#ragnar ragnarsson x you

[fantasydreamland]

Answered Prayers

ragnar lothbrok x fem reader

Summary: After being captured by the Vikings your prayers to god remain unanswered, as you come to realize they always have. An intriguing Viking man teaches you of their ways, and all your prayers are answered. (No language barrier & Ragnar is unmarried for the sake of the story).

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, maybe some fluff, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f), angst, kidnapping/violence/raiding in opening story, possible spoilers.

I’m very into Norse spirituality so I loved writing this

Word count: 3.7k

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Everyone in the city moves in a panic as the bells ring, alarms in response to the Northmen pulling up to your shores. You find a spot in your house to hide and clutch your cross close to your chest as you pray to god to protect you from these heathens.

A bang startles you as a Viking man kicks down your door. Your heart races as you hear him tearing apart the house searching for valuables. You hear screams outside and continue whispering prayers to god begging him to keep you from being found.

The Viking eventually finds you hiding in a corner between your bed and the wall. Your heart stops when his bright blue eyes meet yours. His eyes examine you from head to toe before he smirks.

“Please… please don’t kill me.” You beg through oncoming tears. “Take whatever you want, just please.”

“Come.” He reaches his hand out for you to take.

You look up at him with furrowed brows in confusion.

“You said I can take whatever I want.” The man says. “So come.”

“No, no, please. Please don’t hurt me…” You cry.

“If you come with me, I will have no reason to hurt you.” He steps closer. “Otherwise…” He gestures to the axe in his hand.

You sniffle as you get up onto your feet. The Viking gestures his hand out to you again which you reluctantly take. He rushes out of the house, dragging you along with him. A small shriek escapes you as your eyes take in the dead bodies and blood everywhere. The man pays no mind to any of it as he pulls you through the city and leads you right out the front gates and into their Viking camp.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A large Viking man with long dark hair approaches you. You pull away as he tries to brush hair from your face.

“Leave her be.” Your captor says as more of the men come over to ogle at you.

“Why? She is a useless Christian. Only good for one thing...” The man smirks at you.

“She is mine, keep your hands to yourself Rollo.” Your captor replies. “That goes for all of you! No one touches her, she belongs to me.”

You take a small breath of relief before your captor grabs your hand again and leads you far from the group and into a tent.

“Sit.” The man gestures to a small cot. “What is your name?”

“(y/n).” You say as you sit.

“(y/n)…” He hums. “Interesting name. I’m Ragnar Lothbrok.”

“Thank you Ragnar.” You say lowly.

“For what?”

“Out there, protecting me from the other men…” You respond. “And I guess… thank you for not killing me.”

“Like I said to the men, you are mine. They will not harm you as long as you are with me, understand?”

You nod your head.

“What are you going to do with me?” You ask.

He smirks in response before looking you up and down, making you nervous.

“I have not decided yet.” He shrugs with a smirk still on his face.

**********

The journey back to their land was long and dreadful. You had never been on a boat before and the ride made you nauseous. Ragnar kept a close eye on you and made sure no one bothered you.

As soon as they dock Ragnar quickly sneaks you away like he is trying to hide you. He leads you to his small farmhouse outside of town.

“Am I your slave now?” You ask once inside.

He laughs at your response and you scowl.

“I have no need for slaves.” He shrugs.

“If you wish to cook or clean for me, or do other things…” He smirks at you suggestively, making you blush. “I would certainly not object, but you will not be forced to do anything.”

“So I am not a slave… but I am not a free woman?” You question.

“Yes.” He simply responds.

“Then why am I here?”

“I do not know. The gods have not revealed your purpose to me yet.”

“There is only one god.” You say sternly.

He laughs again making anger rise in your cheeks.

“Maybe your god will reveal to you your purpose then.” He says teasingly.

**********

The next couple days were surprisingly peaceful. You did not dare to try and leave the house. Although he never asked you to, you cooked and cleaned mostly to have something to occupy your time but Ragnar appreciated you either way. He would disappear for most of the day to god knows where, but when he returned you would have a hot meal waiting for him.

Ragnar would ask many questions, about your life and your god. You asked about him in return and he told you all about his adventures and of his gods.

“Are you a virgin?” Ragnar asks out of nowhere while you are eating supper.

You choke on your drink, the question taking you off guard.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you are unmarried right?” He continues. “I have heard Christians remain virgins until they are married.”

“Well, um, yes. It would be a sin otherwise.” You respond shyly.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it a sin?” He asks with curiosity in his tone.

“I- um, I don’t know. It’s just a sin. You should only make children with your husband or wife.”

“Well, that is a bit silly isn’t it?”

“What is so ‘silly’ about that?” You scowl.

“Because making children is not the only reason to have sex.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean?” You ask, heat rising in your cheeks from annoyance and another feeling you couldn’t quite place.

“Do they teach you nothing?” He raises his brow.

“Not really… especially us women. They keep us sheltered from everything.”

“Well,” He says, taking the food bowl from your hands and placing it down.

He leans towards you until his breath brushes your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“Sex can provide you with the greatest of pleasures…” He says lowly in your ear, your heart races. “If you know where to touch.” His fingers graze up your knee.

“Your gods… they do not care if you sin?” You ask but it comes out as a whisper.

He chuckles.

“To our gods, it is not wrong. The gods gave us the gift of such pleasure, why would they deny us from taking it?” He shrugs.

“I guess that is true…” You whisper.

“I can show you our ways, if you want.” He says with a devilish grin, moving his hand back to your knee.

“What? No. No I- Um, no… thank you.” You stutter, taken aback by his offer.

“Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me.” He whispers in your ear before standing and cleaning up from supper.

You go to bed early, trying to hide your flushed cheeks since your conversation. Ragnar eventually begins to lightly snore from the next room that was only separated by a thin wall with gaps you could see through. His words replay in your head, “greatest of pleasures if you know where to touch.”. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lightly trace your fingers along your neck and collarbone, the feeling creating goosebumps. Without even realizing, you start imagining Ragnar’s hand as yours travels lower. You grab onto your breast before your hand continues down. Your fingers tease at the hem of your pants before slowly moving down into them. You lightly touch the sensitive skin and it sends a jolt through you making you gasp louder than intended. You hear Ragnar stir in the next room and you quickly pull your hand from your pants as you look to him, still asleep. You sigh and try to get comfortable to sleep. Everything that has happened within the last few days has left you so lost and confused. You have been praying to god every day but nothing changes, nothing reassures you and what you are supposed to do in this place. Your mind continues to race until sleep eventually pulls you under.

**********

“I would like to go into the mountain to pray.” You say to Ragnar.

“Why? So you can run away?” He gives you a teasing scoff.

You can’t hide the small laugh that escapes your lips.

“You know I would not make it very far without you.” You roll your eyes at him. “Besides, I need you to show me the way.”

“Alright then… perhaps tomorrow.” He shrugs.

“No, today.” You push. “Right now… please.”

You were desperate to have a moment of solitude and a private moment speak to god.

“Very well, we should go now while the sun is still high.” Ragnar says as he heads towards the door, you stand and follow after him.

He leads you up the hills of the forest until you reach a clearing facing the water. The stunning view took your breath away.

“I… I need to be alone.” You say to Ragnar.

“Do not try to escape.” He winks at you. “I will be just down this hill when you are done.”

You give him a grateful smile and you watch him walk away until he is out of sight. Turning back to face the edge of the cliff, you close your eyes take a deep breath as you feel the breeze brush across your face. You crouch to the ground onto your knees and bring your hands together in prayer.

“Heavenly father… Please help me to find my path. I feel so lost in this unfamiliar world and do not know what I am to do next or who I am meant to be now… And I feel… as if my prayers to protect and watch over me have gone unanswered, especially when I was taken by these people.” You pray with tears coming to your eyes. “Please god, if you are there, if you are watching over me… if you are real… please send me a sign.”

You open your eyes and watch for any sort of sign that your god is with you. Nothing happens.

“Please, give me any sign so I know you are watching over me as I have always believed.”

You wait again, and wait, and wait. The world was still, not even a stronger gust of wind to show a possible sign from god.

You drop your hands into your lap in defeat. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks until an idea crosses your mind. You breathe out a laugh to yourself feeling a bit silly for what you were about to try. You bring your hands back together but instead have a strange urge to connect to the earth. You bow, reaching your hands forward into the ground, feeling the dirt and grass between your fingers.

“Odin…” You close your eyes and begin, whispering so quietly it’s nearly silent. “Freyja… Thor… Please hear me. Hear my prayers. Help me, guide me, to who I am supposed to be now… what I am supposed to do.”

Suddenly, a raven lets out a loud ‘caw’ startling you. Your head shoots up and you look to the bird watching you from a rock to your side. Your heart races and your eyes go wide as you watch each other. A tickle on your hand makes you look down to see a white butterfly that landed on you. You lift your hand to admire it and it flies around your head before flying away, at the same time the raven flies off with it.

As your brain tries to comprehend the unmistakeable signs that the pagan gods are answering your prayers, you hear a rumble of thunder. The skies turn grey within a matter of seconds before rain suddenly begins to pour down. You stand and let out a laugh of disbelief as you spread your arms wide and look to the sky as you let out a heavy breath of relief. The rain washed over your entire being, cleansing you of your troubles. It felt like a different kind of baptism, a rebirth.

“(y/n)?” You hear Ragnar call from behind you.

You turn to him with a wide smile on your face. He noted how beautiful you were when you smiled like that, he realized he had never seen more than a faint one cross your lips.

“Are you alright?” He smiles back at you. “We should head back. Thor’s wrath may become brutal soon if we remain all the way out here.”

“No, he is speaking to me.” You smile, making Ragnar’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Your gods… the gods…” You continue. “They answered my prayers…”

“So, suddenly you believe in our gods now?” He teases. “And what of your god?”

“The Christian god has never answered my prayers. Never even given a small sign he is with me.” You explain. “I prayed to Odin, and a raven appeared… Freyja, a white butterfly landed on my hand the same moment… and Thor…” You gesture to the skies the rain continues to pour down from.

You walk closer to Ragnar.

“I want to teach me your ways…” You say lowly.

“All of our ways?” He smirks, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“All of your ways…” You say as you move even closer until your noses brush.

He traces his finger up your neck, making you shiver. His finger continues to move along your jaw before he gently lifts your chin, making your eyes meet his piercing blue ones. “Are you sure about that?” He says with his classic devilish smirk.

Instead of responding you bring your lips to his, which was answer enough. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back hungrily, a small growl escaping him. He cups your cheeks as the rain pours down on you both, the kiss is wet and passionate. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you let him take the lead, following along a little awkwardly. His hands move from your face down to your hips as he pulls you against him. The hardness pushing against your stomach makes you gasp.

“Do you wish to return to the house…” Ragnar whispers, against your lips before kissing you again.

“No… I want you to take me right here… under the eyes of Thor and all the gods watching over us…” You whisper back, bringing your hand to his cheek.

Your words light a fire in Ragnar as your eyes meet in an intense gaze. He reaches out and begins to slowly pull at the strings of your dress. His eyes watch yours carefully, as if daring you to stop him. You would do no such thing. Once the ties were loose you let him pull the dress off your shoulders, completely exposing your breasts. They instantly perk up in the cold chill of the rain, droplets of water falling down your skin. A moan escapes you as he leans down and takes one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nipple. Your entire body felt aflame. You welcomed every cold raindrop that touches your heated skin.

His sinful tongue continues to explore down your stomach until he’s on his knees in front of you. You look down at him with lust filled eyes as pulls down the skirts of your dress, leaving you completely bare for him. His gaze meets yours as he squeezes your thighs hard and gives you a smirk.

“Ragnar what are you-“

Your words are cut off when his tongue licks your most intimate area. You gasp and whine as he begins to messily eat you. Your legs shake and wobble as you try to hold onto his shoulders.

“Ragnar I can’t…” You breathe.

He could sense you were barely able to hold yourself up. In one swift movement he hooks your legs over his shoulders and you yelp as he lifts you up. His tongue does not stop working at your bundle of nerves as he walks you over to a tree. You lean your back against the rough bark. The feeling of him was so overwhelming that you hardly felt the tree scratching at your skin. He ate you ravenously like a man starved. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, he grunts against you in response. You pant as you look up to the grey rainy skies, the entire moment felt like a dream. A knot begins to tighten in your stomach and your vision starts to blur. Ragnar dips his tongue into your entrance and that is your undoing. You scream out as your thighs squeeze tightly around his head. You would be worried about hurting him but you could swear you felt him grinning against you as his tongue works you through your orgasm.

Ragnar carefully lowers you back to the ground, you feel both your body and your mind come back down to earth. You shiver as he lays you down on the cold wet ground. He removes his now soaked shirt before climbing over you and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, you moan at the taste yourself as your tongues dance together.

He stands again to quickly remove his pants, your eyes widen at his length before he climbs back on top of you.

“Are you certain?” Ragnar asks lowly, noticing your worried expression.

“Yes but… I don’t think it will fit…” You whisper shyly.

He gives a cocky chuckle before he begins kissing on your neck.

“It will.” He mumbles against your skin.

You feel him rub his length against your core making you whine and buck your hips in response.

“So eager.” He smirks.

