#ragnar *chooses to bring another woman home as a second wife*

[roseblues]

If anyone wants to witness the most brain dead misogynistic campaign on the most harmless character to ever exist then they should check out the Vikings fandom

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless + Hvitserk)

Who is in control?

Synopsis: Skuld’s family leaves for the Mediterenean so she spends some more time with Ivar before he leaves as well.

Warnings: toxic relationship, casual sex, little bit of smut, talk of personality disorder, hints of sub and mommy kink, attempted good girl kink

Masterlist

I don’t own the gifs.

Today would be the day Bjorn set out on his journey, bringing everyone willing with him. Ylva sharpened her weapons peacefully, praying to the gods to keep her sons and daughter safe. The girl, of course, spends the day with Ivar once again. Loving the way the boy hangs onto her every word and challenges her right back.

So it was obvious that she slept with Ivar again. Out of all the men in Kattegat right now, her youngest had to choose Ragnar's son. Once upon a time, even Ylva found Ragnar worthy of her bed. But she was married and had too many children. All Ragnar ever wanted were sons to carry on his legacy; what a joke it would be if Skuld would be the one to carry on Ivar's?

What felt like a thousand years ago, she lest her beloved husband to Ragnar's whims. And so all her attraction to the handsome king faded as well. Now, whenever she drank, she dreamt of all the ways of paying him back.

But the great Ragnar Lothbrok was very capable of destroying himself on his own. Taking a second wife, not raising his son, nearly killing his youngest, and abandoning them all. Now he was just a shell, while she has everything: children, loyal followers and allies, riches, and a throne.

All her children made her proud, and the older they got, the prouder she became.

Egil was their first child and looked like his father with his fair hair. Very responsible, but he had her anger and temper. How proud she was when he presented Liv to her. His lovely wife gave him a daughter soon enough. And the glory of battle overshadowed the need for an heir. Liv was, of course, too content to tell him she wanted more children. So Egil sailed to possibly imaginary lands and left Liv and Kara to watch after the earldom.

Gunne was a troublemaker since birth, so keen to annoy people. He had no problem with women or battle. So when he settled down with Hjordis, Ylva believed her a witch. But he grew calmer and boasted about his pretty wife that could dance the whole night away and never tire. Out of all her good daughters, Ylva liked the cheeky Hjordis the most.

Another favorite was Þórfríðr, Stigandr's wife. The third born was everything Ylva hated. Silent, shy, and unsure. Þórfríðr charmed him because she knew what she wanted and told him to do the same. The only place he was sure and precise was the battlefield. People may underestimate him, but in battle, he would always win.

Despite being the fourth son, Brandr worried about his siblings the most. He had a pure heart and will of steel. No luck with finding a wife and giving Ylva more grandchildren, but that's not everything in life. What matters is that he survives and lives on.

Haldor may not give her any grandchildren, but that doesn't matter. His curly hair and adorable smile warmed her heart the first time she saw him. He didn't scream like the others, only whined and snuggled closer. That attitude never really left him.

Skuld was the youngest. A little bit spoiled, but she was where Ylva bet her money on. She was wicked, intelligent, and brave, so much like her mother. Sometimes, Ylva worried for Skuld's mind. The girl didn't cry either when she was born. There had only been silence. But the babe wasn't dead; it just looked around with tired eyes, silently judging everyone. The more Skuld grew, the stranger she seemed.

She didn't follow cry when she fell; friends always surrounded her that she didn't care about and had no problem with violence. At first, Ylva thought it was her brothers' fault, but when she found her eight-year-old cutting herself, she knew it wasn't the truth. Apparently, she wanted to see how blood looked like up close, and Brandr ran away before she could find out.

Over time, her behavior lessened, and all that was left behind was charm and cunning. But sometimes, Ylva saw the same dangerous glint in her eyes as that day. And yet, she thought of Skuld as her best child. Her youngest had the best chance of moving up in the world and becoming successful.

That's why she allowed this charade with the Ragnarsson. As long as Skuld was enjoying herself, the danger of her violent side was low. And a Prince was better than the usual company she kept.

"Aren't you a confident virgin?"

"I am not a virgin anymore; you know that," Ivar growled into her ear, flipping under him and changing the slow teasing pace that she set. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I had worse." Skuld teased, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can go deeper, and scratched her nails down his nacked back. "But I also had better. So speed up, Ivar."

The Ragnarsson growled like a feral beast and bit into her collar bone to ground himself. With rougher trusts, he made the headboard bang against the wall so even his brothers will hear. He wanted them to remember the sounds and prove he was a man, and Margrethe just wasn't worthy of his cock.

Not like Skuld, who took his dick like she was born to do it. When she wasn't naked around him, she joked with him and smirked like a sly fox. To think that he didn't want her anywhere near him not even two days ago. And now, after round four, he felt like he found himself the perfect match.

"How about now?" He whispered into her ear; she didn't answer, probably didn't even hear him with how loud she was moaning. With one last high pitched moan, she shuddered under him and came. He followed five trusts later and collapsed next to her.

"A shame you will leave soon. Your mother will probably give me the cold shoulder the moment you sail off."

"Why?"

Skuld chuckled and rolled over to drape over his sweaty torso. "Her darling boy is leaving on a dangerous journey. And he chooses to spend his last moments home, fucking the guest." 

"Mother had me my whole life. It's only fair you had me for a little bit. I am doing what she asked of me before you came here." Ivar chuckled and pulled her closer, careful not to touch her back. She had limits just like him, he never showed his legs, and she never turned her back to him or let him touch it. Whatever the reason, he didn't really care as long as he got laid. "I am being a good host and paying you attention."

"How nice of you." She teased back, sitting up and leaving his bed again. This time not only to drink something like before. She picked up her discarded orange dress and put it on.

"You leaving already?"

"I have places to be. They are sailing away today, remember? I can't warm your bed for the whole day. I need breaks too."

"Not necessarily. You can still walk. That means you can come a few more times."

Skuld smirked at him and brushed his hair away from his face. "I created an insatiable monster."

"You could sate the beast like a good girl." Ivar tried the words, waiting for any indication that she liked the new kink. But Skuld chuckled and trailed her hands down his chest to paw at his cock.

"Or you could take what is offered and stop complaining like a spoiled brat. Be a good boy and get dressed." She drew her hand away from his lap and left him alone, looking dazed from her words. With a chuckled, he threw the furs off and left his bed.

Skuld walked to the shore where everyone was already present. Haldor was chatting with another man who enjoyed the attention. Her brother had some fun before he was supposed to leave as well. Good for him.

"I was worried you wouldn't see me off, Sweetheart." She turned on her heel to see the Ragnarssons standing there, waiting for their mother to stop talking to Harald and say her goodbyes.

