#nikolas lush

[togetherhearted]

Could you do Nikola, Thomas Edison (if you write about him) and Buddha with “I NEED CUDDLES” fluff prompt?

Ohoh~ I do write for everyone![As long as I have some informations about]

Hope it is fine!

MILESTONE SPECIAL:

I NEED CUDDLES

With a whine and pretty puppy eyes you had repeatedly patted the empty space next to you.Your bed was warm but lacked something;your boyfriend. -I need cuddles!!-You announced as your eyes met the bright ones of your boyfriend Nikola. -Can you stop working and come to bed already?- Nikola turned his head to you;Then his body and chair followed -Alright then. Can't exactly deny if you keep looking at me with those eyes- He got up -Science can wait for a night.

Edison, a brilliant inventor and secret cuddle lover;he hid his guilty pleasure to his fellow scientists.He showed his warmed side only to you. He wasn't like this at first, too busy with discovering;You gave him a taste and now he was addicted. He wasn't built like a fighter, still he had the strenght to lift you, princess style, direction your bedroom. -I need cuddles!- Edison shouted with a smug smile. You huffed and your eyes rolled at his enthusiasm. Your arms secured around his neck.

After a chill day Buddha was walking in his bedroom;steps lazy and quiet -I need cuddles- He joked, imitating you during your neediest moments. Your eyes left the book you were engrossed currently.You looked at him -Ah-ah very funny- Buddha crawled on the bed;setting himself pretty much on top of you -I need cuddles- He insisted with a smile;Your book now off your hands and threw on the floor -Pay attention to me- Your hands played with his long, lush hair -You are insufferable- -I'm just actin like you. You need thing- A smile crept on your face as Buddha cuddled with you.

[kendsleyauthor]

Any character for 3 👀💕

DEITY OF IDIOTS

Godlike Universe (Cameron, Brielle)

~1000 words

G/t dialogue prompt list

Thank you for the prompt!! 💕

Cameron finds himself in a sizeshifting predicament and fails ever perception check thrown his way 🥰

@marydublinauthor 🌸

“Cameron! Cam!”

Brielle’s voice sounded strange. Distant. He might have sank back into sleep if not for a small, incessant tap on his face. Sighing, he lifted a hand to brush it away and was met with something soft that squirmed between his fingers and his cheek. The thing hurriedly evaded his touch and left him in peace.

“Cam, stop it!” Brielle snapped, sounding further away.

Drawing a deep breath, he opened his eyes. The lush forest canopy hung overhead, allowing glimpses of clear blue sky. As his groggy mind gained traction, he realized that something was… off. He pushed himself to sit up and squinted around.

A flash of movement disappeared behind a tree, but he was briefly too distracted to pursue it. The trees seemed much smaller than they should have been. If he stood, he might be able to reach up and touch the higher branches. That certainly was not the case before.

“Bri?” he called, remembering they’d been together.

“I’m here!” Her voice was still odd—so that part wasn’t a dream.

Shifting to hands and knees, he followed the sound of her voice, so low to the ground. He flinched as her face—remarkably tiny—peered out from behind the tree where he had caught movement. She beheld him with round eyes, cheeks absent of color. She stepped slowly into full view, as though it took her a great deal of effort.

He regarded her for two stunned seconds of silence before he blurted, “How did you get so small?”

Her expression twisted incredulously, and before she could sputter out an answer, instinct slammed into Cameron like a rush of wildfire. She looked so vulnerable from where he knelt. He reached for her, intending to bring her off the ground and closer to him. Safer.

Once again, he experienced the little squirming sensation against his fingers as he closed his hand around her and brought her closer to eye level. Except this time, her shriek was wordless, and she wouldn’t stop moving.

“Hold still,” he grunted, cupping his other hand around her to prevent a fall.

“Put me down!” She shoved at his free hand and attempted to kick, but her legs were tangled in her skirt. 

“Calm down,” he said in a voice that wasn’t remotely calm. “It’s just me”

“I know that, but you have no clue what you’re doing! Let go!”

No chance of that. He compromised by relinquishing his grip enough to make her drop into the pit of his cupped palms. She caught her breath and glared at him, her face now fully flushed pink. He couldn’t help but marvel at her—the girl he had known most of his life, small enough to fit in his hands.

“How did this happen?” he whispered.

“Nothing happened to me! You’re the size of a deity!”

“Oh.” He took another cursory glance at his surroundings. That made far more sense, though only marginally. Distracted by the shiver of her body against his palms, he cocked his head. “You never look this frightened with Nikolas,” he pointed out.

To his surprise, she laughed through the tremor of her voice. “Look at you—always accusing Nikolas of being impetuous with his grabbing, and somehow you’re even worse.”

It was his turn for his face to flush. Although he wanted to argue, he bit his tongue, knowing he might frighten her further. He suddenly felt silly. He was supposed to be the collected one. The logical one. In his defense, his head was still cloudy from whatever slumber that Brielle had pulled him out of. 

As steadily as he could manage, he began to lower his hands to let her back down onto the forest floor.

“Wait!” Her voice made him freeze. “Stop. I prefer not to shout myself hoarse talking to you from the ground. If you promise to be careful, I’ll stay here. And gods, Cameron, hold your hands still—you’re shaking worse than I am.”

Tentative, he lifted her back to a comfortable height. She sat back and fixed her skirt, folding her arms loosely over her bent knees. Considering how her gaze drilled him up and down, he didn’t feel quite so bad about staring at her.

“What happened?” he asked, frowning to remember. “The last thing… I ate that plum-thing, right? Or was that a dream?”

“You ate it, alright. No more than a second after you swallowed it, you collapsed. A sort of shimmering light covered your body—as though it came from inside of you. The next thing I knew, you started growing. You were dead to the world for about five minutes.”

The memory began to lose its haziness. They had been foraging the fruit-bearing trees when they found a sapling that bore a single plum. Although it had appeared outwardly ordinary, something had drawn Cameron to it. He supposed he understood why now—enchanted food had a way of enticing unwitting mortal mouths.

He huffed. “Can nothing be normal in this forest?” He gave her a pained look of horror. “Am I a deity now?”

“The deity of idiots, maybe,” she said helpfully.

He rolled his eyes, chuckling despite himself. “Obviously you’re not afraid of me anymore. Hooray.”

Brielle’s cheeky grin faltered a bit, and she stared even harder at him, almost breathless. He glanced away self-consciously, wondering how Nikolas managed to hold any semblance of confidence when there was so much of him to gawk at.

“Did I grow an extra eye, too?” Cameron asked. 

“No.” She smiled sweetly and dropped a hand beside her to pat his palm. “I’m just noticing that your eyelashes are even more darling at this size.”

Another laugh coursed through him—and he swore he could feel how much further his voice carried. His heart gave a nervous stammer at the thought that this could be permanent. 

“I suppose we should find Nikolas,” Brielle said, clearly of the same mind. “Stand up—carefully.”

[chartreuseian]

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don't be shy and share anyway! 

Tagged by @truedairship and @tinknevertalks. Love to you both ❤️❤️❤️

I'm going with the ten most recent ones I've written rather than posted. And I tried to do ten different fics (which was hard because I write a lot for one and then move on). Some of them are sexy and have a few references to unclothed sexy times but nothing too scary I hope.

1. Not Ever (from the Dread Queen AU that isn't actually a story yet)

While Nikola’s walk so far has been familiar, this final barrier is entirely new to him. As he approaches he feels his feet slow as his heart rate picks up and despite his best efforts, his palms grow sweaty. The night is quiet, made doubly so by the thick walls of her chambers but there is a stillness to it that he wishes he could find in himself too. Instead the only thing in his chest is his erratic, unpredictable heart that seems to want to tear out of his chest now that it knows the object of his affections is so near. Really, Nikola thinks as his toes curl into the lush rugs that line her chamber floor, he should have a better handle on things by now. In the months since his first summons he has done what he can to get a hold of himself and while he feels he has made significant improvements, he also suspects his Queen delights in finding new ways to turn the screws on his devotion. Almost immediately after he thinks it, Nikola feels his cheeks colour. It is an ungracious thought, unseemly given how benevolently she tolerates his need to be near her. Nothing is ever enough to truly quench his desire, but she lets him kneel for hours on end and it is a greater gift than he knows how to accept. Yet he is greedy and no matter how much she offers, he always wants more.

2. Closing Time (which is also an AU that is not yet an AU - Helen owns a bookshop come library, Nikola opens up a coffee shop next door and they hate each other a lot to start out)

Four days later the skirt arrived. Four days after that she wore it. Four hours before close, she found herself all but cornered and giddy with the prospect of the game afoot. The heavy tread of his furious steps as he marched through the store were more than enough to have Helen hiding her grin behind the hardback she was shelving. She’d be waiting for what felt like an eternity, her mind racing with the possibility of what he might do when he found her. And judging by her growl, she was unlikely to be disappointed. Nikola all but sprang at her, his eyes wild and his lips pressed into a thin, harsh line. She stopped him with the edge of the book she held, pressing it against his chest as he tried to swoop in. For a moment silence reigned and only when she was certain he was just about ready to explode with his fury did she smile, cock her head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “Hello, Nikola.”

3. In Case You Were Wondering (yet another AU no one asked for in which Helen and James and Nikola become A Thing back in Victorian times and it carries on into the future too)

“I think,” Helen said in a mockingly loud whisper, “our dear Mr. Tesla is jealous.” She finished the statement with a flurry of giggles, ducking her head forwards into the crook of James’s neck. Despite himself, he grinned, his body warm and relaxed from the liberal pours of brandy Helen had already indulged him with. She was on his lap, her weight only adding to the pleasant sort of floating sensation that had taken over his body and the sensation of her laughter made his skin tingle in the most delightful of ways. Nikola’s dark look only added to the effect of it all. Chuckling to himself and tightening his grip on Helen’s waist as she shifted in his embrace, he inclined his head towards their friend who was sitting opposite them, brooding and sullen. “Jealous you say,” he murmured, quirking an eyebrow when Nikola, apparently unable to resist, shot a darting glance their way. At being caught, he flushed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. James knew well enough that his continual crossing and uncrossing of legs was a sure sign of his arousal and the idea of it only served to make his own desire burn more brightly. He did not, of course, regret his commitment to Helen, but on occasion he found himself looking at the sharpness of Nikola’s face in profile and a strange pang would overcome him.

4. A Lesson in Something - An exercise in health (this is the very last chapter I wrote for this series!)

John is the one who finds her. The day itself hadn’t been particularly notable, heavy grey clouds lingering in the sky as they fought valiantly to keep the sun from shining. Throughout the house things had been… well, normal enough. A few residents seemed to chafe at the restraint of the poor weather, but on the whole, John had not thought anything to be amiss. Perhaps if James were home, he will think to himself later. Perhaps he might have noticed something was awry. But James was not home, called away two nights before by an urgent missive and a breathless messenger not long after the three of them had tumbled into bed together. Helen had kissed him on the cheek before sliding into John’s arms, giving their departing lover a saucy little grin as if to remind him of what he was forgoing for the sake of his work. When he finds her, however, none of those thoughts occur to him. “Helen…” Her name falls uselessly from his lips as he surges forwards, falling heavily to his knees beside her limp frame.

5. Five sparks that didn't ignite (and one that finally did) (Helen + Nikola + new Sanctuary + Nubbins)

Pausing the in the doorway, Helen couldn’t help but smile at the hunched figure in the far corner of the darkened lab. She was certain he would have heard her approach but she hesitated nonetheless. Nikola was never particularly pleasant to be around when he’d pulled an all-nighter. Taking the fact that he hadn’t immediately offered her a dirty look for interrupting as an invitation, she stepped across the threshold. “Good morning, Nikola.” He grunted but did not turn. “If you say so…” Keeping her pace measured, she smiled as she picked out a path amongst the wreckage of whatever experiment he was tearing apart. “Do you object to the ‘morning’ part, or that it is good?” He grunted again and she chuckled, coming to a stop beside him.

6. An Acquired Taste - Seasons (Helen's POV from my SHHAH rewrite)

Stamping her foot and shifting her weight, Helen did her best not to let the feeling of foolishness that swelled inside her show. It would not do, she had already decided, to behave as if she was trying to achieve something scandalous or outrageous. If she did, then it would imply that the reason she was standing out in the snow beside the large doors to one of Oxford’s esteemed colleges was anything less than perfectly innocent. And it was innocent. Truly. Even if she could hear a small voice in the back of her head calling out her recklessness that sounded frustratingly like her father. Sighing to herself, Helen straightened her shoulders and tried to make it look like she was not loitering. Someone would come along soon enough, she assured herself. And then she’d be able to ask them to relay her message. After all, she’d only been waiting ten minutes so far.

