and ragnar planted and cultivated their farm in the village, watered the plants when the roots were drying. “ do YOU always ask so many questions, priest? ”

Such an EVASIVE answer, teasing it was, but that was Floki’s nature after all. It was one that Athelstan could not glean much from, to continue this conversation that he was attempting, with Floki.

He notes Floki's expression go darker as they spoke, even with his girl at his side, her blonde hair like flickering golden flames in the lit sconces in the fire brackets placed in the wall.

“Does it depend on his mood?” He held the impression that Floki did not wish to speak as much with him, as–well, with Ragnar and the others.

“I…”

He is momentarily without words, Why–Floki was stubborn, uncensored, to a certain point. He hears a guttural sound at length from the other as his hands tremble, cutting into the palm of his hand. he knows from norse linguistic it meant ; an anger of invasion. Leaning back in shock at the violent words scritching through the walls of the boatbuilder's body. His body was shaking with anger, the other, alluding athelstan to be an animal.

“Not always, no," his voice trembles, as he whispers. "I only wish to seek to get to know you better. Without all this animosity between us. I do not wish to get between you and ragnar."

[lisinfleur]

Mistletoe? Misfortune!

The request: A fiction with Floki or Ivar for the following prompt: “Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” - “If I have a knife.” Author’s Notes | Sometimes it is bad luck indeed hahaha I hope you guys like this one! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Floki x Reader, Ivar x Flokisðóttir Info |Modern AU, prompts designed by @honestsycrets for 2019’s Holiday Event Words | 1068 ⁑ Warnings: None

The two of you had done the whole preparation for Christmas together, but Floki was looking around finding anything that could possibly be wrong in his home to get everything perfect for the night.

As long as you knew, Ivar and his brothers would come with Ragnar and his wife to spend the Christmas night with your family and since it was something that would happen once in a lifetime, Floki wanted everything to be perfect for the occasion. And so did you.

Maybe that's why you just didn't care when he asked you to clean the garden with him, even after the two of you had already cleaned almost the whole house, changed the wallpaper, organized the shelves, and, of course, made the traditional cleaning on your attic and basement to find anything old to be donated or tossed away. It was something good for him to have people he loved around for Christmas and you would love to have your house full of good friends for such a warm night, so why not make it comfortable and receive them with a beautiful house as well?

"Mom!" your daughter's voice sounded from the door and you saw she had come with the youngest of the Ragnarssons - a little too early for the Christmas dinner, but not something unwarned at all. You knew Ragnar had called earlier in the morning telling Floki he would send some things for the preparations and his boys would also come early to help the three of you - "and I do not accept no as an answer! They're younger, we put them to work!" - so, it wasn't unexpected that some of them would arrive. You weren't expecting all of them to come but you could see Ubbe had come as well and was closing the car while Hvitserk was, somehow, managing to get your lazy dog up to play - that dog would spend the whole day sat or laid, but whenever Hvitserk come to visit he would instantly get up and shake his tale knowing the boy would have something for him to eat, that fat little thing. Sigurd was coming beside the older one with some bags he picked up from the car.

"They came to help!" your child smiled, with Ivar by her side waving at you two. "Ivar said Björn will come later with more food he went out to buy!"

You waved back, smiling, but Floki frowned with his eyes catching Ivar's free hand landing on your daughter's waist.

"They have been being too close to each other, don't you think?" he complained, annoyed.

And you giggled, knowing Floki didn't want to accept the obvious inclination your daughter had to give her heart to the youngest son of Ragnar.

They had grown the best friends since they were children and you knew your daughter was wrapped around the boy's fingers. Ivar was a good boy, intelligent, strong, and funny when he wasn't in a bad mood. And he was never in a bad mood when your daughter was around so, you chose to get used to the idea of having the Ragnarsson as your soon-to-be son in law - something that your husband was struggling to accept.

