#ivars heathen army

[therealcalicali]

Ivar the Boneless - Vikings

[thepaperpanda]

A Little Snowball Fight || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: Your friendship with prince Igor dates back to when you cared for him as a child. One day, he introduces you to Ivar, the Viking prince from the far north. After first courtesy, a little snowball fight ensues. At the end of the meeting, Ivar makes a very interesting offer that you cannot refuse

Warnings: none

Word count: ~ 2215

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: Snowball Fight

Ice skating was one of your favourite pastimes, so you couldn't say no when young Igor invited you to skate - skating was especially fun when you had someone to skate with.

"Do you want to meet my new friend?" Igor asked, holding your hand as you glided across the ice together.

You glanced at him while humming softly. "Does this refer to this Viking prince? What was his name again... Ivar?"

After nodding immediately, the boy raised his head up and waved at Ivar.

Standing on top of a deck that provided a vantage point, Ivar nodded gently at Igor who was ice-skating below. Despite spending almost an hour outside, Igor was far from fatigued; Ivar was impressed by his stamina. The wooden railing was a perfect place for Ivar to rest his folded hands while watching Igor and rethinking his own matters.

In the same way that Igor did, you waved your hand to attract strangers' attention as well. Despite hearing about Ivar, you never had a chance to speak with him personally.

He kept his face straight, attempting to stay polite as he waved his hand back at you.

Soon, Igor pulled you off the ice so the two of you could join Ivar on the deck.

Ivar's lips were tinged with a smile as Igor and his female friend joined him. "Hope you are tired now, my boy," Ivar said as he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "There is nothing better than returning to the warmth of the indoors when you are freezing."

"Who said I was freezing?" Igor asked, raising his eyebrow and tilting his head as he looked at Ivar. "I am fine, but I would like you to meet Y/N. I used to be cared for by her when I was younger."

Ivar's blue eyes inspected your face and features with ease. A tone of pride permeated his introduction, "My name is Ivar, Ivar the Boneless."

"My name is Y/N. It is nice to finally meet you in person," you said, bowing your head a little. 

The smile on Igor's face was contagious. "You see, Ivar? I told you I have a very pretty friend."

In response, Ivar nodded his head a little, his smile growing wider. "There is no doubt in my mind that you did not lie in the slightest."

As Ivar's eyes slipped over your body, he met your gaze and had no choice but to admit you had the most stunning eyes he had ever seen on a woman.

You gazed at Igor, then grabbed some snow to rub into his cheeks, causing him to whine and laugh simultaneously. "As I told you before, Igor, be careful not to say things like this. It is rude to suddenly speak in such a manner."

It would have never occurred to Ivar that you would be the first to initiate a fight. He watched the scene with amusement. His question came out of the blue moments later, "Are you Russian, Y/N?"

A smile spread across your face when Igor hugged you, hugging him back you looked at Ivar "Как думаеш��, красавчик?"

"My first impression of you was that you're one of the most temperamental women I've ever seen."

Laughing softly, you bend down to whisper something into Igor's ear; a smile spread across Igor's lips. Looking back at Ivar, you smiled. "Thank you so much for your kind words. I really appreciate them."

Observing Igor interacting with you, Ivar slowly cocked his eyebrows. "My lady, aren't you aware that whispering in company isn't considered polite?"

"Aren't you aware that strangers shouldn't listen to certain matters?"

In spite of a temperature way below zero, Ivar's soft chuckle that escaped his lips was accompanied by a little cloud of steam. "That's right."

"Don't worry, I didn't say anything derogatory about you, or did I?" You teased, looking directly into Ivar’s eyes.

"She said she loves your eyes," Igor revealed your little secret without hesitation.

Ivar observed the two of you and decided not to comment on what Igor said, instead he nodded his head. "Maybe we should take a stroll back inside?"

Igor shrugged and said, "The two of you can go inside, I'd like to stay a little longer."

As you sighed, you looked at the boy and shook your head; he was impossible to get fatigued easily.

After politely waiting for you to move, Ivar followed you to the stairs and down on the ground level.

Taking a look at Ivar, you asked, "How's it going here for you? I hope Igor isn't bothering you too much."

The man shook his head eagerly, "No, he isn't bothering me at all. Igor is such a wonderful young man. He reminds me of myself when I was his age," Ivar's tone faded into silence. "Are you from here or did you come from somewhere else?" He asked, smoothly changing the topic.

"It's funny how you are so curious, aren't you? I was born and raised in this place, so I can truly say that I am from here," you replied politely, raising an eyebrow.

While walking through the ice and snow covered path, Ragnarsson listened to your words. A crutch-dependent person found walking in such conditions to be a challenge, so Ivar was stopping from time to time.

A worried look crossed your face as you looked at the young man. "Ivar, I am sure all the snow must be a great burden for you. Can I help you in any way?"

Your polite pleas for assistance went unanswered. Who did you think he was? Although he was crippled, he was capable of walking on his own, so he didn't need any kind of assistance. "Isn't our winter beautiful?" He asked, again changing the topic.

The hint was taken and you did not press any longer. "Despite the cold, it's beautiful. As usual."

"Do you like winter?"

"Well, not really. It's cold, and I don't really like skating because of it, but it's still fun."

"What other winter activities do you fancy?"

As you walked behind Ivar, you quietly grabbed some snow and moulded it into a ball and threw it at Ivar's back. "Snowball fights."

The moment Ivar was hit in the back, he turned around to look at you. "Seriously? Have you thrown a snowball at me? Isn't it kind of silly for someone like you?"

"You asked what winter activities I enjoy, so I showed one to you," you gave him a shrug in a form of response. "You don't have to be so stiff."

Ivar stuck his crutch in a snowdrift and slowly leaned forward to collect some white fluff, which he formed into a ball before throwing it skillfully at you - the ball hit your left shoulder. "I'm not stiff, Y/N, as you put it. I just prefer observing and planning."

"Isn't that exactly what you called? I observe and plan how to..." You threw another show ball at Ivar, hitting him in the stomach, "... Successfully throw snowballs at you."

Observing you, Ivar cocked his eyebrow and threw another ball of snow at you, hitting your cheek with it this time.

You gasped and wiped snow off your face. Your response was, "Oh, you! You're dead!" By saying this you made a big snowball and got ready to aim it.

When Ivar observed you making a snowball, he wondered how a dodge could be made.

The snowball was thrown right at his face as a way to pay him back.

