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skolworthy · 10 months ago

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Time Knows No Bounds - Part Five

Warnings: Finally, the sexual tension you have been waiting for! Some NSFW parts are present, so please read responsibly and don't get caught. ;)

Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.

Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.

Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.

Summary: This will be in Ragnar's POV again. -A rude interruption leads to your freedom from the utility closet, but will the opportunity to get this close ever present itself again? Time will only tell.

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

It seemed that there was destined to be an interruption at every time that he attempted to get closer to y/n. First the 'phone' that she had in her pocket back in the bedroom she had given him, chiming when the two of them had just started to lean into one another. Now to the door flying open when he had actually began to make contact with her lips. Those lips that had long been on his mind from the moment she first gave him a smirk back at him in return to his. Ragnar had been enthralled with y/n from the moment his eyes landed upon her after arriving to this time period, even more so than the advanced world around him. Y/n was by far the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen and her sassy personality and humor caused him to grow even more attracted to her as the hours flew by. What really drew him to her, was her sense of nobility: she was willing to do what she could to help him even though she had no real reason to. She could have left him there and been on her way and who knew what sort of trouble he would have found himself in. Ragnar was quite good at getting himself into trouble, and being here alone, he had no one to get him out of it. Yet y/n was adamant in helping him to fit in, and learn the way of things in this time, while also doing what she could to figure out just how he got there and how he could get back. Perhaps it was a good thing that they had been interrupted from their kiss? If he was to end up going home one day...would it not be better to avoid the temptation that y/n presented? Ragnar knew that it was silly to believe this, for they had just met, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he ended up falling madly in love with her.

The small balding man from earlier was standing there with raised eyebrows, though the two of you had pulled apart quickly when the door had opened. The look in the man's eye told them that he had still seen their close proximity and their flushed faces no doubt gave away what had been about to happen. Y/n began to explain the situation and the man just smiled and held up his hand. "No need for explanation, this is honestly the most tame thing I have come across when opening this door." he said, as his eyes cast elsewhere, a vacant and disturbed expression on his face. "I will have maintenance fix it tonight during their shift, mark my words. It's only a matter of time before I end up getting myself locked in here and I can tell you, no one would come looking for the boss." he said with a chuckle. Y/n gave a small smile and then glanced at Ragnar before she grabbed the broom and headed out, to which he followed after her, giving a nod of thanks to the man, even though he was not 100% thankful for the interruption. He followed her back to the exhibit where he watched y/n begin to sweep up the little bits of paper, pottery and other things that were scattered across the floor. He watched her silently for a moment before he began to open his mouth to say something, but she stopped him by handing him the broom. "I need to go and find the dust pan, can you finish up for me?" she asked with a small smile on her lips. How could he say no? He gave a nod of his head and then watched her walk away, his eyes slowly roaming down her body to her backside before he sighed and looked down at the bits that still needed to be swept into a pile.

When she came back they helped one another finish sweeping and dumping the dust pan into the trash before finally they were finished and the exhibit, hopefully, looked good as new. He watched as she went around one final time to each part of the exhibit and adjusted it slightly, before she finally gave a nod and came back over to him. "That's better." she said. Ragnar smirked at her and then set the broom down against the wall. "What is next?" Y/n smirked back at him and then said that they were free to do whatever for the day, since it was still technically her day off. "This is a whole new world for you, what would you like to do?" Ragnar's mind thought back to the moment in the closet, where he had y/n pressed up against the wall with his body, his lips so close to capturing hers as he had been longing for. Yeah, there was no denying that that was what he wanted to explore right now. Yet as he looked at y/n as she stood there smiling at him with a tilted head, the way that the sunlight from the skylights above danced across her hair and lit up her eyes some, he knew that there was something more he wanted. He gestured for them to head out of the museum and as they did, his eyes searching around him at the vast city and all of its massive structures of metal and brick and...noise. So. Much. Noise. Ragnar suddenly felt overwhelmed and he rubbed the back of his neck uneasily before he felt y/n place a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked down at her. He gave a smile and then slid his hands into the pockets of his pants...er...jeans, he believed she called them? "What is your most favorite place to go in the city?" he asked. "That is what I would like to see." he said, his smile forming into his trademark smirk.

This seemed to take y/n by surprise, her eyebrows lifting to the heaven's ever so slightly before coming back down and a smile played upon her lips. "Oh." she said before she pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Alright, but we will need to grab some provisions first." she said, which altogether confused him. Provisions for what? She lifted her finger and wagged it in motion for him to follow her, he did not hesitate. They soon found themselves back inside her home, where he watched as she went to the kitchen and began to rummage around in the refrigerator, setting things onto the counter before diving back in again. "What are you doing?" Ragnar asked as he finally began to make his way toward the kitchen. "Do me a favor and go grab that blanket that's on the back of the couch." She said while still halfway within the box. He paused, his eyes scanning the room until they caught sight of the large blanket that was draped over the dark blue three cushioned piece of furniture and he picked it up, folding it a bit. He brought it into the kitchen and stood there as she began to put together some sort of food, that contained meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato and placed between two slices of bread. Huh. Ragnar leaned forward some, looking over her shoulder as she cut them in half and placed the pieces into a container and closed the lid. Then she grabbed a bottle of something yellow and a jar of something white, to which she placed it within a large basket. She then grabbed some bottles of water and put them inside as well, along with plates that appeared to be made out of paper and some cutlery too and then she stood there thinking for a moment before she turned and looked at him. "I think that is all we will need." "For what?" "You'll see." He groaned, letting his head fall back a bit as he did and she chuckled, hoisting the basket to him for him to carry and he lifted his head back up, stared down at her silently before pursing his lips and taking the basket from her. "Fine."

Once again he found himself within one of those so called 'cars' and they were on their way to wherever y/n had planned on taking him. The trip did not take as long as he had thought it would, still, he was just as mesmerized by the surroundings they passed as he was the first time he had been in a 'car'. They came down a path that wound a little way, trees on either side in neat rows, flowers at full bloom within their thick foliage. Ragnar leaned closer to the window in hopes of seeing exactly where they were going until the car then came to a stop and he blinked, turning to look over at y/n as she began to open the door. "We will have to walk from here." she said with a smile, a dimple forming at the corner of her mouth that he had not noticed before but oh how he was enamored by it. He swatted her hand away from the basket when she reached for it as it sat between them, taking it in his own hand and gave her a smirk as he exited the car and walked around to where she stood waiting for him. He followed after her as they continued on to a smaller path that branched off from where the car had left them and he couldn't help but let his gaze wander from his surroundings, to roaming up and down y/n's body slowly as she walked ahead of him. From the way that her hair blew slightly in the breeze causing it to dance around her shoulders, to the way that her hips would sway as she walked. Ragnar's eyes couldn't keep from focusing on her backside longer than what was probably appropriate, but he just simply could not help himself. When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, his eyes quickly averted elsewhere before she could catch on, though when she looked back ahead, his eyes would trail right back and a smirk would form on his face.

They finally stepped off of the pathway that she had been leading them down and began a climb uphill until they reached the very top, where she then took the blanket from on top of the basket and threw it outward, allowing it to settle upon the grass. Then she lowered herself down to smooth it out, then she took the basket from his hand and set it off to the side of the blanket before standing back up. Ragnar had been about to sit down upon the blanket, thinking that was what she was aiming to do as well, but she had stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and gestured for him to look in a direction off ahead of them. He turned his gaze and she smiled at his reaction as his mouth parted ever so slightly at the sight of their view. Vast gardens and mazes lined the way below them, colorful blooms of almost every shade all intricately positioned within the maze and walkways. What truly caused Ragnar's mouth to part was the castle that was at the end of the mazes and gardens, perfectly placed like it had hopped off of the pages of a storybook. "Rosenborg Castle and gardens. One of my most favorite places." she said softly as she stood a little closer to him, tilting her head a bit as she looked up at him and then out toward the scenery. "With my love for history, this place never disappoints to fill my head with wonder." Y/n gave a soft sigh and Ragnar finally turned and looked down at her, a smile upon his face instead of his trademark smirk. "It is...quite amazing. There are not many castles back home." He lowered himself down to the blanket as she did, bringing his knees up and letting his arms drape over them lazily as he watched her begin to fish out the items from within her basket and set them out upon the blanket. "What do you call all of...this?" he said, gesturing before him at all of the food, plates, bottles of water and other things. Y/n smiled and opened the container and pulled out the bread with meat and cheese between it and set it upon a plate, handing it to him. "A picnic. That's a sandwich." she added, when he opened his mouth and pointed at the unfamiliar food item before him. His eyes lifted to hers for a moment, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly in question and he began to open his mouth once more. "No, not that kind of witch." Again, beating him to the punch.

Ragnar eyed the sandwich with suspicion at first, then watched as y/n pulled out the jar of white stuff and the bottle of yellow and pointed them to the sandwich. "Lift the bread up and I will add some of both. Mustard. Mayonnaise." she said, holding up each of the items as she named them and he just stared at them before finally doing as she said. "Something the vikings didn't get to experience. A world of flavorful food." she said, clicking her tongue in sadness. When she was finished applying the mustard and mayonnaise, Ragnar let the bread fall back down and then brought the sandwich up to his mouth and bit into it. The moment everything hit his tongue, he paused and his eyes drifted to the basket that sat behind y/n. "Is...there more in there?" he asked, after having swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. Y/n chuckled and nodded, stating she had packed several sandwiches. She then pulled out a small and rather noisy bag and he watched as she opened it, leaning forward and looking into the back as she then pulled out a flat piece of..something, and then popped it in her mouth and he could hear the sound of her crunching it. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to crunch on that piece, from what he had seen it did not look at all hard, but yet the sound was quite...loud. He smirked and then she allowed him to grab one from the bag as well and when he placed it within his mouth, he was blown away from the flavor and when he bit down on it, it would have startled him with how crunchy it was, had he not already known from overhearing y/n earlier. "What is this thing?" he asked, still crunching which made her laugh out loud. "It's called a potato chip and there are so many flavors out there." This intrigued him greatly, the fact that this delicious and crunchy form of heaven was made out of a potato and he then asked y/n exactly how they were made and what these other flavors would be. The fact that the list of flavors went on, and he literally had no idea what more than half of them were, blew his mind though she did promise to help him form a quest to try every flavor possible.

Eventually all of the food was gone and now the two of them were left with just sitting upon the quilt she had brought and watching the shadows grow longer as the day grew ever onward. Y/n told Ragnar the history of the castle that was before them as they sat upon the hill and watched people come and go across the grounds before them. How they would venture inside of it and y/n explained how it was open to the public, everyone able to tour the palace and all of its wonders. This intrigued Ragnar greatly, especially the fact that people could just waltz into the castle like that and this caused y/n to laugh. "Well, there are not that many monarchies still around anymore and even then, their power is nothing like it once was. The average person has more power these days than royalty, honestly. Governments were created, people can vote and choose how they want things to be. It's a very different world now." she said as she leaned back on her hands, her legs stretched out before her as she looked at the castle while the sun cast down upon it in a way that made it almost look like it was glowing. Ragnar glanced over at her, not being able to help himself from doing so, his own hands holding him upright as he leaned back upon them as well. He took in just how she was looking at the castle and the grounds that lay out before them, how her eyes showed just how much she admired the history that she knew, the architecture that the castle boasted even after the centuries that it had been standing there. His chest swelled a little as he gazed at her, the way the light would dance across her face as sun hit against the surface of the small lake that was in front of the castle. He finally cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. "Why are you helping me?" he asked finally after a few minutes of silence.

Y/n was silent for awhile after that question, but as he watched, he could see her face showing signs of deep thought. "Because there is a reason behind all of this happening: you suddenly coming into the future and us meeting." she paused for a moment and then looked over at him. "I want to know what that reason is." Their eyes locked for a moment, Ragnar's heart suddenly skipping at beat just from that and then y/n smirked at him. "Plus, you seem like a trouble maker. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you." At this point, Ragnar could not help himself. He leaned toward her, his left hand reaching up and placing itself against the back of her neck gently and with it he brought her toward him. The soft gasp she gave in response silencing as his mouth captured it, his lips softly pressing against hers at first before they began to guide hers in a subtly sensual dance. He could feel her hesitation in the beginning, from the way her body went stiff but after a few moments he felt her relax, give in and she began to move her lips against his as well. The sensation of her lips moving against his caused that low burning heat he had within his lower stomach to engulf into a raging inferno, escalating as her hand made its' way to the side of his face and cupped it for a moment before moving behind his head, to the back of his neck, her fingers digging slightly into the base of his hairline. Ragnar continued the kiss, slowly deepening it as he then moved his body closer to hers and began to maneuver her downward toward the blanket they were seated upon, his hand cradling her neck to guide the way. He moved so that way he was somewhat on top of her, his lips dancing against hers until they began to venture along her jawline and behind her ear, his mind and body reeling from the soft sounds of agreement that came from her mouth as he did.

The hand that he had been using to keep himself from putting all of his weight upon her, slid around her waist and then began to travel toward one of her breasts when suddenly he felt her hand catch hold of his wrist, stopping his movement. Ragnar paused and then slowly pulled his face away slightly, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. "We should stop before someone sees." she said, which caused him to lift his had further and scan the area with his eyes before looking back down at her. "No one is watching." he said with a smirk, starting to lean back down toward her mouth, but she put a hand against his chest, once again stopping him. Y/n gave a soft chuckle and began to sit up, pushing him upward as well with the hand that was upon his chest. "I'm sure where you are from, people just fuck in the middle of the village and no one spares a passing glance, but here it is quite different. We don't need to end up in jail." Now sitting up, she began to pack up the items around her and put them into the basket. "Perhaps it's time to head back home?" she said, her eyes lifting to meet his. Ragnar quickly stood up and began to carefully roll up the blanket as she gave a soft laugh and moved from on top of it so that he could place it into the basket as well. Soon a taxi was hailed and the two of them were riding along in silence that was so thick that the tension could be cut with a knife. Glances were stolen. Lips were chewed upon slightly. Ragnar's knee was bouncing uncontrollably as he let hand rest there, fingers gripping into his flesh, his mind imagining that his hand was kneading one of those impressive mounds she had for breasts. Could this taxi possibly move any slower?