7. She Had Him At Hello - Colour Theory (SHHAH rewrite but Nikola's POV)

The day Nikola Tesla’s life changed forever was, in actual fact, a rather mundane day. Oxford was its usual dreary shade of grey and, as he hurried up the steps towards the library in search of warmth and an illusive text, he gave little thought to the layer of gold and brown leaves underfoot. The last beauty of autumn had long since departed, leaving behind a thick sludge of decay that he was particularly distressed to find he was almost always tracking into his rooms. Sighing, he drew his coat around him more tightly and ducked his head. When he reached them, the stairs shone faintly with the latest smatterings of rain, the water filthy with the mud of the students who had come before him. It was another of those awful English things he had not quite come to terms with yet, sitting along side their obsession with insipid tea and that hideous swill Mr Griffin seemed quite adamant that Nikola would come to love. He was halfway up the stairs (and halfway through a bitter, internal grumbling about having to listen to the snoring of his neighbour for the third night in a row) when a flash of something so bright and so shocking he might have dreamed it caught his eye. Red. No. Not red.

8. Divine Intervention (yet another AU but this time Helen has wings...)

Leaning back, Helen kicked her legs absently as her gaze slide from the glowing city before her to thick blanket of clouds above her that blotted out the stars she knew hid behind it all. It would likely rain before the night was out, but she didn’t much mind. There was something lovely about the night watch when a storm hit. She took a deep breath, shaking her golden curls back as a small breeze tried to throw them across her face once more. The night was perfectly still, perfectly quiet, and even the few humans who stumbled (drunkenly, she knew) between the buildings on the edge of the city seemed to recognise the need to keep their voices to a hushed murmur. In the distance she could see the glittering cathedral, standing as a silent observer in the middle of it all. Even from her place on the high, crumbling walls that ringed the city she could see the light of its hundred torches as they blazed in each window. The priests who tended to them would be working through the night to keep them lit once the storm hit and she half wished she could tell them to take the night off once the worst of the weather rolled in. Instead, she turned to look over her shoulder, taking a cursory glance towards the dark, swaying trees of the forest that loomed with a thick, unrelenting sort of darkness. Watching the forest was certainly more her duty than watching the city itself, but the stillness of the world beyond the wall was as it always was: complete.

9. Secret Room - Post-it notes from hell (because who doesn't love some secret room smut?)

When she strides into her office, face blank but fists curled, Nikola is hardly surprised. He’d known he would be in trouble before she left, and when she’d stopped responding to his text messages nearly 12 hours ago (innocent enough, though he trusted her to hear the wicked undertones he’d been trying for) his fate had been sealed. Knowing this, however, and seeing his doom come striding towards him, he now knows are entirely different things. But, because her two day absence has made him hungry for her and his hunger often makes him bold (which was the reasoning he gave whenever she deigned to bring up Rome and his poor showing), he does not cower as he knows she would like. In fact, he leans back in her chair and lifts his feet until they perch on the edge of her desk. It earns him a flicker of ire that makes his skin grow hot, but he refuses to let it show. “Good afternoon, Helen,” he says smoothly, raising his hands to lace behind his head as he lounges. “You’re back early. Heinrich wasn’t expecting you until after dinner.” She says nothing, striding around the desk and grabbing the back of her (his) chair.

10. Pretty Boy part 2 (a sequel to my February story when Nikola wore pretty clothes and was basically Helen's little pet)

He is restless as he takes yet another turn around the enormous hotel room she had organised for them and though it is richly appointed (and she’s provided more books than he could possibly read in the two days they’ll be staying) Nikola finds it just about impossible to still the restless fraying of his mind. Particularly when the rain simply will not stop lashing at the windows. The storm, relentless and loud, crackles through the air with enough force that he can all but feel the electricity prickling along his arms. There is a part of him that yearns to throw open the wide doors to their balcony and step out into fray but even though hours have passed since she told him to stay put, her words echo against skull with the same intensity as if she had just said it. And yes, he knows that the balcony cannot reasonably be considered ‘leaving’ their suite, yet he does not even dare reach for the handles. Turning away from the sight of the storm, Nikola runs his hands down his stomach, trying to let the fine silk of his latest robe distract him from his disquiet and the knowledge that she is now 12 minutes late. It is a scarlet thing, the colour like a splash of blood that he thinks makes his skin look beautifully pale. Helen too had seemed to enjoy the effect, making him turn slowly in place after she’d dressed him in it. She had revelled in him, lounging half dressed on the bed as he’d inspected his gift in the enormous, ornate mirror across from the palatial bed.

I think everyone I know has been tagged, so consider this a second tag for all of you so I can see your fun writings!

[thestorieswesay]

For the ask game!

4 with and I was catching my breath (and I was catching my death), 6 with never found the answer (but we knew one thing), 8, 23, 26, 41

4. What detail in and I was catching my breath (and I was catching my death) are you really proud of?

Throughout the fic, when the ghost-possessing-Helen's-body is touching Nikola, there's the repetition of the phrase 'Helen's hands' - "You don't know anything!" She cries again, raking Helen's sharp nails down his sides, making him gasp... And so forth. It only starts being referred to in this detached, clinical manner once he realizes Helen is being possessed. And it continues throughout the entire fic until she leaves her.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of never found the answer (but we knew one thing) that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

I just really want to share this small, behind-the-scenes tidbit - I was visiting my best friend's house (the one who introduced me to Sanctuary) and I had this really, super-vivid dream about Jonathon Young baking bread. He was in an undershirt and trousers, flour on his arms and clothes and face and hair. I could see the beautiful dancer's muscles of his graceful arms flexing and kneading the dough. I have no idea what spawned it or why it was so AMAZINGLY BLAZED ACROSS MY SUBCONCIOUS MIND, but there it was. I knew I had to write it down, to channel it somehow, and, voila!, the intro scene to that fic was born!

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

I have a whole Spotify playlist that consists of 47 songs that I have either used in fics or plan to use in fics about Nikola Tesla. The top songs I have not used yet but want to (for Teslen fics) are Nobody Else Will Be There by The National, Enough To Go By by Vienna Teng, La Belle Fleur Sauvage by Lord Huron, and If We Were Vampires by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit!

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

I have so many plans to do so many different kinds of fics in this fandom, from the Slavery AU to the Apathy Wasting Disease and the Blood Cure to the dark!James fics that only two other people seem to like. But honestly, I have never written a couple getting married, not ever in my whole life, but I think I would like to write that for Teslen. (I really want that Figure Skating AU that was floated yesterday but I know nothing about skating other than it's tricky and looks incredibly sexy).

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

This is a difficult one for me because I've written one (1) fic that was pretty much 100% dialogue (Completely Pointless, Stargate Universe) and it was really hard to do. I love writing dialogue because I feel like that's my number one strength in writing, making phrases that sound like something the character would say, in the actor's voice. I think it would be much, much more difficult for me to write a fic with NO dialogue at all, so I think I will take the former, lol.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Nine Times Nikola Tesla Kneels by @chartreuseian blew me away. It was so sexy, so intimate, and so graceful. Effortless, flowing dialogue and gorgeous, lush prose. It was hot, it was tender, it was romantic, it was dangerous, it was... delicious in every way. It could not have been more sensual if it had actually contained explicit sex. It didn't need to be explicit to be the sexiest fic I've ever read. The radical notion of non-sexual, graphic passion. My god.

[europeas20]

Exploring Varna: Your Ultimate Holiday Destination

Nestled along the picturesque coastline of the Black Sea, Varna stands as a beacon of cultural richness and natural beauty, beckoning travelers from around the globe. With its sun-kissed beaches, historical landmarks, vibrant nightlife, and delectable cuisine, Varna offers a quintessential holiday experience like no other.#VarnaVacay #ExploreVarna #BeachLifeVarna #SunnySeasideVarna #VibrantVarna #CultureAndCalm #VarnaAdventures #SeaAndSunshine #DiscoverVarna #BulgariaGetaway Varna boasts some of the most captivating beaches in Europe, each offering its own unique charm. From the lively atmosphere of Golden Sands Beach to the serene shores of Albena Beach, there's a stretch of sand to suit every taste. Dive into the crystalline waters for a refreshing swim, bask in the warm sun, or indulge in thrilling water sports adventures like jet skiing and parasailing.

History buffs will find themselves enraptured by Varna's wealth of historical sites. Explore the remnants of ancient civilizations at the Archaeological Museum, home to the world-famous Gold of Varna, one of the oldest gold treasures ever discovered. Wander through the cobbled streets of the Old Town, where Byzantine, Ottoman, and Bulgarian influences converge, and marvel at architectural marvels like the Cathedral of the Assumption and the Roman Thermae.

No holiday in Varna is complete without savoring its delectable cuisine. Feast on fresh seafood delicacies at seaside taverns, where grilled fish and succulent shellfish take center stage. Sample traditional Bulgarian dishes like banitsa (cheese-filled pastry) and shopska salad, bursting with vibrant flavors. Wash it all down with a glass of rakia, the beloved Bulgarian brandy, for a true taste of the region.

As the sun sets, Varna transforms into a playground for night owls seeking entertainment and excitement. Dive into the pulsating rhythm of the city's nightlife scene, where beach clubs, bars, and discotheques come alive with music and merriment. Dance the night away to the beats of international DJs, sip cocktails beneath the stars, or unwind with a leisurely stroll along the illuminated promenade.

Venture beyond the city limits to discover Varna's breathtaking natural wonders. Embark on a scenic drive along the Black Sea coast to Cape Kaliakra, where dramatic cliffs plunge into the azure waters below. Explore the lush greenery of the Golden Sands Nature Park, home to diverse flora and fauna, or hike to the summit of Mount St. Nikola for panoramic views of the coastline.

When planning your holiday in Varna, consider visiting during the shoulder seasons of spring or autumn to avoid the crowds and enjoy milder weather. Be sure to pack sunscreen, swimwear, and comfortable walking shoes for exploring the city and its surrounding attractions. Additionally, familiarize yourself with local customs and etiquette to ensure a respectful and enjoyable experience for all. In conclusion, Varna offers a captivating blend of sun, sea, culture, and adventure, making it the perfect holiday destination for travelers seeking an unforgettable escape.

Whether you're relaxing on the beach, delving into history, or dancing the night away, Varna promises a truly memorable experience that will leave you longing to return time and time again.

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[rassilonwatchathon]

It's the 9 year anniversary of The Watch-A-Thon of Rassilon, so this month we're sharing our older episodes!

FOURTH DOCTOR SEASON EIGHTEEN (September 17th, 2019-March 29th, 2020) Episode 110- The Leisure Hive (Oops! All Age Berries) Episode 111- Meglos (Lush. Aggressive. Vegetation.) Episode 112- Full Circle (This All Sciences Correctly) w/ Adam Clegg Episode 113- State of Decay (Say Yes to the Sacrificial Dress) w/ @radiantbaby Episode 114- Warriors’ Gate (The Backblast Backlash Bounces Back) w/ @mgoldentumbls & R. Alan Siler Episode 115- The Keeper of Traken (All Hail the Mouse) w/ @benpaddon Episode 116- Logopolis (The Master of Dad Jokes) w/ Ashley Raburn & @gonzarro Fourth Doctor Special- The Definite Article (This Was Really Hard) w/ @truestoriesaboutme PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 1- Spyfall: Part One (Let Me Vore That For You) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 2- Spyfall: Part Two (Vore Daddy's Got Mommy Issues) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 3- Orphan 55 (Turns Out It's Man!) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 4- Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror (A Good Title) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 5- Fugitive of the Judoon (A Delightful Curveball) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 6- Praxeus (Fear and Wonder) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 7- Can You Hear Me? (Digital Humor) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 8- The Haunting of Villa Diodati (A Season of Surprises) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 9- Ascension of the Cybermen (Brendan Who?) Fifth Anniversary Special- Spyfall: Part One (Let Me Vore That For You) PATREON EXCLUSIVE New Who Review Episode 10- The Timeless Children (Why, Though?) K9 and Company- A Girl’s Best Friend (I'm Gonna Have That Boy!) PATREON EXCLUSIVE Bonus Episode 5- The Therovian Quest (Horton F-cked A Who)

[expectantdaddies]

In the frigid realm of the Iron Tundra, where the biting winds howl and the frozen landscape stretches as far as the eye can see, Tsar Nikola reigns with an iron fist. The harsh conditions have forged his people into a resilient, unyielding force, much like their ruler. Life in the Iron Tundra is a constant battle against the elements, and scarcity is a way of life.

Yet even among this unforgiving backdrop, Tsar Nikola chooses to live a spartan existence. He believes that his subjects should not bear the burden of hardship alone, and that their ruler must lead by example. His austere lifestyle serves as a beacon of strength and resilience for his people, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, they can endure.

When it comes to matters of the heart, Tsar Nikola is equally uncompromising. He had set strict criteria for his potential matchmakers: the ideal candidate must be worthy of ruling by his side, adaptable to the rigors of tundra life, and capable of bringing fresh perspectives to his icy kingdom.