"Maybe I came to take you to Valhalla before you could slay any enemies. Who are you to know?" Hvitserk grinned at her bold joke and moved closer to her.

He leaned to her ear and whispered softly. His breath lightly teasing her skin. "A shame I didn't have as much fun as you did. You are rather loud, you know?"

"I am aware, thank you. Thank the gods your brother will leave soon. Otherwise, I will die of exhaustion."

"I could talk to him if you want," Ubbe suggested only for her to shake her head.

"Let him. I am sure you were all the same. I still see the insatiable spark in your eyes as well." With the last sentence, she turned her eyes to Hvitserk, who was not hiding the fact that he ogled her chest. The second oldest smirked at her, no hints of shame, watching her as her oldest brother whisked her away.

"Another Ragnarsson, really? Isn't one enough?"

"If I were you, I would worry more about my survival than my sister's bed friends."

Egil rolled his eyes at her attitude and led her to the rest of their family, waiting for her. "Why, you think I won't make it? Do you truly have so little faith in me? Who do you think I am?"

"I think you are an idiot and annoying. Now leave me be, Egil." She seethed back at him and strode over to the rest of their family.

Ylva smiled a sad smile at her and drew her youngest to her. With uncharacteristically soft hands, she took her face in her palms and stroked her cheeks. "Stay close to Aslaug. She won't let anything happen to you."

"How can you be so certain? She has no place in her heart for anything other than her sons and wine." Skuld rolled her eyes at her mother's advice. She still saw the plan to leave her behind as a stupid decision.

It would have been better for Skuld to stay in Yugar and rule in her mother's place, instead of the three good-daughters that had the duty now. Placing her in Aslaug's household was a strategic move, a sign of trust and peace. If the Queen were to break it, she would face the rage of the Lioness and her five ferocious cubs.

"Maybe not, but she is clever and knows how to avoid war. Our relationships have strained enough thanks to her husband. The very one she despises as well. So going against him and entrusting you into her hands..."

"Is the perfect way to give her a sense of power with her hands still tied." Ylva nodded and kissed Skuld's hair as one last goodbye before departing for her journey. She hugged all her brothers as well. No matter how annoying they would get, they were family. And family always supports each other, especially if possible death looms over them. And with their tendency to get hurt in battle, this may be the last time they see each other.

"Keep your wits sharp, Skuld. May Freya protect you." Gunne whispered into her ear and passed her something wrapped in a cloth. He winked at her as he departed and sailed away.

Skuld's face was devoid of all emotion as her family grew smaller and smaller. In Kattegat, she was a stranger and probably rumored a whore. How much easier it would be for her to leave in the black of the night and return home—seeing Kara running around covered in mud while Liv scolded her halfheartedly. Hjordis stitching on the loom while Þórfríðr mocked her shaking fingers alongside Skuld.

But Ylva made a choice and gave her an order, if Skuld were to disobey, she would be punished. The last time she did it, her mother placed guards outside her door that chased away any lovers. Not even the thralls were allowed to be by her side. And that was only for being late to a meeting with another Earl.

When the small dots on the sea were gone, Skuld retreated to her family's hut. She sat down near the gone out fire and unwrapped the gift from her brother. Inside the cloth was a simple dagger with a wooden handle. It was light and easy to manipulate.

"Keep your wits sharp, huh?" She held the blade up for closer inspection and smirked in delight. It was a truly perfect gift. Skuld settled the dagger in her lap and teased her fingertips over the edge.

Skuld tucked the weapon away in her corset and left the silent hut. First, she must gather allies. And the best way to do that is to mingle with the common folk. Finding sympathies in Aslaug's court would be impossible; right now, the only trump card she holds over the Queen is that she saw her son naked.

The people in the market watched her walk by; she sent them smiles, playing the brave, lonely Lady. Slave traders, slaves, merchants, farmers - all useless to her right now. A merchant's ship would be a good escape in case of need. But they move on too fast, and she can't strike a deal with every boat that comes here. What she needs are whisperers. Little unseen things that will tell her all they know. And won't tell a soul they tattled to her.

"Margrethe! I would say it's fate that we meet, but that would be a lie. After all, I live where you work." The blonde slave smiled at her and shifted her hands in unease. "Would you like to walk with me?"

Of course, the girl had no other choice but to do as told. And so, Skuld led her away from the crowd by the arm. Smiling the whole time innocently. "Say, Margrethe... Does Ivar still bother you?"

Margrethe shook her head but still looked uneasy. She looked up at the taller female and leaned closer as if to tell a secret. "Did he...Did he hurt you?"

Skuld chuckled and pulled the scared girl closer to whisper into her ear. "In a way. But nothing I didn't like. Did he hurt you?"

"Yes."

Skuld frowned at the revelation. "Since the feast?"

"No... I only see him during meals. He doesn't even look at me." Margrethe confessed and looked at Skuld in confusion. It was weird of a foreigner to question thralls like this. The only one who ever asked her if she was okay was Sigurd, and he fucked her right after.

"That is good. I saw how uncomfortable you were that night. And I felt sorry. I also wanted to apologize for my flirting. I was drunk and wanted to lighten the mood. But I think I just made you more uncomfortable."

"It is alright."

Skuld shook her head and let Margrethe into an empty alley away from prying eyes. "Ivar is a cruel person, as we both know. And it would be better for everyone if they didn't know what we know. Or he might become even worse."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Margrethe denied, fully well knowing what the Earl's daughter was talking about. There was only one thing connecting them, and that was that they both slept with Ivar. Or attempted to in the thralls case.

"He told me, Margrethe. There is no need to deny it. And we don't have to talk about it. I know that night must have been scary. I just want you to know not to tell anyone."

"I told." The blonde whispered, scared, her eyes terrified. Skuld wondered what the cripple Prince did to her after he failed to get hard. A simple failed fuck would scare her so much. "I told Sigurd."

Skuld bit her lip at the dumb girl's actions. Scared or not, seeking refuge by the brother that spat venom at Ivar was stupid. One argument, and he might use it against Ivar, leaving Margrethe as the only possible source, especially when Skuld told the brothers that she and Ivar had no such problems.

"Don't worry. If Sigurd thinks you a liar, he won't spread the news. All I must do is prove them wrong. I did most of the job already. Just a few more things, and he will think Ivar more than capable."

"And how will you do that?" The wide eyes blonde stepped closer to Skuld. Trying to hear what plan the young female hatched.

Skuld leaned into her ear and whispered slowly, watching for any possible interruptions or witnesses. "Go to a healer and ask for Moon tea. Mention my name as often as possible. Ask for some herbs against pains as well. Say he left marks, and I ordered you to go there. Say anything that might sell the story, bruises, bite marks, even blood."

"Tell some slaves as well - the ones that spread the most rumors. I will walk with a slight limp and wince when I sit down. Moan and scream louder than before so everyone will hear. If they ask you what happened that night, you tell them naught. Deny any accusation and seem shifty. As if you lied about the whole thing."