Finally back at y/n's apartment, they worked together to put away any left overs and other items before y/n stated that she was going to take a shower and Ragnar gave a nod, figuring that he would just lie down upon his bed since he still did not really understand how to work the 'TV'. He followed after her down the hallway and as he did, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her as she was before him. The way her back curved, down to that luscious backside...the feelings from earlier began to swell back up within him with a vengeance. Ragnar's pace quickened by a few steps and he then took hold of y/n's waist and turned her toward him suddenly. He moved her against the wall, pushing her up against it as he leaned down and claimed her lips with his once again. Any gasps or noise she may have made in reaction to this sudden movement was swallowed down by Ragnar as he pressed himself against her, his hands sliding down her sides and squeezing lightly. Y/n gave a soft moan against his mouth and this caused him to give a bit of a growl as he then moved his lips to her neck, one of his hands sliding down to cup against her bottom and giving it a hardy squeeze. Ragnar felt her fingers curl a bit into his hair and grip hard, which made him suddenly move his hand from her bottom down to that thigh and he lifted her leg up and wrapped it around his hip as he pressed his growing excitement against her. When he felt her grind against him slightly, Ragnar all but lost control and began to bite and suck against the skin of her collarbone as he used his other hand to move up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts, giving it a firm squeeze after. Y/n's hand took hold of his braid and pulled his head back up to where she began to kiss him fervently, her tongue even darting across his bottom lip. Ragnar groaned, pressing himself more against her as his body pinned her against the wall, giving his hips a roll while holding there and then grinning against her mouth when she let out an involuntary moan. He then removed his hand from under her shirt and slid it behind her to where he cupped her other thigh and brought it up around his hip as well. He held her like that for a moment against the wall, devouring her lips, biting and sucking against that bottom lip of hers until he then moved away from the wall, carrying her down the hallway and through the doorway of his room.

Their lips never parted as he carried her, not even as he came over to the bed and lowered her down onto it, moving to hover over her. Ragnar took the time to lift her shirt up and over her head, letting his eyes roam over her flawless skin, his eyes hesitating on the odd looking bodice that was clasped around her perfect breasts (he made a mental note to ask about this later). He then began to kiss down the side of her neck, letting his lips dance across her collarbone once more before he moved them further down until he came to the tops of her breasts. He placed light kisses there at first...then he began to lick, moving the piece of fabric that kept her sensitive bud hidden from him. Once it was revealed, he took it into his mouth gently and sucked on it lightly, his eyes lifting toward y/n's face as she gasped. Her back arched upward from the bed and he let one of his arms wrap around her waist to keep her in that position as he then let his other hand begin to slide down the front of her pants, now that there was room with the angle she was in. Ragnar moaned against her skin as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucking and gently biting down as his fingers descended toward his objective. His index finger had just brushed against her ready clit when the sound of numerous chimes echoed around them. He paused, lifting his eyes toward her as she gave a groan. "Someone's at the door." she said, breathless. He felt her body begin to tense with the movement of trying to sit herself up, but he held her down with his palm against her pelvic bone and his mouth quickly moving to the other breast as his hand moved away the fabric from that nipple as well. She gasped, arching upward again and gave quick and eager attention to this breast for a moment before lifting his face up some and looking at her. "They can come back another day." he said with smirk, before he began to move his fingers back to her clit...when the chiming began again, this time more frequently. Ragnar gave a loud groan and let his forehead rest against her chest for a moment, before he felt her hand gently begin to push against his chest and he reluctantly rolled off of her and onto his back upon the bed, staring at the ceiling with annoyance.

Y/n gave him an apologetic look before she slipped her shirt back on over her head and adjusted her hair before heading out into the hallway and toward the front door. Ragnar waited for a moment, allowing certain body parts to adjust to the unwelcome interruption, before he pushed himself off of the bed and headed to the living room. He stopped in the doorway of the hall when he found y/n standing by the front door, now closed, with a young man standing beside her. The man cast him a look with a raised eyebrow, to which Ragnar did not hesitate to give back until his eyes moved to y/n as she spoke. "Ragnar, this is my older brother, Kyle."

Gif Credit: @captainalicen

Tag List: @cullenswife @hypocritic-trash-baby @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huskyhunnyny @wolfy1712 @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @mssbridgerton @menari @kcd15

(If I have forgotten anyone in the tag list, please let me know and I will fix it! <3 )

#ragnar lothbrok #vikings #ragnar lothbrok x reader #travis fimmel #ragnar imagine #ragnar lothbrok fanfiction #ragnar x reader #vikings fanfiction #ragnar fanfic #vikings imagine

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imagines-for-everybody-blog · 1 year ago

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Vikings imagine (Ragnar)

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut

You went in the lake to go for a swim. Of course you were naked.

„What are you doing there?“, you heard your husband Ragnar. But he wasn’t talking to you. Just now you realised that Athelstan was watching you from the distance.

You pretented not so see or hear them.

„Nothing.“, Athelston replied but clearly he was lying.

Ragnar sighed „We offered you to join us just a few days ago, but you rejected it. Now you don’t deserve this view.“

It turned you on, knowing that those two were watching you. You started to rub your clit because you were getting horny.

You turned around while pinching your nipple.

Ragnar took his clothes off within seconds and walked towards you, followed by Athelstan who was still dressed.

Your husband reached you and said „Is that what you’re doing when I’m gone?“

You nodded and grinned cheekily.

„Do you think of me, while doing it to yourself?“, he asked while kissing your neck.

„Sometimes.“, you teased him. He slapped your bum.

„I always think of you.“, you said and kissed him.

„Athelstan, you stay here and watch us. As a lesson.“, he said.

It’s been a few months since you had slow sex or even did a foreplay. When he came home after been gone for months, you couldn’t wait and had rough sex.

Ragnar sucked your nipple and made sure Athelstan was watching. You wrapped your legs around Ragnar’s waist and felt his hard dick.

You moaned and rubbed your clit against his dick. He couldn’t resist anymore and started fucking you.

You both came together. Afterwards you went home and cuddled. Athelstan stayed in the water and asked himself, if it was a mistake rejecting the offer.

Maybe a Part 2? 🤔

#imagine #vikings #ragnar imagine #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar lodbrok #athelstan #netflix #netflix series #vikings x reader #ragnar #vikings tv show #Vikings imagine

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lostgirlfandom · 2 years ago

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Vikings Masterlist

Old Masterlist

Ragnar

Lagertha

Floki

Ivar

Hvitserk

Food for a Viking

Halfdan

Harald Finehair

Bjorn Ironside

Athelstan

Ubbe

Poly!

#vikings imagine #vikings masterlist #vikings one shot #ragnar imagine #ivar imagine #hvitserk imagine #lagertha imagine #floki imagine #halfdan imagine #harald finehair imagine #bjorn ironside imagine #athelstan imagine #ubbe imagine #vikings fanfiction

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

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Coming Back || Björn Ironside x Oc

gifs by: unknown & @gifshistorical

Summary: Bjorn returns back to Wessex just in time for the birth of his first child with Evangeline. After being forced into marriage, it is the first time they see each other after the wedding.

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Kingdom of Wessex

“Move it!” Björn yells as he moves past servants and guards rushing around the place. Ragnar follows, amused at his son’s mood. They had just set foot back in Wessex after news came that Evangeline was expected to give birth very soon. Of course shocked, Björn wanted to be by his wife’s side when his first child is born.

The married couple had not seen each other in many months as he left right after their consummating ceremony. Although their marriage was only a political matter, Björn still cared about her.

“Ah, my son-in-law! How are you Björn?” King Ebert opens his arms wide. Björn awkwardly looks to his father before hesitating and moving closer to the King who pulls him in for a hug and a pat on the back.

“My dear Evangeline has missed your presence, but rest assured, her pregnancy has been very smooth. I pray to the God above that she delivers the child safely without much pain.” He does the sign of the cross as Björn slowly nods. “And where is she? The soon to be mother of my child?” His deep voice questions the King.

King Ecbert beckons a servant, “Take them to the birthing room,” And with that, Björn quickly follows the servant, Ragnar following suit but not before giving a look to the King.

The two walk into a hallway where they could already hear Evangeline’s cries of pain. Björn stiffened at the sound of her screams, it was his first time becoming a father so he did not know what to expect. Ragnar takes ahold of his son’s upper arm making him stop. “When you go in there, she is obviously in a lot of pain. Take her hand, comfort her. And pray to Freyja.” He says lowly to Björn who just nods before exhaling from his nose.

The servant waited in front of the door. Björn nodded and the door opened revealing his wife pacing slowly around the room. Her hands on her back as she breathed heavily. Her hair was sticking to her shiny face and her white gown slightly covered with blood. Evangeline had not yet noticed his presence in the room.

Another cry left her mouth as she threw her head back, massaging her stomach as servants press a cloth to her sweaty forehead. Ragnar stayed leaned up by the door, his eyes scanning around the room. “Evangeline…” Björn called out making the princess turn her head to his direction.

In a matter of seconds, she stormed up to him, hitting his chest a few times. “Where have you been! I have been waiting for you-“ She stopped mid sentence as she winced and leaned her head against his firm chest. “Because of you, I seem to be fighting against a demon inside my stomach!” She fumed before she turned back around and continued pacing.

Björn watched his wife in shock as she kept yelling “get out, get out, get out” over and over. He looks behind his shoulder to his father for help but Ragnar only chuckles. “Sounds like a typical Viking baby” He shrugs as Björn walks to Evangeline. He takes her shoulders, “I think you should this to the bed, yes?” He says to her with his slight accent.

“I think that is a great idea, my Prince. Let’s go lay down in the bed shall we?” An older handmaiden gently takes Evangeline’s hands and move her to the bed. Now that he was married to the Princess of Wessex, he was technically considered Prince. It sure was still new to Björn.

Evangeline laid down on the bed with her husband trailing behind, his hand on her lower back. Björn takes ahold of her hand, just like what his father told her to do, placing a kiss on her knuckles before silently praying to Freyja.

“Princess, you need to start pushing!” Evangeline screams in pain but nonetheless pushes. “What are you doing?” She says in between her yells of pain. “Praying to the Goddess Freyja, so that you safely deliver our son or daughter” Björn says as he looks her in the eyes.

She doesn’t say anything but continues to push, tears streaming down her face from the pain she was experiencing. “This baby is going to be the death of me!” She screams before she gives one final push, her hand squeezing hard with Björn’s but he did not mind.

For the first time that afternoon, the villa fell silent until the noise of a baby crying broke it . Evangeline fell back on the bed, exhausted with her eyes closed. Björn stares amazed at the newborn, his child, a daughter. The handmaiden wraps the baby in cloth before taking her to the exhausted mother.

“Look, isn’t our daughter beautiful?” Björn softly whispers in Evangeline’s ear as she slowly opens her eyes, her daughter resting on her chest as tears of joy flow down her face. Björn couldn’t stop smiling at the little human being he helped create.

“She’s beautiful,” Evangeline whispers, looking down at the baby. “What should we name her?” The Princess looks at Björn with searching eyes as he takes a moment to think before looking to his father.

“I think we should name her Ingrid. It means beautiful goddess, because I know our daughter already is one,” He smiles down at the baby, her tiny hand wrapping themselves around Björn’s finger. Evangeline’s eyes move to Björn as everyone in the room exchanges looks.

No doubt were they questioning the name of the Princess’ child as it was old norse originated. “Ingrid. Princess Ingrid. I like that name,” Evangeline says softly as Björn smiles at her and kisses her cheek.

“Where is my granddaughter!” King Ecbert rushes in and stops to see the sight infront of him. His eyes immediately soften before coming to his daughter’s side, Evangeline notices his older brother Aethulwulf standing by the door awkwardly. Evangeline carefully gives her father Ingrid as the King admires his granddaughter silently.

The young Princess beckons her older brother who takes a hesitant step forward. He moves past his father and engulfs the younger in a hug. “How are you dear sister?” He rubs her back as Evangeline lets out a breath. “I’m fine. Though rest and sleep is all I can think about right now,” She chuckles as the others around do the same.

King Ecbert than passes Ingrid to her uncle. Evangeline watch as the two fuss over her daughter as she rests her head on Björn’s chest. “Thank you for being here,” She looks up to him with a gentle smile. He says nothing but moves her closer to him and places a kiss on her forehead.

The door opened and revealed Lagertha and Ragnar. The famous Shield-maiden immediately moves to the bed where the couple laid. She engulfed Björn in a tight hug before giving Evangeline one aswell. Lagertha moves to the other side and Aethulwolf passes Ingrid to her.

“Oh she’s beautiful,” Lagertha softly says, looking at Evangeline and Björn. “What is her name?” She questions as she brushes Ingrid’s cheek. “Ingrid.” Evangeline answers with a proud smile. “Ingrid.” Ragnar nods, moving behind Lagertha to look down at the baby in her arms.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” Ragnar acknowledges with a smile and winks at the young Princess.

#bjorn ironside x reader #bjorn imagine #vikings bjorn #bjorn ironside #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #ragnar lothbrok #lagertha #king ecbert #aethulwolf #Evangeline Princess of Wessex #bjorn lothbrok #dad!bjornironside

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ubbesbabymama · 2 years ago

Text

Their friend is pregnant, pt. 2.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk The Berserker, Sigurd Snake in The Eye, Ivar The Boneless.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant. [I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader].

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships, smut/mention of sex.

↳ Note. A second part so I could write the ones that are left because is just so much fun to write this plot.

Part one.

Hvitserk The Berserker.

He adores you, he genuinely thinks you’re the only perfect person on earth and he would do anything to protect you from anybody, even himself.

He is busy between a thrall’s legs, making everything in his power to make her scream his name, thrusting like a madman when he hears his name being called and he stops right away. That’s not the thrall’s voice.

“Hvitserk,” You sob and he can’t help but to pull out and push the woman, running to you while fixing his pants.