He slowly begins pushing in making you grimace in pain. You instantly question his reassurance that it will fit.

“Shh,” Ragnar tries to soothe you.

His lips move back to your neck kissing, sucking and biting, trying his best to distract you from the pain. You moan at the feeling before he pushes right through the barrier and you gasp loudly. Ragnar groans loudly as he feels you squeezing tightly around him like a vice. You pant heavily with tears in your eyes as you adjust to his size. He does not move until you’re ready, then he starts pushing in and out slowly. The pain soon fades and you wrap your legs around him, forcing him deeper into you.

“Please…” You breathe out.

“Please what?” Ragnar whispers directly in your ear, making you shudder.

“More…”

“More what?” He teases you.

“Ragnar, please.” You groan in frustration. “Faster. Harder. Give me more.”

He smirks before finally obliging your wishes and starts pounding into you relentlessly. You quickly begin to see stars as your second orgasm washes over you and you cry out his name. Ragnar slows his pace once you have hit your peak.

“So this is…” You pant. “This is how Vikings… fuck?”

“We fuck however we want to.” He says as he kisses your neck, still hard inside you. “Viking women enjoy riding their men like wild horses.” He mumbles against your skin, like a challenge.

“Then I shall do that…” You say as you sit up and force Ragnar onto his back.

Ragnar’s eyes widen as you move to straddle him.

“I shall ride you like a wild horse.” You look down and meet his eyes, fire in your eyes and a devilish smirk on your lips. “I shall fuck you like a true Viking woman.”

He does not take his eyes off you for one second as you start to sink back down onto his cock, causing your mouth to drop at the feeling. Being new to all of this, you awkwardly try to bounce up and down until Ragnar grips your hips and guides you to move them back and forth.

“Oh…” You moan, eyes rolling back.

You follow his direction and rock your hips back and forth, increasing the speed. The position sends tingles through your entire body. Ragnar watches you in amazement, taking in every inch of your wet naked body as your beautiful moans ring in his ears. His hands move from your hips to grab your breasts and you ride him harder in approval, earning a groan from him.

You still felt like you were dreaming. You had lived such a strict sheltered life and felt so trapped for so long… But as the grey clouds swirl above you and the rain pours down over your shamelessly naked body, as you ride this god of a man who made your entire body vibrate with life, as you cried out loud enough for the gods to hear, as your prayers had finally been answered and your path now clear, as you feel your very souls connect. For the first time in your entire life… you felt free.

Your peak hits you even more intense than any time before, zings of pleasure radiate throughout your entire being. You felt yourself cry out Ragnar’s name but the sudden crack of lightning in the distance completely drowned out the sound. Your eyes shot open and you caught a glimpse of the fast line of lighting across the mountains at the same moment you came. Ragnar digs his fingers hard into your hips as he finds his own release. A loud rumble of thunder booms as he chokes out a moan. In that moment you felt so tremendously powerful, like a you were a god and goddess.

As you come down from your high the rain suddenly becomes much lighter. Panting, you look down at Ragnar who’s grinning smugly up at you. You give him a smirk back before leaning down and capturing his lips in a hungy kiss, your tongue instantly demands entrance and Ragnar happily obliges, moving his hand to your cheek as he eagerly kisses you back.

You roll off of him onto the wet grass, the rain now stopping completely. You felt so wild and free you that had no care about the mud that had gotten all over you.

“So…” Ragnar huffs, still catching his breath. “You really believe in our gods now?”

“They answered my prayers…” You respond, also panting. “It is hard to deny their existence after all of that.”

Ragnar just grins at you.

“We should get cleaned up.” He says as he stands, lending a hand to help you up.

As you stand he pulls you into a quick passionate kiss.

“Welcome to my world, (y/n).” Ragnar smiles.

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[eu-nicola]

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.

[ubbesbabymama]

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.”

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

How would Vikings react to Ivar being remembered?

summary: it's in the title :)

notes: no warnings except for maybe mentions of death

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy @esme-viridian (hmu to be added/removed!)

masterlist | based on this request

Ragnar

Pretends he always knew (eugh he’s such a bitch ong)

Nooo I would never set my son out in the wild… meeee? No wayyy…

He takes credit for it for his ‘great parenting’ and ‘legend genetics’

If Ivar had any legend genetics, they came from aslaug

Aslaug

Proudest mom out there, acts like a soccer/pta mom when she hears

Aslaug actually always knew

She quotes her prophetic dreams from like, 853 AD?

“I knew since I was five years old.” (truth)

Lagertha

Okay? Who cares? What about Bjorn?

Totally not pissed that he may be more famous than she is (lie)

Defo sulks about it to torvi and then kills someone important to expand her own legacy

She’s in the fame biz

Bjorn

Bro throws a toddler tantrum

He will literally stomp the ground

“That’s not fair, I discovered the Mediterranean!!” (he says that in the stupid tone he gets in the later seasons)

So so bitter about it (he deserves that)

Ubbe

Ubbe’s smoking weed in America with Floki

He does not care

“That’s just bad taste from people from the future. Me personally? I’d admire the person who found a continent. Idk, that’s just me though.”

Gets over it the fastest

Literally just thinks that it’s so dumb of modern people bc Ivar is a silly little guy with anger issues

Hvitserk

Similar reaction to Ubbe, except he doesn’t have to get over anything

Just kinda shrugs, he’s too busy worrying about his own legacy

What’s he in the history books for? His cuisine skills?

Yeah, bro’s kinda busy managing his own shit and trying to stay alive

Sigurd

Don’t tell him

For your own safety

Will kill you and then himself

Ivar

Don’t tell him either

Never lets anyone hear the end of it

So so so annoying for a silly little guy

He just loves and hates himself so much that, at the same time, he so needs to hear this and also never, ever hear this ever at all

Floki

Floki is the same as Aslaug, he KNEW

Also, he takes credit for raising ivar and being a father figure (fair enough)

He’s a teeny tiny bit sad that ivar was friends (in a weird homosexual way) with Alfred though (kind of, and this only applies if we’re talking about tv show Vikings)

Honestly, Floki would be such a good source to add to the material we have of ivar

Ecbert

So mad he didn’t have a bigger impact on ivar

Also so mad that all the kids around him have such big legacies (Alfred, ivar) but not him??

He wants to get mentioned!! Footnotes aren’t enough!! He needs to be the main character, always.

Gets sad drunk over it way too long

[aikaterini-drag]

Eternal bros 🩵 Harald and Leif, the dynamic duo that makes Vikings: Valhalla an epic saga of friendship and showcases the bonds that can be forged even amidst the chaos of war.

[dreamonseems]

Líf

First raid

- Story eight of Líf series of one-shot stories about Ubbe, his reader wife, and their children. Every story will be different but within the same universe. Nothing will be in order, just random stories about their lives.

⚠️ Warning: Smut in this chapter!

- Ok I made up a place called Raven United so any race reading this can Imagine being the reader.

Summary: You go on your first raid. There's some trouble, but Ubbe is always there to protect you.

As the Viking army sailed towards their target, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her veins. She watched as Ubbe and his brothers prepared for battle, their faces stern and focused. Ragnar stood beside them, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.

When they finally arrived at their destination, she jumped off the boat, sword in hand. She followed Ubbe and the others, her heart pounding. They charged forward, their battle cries ringing through the air.

At first, she felt overwhelmed by the chaos of battle. She saw men fall around her, heard the clang of swords and shields, and smelled the blood and sweat of their comrades. But as the battle raged on, She found herself falling into a rhythm, moving with the others, defending herself, and attacking their enemies.

They fought bravely, taking down several of the enemy soldiers with their swords. She felt a sense of pride and accomplishment as she fought alongside Ubbe, knowing that she was proving herself as a worthy shieldmaiden.

After the battle was won, she felt a sense of exhilaration and relief. She had survived her first raid, and she knew that she had proven herself to Ubbe and the others. She felt more confident in her ability as a warrior and knew that she had a bright future ahead of her as a shieldmaiden.

After the successful raid, the warriors were in high spirits and celebrated around the fire with meat and mead. Ubbe was caught up in the moment and was laughing and drinking with his brothers, while Y/N sat a little way off, lost in her thoughts.

Suddenly, a warrior from their army approached her and started to flirt with her. At first, she politely declined his advances, but he became increasingly forceful and wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried to leave, but the warrior grabbed her arm and struck her across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed across the camp, drawing the attention of the other warriors, including Ubbe. He rushed over to her, his eyes blazing with fury.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ubbe growled, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The warrior, who was still holding onto Y/N, sneered at Ubbe. "Just having a bit of fun with the new girl. What's it to you?"

"She's my wife," Ubbe said through gritted teeth. "And I won't tolerate anyone treating her like that."

The warrior laughed. "Your wife? She's just a slave you bought."

Without hesitation, he drew his sword and charged at the warrior, engaging him in a fierce battle.

The fight was short-lived as Ubbe was an experienced warrior, and the offending warrior was quickly overpowered. In a swift move, Ubbe dealt the fatal blow, ending the warrior's life. Y/N, shaken but unharmed, watched on as her husband defended her honor.

As they entered the tent, Ubbe noticed how shaken Y/N was. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her hands were shaking. He sat her down on their bedroll and knelt in front of her.

"Shh, shh," he said softly. "It's okay. You're safe now." Ubbe held her close, stroking her hair as she wept

She clung to him, her tears wetting his shirt. "I just feel so overwhelmed," she admitted. "Everything that happened today, and that warrior... I don't know if I can handle this."

Ubbe tightened his hold on her. "You're stronger than you think," he said. "You proved that today. You fought bravely, and you defended yourself when that man tried to hurt you. You're a shieldmaiden now, my love. You're one of us."

She sniffled, looking up at him. "But what if I'm not good enough?" she asked. "What if you realize that and leave me?"

Ubbe's eyes softened. "I will never leave you, my love," he said firmly. "You're my wife, and I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would do anything for you. Please don't ever doubt that."

Her eyes met his, searching for any sign of falsehood. But all she found was love and sincerity. Slowly, she began to relax in his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just... I get scared sometimes. It's a lot to take in."

Ubbe kissed her forehead. "I know. But we're in this together, my love. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Ubbe's lips met Y/N's. She felt a rush of warmth spread throughout her body. She could taste the mead on his breath as he kissed her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. His hands were tender as they cupped her face, and she felt his fingers gently stroking her hair.

She wrapped her arms around Ubbe's neck, deepening the kiss. She could feel his muscles tensing as he held her closer, as if afraid to let her go. The world around them faded away as they lost themselves in the moment, lost in the passion that burned between them.

Finally, Ubbe broke the kiss, looking into her eyes with a mix of desire and affection. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I will always love you."

smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I love you," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Ubbe's hands roamed freely over her back, pulling her even closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

Their tongues danced together in a fiery tango, exploring each other's mouths as they lost themselves in the moment. She could feel her heart racing, her body trembling with anticipation as Ubbe's hands traced down her spine, sending shivers of pleasure through her entire body.

Their kiss grew more passionate, Ubbe's grip on her tightened. She surrendered herself completely to him, letting him take control as she felt herself slipping into a deep state of arousal.

Without breaking the kiss, Ubbe began to remove her clothing, one piece at a time, revealing her supple skin to the firelight. She felt her body heat up with desire, wanting nothing more than to feel his touch on her bare skin. She returned the favor, helping Ubbe out of his clothes until they were both naked and exposed to each other's eyes.

Their lips never once parted, as they explored each other's bodies with hungry eyes and eager hands.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you," Ubbe whispered in her ear as his fingers began to work on her core. She moaned in pleasure, her body responding to his touch. "Please, Ubbe," she whimpered, unable to hold back her desire any longer.

She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter with each passing moment, her body craving more of Ubbe's touch. She moaned loudly, her hands gripping tightly onto his muscular shoulders as he continued to work his magic.

Finally, when he could tell she was ready, he removed his fingers and positioned himself above her. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. She nodded, a look of anticipation and longing on her face. With a deep breath, he slowly entered her, filling her completely with his hard, throbbing member.

gasped in pleasure, her body arching up to meet his as he began to move in a slow, rhythmic motion. She could feel every inch of him inside of her, and she loved it.

She moaned as Ubbe continued to move inside her with increasing speed and intensity. She couldn't believe how much she loved this man and how much he loved her, She felt safe and protected in his arms, and the pleasure he was giving her was beyond anything she had ever experienced before.

As Ubbe's grip tightened around her, she felt a surge of arousal coursing through her body. she moaned, her fingers digging into his skin as she held on tight. "More."

Ubbe's smirk grew wider as he heard her words. He growled, his pace quickening. "Look at you, Wife taking me so well, so deep."

She couldn't speak, lost in the pleasure that was consuming her entire being. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, and she knew that Ubbe was right there with her. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies in sync as they reached the peak of pleasure together.

[mamamythics]

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┊┋ Pairing: Ubbe x OC

┊┋ Series Summary: "I see you'll create a legacy and

┊┋when you knew your end is coming, that’s when you

┊┋start lacking in the one wish you desired the most

┊┋because of your adventurous ways”, the tone in the

┊┋child’s voice as she spoke to the great Ragnar with the

┊┋winds flowing through her silver black hair that would

┊┋gently swiftly moves in the wind with the hues of her

┊┋white like grey slate eyes knowing her destiny would

┊┋ soon start dealing with the sons of Ragnar.