As Ragnarsson couldn't dodge, snow got into his eyes when the ball struck his face. With his vision blurry, Ivar took one tiny step back and flopped on his butt in the snow as he tried to wipe his eyes.

You ran up to him, whispering, "Oh, gods! I should have been more careful!"

Ivar's facial expression initially displayed anger and disbelief; eventually, these emotions dwindled and he laughed as a smile spread over his lips. "Okay, that wasn't what I expected. It was a strong hit, Y/N."

As you wiped snow from his cheek, you quickly began to apologise. "Thank you for not being angry with me, but I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have... Your legs..." Your voice was nothing more than a tiny whisper as you looked at his face. "Forgive me, please."

He caught himself staring bluntly into your eyes - they were huge and had the most beautiful colour he had ever seen. He had a burning sensation in his cheeks from your hands as you slowly rubbed snow off of him; he discovered your palms were so warm and felt cosy. "It's fine."

"You seem to be getting warm... Are you feeling sick? Oh! I shouldn't keep you out too long today, it's cold," suddenly, you started to panic.

Your sudden solicitude surprised Ivar, who raised his hand to signal you to remain silent for a moment. “First of all, it is cold, yes, but I am accustomed to it, so no worries there. Second thing, stop worrying, nothing wrong is happening. Deal?"

Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, still feeling bad and hoping you didn't hurt him. "Let me assist you with getting up."

After a moment of thinking, he accepted your hand and slowly stood up. "Thanks."

A smile of apology appeared on your face as you squeezed his hand. There was still a feeling of guilt in your heart.

Another snowball aimed at Ivar's shoulder struck him suddenly. "For Valhalla's sake, what was that this time?" The young man grunted, looking around, only to see Igor gathering snow into his hands already, forming another ball with a smile on his face.

Looking at Igor, you blinked and shook your head. Before a snowball hit you right in the face, you managed to utter only a quiet, "No, Igor, don't..."

Using his forearm to block another snowball aimed at him, Ivar shouted, "Better stop it now, dear boy!"

"Come on, Ivar! It's fun! You can practise your combat skills with me now! Let's fight!" Igor shouted enthusiastically.

Ivar, instead of responding, slowly leaned down, made a huge ball from the snow he gathered, and then threw it at Igor, hitting him in the face. "It's for aiming at the lady."

A snowball thrown by you hit Igor before the boy could prepare another snowball to throw at Ivar.

"It's time to show the little one what it's like to start a fight with the adults!" You briefly looked at Ivar, a mischievous grin dancing in the corners of your mouth.

Ivar was throwing ball after ball at Igor, occasionally chuckling to himself as he did so.

As soon as you did what Ivar did, poor Igor was scrambling to surrender.

Ivar slowly limped closer to you with his crutch in hand and asked you quietly after leaning closer to you, "Y/N, are we accepting his surrender?"

Keeping your eyes on Ivar, you hummed softly. "It seems like it might be a good idea. What do you think?”

"I agree."

"Then I agree too," you nodded at Ivar, then looked at Igor. "It's time to get inside before we get sick."

After looking at you for a moment, Ivar gave you a nod of approval. Although Ivar wore a thick fur coat and a hat to keep himself warm, he began to feel cold under the clothes. "The idea is good, Y/N. We could get some warm drinks."

Before Igor joined you, Ivar offered you his shoulder after shaking the snow off his thick fur. "Shall we, Y/N?"

In response, you accepted the offer, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and discovering with surprise that his shoulder was very well-built and seemed to be very strong, even with the fur covering it. 

Biting inside of your cheek, you tried not to get distracted by thoughts that crossed your mind. "With pleasure, Ivar. Also, I’d like to point out that your combat skills are also impressive, you have a very sharp eye,” you praised him, feeling the blush spreading across your cheeks.

In spite of his crippled appearance, Ivar was far from being an idiot, and he immediately noticed a slight change in your behaviour after you got closer to him. He suggested politely, "I was wondering if we could enjoy a pint of mulled wine and discuss our likes and dislikes a little more?" 

Your eyes never left his as you tightened your grip on his shoulder and gently nodded your head. "It will be my great pleasure, Ivar the Boneless."

Both of you didn't seem to notice Igor standing right beside you, hands resting on his hips. "It is not my intention to interrupt your lovely exchange of views, but I am hungry, and I know Oleg will send guards looking for us if we don't return inside soon. I know you two get along really well, but let's leave it for later, shall you?" The young prince gasped and walked to the front door of the palace. “I can’t handle their teeth-rooting sweetness,” he whispered to himself.

Ivar rolled his eyes after listening to Igor's rant and led you back to the palace. "Having Igor between two fires tomorrow might be a wise idea if he continues to behave this way."

[ivarandersen]

I’ve started watching Vikings again! And getting the inspo to write that fic I started like… 5? 6 years ago? … You know, back when I had free time and I didn’t have to pay for health insurance T_T

(All my old tags are still queued up and ready post so that makes life easy lmaooooo>

[barbucomedie]

Silver Coin from Winchester, England dated between 875 - 885 on display at Winchester Catherdral, England

This coin was excavated in the Cathedral Close and bears the head of Alfred the Great with the inscription +ÆLFREDREXSA+ which translates to Alfred, King of the Saxons. From 871 to 886 Alfred was King of the West Saxons, the Kingdom of Wessex. During this time of Alfred's reign the Vikings under Guthrum, later King of East Anglia (879 - 890?), Ivar the Boneless, Halfdan Ragnarson, Ubba and Bagsecg formed the Great Heathen Army and invaded much of England.