“Come here, come here,” He mumbles, taking you in his arms and walking to another room that doesn’t smell like sex.

He sits on the floor in front of a bonfire with you on his lap, and you move around till your legs are around him just like he is around you. You move again and he grunts.

“D-Don’t move too much,” He whispers.

“O-Oh! I’m sorry, forgive—,” You try to move but he grips your thighs. “Hvitserk.”

“Forget everything else and tell me why are you crying,” He says. “Talk to me.”

“Why do I have to talk to you while your cock is poking into my backside?” You ask him and he grunts again, this time because of your stubbornness.

“That is because I got interrupted while I was getting it down, now, talk to me or I am going to take my axe and go look for the information myself.” He threatens.

You sigh and clean your face a little before looking at him.

“I am with child.”

“That’s not true,” He chuckles and panics when your eyes start to fill with tears, and he takes your face in his hands. “Wait— no, no, no sweat heart.”

“Y-You don’t believe me either,” You sob in his hands and he shakes his head.

“I thought it was another one of your pranks, I apologize little one,” You nod, sobbing. He frowns. “Either?”

“He kicked me out of the house… literally,” You whisper, rolling your dress to show him your scratched knees, you show him your hands and they’re scratched too. “He said I cheated on him, that a whore like me could find a man to breed me really fast just so I could trap—,”

You stop talking when Hvitserk moves you around, standing up and taking you with him. He puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the room and back to his room. In silence he takes off your dirty dress and tosses it to the side, he looks around for a moment and comes back with a shirt of him, he helps you put it on.

“I’m going to be right back, get under the covers,” He quietly says, you shake your head, and he sighs. “Under the covers, please.”

“You’re going to kill him.” You whisper.

“Of course, I’m going to kill him, for starters, I gave you that house, he has no right to kick you out, and second, while you’re with child?” He snorts with malice.

“Hvitserk,” He looks at you and holds your stare to let you know that he is not backing down. You nod to yourself and kiss his cheek. “I’ll wait for you awake.”

You know he is back when some thralls enter the room with the tub, he enters right behind them and you gasp, he is bathed in blood, from the hair to his boots.

“What in Odin’s green earth did you do to him?!” You ask alarmed, he shrugs and starts to take his clothes off in front of you and the thralls. “Hvitserk!”

“I tied him to a tree and started beating him,” He looks up slowly, his eyes cold. “I beat him till his last breath.”

“You’re insane,” You whisper, getting out of bed when he gets inside the tub. You start to undo his braids.

“For you, I can be worse than Ivar, you know this already.” He chants, not a single trace of regret on his face.

“Yeah well, you killed the abusive father of my child,” You roll your eyes. “So it’s safe to say that you’re now a father.”

He smirks.

“Great.”

Sigurd Snake In The Eye.

Everybody could see how much you mean to him, it was as obvious as the fact that the sun would shine every day. When it comes to you he knows no reason or shame, going as far as to beg if he needs to.

“I-I can’t find her,” He murmurs when all his brothers are gathered to hunt.

“Who?” Ubbe asks.

“What do you mean you can’t find her? It’s almost as if you live together,” Hvitserk jokes.

“I think her husband has something to do with her suddenly disappearing.” He swallows and just now everybody feels the tension in the air. “I-I need help, please.”

Suddenly Ivar starts crawling away and everybody looks at him, he stops and looks back directly at Sigurd.

“What are you doing there? We have to find her.” He grunts and in no time Sigurd is by his side.

That’s how much you mean to Sigurd, so much that even his younger brother whom he always argues about anything not dare to joke around.

And he finds you, in a small cabin deep in the woods, thanks to Hvitserk’s insight in the town he founds that your husband owns this cabin for when he goes hunting alone.

He enters the cabin and sucks a breath when he sees you in a corner hugging your legs. He takes one step and your husband comes out and pulls you by the hair, you yelp.

“If you get close I will kill them both!” He screams and Sigurd frown.

“Who’s them?” He whispers to himself, and you sob.

“You didn’t tell him? You’re carrying his child and you didn’t—,”

“Because it’s not his!” You cry, looking at Sigurd and his stare makes you stop trembling a little. You’re safe, Sigurd is here.

Suddenly an arrow enters from behind Sigurd, right on top of his head, and embedded right onto your husband’s head, him being so tall makes it easy for the archer to shoot without fearing it would hit you.

Sigurd looks behind him and nods to Ubbe, who just nods back and starts walking back with his brother, leaving him with you.

He opens his arms and watches how you run and jump on him, his arms sliding around you, one on your thigh and the other on your waist.

“I’m here now, shh…” He comforts you while walking till he leans on a wall. “Nobody can’t hurt you anymore.”

You sob on his neck and he hums.

“I’m tired,” You murmur and he nods.

He takes you back to the town and directly into his room and orders the thralls to prepare a bath for you. When everything’s ready he undresses you and lets you get inside the tub, he’s about to start looking for clothes for you but your grip on his hand stops him.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m getting in with you,” He says to calm you down and when he sees you expectant he undresses and gets inside too, behind you.

He starts to caress your belly, he supposed you haven’t seen your monthly blood and that’s why you know you’re with child since it’s not clear in your belly.

“You’re going to start living here,” He whispers in your ear. “So I can take care of you better.”

“You have obligations,” You whisper.

“And you’re the main one,” He hums. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Ivar The Boneless.

Nobody understands how you can stand Ivar, with the man being borderline obsessed with you. The only reason why you can lay with men is that he is certain that he can’t satisfy a woman and he would rather be burned alive than disappoint you from all people, but other than that, he lets no man get close to you unless you directly tell him that you chose that man to warm your chambers, he has bodyguards for you, thralls for you, he gives you a quarter of everything he owns or gets. Even when he goes raiding everybody knows that a lot of the goods are yours and yours only. That’s how obsessed Ivar The Boneless is with you.

Of course, it’s almost impossible to hide things from him, more so with the people in town being so eager to bring him information about you just to be favored, so as soon as you’re being yelled at and tossed around by the Viking Ivar is notified.

“You think after three times you can already be with child?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” The man was yelling at you, but you weren’t backing down. No sir.

“After ONE time of laying together, I can already be with child, or do you think your seed is so weak you need more than once? even more than three? Poor you.” You mock and gasp when he pushes you, making you fall onto your backside, you whimper at the burn in your hands for breaking the fall.

“I should just kill you and that bastard right now!” He yells, and you spit on your side in response.

“Who?” You freeze, feeling chills run down your spine. That voice only means problems, and a lot of them. “Who are you going to kill? My woman?”

You feel him right beside you, leaning on his crutch. He looks down at you and nods and you nod back, slowly standing up.

“L-Lord I-Ivar,” The man stuttered.

“So? You’re going to kill my woman, you say?” Ivar says, his tone friendly but his eyes, oh those eyes.

“N-no, no my lord,” The man keeps stuttering. “It’s this woman who says she’s carrying my child.”

Ivar face snaps to the side, looking at you while anger starts to bubble in his system, a burning feeling in his chest, he squints his eyes at you and silently you start to pray to the gods for the life of the man.

“When I was hunting and you were keeping me company, that was your last month bleeding, right?” Ivar says and he’s not actually asking, he knows that information, for he’s the one you always go to when you’re in pain, but you nod anyways. “And he pushed you while you’re carrying a child?”

You nod again.

“Yes, Ivar.” The man grimaces when he hears you call Ivar by his name and without honorifics, why nobody told him he was laying with someone so important? “He did.”

Ivar’s face slowly turns to the man, and he grins.

“Now I have to decide whether you die—,”

“Ivar can I—,” You start but are interrupted.

“NO!” He snaps, pointing at you with his finger. “You do not get to save him from this, you do not get a saying this time!”

“Ivar,” Your own anger makes you grind your teeth. “Can I go home? My feet are hurting and I need to get a healer for my hands.”

He blinks and looks down at your bloody hands from the fall before, he sighs, feeling bad at the way he talked to you when you weren’t even trying to help the man.

“I’ll finish this quickly,” Ivar says and in the blink of an eye, the man is being dragged by Ivar’s men while crying and babbling apologies.

You don’t let Ivar say anything more and start walking home and when you get there you ask for a healer and after being done with your hands and a quick checkup on your overall health you ask for a hot bath.

“It’s ready, my lady,” The thrall says just in time for Ivar’s entrance, she gasps and starts to tremble.

“You can go now, don’t come back again, you may take the tub out tomorrow,” You whisper tiredly.

Ivar is covered in blood and even you get a chill run down your spine. It looks grotesque, never has he had so much blood on him from just one person, he looks demonic even.

“I’m—,” He starts but you lift your hand.

“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” You murmur, starting to get undressed.

He looks at you with attention, watching you moan when the hot water gets in contact with your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He finishes what he was saying earlier and you roll your eyes.

“I’m with child, I got pushed by the father of the child and then he got killed by you and I imagine it was in the most animalistic way you could think of,” You tell him coldly. “I’m tired, I didn’t need you snapping at me when I was the one being mistreated, you may go now if that’s going to happen again.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he says, he looks emotionless, his voice too. But you know that those words coming out of Ivar’s mouth is already a blessing.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving.” He says, crawling more closer.

“You look scary.”

“I’ll get clean after you tell me how are you,” He whispers and you sigh.

“What am I going to do now?” You whisper to him, getting close to him.

“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything,” He whispers. “Just let me take care of you. Both of you.”

“You already do that,” You smile.

He smiles and leans, giving you a soft kiss although you could tell it doesn’t mean anything more.

“Yes I do, until the gods call me to Valhalla.”

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings smut #hvitserk ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #sigurd #sigurd snake in the eye #hvitserk x you #hvitserk x reader #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader

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lexyleblancc · 2 years ago

Text

Something nicer {Sihtric}

Summary: Sihtric takes care of his family during the night of a storm.

Dad!Sihtric x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nothing, unless you fear children and a simp of a man :)

Word count: 699 haha nice

Disclaimer: Not proof read, we die like men here. Also have decided to make this a little series of the TLK men being dads because it warms my heart

There had been rumors of a storm hitting, and Sihtric couldn’t be more happy that he had made it home before it hit. The nights had been getting colder, almost unbearably cold. Furs were piled high on all the beds at night, roaring fires hit in hearths to keep the chill at bay. You were curled into Sihtric’s side, your nose cold and red from being the only part of you visible under the mountain of furs you curled under. The man sucked in a breath as your cold nose made contact with his neck, making him shiver. The door to the bedroom creaked open, making the restless man look up, seeing the small figure of your youngest child standing there, holding a small stuffed bear tightly in her arms.

“Da, it’s so cold.” The little girl cried quietly. Sihtric sighed, sitting up and letting the furs pool around his waist, the cold air hitting his skin.

“It is.” Sihtric agreed, motioning for his youngest to climb onto the bed. “Lay with your mom, keep her nice and warm and I’ll go get the fires going again, okay?” He cooed softly, tugging the furs over the young girl and kissing her forehead. In your sleep you reached out for your daughter, pulling her closer to you and letting out a soft hum. Both Sihtric and your daughter let out small laughs, before the man stood from the bed and found the closest tunic he could reach.

The wooden floors were half frozen, sending shocks through him as he quickly rushed to the living room to stoke the fire before heading down the hallway to the children’s room to stoke that one as well. Sihtric almost cursed the day you insisted on giving your children the larger room with a fireplace in it, but they would always come first. He just prayed to the Gods you would be able to move houses soon, somewhere that was much larger and had a fireplace in every room to keep the family warm.

Your two oldest children were curled together in one bed, shivering under the furs while the man worked quickly to warm them. The middle child, your only son, had abandoned his bed at some point in the night to help keep his older sister warm during the night. Once the fire was roaring once more, Sihtric grabbed some of the extra furs from a chest beside the door and covered the children, kissing both their foreheads before leaving the room quietly.

When he was finally back in his and (Y/N)’s room, he smiled fondly seeing his wife and youngest child sleeping soundly in each other's arms. He slowly slid back under the covers, reaching over your daughter who laid contently between you two, and pulled the both of you closer to his shivering form.

“Where did you go?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep as your eyes opened slowly to look at your husband.

“Just fed the fires.” He told you softly, pushing some of your hair away from your face as he smiled widely. “Gave the children some extra furs to keep them warm until morning.”

“We need more fireplaces to keep this place warm.” You joked quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The walls would tend to let in drafts during the colder months, taking all the heat away when the family so desperately needed it.

“Or a nicer home.” Sihtric mumbled, his eyes growing heavy with the sleep that so desperately called for him. “I will talk to Uhtred in the morning, see if there is something we can do about the cursed cracks in the walls until then.” He promised, placing a tender kiss on your lips before leaning down and kissing your daughter's head. “Just rest darling, the warmth will flow through the house soon.”

“I’m not the one shivering.” You hummed, placing a warm hand on your husband's arm. He smiled softly, holding you and your daughter tightly as the both of you fell asleep once more.

He would always wake up at night, to stoke the fires that warmed your family, just until he could provide something nicer.

#Sihtric #sihtric x reader #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom imagine #osferth #osferth x reader #Uhtred #uhtred x reader #ragnar x reader #young ragnar #erik x reader #erik thurgilson #finan #finan the agile #finan x reader

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eu-nicola · 13 days ago

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first love

summary: you always hated Ragnar until you realized that that hatred was not hatred but love

warnings: age-gap, infidelity, pregnancy

word counter: 9363

author's note: english is not my first language, inspired by something old that I also wrote

You had known Ragnar Lothbrok for as long as you could remember, and you had always known that his place in your life was not that of a stranger. He had been a part of your world even before you came into it.

Your father always spoke of Ragnar as if he were a son. When you were younger, you sat on your father’s knee as he told stories of Ragnar’s bravery and cunning, of how, as a mere boy, he had shown intelligence that few men possessed. You listened, but those words never filled you with pride. It wasn’t admiration you felt for him. It was jealousy. Jealousy of how your parents looked at him, jealousy of how your father laughed with him, a truer sound than the one you managed to coax out of him.