"Let them be, Floki," you said, giggling. "They're even cute toge... oh, no. Mistletoe!" you exclaimed when your eyes went back to the garden, finding some mistletoe near your feet.

"What?" Floki answered, coming closer.

“Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” you asked, pointing the bunch of leaves to what Floki smiled like someone who had the best of the ideas.

“If I have a knife,” he said, cutting the mistletoe and bringing you by your hand with him, pinning the plant on top of your door, right over the place where he gently placed you, with that silly smile in his face. "See? Now you owe me a kiss," he joked. "Not bad luck at all!"

You giggled, kissing him softly before coming in to receive the boys and help Sigurd with the bags he was dropping on your kitchen.

"And Björn went out to buy more food?" you asked seeing Sigurd nodding. "God, how much does your father thinks we eat?"

"It's not about you, it's about him," Sigurd pointed Hvitserk as Ubbe was standing beside your husband.

"We'll help with the garden, don't worry," Ubbe offered.

To what Hvitserk jumped almost instantly.

"We?" he asked, already tasting some of the cookies you had done earlier, "'We' is more than one, Ubbe," he said filling his mouth with some more cookie, "Sigurd and I were prone to help with the kitchen matters..."

"Which means me helping aunt Y/N to cook and Hvitserk playing the sommelier," Sigurd rolled his eyes and Hvitserk smiled.

"Quite what I was thinking!" Hvitserk finished, having his ear "gently" pulled by his older brother, being carried towards the house entrance.

"Garden with me, Hvitserk. Now," Ubbe sentenced his fate.

"I'll pick up the tools for us to work," Floki said, indicating he would go back to the garden work with the brothers as you would help Sigurd and probably your daughter with the kitchen.

But where was your daughter?

"I'm sure it's mistletoe," you heard Ivar's voice calling you and Floki's attention towards the door where your daughter was shyly smiling standing under the doorway while Ivar was analyzing the piece of mistletoe Floki had just placed there. "Which means... I'll earn a kiss, right?"

Your husband almost exploded an eyeball, you could ensure it by the vein visible on the side of his face and his fists clenched as your daughter gently leaned forward, cupping Ivar's face with all the tenderness of the world and kissing him softly before drawing back fully red, leaving a smile on the boy's face in what was the sweetest moment of that Christmas for you until now.

His brothers were smiling and even Sigurd couldn't deny a smile for that sweet scene.

But Floki was still steaming when you held his hand, leaning your head to lay in his shoulder.

"Let them be, Floki. She loves him... And I'm quite certain he loves her back," you said, hearing when Floki sighed, defeated.

"Nah... You were right... Mistletoe is bad luck indeed, after all. Bad bad luck. Bad-luck!" he repeated, reinforcing it, causing you to giggle amused.

That would be some funny Christmas night after all...

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[sigridsdottir]

vikings + fave bts pics

[thyshadowwriter]

Lost & Found. Chapter 12.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: doubts and mistrust pile up easily when you’re in a foster home, in a foreign place, with a prince that you cannot figure out. 2.4k words.

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

P.S.: I’m so very sorry for the *late* update, had a car accident XD

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

After the argument, Revna briskly walked away until she reached the outskirts of Kattegat. The whole exchange with Ivar was so out of the blue, she was left confused to the point of being disoriented. The worst part was that Revna didn’t know why Ivar argued with her.

Eventually, she reached the beach, sat down, occasionally drawing on the sand. Trying to understand the root of that argument was pointless by now; she missed a lot of what he said, but she understood the accusations. She was trying to be careful in not doing things that could tarnish her image and put her in a precarious situation, only to have that come right from the person she thought everything was alright. Whatever prompted Ivar to demean her in such a way, was a wild guess.

It made no sense at all, but maybe there was no need for it. Ivar, Ubbe and Sigurd were all royalty, they could change their disposition with the wind and all would be fine. She was just a stranger who had a lucky strike to not be there as a slave, yet. They probably regarded her as an oddity and could do whatever they wanted to her and no one, save maybe for Helga, would be bothered.

