#ivar is kinda complicated to write

[easilyaddictedin123]

Clashing of Wilds and Blood

Part 1 : https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/162841562811/clashing-of-wilds-and-blood

Part 3: https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/163108659911/clashing-of-wilds-and-blood

This can also be read on my AO3 : http://archiveofourown.org/works/11465187/chapters/25705545

A small warning for minor violence! Also shout out to @holy-minseok for the words of encouragement thank you so much!

Pt 2

You took a deep breath, settling into the warm water letting your hair billow around you. Ecbert would take many days to return and no doubt tear Aethelwulf apart for his decision. From what you gathered Ragnar was friend to the King, ally at least, and for his wounds it would be a healthy cost. The lavender scented water soothed your thoughts of Northmen with black hair and startling blue eyes. Such eyes. Feral, vibrant, challenging. Yes, challenging. What an interesting game he'd offered.

It crossed your mind to ask his father but that felt like cheating, “Where is your mind little lamb?”

Maude’s hands carefully pulled your hair out of the water to dry and plait it. You'd been acting strange since yesterday, nothing noticeable to many but to the woman who'd raised you the signs were blaring. The brush was soothing as it combed through your hair, a noncommittal hum answered her.

“It wouldn't have anything to do with the Lordship’s prisoners, now would it?” you could practically hear the disapproving look, “that'd be an extremely dangerous game for m’lady to toy with.”

“Why do you ask questions when you know the answer?” she scoffed at your tone,  “besides it's just a game.”

“Games like this tend to have fatal consequences. But you're still going to do as you please.” Maude shook her head and sighed aloud, “You're too much like your mother, she liked to play with fire too.”

“Really?” it was rare that Maude spoke of her.

“Mhm, always running about trying to push whatever limits that were set for her. “ -the tug on your hair didn't hurt as she continued the nostalgic story- “ Genoveve thought that to be a woman, a true woman, was to bring herself as high as she could to catch God's eye. For the angels to look down and know her so when she was forgiven and sent to Heaven she could speak to them as friends.”

“Do you think it worked? Sounds like she was a terrible sinner.” Maude barked out a sharp laugh at that.

“God forgives all, she would tell me, then be on time for mass on Sundays to ask for it. But if you're asking me, yes, for her sake if nothing else. I loved your mother dearly and I'll tell you what I told her. Rules in life are set for a reason. To be broken or followed who are we to say?”

You bit your lip nervously, “It's about them. They're just so different and the way they think is bizarre.”

“They're fascinating.” she tapped your arm and offered your towel, “ Be it far from me to think you won't continue to see them.”

You slipped on the deep blue dress on with its gold belt framing your hips, and slipped on your shoes. You had to tell Ragnar about his son like promised then speed of back to his son to play this imaginary chess game.

“Y/N.” Aethelwulf’s voice grated on your nerves but you stopped nonetheless and turned to face him.

“Yes, brother?” His face deepened at the title still thinking you unworthy of the status you’d been given on birth.

“A little bird told me something disturbing, my ‘beloved’ “he snarled out the word, “sister-in-law was creeping into the dungeons. It would be a true shame to your name and the name of King Aelle.”

“In that fact, remember who you are speaking at. I am not some mewling whelp and I’ll do as I please when it comes to m-” You expected the slap, you mouth had often gotten you worse, but not the force that sent you stumbling against the long table.

“Do not forget that being Father’s wild child daughter-in-law doesn’t give you full reign and you will not disrespect me. You will not go back down there, you should be punished but be thankful that King Aelle has use for you if it were I -” You cut him off spitting the taste of iron out of your mouth.

“But I am not, and do not forget that.” You let your tongue run against the busted lower lip, it could have been worse considering Judith’s ear and Aethelwulf’s temper.

You couldn’t possibly see Ragnar now with his steadfast guards to man the door to the Northman’s cage at the risk of more than a busted lip. You turned back to the hall making your way to the east wing if you couldn’t speak to Ragnar then his nameless son would; talking to him was safer too. The same guards held position at his door so getting in wasn’t a problem, the door opened and quietly enough to not disturb the sleeping man on his plank.