Skuld pulled away after she was done whispering and watched the thrall try to remember the plan. "That will work. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive men like Ivar. Always one step ahead. If there is anything you know that could help us..."

"The Queen..." Margrethe trailed off, not sure if she should tell or not.

"Yes..."

She swallowed and looked around as if the woman would jump out at any moment. "She isn't fond of you. This morning she ordered Ivar to stop seeing you, but he protested and said he wouldn't. She thinks you a spy or that you have ulterior motives. Hvitserk just thinks you horny."

"That's more or less it. I am also bored and want Aslaug to regret her choice of taking me in. I could be at home annoying my good-sisters and niece instead of diddling her darling son. But thank you for the information anyway. I will remember your words well. Now go before someone finds us."

Margrethe ran off as Skuld watched her go, a deep sense of satisfaction sets in. Playing kind and concerned was as easy as breathing by now. Faking what people want to see or hear is easier than others think. Soon enough, they turn into little birds, fluttering around and gathering whispers and rumors—easy pray and yet useful. The more they believe you protect them and care for them, the more loyal they become.

During the night, Ivar sat next to her, propped on one arm. He was leaning over her with a frown on his face and kept pestering her. "Then why did you come to my bed if you don't want to sleep with me?!"

"I was lonely." Skuld shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with a teasing smirk. She was not hiding the fact that she is lying right into his eyes. "And maybe I wanted to be toughed kindly instead of being mauled by a beast."

Ivar looked away from her and laid back down. Refusing to even look at her as a spoiled child would. "Oooh. Don't be like that, Ivar. I want affection, give me some, and we can play." The young Prince continued to look away, pretending that he didn't hear her.

Skuld pulled a face at his stubbornness and rolled onto her side to catch his gaze. "Don't make me beg..."

"If you keep being difficult, I won't get in the mood at all..."

Skuld rolled her eyes, and forcefully turned his head to her. She held his cheeks in a tight grip, digging her thumb into his jaw in a warning. "I don't like being ignored, boy. So either you pay attention, or I will leave you to play all by your lonesome. How embarrassing would that be, huh?"

Ivar watched her with nearly black eyes, charmed by her rough treatment, and hissed words in a fake sweet tone. "What do you want?"

Skuld smirked and loosened her grip a little, caressing the tender spots with her thumb instead. "Hold me for a bit, and you can do what you want later on."

"Anything I want?" Ivar rasped out, looking like an addict with his drug right in front of him but still out of reach. She smirked in victory and patted his cheek mockingly.

"Within reason and boundaries. You do anything I don't like, and you will be punished. I am not a slave; remember that." The Ragnarsson nodded and pulled her against his chest, stroking her auburn hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all and just needed a firm hand.

After the cuddles, Skuld kept her promise and let him fuck her how he wanted. The boy saw some positions that he wanted to try, so they had a few rounds before they were both spent. As Skuld laid on her back with Ivar sleeping with his head on her chest, she watched the shadows on the ceiling.

Her dagger was on the floor, buried under her dress. For whatever reason other than brotherly worry, Gunne thought she needed a weapon. What he knew, he didn't tell. But there was something big coming if he was worried for her safety enough to arm her.

Ivar whined on her chest and buried his head deeper between her breasts. One of them hidden under his calloused hand, sleepily squeezing the boob. She sighed and scratched her nails over his scalp to lull him back to sleep, choosing to rest as well.

[shestrying2write]

Blank Pages pt 1

Pairing: Ivar x reader 

Warnings: My timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.

Word Count: 2,305

Author’s note: it’s kind of angsty? I love Ivar and I love suffering so here you go. I will probably write a second part, just because I don’t want this part to be too long. Please let me know what you guys think! I also didn’t edit it, so if you see any mistakes let me know.

Summary: Ivar must choose between the love of the man who abandoned him and the love of a woman he promised to never abandon.

Masterlist

Pt 2 // Pt 3

“What do you mean you’re leaving?!” A hurt Y/N shouted through tears as she stared at her best friend of years and recent lover. 

Ivar stared back, with his impatient blue eyes. “I’m going with my father Y/N” he repeated again. “Which part confused you?” His condescending tone, a mask to hide that he was truly sad to be leaving her. Y/N grabbed the first thing on her dresser, a brush, and threw it...hard. Ivar skillfully dodged it. “That almost hit me woman” he growled. 

“Yes. That was the point Ivar. Better I kill you than the saxons, or worse, your own father” She couldn’t believe her ears. After years of friendship, they finally had the courage to admit they had more than friendly feelings toward each other. Then came Ragnar and Ivar ran to him, like a dog whose long lost owner came back. 

“No one is going to kill me Y/N.” Ivar took a deep breath to calm himself then chuckled at seeing her red face. She cared. He could tell that she truly cared for him and he didn’t know why. She was better off without him, a cripple, bringing her down. He saw the way people looked at them together, he heard the whispers. “Except perhaps for you” he tried joking to ease her anger. It worked, slightly. She rolled her eyes and walked over to him, dropping to her knees in front of him, to be more at eye level as he sat on her bed. 

“I’m scared of losing you. I just found you. We just found each other” she whispered, her hand resting on his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch and smiled, his eyes closing. 

“You’re not going to lose me. I’ll come back to you...Eventually” his words brought her no comfort. She knew she couldn’t just sit around and hope that he was alive and well. So she did the one thing she promised herself she’d never do to anyone. She gave him an impossible choice, in the hopes of convincing him to stay. 

“Then you’ll lose me” she stated coldly as she removed her hand. Ivar’s eyes opened wide as he looked at her, waiting for further explanation. 

“Wh-What do you mean?” He mumbled, his hands trying to seek out hers. 

“If you go with your father, I will not wait for you Ivar. Stay with me or lose me” she couldn’t look into his blue eyes without tears threatening to run down her face. Though as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop them. She slowly inched closer to him, her lips a centimeter from his. “Please Ivar. Choose me, choose happiness, stay with me, marry me” her voice broke on her last words as she pleaded with him. He leaned in and closed the gap between their faces, pressing his lips against hers as hard as he could. Trying to memorize every inch of her lips, the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the way she whimpered softly when he bit her lip and the way her eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, begging for more. Her eyes were filled with hope, and it broke his heart that he now had to break hers. 

“I can’t” he whispered almost inaudible, but by the look on her face, he knew she heard him. She stood up and wiped her eyes. “Please understand. I have to do this. I have to prove myself” he pleaded, but she was in no mood to hear him anymore. 

“Get out” she said through gritted teeth

“Please understand Y/N…” she didn’t give him a chance to finish. She wanted nothing more than to cry and throw things. Ivar knew he needed to do this. He needed to prove that he was a Viking and that he deserved the love of someone like her. 