┊┋ Notes: Tw:

┊┋ Chap I~ The Valkyrie Cries~

┊┋ 2204 words count

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~790 AD~

Ever hear the cries of the Valkyries when they appear to the slain who earned their rightful place in Vahalla where they are greeted at a feast with the mighty Odin himself? What if there were rumors amongst the dead that this year would be the birth of a Valkyrie, a very resurrection of one of his faithful Valkyrie that was one of The Third of his Norns as this child earned the name of a goddess being that embodiment of that very Goddess of fate?

Heard the cries of a woman who accumulated bullets of sweat on her forehead joining the excruciating pain sent to the woman as the other women tended to her in a small wooden cobblestone home as she was on the journey of giving birth, Some were standing by her with just a white cloth dampened from the waters of a wooden bowl replacing the cloths with a new dampened cloth to keep her body cool helping her and praying to the gods that shell have a safe birth. The iron lock on the door clinked as the door burst open causing the reaction of the women to look over in the direction to see a man standing wearing a black tunic with a worried look on his face as the cries continue.

"How is she? What is news about the baby? Will the baby make it?" I heard the unsettling tones coming from his voice as one of the women tried their best to calm him down the pregnant woman's cries were heard in the background causing his concerned looks, "I assure you everything is alright, the baby is healthy and is ready to make its entrance onto the sight of the gods", As the words fell from the woman's perched slightly dry pink lips which put an ease to the Male. "Ást Mín", hearing her quivering voice call out towards the male when her sights set upon him, the male comes running over quickly as soon as he heard her call his nickname.

Falling on his knees beside their shared bed with her hand reaching out to him he successfully grabbed a hold to gradually smile at them two seeing each happily in love, "heart mín", he spoke softly unto her receiving a kiss on her wet forehead and tasting the faint salt taste on his lips, she felt his lips feeling the tension ease up feeling happy and upon the excitement ready to have this baby with the women prepared for the delivery of the baby. As they started the procedure, telling her to push as she did with her love holding her hand feeling the pressure she sent squeezing his hand while using all her strength to push forth while the other woman who was wiping the sweat from her forehead and neck gracefully, motivating her to continue with her pushing.

She almost succeeded in the delivery as the woman told her Just one more push to go the woman took a breather nodding in understanding keeping a tight grip on her love hand while he encouraged her that she was doing great giving him whispers in her ear and kisses on her forehead and cheek. Giving one last push she screamed out using all her strength and might before hearing a screeching cry of a baby, covered in its mother's vernix as the women who helped deliver the baby wrapped in a blue thick linen blanket cleaned the baby up from the white creamy transparent substance it was covered in. Holding the child in her arms she checks and sees a small smile that grows into a bright beautiful smile turning around to the couple as the tired mother and the anticipating father look back at the woman, "The Gods have blessed you with a baby girl!" Walking over to give the new parents their newborn daughter, seeing the beautiful radiant color of her skin that resembles the embers of the fire that still burns until it's only a speck of dust, with eyes like snow seeing the White like grey slate hues color of her eyes as there were silver streaks in her black milky hair earning a smile from her parents as her mother held her, "My Love shes beautiful", The Mother whispered towards to her love seeing the smile on his face as he slowly reached out wanting to hold her daughter to which The Mother lets him gently handing her over to him to his tall scrawny like stature held in his arms of embrace as he looks down to his daughter.

As the father held his newborn daughter starring her in awe flashes of visions started to appear in his mind for he was the seer with his shamanic abilities, seeing through these visions of a dark raven along with Valkyrie standing who was a goddess looking towards him before her eyes reverted to the baby giving him a nod before a flash as he saw an up close face with a man who was missing an eye speaking out to him saying "A Valkyrie rests on the rock in sleep, flickering fire flames about her with the sleep-thorn Ygg her erst did prick, other heroes she felled than he had willed, for her name of That Which Shall Be", Speaking with the deeped groggy tone of his voice speaking unto the man hearing the growls of the draugr in the background before his visions came to a clear where he comes back to his love and his daughter who was now calm after the cries she was speaking, The Father took one look at her, "I have a name that Odin himself have gifted me with, Through her beauty giving as she was blessed by Freyja herself, i have seen of our beautiful daughters future that will be an epic adventure but will be challenging that only her will have to figure out herself, for a name that comes from a Valkyrie, she rides to choose who shall be slain & govern the killings. I blessed the name Skuld Draugr coming from the youngest norn and powerful Valkyrie along with her dark aura of the strength of a Draugr. She will be one of the strongest women who will be the guide of men", the father spoke earning a smile from his love, loving the name Skuld Draugr but earning the sense of trepidation knowing what may come to him and her.

Midnight has fallen upon the couple after the delivery, The Mother and Father were fast asleep in their shared bed covered up in animal hides blankets as Skuld was in her made basinet who was peacefully sleeping until hearing in the distantce of men yells which caused the male to awake from his slumber hearing the rumbling sounds as they get closer seeing out of the window looking upon ball of light getting closer which were torches that were being carried by men, seeing the action caused the man to be afraid as he quickly woke up his dear love, grabbing a few things for her she was confused as to why he looked in the disarrayed state with confusion and grew worried in her, "My Beloved what wr-", As her words cut off short hearing the commotion outside before she came back from her love shoving her things in her face, "There no time to talk, you and Skuld need to leave Kattegat immediately", with his voice sounding scared hearing the shudder in his voice as there was no time to for an explanation as she picks up a now disturbed Skuld crying since her slumber was interrupted by her mother sudden lift into her arms as you could see the tear in her eyes falling from her face as they hugged and kissed each other one last time don't know if this is farewell forever as their eyes that were glassy from the tears looking at each other with their heart sinking one by one.

With her now running in the dark woods, she comes to a halt seeing from a distance their shared home was now being raided by Vikings the torches surrounded their home seeing them bring their beloved out of their own by force before they realized the wife & their daughter was not in there which her feet starts picking back up running once again now knowing she was gonna get hunted down heading down towards a vacant shore which she comes to seeing and empty boat, with no time to waste she gets in the boat placing down of what little belongings she had left while holding her daughter in the other arm, grabbing the oars started to move the boat with the gravity of the water she held her daughter close feeling the tears pouring from her face knowing her love will not be with him, and Skuld will not have her father watching her grow.

After a successful mission putting Skuld back to sleep the process of falling asleep herself, startled as she was when the boat hit something which caused her to wake up seeing land upon her as the sky returned to a bright light shining down her melanin skin she looked around seeing some people walking back with baskets of clothes or some carrying some food materials, she recognizes the place in the instant as she could smell the grassy mildew as she arrived in Götaland.

~793 AD, 3 Decades Later~

In the South of Svealand, in Scandinavia I heard the cheerful giggles of a little girl and bark coming from a dog seeing a now 3-year-old Skuld smiling from top to bottom playing with a fluffy rather big dog who was gray and white earning a smile from a woman who looked like she was in her mid-20s seeing how her golden brown wavy hair went all the way down to her back watching Skuld playing with the dog that seems to belong to the woman, She seems interested in my dog huh Skadi?, she spoke with her lips perched looking back at her shield maiden who was the mother of Skuld, as she looks upon her daughter given like playful at her nature, ever since upon arriving in götaland seeking shelter to which she was blessed to be picked by princess Aslaug to be her shield maiden and servant in return shelter for her and her child as Skadi learned how to use a sword by her father when she was a youngling which it grabbed her advantage as she became one of Aslaugs shield maiden. Coming back to the present, watching her daughter play making her smile remembering when she was just a baby, I do agree with you princess, As the words fell from her lips as for the other shield maidens that came along in protection of their beautiful princess Aslaug. "I wondered what it was like to bore children to see their cute-like stature growing until they grew strong among many men and women", Aslaug spoke with such curiosity while looking at Skuld, Skadi looked at Aslaug wondering what was going on in her mind before feeling her lips part, "your grace, it is like any parents who bore a child or children of their own, as the gods above have blessed them with beautiful kids that fill their heart with love and care, wanting for their kids to have the world see the beauty of kid. Will sacrifice anything to protect their own, I believe like Your grace parents when they had you princess", Skadi spoke like a true mother would, speaking from the heart of her soul as Aslaug looked over to Skadi giving her a lovely smile.

"I know your graces loved her parents by the way she will speak so highly of them while they feast with Odin in Valhalla", Skadi added knowing Aslaug loved being praised by others for her obsequious clever nature, before Aslaug stood up from her seat and getting undressed to bath in the clear river waters before her eyes. "Skuld!" Skadi called beckoning for her daughter to come, Skuld came to a halt from playing with Aslaug's dog to now finding herself running to her mother, hearing the cute giggles as she looked up seeing her mother who squatted down before her at eye level with her daughter, "While our princess bathes would you mind going out into the forest grabbing some black crowberry & red raspberry, knowing how you love when mommy fixes that sweet treat she always makes for you?", Hearing the words she was hearing her eyes lit up nodding in excitement as a brown linen pouch fell into Skulds hand before Skadi sends her off trusting in her daughter that she knows how to get back in safe arms.

Skulds now with instructions in the forest to find the berries she needs grabbing a handful before hearing upon her ears as she hears twigs snapping from a distance before she knew it that's when she turned around seeing upon her a man, whose eyes glittered like the oceans, when her visions started as her journey as a völva became to be...

[at1nys-blog]

Masterlist

【Ragnar Lothbrok】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Lagertha】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Björn Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Floki&Helga】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Athlestan】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Rollo】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Siggy】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Aslaugh】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ubbe Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Hvitserk Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ My own Valkyrja

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ more to come

【Sigurd Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ivar Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Halfdan the black】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Harald Finehair】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Torvi】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Heahmund】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Gunnhild】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kalf】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kjetill Flatnose】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Yidu】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

[bluemargotrobbie]

Lagertha 😭😞

"Le he roto el corazón a mi hijo ”

📚: 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙇𝘼 𝘿𝙀𝙇 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙊 (publicado)

🖋: Sol_Andersen93 (wattpad)

📸: unaandroidevikinga (instagram)

🌎: vikings

💌: Ragnar Lothbrock & Bjorn Ironside

👤: Elizabeth

[entitled-fangirl]

A ring and a cold heart.

Ivar the Boneless x Lagerthasdottir!reader

Summary: Lagertha's gift of a daughter and Ragnar's monster of a son have loved one another for far too long. But things in Kattegat are fragile, and the two now must make choices.

Warnings: mostly spoilers for S4b

A/n: I had to break this into sections. Trust that p2 is gonna get serious real fast.

Masterlist

........................................

The Seer had been right.

Lagertha would never give Ragnar a son, never bearing one after her Bjorn. But when Earl Kalf came into her life, she suddenly found herself with child.

There was little hope that the child would make it. After all, the Seer said so.

But a daughter?

Lagertha's second chance to make up for the death of her sweet Gyda. She held the babe close.

And yet.

No one predicted that she'd one day end up in the arms of Ivar the Boneless.

…

"It seems like a death sentence," she explained to Ivar. "Suicide, even."

"My father wants me to go," Ivar shrugged. "He needs me. I can't say no to that. To the gods."

She sighed. He was beyond stubborn. A true Ragnarsson trait.

She often traveled between Hedeby and Kattegat, staying with Bjorn when here. It was a strange thing to have her around, but Bjorn was the Prince of Kattegat, so others didn't have much room to question.

Plus, the Ragnarssons didn't mind a bit.

She was neither the daughter of Ragnar or Aslaug, but because of her connection to Bjorn, she was a sister to all five of them.

Well, four of them.

Ivar's love had always gone beyond that. As did hers for him.

"What if you go with Bjorn instead?" She tried. Her hand stretched out over his. "To the Mediterranean."

His head lulled. "My brothers have always doubted me. Not my father. He knows what the gods have in store for me."

"And what if all that is store is your death?"

He ran his tongue across his teeth. "Then I will die."

"Marry me before you go," she rushed out, immediately caving in once it was uttered.

"I will not risk making you a widow before you get to truly be a wife."

She felt tears well up in her eyes. She was never the strong one around. Lagertha swore to have a peaceful reign when she became Earl. There was no need to teach her daughter the hardships of being a shield maiden. She had no need to- Lagertha on one side and Bjorn on the other always. Gyda was so soft. So kind. Y/n was no different, only older. She had a chance to grow up kind.

"Don't cry," Ivar huffed. He had no idea what to do with tears. "I'll be back soon enough."

"Swear to it."

He shook his head. "I will not swear if I don't know the will of the gods."

"Then swear you'll marry me if you return."

He couldn't stop another scoff, "woman-"

"-Ivar, please."

"Ivar!" Aslaug's voice interrupted.

The queen stepped into the room, her worry turning to amusement at the sight of the two. She'd always had an odd relationship with Lagertha. How strange was fate to bring their children together? 

"Let me speak to my mother," Ivar gently waved.

Y/n nodded and stood, but her wrist was caught by him. "I swear to it," he remarked, looking her firmly in the eye.

…

Lagertha had come to Kattegat with the help of Torvi and Margerette. She hadn't dragged Y/n into the plans.

So when she took Kattegat, Y/n stood at the sidelines in shock, even letting out a shriek when Aslaug fell to the ground dead.