Ragnar wasn’t just bigger than you in age; he was bigger in every other way. He had always been that way. In your family’s eyes, he was more than an older brother. He was the perfect son they had never had before you.

You clearly remember the first time you realized how deep your connection to your father was. You were about six years old, running through the field near your house, chasing butterflies as your bare feet sank into the damp grass. When you came home, sweaty and leafy, you saw him there at the table next to your father. Your heads leaned forward, talking quietly as if they shared a secret that would never include you. Your small hands balled into fists, and you stood in the doorway, feeling like a stranger in your own home.

“What are you doing standing there?” he had asked you, with an easy smile that lit up everyone’s eyes but your own.

“I don’t like the way you talk to my father,” you told him with childlike sincerity that knew no filters.

He laughed, a sound he had always hated because it was loud, as if the entire world could hear how much he enjoyed life. "And why not, little one? Is it yours and not mine?"

Your father laughed too, but you didn't. You looked down and crossed your arms, muttering something that even you didn't quite understand. At that moment, Ragnar had looked at you like someone would look at a child who barely understands the world, and that only increased your childish rage.

Over time, things didn't improve. Ragnar grew into a strong, cunning, and charismatic man. His exploits began to resonate beyond the borders of your small world, and while others celebrated him, you still felt overshadowed by his presence.

Sometimes, you tried to reason with yourself. It wasn't Ragnar's fault that your father adored him so much. It wasn't his fault that others looked at him with admiration. But those thoughts didn't ease the weight in your chest every time his name came up in family conversations, as if everything revolved around him.

There were days when you wished he would go away. That his ship would not return from the sea, that his laughter would stop filling the rooms, that his stories would become a thing of the past. And yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t deny that you were watching him intently. Like a wolf on the prowl, you memorized his every gesture, every word he said.

One day, when you were ten, things reached their breaking point. Ragnar had returned from a long journey, and your father threw a banquet in his honor. The entire village gathered at your house, singing, drinking, and celebrating his return. You were at the back, in the darkest corner of the hall, watching as Ragnar moved through the crowd with the ease of someone who knew he belonged.

When you finally crossed paths with him, he gave you an amused look. “Why are you always so serious when you see me?”

“I’m not serious. I just don’t like you,” you blurted out without thinking.

He laughed, but it wasn’t as loud this time. There was something else in his expression, something you hadn’t seen before: curiosity. “Do you not like me because I’ve always been here, or because you think I don’t pay attention to you?”

The question left you silent, because you didn’t know how to respond. Ragnar always found a way to disarm you, even when you didn’t want to admit it.

“Maybe it’s not you who hates me,” he finally said, leaning in to look you in the eyes. “Maybe it’s you who doesn’t want to share your place in this world with me.”

Those words stuck in your mind, though at the time you didn’t know what to do with them. Because, as much as you hated to admit it, maybe he was right.

Over the years, you left behind the childish games and tantrums, but Ragnar remained a constant in your life. You no longer openly hated him, but you didn't seek him out either. You avoided him, always hiding behind the responsibilities of the house or the social gatherings that you so detested. But even from a distance, you felt his presence like a shadow that stretched over you, a force that you couldn't ignore.

It was around your thirteenth birthday that you began to understand something that you didn't want to accept. Ragnar had returned from another of his trips, this time with the triumphant air of a man who had achieved something great. His face was covered in dust and sun, his eyes shining with that fire that seemed to ignite everyone around him. He entered your home as if he owned the place, with that laugh of his that always managed to put everyone in a good mood. Everyone except you, or at least that's what you forced yourself to believe.

You watched him from the table, hidden behind a curtain of your hair, while he spoke to your father. Ragnar had this ability to capture everyone’s attention, as if words were something created just for him. He was charismatic, strong, and self-assured, and for the first time you noticed something that left you frozen: you didn’t look at him the way you look at a brother.

The thought hit you like a bolt of lightning. All that time, all that anger you’d felt towards him, all the arguments and resentment, it hadn’t been because you wanted him to go away. You hadn’t hated Ragnar because he was your father’s favorite, or because he made you feel small next to him. You’d hated him because you liked him.

The realization stunned you. You’d heard other girls in the village talk about what it was like to be attracted to a man, about how their hearts beat faster and their stomachs filled with nerves when they were around someone they liked. You’d always thought those things were ridiculous, that love was something you didn’t need or want. But now, you felt that same uneasiness in your chest whenever Ragnar was around.

That night, you couldn't sleep. Images of him filled your mind: his laugh, the way his hair fell across his forehead, how his gaze seemed to pierce you every time it met yours. You felt caught between the desire to push him out of your life and the inability to imagine a world without him.

The following days you tried harder than ever to avoid him. If you saw him coming, you would veer off on another path. If your father mentioned his name, you would quickly change the subject. But Ragnar didn't seem willing to ignore you. Every chance he got, he would look for you with his eyes, with that crooked smile that seemed to know more than he was willing to say.

Some time later Ragnar had returned from the north with more than just stories of his travels. He returned with a woman at his side: Lagertha. The first time you saw her, you understood why he had chosen her. She was beautiful, with such a strong and determined presence that she seemed to fill the room without needing to say a word. She was not a simple peasant or any woman. She was a warrior, a shieldmaiden, someone worthy of accompanying a man like him.

And you hated her.

It wasn't because she was evil or cruel, because she wasn't. Lagertha, with her open smile and direct gaze, tried from the beginning to win your sympathy, but you refused point-blank. Every kind word she spoke to you crashed against the wall you had raised between you. You didn't want her friendship. You wanted nothing from her.

But what really tore you apart was Ragnar. He seemed different with Lagertha at his side, as if his world had become complete in a way you had never seen before. When he looked at her, there was something in his eyes that made you grit your teeth: affection. It wasn't the camaraderie she shared with your father or the teasing affection she sometimes gave you. It was something deeper, more real.

At first, you tried to ignore what you felt. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that what Ragnar did with his life wasn’t your problem. But the more time passed, the harder it was to contain the rage that was building up inside you.

You became a walking storm. Your words became sharper, your gestures more abrupt. Everything you did was tinged with an anger that you couldn’t explain to others, not even to yourself. When you crossed paths with Ragnar, you barely looked at him. And if he tried to talk to you, your answers were cold and distant.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you one day, after you completely ignored him during a conversation at the family table.

“What would happen to me?” you replied without looking at him, focusing on breaking off a piece of bread as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Ragnar wasn’t stupid. You knew that. He had always been shrewd, able to read people with an ease that was disturbing. But this time, he didn’t seem to quite understand you. He frowned, leaning towards you a little. “You’ve been in a bad mood since I got back. Is it because of Lagertha?”

The sound of her name on his lips made your stomach twist. You forced yourself to remain calm, though. You looked up, staring at him with a hardness you didn’t know you possessed. “So what if she is? I don’t like her. Is that enough for you?”

Ragnar arched an eyebrow, surprised by your bluntness. “She hasn’t done anything to you. Why does she bother you so much?”

“Because I do,” you snapped, bolting up from the table. “Because I didn’t have to bring her here, or marry her.”

He stared at you, and for a moment you thought he was going to insist. But instead, he leaned back against the back of his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand why this matters so much to you.”

“And you don’t need to understand it,” you blurted out before exiting the room, leaving your anger and unfinished words behind you.

After that, you avoided any prolonged interaction with him. If he was in a room, you found an excuse to leave. If he spoke to you, you responded in monosyllables or ignored him completely. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you.

But there were times when you couldn’t help but see him, like when he walked beside Lagertha through the fields, his laughter mingling with hers as if they were the only ones who mattered in the world. On those occasions, you felt something inside you break a little more.

When you turned sixteen, the day was a cold, grey sky, as if even the gods shared the melancholy you felt inside. The village was busier than ever; Ragnar and Lagertha had just had their son, Bjorn, a little boy who had already stolen everyone's hearts with his loud cry and inquisitive look.

You received the news while helping your mother in the kitchen. A neighbor came in excitedly, her beaming smile lighting up the room. “A son has been born to Ragnar! A strong, healthy boy. They have named him Bjorn.”

You stood still for a moment, your hands still covered in flour. The air seemed to grow heavy, as if every word of that woman crushed you. Bjorn. Ragnar had a son.

You knew this moment would come. It was natural for a man like him to build a family, for his life to be filled with new bonds and responsibilities. But that certainty didn’t make it hurt any less.

That night, as the village celebrated the birth of the little boy, you stepped away from the crowd. Chants and laughter filled the air, but you couldn’t bear to be there, watching Ragnar and Lagertha receive everyone’s congratulations. Instead, you sat alone on the riverbank, watching the current carry away the fallen leaves.

It was then, in the pale moonlight, that something inside you changed. For years you had carried an unrequited love, a weight that had filled you with rage, sadness, and frustration. But now, thinking of Bjorn and the future Ragnar was building, you realized it was time to let it go.

It wasn't easy. It was like ripping out a part of yourself, a part that had been with you for as long as you could remember. But you knew you could no longer live trapped in that cycle of emotions. Ragnar wasn't yours, and he never would be. And that was okay.

You decided that if you wanted to find your place in the world, you had to free yourself from that weight. So you let it go, like the leaves falling into the river, allowing the current to carry them away to a place you couldn't follow.

Letting it go didn't mean forgetting it, though. Ragnar was still a part of your life, as he always had been. But now you saw him differently. He was no longer the man you wanted, but someone you had learned to respect from a distance.

He was still there when you needed him, though those occasions were becoming less frequent. You were no longer a child, and the world did not revolve around him as you had once felt it did. You were a woman now, and you were determined to forge your own path.

One afternoon, while you were working in the fields, Ragnar approached you. He was carrying Bjorn in his arms, and the boy looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and adoration that made you smile despite everything.

“Aren’t you coming to see the little one?” he asked you, with that smile of his that still managed to disarm you, although in a different way now.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and walked towards them. Bjorn stared at you with his big blue eyes, so similar to his father’s. He extended a small hand towards you, and you couldn’t help but gently take it between your fingers.

“He’s strong,” you said, more to yourself than to Ragnar.

“Like his mother,” he replied with a soft laugh.

You looked at him, feeling a calmness you hadn’t known before. “And like his father.”

Ragnar watched you for a moment, as if trying to decipher something in your expression. But he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

That was the last time you allowed the ghosts of your past love to visit you. From then on, you focused on yourself, on your own goals and dreams. Ragnar was still a part of your life, but no longer the axis of your thoughts.

A year later when you turned seventeen, your world began to expand in ways you had never imagined. Ragnar, always restless, had begun to embark on more frequent trips, exploring new lands and discovering unknown horizons. It was on one of those days, while he was planning his next expedition, that you decided to accompany him. It wasn’t something you thought about much; you simply felt it. You wanted something more, something far from the confines of the village you had called home all your life.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Ragnar asked you when you proposed, with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile. “The sea is not as kind as it seems.”

“As kind as you, I suppose,” you replied with a spark of humor that made him laugh. “I don’t mind. I want to go.”

And so it was that you found yourself on the ship, surrounded by men weathered by wind and water, the smell of salt filling your senses. At first, you didn’t know what to expect. The constant movement of the waves was disconcerting, and the sound of the wood creaking beneath your feet made you feel small and insignificant. But as the days passed, you began to understand why Ragnar loved these voyages so much.

There was a freedom at sea that couldn’t be found anywhere else. There were no village expectations, no inquisitive glances, no questions about your future. On the ship, you were simply you, facing a world that stretched beyond the horizon.

Ragnar taught you to navigate by the stars, pointing out constellations you’d never noticed before. “Look there,” he said one night, as the sky spread out like a black blanket studded with diamonds. “Those take us north.”

“And those others,” you added, pointing to a group of stars that seemed especially bright to you, “where do they take us?”

He looked at you with a calm smile. “Wherever you want to go.”

It was in those moments, amidst the vastness of the ocean, that you began to understand something about yourself. You had spent years feeling trapped, first by your emotions towards Ragnar, then by the weight of your own expectations. But here, far away from everything, you realized that freedom was not something anyone could give you; it was something you had to claim for yourself.

When you reached land, every place you discovered filled you with wonder. The villages you visited, the new faces, the unfamiliar languages… everything was a reminder of how big the world was and how small you were within it. But that smallness did not intimidate you. On the contrary, it inspired you.

Ragnar seemed to notice the change in you. Although he did not say it openly, his gestures made it clear. When she watched you interact with the villagers or explore the markets with eyes full of curiosity, there was something in her expression that almost seemed like… pride.

When you returned from travels, there was always a mix of relief and melancholy. Returning meant safety, the warmth of home, but also the return to routines and inevitable questions.

Lagertha, who you had learned to get along with better, always greeted you with a smile and a question she couldn’t seem to avoid: “Well? When are you going to marry one of the men?”

That question always made you feel uncomfortable. You knew it was common for you to be engaged at your age, but the thought of tying yourself down to someone had never been appealing to you. Not after everything you had felt for Ragnar. Not after having tasted the freedom that travel offered you.

“I haven’t found anyone worth it yet,” you always answered with a noncommittal smile, trying to downplay it.

Lagertha would often laugh at your answer, though she would insist. “You are beautiful and strong. There is no shortage of men in this village who would want you as a wife.”

You would simply shrug and change the subject. Although you could now see that Lagertha was not your enemy, you could not confess the truth to her either. You could not tell her that deep down, there was still a part of you that could not imagine being with anyone but Ragnar, though you knew that dream would never come true.

It was not long before you were once again embarking on another journey with Ragnar. This time, the destination was beyond anything you had ever imagined. There was talk of faraway lands, with riches and wonders that few had ever seen. The preparations were long and meticulous; the journey would be longer and more dangerous, but the excitement in the air was palpable.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Ragnar asked for the umpteenth time, as he adjusted the oars on the boat.

“What kind of question is that?” you replied with a defiant smile. “Of course I’m going.”

Ragnar nodded, though his eyes reflected more than just acceptance. It was a mix of pride and concern, but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

The first leg of the journey was exciting, as always. The wind filled the sails and the horizon stretched out before you like an endless promise. But as the days passed, the conditions began to change. The waters grew colder, the air heavier, and your strength began to fail.