“I SAID. GET. OUT!” He had never heard her so angry, and when he tried to reach out to her she yanked her arm away and walked to the other side of the room. “Please just — just go Ivar” she was hurt and he could see that. He had hurt the one person who had loved him as much as he loved her for someone who abandoned him and there was no turning back. 

Before he dragged himself out he muttered his last words to her “I really do love you. I hope you will be at the docks when I return and I truly hope you will come see me off” she didn’t respond, she didn’t even look in his direction, but he could hear her soft sobs. With that, he left. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

He looked onto the docks, there was his mother and other people he didn’t care for. He had truly hoped and expected that Y/N would show up to say goodbye, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. Their argument had been two days ago and he hadn’t seen her since. He gave a letter to one of his thralls to give to Y/N. He had stayed up all night thinking about what to write and what to say to make it better. But he knew nothing would change what was going to happen. It was all in the hands of the gods now. 

Ivar left and the thrall arrived at Y/N’s door. She gave her the letter and was dismissed back to Aslaug. Y/N’s eyes were red and puffy, she hadn’t stopped crying since Ivar had left. She felt destroyed. When she opened the letter there were only ten words on it. 

“Y/N,

I love you and I’m sorry. 

Forever yours,

Ivar”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Her days felt lonely and she tried to keep them busy by visiting Queen Aslaug. She was just as torn as Y/N and together they found comfort in each other. Aslaug hadn’t always been a fan of Y/N because she always suspected that she might be using her son, and she constantly waited for the other foot to drop, but it never did. Then she felt like Y/N was stealing Ivar from his mother, but seeing her all mopey now, she realized they were the same. They both loved Ivar and wanted nothing but his return. What Aslaug didn’t know was that Y/N had already packed her belongings and was simply trying to find the courage to leave. 

She knew she told Ivar that she wouldn’t wait for him, but she wanted to. She didn’t want to leave him, she loved him, more than she had ever loved anyone else. She had turned down foreign suitors when they had asked for her hand, and denied the advances of most men if Ivar hadn’t liked them. Of course now she knew why he didn’t like most men, he was jealous. The thought that he couldn’t possibly love her as much as he claimed if he left her so easily always rattled in her mind and she hated it. Of course she understood that he had always felt like he had to prove himself a warrior, a true viking, but she wished that her seeing him that way would have been enough. 

Once Aslaug had woken up screaming and crying of Ivar’s death, Y/N knew there was nothing tying her to Kattegat. Aslaug was never wrong, her dreams, her premonitions, always being clear and true. Y/N comforted Aslaug as best as she could and one night while Aslaug was asleep, she had slipped a letter under her pillow explaining that she had to leave and that she was sorry and that she looked forward to seeing Ivar again when it was her time to go and eat with the gods. 

She had left most of her belongings in her home, not wanting to carry more than she needed. Her desk covered in crumbled pieces of parchment, all started with varying versions of ‘Dear Ivar,’ but not much else. She could never bring herself to write much after his name because she found herself crying or throwing things. The final letter she wrote had the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ crossed out before they too were tossed aside. 

She loaded her cart with some dresses that Ivar had the best seamstress in Kattegat make for her, a dagger he had gifted her and enough food and water to last her a week. She let one last tear fall from her eyes as she said goodbye to her childhood home forever. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“A great army. At my command. Imagine it brothers” Ivar had been on one of his rants again. His brothers had, had enough. Sigurd with his mockery began pestering Ivar. And as always Ubbe made an attempt to settle their quarrels while Hvitserk just sat there eating. 

Bjorn having had enough just slammed his fist on the table, making all the brothers turn their attention to him, “we won’t succeed in avenging our father if we cannot get Earl Erik to agree to join us” with a frustrated gruff he pushed his plate far away from him. 

Ivar rolled his eyes “Brother please, with all the men and women coming to help us, we have more than enough to succeed” biting another piece of meat. 

Bjorn chuckled “You are naive brother, if you believe your words. Earl Erik has enough men and women at his disposal that he would nearly double our current army. They say his current wife is a great shieldmaiden who helped him conquer many villages. We want them as an ally, we want their loyalty. He has agreed to hear me out. We will place nice” he looked directly at Ivar and then Sigurd “We will make him feel welcomed and we will not waste his time with your pointless pissing contests. Are we clear?” 

Both brothers just gave a grunt of agreement and said nothing else. “I’ve heard she is as beautiful as she is terrifying in battle” Ubbe jumped in. 

Hvitserk nodded “They say she seduced her first husband and then murdered him for his army and now she’s slowly conquered Norway with her new husband. She’s giving king Herald a run for his money” he laughed as he continued eating. 

“A woman that powerful? I’m sure they greatly exaggerate. She’s probably not even real. I’m sure it’s all stories spread by Earl Erik’s own people.” Ivar grumbled. 

“Well whatever the case. We will pose our arguments and try to convince him to help. I expect you all on your best behaviors” as Bjorn finished his sentence a thrall rushed in slightly out of breath. 

With very little patience Ivar yelled “Spit it out already!” The poor thrall jumped and took a deep breath before speaking. 

“Earl Erik’s boats are on the horizon. He will be here before nightfall” She quickly exited as to not anger the brothers any further. 

Bjorn smiled and sent the slaves to prepare for the festivities that would be occurring as soon as Earl Erik arrived. “Let the preparations begin.” He stood up and excused himself to get ready. 

“I bet his wife won’t even show up with him” Ivar mockingly laughed. “And if she does I’m sure she is as average as they get.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— •—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

“Earl Erik!” Bjorn held his arms out “Welcome to Kattegat. I hope your journey went well” 

Earl Erik towered slightly over Bjorn as he walked over. “Prince Bjorn. Long time, no see” They hugged and Erik turned to the rest of Bjorn’s brothers as he was introduced to them. They bowed heads to each other and everything seemed to be flowing nicely as they walked to the great hall together. 

Once they were there and everyone had a drink in hand Ivar opened his mouth. “So Earl. Where is this wife we’ve been hearing so much about?” Ubbe gave him a warning look but Ivar didn’t care “Was she too sick to travel perhaps?” Bjorn heard his tone and knew exactly what Ivar was insinuating. 

Earl Erik just chuckled and finished his drink. “She traveled with me. But said she did not want to be introduced to Ragnar’s sons right after a long trip. She told me to go ahead and she and our son would catch up later.” He knew what Ivar implied. Erik wasn’t stupid he knew exactly what Ivar meant to imply. It didn’t go past Erik that he was much older than they were and his once pretty looks were overtaken by white hairs in his red beard and scars on his cheeks from years of battle. “I’m sure you all will enjoy her company. Just not too much I hope” he teased his old friend Bjorn with an elbow to his side. Ivar just nodded and continued drinking, saying nothing else. 