He looked tense even in slumbering part of you thought that he might even have slept with a weapon. You were quiet in moving to get close enough to actually see him, the light spilling in gave him a kind of foreign look almost like a stolen secret. You supposed in part that he was stolen from his land or did he come here willing you weren’t exactly sure, you’d leaned over too close to him. Calloused fingers gripped onto your arm hard enough to where you wouldn’t be surprised if it broke causing a slight yelp to escape your mouth. His eyes were still sleep ridden and for the barest of moments you wanted to see what he did before those striking eyes cleared.

Your arm would be bruised from the grip no doubt as he released it while growling something out in his language, you rubbed your wrist lightly to try and ease the burn. Ivar’s eyes slowly took in your form. Your deep blue dress, braided hair, face pinched in pain with a busted lip. He rubbed his temples fighting off the memory of waves crashing into the boat, screams of the dead reaching from the depths while his lungs burned. He instead focused on the woman in front of him that was trying to soothe the harm he’d caused.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” Despite the pain that the smile must have caused you offered him it regardless.

“It is a morning.” He gruffed not caring or noticing the nickname, his accent thicker and voice more gravelly it was a pleasant sound after a harsh morning.

You lifted up the front of your dress skirt just slightly to sit down in front of him, “So I thought to go ask your father about your name but that didn’t go as expected besides it’s not fair to our game. So shall I guess?”

“You are very much awake.” He sat up against the wall scrubbing at his face at your attitude that reminded him much of a pup.

“The sun is up and so am I, besides we’ve a game to play.” You smiled up at his still dreary face.

“Good luck.” The smirk settled onto his face that had a way of infuriating you but at the same there was something almost playful in the look.

“I’ve met people named after plants so you’re going to have to teach me some of your words.” He raised an eyebrow at that but ceded, “What’s the word for sky?”

“Himmel.” The word rolled off his tongue with ease unlike the choppiness that cut through the air when he spoke to you.

After a few hours of playing with various words and names he was becoming more and more entertained at the frustration nearly erupting from your bones. You hadn’t stomped your foot like a child although you wanted nothing more. It was his fault. His smug face. Arrogant look in his eyes. Teasing grin when you got it wrong. It was his fault and it was maddening and enticing. It was keeping you from noticing the time flowing by until the door opened and you leapt under the plank in the only dark spot you knew, keeping safe behind the shield of his legs hanging over the side.

Ivar scowled at the walking crypt that held his mid-day feast. Roast, potatoes, carrots and breads. She also sat down a pitcher and two glasses. Maude looked over the boy with a critical eye taking in everything from how he sat, the lines of displeasure seated on his face and the tightening of his hands on the plank edge. Even more the spread of dark blue peeking into the sunlight from under the dark of the plank.

“Next time you decide to hid little lamb don’t leave your dress edge in the way.” She listened to you groan and crawl halfway out to turn onto your back.

“You could find dirt in the snow.” Ivar looked at you while you accused the woman, he had to admit to the sight below him.

Your hair had loosened but not fallen out of it’s braid as you lay upon the ground, the sun splashing on your face lighting it up to let shadows play down your collar bone and the valley between your breasts that looked close to falling out of the dress. It had been tugged down by your flinging and flopping about.

You could feel the gaze on you yet it wasn’t as calculating as it was when you were learning various words to try and put one to his name, this felt close to appraising in nature. You finally tilted your head to face him, a brilliant smile on your face there was no seduction in your eyes. No lying. It was new and terrifying to him at the same time. Despite your busted lip or maybe because of it there was a kind of otherworldly glow on your skin and twining through your hair. The sun. He blamed it on the sun. There was no other reason he looked. No other reason.

Despite being an ocean and more away he could swear that there was a part of him that was rolling its eyes and looking suspiciously like Ubbe, he was brought out of the musing by a sharp clearing of a throat. The old woman had a ferociously grim look set on her aged appearance, Y/N jumped too maybe she was looking just as intensely?

“Your food m’lady to share with your” -Maude tried to find a word besides prisoner- “Your guest.”

“Thank you, Maude.” The voice was dismissive as you glared at the woman trying to get her out of the room faster.

Maude was hesitant to leave. She’d seen it. That pass of emotions slipping from person to person. It was new and breaching but it was there, Genoveve looked at the King Aelle once like there. As if there was something like an ember in the other, something capturing the hooks of her mistress’ being to drag her down into the darkness and crush her. The prisoner being a heathen or not. There was something else though in his that wasn’t in the King’s, where King Aelle had been deceptive interest, this blue gaze was cautious interest. That made it all the more dangerous.

“I’ll be back within the hour.” It sounded more like a warning than an assurance.