At first it was a simple malaise that you tried to ignore. A slight fever, some weakness. But soon it became impossible to hide. Your body was exhausted, and every movement cost you more effort than you wanted to admit. Ragnar was the first to notice.

“You look pale,” he commented one night as you stood by the fire, trying to warm up from the cold sea.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your tone firmer than you felt.

But the next day, when you tried to get up to help row, your legs wouldn't respond. Ragnar caught up with you before you could fall to the ground.

"Enough!" he said, his tone so authoritative it brooked no reply. "You're not well. You need to rest."

You were placed on a makeshift bed inside the ship, and though you resisted at first, your body soon gave out. The fever rose, and the weakness became unbearable. You could barely open your eyes, and when you did, everything seemed to spin around you.

Ragnar remained by your side from that moment on, like a constant shadow. He barely ate or slept, always attentive to any change in your condition. His face, normally full of confidence and energy, was now marked with worry.

In the moments when you were conscious, you could hear Ragnar speaking softly. You couldn't always understand what he said, but his words were often directed at you.

“This is my fault,” he muttered one night, as he changed the damp cloth on your forehead. “I shouldn’t have let you come. I was selfish to think you could handle this. I always wanted you around… but I should never have put you in danger.”

You wanted to respond, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that this trip had been your decision, but the words wouldn't come out. All you could do was weakly squeeze his hand when he took it, a gesture that seemed to give him minimal comfort.

Your illness lasted for weeks in those distant lands, an unknown place where every dawn seemed just as uncertain. No one knew exactly what had caused you such extreme weakness: the change in climate, the different food, or simply the exhaustion of the journey. The days passed in a mix of hope and worry, and although the others continued with their tasks of exploration and looting, Ragnar did not leave your side.

The fever slowly subsided, and your strength began to return. At first, getting out of bed was a triumph, a small step towards normality. But as the weeks turned into a month and a half, you found yourself trapped in a state of endless recovery. Ragnar did not let you do absolutely anything, which at first you were grateful for, but soon began to drive you crazy.

“You’re not ready yet,” Ragnar insisted every time you tried to get up to do more than walk a few steps.

“I’m better,” you protested one day, crossing your arms in frustration. “I can carry something, help around camp, train even.”

“No, you can’t,” he replied, his tone firm enough to shut down the conversation before it even began. “I don’t want to see you lifting anything heavier than that plate of food.”

The concern on his face was evident, and though you understood where he was coming from, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. You weren’t used to someone limiting you like that, least of all Ragnar.

“You’re worse than any disease,” you murmured, your tone more playful than angry.

Ragnar smiled slightly, but didn’t relent. “You can hate me all you want, but you’re staying here. I’m not going to risk you relapsing.”

With Ragnar acting as a relentless guardian, your world shrank to the walls of the house where you were staying. It was a simple building, with wooden walls and a roof that barely protected you from the icy wind. Although you were grateful to have a place to shelter, the stillness made you feel useless.

You did small tasks: cleaning utensils, mending the clothes of the men traveling with you, and even cooking when you were allowed. But none of that filled the void you felt from not being able to participate in training or scouting. The lack of action weighed on you like an invisible burden, and though you tried to hide it, it was clear that you were not satisfied.

Sometimes, as you worked in silence, you felt Ragnar's eyes on you. When you faced him, he would simply smile and look away, as if he wanted to reassure you that everything was okay. But that only made you more upset.

There were days when you felt like a burden. Seeing the others return to camp with stories of what they had seen and done while you had barely stepped out into the yard was a constant reminder of what you had lost. You didn't want to admit it, but you felt weak, and that was something you had never handled well.

Ragnar seemed to sense your emotions even when you said nothing. “Why are you so quiet?” he asked you one night, as you ate dinner in silence.

“I’m thinking,” you replied, not wanting to go into details.

“Thinking about what?”

You paused, unsure if you wanted to tell him the truth. Finally, you decided to be honest. “About how useless I feel here. Everyone is out there, exploring, fighting… and I’m here, mending clothes.”

Ragnar set his bowl aside and looked you straight in the eyes. “That doesn’t make you useless. You’re alive, aren’t you? That’s all that matters now.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you replied, your tone bordering on resentment. “You’re out there, being who you are. I’m stuck here, being… nothing.”

Ragnar sighed, as if he understood your frustration more than you cared to admit. “Sometimes, surviving is the hardest thing we can do. But don’t think for a moment that you’re not important. I wouldn’t be here, wasting my time with you, if I thought that.”

His words, though well-intentioned, didn’t completely dispel your unease.

In those days you tried to convince yourself that it was all behind you. The childish love you once felt for Ragnar was a distant memory, a whim buried beneath the years of maturity and the reality of his life with Lagertha. You had spent enough time hating him, loving him, and finally letting him go, or so you told yourself. However, as the days passed in that small village, something began to change.

The way Ragnar looked at you was different. You weren’t entirely sure at first, but there was something in the intensity of his gaze, in how his eyes seemed to search yours for no apparent reason. It was like every time you moved around the house, even in the most mundane moments, he was watching, watching.

That invisible weight, that tension between the two of you that seemed to fill the air. Every time you were near him, you felt a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You tried to ignore it, to convince yourself it was just your imagination, but it wasn’t that simple.

For his part, Ragnar was experiencing something he couldn’t explain. For years, he’d always seen you as the little girl who ran around the camp, the younger sister who looked down on him or argued with him about anything. He’d been by your side like an older brother, like a protector. But now… now he couldn’t help but see you differently.

He didn’t know when it had started exactly. Maybe it was when he realized how strong you’d been during your illness, fighting weakness with silent determination. Or maybe it was simply the fact that, by spending so much time together, he’d started to notice things he hadn’t seen before.

The way the sunlight lit up your hair as you moved near the window. The softness in your gestures as you worked on chores around the house, even if you did it in annoyance. The way your eyes sparkled when you were angry at him for not letting you do more.

Everything about you intrigued him.

One afternoon, as you stood alone in the yard trying to mend an old coat, Ragnar appeared. He didn’t say anything at first, just sat next to you, watching your fingers move with precision.

“Why are you always staring at me?” you finally asked, without looking at him.

Ragnar smiled, but didn’t answer right away. “And why are you always so attentive to what I do?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the blush that rose to your cheeks. “Because you’re impossible to ignore. You’re always there, like a shadow.”

“Maybe because I like being where you are,” he replied with a sincerity that took you by surprise.

You stopped, the thread in your hands hanging. His words weren’t brazen, but they weren’t innocent either. You looked at him, trying to read on his face if he was joking or if there was something more behind his words. What you saw in his eyes disarmed you: there was no trace of mockery, only a curiosity that seemed to dig deep inside you.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be charged with a new energy between you. Casual conversations were filled with awkward silences, as if both of you knew something was changing but neither of you wanted to admit it.

Ragnar couldn’t help but find excuses to spend time with you. He always had some reason to come over, whether it was to bring you some water, check on how you were feeling, or just sit quietly beside you. And you, despite your frustration, couldn’t help but feel more aware of his presence than ever.

One night, while the others slept, you stepped out into the courtyard to get some air. Ragnar appeared shortly after, as if he knew exactly where you were.

“You can’t sleep,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

You shook your head. “The air here is different. It’s hard to breathe sometimes.”

He nodded, coming close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body in the cold night. “Do you regret coming?”

“No,” you answered quickly, looking up at the stars. “Despite everything… I don’t regret it.”

Ragnar was silent for a moment, before saying, “Me neither.”

You turned to look at him, searching for some meaning in his words. But before you could ask, he had already looked away, as if he was afraid to say anything more.

The day after the conversation in the courtyard, you decided that you couldn't allow what you felt for Ragnar to take shape. If you allowed those feelings to grow, you would lose control over yourself, over your life, over your ability to decide. And worst of all, you would lose Ragnar in a way you didn't want to even imagine. So, for three whole days, you avoided him.

You didn't look him in the eye more than necessary, you kept yourself busy with tasks that took you away from him, and you always looked for excuses not to be around. Every time Ragnar showed up at camp, you somehow slipped out of his reach, seeking to avoid the tension you knew existed between the two of you.

But despite all your efforts, you couldn't deny that every time Ragnar looked at you, there was something in his eyes that overwhelmed you. The tension grew like a storm about to break. You knew he felt the same way too, and even though you tried not to admit it, the emotions were eating you up from the inside.

On the fourth day, confrontation was inevitable. Ragnar found you in the small tent where you were busy organizing the equipment. He closed the entrance behind him with a soft knock, and stared at you silently, knowing you had been avoiding him.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice low and calm, as always, but this time with something more. An urgency.

You stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as he came closer, closing the distance between you. “Stop running away from what’s happening between us.”

You breathed quickened at the closeness, at the certainty in his voice. You knew he was just as caught up in this game as you were. But you couldn’t let this be real. You shouldn’t.

“You’re right,” you murmured, looking away. “But we can’t…”

“We can’t keep ignoring what we feel, can we?” Ragnar interrupted, leaning slightly towards you, searching your eyes.

The space between you shrank to inches, the electricity in the air palpable. You could hear your own heartbeat quickening, the heat of his body overwhelming you. And before you could stop him, Ragnar raised a hand and gently touched your cheek.

The contact ignited a spark that ran through your entire body. You couldn’t resist it any longer. Without thinking, you launched yourself at him, your lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. It was as if all the time of tension, of repressed desires, exploded in that single moment.

Ragnar responded immediately, his hands moving up your back, pulling you closer to him. Your hands tangled in his hair, as the kiss deepened, moving from something passionate to something more urgent, more desperate.

“I love you… I always have,” you managed to whisper between the kisses, unable to keep quiet what you had held in for so long. The words came out of you with the same intensity you had repressed those feelings with for years.

Ragnar didn't respond. He looked into your eyes, as if he wanted to make sure you had really said it. But he didn't say anything, he just kissed you again, harder, as if the answer was in the act, not the words.

The intensity of that kiss didn't go away. Instead, it intensified as his hands moved with an urgency you had never seen in him. There were no more barriers, only the desire to explore what had been dormant between you.

Ragnar took you firmly, guiding you towards the bed with gentle but determined movements. You didn't say anything, because you knew you didn't need to. Everything that had been left unsaid between the two of you was now expressed in a much more intimate and direct way.

That night, was the first time you spent in his bed. And he was the first man you had ever been with. You felt it in every touch, in every caress, in the way he knew you and wanted you with an intensity you had never experienced before. At that moment, Ragnar was not only the man you had secretly desired, but the only one you wanted to share your body and soul with.

When you finally rested, breathing intertwined, you said nothing. There was no need. There was no turning back, no way to deny what had grown between you and finally unleashed.

The night stretched between you like a blanket of calm after the storm. The two of you lay together, the softness of your breaths intertwined in the stillness of the bed. Despite the intensity of what had happened, something in your chest was still churning.

Ragnar, lying next to you, watched you with an intensity that overwhelmed you. His gaze was deep, as if he were trying to decipher something that had been hidden for a long time. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low, but with an unmistakable weight.

“You love me… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

The question left you speechless for a moment. You turned to look at him, and although his face was serene, his eyes reflected a mix of surprise and something else, something that seemed to be a request for explanations.

You knew you couldn’t hide it anymore, but how to respond? How to explain all the suffering and anguish you had felt loving someone who seemed unattainable?

“I didn’t say it because I knew you would never love me back,” you replied, your voice cracking, the pain of all those years of silence making a dent in your tone. “And besides… you have a family. Lagertha… your son…”

Ragnar looked at you in silence for a moment, as if he was processing your words. The seconds seemed eternal as his gaze softened, as if he too understood the weight of what you had just said.

“Don’t think about it,” he finally said, his tone filled with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “Let’s not think about what we can’t change.”

Before you could respond, Ragnar kissed you again. A deep kiss. In that kiss there was no room for doubt or fear.

The nights that followed were like a dream from which you didn’t want to wake up. Every night you spent in his bed, every night Ragnar adored you with an intensity that made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. In his eyes, you looked more beautiful than ever, and every word that came out of his mouth, every touch his hands offered, enveloped you in a feeling of ecstasy you had never known.

He treated you with a tenderness and fervor that overflowed from what you had imagined in your most secret dreams. His caresses were soft, but his kisses were ardent, as if he wanted to erase all the distance that had existed between you during all those years. You felt that you were finally seen, that Ragnar saw you, not as the girl who was once part of his life, but as the woman you were now. And, for the first time, you did not care what the future might bring.

However, that peace you had found in his closeness, that security that Ragnar seemed to give you, was shaken when the time of staying in distant lands came to an end. The journey home was long, tense, and for the first time, uncertainty settled over you.

Every day that passed, the question hung in the air, even if neither of you said it out loud: what will happen when we get home? You knew Ragnar had a family, and even though he told you not to think about it, you couldn't help it. Lagertha, his son and the one on the way, his life... it was all there, waiting for them. And what was left for you? What was left for what you had shared? The distance between the realities you faced became more and more evident as the journey progressed.

Despite everything, hope was still alive in your heart. Despite the doubts that haunted you, the constant question about what would happen when you returned home.

Ragnar didn't talk much during the trip, and perhaps, in part, neither did you. You both knew there was something that needed to be resolved, something that couldn't be left hanging in the air.

The wind blew hard, the waves of the sea crashed against the rocks, but as you approached the familiar shores, the weight of the unknown seemed to increase. You didn't know what you would do when you set foot in your home, nor how you would react to seeing Lagertha, nor what Ragnar would think of everything that had happened.

Returning home was a heartbreaking contrast to the intense emotions of the trip. As soon as you arrived, the usual routine seemed to take its place as if time in distant lands had not happened. Lagertha had given birth to a girl while you were away, and Ragnar's joy for his new daughter filled the air.

You stood by, watching from a distance. You went back home to your parents, trying to put a physical and emotional barrier between you and Ragnar. You thought that distance might help you forget, that staying away from him, from his family, might ease the weight of what you shared.