After several rounds and toasts, the doors opened once again, and there stood two women, one holding a bundled up baby and behind her a woman with her face hidden by a cloak. Erik’s face broke into the biggest smile he had since arriving and the brothers took notice. “That must be your wife” Ivar half chuckled, staring at the lackluster blonde woman in raggedy clothes with spots across her nose, holding the baby.  He knew it, a woman, nothing special or grand about her. What Ivar wasn’t expecting was for Erik to walk right past her and lean down to the smaller woman in the cloak. His hands were on either side of her face as he pulled her in for a kiss, making her hood fall. He turned his attention to the crowd “Everyone. Please, meet my lovely wife—“ as her face came into view Ivar whispered her name at the same time that Earl Erik shouted it to the room “Y/N”

Tags:

@hunnybunn56​

[plus-size-reader]

Crave.

Bjorn Ironside x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2166 words

Warnings:none

Summary: Bjorn’s ex wife coming back to Kattegat after the two of you split up and he can’t deal with the feelings her return brings.

———————————————————————————————————

When you and Bjorn first got divorced, he never thought that he'd see you again.

You left Kattegat, and had no intention of ever looking back.

That was supposed to be it.

The two of you had fallen out of love, and you weren't going to stay in a place like this and be looked upon as a fool. It wasn't going to happen.

What could be worse than living in the same town as the man you'd once loved? And to make matters worse, he was a son of Ragnar.

That meant that he was more or less untouchable in a place like Kattegat. He was well respected and if it came down to it, they would choose him over you. It was just the way that it went.

And you couldn't blame them.

Bjorn was a brilliant warrior and strategist. He was of much more use to them than some shield maiden ever could be. The most logical choice would be for you to pack your things and go...

So you did.

It didn't matter that you and he had now split up, it broke Bjorn's heart in two to watch you sail away from the shore. He may not have been in love with you anymore, but you would always hold a place in his world.

You had occupied a large part of his heart and nothing was ever going to change that.

Not even a divorce could pull you two apart forever, he knew that.

Somewhere deep down inside, he knew that you two would never really be separated. It just wasn't in your nature.

He couldn't help but think about the way you two had met in the first place. You got into a huge fight with Hvitserk in the town square over a stolen loaf of bread, and by the time he'd gotten to you, you had a knife held to the much younger boy's throat.

There was a fire burning in your eyes, and you screamed at him when he pulled you from his brother.

You had made many threats that day, to kill them all but you both knew that they were empty.

The more you two came in contact with one another, the more you started hoping to run into him. Your interactions were full of spiteful arguments and playful fights to mask the obvious connection between you until you couldn't keep it up anymore.

Once you kissed for the first time, you two could hardly be separated, practically glued to his bed for days. You were desperate for one another, and it was only natural that he took you as his wife.

He had never felt that way for another person before and he didn't know how he would continue without you by his side.

There was no other choice.

He had to make you his.

Similarly, as he watched the boat carrying you, disappear into the horizon, he knew that this would be the same.

You may have fought, and argued, but before long, you would be just as close as you'd been before. It was unavoidable...

Or so he thought.

At first, days passed. Then weeks. Then months.

All with no sight of you.

He'd swore that you would be back but the longer you were gone, the more he doubted that.

It was that simple fact that broke his heart.

You had truly decided to leave him and never look back.

He had fully given up hope of ever seeing you again...

~

The moment your boots met the dock, you felt a flood of relief wash over you. It felt nice to be home, it felt good to be back in Kattegat.

It was your home, and would always be your home. However, it felt different.

Everything you laid eyes on now, was different.

Tainted with memories that you’d had with the man you’d once loved.

The beach where you and Bjorn had spent many nights together, and the place where he’d taught you to skin your first rabbit. The river where you’d swam on hot summer days, and the fire you’d curl up next to when the winds of winter howled.

It had all happened with that hulking idiot of a man beside you, and it didn’t seem right without him.

Everywhere you went was emptier, and darker without him. Everything you saw meant so much littler without him.

The great big world you had so desired to see, the reason you’d left Kattegat in the first place, meant nothing without Bjorn...

And you hated that.

You had made such a mess of the whole thing when you’d decided to leave him, but admitting that would be far too difficult.

You had divorced him for Odin’s sake. There was no way for you to go back to him and tell him that you’d been wrong. Not only would that make you look weak and stupid, but it would arguably not change anything.

If you knew anything about Bjorn, it was that he’d probably given his heart away again, as soon as you’d left.

The was just the kind of man that he was, he couldn’t help it. Still, it made your arrival on the shores of Kattegat that much more complicated, knowing that he still lived there.

And he did.

The news of your return had traveled fast through the people and before long, Ragnar, Bjorn and every one else had heard the news of you arriving.

At first, it had gladdened him to know that you were still alive. However, more than anything, he was struggling with the idea that he was going to have to see you again.

What could he say? What could he do? There was no right way to deal with you now, after everything.

He didn’t know what to say to you, there was nothing that would change the way that things had ended between the two of you...no matter how much he wanted to go back and make it right.

Luckily for him, you didn’t arrive at their home for quite some time until you were finally ready.

You had to pray to the gods before you had enough courage to do so.

But, as soon as you were ready to greet them, you walked confidently up to their front step.

Bjorn had seen you coming, and had more than enough time to think about what he wanted to say or do when you made it up the path. However, when the moment finally came, he was practically cowering like a frightening child.

"Hello Y/N" he greeted, keeping his eyes off of you as best he could, he knew that the moment he met that cold gaze of yours, it would all be over for him.

Bjorn had always had a weakness for those eyes. It was something that you knew well, and would likely use against him to get what you wanted.

You smiled, peaking up at him from your fur hood. "Long time no see, Ironside" you purred, that smirk finding its way onto your face as you waited for him to invite you inside.

You had never had your own home in Kattegat, and while it wouldn't have been hard to find another man to keep you for the night, you knew Bjorn would never allow it.

While the two of you may not have been married anymore, that didn't mean he was going to allow you to traipse around Kattegat like a common thrall. Everyone in this town knew who you belonged to, and wouldn't go against a son of Ragnar...

No matter how stunningly beautiful you may have been.

"Perhaps that's because you got on a boat and sailed far away from here" he bit back, making it very clear that he was still upset with you for doing that.

He had thought everything was fine between the two of you, and had even planned to have a child with you. However, that had all changed when you woke up, complaining about how small Kattegat was.

Apparently, you were desperate enough to see more of the world, and were willing to leave him behind to do so.

"I needed to go Bjorn, I had to see what was out there, but while I was on the open water, I realized something..." you explained, following him into the house, before taking a seat by the roaring fire.

He only grunted at that, which you took as a sign to continue.