However, finding a suitable match proves to be a challenge. The Iron Tundra's remote location and unforgiving climate make it an unappealing prospect for most eligible royal bachelors. Most of the men who were willing to marry the Tsar were either desperate social climbers or hard, stern military veterans like the Tsar.

To Tsar Nikola's surprise, one name rose above the rest: Prince Emile of Hesperia. Hailing from a wealthy sun-kissed land far to the south known for its rich literature and indulgent lifestyle, Emile seems an unlikely choice. As the second son of Hesperia's ruler, he is better known for his intellectual pursuits rather than his martial prowess. Rumors abound that the prince had penned numerous works under various pseudonyms, establishing himself as a prolific author and poet.

Yet despite their contrasting backgrounds, Tsar Nikola found himself drawn to Prince Emile. During their personal meetings, the Hesperian prince's charm and wit shone through, captivating the stern tsar. In a bold move, Nikola chose Emile as his consort, much to the surprise of both their courts.

The royal wedding is a grand affair, celebrated twice - once in the Ice Palace of the Iron Tundra, and again in the lush gardens of Hesperia's capital. As the newlyweds settle into their new life together, Prince Emile throws himself into learning the languages and customs of his adopted homeland. He pours over ancient tomes and manuscripts, determined to translate the works of Hesperian authors for the benefit of Nikola's subjects. He also hosts various artists, writers, and intellectuals to visit the Iron Tundra's court and be inspired to create by the harsh landscape and hardy people of the land.

However, it is in the privacy of their chambers where Tsar Nikola discovers another side to his new husband. Prince Emile, it seems, is a skilled lover, wooing the tsar with soulful poems and sensual melodies played on the Hesperian guitar. He proves that the stereotype of the passionate Hesperian lover is not mere legend, leaving Nikola breathless with desire.

As the years pass, Tsar Nikola's belly swells with child after child, a testament to Emile's virility and the strength of their union. Court observers note that the once-stern ruler seems happier, a soft smile playing on his lips as he cradles his growing family. At his side, his consort is constantly either writing something, or whispering something into the Tsar's ear that makes him think... or even laugh.

If you like my work, Buy Me a Coffee.

Tsar Nikola, pregnant royal.

If you like my work, Buy Me a Coffee.

[denimbex1986]

'GamesRadar+ Verdict Taut and sprawling, riveting and haunting: firing on all cylinders, Nolan tackles world-changing history with fearsome force and focus.

Not for the first time, David Bowie knew the score. Back in The Prestige, his Nikola Tesla warned Robert Angier about the high cost of his revolutionary fixations. Elsewhere in Christopher Nolan’s filmography, the Joker saw that Batman’s eccentric approach to reducing crime rates might change things – ‘forever’.

Obsession, escalation, consequence… For his 12th feature, Nolan invests his long-standing fascinations with immense real-world weight in the service of a rare thing, a copper-bottomed auteur film from a director still able to greenlight such projects on a vast scale. Part first-person psychological drama, part historical enquiry, part courtroom drama, Oppenheimer is a colossal achievement: an old-school epic executed with blockbuster verve, sparking with ideas-rich, dialogue-driven substance.

We first see J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) in the rain, gaunt and haunted. Swiftly, periods of his life criss-cross like ripple effects. Between his student years and the '50s hearings where he is accused of Communist sympathies, his unorthodox ambition to bring peace to wartime with the bomb changes the world (forever).

Reauthoring biopic conventions, Nolan’s interest in splintered psyches holds firm. Ambitious and ambiguous, a never-better Murphy plays Oppenheimer as magnetically complex, humanised beneath his iconic hat. Yet this is no one-man show. Robert Downey Jr. is brashly brilliant as Oppie’s opponent Lewis Strauss (chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission), Matt Damon subtle as Manhattan Project director Leslie Groves. Emily Blunt imbues Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty with contained force, while Florence Pugh brings bite to psychiatrist Jean Tatlock, his sometime lover.

Nolan’s flair for integrating story, style, and subtext ensures the bulging cast and multi-stranded plot never break the film’s back. Eliding eras, he favours experiential immersion over a docu-style chronological approach. DoP Hoyte van Hoytema’s uses of colour and glistening black-and-white elegantly juggle viewpoints, with dazzling visuals evoking Oppenheimer’s quantum-fired mindset. Cut tight, the narrative merges grim inevitability with tension, retrospection with ticking-clock intensity. Ludwig Göransson’s lush, ominous score binds the extremes immaculately.

With espionage subtexts and gallows humour also interwoven, the film’s cumulative power is matched by the potency of Nolan’s questioning. Possibly the most viscerally intense experience you’ll have in a cinema this year, the Trinity test in particular arrives fraught with uncertainty. Might the test inadvertently spark the world’s end? Well, it didn’t - yet. Even as Oppenheimer grips in the moment, Nolan ensures the aftershocks of its story reverberate down the years, speaking loudly to today.

Oppenheimer is in UK and US cinemas from July 21.'

[tinknevertalks]

I really need to update here when I post chapters.

I've updated Of Sequins and Scalpels (twice) since my last fic post, so have two chapters.

Chapter 33: When Kate has to do some work as Helen's PA person.

Chapter 34: Saturday night, and Nikola realises how deep things could go.

Ok, so these have been up for a while, but I just wanted a record of them here too. I hope you all enjoy. :)

[eliasbouchardslut]

Elias works at lush and when he comes over to me to try to put the new moisturizer on my hand I present him with my pussy instead and tell him to get to work

[dirigibird]

Please. Please draw the lonely ship man. Please. I refuse to believe he is gone. He is here in hearts. Pretty please?

OH WHAT A MOOD. i miss that dumbass bastard already. 

ive got a few comics from…back in season 3, i think? that i never got around to lining? but meanwhile have this

hes alone on his boat and having a great time. probably looking forward to brunch and yeeting some poor sailor into the lonely

[mascwhump]

mallory for the ask game thing plz

Yay I was hoping someone would ask

1. Favorite thing about them

Fuck, I don’t know. Probably how much he cares about Sasha. He also donates a shit ton of money to charity

2. Least favorite thing about them

*gestures wildly at everything*

3. Favorite line

I’m not digging for it but probably when he just assumed that Charlie was into dudes and was basically like “so do u like boys? 🥺”

4. BrOTP

Him and Nikolas lol. I feel like they get up to some dumb shit even though Nikolas hardly speaks

5. OTP

Guess.

6. nOTP

This is a hard one. I honestly don’t have an answer.

7. Random headcanon

Is it really a headcanon if he’s mine? Anyway, the whole Lush thing. I just love the idea of him strolling into a Lush and losing his shit over new bath bombs

8. Unpopular opinion

Again, he’s mine, so idk what’s an unpopular opinion. Maybe the fact that he’s so fucking attractive

9. Song I associate with them

10. Favorite picture of them

Well I already posted a ton of my favorite face claim pics of him so here’s this fucking gif again

[ot5ismyhome]

5. Crackle with Electricity

To read from beginning click here.

*****

Steve drove the car into the underground parking lot of Oheka castle. A chauffeur collected their car and the concierge greeted them. They called for the bellboy to bring their belongings but Steve waved him off saying they weren’t carrying anything. The concierge led them into the elevator. They were led to the front desk where Steve was met by a woman who resembled his now temporary assistant.

She was none other than L. T. Koenig, the eldest of the Koenig siblings. She had been Steve’s friend for a long time. When she had heard about Steve requiring an assistant, she had recommended her brother who wanted to expand his horizon. He took leave of his hotel duties to work in The Rogers Innovative temporarily. She greeted them both warmly and called the concierge to escort them to their suite.

Wanda was mesmerized by the grandeur interior designs. She loved the intricate artworks and the elegant art pieces. The stair railing was bronze; shining under the yellow glow of the chandelier. Wanda’s hand glided over the smooth metal as they ascended to the top floor. The corridors were also flushed by the same yellow lighting. The concierge opened the door to their room. To say the rooms were lovely would be an understatement. The antique designed white furniture matched well with the beige and gold wallpaper. The sitting area had a small dining table for two and a pair of sofa sets in the centre. A single plush chair overlooking the window was stationed. The wooden floor was pristine, clean and shining. The room had a pleasant aroma filling it.

Wanda crossed the sitting area to open the door to one of the bed rooms. A single king-size cot adorned the far corner near the windows. Another sofa was placed in one corner of the room, while the other was occupied by a table and a couple of chairs. Newspapers and the latest edition of various magazines littered the table. Wanda excitedly opened the other room to check it out. It was equally and beautifully matching the previous one. Wanda walked inside to open the bathroom door and stood there mesmerized. A single elegant bathtub made of culture marble, supported by the cast iron, stood in the far end. The outside was carved with small details of flowers. An ornate glass adorned the adjacent wall, above the sink. Three rods painted golden rose form the tub and supported an overhead shower. There were small yellow lights on every wall. Wanda looked up and she gasped in delight. Why the fuck is there a chandelier in bathroom she thought to herself.

Wanda returned to the sitting area to see Steve waiting for her. He saw the delight in her eyes and smiled to himself.

“So, what’s the plan for today?”

“We will be trying out personally tailored clothes in about thirty minutes” he said.

Wanda rolled her eyes, “You gotta be kidding.”

“I am not. We are going out tonight and there is a dress code.”

“Okay,” Wanda dragged.

Before she could ask Steve raised his hand silencing her. “No more questions. It’s a surprise.”

…..

“Steve, the place you told? Is two hundred years back?” Wanda asked, checking out her reflection in the mirror. “Oh wait! Are we going back to your time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

After getting dressed up, Steve and Wanda made their way to the Pearsall park. The lush green grass and the neatly trimmed bushes were nothing but a dark outline visible in the dim lights of the park. The gushing of water in the fountain accompanied by the chirping of crickets filled the background. The duo made their way around the park making small talks. He had yet to reveal the surprise to her. He wanted to see the happiness light up her features when she sees it. He was afraid she would find from the late 18th century clothing but Wanda was more interested in making fun of Steve’s age.

They arrived at a small unmarked door at the far corner of the park. When Steve looked around, scanning the surrounding, Wanda realised they were the only one there. The following actions piqued her interest further. Steve knocked twice promptly on the door and waited for a reply. The speakeasy grate was opened to reveal a pair of eyes.

“Password” the voice said.

“Electricity” Steve replied.

The speakeasy grate was closed and the door opened quickly letting them in. The warm inside air was a nice change to the cold winds outside. The man escorted them to the inner room. Wanda couldn’t believe what she saw with her own eyes. The room was strange and weirdly beautiful. It looked like a science fair. A science fair out of the 1940s. Everyone was dressed in clothes belonging to that period. The crackling sound of electricity was heard from time to time in the background. Wanda realised that she was standing in the middle of a science speakeasy.

“Now I get why we are dressed like this” she smiled looking at Steve who returned the smile.

“Let’s check out the inventions,” he said, pulling her to the nearest table.

All the employees were dressed as Nikola exhibiting various inventions of the great scientist. In one corner an ungodly machine was stationed. It was staged to look like it was spewing out clones of the scientist. Near it a death ray was killing off the Tesla clones as they came out. The duo was lost in this new world, as they went from stall to stall looking at the various creations. They crossed the foyer to the dining room. The man led them to a table of two. They were provided with a menu containing equally intriguing dishes. The conversation flowed easily through the dinner. Before they knew it, it was time for dessert and they were on their way back to the hotel.

As soon as they got to their room, Wanda crashed. When she woke up, it was well past noon. This has been the first time she had slept peacefully. She sleepily made her way out of her room to see Steve drinking blood from a packet.

Wanda looked at him with curiosity, “Steve, I have never seen you drink blood. And sometimes you eat human food? How does it work?”

“Well it’s like we need blood for survival and healing. We can’t go for a long period without consuming it. We need it as much as humans need food and water. We sort of eat human food to blend in. But mostly to feel the connection with our past. It helps us keep grounded. It reminds that we were once human.”

“Ohh…” she said. “I was just curious,” she added after an awkward pause.

Steve smiled as he got up to dispose of the plastic packets. “Anything else you got in your mind, kid?”

“Yeah,” Wanda dragged the word. “I have never seen you drinking from a person. I mean-”

Steve chuckled, “I just didn’t want to freak you out. But we do have volunteers now and then.”

“Oh, good vampires” Wanda laughed. “So, what’s for today old man? Which time period are we going?”

Steve was bit taken aback by the nickname but didn’t show it in his face.

“Just get ready. You will love it.”

*****

Chapter 6

[bbrandy2002]

The Night Before Christmas

⛄12 Days of Ficmas: Day 9🎍

Song: Run, Run, Rudolph

Pairing: Liam x Riley with Nikolas

A/N: Just to clarify for those who are not familiar, Nikolas is Liam and Riley's 5 year old son, whom, Drake refers to as the "Little Shit", because the child is, to put it mildly, a little shit.