You didn’t visit his home, not even when your parents mentioned his name. You tried to distract yourself with your own tasks, with the life you’d put on hold while you traveled. But, despite all your attempts, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. Every corner of your memory seemed to be permeated with his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered.

And then, as if fate wanted to mock you, he appeared. Ragnar arrived at your house without warning, his laughter echoing from the living room as he spoke to your parents. You heard his voice before you saw him, and something inside you tensed. You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but that encounter took you by surprise.

You decided to stay in your room, taking refuge in the distance you could still maintain. You figured that if you didn’t see him, it would be easier to ignore the reality of his presence, easier to remind yourself that you couldn’t keep feeding what you felt.

But Ragnar wasn’t one to be ignored easily. As night fell and the house fell silent, you knew something was about to change. You felt his presence before he knocked on your door, before he peeked into the room with that look that always managed to disarm you.

“Are you going to hide from me all night?” he asked quietly, closing the door behind him before you could answer.

“I’m not hiding,” you replied, even though you both knew it was a lie. You didn’t look up from your hands, afraid that if you did, all the control you’d tried to build would crumble in an instant.

Ragnar didn’t say anything. He walked over to where you were sitting and, with a calmness only he could project, knelt in front of you. His eyes searched yours, and when you finally looked at him, you felt all the weight of your will evaporate.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“And yet, here I am,” he replied with a smile that only made things more complicated.

You didn’t know how it happened, but before you could stop him, his lips were on yours. It was a slow kiss, filled with an intensity you hadn’t forgotten. Everything you had tried to bury, all the distance you had tried to impose, crumbled in that instant.

“Ragnar…” you tried to speak, but he shook his head, silencing you with another kiss.

That night, you had him in your bed, and the weight of the forbidden made every moment even more intense. You tried to keep quiet, afraid someone might hear, but Ragnar seemed to be in no hurry, taking his time exploring every corner of your skin as if he wanted to memorize you.

Every caress, every whisper in your ear, made the outside world disappear. For a few hours, there were no wives or children, no families or responsibilities, just the two of you in that room, sharing something that couldn't be explained with words.

When the heat of the moment was behind you, your body intertwined with his. The silence in the room was deep, broken only by the sound of your breathing calming down. Ragnar wrapped one arm around you, pulling you towards him, while his other hand gently rested on your bare belly.

He began to trace slow, abstract movements on your stomach with the tips of his fingers, almost absentmindedly, as if his mind was somewhere else. You could feel the weight of his thoughts, though you couldn't guess what was going through his head.

“Once,” he began in a low, contemplative tone, “a witch told me I would have many children. More than I could count.”

His words, spoken with a mix of seriousness and curiosity, struck something deep within you. Even though he didn’t seem aware of the impact they might have, you felt a pang of sadness creep into your chest. You didn’t know exactly why; perhaps because those words were a reminder of the life he led, a life that didn’t include a future with you.

You swallowed, trying to contain the lump that formed in your throat, but it was useless. A silent tear rolled down your cheek, followed by another. You tried to turn your face away, you didn't want him to see you like that, you didn't want him to know how much those words had touched a wound you tried to ignore.

“What's wrong?” Ragnar asked, noticing your silence and the trembling in your breathing. He sat up slightly, turning to you with a worried expression. “Did I say something that hurt you?”

You shook your head, but your lips trembled. “It's not that... I just... I don't know.” The words escaped you; you couldn't explain this whirlwind of emotions that invaded you.

Ragnar took your face with both hands, wiping the tears with his thumb while looking at you with an intensity that disarmed you. “I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Never.”

His eyes, as blue as the clear sky, reflected a sincerity that hurt you even more. You wanted to tell him how you felt, but how to put into words something so complex? How to explain that it wasn’t his fault, but the weight of everything you shared, of everything that couldn’t be?

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, though your voice was a broken whisper. “I just… sometimes wonder how I fit into your life. Or if I do.”

Ragnar watched you in silence for a moment, and then pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in a warm, protective embrace. “Don’t think about it now,” he said softly, his voice echoing in his chest against your ear. “What we have here, now… that’s what matters. I don’t want you to cry for me. I don’t want this to hurt you.”

You clung to him, letting his warmth comfort you, though the questions in your mind remained unanswered. His words were a temporary balm, but they couldn’t undo the truth of the situation. Yet, at that moment, you decided to allow yourself to believe him, if only for that night. Because when you were in his arms, the world seemed a little less complicated, and that was enough to keep you going.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions for you. You had tried to get back to the routine, to the normality that you so wanted to get back, but something inside you had changed. It wasn't just the guilt or the love you still felt for Ragnar, it was something deeper, something you hadn't faced until you started to notice the first signs.

At first, you ignored it. The constant tiredness, the nausea that hit you without warning, it could all be attributed to the wear and tear of the trip, or the stress you had accumulated. But you couldn't deny the truth for long. With each passing day, the signs became clearer, until you finally accepted what your body was trying to tell you: you were pregnant.

The revelation was a shock that left you breathless. You sat on the edge of your bed, trembling hands holding your belly as reality sank in. The life you carried inside was too big a secret to share, a secret that could change everything.

You couldn't tell your parents. Their disappointment would be an unbearable weight, and the scandal that could be unleashed if anyone else found out was something you weren't willing to face. You couldn't tell Ragnar either. He had a family. The last thing you wanted was to further complicate their life, or yours.

So you decided to keep it to yourself. He was yours, and yours alone.

Days turned into weeks, and you learned to hide the signs. When you felt sick, you found an excuse to get away. When tiredness got the better of you, you made sure no one noticed. But keeping the secret wasn't easy, especially when Ragnar was around.

There was something in his gaze that seemed to pierce through you, as if he could see past your attempts to hide the truth. Even though he didn't say anything, you knew he suspected something was bothering you. His questions were subtle, but constant, and every time you evaded them you felt the tension between you grow.

At night, when you lay alone, the weight of your decision crushed you. You wondered if you had done the right thing, if keeping the secret was really the best option. But every time you thought about what could happen if the truth came out, you convinced yourself that you had no other choice.

It was madness, a storm you couldn't control, but you had no choice but to face it alone.

The days continued to pass with a tension that seemed to cut off your air. Every glance from your parents, every conversation with Ragnar, was like walking on brittle ice. You knew you couldn't stay much longer. Not because you didn't want to, but because every moment prolonged the risk of your secret being discovered, and that wasn't something you could allow.

You hadn’t made the decision lightly. For days, you’d been turning it over in your mind, searching for options, wondering if there was any way to stay, to keep what you carried inside you safe without destroying everything else. But every path you imagined led to the same place: to chaos, to pain, and to a scandal that would affect not only you, but everyone around you.

You couldn’t allow that. And so, one night, as you sat alone in your room, you decided you had to leave.

The conversation with your parents was one of the hardest things you’d ever faced. You sat with them at the family table, your hands clenched in your lap to hide the shaking.

“I need to go,” you finally said, breaking the silence that seemed to weigh like a slab in the air.

Your parents looked at each other, confused. It was your mother who spoke first. “Leave? Where?”

“Away,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I need some time to myself, to find my own way. I’ve been feeling… trapped.”

It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Your parents seemed to hesitate, exchanging glances that clearly argued your request without the need for words.

“Does this have anything to do with Ragnar?” your father finally asked, his tone sterner.

Just hearing his name made your heart stop for a moment. But you shook your head. “No. This is something of mine, something I need to do.”

Your mother tried to convince you to stay. She told you about how dangerous it was to travel alone, how you’d always had a safe home with them. But you had already made up your mind. You listened to her in silence, letting her words flow over you like water over rock. When she was done, you simply repeated, “I have to.”

“If Ragnar knows you’re leaving…” your father began, but you cut him off with a gesture.

“He mustn’t know. I beg you. If he asks, tell him I left because I needed some space, but don’t tell him anything else.”

Your mother looked at you with concern, while your father frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But eventually, they nodded. You gave them no other options.

You had planned everything in secret. You knew where you would go: a small settlement far from Kattegat, isolated enough to avoid questions. You had packed the few things you needed into a sack and prepared a horse to set out at dawn.

The night before your departure was the longest of your life. You were alone in your room, watching the shadows move on the walls as a storm of emotions raged within you. There was pain, sure, pain so deep it seemed to cut your soul in two. But there was also a strange sense of relief, as if you had finally taken control of your destiny.

You didn’t sleep that night. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, you got up, got dressed, and grabbed your things. Your parents bid you farewell in silence, though your mother couldn’t help but hug you tightly before you mounted your horse.

“Be careful,” she told you with tears in her eyes.

“I will be,” you promised, though you weren’t sure it was true.

As you left Kattegat behind you, you felt an emptiness in your chest that threatened to devour you. Each step of the horse seemed to take you further away from everything you knew, from everyone you loved, but also closer to a future that was now yours alone.

You knew this path would be difficult. You knew you would be alone, and that there would be times when you would question whether you had made the right decision. But you also knew you had no other choice. You had to protect your son, even if it meant sacrificing everything else.

As the landscape changed around you, you held on to that thought. Because while the pain of leaving Ragnar and your family was unbearable, it was also a reminder of how strong you were. And that no matter what, you would find a way to move forward.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok x reader #vikings #ragnar x reader #ragnar x lagertha #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #lagertha #ragnar x you #bjorn ragnarsson

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myocsfanfictions · 30 days ago

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Under the Devil’s Eye

MASTERLIST

Selethryth, a young lady with strange eyes and prophetic dreams, is both feared and revered in King Ecbert's court. Though he sees her as a powerful tool for his ambitions, it is Ivar, the brutal and unpredictable son of Ragnar, who is drawn to her. As their fates collide, Selethryth finds herself entangled in a dangerous game where her gifts may lead her into the arms of darkness.

《 Previous - Next 》

Chapter 2

Selethryth felt utterly exhausted, as if her body had been forged from lead. Ever since the night she dreamt of the raven, sleep had become her enemy. Every time she closed her eyes, the nightmare returned—always the same. The vision of the bird, flying alone in the darkened sky, tired and abandoned. Then the serpent, coiling around the raven and swallowing it whole, its death slow and inevitable. And after, the earth trembling beneath her, decaying and foul, while a dark figure appeared in the shadows, familiar blue eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. The sea—the sea that devoured men and castles alike. And always, always, she was powerless, a silent witness the doom around her.

Each dream left her heart heavy, suffocated, as if a dark force had wrapped around her chest and was ready to crush her at any moment.

The King had grown restless after hearing about the raven, and since then, he summoned her every morning to ask what she had dreamt the night before. It was the only topic of conversation between them these days.

"Why do you keep pushing her to speak of this curse?" Her mother's voice broke the silence one night, trembling and low, as if she feared being overheard.

"The king has asked," her father replied quietly but tensely. "Who am I to deny him?"

"That man is a sinner. A dangerous, mad man," Lady Oswyth retorted, bitterness heavy in her voice, but also fear.

"Don't speak like that!" Lord Godric's voice was sharp, almost a whisper, but there was an unmistakable fear in it. "If the king hears—"

"If the king hears, it makes no difference," her mother whispered back. "We're already lost." She paused, her tone breaking. "But he doesn't see what I see. He doesn't understand the sign in her eyes... what she is."

"And the king doesn't want us to intervene. There will be no exorcism for her," her father said, trying to end the conversation, though his frustration was clear.

Oswyth sighed, her voice cracking. "You are condemning your daughter's soul for your own ambitions, Godric."

"Her soul has been lost since the day she was born!" Her father's words were harsh, like an old wound reopened. The anger was raw. "We knew it! She nearly killed you when you gave birth to her! And after her, you couldn't give me another child. We've always known, Oswyth!" His voice trembled with bitterness. "I thought we were cursed because of her. But the king... the king sees something else. And we've risen, like my father never could. I won't let anything ruin that."

Selethryth remained silent, hidden behind the ajar wooden door, shrouded in the darkness of her chamber. Her eyes lowered, and her heart ached as the cruel words pierced her. She had always known the truth of her birth—that she was the reason her mother had been unable to bear more children. The moment they had seen her eyes, they had known it was her fault. And now, hearing her father speak of it so openly, the weight of her existence pressed down on her, heavier than ever.

She slid down onto the cold floor, drawing her knees close to her chest, struggling to keep the sobs trapped within her. She could not allow herself to be heard, not even a sigh, as silent tears welled in her eyes. She didn't understand what she had done to deserve this. What had she done wrong? How had she offended the Lord, for Him to bring so much pain and dishonor to her family?

Selethryth had always tried to be a good Christian—going to church, learning everything that a noble lady was supposed to know—but none of it mattered. To them, she would always be a sinner. Always to blame. And there was nothing she could do to change their minds. To everyone, she would forever be a witch.

This pained her heart gravely.

"You're so quiet, child." Judith's voice broke through the silence, making Selethryth look up from her book. The lady was painting with careful hands, recreating a scene from the sacred scriptures. It was something Judith loved to do, though it was considered inappropriate for a lady—an indulgence that, by her position as the King's mistress, she was free to pursue. Women of her standing had the freedom to do things that others could not, like drawing or reading.

"Forgive me for not being good company, my lady," Selethryth apologized, her voice barely above a whisper. But Judith turned to her with softness in her eyes—eyes that no one else ever showed her. She was the only one who ever looked at her like that.

Selethryth still remembered when Judith had first feared her, when she had been labeled a witch—an accusation that had followed her like a shadow. But it didn't take long for Judith to grow fond of her, to see beyond the rumors and the fear. For Selethryth's mother, this was fitting. Judith, after all, was a woman with many flaws, living openly in her sins. To Oswyth, it made sense that she would not have ill thoughts about her daughter.

"Nonsense, Selethryth. You're always good company," Judith said gently, her gaze soft as she observed the young lady, who, after a long pause, found the strength to smile. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked again, her brush never faltering as she continued painting.