As dusk approached, it was time to head back to Helga’s home. It was getting cold, too cold, hopefully, Helga wouldn’t ask too much and she wouldn’t have to say anything. On the way back she heard that strangely pitched voice from the boatbuilder calling her name.

Floki was probably the tallest man she ever saw and easily one of the strangest. He was never hostile to her, much less harmed her, but Revna was aware he only put up with her because of his wife. Once Helga grew tired of her, he would kick her out of his house in the blink of an eye. Then she would be another of the many slaves that filled the whole city, if not one of the skulls that Floki decorated his workplace. Neither prospect was enticing and after the argument with Ivar, she was feeling as vulnerable and alone as when she first saw the couple. It took effort to maintain her composure and not betray the shiver that ran down her spine as he approached her with his unique gait.

When Floki was close, he leaned down to reach her level, looking at her with that always intense gaze.

“Where have you been? It’s almost night.”

“The beach.”

“All this time?”

“Most of it.”

Floki sighed, tilting his head to the side, still looking at her. Revna hoped his distant disposition towards her worked in her favor and he wouldn’t ask anything.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you continue with this.”

She didn't answer him, there wasn’t anything to be said, but he insisted:

“You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you keep doing it. I don’t know what to do with you.”

Revna didn’t say anything in her defense. After a while, Floki put a hand over her shoulder and they began walking.

“Let’s head back home. Before you catch something.”

When they arrived, Helga was pacing back and forth in front of the house and as soon as she spotted them she ran in their direction and held Revna by her shoulders before embracing her in a tight hug. Revna could hear the woman’s fast heartbeat against her ear and awkwardly returned the embrace. Helga’s concern was thankfully enough to shadow any other question.

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

In the following morning, Revna woke up to the scent of breakfast, reluctantly leaving the warm comfort of the bed to follow it to where Helga was cooking.

“Morning, my child.” Helga greeted with a gentle smile and her apparently never ending kindness.

“Morning, Helga.”

She only briefly met Helga’s gaze before reaching her hands close to the pot for warmth, missing entirely how Helga’s smile faltered.

“You want to help?”

“Yes.”

Helga handed her the spoon and instructed:

“Keep stirring it. I will set the table.”

It was how their typical routine began. Floki prepared for another day of work, while Helga kept the house running. The couple had a silent understanding of each other that was clear to see and she couldn’t help but feel like an intruder on their intimacy.

After a while Helga asked her:

“How’s Ivar?”

The question wasn’t new, but it unnerved Revna that day. She wasn’t blind to not see Ivar was close to that couple, they would discover sooner or later, but she would rather it be later.

Floki, who typically didn’t show much interest in their conversations, paid close attention:

“He will be good soon. I think.”

Unexpectedly, Floki giggled, almost spilling his mead. Revna looked at him puzzled, but Helga was pleased.

“You meant ‘better’,” Floki corrected her, “he will be better soon”

“Better,” she repeated after him, “he will be better soon.”

Floki kept paying attention, while Helga continued the conversation:

“That is great. Aslaug will be relieved. She loves Ivar greatly and suffers when he’s in pain.”

“Will you meet with Ivar today, Revna?” Floki inquired, sounding almost as normal as always, but he made a point to emphasize her name.

“If he wishes.”

“It is good that you two are getting along. You are learning, and it would be good for Ivar to have a friend.” Helga chimed in.

Floki remained silent, but his weird look made Revna uncomfortable. He was a strange man overall, but somehow his sudden interest was even stranger.

As they finished the breakfast, Helga sat close to Revna to braid her hair. She never let Revna leave with her hair undone, even if it was a ‘simple’ style. After that, Revna left as if nothing had changed, but she wouldn’t go anywhere near Ivar or his brothers. She would do everything in her ability to not bump into any of them. They were toying with her, whatever the game was, she didn’t like it.