You finally twisted and twined further from the plank and Ivar resisted the urge to choke at the motion jostling you back and forth with your groan of frustration. He blamed it on being in four walls with nothing but his own mind, he didn’t want to admit to the voice that had yesterday called him a liar now saying that you weren’t bad company. Christian aside, a faith that you didn’t seem truly committed to in the first place, there might be something hypnotic.

“Seems like Maude tracked me down again.” You scoffed brushing off the dirt from your dress, “ She was always good at it.”

You walked over to sit next to him offering him half the plate, he hadn’t been fed since they’d dragged him away, and the pitcher next to you with what smelled like sweet wine. He tore into the roast while you poured the wine and offered it. He took a gulp and scrunched his nose at the taste making you laugh.

“Why do you drink this? It taste rotten. No ale.” That made you snicker and shake your head.

“No ale.” His lips tugged downwards at the revelation but still continued to eat around your hands that grabbed for food; the quiet wasn’t deafening, it wasn’t uncomfortable, there was a serenity in the occasional snort of impatience.

A glance from the rim of the cup that splashed against your tongue with sweetness nearly made you gag, you couldn’t smother the laughter that escaped when you swiftly gulped down the rest of the wine. Ivar had made slight mess of himself, the gravy sticking to his fingers and where they touched on his cheeks. He looked childish, more human and less terrifying Northman.

He licked his finger still not noticing until you reached over, he jerked back with a look of suspicion, “I’m not going to poison you by trying to get gravy off your face.”

Ivar did not blush, he was a Viking, he was a warrior but regardless you leaned over and he didn’t move, the blue fabric was soft and came away dirty but you just shook it off and continued to drink. The metal resting carefully above your lower lip to not break open the wound again.

“Why did it happen?” You raised an eyebrow at the look of inquiry, seemingly lost as you sat the wine down, it stopped when a calloused finger barely brushed over your lip.

To your credit you didn’t jump instead sat slightly transfixed at how hands that were so rough were surprisingly easy with the heated flesh under their brush, “My mouth tends to get me into trouble, so sometimes I get reprimanded.”

“You’re husband?” You scoffed at the word as Ivar picked up a piece of carrot and popped into his mouth.

“My sister’s husband, Aethelwulf likes to remind me of being a bastard.” You shrugged now finding the seams more interesting than him.

“Bastard? But you’re someone at least by your hands you are, why are you hit?” You gave a half hearted shrug.

“Just because I was taken in and given position I’m still a woman, not like I can do much against it.” Ivar scowled not understanding how someone so vibrant and full of everything could hollow out in a moment to someone helpless.

“You could fight back.” He watched you wince slightly but there was appeal to the thought.

“With what? My wit, I think we both see where that leads me.” You smirked trying to brush off the grave atmosphere with a playful tone.

“What good is your God if he doesn’t protect you?” Ivar smirked at the look of confusion and thought trying to come up with something to say.

There wasn’t anything you could come up with and he enjoyed seeing the small seed of doubt settled into your mind even if you were going to brush it away it would come back, “What would your Gods do?”

“My Gods let our women fight. They’re fierce and battle with us in raids and in the wars of land. The Goddess Freyja fights as well riding into battle where her Valkyries take half of the slain to her house.” He watched wonder cross your face and there was a slight outrage in the back of his mind by how eager you were to know of a woman who could defend herself.

“She takes half of the dead? So they go to your Heaven.” Ivar scooted back to settle comfortably against the wall as best he could.

“What is Heaven?” After long explanations filled with pointed laughter on both of your causes brought him to a question, “What is sin? You Christians say it so much, but I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s an immoral act against God’s law, like lying, or stealing or killing.” Ivar derided at the idea, “ You’ll go to Hell if you commit a sin and are not forgiven.”

Before he could tell you how ridiculous the idea of such things sending one to Hel was the old woman -Maude he reminded himself- walked back in, “It’s time to leave your guest, it’s nearing feast and I’ve let you escape today’s duties long enough.”

You groaned in an unladylike manner to further irritate her, “Fine, but I’ll be back to talk tomorrow.” ,you leaned slightly over, “If not sooner.”

He watched you stand and brush yourself off, throwing your braid over your shoulder with Ivar slightly resisting the urge to see if it was soft but touching it.

“What will we talk about?” He questioned as you got to the door, Maude walking ahead of you.