Photographs taken by myself 2023

[ubbesonofragnar]

Ubbe Lothbrok or Ragnarsson is the firstborn son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Aslaug, Bjorn's younger half-brother and older brother of Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar, Father of Ragnar, Leja Talvi, Thyra Xenia Freia and Hvitserk Ivar, happily married with Torvi and uncle of Vidar, Edda, Iwan, Finan, Caye, Illian, Marlena, Ellinor and Baldur. As the son of Ragnar, he grew up with the stories of his father, whom he loves very much, and as a boy he has the closest bond with his brother Hvitserk and with Caya, Flóki's daughter. Even in his youth, Ubbe is just as sharp-witted as his father and assertive. He also looks most like his father, which he often hears, such as the curiosity he inherits from him and his thirst for adventure and desire to explore distant lands and no interest in power or the throne. His loyalty to his father is indisputable with his loyalty to his brothers, especially to his older brother Bjorn, much to the displeasure of his mother. After his father leaves the family, Ubbe, as the eldest of the brothers and the most sensible of them, becomes the father figure to his younger brothers, for whom he is always there, but is the first to realize how dangerous his little brother Ivar is. After their mother's death, he and Ivar try to kill Lagertha in revenge, because she killed their mother, with whom Ubbe never had a close relationship. Together with the great Heathen army, they successfully avenge their father as brothers and successfully and on everyone's lips as his sons and are known and famous throughout their people. After condemning Ivar's methods and plans and wanting to negotiate with the Saxons to get land for the people, as their father wanted, and breaking away from Ivar and his brother Hvitserk, he returns to Kattegat alone. There he joins Lagertha and is ready to go into battle against Ivar and Hvitserk and is completely faithful and loyal to Lagertha and Bjorn. After Ivar conquers Kattegat and becomes king, they flee from him and find shelter in Wessex with King Alfred, for whom they fight and whom Ubbe teaches a lot and wins his trust. In order to preserve the country, he is baptized as a Christian, but remains a Viking through and through and believes firmly in his gods. After Ivar is overthrown and Ubbe returns to Kattegat, he stays by Bjorn's side, but feels his father's urge to explore distant lands and the golden land and sets off shortly afterwards after briefly representing Bjorn as leader in Kattegat. There he finds Flóki again and decides to return with him to Kattegat, to his home and his family. [ Vikings ]

[miss-madness67]

It Is You (Ivar The Boneless)

Ivar the Boneless drabble

Imagine you are the one that catches Ivar's eyes, not Freydis.

The crowd is overly excited by the army’s return to Kattegat, they had finally avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had not taken long to recruit the great heathen army, and less to decimate the Saxons. Most of the hassle had been travel discrepancies and what to do after. Now with all that finally over, Vikings have a chance to celebrate victory. It is no surprise, then, when the great hall is completely packed with drunk people in the late hours of the night. The celebration of the great heathen army’s conquest is something to brag about, and Ivar the Boneless is doing precisely that.

You have never seen the Viking prince in person, considering that you are not a shieldmaiden, and could not go to avenge Ragnar. Also, you grew up in Ringerike, not Kattegat, thus you never encountered him during your childhood. You have heard the stories, though, not only the most recent ones about his victory against the Saxons, but also those speaking of his cruelty and quick temper. And so when you came to welcome your brother back from fighting in England, it was not in your plan to cross paths with Ivar the Boneless. However, once you entered the great hall, your destiny was entangled with his.

He is not the only man that stares at you more than he should, but his gaze is so intense that you can not shake it off. It burns through your skin like fire, stealing all of your attention from your brother’s words. When you look up, Ivar is already glancing your way. He does not smile or try to approach you like the rest of the men, he just stares.  His look is heated but not loaded with anger, it is something else. No one has ever gazed at you like that, it has such desire and amazement. It makes you feel like a goddess. So, while your brother is still talking, you leave his side to introduce yourself to the cruel prince. That is the first step that changes your life.

Tags: @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering

[honestsycrets]

Thank you for the thoughts! It’s a rather old piece with choices I may have changed today, but holds a special place in my heart.

Irreplaceable

Finished

Irreplaceable: King Ivar spends much of his time with his first wife: neglecting his second wife, the mother of his children. Eventually, it catches up to him when a foreign King Sverri invades his lands. A/N: Photos are not mine, collage is. Second picture was a fan art made by  @salimahbicharara-comun

A/N: Please see my FAQ if you have any questions. It is under “Miscellaneous”

Warnings:

Polygyny, adultery, multiple character death, child death, depression, fighting, verbal arguments, physical arguments, an incidence of rape, jealousy, dysfunctional family life, mute child.

Prologue ✔️

Part I: Ivar’s First Sight

Part II: Decisions

Part III: An Equal Partnership

Part IV: What I Care About

Part V: New Beginnings

Part VI: A Mistake

Part VII: Who Was He?

Part VIII: Sickness

Part IX: Spoken Words

Part X: A Curse

Part XI: Only a Womb

Part XII: A Daughter?

Part XIII: Apologize

Part XIV: Much Worse…

Part XV: He Has Your Eyes

Part XVI: My Mother’s Choice!

Part XVII: Strange Shores

Part XVIII: Failure

Part XIX: What I Really Want

Part XX: After My Mother

Part XXI: Heat

Chapters ✔️

Chapter I: The Right One

Chapter II: His Fiery Son

Chapter III: I Always Have

Chapter IV: Not Anymore

Chapter V: More Than a Womb

Chapter VI: Stolen Virginity

Chapter VII: All of You 

Chapter VIII: Guiltless Pleasure

Chapter IX: A Wager

Chapter X: I’m Glad It Was You

Chapter XI: His Only Queen

Chapter XII: Seven

Chapter XIII: Bound

Chapter XIV: At Least It Was You

Chapter XV: Use Him

Chapter XVI: Irreplaceable

Miscellaneous

1k Celebration!

Commissioned Art: Sverri 

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FAQ

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Ivar’s Children

As adults

Sverri’s Prologue

Helm of Awe

[verecunda]

I know we all love our St Sebastianification of Celebrimbor, for obvious gay reasons, but I'm going to throw this out as something more closely connected to Tolkien's own field of obsession:

St Edmund the Martyr

fwiw, I don't think we really have to go looking for historical/mythological parallels in every single thing Tolkien put down in his books (man had an imagination of his own), but he was your certified nut for all things Old English, so it's quite fun when you notice something that seems to resonate. :)

Edmund (d. AD 869) was King of East Anglia. Unlike St Sebastian, who was martyred during an imperial purge of Christians, Edmund died at the hands of an invading army. This was the time of the Great Heathen Army, a great Viking coalition that made war in Britain from 865, and in some versions Edmund died at the hands of the (in?)famous Viking king Ivar the Boneless. First Ivar sent him a message, demanding his submission, as well as all his treasure and heirlooms. (A bit like Sauron attacking Eregion in pursuit of the Three Rings and having his army ransack the House of the Mírdain in search of the Three Rings?)

Needless to say, Edmund refused these terms and Ivar attacked. Rather than flee, the King resolved to stand firm and face the attackers, not unlike Celebrimbor meeting the Mordor hordes alone at the door of his house. According to the most well-known version of his death, first he was tortured with whips and rods, but when that failed to break his spirit, they shot him through with arrows (or spears) "as if it was a game, until he was entirely covered with their missiles, like the bristles of a hedgehog."