She wanted to feel betrayed by her mother. She should have. But she couldn't find it in herself. Lagertha had sat on the sidelines for too long as her world was taken away.

So she was torn when Ubbe and Sigurd had come to her privately.

"How are you not angry," Ubbe lectured his brother. "Our mother is dead."

"And it is for the best," Sigurd huffed. "Y/n's mother is the only one around here that knows how to truly mother. Look at Bjorn."

"Y/n?" Ubbe questioned.

She sat with her head in her hands, utterly confused by it all. "I won't choose sides."

"We all know it will come to it eventually."

She lifted her head with a heartbroken look. "Then I side with Bjorn. The side he chooses, I follow."

Ubbe nodded. "Very well. So, we wait for Bjorn."

"No," Sigurd shivered. "We wait for Ivar more."

The three exchanged nervous glances.

…

Ivar had returned first. Carried by soldiers of King Ecbert's guard, he was set onto the wooden dock of Kattegat.

She couldn't muster the strength to go welcome him. He wouldn't find out such devastating news from her.

But the next day, Ivar crawled his way into the feast hall with his picks. The entire room quieted as they waited for what the angry son of Aslaug would say.

His eyes slowly trailed from Lagertha, to Torvi, to Astrid, then finally, Y/n.

She stood to the side, a completely guilty expression strung across her face.

No one was immune to noticing the way his eyes glued themselves to her in every room.

It had been like that since her first visit to Kattegat.

It's what finally drove the stake between Sigurd and Ivar. The love Bjorn had for Y/n that he never had for his own daughter, Siggy. And how Sigurd had loved little Siggy.

Y/n's life was always a comparison to one's already dead. All did it but Ivar. Perhaps that is why she was so content to be stuck in his web.

When Largertha refused Ivar's challenge, he was becoming angrier. He knew his easiest chance to kill her was by hand-to-hand combat. Ivar was a cripple, but a damn good one.

"I will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is fixed," he growled.

Content with his threat, he looked back to Y/n, pulling a chain from around his neck.

A ring.

She felt something in her stomach twist at the shimmer that crossed her vision. His fingers rubbed over it a few times, egging for a reaction from the girl he promised to marry.

He let the chain drop to his chest with a smirk. Especially when her eyes followed it.

…

As soon as the meeting was adjourned, she rushed out to Ragnar's old cabin. The children had found it when he'd left, and it was their designated space away from the rest of the world. Plus, that was all the boys had to live in now. Ivar would be there.

She rushed in, not caring that the other brothers were gathered around. "Ivar?"

The three others looked at one another with questioning glances before completely packing up and walking out. The brothers weren't about to intervene.

The door closed before Ivar finally spoke. "What do you want?"

"Are you not grateful to be home? To be back? To be the only survivor?" She sat next to him, her voice lowering. "Are you not happy to see me?"

He scoffed, turning away.

"I didn't know, Ivar. I swear to you."

"Seems like we enjoy making swears we don't intend to keep, hm?" He mocked. 

Her eyes moved down to the chain again. She sat up straighter and brushed a hand over his chest. Over the ring. "You truly won't marry me now?" She asked softly.

His hand wrapped around her wrist gruffly. But after the initial touch, his grip softened. His jaw was clenched, his anger unchecked. But he couldn't help the flutter that still moved through his chest. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know if I want children with traitor blood."

Her fingers twiddled with the ring. "You know better than I that we don't choose our mothers. The gods do."

"And yet, you'll never help me get my revenge."

"No," she agreed. "I won't."

His eyes wandered over her face. The anger bubbled under his skin. But not at her. And that frustrated him more. "I'll still marry you. But you cannot fault your future husband when he has his revenge."

"But Bjorn will-"

"-That is my offer to you, my love. If you want this ring," he offered, pulling the chain from around his neck and setting it on the wooden table, "Then that is your choice. I have taken my stand. You know what I will do. Will you still marry me?"

She stared down at the jewelry. She'd longed for this for years now. Being his wife.

This could make or break everything.

"I… I don't know," she admitted back to him.

"You don't know?"

"I should wait. For Bjorn to come back. And Hvitserk."

He set a heavy hand on her thigh. Not menacing, but not softly either. "Will you ever choose things for yourself? Or will you wait on Bjorn hand and foot as he decides your fate?"

"Ivar-"

"-No. I do not mind if you must think on it more. But do not do what Bjorn says purely because you think it is right. He makes mistakes." His head tipped down and his gaze turned menacing. "You will choose."

She nodded. "I need time."

"Good," his voice lightened. He even managed a smile. His body leaned forward like he was thinking of kissing her, but he paused and gave a quick nod of his head in acceptance. Then he looked at the ring and her one last time before pulling himself down to the floor and leaving.

She exhaled a long breath, taking the chain and placing it around her neck, tucking it away.

…

Another feast, another problem.

Y/n wasn't far off from Torvi and Astrid, hearing them speak about something being wrong as the large doors closed.

"Like what?" Astrid asked.

"I don't know, but something."

Sigurd let out a small grunt as someone grabbed him from behind and held him at knifepoint. That began a whole group coming forward and grabbing at Lagertha's shield maidens and earls alike, restraining them all.

A hand grabbed Y/n's wrist, holding it out.

Ivar's ring was wrapped around her finger. She'd chosen.

Whoever it was dropped her hand entirely and stepped away from her, meaning she stood amidst the chaos, entirely left alone.

Everyone began to part, and Y/n tucked away towards Sigurd. Her hand grabbed the wrist of the man holding him in an attempt to pry him away.

Ivar and Ubbe approached Lagertha's throne. Lagertha was rather unfazed by it, standing and grabbing her sword slowly. She was a fighter to the end.

Ivar was impressed by her willingness to face him. He sat up with his spike as Ubbe circled around the queen.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

The door burst open, and in walks Bjorn.

"If you kill her, my brothers," he sauntered, "you'll have to kill me too."

Y/n and Sigurd both let out relieved sighs. The argument was far from over. But with Bjorn there, the fight would not be one-sided.

"Maybe we should," Ivar warned.

"Shut up," Ubbe immediately countered. He respected Bjorn immensely, and starting conflict with Ironside was like starting to dig your own grave. "She killed our mother," he mentioned. Bjorn would see where he was coming from. Surely.

"I know. You want revenge. So would I." He took in a deep breath. "But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that," he tapped his axe against Ivar's cheek, "is what we are going to do."

Lagertha smiled and threw down her sword, prompting the rest to follow.

As Sigurd was let go, Y/n immediately tended to him, rubbing a soft hand over his neck at the irritated skin. 

Frustrated, Ubbe and Ivar left.

She was torn between following them and staying with Bjorn and Lagertha.

But after speaking to the new queen, Bjorn spotted her. That made the decision. She approached him, smoothing out her dress as she weaved through everyone.

Within a few minutes, the feast began again like nothing had happened, but Bjorn was still far from jovial.

She wasn't even sure the viking knew what that word meant.

"So, I travel all the way past Frankia, through pirated seas and storms, I keelhaul my own uncle, and still," he grumbles, "things turn to ruin here the moment I turn away."

"You hated Aslaug," Y/n points out. "You always have."

"Since I watched her sleep with my father the first time they met, yes. Yes, I have," he complained. "But our mother has caused a rift that I'd rather not have now. I have revenge of my own to get and I need my brothers in order to do it."

"You have your brothers," she pointed out. "Of Ragnar's wrongful death, you all agree."

"I will not play guard to mother's kingdom more than I did before. I want to sail. To travel."

"Then don't."

He let out a long sigh. "This is why I love the sea. It is predictable. People are not. Like you," he pointed his cup towards her.

"Like me?"

"You wear a ring and you say nothing about it. You have not asked for my allowance. Let me see it." He held out a large hand, to which she slipped the band off and gave to him. 

Bjorn flipped it in his palm a few times before a daunting thought came over him. "Where did you get this?" He questioned roughly. "Who is proposing with this ring? I'll kill him."

"Brother," she scoffed. "Why the sudden rage?"

"Does mother know?" He asked in complete ignorance of her previous question.

"No. No, and she won't. Not right now."

"I'll ask one more time," Bjorn growled, leaning across the table. "Who is proposing with Mother's ring?"

Oh.

Where had Ivar gotten Lagertha's ring? 

"Our mother wore this ring until the day she and I left Ragnar. Her wedding band. Now answer the question, sister."

"Give it back, Bjorn." She tried to muster up confidence. It didn't quite work.

Bjorn's lips quirked up at that, all too amused. "I don't think I will. I think I'll hold onto this until you decide to ask for my blessing."

"That is cruel!"

He shrugged. "I don't care. Either you tell me now or he can come get it from me himself."

She let out a tantrum-like grunt and stood up, her chair scrapping against the wood. She weaved through the crowd and finally out into the cold air.

…

The journey was a little harder in the dark than she'd thought. The air was cold and frigid, and she was far from dressed for it. The wind chilled her immensely, traveling down her bones. Her chattering teeth exhaled a visible breath when she saw the cabin.

"Ivar? Ivar!" She called out as she neared.

Hvitserk was the one to come out with a concerned brow raised. 

Y/n felt guilty, still not welcoming Hvitserk after the raid. She all but collapsed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and finally relaxing.

Hvitserk froze for a moment. Touch was never his thing. "You miss me?"

"Like hell," she mumbled against his chest.

He chuckled and circled his arm around her. "Already using Christian phrases, hm? Don't let Ivar hear you. Congratulations, by the way."

It was her turn to freeze, her head tilting up until she looked straight up at him. "What?"

"You're to be married, are you not? He said so." At her hum of agreement, he rubbed a hand down her back. "You're freezing, sister. You'll catch a chill if I don't get you inside."

He guided her in. The warm air from their small fire immediately caused a shiver down her body. Hvitserk frowned and held a hand to her forehead. "Gods. I'd think you were half dead like this."

That caught Ivar's attention. His head snapped up, his entire body relaxing at the sight of her. "Did you travel this far like that?" He questioned, his hand motioning to her lack of heavy clothing.

She stepped to the fire, sitting down next to Ubbe. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to transfer some of his heat. After all, he'd been scheming over the flames for a while now. He could afford to give some of the warmth up. 

Ubbe gave a small glare to Ivar, effectively telling him to drop the question. "Let me see this ring Ivar said so much about."

Her face dropped. "Oh. I… it's…"

One by one, the siblings realized that something was not quite right and Ubbe should have minded his own business. In all honesty, it was a fair ask. One that usually is fine to ask to an engaged woman. 

Ivar let out a long, loud breath. He seethed from his place at the table. "Where is it? I was told it was on your finger only hours ago."

How to explain that Bjorn had taken it without Ivar immediately growing angry? After all, Ironside didn't know that it was Ivar's. It wasn't personal at all. But that's not how Ivar saw things.

"Where is it?" He asked in a firmer tone. His head tilted. His tongue ran over the back of his teeth. "Did someone take it from you?"

"Don't be angry-"

"-No I AM ANGRY!" He yelled. "Tell me yes or no. Have you gone back on your word?"

"Ivar," Ubbe scorned. "Let the woman speak." He pulled a piece of hair from her face. "Go on."

She sniffled and moved closer to the fire to warm her hands. She stared at her ring finger longingly. "I do, Ivar. I want to marry you."

Hvitserk smirked widely, peering at his brother in a tease. His brother. In love. 

Ivar exhaled in a hidden form of relief. "Alright."

"I did not tell Bjorn about it yet. I wanted to wait…"

"-But?" Ubbe interrupted.

"But Bjorn saw it before I could." She frowned. "Where did you get Lagertha's ring?"

Every head shot to Ivar in shock.

He shrugged. "Father gave it to me. On our way to Wessex. I told him that we would marry when I returned and he gave me the ring. Chain and all. He said he'd worn it around his neck since the day your mother left him."

............................................

[ealdormanink]

Can you write one with Ivar? ❤️

Reader is daughter of King Harald and shes friends and in love with Ivar and she has to marry one of the Ragnarssons and they all want her and she ofc chooses Ivar and he cant believe it.

Written in the Stars

Ivar the boneless x female reader!

A/N: thank you for this request! I hope you like it!!

King Harald's fleet's sails cast long shadows over Kattegat's iron-grey waters. Y/N's fingers traced the wooden railing of her father's ship, her eyes fixed on the approaching shoreline. The familiar silhouettes of the great hall and the busy docks stirred memories that made her heart flutter against her ribs.

The salty breeze carried whispers of past winters spent poring over maps by candlelight, of shared laughter echoing through empty halls when everyone else had retired, of piercing blue eyes that saw her - truly saw her - for who she was.

"The winds have favored us." Harald's voice broke through the symphony of creaking wood and splashing waves. Y/N's fingers stilled on the railing, though she couldn't quite suppress the way her lips curved upward.

Through the morning mist, familiar figures emerged on the docks. There, among his brothers, sat Ivar in his chariot. Even from this distance, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. Their eyes met across the narrowing stretch of water, and five years of friendship hung in the space between them.

The ship's bow cut through the last few meters of fjord. As they docked, Ubbe's voice carried across the harbor, "Welcome to Kattegat, King Harald." His eyes lingered on Y/N, calculating and considering in a way that made her spine stiffen.