Selethryth hesitated. She wanted to confide in Judith; she felt that the woman was the only one who might truly understand her. Judith had been the one to push her to read and study, to learn things she was never supposed to. And whenever someone spoke ill of her, it was Judith who had defended her without hesitation. But Judith was too close to the King for Selethryth to be completely honest with her. She could never speak of what had been said in her family's chamber, nor could she risk the royal family thinking her ungrateful. So, with a quiet breath, she decided to change the subject.

"I was reading about the Vikings," Selethryth said, her gaze dropping to the book in her hands.

"Vikings?" Judith asked with a curious tilt of her head. "What made them so interesting to you?"

"Magnus says he's the son of Ragnar Lothbrok," Selethryth replied, her voice soft.

Magnus, the son of the late Queen Kwenthrith, had been fathered by Ragnar Lothbrok during the war for Mercia. The very fact of his parentage had been the only reason Ecbert had agreed to raise him as his own.

"You've met him, haven't you?" Selethryth asked, her curiosity piqued. She saw Judith's expression shift to one of quiet nostalgia, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"You know I have," Judith replied, her voice tinged with something unreadable, though her smile was warm.

Selethryth, worried she had overstepped, realized the question had likely seemed unnecessary, considering Alfred's father had been one of Ragnar's most trusted companions.

"Was he truly as impressive as the stories say?" Selethryth asked, her voice full of wonder. She had read so much about the Vikings—their fierceness, their legends—and yet it was hard to believe such men existed outside of myth.

Judith nodded slowly, her eyes distant for a moment. "All of it is true," she said, her voice low and reverent. "He was an impressive warrior... with an even more impressive mind."

Then something on the page caught Selethryth's attention. She leaned in closer, her fingers tracing the edge of an illustration—a man, with a raven on his chest. She frowned, the image feeling oddly familiar. She turned the page back, her fingers trembling slightly, and found the same drawing, the same raven.

"Why a raven?" she muttered under her breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the image.

Judith, having noticed Selethryth's intense focus, hummed in curiosity and leaned in to see the drawing.

"You're looking at Ragnar," Judith said softly, almost as if speaking of an old friend. "The raven was his sigil."

Selethryth's breath caught in her throat as her gaze moved from Judith back to the drawing.

A raven...

She kept repeating to herself, It's just a drawing. There was no reason to think of it as anything more than what it was. She had dreamt of a bird dying. Nothing more. But she couldn't shake that strange feeling—like the image made sense. As if she were meant to look at it. But why would that be true?

She had never cared about Ragnar Lothbrok, why did she feel such a strong connection to that figure now?

She had never believed Ecbert's words. She had never believed that she had been blessed with prophetic dreams. They were just dreams, read by others, their meaning always coming later. Like with the first dream she had told him.

She had dreamt of a woman with black hair and a crown on her head, but suddenly the crown turned to ashes and the ground beneath her crawled away, as if it wanted to escape from her. But then, the same earth formed a bridge that led to King Ecbert, wearing an even bigger crown than the one he already wore. Both the people around him and those on the other side of the bridge bowed to him.

It held no meaning to her. There was no way she could have ever truly believed that the King would interpret this dream as a sign of his kingdom growing. But he did. And it happened again, and again. Every dream she shared seemed to follow a chance for Ecbert to expand his lands. And now, he ruled over the largest kingdom in England.

She had never wanted to believe that she had prophetic dreams. And she didn't want to believe it now. If she did, then the Devil really was her lover, and she didn't have a soul.

That thought terrified her. Was her destiny to be a dark creature? An empty one, causing pain and despair? Did she really have no soul? What would become of her when death came? Was she condemned to Hell?

But I have done nothing, she kept repeating to herself. She always did what her family expected of her, what the Lord had taught them to learn. She had done nothing to be hated like this.

And yet, that raven... that raven had scared her. The feeling it left behind terrified her even more.

"Why are you looking so pensive?" Eadgifu's voice made her look up from her needlework. Her sister was having her new dress fixed by the hands of Hilda. It was a gown of pale pink that matched perfectly with her sister's skin. On Eadgifu's face there was an excited smile as she observed herself in the mirror. "Are you worried about the feast of tomorrow night?"

Selethryth found herself smiling bitterly. She really wished that her mind could fix on those things, pretty dresses and feasts to meet suitors, but her mind kept coming back to the raven. The sadness that she felt in her dream, and the fear she had felt during the entire day.

"There's no reason to," Selethryth answered, meeting her sister's gaze through the glass, "You, however, must be excited."

Eadgifu's smile grew larger, "Mother said I'm ready to wed." She said with a dreamy expression. Marriage had always been her sister's greatest dream as they grew up.

"I'm sure you'll find an honorable man," Selethryth's words were enough to make Hilda look at her with unspoken fear. But Eadgifu didn't notice, as she giggled again.

"And handsome as well, I hope," she said before turning to Selethryth. "You could meet someone as well," Eadgifu insisted, but Selethryth looked down at her needlework again, with a little shake of her head.

"Only the Lord knows what plans He has for me," she said, folding the needle between her fingers. "For now, I must wait until He speaks through Father's mouth."

Eadgifu regarded her with a sad look, "Father knows that you'll have to wed, it is a woman's duty." Selethryth would have liked to ask her if it was the Witch of Wessex's duty as well. But she decided against it. Smiling at her sister to keep on with her needlework.

She was in the right age to marry, to be looking for a husband at least. But it was never the time. Lord Godric loved his high position at King Ecbert's court, but his presence was required because Selethryth was there. If she was to marry and leave for her husband's lands, what would become of Lord Godric? He would have to return to his own dark castle, and the king's attentions would be long forgotten. That, of course, if she would ever find a man daring enough to not be scared of superstitions. But Selethryth wasn't sure of it.

That night, her sleep had a form again, vivid as if she were awake.

Selethryth found herself standing at the edge of a vast and frozen lake, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting a stormy sky above. The wind howled through the barren trees at the lake's edge, their branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal hands, clawing at the air. The whole landscape felt dead, as if the world itself were holding its breath. The cold bit deep into her skin, and she shivered, but there was no warmth, no shelter to be found.

In the distance, two figures appeared, walking toward her across the frozen expanse. One was tall, shrouded in shadow, his form hidden beneath a dark cloak, but a raven flew beside him—its wings cutting through the air with a steady, rhythmic beat. The raven's presence felt both ominous and powerful, like a harbinger of change. The figure walked with a slow, deliberate pace, as if burdened by the weight of years, yet still possessing a quiet strength. He was the older figure, the one who had lived through much, but was now nearing the end of his journey.

The second figure was on the ground, but he radiated intensity. He slithered on the floor fast and urgent, almost as though he were driven by an unseen force. He seemed to move with a fury that contrasted sharply with the calmness of the first figure. His eyes, burning like blue fire, glinted with a sharpness that cut through the dim light. There was something in his gaze that was both haunting and intense, as though he had been touched by something beyond this world. His path was not one of peace, but of revenge.

As the figures drew closer, the sky above began to darken. The raven circling the older figure let out a sharp cry, and in an instant, a bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens, splitting the sky in two. The older figure stumbled, his cloak billowing around him, and fell to the ground. A cloud of shadow seemed to rise from the earth, swirling around him, until he was lost within it. The raven disappeared into the night, and the storm that had raged above seemed to swallow him whole.

But then, the second figure—the one with the burning blue eyes—stood tall, his face drawn in a fierce expression of grief and anger. He lifted his arms to the sky, and a great thunderclap followed, shaking the earth beneath her feet. He called out, his voice full of pain and rage, but also a powerful resolve. The sky above him seemed to tremble, as though the very heavens themselves were answering his cry. The storm intensified, lightning flashing with increasing frequency, each strike illuminating his face, now set in a mask of vengeance.

The power of the storm—the grief in his eyes—struck something deep within her, even if she could not quite understand the reason. She wanted to reach out, but the storm raged too fiercely, and the dream began to fade, pulling her back into the dark void. Her eyes shot open, and she realized she had been crying.

******

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year ago

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Who fell first and who fell harder

Ragnar: You fell first but he fell harder.

Athelstan: He fell first and harder.

Floki: You fell first and harder.

Lagertha: You fell first but she fell harder.

Aslaug: She fell first and harder.

Bjorn: You fell first but he fell harder.

Ubbe: He fell first but you fell harder.

Hvitserk: He fell first and harder.

Sigurd: He fell first but you fell harder.

Ivar: You fell first but he fell harder.

Halfdan: You fell first and harder.

Harald: He fell first and harder.

#ragnar lothbrok x reader #lagertha x reader #aslaug x reader #bjorn ironside x reader #ubbe x reader #hvitserk x reader #sigurd x reader #ivar x reader #halfdan x reader #harald x reader #vikings #vikings imagines #athelstan x reader #floki x reader

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fandomnsfw · 2 years ago

Text

The HalfBreed - Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Pairing: Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Prompt: a request from @alisha-jade

Warnings: smut, cheating (on Aslaug so is it really though), breeding kink, slight asphyxiation not much.

no beta again so spelling errors may occur feel free to message me if anything is too bad!

ENJOY!!

******

You stared in fascination as your father brought Ragnar and his group into the castle. They were a brash bunch but you couldn’t help your fascination as they began shouting and laughing at the fear in the Christian’s eyes.

You peeked around the corner of the dining hall that was also the throne room. Suddenly your fathers eyes shot up to meet yours. He rolled his eyes and beckoned you out of hiding spot.

You strolled over to him with grace only a princess could hold. Your red dress swaying slightly as you came to a stop. All the mens eyes were on you and a few were making crude jokes clearly not realising you spoke their language.

“I think even in your villages it isn’t proper to talk about a princess like that. Am I wrong?” You spoke in there home tongue making them all pause even the beautiful blonde woman that was sat with them.

“You speak our language?” The blonde woman asked.

“That is what happens when your a halfbreed. Right Father?” You spat at his kingdoms most frequent words for you.

“Your part Viking?” Ragnar asked with an amused smile.

“Yes my mother was a shield maiden. My father took an interest on many years ago when she was washed up on our shores.” You answered honestly as your father smiled at the memory of your mother.

“I see.” The blonde woman chuckled as she watched Ragnar stare at you intently.

“So which gods or god do you believe in?” A wide eyed, slender man asked his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“I do not worship their false god if that is what you are asking.” You paused not knowing his name.

“Floki.” He stated his eyes still narrowed like he didn’t believe you.

“Hmm…You remind me of the god Loki.” You stated with a grin as his eyes widened.

“I think he is Loki.” Ragnar whispered making me giggle which seemed to make the older man happy.

“You must be Ragnar’s wife then. Lagertha?” You stated as you looked at the beautiful woman.

“Ex-Wife.” She scoffed making you catch the smile that made it’s way to your lips.

“I see. It doesn’t seem to matter where men are from. They are all brash and unfaithful bastards.” You snorted causing everyone to start laughing especially the shield maiden.

“I like her.” Lagertha gave a pointed look to Ragnar who rolled his eyes.

You nudged your father on his excessively large seat at the head of the table. He sighed but moved up so you could sit down next to him.

You gave him a sweet smile which made him laugh before kissing your head softly. You were your fathers favourite and everyone knew that. Especially your brother who hated you with a passion.

“So did your mother train you in anything else?” A big man with long wavy hair asked carefully as he sipped his ale looking at Ragnar who nodded in interest.

“If you asking if I could take your head off with a sword then the answer is yes. You are Rollo yes?” You asked softly making him clear his throat as he sat up straight.

“My father has told me a lot about your spree around England with Ragnar.” You commented making him nod quietly in response.

You father understood a little of their langue because you had taught him but instead of joining in he allowed you to socialise with your fellow pagan’s.

Everyone ate and enjoyed each other company before finally your father rand Ragnar began talking about there deal. You rolled you eyes before blocking your father view of Ragnar.

“I want to go with them.” You stated as he stared up at you with sad eyes.

“Y/N my sweet rose you really want to leave your poor father?” He asked softly his sadness radiating through his small smile.

“Father you have your successor and I shall visit when I can. I want to fight! I wanna fall in love with someone who believes what I do.” You sighed in your fathers home language making Ragnar look at you.

“I understand child. I will see to it then…I love you my little rose.” He whispered the last part in your ear making you smile fondly and return his sentiment.

“Ragnar. I have another term for our deal, I ask you take my daughter with you when you return to your home. She wishes to be with her people.” Your father asked gently making Ragnar nod in understanding.

“Princess Y/N wishes to come back to Kattegat with us.” Ragnar announced in his home tongue causing everyone to stop there chatter.

“We are not taking another Christian home with us Ragnar.” A gruff man in the group scoffed and before anyone said anything there was a knife flying through the air straight passed his ear to the throne room door.

He touched his ear to find in bleeding before standing up and starting towards you. You jumped up, lifting your skirt you could take out your other knife. He got in your face like he was about to beat you but you put your knife to his intimate area.

“Do NOT call me a Christian. I will cut off your tiny little friend and feed it to my wolf.” You spat in his ear before he finally got the point and backed away.

“We will take her back.” You had expected Ragnar or maybe even Lagertha so say these words however you had not expected Floki to say it.

“Thank you.” Your father said in their language so they’d all understand.

******

You stared in amazement as you saw the village come into view as you absently petted your dark grey wolf. People were flocking to the docks waiting for there loved ones or congratulate people along you smile as you glanced at Ragnar who was staring at you.

“Is there something on my face Ragnar?” You chuckled making him smile.

“You are very beautiful.” He stated mischievously as he stepped closer.

“Don’t you have a wife waiting for you?” You replied teasingly.

“As my ex wife would say. That never stopped me before.” Ragnar chuckled as the boat pulled up.

“I see well maybe you should come visit me once I am settled.” You whispered in his ear before hopping of the boat with the help of Floki. You kissed Floki’s cheek before he bid you goodbye and rushed off your see his Helga.

“And who might you be?” A tall slender woman asked with a bright smile.

“You are dressed like a Christian yet our Floki does not treat you as such.” She added as Ragnar hopped off the boat following after you.

“This is my wife. Aslaug.” Ragnar introduced like he hadn’t just been trying to bed you.