She didn’t count the days since she last saw Ivar, but she succeeded in her endeavor. Although the hours passed much slower without Ivar’s company and it was much too evident the loneliness of her predicament, it gave her time to think.

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

When Ivar recovered, he left the confines of his house as soon as he could, much to everyone's relief. Everyone was used to the short, unpredictable temper Ivar had, everyone knew it got worse when his legs forced him to stay inside, but this time he became downright terrible. Aslaug was thankful to the gods both for her son's recovery and because all that she had to replace was a few broken utensils, not a new slave. It was hard to find good ones.

Meanwhile, the rumors ran wild among the thralls. The visits from the odd girl didn’t go unnoticed and while nobody knew how the two met, everyone had bets on why she never returned. Some even speculated she was dead since no one saw her again, some speculated she would be dead once Ivar could leave.

Ivar, however, had enough time to think about everything since that day and he was angry. He was mad at Sigurd for interfering with his matters and mad at himself for taking the bait. It was obvious Sigurd would want to spoil something nice for him, yet he fell for the trick like an idiot. His intelligence was the one thing that put him above his brothers and the one he took great pride in, to be made a fool wasn’t something he was going to let go.

As to Revna, it unnerved him that he hadn’t heard a word about her. Logically, Ivar knew she would be fine under Helga and Floki’s care, but the lack of news bothered him. It was also bothering him what Sigurd and Revna could possibly have talked about and why she didn’t say anything, but he was going to discover it one way or the other. She didn’t know how his brothers were and if not for Ubbe and that coat-to-be wolf, he would have kept them away from her longer. It was unlikely Revna was aware of Ivar’s infamy, he doubted she would be at ease with him if she did, but he knew Sigurd would go an extra length to make a mockery out of him.

But he would see to Sigurd later. he wanted to mend things, so he headed to Floki’s home first thing in the morning.

Once he sighted their house, he kept hidden and waited for Revna to leave to follow her quietly.

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

Ivar followed Revna all the way to the beach. It was easy to keep hidden as she wasn't really paying attention to her surroundings. Once there, she chose a nice spot and sat down, taking a stick to draw on the sand. It was curious to see her when she thought she was alone, that deep in thought and distracted, so unlike her usual demeanor. Ivar could spend quite a while studying her if he wasn’t concerned with setting things straight.

He crawled to her and it wasn’t until he was fairly close that she took notice of him. When she did, she froze, staring at him with wide eyes like he was an apparition. By the time she came back to her senses, he was already sitting by her side.

“Revna.”

“Ivar.” She returned the greeting after a while, but it wholly lacked the joy he became familiar with.

Revna’s drawing caught Ivar’s attention. It was quite detailed and he was genuinely curious to know what it was about. It would serve as a good starter as well.

“What is it that you’re drawing?”

“Nothing of importance.”

She sounded detached, almost not there at all. He insisted:

“It’s nothing, yet you’re drawing it.”

She didn’t say anything, still staring at him as if not convinced he was there. Ivar urged her to answer:

“Tell me. Tell me what it is.”

Ivar almost thought she wouldn't talk to him at all, but alas, she did:

“There is a city…” she pointed with the stick, “much, much far from here. Great, rich. Different people trade here. Made of stone. Colorful… Many beautiful fabric… gold…”

She stopped. She usually did that when she couldn’t find the right words, but he wasn’t entirely sure that was all to it.

“Are you from there?”

“No.”

“Then why draw it?”

“Memory. It is good to remember places. Or you forget. One day, I may remember Kattegat elsewhere.”

Ivar was taken aback. He thought by now she would have accepted her fate, to hear that she considered leaving Kattegat struck him almost like betrayal. How could she? The goods were generous to show her the truth; she was adopted by one of the most faithful people he knew of, how could she not see how blessed she was?

With a quick swipe, Ivar wiped the drawing.

“Why?”

“The gods gave you a chance to live with us, to learn the truth yet you think of abandoning it?” He spoke with more heat than what he planned to do.