Hvitserk stepped forward, extending his hand to help her onto the dock. "Princess Y/N." His smile was warm, practiced. "The gods have blessed us with your return."

The wooden planks creaked under her boots as she accepted his assistance, but her attention was drawn to the subtle shift in Ivar's posture, the way his knuckles whitened around the edge of his chariot.

"The journey must have been tiring." Ivar's voice cut through the pleasantries like a blade through silk. His eyes hadn't left her face since she'd first appeared on deck. "Perhaps the princess would prefer to rest before tonight's festivities."

"Always so concerned, brother." Sigurd's words dripped with mockery. "Or perhaps you're simply eager to monopolize her time, as usual?"

Y/N's fingers unconsciously found the silver pendant at her throat - a gift from Ivar, carved with runes they'd deciphered together during one of their many late-night conversations. Those nights when they'd abandon the noise of the great hall, finding solace in ancient sagas and battle strategies that only they seemed to understand.

The great hall buzzed with activity as servants prepared for the evening's feast. Y/N's chambers overlooked the main square, where memories lingered in every corner. Her fingers traced the windowsill where, years ago, she'd first found Ivar alone, poring over his father's old maps.

"Your form is wrong." The echo of her younger self's voice played in her mind. She'd corrected his interpretation of the English coastline that day, earning not his usual sharp retort, but a look of genuine surprise. That was the first time he'd smiled at her - really smiled.

A knock at the door pulled her from the memory. Astrid, one of the servants, entered with fresh water.

"The sons of Ragnar are asking after you, Princess." Astrid's eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. "All of them."

The weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Everyone knew why Harald had brought his daughter to Kattegat this time. Alliances needed to be strengthened, and marriage was the surest way.

Y/N's feet carried her to the courtyard, where she found Ubbe first. He stood tall, every inch the eldest brother, watching the training grounds with calculated interest.

"You've grown more beautiful since we last met." His voice was diplomatic, measured. He stepped closer, close enough for her to see the political ambition in his eyes. "A union between us would bring great strength to both our people."

Before she could respond, Hvitserk appeared, twirling a knife between his fingers. "Brother, you sound like you're negotiating a trade deal." His easy smile didn't quite mask the hunger in his gaze. "Our princess deserves poetry, not politics."

Y/N's eyes drifted past them both, landing on the familiar figure by the weapons rack. Ivar sat cleaning his axe - the same one she'd helped him choose three winters ago. His movements were precise, following the pattern she'd shown him: three strokes down, one across, just as her mother had taught her.

"Still pining after the cripple?" Sigurd's voice slithered from behind her. "You could have any of us, yet you waste your time with him."

The familiar surge of protective anger rose in her chest, but before she could speak, Ivar's axe embedded itself in the post beside Sigurd's head.

"Your aim is improving," Y/N said, the words falling naturally from her lips, an old joke between them. "Though you're still pulling slightly to the left."

"Perhaps I need another lesson." Ivar's eyes met hers, and for a moment, they were back in that first winter, when she'd spent hours helping him adjust his throwing technique, never once mentioning his legs, focusing only on his strength.

The feast hall glowed with firelight, casting dancing shadows across faces both familiar and strange. Y/N sat at the high table, her father's words still ringing in her ears: "You must choose one of Ragnar's sons before the next full moon."

Her eyes drifted across the hall, watching the brothers in turn. Ubbe stood among the warriors, every gesture calculated to display his leadership. Hvitserk charmed a group of shield-maidens, though his gaze kept finding its way back to her. Sigurd strummed his oud, his song carrying notes of barely concealed mockery.

And Ivar... Ivar sat in his usual corner, away from the crowds, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup. The same spot where they'd spent countless evenings discussing everything from battle tactics to the gods themselves.

"Do you remember," his voice caught her off guard as she approached his table, drawn to him as always, "the night you taught me about the stars?"

How could she forget? They'd stayed up until dawn, her finger pointing out constellations while he told her the stories behind each one. She'd never told him that she'd already known them all - she'd just wanted to hear his voice, to see the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of the gods.

"You were a terrible student," she teased, sliding onto the bench beside him. The familiar scent of leather and metal wrapped around her like an old blanket. "You kept making up new constellations."

"And you kept believing them." His smile, rare and genuine, made her heart stutter. "Until you realized I was describing shapes that looked like Sigurd falling off a horse."

A comfortable silence fell between them, filled with years of shared moments and unspoken words. Around them, the feast continued, but they existed in their own world, just as they always had.

"They're all watching you," Ivar said finally, his voice tight. "My brothers. They all want you."

"Let them watch." Her fingers found the edge of the table, inches from his. "They don't see me the way you do."

"And how do I see you?" His question came out barely above a whisper, vulnerable in a way only she was allowed to witness.

"Like I'm more than just Harald's daughter. Like I'm..." She paused, remembering all the times he'd challenged her mind, valued her opinions, trusted her judgment. "Like I'm me."

The firelight caught the silver of his arm ring - the one she'd helped him forge two summers ago, their fingers working the metal together as she'd steadied his hand.

The moment of choice arrived with the rising moon. The great hall fell silent as Y/N stood before the assembled crowd, her father's expectant gaze heavy upon her shoulders. Four brothers stood before her, four possible futures stretched out like paths in the darkness.

Ubbe stepped forward first, ever the diplomat. "Choose wisely, Princess. The future of our peoples rests upon this decision." His words echoed against the wooden walls, practiced and perfect.

Hvitserk offered her a playful wink. "Choose with your heart, not your head." His charm sparkled like sunlight on water, beautiful but fleeting.

Sigurd simply smirked, his fingers still wrapped around his oud. "Though some choices," his eyes flickered to Ivar, "might be less... conventional than others."

And Ivar... Ivar remained still, his eyes fixed on the ground. She could read the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped his crutch - a gesture she'd learned meant he was preparing himself for disappointment.

Y/N's feet carried her forward, past Ubbe's calculated smile, past Hvitserk's outstretched hand, past Sigurd's mocking gaze. She stopped before Ivar, close enough to see the subtle tremor in his hands.

"I choose Ivar Ragnarsson," her voice rang clear through the hall. "I choose the man who saw me as an equal before he saw me as a princess."

Ivar's head snapped up, disbelief warring with hope in his ice-blue eyes. "You can't," he whispered, for her ears alone. "You deserve someone who can-"

"I deserve someone who challenges my mind," she cut him off, her hand finding his cheek. "Someone who values my thoughts as much as my title. Someone who taught me to read the stars, even while making up constellations to make me laugh."

The hall erupted in murmurs, but Y/N heard only the sharp intake of Ivar's breath. His free hand found hers, trembling slightly.

"You've always been my choice," she continued, soft enough that only he could hear. "Since that first day when you argued with me about the English coastline. Since every night we spent planning battles and reading sagas. Since every moment you saw me for who I am, not who I was born to be."

"But I'm-" he started.

"You're Ivar," she said simply. "My Ivar. The only one who's ever matched me, challenged me, understood me. The only one I could ever choose."

Slowly, like dawn breaking over the horizon, a smile spread across Ivar's face - not his usual smirk, but the real smile she'd come to treasure. His fingers tightened around hers, and in that moment, they were back in every shared laugh, every quiet conversation, every silent understanding that had led them here.

"The gods themselves couldn't have given me a greater gift," he whispered, and Y/N saw in his eyes the same truth she'd known all along - that some choices are made long before they're spoken aloud, written in the stars they'd watched together all those nights ago.

[milkb0nny]

I would like to request sth 🥰

Could you write one with reader being daughter of a great king and shes married with Ivar and she hears Margrethe talking bad about him and he hears, gets really sad and reader sees just red and gets really mad and Ivar just loves how she is just as tyrannt as him?

I would totally understand if you dont want to write it.

Anyways I hope you have a great day ❤️

Fury Amongst Us

Pairing: Ivar x fem!reader

Summary: Despite the forced marriage between you and Ivar, the two of you developed some sort of adoration. Still, you didn’t exchange much words to one another, until that one evening; you could not stand Magrethe talking bad about your husband.

Note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you will like it! I made Reader a little more tame than Ivar, but still fierce and respectable. I had quite some fun writing this. Have a lovely day anon. <3

Content: established relationship, swearing, arguing, fluff, blood

Word count: ~1400

You prepared yourself for the festivities in the grand hall as your people prepared to celebrate the successes of the recent raids and the goods they had brought back. Each time the warriors returned, your father made the journey to Kattegat for the grand celebrations. He always claimed he came to see you, his daughter, but you knew he was drawn to the infamous vibrance of the town. You loved your father, and you couldn’t complain about seeing him. You had grown accustomed to these occasions, yet tonight was more exciting than the festivities before: it was your first evening in the grand hall as a married woman.

Your marriage to Ivar Ragnarsson, the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, was not born of love but of strategy - a political alliance to unite your families and strengthen ties between your folk. It was an act of power, not passion. Therefore you met with prejudice and discomfort, which vanished quickly. You did not begrudge your fate. The man could have been an ugly, aging warrior; instead, you were married to a man who was young, complex, and intriguing.

You had heard of Ivar's reputation long before meeting him. His anger and cruelty were legendary, and those who spoke of him did so with both fear and awe. Yet in the months since your marriage, you had glimpsed a different side to him, one the world rarely saw. His legs, which many deemed a weakness, were not so to him. His ambitious will and sharp mind more than compensated for any physical limitation. You found this quality admirable, even endearing. But with his strength came a quiet torment. You have experienced his rage, however, it was never turned on you but others. As if he tried to spare you from his ugliness, which you appreciated. He cared somewhat about his wife.

Over the past week, you had tried to overcome the distance between you and Ivar, seeking moments of closeness and tenderness. Yet he remained distant, avoiding your affections not with cruelty but with a quiet humility that suggested he believed himself unworthy of your love. He declined intimate acts, and your efforts to make up for the lack of romance between you. Who would have thought that Ivar the Boneless, the man feared across lands, carried such a burden of self-doubt? You respected his boundaries, offering him space but showing your care in subtle ways. And with each glance, each moment shared in silence, you felt a growing pull in your heart. You watched him, often questioning what thoughts stirred his mind. Was this marriage beginning to blossom into something real? If not, why did you feel those emotions then? You weren’t sure, but you found yourself eager to explore.

As Magrethe and another woman helped you dress, their usual gossip floated around the room. You paid little attention to it, your mind drifting to thoughts of Ivar. Magrethe’s sharp tongue often spilled tea, and though her stories rarely concerned you, today her words felt especially bitter. She rambled on about a couple who had argued loudly the night before, her tone dismissive and mocking.

The room quieted when Ivar appeared in the doorway. His presence was commanding, his piercing blue eyes immediately finding yours. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, but he quickly averted his gaze, moving into the next room where his brothers waited. The door remained slightly open, and you caught him glancing back, as though reluctant to leave the sight of you.

Magrethe noticed your melancholic expression and, despite the envy that often laced her words, she tried to comfort you. "Ivar is not only ruthless in battle but also with the people closest to him," she said, her voice deceptively soft. "You should be careful, my lady. His anger might one day find you, too."

Her words, though spoken with genuine concern, carried a hidden mischief. You replied calmly, your tone steady.

"I appreciate your concern, Magrethe, but I am his wife, not the cause of his fury."

Your chest tightened at her cruel words, but you remained composed. Through the mirror, you saw Ivar just beyond the door, his head bowed as if trying to shrink away. His brothers’ laughter did little to drown out the sting of Magrethe’s remarks, and you knew he had heard every word. His eyes reflected the self hatred and disgust he owned for himself, and that alone hurt you.

"But haven’t you noticed?" she pressed, her voice growing sharper. "He cares only for power and pays no mind to the cost of his ambitions. He would hurt anyone to achieve importance. Yet, no matter how much power he has, he will always remain a cripple - a man who must rely on others to carry him."

With curiosity, you encouraged her to continue. "Go on," you said calmly.

Though the fire in your heart burned hotter with every passing moment. You set a trap for her to step in, and so she did.

Magrethe leaned closer, her tone dripping with mean words. "I pity you, my lady, being tied to such a man. The worst of it is that Ivar doesn’t love anyone… not even himself. He pushes everyone away. That’s why he’ll always be alone, no matter how powerful he becomes."

Her words were the final spark. Fury surged within you, and you turned to face her, your gaze cold and unyielding. Through the open door, you caught a glimpse of Ivar, his shoulders stiff, bracing for what he assumed would be your agreement with Magrethe’s cruel assessment. He clearly expected you to complain and cry. But what came next was far from what anyone expected.

Without warning, your hand struck Magrethe’s cheek with a sharp small object, the force sending her stumbling backward and falling to ground. Blood welled from a thin cut where your hidden blade had grazed her pure skin. Her shocked whimpers filled the room as she clutched her face.

Ubbe burst into the room, his expression one of alarm. Before he could speak, you turned to him, your voice cutting through the tension like steel.

"You allow such insolence to fester in your household, Ubbe? This woman insults your brother and dares to do so in my presence."

Magrethe sobbed before you, her arrogance shattered. Kneeling, you grasped her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze.