The Vikings didn't use Edmund's body as a war-banner, but they did desecrate it by cutting off the head and hiding it in a bramble thicket, so he could not be buried properly. But, so the story goes, a friendly wolf guarded the head from being gobbled up by any other woodland scavengers, until it could be recovered by his people and buried along with the body. (Which has absolutely nothing to do with Celebrimbor; it's just a good story. Old saints' lives are the best.) Many miracles soon became attributed to the murdered king, and his shrine was moved from its original burial place to the town which is now called Bury St Edmund's. He was venerated as one of England's patron saints until St George was given the role in the later Middle Ages.

[ladynightshade30]

Updates

So, I am a little over halfway done with my first round of edits for Ramon and Isolda. Hopefully, I can finish this round of edits by the end of next week. Then I am going to move on to the next round. Goodie!

Hopefully, I will have it ready for Beta readers by September and an official publishing release next year. I am still working on Chrysalis and Whips my BDSM, slow burn romance. Another story idea I have is called Lemon Seas and is a Little Mermaid retelling featuring Mersharks and Merorcas instead of the traditional mermaids/mermen.

I still have ideas for Ivar/Eadwulf, which I hope to start working on again as soon as things settle down in regards to Ramon and Isolda.

Ivar/Eadwulf stories being worked on Stone by Stone - Ivar and Eadwulf are in an arranged marriage but perfection is a good deal off and they must build their love stone by stone. My Heart's Lighter Soul - Ivar and Eadwulf are soul mates. I really don't have much of an idea on where to go with it other than that. King Takes Queen - While the Great Heathen Army savages the land Ivar falls for the captive Princess Eadwulf, the younger sister of Biship Heahmund.

[littlenicky24]

Fire Behind The Viking (Ivar x OFC)

Rheneria Targaryen was 16 years old, only a year younger than her sister Daenerys. Their brother Viserys was determined to get back to Westeros and claim the Iron throne no matter the costs as long as he got his army to overthrow Robert Baratheon.

First he forced Daenerys to marry Khal Drogo and he planned to sell his youngest sister to the highest bidder, however when Essos is suddenly raided by heathens. She was spotted by scouts while her brother is away, what happens when the ruthless viking has her taken for himself.

[therealcalicali]

Ivar the Boneless - Vikings

[thepaperpanda]

A Snowy Army || Ragnarssons x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: Making snow angels with Ivar is a whole new experience.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2409

Authors: Bear & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: Making Snow Angels

Snow danced in the sunlight, a ballet choreographed by the gentle wind. As he watched, Ubbe's eyes widened, as wide as his younger brothers' when they saw the street had turned into a new page, ready for their playful feet and mittened hands. "Y/N?" Ubbe called your name, casting a glance through a chamber warmed by the crackling fire in the fireplace.

While carrying a few logs of wood to the fireplace to ensure everyone stays warm, you gasped in surprise upon hearing your name. "Yes, Ubbe?”

"Don't you think it's lovely outside?" Ubbe chimed in.

His words were met with Ivar's snorting. "Yeah, what beautiful weather, with cold wind and tons of snow."

"It's beautiful indeed, but it's a shame that such beautiful weather is accompanied by such a coldness," you replied softly.

Ivar clapped his hands and pointed to you, exclaiming, "See what I mean? Even a thrall understands that winter is dreadful. And mother claims that all the thralls are stupid."

Hvitserk had now joined the conversation he had overheard while napping by the fireplace. "Ivar, stop being a jerk to Y/N and behave."

You waved your hand and shrugged, "I'm used to it, no worries," you said. "Hvitserk? Do you need anything?”

"No, Y/N, but thank you for asking," Hvitserk replied, closing his eyes again in an attempt to fall back asleep.

Ubbe suggested, "Can we go outside for some fresh air?"

As Sigurd entered the Great Hall, his loud voice echoed from the walls, "I'm in. The snow is so fluffy, and it's not that cold outside."

As you glanced at Ubbe and others, you smiled but still wrapped fur around Hvitserk to make sure he wouldn't get cold. "Shall I bring your furs?”

"I have mine," Sigurd said, pointing to the thick fur he wore.

"I'll get mine, though. I believe we should give Hvitserk some rest for he had a rough night," Ubbe responded with a nod of his head.

"Bring me mine, thrall," Ivar said. "Did you forget I'm a cripple?"

"Ivar!” Ubbe yelled at his younger brother, this time being out of patience with his rude behavior.

As you bowed your head, you headed to bring Ivar's fur to avoid aggravating him further.

Ubbe approached Ivar, who was sitting by the table, sipping his herbal drink, and smacked the back of the younger man's head.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Ivar looked at his older brother, an unhappy grimace on his lips.

"What did I say about treating our thralls well?"

Ivar's fur was quickly found and returned to him by you. "Would you like me to help you put it on?”

After being chastised by his older brother, Ivar gave you a look and nodded, "Yes, please." He emphasized the last word to demonstrate to Ubbe that he understood his older brother's message.

Ubbe gave you a gentle smile and asked you to assist Ivar while he and Sigurd waited outside.

By softly nodding, you helped Ivar. You put the fur around his shoulders and then ensured it wouldn't slip off by wrapping it around him. "Here you go. Now you won't get cold."

"Thank you," Ivar whispered quietly after ensuring that none of his brothers were present, so they wouldn't mock him for being so polite; it was the side of himself he tried his hardest to hide from the world.

As you walked away to take care of your other duties, you said, "You're welcome."

You were just a thrall, no matter how much you wanted to join the brothers.

Ivar inquired, out of the blue, "Maybe you want to join us?"

Your eyes widened as you stared at Ivar.

Did he really invite you to join? You? Out of all the people.

"I would love to, but I'm not sure if I can."

"Why? I'm inviting you right now. Are you going to refuse my offer?"

"N-No. I wouldn't dare," you whispered.

As Ivar carefully sat on the floor and crawled toward the door, he said, "Follow me then and stop whining."

As soon as you found the fur you owned, you wrapped it around yourself before following Ivar.

Before leaving the Great Hall, Ivar put on his gloves to protect his hands from the cold of the frozen ground.

It wasn't long before Ubbe and Sigurd were joined by you and Ivar.