“Let us talk of Sin, but until then I bid you good eve. Nobody.” He watched you walk out with the thoughts how many sins could one commit that would damn them and why would they be damned for dying well and living life at it’s fullest? He was back in his dark room, the sun having lowered to cast only an orange glow instead of the bright one that left with you, it was colder save for the wood plank that had warmth still clinging to it. The name of Nobody was confusing as well, he’d have to question it. He could see that you were almost a slave to the God but yet you were a form of royalty at the least. Regardless he was willing to contradict you and your sins.

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

Do you think there is a problem with modern au Ivar fics where his disability is nonexistent or is replaced with a temporary injury? I have come across a few of these and while the writer often takes something away from Ivar's character (unless they can find a suitable alternative to drive his aggression and pain), i did not see a problem in terms of sensitivity. Do you find these fics ableist or just boring/poorly characterized?

(p1)Any supernatural au examples would require Ivar to be physically intact (though vampire or werewolf transition could be set after a backstory involving his disability). Some mobster au’s remove his disability, though i think that takes away a big part of his character. Although, several business au’s keep his disability but make the character somewhat softer. In my opinion, the background, species and additional characters in an au all affect any character

(p2) just as much as the introduction or removal of a disability, as the measure in which variables affect a character need to be adjusted according to the characters’ personality. Think of it like taking a different route to get to the same destination. However, removing Ivar’s disability in any fic not in an au would not work well. When keeping Ivar in the Viking era, the only change would be the disability so the figurative road would be forked, changing his character altogether.

I’m putting all your questions together because frankly I think it’s one in the same issue. I would have to say that both ableism and poor characterizations are going hand in hand when it comes to Ivar fic.

There are very very very few people who have removed his canon disability to replace it with a different one while still remaining sensitive/providing accurate representation. I’ve had discussions with those writers who’ve been mindful enough to want to explore his character with a different disability. Which I think is great! Though unfortunately, that is few and far between.

It’s complicated. To me, I think a lot of it depends on intent. Why is the disability being removed or lessened by temporary injury? From what I’ve seen, more often than not, it’s because it makes the task of writing easier. Even worse, it’s because there are people who find Ivar more attractive as an able-bodied individual. 

I mean it kinda goes without saying that the majority of Ivar fans simply like him because he’s played by an attractive actor. But for those bizarre enough to go “Imagine what he could do if he wasn’t disabled?” simply don’t even care about characterization. You don’t have Ivar without his disability. It has everything to do with the type of person he is. He would not be the same character if he was able-bodied. Period. You are absolutely right about that - that those variables affect the characters personality. 

But I gotta say that stands in any au regardless of timeline or genre. Frankly “Any supernatural au examples would require Ivar to be physically intact” is ableist in itself. Firstly, from a writer’s standpoint, that’s very narrow-minded, dismissive, and you just limit your options with that narrative. Secondly, why? Who made those rules? Why is that a rule? Why are you deciding to follow that rule? 

I have a werewolf au and he definitely still is disabled. And while yeah, it can slide with transition healing element, and no, I wont blacklist those types of fics, it does make it sound like it’s relieving to have that as an option.

Food for thought lol. Thanks for the messages. 

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

Don’t get mad at me but I need help with kys. Do you think that their relationship is healthy bc if they would of ever broken up then both of them would be so self destructive. I guess I’ve never loved someone that much to be that devastated and that’s why I’m asking. I love you and you’re story, I guess I don’t understand why they would be like that for a break up.

Part 2 of the healthy anon Also I know people who have been in relationships with those kinds of people and if they break up, sure it’s devastating but they eventually move on and get together with other people and are happy. Again no disrespect, I’m just trying to see your p.o.v

No worries, I’m not mad or feeling disrespected. I have no qualms with people inquiring about their relationship lol. 

So, it’s really a bit too complicated to deem their relationship healthy or unhealthy. It’s got both aspects on top of endurance of extreme circumstances.

Lisbet and Ivar’s relationship starts with hardly any openness or honesty. He puts her through the ringer in so many ways, including being emotionally abusive. Lisbet knows he’s dangerous, that the people he surrounds himself with are dangerous, and that being with him in turn, puts her in danger. And she’s cool with it because she cares enough for him and gains certainty of how much he cares for her, so she’s willing to take all of those risks. That’s not healthy.

Sure, Ivar and Lisbet love each other. But I think we can all agree on that if Lisbet was our friend or daughter, we’d be a little fucking wary about her decisions where he’s concerned.