"You speak of my husband as though you understand him, but you know nothing of his strength, his pain. You, Magrethe, are nothing more than a jealous, envious snake, slithering beneath the feet of those greater than you." You continued to torment her, not letting that behavior go. „How can you speak of self esteem when you’re reeking of jealousy? How can you act as if you’re above him?“

Your voice softened, but each word carried the weight of your fury.

"If Ivar is broken, then I will carry him. If the world taunts him, I will silence it. And if you or anyone else dares to challenge him, I will make the gods themselves regret it. The world will burn in flames, and I will cause it if someone dares to question us, our marriage or our love."

As you stepped into the hall, the cool air brushing against your flushed skin, you found Ivar waiting. His blue eyes were filled with a mixture of awe and longing. For the first time, he reached for your hand, his touch tentative but warm.

The room was silent, only for Magrethe’s soft sobs. Even Ubbe was speechless, his gaze flicking between you and the trembling woman at your feet. You rose, your movements deliberate and commanding, and turned to Ubbe.

"Teach her to learn her place. If I hear another insult, I will not stop at a scar."

"You didn’t have to do that," he said softly, his voice laced with emotion.

For the first time, Ivar allowed himself to believe that perhaps he was worthy of such love. The anger he owned, he burdened himself with, now was shared with you.

Meeting his gaze, you replied with quiet intensity.

"I would do it again, Ivar. You are my husband, and I will not let anyone, not even you, think you are less than what you are."

[eu-nicola]

first love part 2

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

warnings: age-gap, infidelity

word counter: 6437

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

tags: @abelhudaz @gigo-gatinha @ameliahaa @silverwingxox @kcd15 @zoexme

The journey had been long and exhausting. The days spent on horseback had worn down your body and spirit, but you couldn’t allow yourself to stop. You knew that the farther you were from Kattegat, the safer you would be. Now, with the settlement in sight, a mix of relief and fear washed over you.  

The place was small, barely a dozen wooden houses with thatched roofs, scattered irregularly around a gently flowing river. The sound of the water, the scent of the pines, and the distant birdsong offered a peace you hadn’t felt in weeks. It was a secluded corner of the world, far from prying eyes and rumors. Here, no one knew you. Here, you could start anew.  

As you reached the edge of the settlement, a group of children playing with improvised bows stopped to look at you. Their laughter ceased, and their wide, curious eyes examined you as if you were an apparition. An older woman appeared behind them, drying her hands on an apron. Her gray hair was tied in a messy bun, and her face was marked by deep wrinkles.  

“Who are you, and what do you want here?” she asked in a rough but not hostile voice.  

“My name is…” You hesitated for a moment. Should you give your real name? You decided to keep things simple. “I’m a traveler. I’m looking for a place to stay.”  

The woman scrutinized you, as if assessing whether you were a threat. Finally, she nodded. “We don’t have much here, but we also don’t turn away those who need help. Come, we’ll speak with the settlement’s leader.”  

She led you to a cabin larger than the others, situated near the river. There you met Eirik, the leader of the small group living in the settlement. He was a robust man with a thick beard and eyes that seemed to read everything you were trying to hide. However, he didn’t ask unnecessary questions. After hearing you explain that you needed a place to stay, he simply nodded.  

“There’s an abandoned cabin on the edge of the settlement,” he said. “It’s not in the best condition, but if you can work to fix it up, it’s yours. In return, we expect you to help out however you can. Everyone here contributes.”  

You accepted with gratitude, relieved by the lack of interrogation. That same afternoon, you were taken to the cabin that would be your home.  

The cabin was in ruins. The roof had holes that let sunlight through, and the door barely hung on one of its hinges. The interior was filled with dust and cobwebs, but you didn’t care. To you, it was a refuge.  

With the help of a woman named Astrid, you began cleaning the place. She was a kind woman with calloused hands and a warm smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix it. All of us here have been through hard times. This place is a fresh start for many,” she told you as she energetically swept the floor.  

Little by little, the cabin started to take shape. A man named Gunnar, who was a carpenter, helped you repair the roof and door, while other women brought you blankets and some basic utensils. Although you felt uneasy about the kindness of others, you accepted their help. You had no other choice.  

The following days were a whirlwind of activity. You joined the women in daily tasks: gathering berries, tending to animals, and maintaining the homes. Though your farming skills were limited, you quickly learned. Astrid became a sort of mentor, teaching you how to identify useful plants in the forest and prepare meals with the few resources they had.  

At night, the settlement gathered around a central bonfire. You listened to the elders’ stories of times past, battles fought, and loves lost. Though you tried to keep to yourself, you sometimes felt the curious gazes of others. You knew they were intrigued by you, by your story, but you appreciated that they respected your silence.  

Over time, you began to feel like part of the place. Not as someone who belonged there, but as someone who had found a space to breathe.  

However, the nights were difficult. When you were alone in the cabin, the silence enveloped you like a heavy cloak. You found yourself instinctively touching your belly, dreaming of the future you had imagined for your child. The solitude was a constant reminder of what you had left behind: your home, your parents, and Ragnar.  

You wondered if he was looking for you, if he suspected why you had left. Sometimes, a sharp pain struck you when you remembered his smile, his laughter, and the weight of his gaze that always seemed to see beyond your words. But you shook off those thoughts. Ragnar belonged to another life, one you had left behind to protect what you carried within.  

Meanwhile, in Kattegat, Ragnar paced back and forth in the main hall of his house, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. Weeks had passed since he returned to Kattegat and discovered you were gone. No one had given him a clear explanation. No one could or would tell him why you had left everything behind.  

Your parents had been his first stop, of course. When he asked them directly, your mother avoided his gaze, and your father, rigid as a wall, only gave him vague answers.  

“She needed space,” your father had said tensely. “She left to find her own path.”  

Ragnar was not a man easily deceived. His blue eyes gleamed with suspicion as he watched them both. “Where did she go? Tell me the truth.”  

“We don’t even know,” your mother replied, and for the first time in that conversation, Ragnar saw some truth in her words. She seemed worried, even fearful, as she spoke.  

“How is that possible? She’s your daughter,” he retorted, his voice filled with frustration.  

“The only thing we know,” your father interjected, “is that she asked us not to tell anyone anything. Not even you.”  

That confession hit Ragnar like a hammer. Had you specifically asked to keep him in the dark? Why? The thought that you had deliberately excluded him from your life left him cold. However, he refused to believe that was the whole truth.  

As time passed, his obsession only grew. Ragnar spent every spare moment wondering what he had done to make you leave. Images of your last encounters replayed in his mind: your evasive answers, the glances you avoided, your evident exhaustion.  

“What are you hiding from me?” he muttered to himself at night, as anger and frustration built in his chest.  

He sought answers elsewhere. He questioned merchants and travelers who came to Kattegat, describing you in precise detail: your hair, your smile, even the way you walked. But no one knew anything.  

His behavior began to affect everyone around him. Lagertha watched him silently, noticing how his attention drifted further away. One night, she finally confronted him.  

“Ragnar, what’s happening to you?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of him. “You seem more concerned about a woman who’s no longer here than about your own family.”  

“You don’t understand,” he replied, his tone harsh enough to surprise Lagertha. “She left without saying anything. Something’s not right. I need to know what happened.”  

“Why do you care so much? She has her own life. Are you so dissatisfied here that you’re looking for something else elsewhere?”  

Lagertha’s words were cutting, and Ragnar knew she was partly right. But he couldn’t explain the depth of what he felt because even he didn’t fully understand it. Something about your departure unsettled him, something he couldn’t ignore.  

The days turned into weeks, and Ragnar’s frustration grew. Though he continued to fulfill his duties as a leader, there was a shadow on his face he couldn’t hide. At night, when the rest of Kattegat slept, Ragnar sat by the fire, staring at the flames and remembering every detail of you.  

Your laughter. The way you tilted your head when lost in thought. The times your eyes sparkled in a way that seemed to challenge the entire world.  

But he also remembered the signs he had ignored: the times you avoided looking at him directly, the moments when it seemed like you wanted to say something but stopped at the last moment. Had you been planning your departure all along?  

“It can’t be,” he murmured to himself. “She wouldn’t have left like that.”  

One day, after another failed attempt to get answers from your parents, Ragnar made a decision. If he couldn’t find you in Kattegat, he would have to look beyond its borders.  

He spoke to some of his trusted men, explaining that he needed to go on a journey. Though he didn’t share all the details, his determination was clear. Lagertha watched from a distance as he prepared to leave, her eyes full of disapproval.  

“How long will these useless searches take?” she asked, confronting him before he left. “You have responsibilities here, Ragnar. A family. If you keep acting as if none of this matters, you’ll end up losing everything.”  

Ragnar looked at her but didn’t respond. He knew her words carried weight, but he couldn’t stay. Something inside him wouldn’t let him.

And so, with the sound of horse hooves echoing against the ground, Ragnar left Kattegat, determined to find you, no matter how long it took or how far you were.  

Months had passed since your arrival, and although you had adapted to the routine of the place, exhaustion weighed on your body. The pregnancy made the days heavier, slower, but you couldn’t allow yourself to rest. You needed to prove you were useful, that you deserved a place in this remote corner of the world.  

That morning, as always, you got up early. The air was cold, and a thin layer of frost covered the grass. You felt slightly dizzy but ignored it. You had learned to hide any sign of weakness; after all, no one could suspect what you carried within.  

The work in the fields was arduous. The tools were rudimentary, and the soil seemed to resist every effort. But you had grown accustomed to this type of struggle: one not against others but against your own limitations.  

You were gathering roots when it happened. As you bent down, you lost your balance. Perhaps it was exhaustion or a lack of attention, but you tripped over a hidden stone and fell to your knees. The impact was brutal, sending sharp pain through your abdomen. You stayed still for a moment, trying to catch your breath as the world spun around you.  

“Are you all right?” Astrid’s voice reached you like a distant echo. She helped you to your feet, her eyes filled with concern.  

“Yes, I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile. But the cold sweat running down your back betrayed the truth.  

That night, the pain intensified. A persistent stabbing sensation in your abdomen forced you to double over, but still, you didn’t ask for help. The fear of your secret being discovered was greater than your fear of the pain.  

However, when the fever began to take hold of your body, you could no longer hide it. Astrid, who had noticed your pallor during the day, was the first to enter your cabin. Seeing your condition, she ran to fetch Sigrid, the settlement’s healer.  

Sigrid was an imposing woman, with steady hands and an expression that left no room for doubt. When she arrived, she found you trembling in your bed, your breathing shallow, and your cheeks burning with fever. Without saying a word, she began examining your body, her fingers searching for signs to confirm what you already feared.  

“How long have you been like this?” she asked, her tone stern.  

“I don’t know,” you murmured, unable to meet her eyes.  

Sigrid frowned and placed a hand on your abdomen. Her gaze darkened. “You’re young, but your body is weak. And this…” Her words trailed off, but her expression said it all.  

For two days, you fought the fever, drifting in and out of consciousness. You heard fragments of conversations around you: Astrid’s worried voice, Sigrid’s firm instructions. You felt the weight of cold compresses on your forehead and the bitter taste of the herbs they forced you to drink.  

But everything changed on the second night. The pain became unbearable, a fire that seemed to consume you from within. You tried to scream, but your voice came out as a choked whimper. Sigrid stayed by your side the entire time, her steady hands holding you as your body struggled against something it could no longer sustain.  

When it was over, the room fell silent. A heavy silence, laden with sorrow. Sigrid wiped her hands with a cloth and looked at you with an expression that was half compassion, half resignation.  

“I’m sorry,” she said simply.  

You didn’t need further explanations. You had lost it.  

The physical pain was intense, but the emotional pain was unbearable. For days, you could barely move. You spent hours lying in your bed, staring at the cabin’s ceiling as a sense of emptiness consumed you.  

You had made so many decisions thinking of protecting your child, and now everything seemed pointless. You had lost everything: your home, your family, Ragnar… and now your baby.  

Astrid became your only company. She brought you food and water, though you barely ate. “You need to take care of yourself,” she would say, but her words felt hollow. What was the point of taking care of yourself when there was nothing left to fight for?  

At night, silence was both your solace and your greatest torment. You closed your eyes and saw your baby’s face, even though you had never met them. You wondered if they would have had Ragnar’s eyes or your smile. But those dreams always shattered under the weight of reality.  

As the weeks passed, the settlement returned to its routine, but you felt disconnected. The laughter of children tore at your soul, and every time you saw a mother with her child, a pang of pain shot through your chest.  

Astrid, who had proven to be more than a friend, forced you to get up one day. “You can’t stay here forever,” she said, with a harshness you didn’t expect. “The world doesn’t stop for our pain. You have to move forward.”  

Although you resisted at first, you knew she was right. You couldn’t stay in the cabin forever, trapped in your grief. So, little by little, you returned to working in the fields, though every step was a reminder of what you had lost.  

Still, something inside you had changed. A part of you had died along with your child, and you knew you would never be the same again.  

Meanwhile, the sound of Ragnar’s horse hooves echoed across the rocky terrain as he approached another settlement, his face hardened by a mixture of hope and frustration. He had spent months traveling roads, speaking to merchants, explorers, and villagers. Each time he heard a rumor, no matter how vague, he followed it.  