“I do not” she replied sharply “they put me here, they may put me elsewhere.”

So she did acknowledge the gods and their will, but her conclusion was what he didn’t like.

Annoyed and without another word, Revna prepared to stand up.

“Wait, where are you going?” Ivar asked, grabbing her hand before she could leave.

“Away.”

“Don’t. Stay. I want to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Sit down.” Ivar said nicely, though his grip hadn’t loosened.

She obeyed and only when she was back to sitting at his side he released her hand. Revna remained in silence and so, Ivar spoke:

“What happens in the future is for the gods to decide. You should not tempt them.”

“They may… regardless.”

“You don't know that. They were generous in bringing you here, so don't speak like that.”

She didn't answer, so Ivar cut the chase and went straight to what was bothering him:

“Why haven’t you told me you met Sigurd?”

“He did not say he was your brother.”

“He never spoke about me? Not even once?”

“No.”

Ivar kept gauging her expression to decide if she was lying or not, but shining through was her annoyance. Had Sigurd badmouthed him to her, it wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest, but that he didn’t bothered Ivar. It was not like Sigurd to waste an opportunity to humiliate him.

“Why haven’t you told me?”

“You did not let.”

“You didn’t understand. Why haven’t you told me before?”

“Why? It was… mundane.”

“How so?”

She looked at him confused, so he tried again:

“What did you talk about?”

“Music. Nothing of importance. Mundane things.”

“Music?” Ivar asked, half amused.

“Yes. He plays an oud. I did not think one here. Too far. Too strange.”

In another moment, Ivar would have inquired about her interest in music and know more of her, but as of now his mind was working on figuring out Sigurd’s plan. He didn’t believe for a single second Sigurd’s interest in Revna was innocent, if she was telling the truth, he liked the appearance of it even less.

“I do not know what I did bad.” Revna interrupted his thoughts.

“‘What I did wrong’, you meant.” Ivar corrected her “Nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

“I do not understand.” She stated, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. He wanted to reach for her but she likely would slap his hand away.

“Of course you don't. You don't know my brothers.”

“I did not know he was your brother!”

“I heard you.”

Revna looked at him completely at loss. Of course she didn’t know about the strained relationship between him and Sigurd, that would be a long explanation and one he wanted to delay.

She parted her lips and Ivar waited for her to question him, but after a moment, she gave up whatever she wanted to say. They stood in silence, both of them not knowing what to speak next. It was probably a couple of minutes that felt dragged to both of them before Revna decided to speak:

“Goodbye, Ivar.”

[bouncehousedemons]

Fermented Fool

My entry for day two of @vikingsevents Valentine's week prompts. Day two is wine.

Pairing: Floki & Ragnar (non romantic) Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of drunkeness and violence. Word count: ~600

“And what do you have there, Floki?” Ragnar juts his chin towards the vat of liquid that sits on the open fire.

The boatbuilder giggles, a mischievous grin lighting up his features as he gives the concoction a stir. “Courage to get our anchor, you will see!”

Earlier that morning Floki had mixed water, wild yeast, a little honey and blackberries together and had spent half the day tending to it. Ideally, he’d like to ferment the fruit wine for a while longer, however, time was of the essence today.

The wine is still warm when Floki serves it out into two horn cups. Both men wince as they take a sip. It is overly sweet and far too strong. However, by the time half the vat is gone the taste no longer matters, and the worry of Earl Haraldson discovering their plans is long forgotten.

A few days prior, Ragnar had given Floki the last of his money to pay a blacksmith to make them an anchor. It was to be used on a boat that Ragnar would sail to England in. The Earl had the sole monopoly on ships. As such, he and he alone determined where they'd sail and with who aboard. If he were to discover their plans there would be dire consequences for all involved.

“Sit down before you fall down, you fool.” Ragnar slurs, head thick with the effects of the blackberry wine.

Floki’s lanky gait is unsteady as he paces around the fire, awaiting the arrival of the blacksmith with their anchor.