"The world means very little without the person you love by your side"

Your words hung in the air for a moment as Bjorn tried to comprehend what you were telling him. He still had his broad back to you, staring out the open window as he thought over each word you'd said.

With each passing moment, you thought that he was going to reject you, perhaps even throw you out into the snow.

However, he made no move to do such a thing.

Instead, he kept staring into the outside as if the gods would give him a sign if he looked hard enough. He just wasn't sure what to tell you.

Of course he loved you, he'd never stopped but after everything, could he just welcome you back with open arms?

What were the chances that you'd get bored of him once again and leave his heart in pieces?

Bjorn knew himself well enough and while he may have survived that the first time, it would likely kill him to lose you a second time.

"Well? Are you going to say anything?" you asked, getting antsy in the silence. He had to be thinking something, and it wasn't fair of him to not share his feelings with you.

You were pouring your heart out to the man, the least he could do was look at you.

"What do you want me to say?" He barked, turning quickly to meet your eyes. "Should I propose once again? Maybe promise you my heart a second time? What do you want from me woman?" he yelled, his voice booming in the small space.

You should have been expecting this reaction. You had come to Bjorn asking too much of him, and if he had done this to you, you would have reacted the same way.

It wasn't fair of you to ask him to consider such a thing but you had no other choice. You loved him, whether you'd made a mistake in the past or not.

Still, he could yell all he wanted, he wasn't going to get you to back down.

You had dealt with many of Bjorn's fits of anger in the past and never had you given in so easily. Surely he wasn't expecting submission from you out of the blue like this?

"I want you to admit that you still love me too. I want you to tell me that you've missed me as much as I've missed you with each passing day, but not if it would be a lie" you explained, yelling back at him with just as much passion in your tone.

There was a fire in your belly, and you were not going to give up without a fight. However, that didn't mean you'd want him to be with you out of obligation. If you were going to do this again, it would be because you both wanted it.

"Yeah? Is that what you want from me? After everything you did, why should I?" he challenged, stomping over to you until your faces were only a few inches apart.

You could feel his raging breath on your face, and it only served to fan the fire you were feeling.

Why he insisted on challenging you like this, you would never be sure. "Because you love me" you whispered, the heat from your skin radiating onto his own. If he got any closer to you, you would be sharing the same air.

However, it was clear that neither of you minded very much.

After so much great distance, it seemed as if too close wasn't possible.

"Do I? Prove it" he hissed, that arrogant smirk finding its way onto his face.

You were conflicted for a moment. You weren't sure if you wanted to strike him or bring him to his knees in front of you.

The moment perfectly summed up how you'd felt about Bjorn your entire life. It was always this battle for power, but you were addicted to it.

You couldn't let him go, no matter how much you wanted to.

You craved him, and it was clear that he craved you just the same.

Before you could even think up something clever to say to him, his lips were smashed against your own in a heated rush.

It was obvious that you were both desperate to feel one another again because it wasn't long at all before you found your way to his bed. Your body trapped between the furs and his own muscular frame.

"Tell me" you ordered, between rushed kisses.

He didn't even need to clarify what you were talking about, leaning his forehead against your own. "I love you" he purred, his breath raging and chest heaving against your own in an attempt to catch his breath.

[honestsycrets]

A Bed Slave || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ request | Could you write a fic for 5 crowns where Hvitserk has a slave but he starts to develop feelings for her?

❛ word count | 1850

❛ genre | angst and some fluff

❛ summary | queen aslaug bought her for children. she chooses hvitserk as her first test subject.

❛ warnings | heavy angst, sexual slavery.

This was the natural order of things.

Queen Aslaug wanted grandchildren. When Margrethe failed to provide them, she… went through other means. Bed slaves would not be expensive for a queen. They could spread their legs, receive seed and do the household chores that she would need in caring after her future grandchild. The only question was which of her sons would do the initial seeding.

Her sweet Ivar was too traumatized from the wretched sex to convince himself to try again. That meant three other sons, or rather, two. Sigurd would have been a slap in the face to his younger brother. So indeed Aslaug picked the easiest of the two to control.

Hvitserk would be her baby making son. He was simple. Feed him, sleep with him and provide him with a smile. He was without those possessive qualities, or so Aslaug thought, that would make Ubbe a trouble child when she tried to give the slave to others.  

“I’m out with the boys.” Hvitserk jauntily steps forward to where you were serving his porridge. He sweeps the warm bowl from your fingers, leaning in to tuck your hair around the shell of your ear. The flutters in your belly are instantaneous and god, you curse yourself for being so weak to them. He brings a spoon to his lips and begins to snarf down the porridge while you giggle to the way that he eats his food so quickly.

“What? You think that’s funny?” He asks while spinning you around, plopping you down into his lap like a prize.

“Not that, my prince.” You laugh. “You’re snarfing your food again. You’ll get a belly ache before you even practice.”

“Will I?” Hvitserk smooths his hand along your back and allows it to rest on the arm of the chair.

“Yes!”

He was always the highlight of his day. The moment that he left the Great Hall, as he inevitably had to, you fell back into the duties of being a thrall. After banter at breakfast, he placed a small kiss to the top of your head on his way out. Your eye lingers on him for a second before you would clean after the bowl nearly scraped clean and huge spoon of bone.

“Slave, are you with child?” Aslaug steps away from the loom toward you. She reaches out to your stomach under the looses fabric of your dress meant to allow you to grow for your young child. You look down to her slender fingers that stroke over the curve that not even the father of your child had seen.

“Yes my queen.” You answer. Her lips curve into a foxish grin, dreams now realized.

“Not a word to Hvitserk. Better he not wrap himself up in Kattegat with a thrall but go with Bjorn for glory. He must not grow attached.” She commands, stripping you of any ideas you might have had to tell the Ragnarsson. While she may sound to have his best interests in heart, you know that underneath it all is a layer of derision.

“And do not forget, you are here to breed with my sons and bring us children.” She smoothes over your growing bump, pulling your chin in to kiss you upon the forehead. You know better than that. That kiss was the seal to this deal. One you never had a word in.

“Yes my queen.”

When not warming Hvitserk’s bed, you sleep upon the hay in the barn. Or at least you used to before you fell with child. Now it… is strange to have a bed. Though be it on the floor, it’s warm. You do not have to worry about the chill in the winter and less so that men might storm in at night and set the barn ablaze.

Rather you concern yourself with your child. Beneath this loose dress that protected your growing little one. Somehow, Hvitserk respected your desires not to undress in his bed. Sometimes you think that he might notice your stomach growing little by little. Most the times, he does not.

“Is he going to be a boy?” A young, dark haired thrall is at your side. Her skin contrasts against the smooth creamy white of your dress as she touches you. Soon Hvitserk would leave for raiding-- but you felt no less alone. Pregnancy was meant to be a wonderful time for a couple! Still it warms you to see your companion’s eyes widen in her disbelief when the little one inside kicks. Your womb feels full as does your heart.