A/N/N: My laptop freaking crashed the last third of this and I had to finish it by phone...thus, it gets very rushed at the end and was nothing like I had planned.

Masterlist

Summary: Nikolas wreaks havoc on the Christmas gathering in Lythikos, but, an unexpected event may lead to a Christmas miracle.

Writers & Readers : @hopefulmoonobject  @allaboutchoices  @zaffrenotes  @cordonianredruby   @burnsoslow   @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore  @msjr0119   @texaskitten30  @janezillow   @the-soot-sprite   @mskaneko   @blackcatkita  @darley1101  @thecordoniandiaries   @speedyoperarascalparty  @ao719  @cocomaxley  @annekebbphotography  @brightpinkpeppercorn  @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria   @theroyalweisme  @alj4890  @cordoniansgonewild  @god-save-the-keen  @debramcg1106  @emichelle  @innerpostmentality  @dangerouseggseagleartisan @desiree-0816

Perma tags: @emceesynonymroll​ @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @eileendannie @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko

Thank you for allowing me to participate and for organizing this event @leelee10898​

-----------

Lavish displays of holiday cheer adorned the Great Room of the Lythikos keep, while the sweet sound of blood hymns were being sung by a local children's choir. A hint of fresh cinnamon and cedar clung to the air and the festive nog, symbolic of the wintery duchy, was plentiful.

Liam was in a particularly cheerful mood this evening, as he glanced near the old stone hearth, where his newly pregnant wife was engaged in gleeful conversation with their closest friends. She was glowing radiantly and the way her eyes flitted when she laughed, it filled his heart. She was the sexiest woman in the room and he'd be damned to hear otherwise. If he could, Liam would stand there all night admiring his wife-the queen of his heart- sipping hot cocoa in between her belting out verses of, Your Skull Is A Wine Cup Ripe For the Taking, with Olivia.

If only...

Liam's attention was diverted to his little love, Nikolas, serving time in the chair beside him, after removing all the forks from Bertrand's prized cutlery display and replacing them with Savannah's tampons and a half eaten Twinkie. The curses and bellows that blared through the phone as the Duke of Ramsford demanded, recompense for this travesty, was unsettling. Liam dutifully arranged for a replacement of the lost cutlery and offered his sincerest of apologies.

That was only yesterday.

His thoughts meandered to the snow ball fight earlier this afternoon, in which Nik defiantly pissed his name in the snow in front of dozens of Lythikosian citizens and camera wielding press. Before Riley could get to him, Nikolas scooped up the fluffy billows, of now yellow flakes, molded them into a ball, and shot an unsuspecting Adelaide in the face. Much to Riley's relief, the lush, Duchess of Krona, mistakenly assumed Maxwell did it as a gesture to get a peak at her 'tinsel'. In return, the younger Beaumont was also served a big helping of Adalaide's own special snow.

Nikolas received a slight scolding before proceeding to remove the charcoal eyes and carrot from Hana's snowman and used them to give it a dick, put Morgana's dog shit in Penelope's ice skates and told Godfrey his face looks like a shriveled up weiner.

It was all becoming too much.

Liam's face dropped as he peaked down at his young prince, who meant more to him than all the opulence and splendor in the world, only to be met by a pouty face staring back at him.

He pondered whether the future King of Cordonia, may one day end up the spare, not out of Nik's desire, but, out of necessity. If Liam could have one wish this Christmas, aside from the health and wellbeing of his little growing family, it would be that he could be the father Nikolas needed. His once cheerful mood took a somber turn as he contemplated whether his drastic attempt to be everything Constantine was not, may have been too drastic. Had he been so laid back, that he lost the respect of his son?

"What do you say to your enemy shaaakkkiiiinnggg...Your Skull Is A Wine Cup Ripe For the Taking", Olivia's soprano voice raised an octave higher, to carry out the last notes of the song. A round of thunderous applause followed for she and the Queen. After taking their bows, Olivia called across the room for Liam, beckoning the King to the chair by the fireplace, where a story book and a Santa hat rested on the seat of the red, velvety chair.

Liam nodded and held up his finger to let Olivia know he needed a moment. He crouched down at eye level with his son, who was still maintaining his disappointed look from his lifelong time out. "Nikolas", his voice soft and endearing, "would you like to help me read Twas the Night Before Christmas?".

"No", he replied petulantly, turning his face away.

Liam let out a heavy sigh as he rose back to his feet and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his sons head. He hated to see Nik so miserable while everyone else enjoyed the holiday gathering, yet, he knew if Nikolas was enjoying himself, everyone else would most likely be miserable.

As Liam rounded the talon tree, stepping up to the large chair, where friends and locals gathered around to hear him read, the little wheels in Nik's head began churning out his plan.

Liam cleared his throat as he opened the first pages of the book; Riley propped herself on the arm rest next to him, one arm drapped around his back. He smiled warmly at her before turning the crisp pages to begin.

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the....snow?", he trailed, confused at the new wording, he glanced over to Olivia for clarification.

"What? The old story was too weak. I had a local author write a more Lythikosian friendly version", she stated matter-of-factly, "now if you would, please continue".

Liam perched his lips as he silently read the next few verses to himself. God help me. He took a deep breath, shook his head and with great hestitation, started over, "Twas the night before Christmas and all through the snow", he paused briefly, "Santa's... fats ass laid dead in the cold".

Riley looked to Olivia who was smiling fondly from ear to ear, her eyes closed, reveling in the moment, seemingly lost in the words. A drunken Drake's short outburst of laughter was the only sound heard in the room. "Heh-heh, Santa's fat ass", he snickered to himself, "he's all dead and shit".

Liam glanced over to Bastien, whom was already pulling out his cell phone to do damage control with the press. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a slight headache beginning to form as Olivia motioned for him to proceed with the reading. He reached for the side table, grabbing a glass of water to moisten his dry lips and in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. Drake's murmurs could still be heard from the back corner of the room, "Sanny Clause got his ass smoked!".

Riley gently rubbed Liam's back, leaning in, "It's Lythikos, my King, these children are accustomed to gory tales...you can do this".

Her reassuring words, gave him the courage he needed to read on about Santa's brutal death and annhilation to the small children seated on the floor before him and nearly the entire Cordonian court. Liam lifted her delicate hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss, then shifted taller in his seat.

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the snow, Santa's fat ass laid dead in the cold. Daggers were swung into his body with flair, in hopes that his reindeer would run away scared. Run, Run, Rudolph, we're coming for you, we'll hit you in the head and grind you into stew.....Olivia, I can't read this!", Liam spat, closing the book in frustration before tossing it to the floor.

Before Olivia could acknowledge his refusal- loud, explosive pops went off in succession, startling all the guest. Glass shattered and screams broke out as chaos ensued; the noise continued and smoke trails began ruminating throughout the entire room. Guest fell to the floor, shielding their heads and trying to find anything they could to take cover and provide them with some protection. Liam grabbed Riley and pulled her to the ground, hovering over her with his body, fearing someone was shooting at them. Bastien drew his weapon, running swiftly to the King and Queens side, his eyes dancing intently around the room to find where the danger was coming from. He honed in on the origins of the smoke trail and cautiously eased towards it, his eyes narrowing in on the young prince covering his ears with an impish grin.

Bastien lowered his weapon, knowing exactly who was responsible; not even surprised Nikolas was the culprit of all the mayhem. Sitting on the floor next to the child, a glass candy dish filled with firecrackers and a fizzled out candle . The head guard hovered over him as the last of the small explosives died down, two little beady eyes shot up to meet his disappointed ones.

"Prince Nikolas", Bastien remarked gruffly as he lifted the young man to his feet by the back of his shirt collar.

Liam still had Riley's head nestled in his arms, when he caught a glimpse of Bastien and Nikolas approaching him from the corner of his eyes. His breath hitched in relief as the sheer terror of the moment dissolved and he could see that his only child was safe. He jumped up and bolted to meet them, lifting Nikolas into his arms, snuggling him in a tight embrace. "Oh, my boy...you're okay". Riley was quick to join them, pulling her son to her, after fearing the worst possible tragedy had taken him from her.

Bastien hated to break the reunion taking place before him, however, it was imperitive to assure the King, there were no serious threats to the Crown, nor, the people. He cleared his throat, pulling them away from their thoughts,"Your Majesties".

Liam and Riley listened to Bastien thoughtfully as he detailed to them what he discovered and how the small explosives had been perpetrated by child in their arms.

"Beat.his.ass, Liam", Drake scowled as he stumbled out from behind the curtains.

Nikolas cackled in response.

Riley lowered Nikolas to the wooden floor, however, before she could berate him, it was like a bomb going off, Liam had had enough. He was through with the pranks, the complete disregard for other people's feelings and safety, for ruining what had been traditionally, a fun Christmas gathering with their friends, and Nikolas' lack of respect for him as a father.

Liam gripped one of his son's shoulders, his voice raised, "You think this is funny? I've never been more disappointed in you than I am right now. You could have been hurt, you could have hurt someone else...".

Nikolas continued to laugh and mock his father.

"Nikolas! You will clean this mess up, apologize to Olivia and her guest, and you will not get the new playstation your mother and I purchased for you."

Nik's face crinkled in anger as he shrugged away from Liam, "I don't have to listen you, I don't care what you say, and I hate you forever!". He stomped out of the room and ran up the grand staircase in a flurry.

The room went completely silent, no one moved, all eyes focused in on Liam and Riley, both with dejected faces, both feigning decorum.

Riley moved forward to go after him. Liam tugged her back, and through barely a cracked whisper, "My love, let me speak to him". She nodded and he kissed her temple before making his way to the stairs.

Liam turned the knob that led to Nik's guest room and peaked inside. His son was hunched down on the bed, his irate face covered by two small hands, mumbling inaudible words through his anger. He stepped inside, closed the door, and made his way to the edge of Nik's bed, slumping down beside him. A flood of emotions overcame him as he thought about the hurtful words his son yelled at him, how he was missing another Christmas without his beloved mother, how he felt like a failure as a father. Unable to hold it together, nor, stifle the tears any longer, he began to sob.

Nik's ears perked up at the sound of his father's whimpering. Even at five years old, he knew it was his words and behavior that caused great pain to his daddy; a vast amount of guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. He sat up slowly, a veil of compassion washing over him as he placed a tiny hand on his fathers cheek and wiped a stream of tears away. "I'm so sorry, daddy", he wailed and fell into Liam's forgiving arms.

"Shh, I know... it's okay".

"I didn't mean it, daddy, I promise".

Father and son comforted one another in a way only the two of them could. As the tears dried, Liam shared stories of several of Leo's Christmas antics as a child, considering Nikolas admired his uncle's hijinx so much. They laughed and talked for nearly an hour, time seemingly passing without a thought.

They made their way back downstairs to rejoin the festivities, climbing over Drake who passed out on the bottom step, cradling his Johnny Walker in one arm and a turkey leg in the other.

Nikolas ran to his aunt Olivia and began his apologies and offers to help staff clean up.

Riley sauntered over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist, with an impressed look.

"Is everything okay now?", she asked, delighted by the wide grin on his face.

Liam watched his son as he helped Olivia's servants, Ingrid and Gustav, pick up empty plates and liquor bottles from the tables. His son was gleeful, happy and he knew that Nik loved him so much. His eyes roamed to his beautiful wife and thoughts of the family she had given him. "Everything is perfect, my love, Merry Christmas".

CHRISTMAS MORNING

Drake struggles to open his heavy eye lids and there is an intense throbbing ache behind them. The bottle he held as he slept on the bottom step had now rolled several feet away and the turkey leg was no where to be found. He squints tightly, wincing at the flashing lights that surround him. Just as his blurred vision becomes clearer, he is startled to find, Olivia, Liam, Riley, and Maxwell staring at him with big, glossy eyes. Each one of them wearing wide grins, except Maxwell, who was chowing down on a turkey leg.

"What's...what's going on with you guys?", he managed to utter with a dry tongue and chapped lips.

Olivia cackled, "Walker, it appears your sugarplums are showing".

Riley broke out into a fit of laughter, "Yeah Drake, is that a candy cane or are you just happy to see us?".

"What the fuck are you talking about?".

As much as Liam tried not to make the situation worse, he couldn't help himself, "You really should put away those chestnuts Drake, before you roast them on an open fire".

"That's a good one Liam", Maxwell laughed, "how about this one... Drake your pants are gone and we can see dick".

"Dammit, Maxwell!", Olivia scolded, "I had a good one about the North Pole".

Drake hands shot to his groin to cover his indecency as he bolted clumsily to his feet, still feeling the effects of the previous evening.

"Uncle Drake?", Nikolas asked groggily from the top of the stairs as he looked below, unsure of what was happening.