“We must be ready!” Floki says, slopping wine onto the ground as he gestures exaggeratedly towards Ragnar. “He could arrive at any moment.”

“What if your blacksmith has betrayed us?” Ragnar asks, swaying slightly as he stands. The sound of wheels crunching across the ground can be heard in the distance.

“He won’t.” Floki smirks down at his friend. “He gave his word.”

“Maybe your blacksmith is a liar.” 

Ragnar’s breath is hot against Floki’s neck, and Floki can smell the blackberries on his breath as he leans up to him. Floki feels the cold edge of a blade pressed against his throat and winces slightly. He’d feel afraid if he wasn’t so drunk.

“I don't think so.” Floki smiles, producing a lock of long blonde hair from his pocket between two dexterous fingers. “This hair is from his daughter's head. I promised him that if he went to Earl Haraldson, I would find a way to kill her.”

Ragnar visibly relaxes as the blacksmith’s cart rolls into view. He pulls the knife away from Floki’s throat, giving him a sideways glance as the boatbuilder titters at him.

To their relief, the blacksmith has kept true to his word and in the back of his cart is the anchor Floki had paid him to make, alongside his frightened looking daughter.

Floki ambles towards the cart, as Ragnar looks on in mild amusement and disbelief. Reluctantly the blacksmith catches the lock of hair with obvious confusion, as Floki tosses it towards him and begins unloading the anchor.

Once the blacksmith is on his way again, the two men sit by the fire looking at the anchor - such a simple, uninteresting thing, and yet it is the key to new horizons for both of them.

“Is there more of that disgusting wine?” Ragnar nods towards the vat.

“There is.” Floki nods. “But why do you want it? The deal is done.”

“Not for courage.” Ragnar says slyly. “Now we are celebrating.”

[brightlycoloredteacups]

'Sounds illegal... I'm in.' Hvitserk or Floki

You stand up, feeling rage run through you, you intended has just left you for another woman. She isn’t prettier than you, but she’s ‘softer’ than you, to put it in his words. Your friends had gathered around you in your trying time, doing what friends do, getting you shit faced and making you forget he ever existed. “I’m going to kill him,” You announce. The men and women around you cheer. “I’m going to cut his heart out and eat it.” You hear Floki giggle behind you. 

He’s just as drunk as you are. Throwing a hand over you shoulder he ksises your cheek. “Sounds illegal…I’m in.” You throw your own arm around Floki. “We shall go kill him together!” You announced. You both walk arm in arm, intent on spilling blood. 

[devoutpriest]

kjollsmithr:

head ANGLES atop neck’s column, akin to the eagle that flies across valholl's plains, rolling IDLY betwixt half-wiry, half-SKELETAL shoulders, leaving some vaguely PREDATORY echo in the wake of the gesture, reverberating albeit IMPLICIT; yet, perhaps for helga’s sake, or PERHAPS for his own, floki does not SNAP — reaches, at least, for a SUPERFICIAL IMITATION of aff- -ability, stemming from the GENTLED curl of helga’s fingers at his KNEE, their language without words. BE NICE. they spoke non-verbally in words and actions, her hands soft. SLIGHT tremor in his exhale is a response of its own, THAT MAY REQUIRE ME TO BE SOCIABLE, he thinks -- angry at this stranger for showing affection to his girl, but after a beat or two of RISKY, untrustworthy heart he does nod, at least APPEAR to ease off minutely, GRASPING at the mask he needs must wear, here, and SMOOTHING it onto the harsher, WILDER set of his features, the kohl he dappled onto his face from draugr.