“I feel so in my heart he will be.” You sigh contently, running your finger over your swell.

“Master Hvitserk will be soooooo proud.” The little girl beams. You place your finger to her lips as if to quiet her.

“We musn’t tell him.” You say regardless of the fact that… oh god, you really wanted to. You could see nothing better than your prince running his fingers over your stomach. His lips would kiss the swell, getting a swift kick from his son within.

You would soon have to warm the others. First, Aslaug says Ubbe. Then it would be Sigurd and at long last, you would coax Ivar out of his shell. The sons of Ragnar would fill you and they alone would have ambitions and passion.

“Why not?” The young girl asks. Oh, so innocent. You reach out to her, cupping her cheek.

“I am different from you, sweet girl. I am a bed slave.” You sigh. “I only exist to bring children to this home and pleasure Queen Aslaug’s sons.”

Oh, she says. She was still young to fully appreciate these things. Your hand massages over your stomach, dropping your head back upon the pillow stuffed with hay. Your eyelids feel heavy with exhaustion after a long day.

“In your own time, you’ll understand.”

In the forest, they could get away from their mother and all the eyes of Kattegat. Sigurd’s axe hooked Hvitserk’s swords, swirling them around out of his grip. He chucks the blade in another direction, laughing. Hvitserk’s cheeks redden as he was caught off guard. This wasn’t like him. He loved fighting.

“What is wrong with you Hvitserk? Losing to Sigurd?” Ivar sits upon a stump of a tree, swirling a cup of heavy and bitter ale. Sigurd drops it to the floor, bringing his arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“I have been thinking.” Hvitserk stretches out his arms over his head, scratching his beautiful braids. “I want to marry the slave girl.”

“The bed slave?” Ivar asks.

“Which other?”

His brothers stop.

They just stop. Ubbe’s bright laugh dies on his lips and Sigurd, who had been jaunty about his victory over Hvitserk, does the same.

“What?” Sigurd asks. “Is this because she is with child?”

Ubbe could never pause the words on Sigurd’s tongue but perhaps this time, he wishes he could have. Hvitserk’s hands fall from the back of his neck down to his sides. Those brilliant green eyes are wide in his shock.

“She… she is pregnant?” He stutters.

Sigurd folds his arms one over another. “Ask her yourself.”

It’s later that night that he finally chooses to ask her. His mother was fast asleep and his brothers were just as asleep in their alcohol induced comas. You had gone to sleep in your usual bed of straw. It was the lack of warmth that shook you awake. Your skirts are thrown up around your round belly. He stares upon your stomach, gazing at the curve.

“You…”

“I--I’m with child.”

Yeah, like he couldn’t figure that one out now… but he was set to set out off Kattegat tomorrow! Your stomach was so distended that he was sure that you would give birth while he was on raid. Hvitserk’s breath is forced as he brings his hand up to your stomach, affectionately stroking the curve.

“I don’t understand.” He reasons with himself. “Why did you not tell me?”

Because you were a slave.

“Queen Aslaug told me not to.”  

What did that have to do with anything? Was there ever… for a moment doubt that he would take care of you? Hvitserk’s eyebrows push together, reaching out to place a hand upon his child in your belly.

“Why would mother say that?” He asks knowing his own mother to be… trifling, yes. But this?

“She wants me to breed with the other sons of Ragnar after I give birth.”

It doesn’t add up for Hvitserk. You see the confusion flitting over his face and oh-- you wish that you had been more careful sleeping. You should have never left your stomach exposed sleeping on your side under the fur that Aslaug gave you to keep yourself warm with.

“Come with me to the Mediterranean.”

On raid? You were so close to delivering your child. You couldn’t possibly… or could you? He was leaving soon after all and if you were tending to Hvitserk like a thrall would it could be perfect.

“I would make a bad thrall for raiding.” You note but to your surprise, Hvitserk only holds up his hand to shush you.

“Not as a thrall.��� He takes a long breath, shoving himself forward. “As a free woman and my wife. Floki is bringing Helga, why should you be any different?”

Because if Queen Aslaug found out, you fear the whippings that might come of that. Even at the prospect of being free, you are afraid. Freedom was something meant for those born into it. You were born into slavery and as you know it, you would always be a slave. Your lack of response brings Hvitserk to lay by your side in your bed, his slender stomach bumping against your swollen midsection. Hvitserk rests his hand on top of the bump, affectionately swirling his hand on top of it.

“You were my first love, you know.” He states it like it was nothing. “You used to braid the scraps from mother’s loom into your hair and tease all the men in Kattegat. Bed slaves… they do something to a man, hm?”

“Stop talking like that, my prince.” You murmur, resting back. “You make a slave woman hopeful…”

“Hopeful?” He asks in his confusion.

“Hopeful that I could be more than this.” You bring your hands to your face. More than a bed slave, he knows. He peeks at you from the space between your fingers, drawing them back little by little off your face.

“You could be. If you said yes.”

Hvitserk wouldn’t lead you astray. He would protect you… right? It’s a bit scary to rest all of your hopes, your dreams and visions in his hands. After all, he was the quietest of all the brothers. Perhaps, though, this was to his advantage.

“Yes, my prince.”

“My husband?” He teases, bringing your hand to his lips. Finally your cheeks burn red and hot, thinking of something you knew in your heart that you would never have. Up to now-- now you finally have it within hands reach.

“Yes, my husband.”

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[kristylovesvikings]

Ivar imagine #7 “help I’ve fallen and am perfectly capable of getting up but refuse to”

It was an arranged marriage. Your father was a big supporter of King Ragnar. He would do anything for Ragnar as they were friends as boys. When you had been born the two men would often joke about you and Ivar marrying. It was always a joke until Ragnar wanted to raid Paris. Your father was many things loyal was only one of them. He had long decided he wanted to be a man of many trades. The one he seemed to love most was breaking horses. It isn’t mean just an expression. That was what he would tell you as a girl you were so terrified to see a man you look up to hurt an animal no matter how many times he told you it wasn’t mean you couldn’t bring yourself to learn how to train horses so they were rideable. It no longer mattered because now you sat at a table with your father across from King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug discussing your arranged marriage to their youngest Ivar.

You couldn’t help but notice the look in the eyes of Queen Aslaug as she listened to the conversation. It was a sad look. You understood she would be sad to marry her last son off but the look seemed to go deeper. She meet your eye and the sad look only deepened. Your father and Ragnar stood telling you and Queen Aslaug they were going to go for a walk to talk about logistics. Leaving you alone with Aslaug they left and took all conversation with them. Aslaug broke the silence “I love my son. I would do many things for him. Finding him a woman to spend the rest of his life with is not one of those things.” You nodded. You knew she wasn’t fond of this marriage it wasn’t hard to see. “I know you might not be happy but maybe your son could be happy with me.” Aslaug listened to you talk but she laughed after you finished. “Ivar will never be happy not the way you and I are happy. Ivar is different. Ivar is cold. Ivar is unkind. I am sorry your father and Ragnar are marrying a girl like you to a boy like him.” With that she stood leaving you frozen.