Ivar scoffed as he watched his older brothers fight with snowballs.

When you looked at Ivar, you asked, "You... You think I can try too?" Sure, Ivar invited you to join them, but you weren't sure if you could play around with them - they were princes and you were nothing but a thrall.

Ivar shrugged a little. "Of course, why not?"

With a smile, you grabbed some snow, made a ball out of it, and threw it at Ubbe.

The oldest brother gasped loudly, not expecting you to join them. A huge snowball soon hit your shoulder, and then your tummy.

You laughed loudly and decided not to let them win, so you threw more snowballs at Ubbe and Sigurd.

Ivar sat on the snowy ground, watching you all interact.

Soon after, Ubbe grabbed you by the waist and lifted you into his arms, making it impossible for you to escape as he locked you in a bear hug.

Trying to escape his tight embrace, you squealed loudly, but it was no use, so you just giggled.

And that was when you were attacked from behind by Sigurd, who stuffed some snow under your fur and tunic while Ubbe held you tightly in his arms.

The cold made you whimper loudly, "No! Not fair!"

Ivar couldn't stop laughing at the situation.

Ubbe set you back down and tapped your nose, "Come on, snow is great fun!"

You shook your head, "NOT WHEN IT GETS UNDER MY CLOTHES!"

"We can always help you get rid of those clothes," Sigurd slyly remarked.

Blinking, you blushed. "Well... I don't think such a thing would help me at the moment."

"You'd get warm again," he slightly wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

Ubbe shook his head a little and pulled you out of Sigurd's embrace. "The snow's fluffy, let's try something."

As you looked up at Ubbe, you asked happily, "Like snow angels?!"

Ivar was the one who made a comment on your words, "It's clear you used to be a Christian. You even refer to shapes made in fresh snow as angels."

As you shrugged, you explained, "That's what we always called them. Because they did indeed look like angels."

"Angels. Ha! Pathetic explanation," Ivar summed up wryly; it met Ubbe's disapproval. 

"Ivar, if you have to say all these nasty words, better shut up this time," the oldest brother claimed.

"Ubbe it's okay. I'm used to it."

As soon as you left Ubbe, you landed on the snow right where you had hopped. As you moved your arms and legs, you created a shape in the snow; once you were done, you raised your hand in triumph. "Ubbe, can you help me get up?"

Ubbe took a giant step towards you and extended his hand, assisting you in getting back up.

Grasping his hand, you let him lift you up. Obviously, you were careful not to ruin your snowy creation. "It does look like an angel."

Ubbe examined the shape and quickly agreed with you that it did resemble an angel. "Y/N is correct."

You smiled and asked, "Ivar? Would you like to give it a try?"

Ivar looked up at you with a frown. "Do I appear to move my legs in the same way you did to make this shape? No, I don't believe so."

You thought for a moment. "You can move your arms! Your angel simply won't have a dress, or I can move your legs."

In a loud scowl, Ivar said, "Don't touch my legs, I can do everything by myself." After these words, Ivar crawled to where you had made your snow angel. He sat flatly on the snow, moved his left leg left, then his right leg left, then repeated the action in the other direction. After that, he lay heavily down and only moved his left arm a few times.

"If you don't do both arms, your angel will only have one wing," You said, hiding under Ubbe's soft fur.

Ivar sat on his butt again and started to draw something on the snow. Soon, he carefully left the snow and crawled out, revealing a shape looking like a warrior with a sword.

You and Ubbe walked closer. With a grin on your face, you nodded your head. "Well, that's always something new."

Ubbe slowly raised his eyebrow. "Well, that's interesting."

Sigurd was the second to approach and check the final result. "Ivar, brother, you're the man of many talents. Your talent goes far beyond being a brat. You have the power to fuck everything you get your hands on."

"Sigurd," you frowned at him and then smiled at Ivar. "Don't say that. Ivar makes pretty things in his own way. I like it."

Upon seeing Ivar looking up at you, you could swear he had a twinkle in his eye and a slight smile on his lips.

"Can you help me make more warriors like you did? WE COULD MAKE OUR OWN ARMY!" You enthusiastically inquired.

Ivar cocked his eyebrow while looking at you but nodded without unnecessary words.

You flopped down on the snow and began making your army.

Ivar observed you but soon followed, trying to make another shape in the fluffy snow.

As you copied his technique, you made some crooked shapes in the snow. You tried to make better-looking ones with an unhappy growl.

Ivar created a few more shapes with some struggles, but after that he was truly proud with the final outcome.

As Ubbe helped you shake the snow off your fur, you smiled and thanked him. 

You looked proudly at all the shapes. "Beware! I present to you your brother's army that will conquer the world!"

Ivar, who was sitting on the ground, looked up at you and actually gave you a smile. "It's not that bad in the end. They don't look like pathetic angels."

"I won't do snow angels again," you giggled, "They look like great warriors, so it will be only snow warriors from now on."

"Snow warriors, I like it, actually," Ivar replied proudly.

Despite rolling his eyes, Sigurd agreed that the shapes looked pretty neat.

Your head was bowed, and you said, "It's your own army, my prince."

Ivar kept smiling at you, but soon his smile vanished from his lips.

As Sigurd walked away, he mocked, "This is the only army he'll ever get.".

Using some snow, you rolled a ball and threw it at Sigurd. You walked to Ivar next. "Don't worry. You'll have a great army soon, I'm sure."

Ubbe watched the scene for a moment, but soon he decided it was time to leave you and Ivar alone, so you could try to get along together - Ivar used to be very snappy towards you since the very first day you were taken in by Ragnar and Aslaug.

"Yeah, in my fucking dreams."

"Oh, Ivar. Please, you never know what gods have prepared for you," you reassured him.

"Gods seem to hate me," he told you, slowly crawling away.

Following him, you shook your head. "No, Ivar. They don't. You are still here. It means one thing - they have a great plan for you."

"How can you be so cheerful? So full of hope?" He asked with a nasty tone.

"The positive side of life is what I try to focus on," you explained. "By being down the entire time, you will make things harder for yourself."

Ivar crawled to the nearest stable, where he crawled inside and sat on the hay. He started petting one of the horses. "Maybe you're right."

It was brave of you to sit next to him. "Each of us has a purpose in this world. If you are here, it means your purpose hasn't yet been fulfilled."

"Maybe you're right. I dream of becoming the most powerful man in the world."

"My belief is that one day you will be the most powerful man in the world."