“ mm, it is said, ” he concedes, a statement of FACT more than aught else — PERHAPS read as a certain false and GUILEFUL modesty, in the absence of OVERTLY expressed pride, but floki does not LINGER, does not dwell. (the PRIEST will think what he WISHES — floki has his boats, and helga, and his TRUER friends, and the opinions of a wayward, LOST, christian are little or NOTHING to him.) he hates the christian for the persecution of their kind, they reading their tome called the bible and setting forth with their flaming torches to burn ancient temples and altars the aesir blessed on plains like idavoll. still, a PART of him notes the slightly irksome OBVIOUSNESS of the statement — who ELSE but HE would build such ships, he who has had sawdust and splinters littering his hands, his skin, since he had BARELY reached the age of ten-and-two, he who KNOWS the depth and speed of their waters, the rocks that LITTER the shore, how broad and sturdy a sail must be to SEIZE their northern winds and make BEST use of them? (albeit, in the SAME breath, the vague irony that kattegat’s boatbuilder is as INTIMATE with the seas as he might be with a lover, yet cannot SWIM, HARDLY escapes his notice. he likes the beauty of the sea, feels the waves as he sails on his ship. ) “ thor may beat his anvil, but he takes more PLEASURE than you might think from ships that do not BREAK. ”

SUCH MODESTY… Was it not? Each time that he thought to speak to Floki, while he suspected evident suspicion on him, there was also an aura of mystery shrouded within as well.

When Athelstan thought to do so, he once or twice examined the boats more carefully, admiring the intricacies woven into them, to be so immensely sturdy. “True. It’s almost like a TEST of strength, isn’t it?”

The mention of Thor made a wry smile form across his lips. Thor was felt most POWERFULLY, rattling his bones to the core now, the god of thunder and rain, an ambiguous yet welcomed force to be RECKONED with, descended from the almighty Heavens, just like what he used to feel with God.

“Does he oft like to beat his anvil–that is, create wild, unrelenting storms–when your boats are out in sea?”

[brightlycoloredteacups]

Hi! Can I request Floki with a witch? Pretty please?:D

He’s seen you wander around the forest for days now. He’s half convinced you’re not real. The other half is convinced you’re a goddess of some sort. Whatever the case, he dreams of your at night. He wants to take you into his arms and face eternity. He’s in love with you and he doesn’t even know your name. 

He’s in the middle of bathing when he sees you standing on the shore. You both stare at each other, taking in each others looks. He knows instinctively, you’re real, but you’re no goddess. “Witch,” He mutters. You nod, smiling. “You’ve come to curse me, haven’t you?” You shrug your shoulders, trying to maintain an air of mystery. He reaches for you, shaking slightly. He’ll take whatever curse you’ll give him. So long as you never leave him. 

[platypusisnotonfire]

Floki from Vikings is 1000% autistic look at mr special-interest-in-boatbuilding go.

[popcorn1989]

Witcher:

Cahir - 0:53 mins

Cahir - 2:14 mins

Cahir - 1:13 mins

Rience - 0:48 mins

Rience - 0:36 mins

Rience - 0:55 mins

Rience - 0:54 mins

Vikings:

Ivar x Hvitserk - 0:54 mins

Ivar x Heahmund - 1:53 mins

Ivar the Boneless - 2:32 mins

Ivar the Boneless - 0:55 mins

Ivar the Boneless - 2:42 mins

Hvitserk Ragnarsson - 1:42 mins

Hvitserk Ragnarsson - 0:56 mins

Floki the Boatbuilder - 2:19 mins

The last Kingdom:

Osferth - 0:47 mins

Sihtric - 1:40 mins

Mix:

Cahir + Rience - Eamon + Chris - 1:03 mins

Eamon Farren + Chris Fulton - 0:34 mins

Chris Fulton x Eamon Farren - 0:45 mins

Other Videos:

Siberian education - 1:49 mins

Harmony x Jimmy - 2:19 mins

Chris Fulton - 1:21 mins

Chris Fulton - 1:19 mins

Chris Fulton - 0:53 mins

Chris Fulton - 0:39 mins

Ferg x Stewart - 0:30 mins

Ferg x Stewart - 1:43 mins

Ferg x Stewart - 1:12 mins

Avi Kaplan - 2:18 mins