"Little Shit did this, didn't you...where's my pants Nikolas?"

"I swear Uncle Drake, I didn't!", Nik replied defensively and with sincerity, he really had nothing to do with this. His eyes shot to his father, almost pleading for him to believe his innocence.

Liam winked at his son before putting his forefinger over his shushed lips.

[harrymayakovskyblogs]

You are my only Star in the Sky / Ste moja jediná Hviezda na Oblohe A Short Poem written by myself, Created in Slovakia, Winter 2019

You are the final frontier for a really romantic Rosenkavalier,

At night I am Dostoevsky's The Possessed, like a dolphin diver,

Lying restlessly in bed I reach out for the stars, desperately for your hand,

I pray to the almighty for my dreams to come true, but no matter what I do,

They sadly will never come true, like Yuri Gagarin reaching for the moon,

Only to come back tragically, crashing back to Earth, crushed by her gravity,

I wish to be like him, making  mission impossible reality, like my dreams,  

I burn, burn, baby I burn, for you, through your inhospitable atmosphere,

Is this the fate of all true heroes? To face the final frontier and return to,

You who I love, mother earth, in a flaming scrap of metal, dying horribly,

Inside a tin can, but yes I’m the man, for you only, together we

Are love is hate because are lives and backgrounds are so juxtaposed, 

The laws of magnetism naturally attract us, as the earth attracts the moon,

But alas I am repelled, far away to Europe, for you reject my infinite love,

Like Gagarin, I fear nothing, for you’re my only star, making everything worth it,

You know I struggle hard for your love, I play the fool, for your entertainment,

Although I know that are love isn’t mutual, I’m no fool, well I was until I met you,

Then I became more than just a fool, a wise fool full of emotions and aspirations,

The truth, is while you were working hard in MacyD’s, flipping burgers, burning Hearts, there is only empty space...

A dark void beating within your sexy body, which makes me so hungry, like 

Nikola Tesla lighting the Chicago World’s Fair, you enlighten my life, giving me 

Purpose, making me feel like being the Tisar of the Austro-Hungarian Empire,

Your long, lush, luxurious black hair gives you the appearance of Mila Jovovich,

My favorite actress, although you are much prettier, I love you more everyday,

The more I think of you, the more I am wrapped around your Tesla Coil, or your

Curse, yes I am cursed by a girl who claims to be a witch, your spells are real,

Man cannot escape them, even while in Slovakia, so far away, I felt your magic,

I couldn’t finish writing my Geography homework, the last line cursed me, oh my 

Poor hands, trembled with fear at your dark magic, 'Si Prekliaty’, said my friends,

Knowing I was cursed, I wasn’t surprised, however the extent of your powers 

Amazed and Horrified me, to the grave, I am yours and yours alone, my only

Destiny, ours entwined, around your fingers, Tesla Coils collide in mutual hate,

Mutual lovers, morning each other, missing one another, separated by the stars,

Born to different worlds, cultures, and people, alas my race is your race, yet I am

Alien, something new, a hybrid Terminator, ‘I’ll be back, my lover’, said I forever,

Foolishly, my heart beats towards yours, hot chocolate I would buy every time,

No regrets, that’s the Gatsby philosophy, you make me happy, by being happy,

To infinity and beyond! No? I explore further, nonetheless, like a Cosmonaut,

Deep into emptiness, but I go around your orbit too, peeping at your Dark side,

Like Michael Collins, I observe the secrets of our Solar System, trying harder...

Becoming  He-Man, Master of the Universe, so that I can match yours and bend,

Time backwards, as was the dream of James Gatz, so that I can love you again,

I promise that, Tomorrow I’ll cycle to class faster, Stretch out my arm further,

Grasping for your green light, emanating from every inch of your being, my star,  

Which everyday eludes me, you make my mind cry ceaselessly, for without your 

Love, I’m a circuit incomplete, feeding my energy into nothing, your heart is my 

Generator, Yes I might be a Terminator, but I believe in something, I see it in you,

Love, my CPU tells me its illogical, that I should agree with you, however your 

Motherboard tells my sensory scanners, which feed back via my RAM, my star

Symbol, that you are worth the Struggle; Intellectually, Emotionally & Physically,

Give me an answer, so my circuit can be complete, or a sign in the sky,

So that when I’m in bed, falling asleep, I can gaze at the stars & see you again...

Terra, why are you so terrible to me, your lover and admirer; is my soul forever taken, forever lost, stretching for the dark void of your empty heart?

By your admirer, and wanna be lover, yours always; Harry Mayakovsky. 

[therealcalicali]

“IVAR, I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.” CHAPTER 7

IMAGINE: TELLING YOUR HUSBAND IVAR, THAT YOU HAVE BEEN SLEEPING WITH ANOTHER MAN, AND IT’S DEEPER THAN JUST SEX.

This story is dedicated to @tephi101 for inspiring me to think beyond the one-off Imagine. Thanks doll.

CATCH UP BELOW:

Read Part 1 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 1

Read Part 2 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 2

Read Part 3 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 3

Read Part 4 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 4

Read Part 5 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 5

Read Part 6 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 6

Read Part 8 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 8

Read Part 9 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.” Part 9

Read the Finale Chapter 1 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.”

Read the Finale Chapter 2 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.”

Read the Finale Chapter 3 here: “Ivar, I have something to tell you.”

PART 7 WARNINGS:  Threats, Angst, Intrigue, Character Funeral.

Word Count : 10,264

____________________________

You could hear your own erratic heartbeat as you entered the now silent Great Hall. Only a few minutes earlier, it had been full of important men, all wanting a piece of your husband. Now, as it sat silent, only a few guards remained at the doors with a handful lining the walls. They were not Ivar's men, which was quite usual. From the colors they bore on their armor, they were Bjorn's.

"Halt there! No one is to speak to the Prince until his brothers return with orders." A deep voiced boomed.

The soldier who spoke the harsh words quickly stepped forward and blocked your path.

"Why is he not allowed visitors?"

"It is per the order of the Ragnarssons. If you wish to speak with him, you must wait until one of them returns."

"But I am his wife. Surely they would not care if I sit with him for a while."

As you were speaking, a depressed Ivar finally raised his head. He had been lost in a world of his own ever since Sigurd collapsed to the ground. Everything else became a blur afterward. Ivar had heard the yelling and gasps, he even felt himself being grabbed, nevertheless, he couldn't remember how he arrived in the Great Hall. All he knew was that no one would ever forgive him. He had killed his own flesh and blood. His brother.

Sigurd may have been his greatest detractor but he didn't deserve to die for it. Even Ivar knew that. Your husband was grieved and the signs of it were upon his face. His blue eye were not as bright as they typically were and were tinged with redness. When Ivar spotted you, his heart eased a great deal. Just seeing your face comforted him.

"Y/N." Ivar called out. "Do not believe them. I did not mean to do it!"

Your eyes met his and for the first time, you actually felt pity for your husband. He looked broken and so very alone. Giving him an encouraging nod, you asked the guard again if it would be possible to enter. But again, the hard-headed man refused to let you pass.

"I understand that you are doing as instructed. However, I only want to-----"

"What is the issue here?" A stern Hvisterk interrupted your words as he entered the doorway.

You turned to come face-to-face with the man you had not seen in nearly four months thanks to Ivar's decree. Needless to say, you were happy to see him for it had been long. To your confusion however, Hvitserk barely looked you in the eye. With his hands clasped in front of him, he asked why you were trying to bypass their orders. Taken aback by his harsh tone, you stated that you only wanted to hear what had occurred from Ivar's own lips.

"Why? Do you think we placed him under custody for no reason?"

"Of course not. It is……..well, I do not know all the details. I was only informed that Sigurd----"

"That Sigurd was murdered! Our brother lays dead because Ivar cannot control his temper! He never has nor does he care to!" A livid Hvitserk spat as Ivar looked down.

You weren't sure how to reply to Hvitserk's words. Ivar was definitely all that he had said. It was the very reason the two of you couldn't ever see eye-to-eye. Ivar was just an uncontrollable person, full of rage. Where or how someone could accumulate such an overwhelming amount of bitterness, you were unsure. All you knew was that he had killed Sigurd, the Ragnarsson who stood up for you the most. It was difficult to grasp that he was truly gone.

"Hvitserk, I just wanted to speak with him. But if that is not possible now, I shall wait for Bjorn."

"No! I can make that happen." A still aloof Hvitserk said, taking a step closer. "If you insist on speaking to Ivar, I can give the command. However, please allow me speak to you first."

Ivar observed from where he sat, his heart breaking from within. Your husband was many things, but stupid was not one of them. It was very apparent to him that Hvitserk wanted you for himself. And who could blame him? You were beautiful inside and out. You were the type to never raise your voice at Thralls and treated the people of Kattegat kindly, despite being the wife of a Prince. Indeed, you were a good match for any man.

"Thank you, Hvitty. That would be fine." You replied as you took hold of your skirts.

Nodding his head in satisfaction, Hvitserk asked you to walk with him. A helpless Ivar could only watch as you departed the Great Hall with his elder brother. He clasped his leather-bound hands together to control his anxiety. Ivar knew everyone must be against him. Even now, the guards that stood against the walls eyed him with contempt. 

All he wanted now was someone to assure him that things would be alright. If he was allowed to speak with you, Ivar knew he would not feel so anxious. After all, it would give him some hope. However, he was now very alone and unsure about how you felt.

______________________

"And that's when he threw the axe. I swear Y/N, it all happened so quickly that there was no time to react." Hvitserk explained as he stared over the estate. The two of you were stood in the courtyard as he tried his best to tell you his side of the tale. "I just wish that…….I…..do not even know what to say."

You swallowed hard. It was shocking to hear what had occurred between Ivar and Sigurd. As usual, the two of them had been going at one another. Apparently, your husband felt so affronted by his brother that he felt compelled to use deadly force. It was all so tragic. Not just for Sigurd, but for all the Ragnarssons. Why should the sons of Ragnar be at one another's throats on such a regular basis?

"I am so sorry, Hvitserk."

"Why are you apologizing for something you did not do?" He replied with frustration. "It is Ivar who should feel guilt. But I am certain that he does not feel anything. He never does."

It was quite obvious that there weren't any words that could comfort Hvitserk in that moment. He looked both distraught and irate at once. He was an elder brother thus, a protector. It had never occurred to him that any of his younger siblings would die so soon. Especially at the hands of another brother.

"So, is it possible for me to help in preparing Sigurd?" You asked, thinking it was the only thing of value you could offer at the time.

Hvitserk looked at you and nodded before gazing out over the distance.

"Now I know how you felt the day he killed Herry." He said, causing your stomach to twist into knots. You may have finished mourning your departed lover but the pain was still there. Raw as ever. "It may have been by your hand but Ivar was the killer all the same. My little brother is a wicked person with a heart of stone."

You could only look at the blades of the lush grass, unsure of how to react to Hvitserk's assertion. Taking a seat on the bench, you pondered the day's events. It was true! Ivar was such an unpredictable person. Most people said he was practically a force of nature when enraged. But when you had entered the Great Hall, that version was not present. What you saw of your husband's countenance was unfamiliar. He appeared……..broken.

Without glancing in your direction, Hvitserk surprisingly asked you how you had been since he last saw you.

"I have been well. Thank you."

"Does he still abuse you?"

"No." You replied. "Ivar has been well-behaved. I mean…..you know….." You said as you tried to back-peddle. "Things have been slightly better and he has not struck me for some time."

It was too bold to state that your husband had been behaving normally now that he had murdered Sigurd. Why he felt the need to react so severely, was still a mystery. But at least Hvitserk was willing to allow you to speak with him.

"I will find out from Ubbe what time you can see Ivar. Until then, if you really want to help in preparing Sigurd for…………" He paused almost unable to speak the word. "his funeral, that would be helpful."

You nodded as you got to your feet. Clasping your hands in front of you, you glanced around. It had been a while since you and Hvitserk had seen one another but it was not a happy reunion. Though you wanted to say you were happy to see him, it wouldn't have been wise. After all, his little brother lay dead and his other brother was being held for the murder.

"I shall find out from Adelaide which room they have laid Sigurd." You finally managed to say, breaking the silence.

Hvitserk looked over his shoulder at you before staring back into the distance.

"Thank you, Y/N."

______________________

Lay still, lay silent. Sweet Prince

There is no more to worry thee

Death has enveloped thine light

Travel to your eternal rest

Sweet Prince. Lay still, lay silent

Kind and sweet Sigurd was cold to the touch, but appeared as if was merely sleeping. Even his blonde curls felt the same under your fingers as you stroked them. However, he was indeed gone. Whilst you helped Percival the Healer and his assistant, Nikolas, in preparing your brother-in-laws body, you felt profound sadness. But though you wanted to cry, the tears could not come. Perhaps the shock of hearing about Sigurd's demise had shaken you to your core. Simply put, you were just numb. Even as you placed a cuff upon his wrist, Nikolas had to whisper many times about your mind wandering.