He cocked his eyebrow, looking at you. "You say all those things, and you're kind to me only because I am a cripple, and you're scared of my mother."

There was a roll of the eyes from you. The reason I am polite to you is because I want to, and even if you aren't nice sometimes, I don't think you deserve to be hated or treated worse than others."

His eyebrow slowly went up a little as Ivar tilted his head.

"What?”

"Am I saying something?"

As you shrugged, you replied, "No, but I've seen this look before."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Nodding, you grabbed his chin and turned his face enough to kiss him gently.

Ivar gasped; this was the last thing he expected of you. Your lips were soft, warm and welcoming. Ivar instinctively closed his eyes and moved his lips slowly against yours, giving the kiss back.

After kissing him for a moment longer, you pulled away. Seeing his lightly shocked expression, you giggled. "Would you be able to smile for me now?"

Hesitantly, Ivar smiled but soon turned his head away, trying to hide the blush and surprise that painted on his face.

You kissed his cheek briefly and got up to leave the stable. "This expression suits you much better," you said. "We'd better get back before your mother gets angry at me."

"Angry at you? Why? You're guarding her crippled son," Ivar patted the horse one last time and crawled slowly after you.

You concluded, "I keep him outside when it's freezing as well. If you get sick, it's my fault. Not only will she punish me for that, but she will make me take care of you, and you're even more moody when you're sick."

"That's not true," he protested, but followed you anyway.

"How could that be? Every time you are sick, you almost cry that you are dying."

"Because this is how I feel, like dying!"

"Oh, yes, yes. Let's get back inside. I will make you something warm to drink."

He followed you, thinking he could warm himself up with one more kiss from you.

[vaire-gwir]

Vikings ask what would have happend if sigurd killed ivar instead

I find it very hard to imagine that, I don't think Sigurd would be smart enough to find a way to kill Ivar.

But, hypothetically speaking, I'd say that there would be no more Great Heathen Army raiding England. Also, Sigurd would have never tried to take over Kattegat, he would have been perfectly fine with the way things were. He never seemed to be particularly upset about the murder of his mother, so he would not seek revenge.

Ivar had a clever mind and the recklessness necessary to lead an army. Achieving something, winning battles, conquering cities, facing the English army...Sigurd has none of those abilities. There's no way he would have been able to take leadership and keep it for so long!

Yeah, you can tell I never liked Sigurd much

Thanks for the ask anon <3 I appreciate it!

[rhearoyces]

tell me everything about asa 😍

it's been so long since i thought about her so this will be kind of patchy, but:

asa is ragnar and lagertha's first child, the elder twin sister of bjorn. she's a very religious person, fascinated by stories of both the norse gods, from her parents and floki, and of the christian god, from athelstan. she and her sister gyda are very close, and she similarly forms a close friendship with athelstan.

when the plague strikes kattegat, she becomes badly ill, and has a vision from odin, offering her the ability to tell the future if she is willing to make a sacrifice. asa agrees, her fever breaks, and she wakes up to discover she is blind in one eye and that gyda is dead. while most people believe that the sacrifice was just her eye, mirroring odin's own sacrifice, asa wonders if gyda's death was also part of it. over the course of the next few months she begins to recieve visions of the future, though she struggles to understand what they mean.

after lagertha and ragnar divorce, asa elects to stay with her father, believing that kattegat is where the gods wish for her to be.

while asa is never close to aslaug, they do bond over prophecy, with aslaug teaching her how to decipher the meaning of her visions and how to call on foretellings by herself. asa is, however, a devoted older sister to aslaug's sons, especially sigurd, partially due to his snake-in-the-eye being the same side as her blind eye. after aslaug fails to react to siggy's death, sigurd instead turns to asa, who takes him in and raises him. she tries to calm the feud between ivar and sigurd, foreseeing that it will come to a dangerous end, but is unsuccessful. her close relationship with sigurd strains her relationship with ivar, who believes that she is always taking sigurd's side.

due in part to her disability, asa never strongly pursued fighting and raiding, as her family members did. her first raid was with bjorn in the mediterranean, who convices her to come by reminding her that is would be useful to have a seer on a voyage in to new territory. she's happy to reunite with rollo, and foretells of his descendants' future kingship. she is the first to recognise odin when her comes to inform them of ragnar's death.

asa goes to england along side the great heathen army, truly taking on her position as priestess. when they find ragnar's body she performs long overdue burial rites for him, and she makes sacrifices to the gods before and after the major battles that they fight. she also claims aella's daughter blaeja as her slave to protect her from harm.

when ivar and sigurd get into their fight, it goes one of three ways i haven't decided which yet help. either ivar kills sigurd like in canon, sigurd is injured but not killed thanks to asa's intervention, or, argueably the spiciest, asa sees the axe coming, putting herself inbetween it and sigurd, and being badly injured herself.

after that i haven't planned out much for her because the later seasons drove me kind of insane.

[honestsycrets]

Neglection [Ivar x Healer!Reader, Past!Hvitserk x Reader]

❛ pairing | ivar x reader, past!hvitserk x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | touched with eir's healing powers, it's your custom to care for the great heathen army. ivar doesn't appreciate the order you care for others in.

❛ tags | NSFW, non-graphic mention of ivar's wound, healer!reader, blind!reader, religious references, past!hvitserk x reader, heavily jealous!ivar, jealousy.

❛ sy’s notes | forgive the looseness of this piece, i'm attempting to complete random freewrites to get into producing more works.

Stubborn, that was how you would define Ivar. Even if he was one of the commanders of the Great Heathen Army, he was also as stubborn as a mule. Pain, he claimed, was one of his deepest allies. He was surrounded by it from birth. 

“Ivar,” you trilled, coming into the great church where Ivar set up his base. “Ivar-- are you here?” 

You tiptoed past sleeping comrades holding the bottom of your skirts, prancing over a viking’s sleeping body, egged on by the nagging urge to chase your injured commander. His rich scent filled your nostrils: blood and breaks, smoke and honey. His slight huffs of pain, slight as they were, led you to this room.

“Commander?” 

“Hush,” came the snapping reply. “My brothers are sleeping.” 

Your foot bumped against cold stone steps. “Where are you?” 

“You’re close.” 

The night was always a trying time for finding the right man. Ivar’s thick candle, flickering in the moonlight, casted little light by which you could guide yourself through the large room. You climbed over the heavy steps by sliding your feet slowly over the stone floor. Then, bumped into another body. 