“I see Lagertha has told me a lot about you.” You replied sweetly but she could sense the unsaid words that you did not like her.

“I see.” She muttered with a fake smile.

“Rollo said he would show me where I could stay so I will see you later Ragnar.” You said to the blue eyed man with a smirk on your face.

“Of course princess. I look forward to seeing you at the hall.” He chuckled, his hand brushing across your lower back as Rollo approached you.

Rollo grabbed your belongings hauling them up with ease as you stared at his muscles contracting. Viking men were built different and it honestly had your stomach clenching in need. These men could easily throw you about like you were a rag doll.

You follow at his side as your wolf Shadow followed closely behind you, staring at people as we passed them. Everyone seemed wary of him but you ignored there looks and stroked his fur as you walked.

“I see my brother has taken an interest in you.” Rollo snorted as we approached a little hut.

“Hmm, perhaps but if I was to bed him the main reason would be because I don’t like his wife. I believe women who like to reck happy homes are witches that need a taste of their own medicine.” You chuckled making Rollo laugh whole heartedly.

“Your honestly is refreshing. You remind me of Lagertha back when she was your age.” He chuckled softly as he got a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You love her.” You stated softly as he lowered you belongs to the floor in the corner of the hut.

“Yes but she has never seen me like that. As long as I can fight with her I can accept that.” He sighed quietly making you smile.

“You’re a sweet man when you want to be Rollo. Maybe if you showed her this side she may change her mind. Women like Lagertha are independent and don’t need a man but that does not mean they don’t want one. Do you know her favourite food or drink?” You asked casually as you began to take your belongings out of the gold and wooden chest Rollo had brought in for you.

“Yes.” He answered curiously before sitting down on a bench that was in the hut.

“Well when we go to the great hall maybe bring her some food and a drink. Don’t say anything just sit next to her quietly maybe even converse with people around you.” You answered sweetly as you dug out your gold and jewels.

“That seems a little simple.” He huffed with an eye roll.

“Women love when a man knows them. Think of it like Shadow my wolf would. When he wishes to mate he brings his female food and provides comfort for them.” You stated simply as you ran your finger through his fur.

“I see.” He nodded in understanding before glancing at your wolf.

“He seems rather large even for a wolf.”he commented as he stared at the giant dark grey wolf that came up to Rollo a waist meaning he was up to your shoulder.

“I know I have no idea why but I’ve had him since he was a pup. I found him in the woods when I was training. It was snowy and cold. His mother was dead next to him along with two other pups who were dead. They’d starved and then frozen by the looks of it but shadow was smart he caught a squirrel and then burrowed underneath his mother and sister. I buried his family and took him home.” You answered sweetly as Shadow nuzzled into your hand.

“He’s very loyal to you. Most wolves prefer to stay in their own territory but he happily followed you here.” Rollo added before he stood up causing the bench you were both sat on to rattle under you.

You let out a laugh making him roll his eyes once again before he set off to the great hall. You took your jewels and started towards a stall you’d seen on your way here that sold clothes.

Once there you looked through the clothes before picking out a few things and asking the shop keeper how much. She stared at you with a frown before looking down at the gold with wide eyes.

“This is too much miss.” She stated as she tried to pass you it back.

“I know but I very much like your clothes and you work hard on them I can tell. Even my royal seamstress wasn’t that good.” You chuckled making her flush slightly as she gave you a nod.

“If you would like I could braid your hair for you after you change. You are going to the great hall for the celebration?” She offered kindly making you smile brightly.

You knew how to braid but not as well as the shield maidens so it was nice to have the offer which you gratefully took. She asked you what it was like to grow up around people in England and you asked her some tips on braiding it was pleasant and a lot different from any interactions you’d had with anyone in Wessex.

People may have not said much to your face as you are a princess but that didn’t stop you over hearing the horrible things people said behind your back.

You gave her your thanks and left the old dress with her telling her she could reuse it for whatever she wished. You collected Shadow from the hut before making your way to the Great hall with directions from a few people.

You opened the doors to the great hall your wolf at your side as everyone stared before Floki ran up to you with a childish giggle. He dragged you over to meet Helga who was sweet and very calm compared to her lover.

Rollo sat down next to you but not before passing Lagertha a drink of something and food. You smiled at the action as he engaged you in conversation. Lagertha looked shocked at the action but chose to eat her food and drink from her cup as she kept side eyeing Rollo.

“Well I’m glad you could make it Princess.” Ragnar’s voice stated behind you causing your wolf to growl as you jumped.

“Settle boy.” You whispered to him as he laid back down at your feet.

“It appears your wolf does not like me.” He huffed playfully as he took a seat next to your other side.

“Maybe he can sense you devious intentions Ragnar Lothbrok.” You giggled making him smile down at you, his ocean blue eyes shining with there usual mischief.

“Would you like a tour of our lovely Kattegat?” He asks suddenly and his wife’s eyes found yours with a glare.

“Hmm I would love to.” You answered sweetly, not taking your eyes off Aslaug.

You stood up but as you wolf started to follow, you told him to stay making him whine. You rolled your eyes before pointing to Floki.

“Go sit with Floki.” You instructed and he glanced at the man before huffing and walking over to him. Floki stroked his fur as he waved at you to go.

You were walking beside Ragnar for a few minutes before he moved slightly closer his arm brushing against yours. The white long sleeved dressed was comfortable in the slightly nicer weather Kattegat was experiencing. The dark brown detail down the front was pretty and you were happy to not be wearing the heavy dresses you’d worn as a princess.

“You seem to be fitting in very well.” Ragnar spoke suddenly causing you to jolt a little.

“Everyone is nice here. It makes a difference from how people treat me in Wessex.” You chuckled as you looked at the small beach in front of you.

“You were a Princess, how badly could they of treat you.” Ragnar asked sceptically.

“Men were disgusted by me. Women were afraid of me. To my face they would acted accordingly however I overheard a few things they would say about me behind the kings back…behind mine. They would call me a witch, say the only bride I could ever be was Satans which by the way is an angel that was kicked out of his heaven and banished to run hell, which is full of demons and people that have sinned.” You rolled your eyes making Ragnar laugh wholeheartedly.

“Yes Athelstan told me much about Christianity. I believe everyone should worship who they want. I believe in my gods and Athelstan believes in his one god. We are friends despite that.” Ragnar replied with honesty his face serious as he looked down at his boots.

“I believe the same.” You replied softly as you took off your boots before stepping onto the sand with your bare feet.

Ragnar followed your lead, taking off his shoes before stepping onto the sand. He caught up to you his hand coming to rest on your lower back as you contrived strolling, watching the sea.

His hand felt warm on your lower back, as his eyes gazed at you. You could feel it as it sent shivers down your spine. He shifted a little closer to you, his hand curling around your hip before pulling him close.

You were pressed against his side as you finally stopped moving down the beach. You could feel his eyes on you as if trying to see your reactions to his sudden closeness.

“Do you love your wife Ragnar?” You suddenly asked making his eye widen though his hands did not move from your hips they weren’t gripping so tightly.

“I thought I did however I think I love that she has given me many sons.” He answered honestly his eyes staring into the darkness that covered the sea.

“I see.” You replied with a small smile.

“I could make you my second wife but I tried that with Lagertha and she left me.” Ragnar sighed softly making you smile.

“I am not surprised Ragnar I would’ve have left too. I have no desire to be your wife Ragnar. If you would like to take me back to my hut and fuck me though, I could definitely agree to that.” You whispered seductively before walking ahead of him towards your hut.

The walk wasn’t long and once the door closed to your hut Ragnar was on you. His right hand tangled in your hair, his lips were on yours as his left hand grabbed your waist pulling your closer.

His tongue stroked across yours gently yet passionately causing you to moan into his mouth his hands immediately trying to rip off your dress. You’d slapped his hands, pulling away from his lips with a grin.

“Do not rip my new dress Ragnar.” You chuckled softly as you untied the brown leather belt and let it fall to the floor before lifting the white dress over your head and putting it on your chest.

Ragnar took in your naked form appreciatively as he began stripping. His body was covered with a light amount of hair and muscle definition that you’d never seen on the English men you’d slept with.

He was built like a beast and it made you clench around nothing, dampness making its way down your thighs. He finally stripped and was back on you, his hands immediately reaching for the back of your thighs to lift you up and laying you on the cold wooden table behind you.

His lips pressed wet, harsh kisses down your sternum nipping at the skin occasionally. Your soft pants and moans filling the air as you stared down at his very clearly hard member. He was big, bigger than you’d had before.

Ragnar kissed your hip bone before nipping at it the sensation causing a shiver to run down your spine and a deep sultry moan to erupt from your chest. He glanced up at you with a smirk before he continued his path.

When his lips pressed a kiss right above your slit you were desperate making you thrust upwards to try to get any kind of friction you could. However Ragnar decided hat wasn’t acceptable and slapped the inside of your thigh causing a shocking amount of pleasure.

“Stay still. Naughty girl.” He scolded softly before looking up to see your reaction to his slap.

You flushed under his gaze as you avoided his eyes. Was that normal? To react like that to being slapped, you thought anxiously. Ragnar’s hands grabbed your hips tightly before he flipped you over so you were bent over the table.

Before you could question it his hand came down on your ass the sound ringing through the hut. You whimpered, spreading your legs a little so you could push backwards, rubbing against his member.

“Dirty girl.” Was all Ragnar said before thrusting two fingers inside of your warm wet heat with no warning.

You let out a startled moan before pushing back onto his fingers eagerly. His free hand massaged the ass cheek he’d just slapped before delivering another one making you moan desperately against him.

“Ragnar!” You moaned loudly as his fingers started hitting inside you at a different angle causing you to dig your nails into the table beneath you.

“W-What is that?” You whined softly, trying to push back against his finger.

“I don’t know but I like to call it the magic button.” Ragnar chuckled before thrusting into that spot again.

“Oh fuck.”

Your moans were getting louder as they filled the hut, your stomach tensing as it prepared to unravel that amazing feeling you’d only had once or twice. Ragnar’s fingers sped up as he continued his assault on that magic button.

“Cum for me sweet girl.” Ragnar whispered before his tongue was on your hooded bundle of nerves.

The angle was awkward for Ragnar it he didn’t care as his tongue lavished you, his finger still never stopping. You clenched around them as his hand came down once against to slap your left ass cheek.

“Oh fuck Ragnar!” You screamed as you finally came around his fingers, your face pressed against the table as you hair splayed messily around you some of it over your face.

“You taste addictive.” He mumbled against you, giving you one last long lick before pulling away from your heat with a wicked smile on his face.

“You ready my little vixen.” He whispered as he bent over you, his lips tickling against your ear.

“Mhmm. You gonna fill me up Ragnar? Want you to.” You moaned, your tone needy but quiet.

Suddenly he thrust into you with no warning just like he had with hi fingers before, causing you to push your back against his naked chest as you pushed him so far in your swore your felt him in your stomach. Your hands gripped his hands that were clutching your hips in an almost painful grip.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. Want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm fuck you so good and full.” He growled in your ear one of his hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not quite squeezing it just resting there.

You felt so dazed from your previous orgasm and his words all you could do was nod to his teasing question. His hand squeezed softly as he continued fucking you slowly but hard.

“Ah ah. Use yours words sweet girl.” He scolded his hand around your throat tightening again so most of your air supply was gone.

You should’ve been scared but it only served to bring you closer to anther orgasm. You turned you face to look him in the eyes as you finally opened your mouth to speak. He released his grip but never moved his hand as he stared at you expectantly.

“Want you to fill me up. Fuck me full with your babies.” You moaned, your head leaning against his collarbone.

“Fuck. I have many sons. You gonna give me more darling?” He asked as his thrusting started getting faster and more rough.

“You gonna drop everything when I’m big and fat to fuck me when I need your cock?” You moaned as you threw your arm up to grasp at his hair as his tightened around your throat again.

“I’d drop everything to fuck your pretty little flower sweetheart. Mmm you feel so good can wait until your pregnant and desperate for me all the time.” He groaned against your neck his hand on your hip coming around to wrap around your waist tightly as he began pounding into you at an animalistic pace.

“Oh fuck! Yes!” You screamed loudly as you felt yourself clenching round him as you felt yourself at the edge once again.

His cock was drilling into that special spot that made you see stars, his thrusting becoming less calculated as he neared his end too. You tugged at his braided hair moaning his name as he tightened his grip on your throat and waist.

“Shit. So close.” He moaned in your ear as he brought his hand from your waist to your wet heat, his fingers massaging your little bundle of nerves.

“Cum for me Ragnar fill me up with your seed.” You moaned loudly before kissing him passionately.

Finally you felt your orgasm rip through you like lightening, your eyes falling shut as you pushed back against him, riding out your high as he finally came too. His hot seed filling you up so much you could feel it.

You didn’t get long to enjoy the aftermath as Ragnar flipped you back over and held you legs up in the air, your knees rest over his shoulders.

“Stay still sweet girl. Gotta make sure you stay filled up with me.” He groaned as he looked down at your abused hole.

You giggled at his actions but made no move to stand up, letting him have his way. You were starting to realised there wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t give to him.

After sometime he finally moved to wipe any spillage with a rag. You gave him a stuttered moan as he gave you a single lick his eyes filled with mischief.

“Beautiful.” He whispered before helping you up.

He didn’t leave immediately instead he pulled your firs over in front of the fireplace before starting a fire and laying down beckoning you over.

“Your wife isn’t going to be happy.” You chuckled as you cuddled into his chest.

“Yes well I don’t much care.” He chuckled his hair undoing you braids gently, letting your hair fall free around your naked shoulders.

BANG!

“Y/N it worked she-” Rollo paused in his words as he took in your naked form cuddled up to his brother.

“Never mind we can talk tomorrow.” He snorted as he sent you a subtle wink.

“And what was that about my little vixen.” He asked in amusement.

“I may of given him tips on how to seduce your ex wife.” You smirked at him making him roll his eyes before placing a kiss on your lips.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised. Now come here, gonna fill you up again pretty girl.” Ragnar growled playfully making you giggle under him.

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