"Forgive me. I do not know what is wrong with me."

"It is alright, Princess. You have just suffered a great loss." The young Nikolas replied as he placed silver bracelets upon Sigurd's wrist. "Perhaps it would be best if you went and got some rest. Leave this to us. Besides, the funeral is in the morning and you look quite drained."

With a weak smile, you patted him on the shoulder. You then went to the copper bowl to wash your hands with the lye soap. After thanking Percival and Nikolas for their diligence, you departed the room. The Healer's assistant was right in his assessment of your condition. You felt weak and tired even though you had slept well the night prior. All you wanted was fresh air and time to think. What you wanted to think about, you weren't quite sure. However, you just knew that you had to clear your mind.

__________________________

As you placed your hand upon the wooden pillar, leaning against it, your other hand went to your stomach. You weren't nauseated but you felt sick. Sick to your very core. Sigurd's pale face now haunted your mind. Desiring fresh air badly, you slowly made it to the atrium before overwhelming dread took hold.

"Princess Y/N?" You heard a voice say. "Are you alright?"

When you glanced, it was none other than Prince Sven approaching with a concerned look upon his face. Behind him were six of his Royal guards. As soon as he got to your side, the Prince gently took hold of you and guided you to a bench. Your hand was still on your stomach, almost as if it was the only way to keep yourself calm.

"Please, take a seat."

"Thank you Sven. I do not know what came over me just now. I just felt……………weak."

"As is expected." He said as he clasped his hands in front of him. "On behalf of my father, the King, you have our deepest condolences. Sigurd was a good man. I considered him the most prudent of all his brothers."

"Thank you very much. I just………I do not know whether I should be weeping or pulling my hair out. It is like a nightmare."

Sven felt very sorry for you. He too knew the pain of losing a loved one. After all, his elder brother, Tormund, had also been killed by Ivar. Though it was during a battle; where things like that were expected; it was still painful.

"Perhaps it is best that you go and lay down. At times like this, it is good to rest the mind."

"That is what I had intended." You said as you wrung your hands, not knowing what else to do with them. "I just became distracted."

"Come, my men will escort you in case you have another spell."

"I would appreciate that. Thank you."

You agreed with a nod of the head and stood slowly to your feet. Sven watched you cautiously, making certain that you didn't appear like you were about to faint. When you were steady on your feet, he ordered three of his guards to accompany you. Thanking the kind Prince once last time, you departed.

As he watched you go with his guards, Sven wondered how things were going to turn out. Everyone had gathered for celebrations and meetings. Now, however, it had turned into something totally different. The mood was already growing tense with many allies divided on how to deal with Ivar.

Not only that, but some of the leaders who had been following the youngest Ragnarsson were now switching allegiances to Bjorn. Undeniably, Sigurd's murder had triggered something. A chain of events that no one was prepared for. Especially Ivar, who had set it all into motion with his lack of self-control.

____________________

As you lay on the bed, you couldn’t sleep though you wanted to desperately. Instead, you lay on your side with your eyes open, staring blankly at the wall. You kept replaying your last conversation with Sigurd and how he had been laughing while telling you of his experiences in battle. It was upsetting. Less than twenty four hours ago, he had been so full of life. And now….it was all over. His hopes, his dreams, his laugh, all of it, gone in one act of anger.

"Why, Ivar?" You pondered as you stared at the wall.

You wondered why destruction always seemed close by when Ivar was near. It was almost as if he was a bad omen, doomed to bring pain no matter what. As you lay lost in your own thoughts, Adelaide the Head Domestic entered and cleared her throat.

"What is it?" You nearly snapped.

She knew full well you asked not be disturbed unless it had to do with your daughter. But by now, it wasn't a surprise that she didn't always follow your instructions. Adelaide just did not like you very much. Since the old woman viewed herself as Ivar's second mother, she found it difficult to trust anyone around him. And that included you.

"Your mother is in the hallway. She has heard about what happened and wants to be of help."

You rolled your eyes before you sat up in the bed. With a wave of the hand, you instructed Adelaide to let her in. Composing yourself, you watched as your mother entered, well dressed as always but wearing a worried expression. She instantly sat next to you, much to your annoyance.

"I am sorry that it took me a while to come. Once the messenger arrived, I had to find someone to watch Luke." Your mother announced. Sharing minor details you didn't care about at that particular moment. "Lizzy is working in town now in case you have not heard. At a dressmakers."

"Does that mean Jonah has taken her back?

"No, he has not. He only allowed me to begin caring for Luke again because I begged. That man's heart has is still hardened toward your sister. And Ivar has yet to do anything to help make things better."

"Mother! This is not the time to discuss Elizabeth's marital issues!" You said with a raised tone. "Ivar is being held and Sigurd lays in state in the Sitting Parlor."

"What happened exactly?"

You stood from the bed, shrugging your shoulders. As you glanced out of one of the massive windows, you informed her that you did not know. And that you had yet to speak to Ivar.

"Why? Will his brothers not allow it?"

"They will. Hvitserk already stated that he would inform me when I am able."

Your mother exhaled deeply as she made the sign of the cross. Apparently, she was more anxious than you assumed she would've been. After all, your mother only tolerated Ivar. She had made it no secret that she viewed him as nothing more than a soulless Heathen.

"I will say a prayer that things turn out well. The last thing we need is Ivar being displaced or worse."

"Mother. I am surprised at your concern."

"Why would I not be? If anything happens to Ivar, what shall become of all of us? Remember, all the lands and properties are his. If they choose to punish him that shall be our lot as well."

You wanted to roll your eyes again. Of course your mother was only thinking of herself. But there was truth in her selfish stance. Ivar was the sole provider for your family. He not only ensured that the businesses he placed your Mother and Jonah in thrived. But he maintained the lands and homes he purchased for them as well. Like it or not, Ivar was important to your families livelihood.

As you were about to respond to your mother's concerns, Torvi entered with Dahlia in her arms. Your daughter was awake and in quite the cranky mood as she fussed in her Aunt's arms. Still, being a mother herself, Torvi leisurely rocked her as she walked to you.

"Thank the Gods you are awake. So I am to assume you have been made aware." Your sister-in-law asked."

"Yes. I was taking a walk when the messenger found me."

"This is terrible! What is to become of the family, Y/N? If we do not pray earnestly, this could tear us all apart."

"Why?" You asked with a as you watched Torvi take a seat. "Have you some news?"

Her eyes went to your mother before they fell on you again. In that small gesture, you instantly understood that she could not speak freely.

"Mother, please go and have the servants give you food while I take care of things. I shall have them fetch you when I am free.

"Well…………..fine!" Your mother hesitantly agreed as she stood from your bed. "Your sister should be here by then, hopefully. I had a messenger go to inform her of events. Jonah as well."

The last person you wanted to have to deal with was Elizabeth. She was whiny and it had become worse ever since her husband had thrown her out. With a weak smile you bid your mother goodbye and promised to speak with her later. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, you went and took a seat beside Torvi.

Since Dahlia became fussy again, you took her into your arms and loosened the lacing on your dress-top. Carefully, you cradled your daughter and placed a nipple against her lips. After calming down enough to realize you were trying to give her milk, Dahlia finally latched on. Her dark blue eyes stared at you with a serenity that you envied. Holding her tiny fingers, you looked at Torvi who commented that she was surprised that the baby was hungry.

"The Wet-nurse fed her not that long ago." She added. "At any rate, Y/N, we must make certain to hold firm at the trial. If you want to avoid endless skirmishes and battles, you and I must be of one mind."

"What are you saying?"

"If we do not side with Ivar, he will hardly have any allies. As it stands, Ubbe and the rest are very angry. And when the Ragnarssons are angry, they make stupid decisions." Torvi emphatically stated as she leaned closer. "They may hate him now but no matter what, he is their blood. They can dislike him for eternity if they so choose. But Ivar must not lose at the trial or it will be trouble for us all. People are already in Ubbe's ear about becoming King. The others as well from what I have heard from my Spymaster."

"What?" You said as your heart nearly skipped a beat. "But they rule as a Council."

"That may be a thing of the past if all the vipers slithering about get their way. With Sigurd's death, ambitious men are making ambitious plays. After all, it is easier to attain the favor of a sole King than a Council of brothers."

___________________

"Ivar? How are they treating you?" Elizabeth asked as she placed a tray of food on the table.

Despite the fact that he had exposed her treachery to Jonah, your sister held no ill feelings toward Ivar. So much so, that she had even asked to serve him the meal the kitchens had prepared. As she began arranging the utensils and plates, she glanced at him again.

"Where is she?" Ivar asked without taking his eyes the floor.

"Y/N?"

"Yes."

"I am not sure. But I am certain she will be here shortly. I arrived not long ago before Ubbe finally said you were allowed visitors."

Ivar looked at her, eyes full of sadness and regret. He wondered if you were just avoiding him. After all, you were the only person he wanted to see so what was taking so long?  You were the one person who could make him feel that things would somehow get better. All Ivar hoped was that Hvitserk had not convinced you to avoid him. All his brothers were furious so he knew that they could easily poison your mind.

"I am not hungry." A very dejected Ivar said as he looked at the food. "Take it back."

"But you must eat something. Mother even personally made the wheat loaf you like."

"No. I will just take mead."

"Alright." Elizabeth relented as she took hold of the pitcher.

While she was filling up the horn, your mother and Jonah walked in.

"Brother, it is good to see that you are in good spirits." Your brother-in-law said to Ivar's surprise.

Jonah utterly ignored your sister however. He promptly took a seat beside Ivar and gave him a reassuring look. Your brother-in-law may have been upset but all of his anger was directed at Elizabeth. Of course he had been angry at them both for the first few days however, he realized Ivar had done nothing wrong. In fact, Ivar did him a huge favor when he exposed your sister's treacherous behavior.

"Have you heard anything?" Ivar asked Jonah.

"Nothing really. All we know is that……..well……the funeral is in the morning."

Ivar's eyes went to the floor again. It was hard to hear those words. It signified that he had indeed killed his brother and no amount of blocking it out would change that.

"Where is my wife?"

"She will be here shortly. We saw her speaking to Bjorn before we came."

Ivar's brow raised. Out of all his brothers, he felt that Bjorn would hurt his case the most. You had always respected him and Lagertha for treating you kindly when you were their Thrall. Even after your marriage, Bjorn was constantly pulling Ivar aside and warning him to treat you well. Now, he could not help but to think that his elder brother was speaking against him.

___________________

"I do not know what to say." You said as you looked at Bjorn and a few of the gathered Kings and Envoys.

"It is important that you understand that your words will hold great weight in the trial to come." Ubbe said, interrupting your thoughts. "What our brother has done is beyond what my mind can even comprehend. Sigurd now wanders forever.

"All thanks to your husband." Hvitserk added from beside Ubbe.

The two of you met eyes briefly before he looked away. You weren't sure why he seemed so upset with you. After all, your hands were tied when it came to Ivar and his decision to prohibit Hvitserk from the property. However, this was not the time to think of that. More pressing matters were at hand and you still didn't know where you stood.

With Bjorn's wife stating that he was preparing to leave the Armies and go off on his own, things were complicated enough. But now, it was obvious that Torvi was correct about the whispers of making Hvitserk or Ubbe, King. You could see it in the way they were both behaving.

 And in the way some of the other leaders in the War Room looked at you. True, there were many who allied with Ivar because they feared him but now, they felt his days were drawing to a close. Thus, they were scrambling to align themselves with whichever Ragnarsson they felt had the best claim.

"I think we have taken enough of the Princesses' time." Prince Sven suddenly announced from where he sat between Bjorn and Floki.

Poor Floki. The shipbuilder looked beside himself with worry as he ran his hand over his head. His facial features were pulled into a look of grief you had never seen from him before.

"Agreed." Bjorn said. "You are free to go. If you would like to see Ivar, he is able to receive visitors now."

You gave a polite nod of the head and thanked everyone for their time. As you held your skirts and departed the War Room, your heart was thumping within your own ears. This was serious. Whose side should you be on? Was it Hvitserk's or was it Ubbe? They were the only ones obviously were very interested in disbanding the Council and ruling as King. Or should you forgo them both and depart Kattegat with Bjorn and his wife Jodis?

They had lands already settled so Bjorn did not care to rule as King. At least with them, you could live a simple life. But what would become of Ivar? How would he be punished if you turned on him? After all, it was cold-blooded murderer. Perhaps, finally, God was giving you the help you had prayed for. And if you played your cards right, you could finally be out of Ivar's grasp.

____________________

"Please wait a moment, Princess Y/N." King Solmund said as he approached.