“Ivar?” 

There was no answer. You bend at the knees and casted your fingers over the crumpled body on the floor. It wasn’t right-- no, his sides were too narrow. His hair in long braids. And when he moaned, your ears were full with a gruff but inviting voice. “Prince Hvitserk,” you mumbled.

“Yes, Prince Hvitserk,” Ivar chided. “You always loved Hvitserk.” 

You left his side with the assumption that Ubbe would be sleeping close by. Wherever Hvitserk was, Ubbe was. You knew that. Bjorn wouldn’t be in this room-- he was keeping watch tonight. “I don’t choose who to heal first, Ivar. The goddesses do.” 

“You can lie better than that.” 

“Please don’t mock me, Ivar. I just want you to be safe--” 

“Safe?” He hummed. “I’m not interested in being ‘safe’, my sweet.” 

Sweet, you flushed. You hoped that the bright light wouldn’t illuminate your cheeks, flush with embarrassment. Then again, you would never know. “You’re blushing, hm, do you like that?” 

“That’s enough. Just come to me.” 

“Why should I? If memory is escaping you,” he bit out. His voice clear, filling your ears with dizzying certainty. He really was close. “I was shot in the thigh. Find me yourself.”

Seconds later, your knees collided with a great wooden chair. Then betrayed you. You fell forward and caught yourself by slamming your hand down on a firm, but fleshy surface “Gods!” he shouted. 

“By Eir!” you snapped back, hands flailing to find the proper wooden surface. “My Ivar, I’m--” 

“Sorry, yes, I know. Congratulations, you’ve found me. Now get on with it.” 

“On-- on with it?”

“Did you not come here to heal it?” he asked. In the hazy field of your vision, you knew he was scrutinizing you. You ran your hand over your long skirt, smoothing it down. Whatever he was staring at, be it your thick braid over your shoulder or the dry blood caked over your hands from a long day of work, you weren’t sure. “Or are those magical hands only for Hvitserk?” 

“Why do you insist on Hvitserk?” 

His head, angled toward his brother, snapped to you. “Given how much time you spend with him--” 

His body tensed. Your fingers ghosted the scratchy fabric of his pants, still splattered with blood, and you realized he too hadn’t washed down. You hovered over the wound, the place where his scent originated from. 

“I do not.” 

“You only serve him breakfast and dinner,” he spat to the side again, stiffening as you moved up to loosen his belt. His hand snapped to your wrist, grip crushing the bone. You lifted your head to him, coming close enough that you could make something out of the face you once knew.

“Don’t do that.” 

“I need a clear working area. It isn’t as if I can see your…” you snaked your hand away from his grip to try and loosen his pants again. He snapped his head one way, then another, watching as you kneeled between his legs. He remained silent as you slid his pants down his thin legs to his ankles. 

 “You’ve seen Hvitserk’s,” he huffed under his breath. 

“How many times do I need to tell you? I’ve not been with him. For years,” you searched through your bag for the right essentials. Yes, another healer had cleaned the area on your request-- but it wasn’t done to your liking. The cloth was loose, the area unpurified. “I don’t even remember what he felt like.” You mumbled.

Ivar’s lips parted with a slight smack. He was wordless for an instant, his head shifting to face his brother. “He was that… immemorable?” 

The air was thick. He, curious. You, exhausted. Ivar’s large arms turned one over another. He twitched his thick muscular thighs as if to urge a response from you. Your hand came over his firm muscles to keep him in place. 

“We were so young. Ubbe was training him,” you said, cleaning the area with a soaked cloth. When you bumped into him, the wound oozed. Your lips pursed and you would blow soft air over his thigh which caused his muscles to tighten. “Besides, I don’t remember much from before Eir took my sight, Ivar. Only the small memories we shared.” 

“But not the dick,” he laughed. Your fingertips swatted the side of his thigh. 

In your mortar, you mixed a mixture of herbs that he only recognized from his mother’s witchery cabinet to soothe his aches. Your lips moved in the strangest of prayers, sanctifying the blend to aid in his healing and pain. Then you slathered it on his thigh, tingles ripping through his thigh to his spine. He wasn’t sure if the mixture or your lips healed the soreness, sweeping over his thigh with a soft kiss. He trembled. 

“You have nothing to be anxious about.” 

“Hm?” 

You lifted his thigh, drawing the bandage in sturdy loops around his thigh. Then, securing it in place, removed his musty pants and boots. It took a moment to locate his other pants. Ivar took them and drew them on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his tongue to urge you on. “I don’t want to be his.”

“Then whose?” 

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you were aware of what he was about to say. Though you couldn’t see, you could feel. Feel the intensity of Ivar’s presence, his eyes following you around camp, his endless neediness. His hand shot out and snatched the cords of your dress. You knew you shouldn’t have worn his dress to deal with Ivar. There was no way to unpeel his strong grip from your cords by will alone. 

“Be mine.” 

There were certain things that you knew the gods wanted. Healing of their finest warriors, the mitigation of pain, and hard workers. Your eyes, glazed as they were, served only to be a liability. To a man like Ivar-- your hands connected with his naked shoulders. His muscles enticed you-- far-- far too well. It had been years since you last had a man. Perhaps, in part, due to Ivar’s consistent scowls and glares.

“I can’t, I-- I swore to Eir,” you murmured. Though the words came of your lips, they did not convince you. You traveled his sturdy shoulders to his neck, then his jaw-- peppered with stubble. God, he knew what the sensation did to you with waves of excitement dancing over your skin. You weren’t convincing anyone.

“What does she care? Does she demand some silly Christian oath?” 

“No, but I--” He grasped your backside, pulling up the skirts over your knees. Then, jerked you onto the throne with legs on either side of his own. His voice softened into a soft honey-like hum, rivaling the soft slick that gathered between your legs. “Let me convince you otherwise, hm?” 

“Hvitserk is here.”  

“Forget him.” Ivar coursed his hand underneath your skirts. It was frustrating how often he could not listen. You could tell Ivar that the sky was blue and he’d debate you! With his calloused fingers guiding there way to the junction of your legs and pelvis, you knew there was nothing that you could tell him. No, nothing that you wanted to tell him, that would change this. Even with your complaining, you longed for the attention. It had been years.