All you wanted to do was disappear. The words Aslaug said whirled around your head. Different. Cold. Unkind. She said she was sorry and it truly looked like she meant it. It horrified you what kind of man was your father marrying you to? Your father always told you if he had to marry you off that he would at least choose someone you could love one day. Did he lie? Every time he said that was it a lie? You couldn’t look at him when he came home you were sure of that. Gathering your furs on your bed you curled into yourself thinking of the stories you heard of Ivar. In some way or the other they fit different, cold, and unkind. Closing your eyes you hoped you didn’t have to spend a lot of time with Ivar before the marriage.

The next week you spent hiding from Ivar. His brothers would talk to you sometimes Bjorn and Ubbe seemed the most genuine. Hvitsverk seemed to wait for you to say something what you weren’t sure but you knew he wanted you to confirm something to him and it made you uneasy. Talking to Sigurd was another feeling altogether. It was confusing and frustrating. It seemed to go further than Hvitsverk but in a mean or malicious way unlike anything you have ever seen you tried not to talk to Sigurd more than you tried to avoid your intended.

The week came and went. Soon your father cornered you “Where have you been y/n?” Before you could make up some lie he spoke again “Ivar is sitting in the throne room with his mother and father. Ragnar and Aslaug are gathering all the Ragnarssons to make the announcement that you and Ivar will marry during the full moon 3 nights from now.” “Father…” you started to tell him your reservations about marrying a man you barley know but he cut you off again “Y/n now! We must not be late for such a grand announcement.” Pulling you by your arm he walked into the throne room. Just inside you could see all the Ragnarssons sitting with Ivar. Looking more closely you could see Hvitserk and Sigurd poking fun at Ivar. Your father sighed as Ragnar got the attention of everyone in the room making Hvitserk and Sigurd fall quiet leaving Ivar alone but unhappy.

“Everyone please quiet down. I have an announcement to make. My youngest Ivar Ragnarsson is to be married to y/n on the full moon 3 nights from now!” As Ragnar made the announcement you and Ivar made eye contact for the first time in a week and you felt something in the room shift. It was like a when you were little and you heard thunder for the first time your father was on a hunt celebrating a friend’s new child. The thunder had scared you so bad you hid under the furs of your bed and everything felt ok. Hiding under the furs and looking at Ivar felt the same.

The next 3 days came and went. It was the day of your marriage. You still had not spoken to Ivar. In all honesty you were scared to. The ceremony came and went just as fast as the announcement had. Sitting in the throne room next to Ivar you listened to Ragnar and your father speak of many plans they had for the two of you. As the night passed slow but your cup of ale filled as fast as ever. It seemed like every sip it magically filled more. Ivar seemed to always catch your eye you knew he must have something to do with how much ale was in your cup at all times.

Ivar looked drunk. But how did you know you had never seen Ivar drunk. Well you had never seen Ivar do anything really. Your cup of ale seemed always full as did Ivar’s. People started to leave and retire to their homes. It was almost too quickly that you and your father were alone with the Ragnarssons. Your father excused himself after saying he loves you and telling you he is proud of you and Ivar. Ivar leaned to you “do you wish to go to the cabin y/n?” His eyes were hooded and he just spoke the most he had that night but you couldn’t say no. “Yes Ivar.” He grabbed his crutches as he led you to the cabin. As you walked alongside him you two spoke about how he and all of the Ragnarsson men built this cabin for you two to live in after the marriage.

It was custom that the man would build the cabin but as Ivar is crippled he would never be able to build the whole thing without injuring himself in some way you thought it was sweet Ivar was trying to make conversation at least now away from prying eyes. Once inside the cabin you both now shared Ivar sat with his back to you as he took out his braids for the day. You turned to him “Ivar…” He noticed your hesitation so he turned to look at you “I will not push you to do anything you are not comfortable with y/n you are my wife now... I need you to know that.” You smiled “Thank you Ivar. One more thing… Ivar I had many women help me into this dress and I don’t know if I can untie it myself.” You blushed he was used to shield maidens and girls that can protect themselves not girls that were stuck in their wedding dress.

Ivar nodded making a motion for you to come closer. You faced away from him as he untied your dress as you waited you noticed how careful he was not to rip it. You had heard many stories of men on their wedding nights and how they would rip off the clothing of their bride. Many of the women that helped you get dressed told you stories of how their husbands didn’t even wait until they were away from prying eyes. Waiting for Ivar you couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t interested in you in that way. Ivar was taking his time so when he rested his hands on your hips you thought he was done but you thought wrong and you pulled away. Hearing a thud you turned only to see Ivar on the ground seeming stunned “help I’ve fallen and am perfectly capable of getting up but refuse to” he laughed. You stood frozen. How could you hurt your husband? Laughing at your expression he said “its ok love. Im alright. But I am tired lay with me.” Looking at him like he had grown 3 heads you laid at his side. Soon you and Ivar fell asleep cuddled into each other’s arms on the floor of your cabin.

Someone was knocking. You heard knocking and a groan to your left. Ivar pushed you off of him. “Get the door wife.” At some point in the night you had slipped off your big dress and had fallen into a deeper sleep with just your slip on. As you stood to see whoever was knocking on the door you debated on putting the big dress back on again quickly realizing that you couldn’t lace it up even if you did you went ahead and answered the door.

Opening the door you came face to face with the Ragnarsson boys. You felt their eyes take in your slip and messy hair “ummmm Ivar your brothers are here…” Looking back to Ivar you noticed he had fallen asleep again. Letting the Ragnarssons inside you shook Ivar “your brothers are here get up and greet them Ivar. I am going to bathe. Goodbye husband.” You didn’t know why you said husband it wasn’t like you had said it before you just couldn’t help yourself from saying it. As you bathed in the second room of your cabin you listened to the brothers tease your husband before he finally shooed them out of the cabin with the promise of ‘getting in the bath with his wife.’ You couldn’t help but wish he was being truthful. Ivar dragged his body inside the room you were in. “Good morning wife.” Smirking you knew he was teasing you and it made you feel a little better about being married to him. “Want to bathe with me husband?” A look settled onto his face one you had never seen directed at you as he answered “I would love to wife.” Sliding down the side of the tub he smiled at you running his hands through your hair he made a promise to you “y/n I want you to be happy and I want to be happy with you so I promise to do everything in my power to make us happy.” Listening to Ivar you wondered who was telling the truth Aslaug or Ivar but in the end only time will tell.