And of course they do love each other. They’re both obsessed with each other, and probably to a dangerous level because of what they’re both willing to do for each other. This is what a typically ‘normal’ person is like with someone like Ivar, a dangerous gangster amid a criminal organization who often maims or kills people for a living, and also has some serious psychological issues. I don’t think any neurologically sound person could deem all of that healthy. And their romance is what’s so fun and interesting and challenging about writing this dynamic, as well as to watch it grow.

Because besides that, they both have great respect for each other, with work they’ve come to find their ability to be open and honest with each other. They can utterly be themselves together. And they also care about nurturing each other, encouraging them to be their best selves. Pushing them to work harder and excel. And these are all healthy things in a relationship! They develop the utmost trust in each other in seriously intimate ways, emotionally and physically. 

Then there’s the intensity of knowing that Ivar would absolutely kill for Lisbet. And given the right circumstances, I’m fairly certain she would do the same for him. Not only that, but they are continually put in literal life or death situations. They have shots fired at them, people assaulting them, trying to kill them, all for the sake of a criminal organization. I can’t speak for those you know, but I have personally never known someone to be in a relationship like that. The ride or die concept is not to be taken lightly where these two are concerned. Among actual gunfire and crime and chaos and death and violence, these two have found themselves in each other. They complete each other, and are madly in love with each other. 

So, back to the breakup scenario. Because of all aforementioned things, and their personalities, and my creative control, obviously they’re never going to break up. 

But in thinking of what could possibly break them up, it has to be something so terrible and tragic and awful that is so irredeemable that there’s just no coming back from it. Something so fucking bad that I literally can’t even come up with something in this universe that would tear them apart. We’re talking gargantuan levels of FUCKED. So bad that not even the commitment to the Mob can keep them together - which in gangster media you just don’t see, they usually just end up hating each other but stay together anyway.

So whatever this Big Bad Thing is completely destroys them both. There’s the coping with that, the inevitable grief with the Big Bad Thing itself. Think of normal people coping with horrific things, it’s not always pretty, sometimes they never recover. Even if they move on, there’s still a part that hurts no matter what, and there’s always questionable coping mechanisms involved in one way or another. Now apply that to Lisbet and Ivar. They are not normal, they are a teetering bridge between healthy and unhealthy. Ivar, as I’ve previously mentioned, has some serious psychological issues. How would they cope with the Big Bad Thing itself? 

Then how would they proceed to cope with the BBT that manages to tear them apart? They are more than two halves to a whole, Lisbet is Ivar. Ivar is Lisbet. By losing each other, they lose themselves. Think of how Ivar has constantly been insecure and filled with self-hatred, believing himself to be a monster. Think of how Aslaug, the most important human being in his life was torn away, and how he was able to find solace in Lisbet. Think of the terrible descent he would’ve made without her. And then think of Lisbet, who has risked literally everything in her life for Ivar. Her friends, her family, their safety on top of her own, and with the sacrifice of her future. Abetting a criminal organization, and who knows how deeply depending on the timeline of this scenario. The dynamics the two of them hold, the dom/sub dynamic. Sex wouldn’t even ever be the same.

The two of them are completely incapable of moving on from each other. Ivar would never love anyone else. Period. Lisbet would certainly try, because as always, she struggles to keep her normalcy in tact, and that would indeed be the normal thing to do, but no man would ever be Ivar. Neither of them would ever be complete without each other. Without the pain and the chaos, without the trust and the intimacy. All factors - healthy and unhealthy - is what makes their relationship, and makes it unique. And to me, what makes it infallible. So to lose all of that?? The word devastation doesn’t even sum it up. 

I hope this is helpful with putting it in perspective, feel free to ask more. I kinda got lost in the dramatics of it all so I hope it makes sense lol.

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

The tension is so good, and the whole shut down of Ivar was so well described. It broke my heart but it was so good. Will we have any chapters with Ivar's point of view after the fight??? Again amazing chapter (English is not my first lenguage so I kinda suck writting these asks, sorry)

Ugh the little shit drives me nuts. I felt so bad for Lisbet. I won't be doing Ivar's perspective though, sorry! I actually prefer writing about and around him over getting inside his head like that, what I've done so far is enough angst I think XD To be honest I don't think I'd be that great conveying his thoughts like that anyway.. the boy is complicated.