Ivar inhaled air as he brushed your vulva, dancing his thumb across your neglected lips. He slid between the slit, parting your lips with ginger care. It was nearly embarrassing how easy it was for Ivar, running the pad of his thumb up and down. “See? You want me.” 

You wracked your mind for the last time this had happened. The last time a man had his eye on you-- oh, but you remembered, the night you lost your vision. Hvitserk-- whose kind heart soothed your grief-- warmed your body to comfort you. As you traced the memory, the ache of his absence panged strangely in your heart. Oh, how easy a man’s heart was to sway.

“Focus on me,” Ivar sank his fingers into your warm cunt. Your hips shifted in response, flush against his chest, breasts in his face. Your body tensed around his fingers to keep him in place. Ivar wasn’t the sort of man to be held back. Not by a pathetic cry, no. He was guided by the things he was passionate about. “Good--” 

“Please, Ivar, I’ve not--” he curled his fingers, massaging your walls as you hadn’t in years. It was warm, wonderful. His other hand came to your front, massaging a soft spot that only one other had. He rolled in the softest of rhythms, circling purposefully slow. Then quick. The pleasure bloomed-- the ugliest of flowers that you told yourself you wouldn’t have again. That you would devote yourself to Eir, swear off all thoughts of lust and love. All at once, Ivar stopped. He drew his fingers back from massaging your soaked walls and flicked your clit with a soft laugh. 

“So?” 

“No,” you lowered your hips, yipping as you settled against the bulge between Ivar’s legs. “I should-- I should go.” 

“Then go.” 

You didn’t move. No, your hands were knit to Ivar’s shoulders like thread and cloth.

"That is what I thought." You felt frozen in place even as he pulled himself free of his pants and fondled his shaft. The tip of his cock eased along your lips: forward, backward, and forward again. 

“If you stay,” Ivar breathed, slapping his cock against your mound. His breath was warm against your chest, urging you to slide your chest against his. Oh, you knew you were doomed. The memory of sex was all too enticing. Your body clenched, aching at the memory of how it felt. “I won’t let you go.” 

And though he said that, you reached between your legs and lined the warm head of his cock with your aching hole. He snapped your hips down an instant later, his wide grin widening with every bit of his cock that filled your core. Your fingers cringed on his shoulders as he seated himself comfortably in your cunt. Your lips parted, shaking loose noises that you knew would wake up his brothers. 

“Hush,” he leaned in, rocking his hips despite the pain wracking up his thigh. Your hips shifted, rolling down along his cock alone. He didn’t even have to move, no, you were too happy to do this on your own. His thumb found your nub again, spazzing along the little button as you rode him. You missed how it felt: how his warm words filled your soul with bliss, and his dick filled the places you didn’t know needed to be filled. It was what Ivar did-- with his voice, as desirable and silky as honey. 

It ruptured a hole straight through you. Blossoming low in your belly, the pleasure ripped through your cunt. Your body clamped on his, working his orgasm free. He seized your chin, aiming it toward him. And though your unseeing eyes could only see the shadows of his face, your mind was scarred by the memory of his haughty eyes and the bob and weave of his head. You didn't need to see to know what he was about to say next. “You’re mine.” 

You were wrong for this. But it was too late to take it back.

[aressida]

My entry: The True Legacy of my forebears - Unraveling some facts from myths. Pt 2. - Aressida. 20.9.24.

I was standing here, tracing the bloodlines from both my mother’s and father’s sides, uncovering the rich tapestry of my ancestry.

I first discovered my Viking roots last April, tracing them back to the 9th century. It all began with the legendary figures of Ragnar and Aslaug. From there, I found Ivar and his son, which led me to the beginnings of the Montgomery Clan.

My exploration took me further back to Olaf the White, a notable Viking leader known for his conquests in Ireland and the Hebrides, and his wife Aud, whose lineage ties into the saga of Norse exploration.

I eventually traced my ancestry all the way back to Ketil and Kari Fornjotur, a legendary figure said to be one of the first settlers in Iceland.

My roots run deep through Norwegian, Icelandic, Scottish, and Finnish lines, alongside connections to the Laxdaela Saga, Eyrbyggja Saga, Eirik the Red’s Saga, and Landnamabok, all of which are rich with tales of exploration, conflict, and the resilience of the Norse spirit.

When I think of Lagertha, like in the TV series Vikings, I see her as a prominent figure in the Saga of Ragnar Lodbrok. She is portrayed as a fierce shieldmaiden and devoted wife of Ragnar. I did adore her spirit. However, her historical existence is a matter of debate among scholars. While some suggest she may have been inspired by real women warriors from Viking culture, no concrete evidence confirms she was an actual person. So, while Lagertha embodies the indomitable spirit of Viking warriors, I cannot definitively claim she existed in history.

I am also diving deeper into Ivar, who frequently appears in The Tale of Ragnar's Sons and The Saga of Ragnar Lodbrok. From what I have gathered, he is depicted as highly intelligent and strategic, compensating for any limitations he faced. I see how his saga reveals a complex character, highlighting his cunning, cruelty, and strong leadership in Viking warfare. Ivar was known for leading the Great Heathen Army in England, where he played a pivotal role in the Viking conquests. That’s what I know so far.

I also traced some of my bloodlines back to Cornwall, where the Cornish miners lived, and Devon, particularly tied to the early Celtic people and the Kingdom of Dumnonia.

Dumnonia is sometimes associated with Arthurian legend and ancient Celtic royalty, even linking to Switzerland. The history of Cornwall and Devon was shaped by their resistance to Anglo-Saxon invasions, the spread of Christianity, and connections to broader Celtic and Viking cultures.

On my maternal side, the legendary Vikings primarily focused their activities in Northumbria and East Anglia, while my paternal side appears rooted in the southwest of England, where Cornwall and Devon were not part of the main Norse-controlled territories. From what I have learned so far, it seems unlikely there were close familial ties between the Norse and Celts on both sides of my ancestry. Though they interacted through trade, raids, and cultural exchanges, their connections often leaned more toward adversarial or distant.

There are some genealogical roadblocks I am facing, and I am still searching for connections further back in my family line. This means I will need to explore more resources to uncover more information.

I only began discovering these connections earlier this year, and it is been a journey filled with chaos and determination to carve out the time for this exploration. Each new piece of history I uncover adds depth to my understanding of who I am and where I come from.

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-> next for pt.3 will be about the connections between the Nazis and the Freemasonry. (My great-grandfather was a master craft 33rd degree. Yikes!) <-