This time was no different. A merchant who had passed through a remote settlement mentioned seeing a woman matching the description Ragnar had repeated countless times: dark hair, a sad look, a strange determination in her movements. It wasn’t a certainty, but Ragnar couldn’t afford to ignore it.  

The journey to the settlement was long, and Ragnar undertook it alone. His men had grown tired of the fruitless searches, and Lagertha no longer hid her disapproval. Yet he couldn’t give up. There was something about your absence that tormented him, a void no battle or conquest could fill.

When Ragnar arrived at the settlement, his eyes scanned quickly, searching among the passing faces. It was a small place, similar to many others he had visited: humble cabins, cultivated fields, and inhabitants working silently.  

He spent hours observing, speaking to locals, and trying to remain calm. At first, no one seemed to know anything. Most of the villagers looked at him cautiously, as if suspicious of his presence. But when he mentioned a woman who had arrived alone, an old woman working near the river lifted her gaze.  

“There is a woman,” she said in a hoarse voice. “She arrived a few months ago. She doesn’t talk much and works hard, but she always seems… lost.”  

Ragnar felt a spark of hope surge through him. “Where is she?” he asked, trying to control the urgency in his voice.  

The old woman shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in weeks. They say she got sick. Perhaps she left, or…” Her voice trailed off, as if unwilling to finish the sentence.  

Ragnar felt the ground shift beneath his feet. Could it be true? Were you sick? Had you died? The thought struck him harder than he expected.  

Not finding you at the settlement was a harsh blow. Ragnar had arrived there hoping to see you, even if only from afar, to confirm you were all right. Instead, all he found were more questions.  

The journey back to Kattegat was somber. Ragnar couldn’t help but wonder if he should abandon his search. He had spent months following a trail that seemed to vanish into thin air. Yet the thought of giving up filled him with an unbearable emptiness.  

When he returned home, Lagertha was waiting at the entrance, arms crossed. Her expression was serious, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.  

“Well?” she asked, her voice sharp.  

“She wasn’t there,” Ragnar replied, removing his cloak and dropping his bag to the floor.  

“How much longer will you keep this up?” Lagertha demanded, stepping closer to him. “People are starting to talk. They see you more obsessed with a woman who isn’t here than with your own family.”  

Ragnar looked at her with an intensity that made her pause. “You don’t understand, Lagertha. I can’t ignore this. She… I can’t explain it, but I feel something isn’t right. Something happened.”  

“And perhaps you’ll never know,” she replied, her tone softening. “Perhaps it’s time to leave the past behind and look ahead.”  

But Ragnar couldn’t. Though he didn’t tell Lagertha, something else haunted him: the sense that you had left to protect something, to hide something important. And until he had answers, he couldn’t let it go.  

His search didn’t end, just as your search for peace hadn’t either.  

Though the wounds still hurt both physical and emotional you knew you couldn’t let them consume you forever. You had spent months buried in your grief, refusing to look toward the future, but something within you a spark of life still clinging to the present urged you to rise from the bed.  

Your body was weaker than before. The fever and the loss had left their mark, but they had also taught you to value what you still had: the chance to move forward.  

Astrid was the first to notice the change in you. “I’m glad to see you on your feet,” she said one morning as you shared breakfast. Her warm smile reminded you that, although you had lost so much, there were still people who cared about you.  

The settlement was small, but its inhabitants were hardworking and supportive. A family that raised goats and sheep, the Ingvarssons, offered you work in exchange for food and a bit more stability. At first, you hesitated. The pain remained a constant weight, and you worried you wouldn’t meet their expectations. But you accepted, knowing you couldn’t rely on others forever.

The first days were tough. The work with the animals was exhausting, and many nights you came home with your hands full of scratches and your muscles tense. But there was something comforting in the routine: feeding the goats, caring for the newborn lambs, feeling the warmth of the animals as you helped them thrive.

“You’re good with them,” Ingrid, the matriarch of the family, said while watching you clean the stable. Her words surprised you. You had spent so much time feeling useless, as if everything you tried ended in failure, that hearing a compliment left you speechless.

“Thank you,” you finally replied, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

Over time, you started to integrate more into the settlement. The neighbors stopped seeing you as a stranger and began greeting you as you passed by. They invited you to small gatherings, where they shared stories and songs around the fire. Though at first, you felt out of place, you soon realized that you enjoyed those nights, the laughter, and the company.

Astrid was always by your side, making sure you didn’t feel alone. There was something about her presence that gave you strength, as if she knew exactly when you needed a push or a moment of silence.

However, despite the new beginnings, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you had lost. On quiet nights, when the settlement slept and the only sound was the murmur of the nearby river, you allowed yourself to remember.

You had kept a small baby garment that you had secretly sewn during the first months of your pregnancy. It was a small wool vest, simple but made with love. You kept it hidden in a corner of your cabin, wrapped in a clean cloth.

Every time you took it out, you held it between your hands as if it were the only bridge to the child you never got to know. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it. It was your only tangible connection to the life you had lost, a reminder of what could have been.

There were nights when you found yourself whispering to the air, as if the spirit of your baby could hear you. “I’m sorry,” you said, the words filled with guilt and sadness. “I wanted to protect you, but I failed.”

Despite your efforts to leave the past behind, Ragnar kept appearing in your thoughts. You wondered where he was, if he still thought about you or if he had already forgotten you. You had decided to leave to protect yourself and the baby, but sometimes you wondered if you had made a mistake by not trusting him.

There were moments when you wished he were with you, that he would hug you and tell you that everything would be okay. But you knew those thoughts were pointless. Ragnar had his own life, his own family, and you were no longer a part of it.

The months passed, and with them came a sense of stability. Though the wounds would never completely disappear, you learned to find comfort in the small things: the aroma of freshly baked bread, the laughter of the children in the settlement, the satisfaction of a job well done.

You had become an important part of the community. The Ingvarsson family spoke of you as if you were part of their family, and the other inhabitants of the settlement came to you whenever they needed help with something. You had built a new life, one that, though not perfect, gave you some peace.

However, every time you held the small wool vest between your hands, you felt that a part of you was still waiting. Waiting for something you didn’t even know how to describe.

And though you tried not to think about it, you knew your story with Ragnar was not over. The thread that connected you both was still there, tight and silent, waiting for the right moment to stretch again.

Days later, the day had begun like any other in the settlement. The fresh air filled your lungs as you worked in the fields, your hands accustomed to the weight of the tools and the constant rhythm of the work. The sun was high in the sky, and though sweat beaded on your forehead, you felt at peace. You had learned to find comfort in the routine, in the simplicity of the life you had built.

However, that peace was shattered the moment a figure appeared on the horizon.

At first, you didn’t pay much attention. It was common for solitary travelers to pass through the settlement, looking for provisions or a place to rest. But as the figure drew closer, something in you began to tense. There was something familiar in their walk, in the way they held their head high and their shoulders firm.

When you finally looked up to observe them more closely, your heart seemed to stop.

It was him.

Ragnar walked toward you with a determined step, his face marked by time and an endless search. Though years had passed, you recognized him instantly. His eyes were still the same: intense, filled with a mixture of determination and emotions you couldn’t decipher.

You dropped the tool you had in your hands, unable to move. Everything you had worked to bury the pain, the guilt, the love you still harbored deep in your heart surfaced all at once, hitting you like a furious wave.

Ragnar stopped a few meters away from you, his gaze fixed on yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, laden with unsaid emotions.

“Why?” was the first thing he said, his voice low but filled with reproach.

You didn’t need him to explain what he meant. You knew.

“Ragnar…” you whispered, but you couldn’t say more. The words seemed to stick in your throat.

“No,” he interrupted, taking a step toward you. “Don’t say my name as if that could fix anything. I searched for you. For years, I searched for you.”

His tone was rough, and you could see the mix of pain and anger in his eyes. “Do you know how much time I’ve spent wondering why you left? Why you didn’t say anything? Didn’t I deserve to know?”

His words pierced you, but they also sparked something inside you. All the pain and guilt you had silently carried for so long began to transform into anger.

“And what did you want me to say, Ragnar?” you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. “That I was pregnant with your child while you had your wife and your perfect life in Kattegat? That I was terrified of what others would say, of what my parents would think? What would have changed if you had known?”

“Everything,” he replied without hesitation.

His words took your breath away for a moment, but you refused to let him disarm you.

“That’s not true,” you said, crossing your arms. “You would have gone on with your life, and I would have been a burden. The only thing I did was protect myself and… and the baby.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Ragnar furrowed his brow, as if processing what you had said. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw something beyond the anger: pain.

“Where is it?” he asked finally, his voice barely a whisper.

Your heart broke upon hearing that question. You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t know,” you murmured. “I lost it.”

Ragnar seemed to stagger, as if your words were a physical blow. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, there was something broken in his expression.

“You didn’t tell me anything,” he repeated, his voice barely contained. “You stole the chance for me to know, to be there. You took away the chance for me to be its father.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t let him blame you for everything. “And what would your presence have done, Ragnar? Would it have prevented it from dying? Would it have changed what happened?”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice softer but still full of reproach. “But I would have been with you. You shouldn’t have gone through this alone.”

Ragnar’s words left you speechless. A part of you knew he was right, but another part was too hurt, too tired to admit it. You had done what you thought was necessary to protect yourself, to protect the baby, and though you knew it hadn’t been perfect, it was the best you could do at that moment.

“Ragnar, I… I can’t do this,” you said finally, your voice breaking. “I’ve spent years trying to rebuild my life. I can’t dig all of this up again.”

Ragnar looked at you with an intensity that made you feel naked, exposed. “I’m not here to destroy what you’ve built,” he said finally, his tone softer. “But I can’t ignore what happened, and I can’t ignore you. You… you still mean something to me.”

His words left a lump in your throat. You had waited so long to hear them, but now that you did, you didn’t know how to feel.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of emotions. Ragnar didn’t leave, and you didn’t know how to deal with his presence. Everything you had worked to forget seemed to return with force, threatening to break down the barriers you had built around your heart.

Despite everything, you knew this encounter was only the beginning. Ragnar wasn’t someone who gave up easily, and now that he had found you, he wouldn’t leave without answers.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, you felt a mix of fear and hope. The past had returned, and though you didn’t know how to face what was to come, a part of you knew this encounter would change your life forever.

The days following the reunion with Ragnar were a whirlwind of emotions and conflicts. His presence in the settlement shook your entire world, disturbing the balance you had worked so hard to build. Although you tried to stay firm in your decision to stay, Ragnar kept insisting that you return with him to Kattegat.

Ragnar was not a man who easily accepted a 'no.' Every conversation between the two of them turned into an intense argument, full of emotions and reproaches.

“You don't understand what you're asking,” you said one night, as the light from the fireplace illuminated the small space of your cabin. “I’ve worked for years to find peace here. I can’t go back and face everything I left behind.”

“And you think I found peace without you?” he replied, his voice low but filled with intensity. “I didn’t ask you to leave, I didn’t ask you to exclude me from your life. I don’t understand why you prefer to live among strangers rather than with the people who love you.”

“The people who love me?,” you repeated, incredulous. “Are you talking about you? About your parents? About Lagertha? How do you think my life would have been there? Always pointed at, always a secret.”

Ragnar clenched his lips, his eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t want you to be a secret,” he said finally, and his words took your breath away.

But you couldn’t let yourself be carried away by them. You couldn’t forget what you had gone through, or all that you had sacrificed.

Despite your constant refusals, Ragnar kept insisting. Not just for you, but because he wanted you to say goodbye to your parents. “You owe them that,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.

He was right, though it was hard to admit. You had left your parents without clear explanations, forcing them to carry the burden of your disappearance. You had avoided thinking about how they must have felt, but now that Ragnar brought it up, the guilt began to weigh heavily on you.

Finally, after days of arguments, you agreed to go with him to Kattegat. “Just to say goodbye,” you clarified, looking at him firmly. “This doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

Ragnar nodded but said no more. You knew this was just the first step for him.

The journey to Kattegat was long and silent. You traveled together, but barely spoke. Ragnar seemed focused, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of seriousness. As for you, you felt a constant knot in your stomach. Each step toward Kattegat felt like a weight pressing harder and harder on you.

When you finally arrived, the settlement seemed the same as always. The wooden houses, the docks, the bustle of the people; everything was intact, as if time had not passed. But for you, everything felt different. You had changed, and this place no longer felt like home.

The tension became evident as soon as Ragnar took you to his house. Lagertha was there, and her expression upon seeing you was anything but welcoming.

“What is she doing here?,” she asked, giving Ragnar a cold look.

“She’s come to say goodbye to her family,” he replied calmly, as though his tone could placate the evident hostility in the room.

Lagertha studied you closely, her blue eyes analyzing every detail of your face. “And why does she need your company for that?.”

You didn’t want to cause more problems than there already were. “Lagertha,” you began, trying to sound conciliatory, “I’m not here to stay. I just came to close a chapter of my life.”

“A chapter Ragnar seems too eager to dig up,” she retorted, her tone sharp.

Ragnar intervened before the argument could escalate. “This isn’t about you or me. This is about her and what she needs to do.”

Though his words seemed reasonable, they did little to calm things down. Lagertha remained silent, but you could feel the tension in her posture, in the way she avoided looking at you.