Not far behind him walked Prince Sven and six of their fearsome looking Royal guards. You had only left the War Room moments prior so you wondered what he wanted. Perhaps he forgot to mention something to you in the meeting. When they finally arrived where you stood, the King apologized for keeping you from your schedule.

"That is alright your Majesty. I was only going to check on my daughter." You said.

"I was wondering if perhaps I could speak to you privately."

"Of course. Should--------."

"Pardon the curt interruption but, not now. And not here." The King said, glancing around with a smile. "The walls have a way of carrying ones words to itchy ears."

You nodded in agreement almost embarrassed that you had thought of conversing in such a busy corridor. King Solmund stated that there was a musical and acting performance in town. He felt it was a great place to speak his mind without fear of being overheard.

"Alright. That sounds fine."

"We shall go together with a contingency of guards consisting of your men and ours. Does that sound fair?" King Solmund asked.

You agreed and glanced at Prince Sven who had said nothing the entire time. He just stood by his father with his hands clasped in front of him with a serious expression upon his face. When his father made his goodbyes and turned to leave, the Prince remained standing a moment. As soon as his father was out of earshot he glanced at you.

"Guard your thoughts well." Sven whispered before he began to follow his father.

You wanted to ask what he meant but as you watched him catch up to the others, you decided against calling out.

"Guard your thoughts well." You repeated to yourself.

Well, that was perhaps the best piece of advice you had heard thus far.

_________________

As soon as the sound of your footsteps echoed within the Great Hall, Ivar lifted his head. His eyes instantly went into deeper sorrow as you approached. To your shock you could see them become wet with tears. Jonah, who was sat by his side, greeted you as did your mother and sister. However, you could tell that Elizabeth only did so because it was compulsory.

"Y/N." Ivar barely managed to say. Almost as if he thought you would never appear.

He embraced you by the waist, burying his head in your skirts. You were utterly speechless at seeing him in such a state.

"Is it alright if I can have a moment alone with him?" You asked as you looked around at your family.

The first to stand was Jonah who agreed right away. Being ever perceptive, he knew it was important for the two of you to be alone. Motioning with his hand for Elizabeth and your mother to go ahead of him, he waited as they got to their feet. Ivar remained clinging to you until they had departed the Great Hall.

"Ivar, do you not wish for me to sit beside you?"

"Just………let me hold you a while longer." He replied in a barely audible tone.

Was Ivar the Boneless, showing human emotion and regret? It was almost too good to be true. When you placed your hand on his braided hair, he grabbed hold of your wrist and brought your palm to his cheek. Holding it in place, he asked if you hated him.

"What……..why would you think-----"

"Everyone hates me."

You weren't sure how to respond. If you were honest, you had spent many nights wishing to see Ivar in such a state. There was nothing you had prayed for more than for him to feel anguish. Just as he had made you feel when he forced you to take Herry's life. But now, you felt strange. The glee you thought you would get from seeing Ivar devastated wasn't there. Instead, you were extremely confused.

As you stroked his cheek, it seemed to calm his emotions greatly. When he finally let go of you, so that you could sit, he moved as close to you as possible. Ivar then took both your hands in his own, his eyes still wet with tears.

"I did not mean to kill him, Y/N." He pleaded with you straightaway. "You must believe me. I know the others do not, but I am being honest."

"Ivar, please just tell me what happened."

"First tell me that you do not hate me."

"Why should I? I cannot judge anything before I have even heard your side."

Ivar just stared into your eyes, looking helpless. You reassured him that though you had heard the story from everyone else, you wanted to hear it from his lips. It was the only way for you to comprehend the entire matter since you had not been present. As he began to tell you the tale of what occurred during the meeting, Ivar became emotional again.

"And so, he just kept interrupting when we got to the topic of the raids. At first, I gave him the floor, despite it not being his turn. But then, Sigurd began addressing me personally." Ivar said as he kept his eyes on yours. "I tried to bite my tongue but it was difficult. So I challenged what he was saying. He claimed that I was going to lead the Armies to disaster. Especially with my West Francia proposal."

"You are planning on attacking Francia?" You asked as if Torvi hadn't already told you.

"Yes. Some of the Kings and Lords like my plans. However, Sigurd felt that all my strategies were futile. He then said our father would never had wanted me to lead the Armies, and that Bjorn or Ubbe were a better choice. But that is not what angered me."

You cautiously looked at your husband as he held your hand tighter.

"He said that………..I was only doing this because of my shortcomings. That I was a cripple who was trying to make up for all I lacked. That no one would even listen to me had I not been a Ragnarsson. He……………….." Ivar's voiced trailed of and he went silent.

Letting go of your hands he laid his head against your shoulder and held on to you as tightly as possible. It was quite apparent that he was reliving whatever had led to him throwing his axe at Sigurd. Not wanting to push him any further, you caressed Ivar's back and remained silent. There was nothing to be gained from making him more upset than he already was. Besides, the funeral was in the morning and that would be stressful enough.

"Why did you not bring the baby?" Ivar asked with his head still on your shoulder.

"She is sleeping. Would you like me to bring her once she is awake?"

Ivar nodded his head. However, he stated that he wasn't sure if his brothers would allow you to visit him again that day.

"I will ask permission to bring Dahlia to see you." You said encouragingly. "I am certain they will not take issue with it."

You didn't know if what you said was accurate or not. After all, the Ragnarssons were angrier than you had ever seen them. Nothing was guaranteed about their actions now. Especially when it came to Ivar.

______________________

During the evening meal, you felt as if you were being watched by everyone. Whether for good or bad, everyone stole glances in your direction as you all sat around the massive oak table. As for your brothers-in-law, they all appeared to be in various stages of grief. Bjorn, naturally, appeared the most somber. Hvisterk, on the other hand, was still brooding. It was strange to see him without a pleasant expression or smile upon his face.

As the Thrall's walked around placing the first course in front of everyone, one of the King's stated that he wanted to toast to Sigurd. It was awkward but everyone quickly raised their horns.

"To Sigurd Snake in the Eye! A great warrior, brother and loyal friend to those privileged to know him. May the Gods see fit to give him the peace he deserves."

Your heart sank as the cheers rose around the table. The eyes were on you again, obviously judging you by association. Not that anyone blamed you for what your husband had done. But they all wondered what you were going to do about it.

"So, how are you faring knowing what your husband has done?" One Chief asked before swilling his mead.

"Has he even acted apologetic?" Another King asked immediately after.

As you fidgeted with your napkin, you looked the men, unsure why they would ask such unpleasant questions. You felt terrible enough without the hurtful line of questioning.

Just as you were about to respond, your eyes caught those of Prince Sven who gave you a peculiar look. It conveyed so much. It was as if he was telling you to take care with your words. Which of course was good advice since you were becoming quite livid. Ivar may have killed Sigurd but you certainly didn't.

"I have been allowed to speak to Ivar and he seems contrite in my eyes. But as it stands, I cannot speak for my husband. After all, he is own man. Let us focus on the funeral for my dear brother Sigurd and then, we shall see what occurs at the trial."

The scoffs arose quicker than you expected. It was apparent that Torvi had been very truthful about the political climate. Even she shifted in her seat as the grumbling became ever louder. Finally, Bjorn cleared his throat and lifted his horn and made another toast.

"To everyone remembering my little brother for what he was. And to paying him proper respect tomorrow." The eldest Ragnarsson said.

Luckily, Bjorn's words seemed to calm things. Your eyes caught those of Hvitserk as you began to drink the soup that had now grown cold. Quickly, you looked down at your bowl. You weren't sure where you stood with him at the moment and were in no mood to guess. Not that you were upset by Hvitserk's behavior. After all, he had just lost a brother. But there was something in the way he beheld you now. Something had changed but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.  

________________

After the evening meal, you spent time speaking with various dignitaries who wanted your ear. Most wanted to know how you would testify at Ivar's trial. One even mentioned that he was aware that your husband had been cruel to you for some time. He hinted, not very subtly, that it could be your moment of retaliation. Luckily, Bjorn saved you from any further discussions by asking you to join him for a walk.

As the two of you stood in the open corridor, the warm night air passed over, filling you with calm. Glancing at your brother-in-law, you thanked him for everything he had done to keep things peaceful. Seemingly tired, Bjorn sat down and looked at you.

"I know it cannot be easy. Ubbe and Hvitserk are very angry right now." You stated as you looked off into the distance. "You must be as well, yet, you have managed to hold things together. And for that, I thank you."

"No need. Our family has suffered a great tragedy. However, I cannot allow emotions to get the best of everyone."

"That is wise."

After sighing, Bjorn informed you that he was going back to the Great Hall. Getting to his feet, he ran his hand over his face and exhaled deeply.

"I must keep our guests occupied."

"That is fine. But might I ask a favor of you?"

With a nod of his head, the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson looked down at you with interest. He still wore his typical stoic expression but there was no denying he was stressed.

"I know you had Ivar in the Great Hall initially but where have you moved him? I would like permission to take Dahlia for a short visit."

"He has been moved to one of the holding cells in the East Wing."

It was apparent that Bjorn found it hard to admit he was holding his own brother like a common prisoner. However, he had to adhere to protocol. Ivar had committed Fratricide. Vikings may have been seafaring Heathens but they had strict beliefs. Prince or not, Ivar had to stand in front of his peers to be judged for his actions.

"In the cells?" You repeated, almost surprised yourself.

Ivar being imprisoned in his very own lockup was almost poetic. They were the very same cells he had held Herry in prior to his sacrifice.

"So am I allowed to see him?"

"I am sorry but no. Not yet at least." Bjorn replied. "He needs to think about what he has done. If we act as if everything is normal, Ivar will not learn anything."

___________________

At the small theater, you took a seat beside King Solmund. Prince Sven sat beside his father along with two Royal Advisors. As for your contingency of six guards and those of King Solmund, they stood nearby eyeing the audience. Leaning closer, the King thanked you for taking time to hear what he had to say.

"Do you know how you will testify?" He asked.

"I am going to speak truthfully."

"Truthfully?" King Solmund repeated with an impressed nod of the head. "That is always the best place to start. But be aware. There are many who seek to bring your husband down once and for all. And he has finally given them the opportunity. Even those loyal to him are scrambling like rats on a sinking ship.'

You knew it was true. Many of the men who questioned you during the evening meal were Ivar's allies.

"I know that you are aware of the battles fought between Ivar and myself." The King continued as his eyes filled with regret. "Unfortunately, he killed my second born Tormund during the last skirmish."

It was apparent that he had not gotten over the loss. But who could blame him. It was said that no parent ever wanted to see their children go before them. Being a mother now, you could understand his pain. Even though it took time for you to bond with your daughter due to your mother's treachery, you now loved her. Dahlia had become the best part of your days.

"I know you may think that I am enjoying what is unfolding, but I do not. If I wanted to see your husband get his comeuppance, it would not be in this way. Especially since it would put many of our treaties in jeopardy." King Solmund confessed. "I am uncertain of how the others will behave should Ivar be ousted. For that reason, I ask that you take care when speaking at the trial. It is not only Ivar's future that hangs in the balance."

With that, the handsome King patted the back of your hand and relaxed into his chair. People around you were still conversing since the performance had not yet started. As you sat, astounded by what King Solmund had said, you became more confused. Truthfully, you expected him to be like some of the others, urging you to turn on Ivar. However, it seemed he was more concerned with the settlements he had been allowed to keep than with vengeance.

Your eyes fell on Prince Sven who had been totally silent since the evening meal. 

Even on the way over, he had chosen to ride upon horseback instead of inside the covered wagon with you and his father. He said it was because he wanted to help guard but you weren't convinced. The young Prince just seemed to have allot on his mind.

____________________

"There he is! The wicked cripple" A man's voice echoed in your ear as you walked beside Ivar.

It was the following morning and everyone had awakened early to see Sigurd off to the afterlife. The sad part was, he was not going to Valhalla from what you understood of their beliefs. Word had spread quickly about the public murder and people were not happy. Not happy in the least. Of all of Ragnar's sons, Ivar already had quite a bad reputation. You had no idea he had even killed a playmate as a child until you heard it being gossiped about. However, by murdering his own brother, Ivar had turned many against him. 

They already viewed his affliction as a sign that he should have been left to die as an infant. But since Ragnar had defied the tradition and let him live, many now said he was cursed. A cripple doomed to destroy everything around him.

The murmuring wasn't only directed at Ivar. You heard female voices asking why you were walking with him. Why were you standing by such a man? But you couldn't just distance yourself from him in public. Doing so would only lead to more rumors and that was something the Ragnarssons wanted to curb. If Ivar was to be judged, it was going to be by his peers, not the subjects of Kattegat.

You felt Ivar's hand grip your arm firmly as the two of you made it to the boat Sigurd's body lay in. Leaning upon his crutch, your husband's eyes widened at the sight of his brother. All the denial in Ivar's mind and heart dissipated. There before him was the Snake in the Eye, lifeless and pale. Overcome by remorse, Ivar leaned into you.

"I cannot draw any closer, Y/N. I feel sick and my heart aches."

"I understand. But I am here with you." You whispered. "Please, we must get closer. You must sit at your designated place alongside your brothers."

"Do not leave me."

"I promise I will not be far. I will be standing right behind you should you need anything."

Ivar finally looked into your eyes, his own reddened and puffy from crying. It was the first time you had witnessed genuine remorse from him. He looked lost and held onto your arm as if you would vanish should he let go. When you finally made it to the boat-side, Ivar sat down on one of the stools.

Reassuring him again that you would be nearby, you took his crutch and caressed his cheek affectionately. You did so because the men who had already gathered were watching your every move.

Thus, you made certain to show solidarity. Whatever your plans, they were yours and yours alone. If you had learned anything from being around the Ragnarssons, you had learned to wear a public face. As you took your place beside Torvi and Bjorn's wife, Jodis, you laid Ivar's crutch down. Pulling your black cloak over your head, you stood in silence. Everyone was doing the same as they waited for Bjorn and the others to arrive.

Ivar sat stone faced. Though he knew you were behind him, he felt alone. All eyes that beheld him, did so with great contempt and he knew it. 

Everyone was against him, even his brothers. Only King Harald, Halfdan and Jonah had been steadfast friends. When he had been transferred to the cells, Ivar had hoped his brothers would see him. But none of them did so. Not even Hvitserk, whom at one time, had been his closest friend.

Ivar's wrung his leather-bound hands in an effort to keep calm. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he had not felt so distraught in a long while. The last time he had felt so overwhelmed was when he learned about the death of his mother. As you shifted upon your feet, you finally saw the Ragnarssons approaching. 

Leading Ubbe and Hvitserk toward the gathering was a stern looking Bjorn. His expression only broke when he and his brothers arrived beside the boat. Seeing their little brother truly shook them all.

Ivar looked down as Ubbe and Hvisterk shot him a severe glances. He just couldn't take the anger being directed at him from his siblings. And so, instead of saying anything to them, your husband chose to remain silent. He did not greet them nor glance in their directions. He instead stared at Sigurd with tears rolling down his face. It wasn't just the end of Sigurd's life, but the end of whatever his life was like before.

________________

The funeral had been difficult and left you mentally drained. Not only that, but you had quite the tense visit with Ivar in his cell. He had been sent back as soon as everything concluded and became more crestfallen. Fortunately, you had been given permission to take Dahlia along. Ivar spent most of your visit holding his daughter in silence.

Now back in your chamber, you wondered what you should do. So many people were courting your allegiance against Ivar. However, there were others like King Solmund and King Harald who wanted you to side with your husband.

"My heart aches." You said as you paced with Dahlia asleep in your arms. "I am in a terrible position. It is no secret that I have always been at odds with my husband. At times, even praying that my God would make him disappear. Now, everyone is intent on extracting their pound of flesh from Ivar. And I understand wholeheartedly. Not only did he murder his own brother. But he has given poor Sigurd a dishonorable death. Everything within me is saying I should side with his detractors. Rid myself of him once and for all." 

You stopped pacing and looked at your daughter's peaceful expression. Was she ever the spitting image of her father! So much so, that she even furrowed her brows in her sleep. Looking at Astrid, you sighed, desperate for advice. 

"Y/N, I know Ivar has not been easy to live with. We all know the things he has done." The solemn Queen said. "But hear me well. Harald says if you allow them to use you, his own wife, against him……it would seal his fate. They may banish Ivar. However it could be much worse, like execution. How do you think you would fare without his protection? Not just in Kattegat but anywhere. These men do not tell you the entire truth. The same people urging you to their side now, will kill you and Dahlia as soon as Ivar is out of the way." 

You nodded thoughtfully before looking out of the window. From where you stood, you spotted the Ragnarssons in the courtyard. It appeared that they had all gathered to finally visit Ivar in his cell.

"Thank you for your council. I must think of my daughter before anything else. If siding against Ivar at the trial will put her in peril, I shall not give them what they want." You affirmed as you caressed your daughter's dark locks. I know what to say when I am called to bear witness." 

___________________

The next three days were uneventful. You spent most of your time sewing, caring for your daughter and visiting Ivar. It appeared that being held as a prisoner in his own home didn't sit well with your husband. And the hints of the old Ivar began making their way to the surface. He lamented how he was being treated and ranted about Bjorn and the others being so judgmental. Though you tried, you could not get him to be reasonable.

Wanting to get your mind off the upcoming trial, you sent a Thrall to find out if Prince Sven was available for the afternoon. Fortunately, he had just returned from taking care of some contracts at the docks. As you waited for him in the garden, you wondered if you should truly side with Ivar as Astrid and others had advised. Your husband was showing signs of his old self much too quickly for your liking.

Going against him, though dangerous, could be your path to freedom. You wouldn't even need Hvitserk's help if you did things your own way. Still, you would only have to worry about long-term protection from not only Ivar's enemies but from Ivar himself should he not be executed.

There was no way he would let you flee with his daughter and not come after you with all his might. To go against him, you would require protection. Protection greater than what Hvisterk could offer.

"Princess Y/N, I am surprised that you called for me." Prince Sven said as he approached with his hands behind his back. Escorting him were four of his Royal Guards. It seemed that despite the Prince being a renowned fighter, his men still insisted on protecting him. "Are you certain you want company today?"

"I am certain." You replied giving him a polite smile. "I am tired of thinking too much and thought you may have diversion. Perhaps some tales from your homeland."

"I have better than that." Sven said with a crooked smirk, resembling a devious child. "I brought this along."

From behind his back, he produced the sword he had gifted you. You had almost forgotten all about the day near the shore when he had presented it. When the messenger had come with the news of Sigurd's death, you had thought of nothing since.

"I must thank you again for such a gift." You said, taking the sheathed sword from his hand. "It is simply a marvel to behold."

"And to wield." Sven said. "But you are not ready to use such a deadly blade. Not yet at least. We shall use practice swords."

"Practice swords? You mean to train me now?"

The Prince chuckled and asked if you had something better in mind. After all, it was a beautiful afternoon and you asked for distraction. Relenting, you allowed him to instruct one of his men to fetch the practice swords and shields.

"Do you not think you are wasting your time? After all, I have never held a weapon a day in my life. Besides, I am in a dress."

"And?" Sven asked as if you had said something absurd. "Do you know how many women I have seen wield weapons while wearing the same finery as yourself?"

"That is absurd. How do they move around with something so cumbersome on?"

Sven laughed at your question much to your dismay.

"Princess, do you suppose when someone attacks a lady, they allow them time to change into something more comfortable?" He asked as his laugh became deeper. "You either fight, or you die. It is as simple as that."

You glared at him for laughing at you, cutting him the meanest expression you could muster. However, he made sense.

"Are you angry with me?" Sven asked as his man approached with an armful of practice weaponry.

"No."

"That is odd. Your facial expression says otherwise."

"Will you just get on with it?" You replied, annoyed by his sarcasm.

It was bad enough that he made your assertions sound stupid. But his dry wit was making you feel stupider. Taking a wooden broadsword from the assortment, Sven handed it to you much to your dismay.

"What is this? Why can I not use a dulled iron sword instead?"

"Because."

You waited for him to add to his reply but the Prince was too busy selecting a wooden weapon for himself. Being a polite person, you waited for him to say something when ready, however, he didn't.

"Did you not hear me? I asked why I must use this." You said with slight irritation. "These are used by children mostly are they not?"

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

Prince Sven settled on a wooden long-sword. He then unhooked his belted and sheathed sword and handed it off to one of his guards.

"Will you please stop speaking in incomplete sentences?" You seethed. "I said are these not used by children?"

"And I gave you a reply. Yes and no."

"That does not make any sense."

"It is simple Princess. Yes, wooden swords are typically used by children. But today, it will be used by you as well. So no, it is not only for children."

You eyed him with frustration causing him to smirk once again. Prince Sven was not moved by your temperament apparently. Relenting, you listened attentively as he positioned your hand upon the hilt of the sword.

"Now, we shall start. And please do not forget to hold your skirts." He instructed in a playful manner. "I do not wish to be responsible for you breaking your neck."

"Will you get on with it?" You demanded, tired of his cynical comments.

Truth be told, you found him humorous, which was exactly what you needed at that moment. Nevertheless, you weren't going to let him know that you were entertained by his quips. Sven showed you how first make basic Swipes before going to Lunges, Fades and Pummels. You were delighted that you were finding it easier to pick up than anticipated. And why not? The Prince was a very good teacher.

He simplified his movements and explained them in great detail as he went along. In fact, his entire face lit up as he coached you. It was apparent that fighting was Sven's comfort zone.

_______________

Whilst you were busy training in the garden with the Prince, Ivar sat in his cell, looking out of the window. And he was just as angry as he had been when you had visited earlier. If not angrier.

"You have a visitor." One of the guards announced.

"Is it my wife?"

"No. It is your sister-in-law."

Ivar rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the goings on outside. As Elizabeth entered, he heard her footsteps approach but refused to pay her any mind.

"Ivar, how do you fare today?"

"I am as fine as a man accused of murder could be." Ivar replied dryly. "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you if you were in good spirits. And if you require------"

"It is a kind gesture but an unnecessary one. You, along with your mother, have shown support already. There is no need for this private visit."

Turning to glance at Elizabeth, he glared at her. No longer was he the broken man he had been a few days prior. The old Ivar had returned and plotting how to get out of the mess he was in.

"I understand. But that is not the only reason I came." A serious Elizabeth said as she took a seat beside him. "There is a pressing matter that you must know now, or never."

Glancing at her with a perplexed expression upon his face, Ivar asked her to spit it out. He was in no mood for Elizabeth's games.

"Well?" He added in aggravation.

"First, promise that you will truly listen." Elizabeth said. "You must allow me to say it all without cutting off my words."

Flicking his hand nonchalantly in her direction, Ivar signaled for her to speak. Keeping his attention fixated outside, he sat quietly as Elizabeth first started with how he had purchased the home for your mother.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ivar hissed. "Your mother has long thanked me for her home and land."

"It is important to lay the foundation before I can divulge the rest."

Still irritated, Ivar shrugged and turned his attention back to the window. Elizabeth continued speaking. She made certain to mention your family's expertise with herbs and how your mother had the shop on her property. Ivar said nothing. He simply wanted her to get on with it so he could dismiss her from his presence.

He thought your sister was a troublemaker and someone who didn't know when to desist. Ivar felt that he had made himself quite clear that he had no romantic inclinations toward her. Especially by exposing her to Jonah. However, it seemed Elizabeth did not care about her husband anymore.

"So, mother recently told me that she had banned Y/N from visiting or entering the shop. As you can imagine, I found it quite odd. But then, she explained why. Do you know why she did such a thing?"

"Of course I do not know!" Ivar snapped. "Is that not why you came here to run your mouth?"

"She banned my sister because she was stealing contraceptive herbs."

Ivar's head snapped in your sister's direction. He stared at her as if he had been shot through the heart with an arrow. Pleased that she finally had his undivided attention, Elizabeth nodded.

"It is true, Ivar. You may even ask mother. From the onset of your marriage, Y/N has been doing everything in her power to not carry your seed. She stole herbs for a long while until mother finally caught on and switched the herbal tincture purposely." Elizabeth added with satisfaction. "So you see, my sister is not what you think she is. She does not love you nor did she ever want to bare your children. She----------"

Before she could go on further, King Harald cleared his throat. Being a Sovereign, and a close friend to Ivar, he had been allowed to enter the cells unescorted. He glanced at Elizabeth and then at Ivar before giving a pleasant smile.

"If you please, Elizabeth, I have important matters to discuss with Ivar."

Content that she had left your husband stunned with her revelation, your sister caressed his shoulder.

"I am sorry to be the one to tell you this. But at least you know the truth for once."

With that, Elizabeth politely said her goodbyes to both men and left the cell. As soon as he was certain that your sister was gone, a stern King Harald eyed Ivar.

"I heard the last bits. For that, I apologize. That woman's voice carries."

Ivar remained dumbfounded as the pain caused by your sister's revelation coursed in his heart. However, he only remained so for a moment. Just as quickly, his jaw tensed and his eyes filled with rage.

"Friend, before you let anger get the best of you, listen to me." King Harald said as he took the seat beside Ivar. "I know what must be done once your trial is over. You must start taking control of your household and protecting all that is yours."

"Trust me when I say, that is the plan."

Looking around a briefly to ensure no guards were near, King Harald lowered his voice.

"Ivar, you have never hidden anything from me, so as a friend I must tell you the truth. Kill the snake or it will keep striking until it finally kills you."

"What?" An extremely furious Ivar said as he peered into his friend's eyes.

"We must kill Elizabeth!"

__________________

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