Seeing your parents was an emotional blow you hadn’t expected. Your mother hugged you tightly, tears running down her cheeks as she repeated your name as if she couldn’t believe you were there. Your father, more reserved, simply took you by the shoulders and nodded, his eyes shining with restrained emotion.

“We thought we would never see you again,” your mother said through her sobs. “Why did you leave without telling us where you were going?.”

You had no answer for them. All you could do was apologize, promising that it hadn’t been due to a lack of love.

The conversation was long and difficult. Your parents wanted you to stay, but you remained firm in your decision to return to the settlement. “This is no longer my home,” you told them, though the words broke your heart.

While you stayed in Kattegat, even if only for a short time, the tension between you, Ragnar, and Lagertha only grew. Ragnar tried to keep the peace, but his constant efforts to talk to you did not go unnoticed by Lagertha, who became colder with each passing day.

One night, Lagertha confronted Ragnar privately, but the walls weren’t thick enough to silence their words. “Why do you keep insisting on this?,” she asked, her voice full of anger. “What do you hope to achieve by bringing her here?.”

“I don’t hope to achieve anything,” Ragnar replied, though his tone betrayed the truth. “I’m just trying to fix what was broken.”

“You can’t fix everything, Ragnar,”

she shot back. “And if you keep trying, you’ll only break more.”

The time you spent in Kattegat was brief but intense. Although you managed to say goodbye to your parents and some of the people you had left behind, you couldn’t ignore the tension your presence created. Ragnar continued insisting that you stay, but you were determined to return to the settlement.

“This is not my place,” you told him one night, as you both stood in silence near the harbor. “You have your life here, and I have mine there.”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied, but he didn’t try to convince you anymore.

The days you spent in Kattegat after your arrival were filled with tension, and although you had planned to return to the settlement soon, Ragnar had other plans for you. It was on a quiet afternoon, while walking alone near the docks, that he approached you with a proposal that would change the course of everything: he wanted you to accompany him on his next journey.

“What do you say?,” he asked, with that mix of seriousness and enthusiasm that so characterized him. His eyes shone with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’ve only been here a few days. Going with you would complicate things even more.”

“What things?,” he asked, smiling slightly. “Lagertha? Me? Don’t worry about that. She understands that this journey is important.”

You knew that wasn’t entirely true. Lagertha wasn’t someone who accepted things easily, especially when it came to you. Still, there was something in the proposal that attracted you. You missed the feeling of traveling, of exploring new horizons, of losing yourself in unfamiliar landscapes. As much as you had built a peaceful life in the settlement, a part of you still longed for that freedom.

“Why do you want me to go?,” you finally asked, eyeing him warily.

Ragnar remained silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Because I think you need this as much as I do,” he said sincerely. “And because I want you to be with me.”

His words were simple, but they struck something within you. Although you knew accepting it would bring consequences, you couldn’t resist.

“Fine,” you agreed with a sigh. “But if this goes wrong, it’ll be your fault.”

He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “We’ll see about that.”

[imtryingbuck]

Jealousy? Never.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Ivar Ragnarsson x fem!Reader

Summary: Ivar the boneless jealous? Absolutely not.

Word count: 862

Warnings: possessive and jealous Ivar. fluff. slight angst. insecurity (ivar). naked reader - not sexual. mentions of murder (not detailed). shorter than i honestly wanted it to be, sorry.

A/N: thank you anon for sending this request🤍

Masterlist

Ivar’s jaw was clenched painfully tight that Ubbe thought he was going to crack a tooth or two. Jealousy burning his veins as he watched the scene before him. Hvitserk was playing with fire and he knew it, Ivar knew it, everyone in the Great Hall knew it, not that he cared as he continued to dance with Ivar’s queen.

You didn’t see a problem with having fun and have a dance with your brother in law, however your husband clearly thought differently, his blunt nails digging into the wooden arms of his throne, it wasn’t until he banged his crutches down loud enough to catch the attention from everyone in the room - without saying a word he walked out.

That was your queue to follow.

Bidding goodbye to Hvitserk and thanking him for a wonderful night, you made your way towards your shared chambers, twisting the lace of your dress nervously as you pushed the door open. “Husband.”

“Husband? I’m surprised you remembered.” He muttered as he unlanced his braces. “You were all over him tonight.”

“I-I was-”

“All over him! My brother.”

Flinching at his tone, you lowered her head. “It was a dance, nothing more. I promise.”

“He was all over you.”

“It was a dance Ivar I swear.” Carefully shuffling closer to him, to nervous of his reaction, when he didn’t react to your action you knelt down in front of him. “I was just having fun, I’m sorry.”

Raising his hand, he smoothed your hair out of your face - loving the way the soft strands felt against his rough fingers. “He wants to fuck you.”

“Don’t be silly.” The glare he gave you took the smile straight off of your lips. “I do not want him, I swear.”

“You are mine.”

“Yours, and yours only.” It was true, you didn’t want any other man, it was always Ivar from the moment you saw him one day in the market. He was sat on the steps leading up to the Great Hall, a scowl on his face as he watched people walk around, standing by your fathers stall as he spoke to a customer you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man. From that day on, you kept a look out for him, when you saw him crawling around you didn’t even find it weird or funny - not like your father. It took you nearly three months to gather the courage to speak to him, finding him sat on the beach on his own, you were a stuttering mess - only getting worse when he told you he was one of the princes of Kattegat, but from there a friendship was formed between the two of you. He told you several months later that when he became king he wanted you by his side as his wife and queen, at first you thought he was joking but his face said otherwise. When the brothers and the Great Heathen Army went to England to avenge king Ragnar’s death, Ivar made sure he took you with him, against the wishes from his brothers, whilst over there you two got married and from that moment he called you queen. “I love you and only you, Ivar.”

His only reaction was to pout. The ruthless, fearless Ivar the Boneless sat there on the bed he shared with his wife pouting. “You could if you want.”

“Could what, my love?”

“Have him, or-or anyone.” He whispered, twisting your wedding ring around. “It can not be easy with being married to a cripple.”

“I do not wish, want or need anyone else Ivar. I am happy, I am loved- you do love me d-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence! You know I love you.”

“And you know I love you.” Turning you hand around, linking your fingers with his. “Please never ever doubt me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was holding you.”

“We were just dancing Ivar.”

“Still don’t like it.” He huffed. “Only I get to touch you.”

“Yes, only you get to touch me.” Lifting up and walking over to the vanity you removed the heavy crown that was given to you by Ivar, you began to attempt to undo your dress.

“Want a hand, my love?”

“Please.”

“Come here then my beautiful queen.” Standing between his legs, your skin began to tingle as he fingers danced along your bare skin. Turning around as the dress pooled around your ankles, his hands went straight to your naked waist. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Climbing into bed after helping Ivar undress, he instantly pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around you. “Ivar?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I like it when your jealous.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m never jealous.”

“No, of course not.” Giggling at the memories of all the times Ivar threatened and even killed men who looked at you longer than he deemed necessary, doing it all out of jealousy. “The great Ivar the boneless doesn’t get jealous.”

Rolling his eyes once again with a soft smile tugging at his lips as your giggles filled the room. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Tags: @cheesesandwichsanto

[axelsagewrites]

Hello,

Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.

Ivar the Boneless*Shy

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 2081

Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff

Masterlist here

As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.

It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.

Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.

You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.

“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.

Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”

Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.

“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.

“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”

Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.

“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.

“What are you doing?”

“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.

“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”

“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.

For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.

“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.

“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”

“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.

“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”

“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.

“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”

“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.

 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.

-

The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”

-

Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.

He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.

Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”

With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.

-

You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.

“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.

He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”

“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.

None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.

“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”

“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”

“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.

-

While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.

“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.

Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.

“How have you been- “

“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”

A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.

“And now?”

You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.

“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”

Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”

“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.

“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”

He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.

-

For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.

You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.

“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”

“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.

“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,”

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[midnightstar16]

Whispers of Love: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Reader is new in Kattegat and catches the attention of a certain Ragnarsson.

Warnings: Assault, murder, slight swearing(i think)

You came to Kattegat just a couple days ago but it didn’t take much time at all for you to notice the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. You only saw them from a safe distance as they talked to one another. You noticed one of the boys was crippled but not before you saw his face. You were in awe, to say the least. But your eyes must have lingered on him for quite some time for he met your gaze with an intense stare that sent chills down your spine. You never had more reason to leave and go back to the hut you were staying in.

You became an orphan at the mere age of 12 and had taken care of the farm for many years with your older brother. But the two of you had recently decided that you wanted a far more exciting future than just farming on the land so you sold the land and took the money to buy a hut and look after yourself just until you had settled in. You forgot about Ivar soon enough once you reached you new home and moved on with your new life.

A month passed by and living in Kattegat was so much more different than the farm. It was much louder, faster and there were more people than you could count. But it was not to your dislike, it was the contrary actually. You had started your training to be a physician and you were doing nicely. Everything was working out better than you or your brother could’ve imagined.

Ivar had not stopped thinking about you ever since that little eye contact in the market and it may have been a bit delusional of him to still believe that he would see you again. You were probably not even in Kattegat anymore because he could not find you anywhere. You were the first girl to look at him with such admiration and he drowned in your beauty the second he laid eyes on you.

During dinner he seemed to have zoned out because Sigurd had to throw some food at him to get his attention. Ivar was immediately annoyed and glared at him. Trying to stop himself from flinging his axe at his brother, he asked, “Why are you throwing food around like a child?”

“You wouldn’t listen. Had to do something to bring you back to Midgard,” he replied.

Ivar rolled his eyes, already feeling great anger towards his brother but before he could say anything, his mother interrupted, “We are celebrating Yol tomorrow.”

Ivar drowned in his thoughts once more. He would know if you were in Kattegat by tomorrow night. If you were in the town, then you would be at the feast and he would approach you. He wanted to know all there was to know about you; all the important and unimportant things of your life.

You and Kalf, your brother began cleaning up the plates and horns after dinner. You broke the silence, “It is Yol tomorrow. There will be a great feast.”

“Yes, I have not been in the Great Hall since the Thing, where I got my arm ring. Just thinking about the food that will be there makes me hungry all over again,” Kalf spoke excitedly.

“We have just had dinner, you fool. How are you always this hungry?” You spoke laughingly.

“Your cooking will make any man excited to eat something else,” he commented.

Gasping, you threw the nearest thing you could find at him at which he simply laughed. You spoke sarcastically, “I won’t make food for you if you really hate it that much.”

“Well, I mean it’s not THAT bad if I think about it,” he retaliated.

Smiling smugly, you spoke, “Better.”

The feast was spectacular. You sat on a different table from your brother though because you knew he would embarrass you the first chance he got. The food and the ale was so good you could feast all night. There was music as well and many were dancing to it but you weren’t drunk enough yet to give yourself away to the music. You simply talked and laughed with your newly made friends.

Looking around the hall, you suddenly noticed certain eyes on you and then the memory came back. Those blue piercing eyes and that face, he was perfect in every way. You maintained the eye contact for long, getting lost in his eyes until one of your friends whispered, “That’s Ivar. The crippled one.”

You looked at her. You had heard of Ragnar Lothbrok’s crippled son. The girl continued, “They say he is a menace, quicker to anger than most men, so don’t let his legs fool you and not only that, but I’ve heard that he is stronger and better at fighting than any of his brothers. Apparently he strangled a boar with his bare hands but that is probably not true.”

“Of course it is not true,” you scoffed. After waiting a second, you suggested, “Come, let us dance. The music is lovely.”

The both of you giggled and rushed to give yourself away to the music. You soon felt the beat through your veins and the rhythm matching with your heartbeat. You danced uncontrollably, partly because you wanted to see how the crippled prince would react, if at all. His eyes had barely faltered from you and it was making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want him to know that he made you feel weak by simply looking at you but every now and then you would give him a glance.

You suddenly felt a hand around your waist. You didn’t know who the man was for you had never seen him. His hold on you was not budging when you struggled. His other hand was roaming at places on your body that made you terrified and the hall was crowded enough for no one to truly notice your struggle.

“Let go of me!” you said, struggling.

“Oh what’s a bit of harmless fun? Especially with a woman of your beauty,” the man spoke.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he continued to ‘dance’ and play around with your body until something that you hadn’t expected in a million years to happen. A knife suddenly struck his head as his eyes remained widened with shock. You quickly stepped away as his body fell to the ground. The tears ran down your face and you looked around trying to figure out who it was until you saw everyone looking at Ivar who was glaring at the man’s limp body. It was different to how he had looked at you in every singly way but you didn’t stay around to find out more. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, you stormed out of the hall with Kalf following.

“What happened back there?” Kalf spoke worriedly.

“I-…” you hesitated. Before you could speak, your brother interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me. It is fine… Come on, let us go to our hut.”

Ivar had had his eyes on you all evening, his brothers even teasing him about it but he quickly turned them away angrily. But when he saw that asshole trying to touch you without consent, Ivar felt an uncontrollable anger. He wanted to skin the bastard alive but he couldn’t simply watch you struggle like that. Even after killing the man, Ivar felt no guilt. Why should he? He was simply protecting you, making sure you were safe.

No one had asked him about why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was already too obvious. Perhaps he had scared you off. You wouldn’t even want to go near him now. He felt his insecure thoughts weighing him down during the night.

You barely slept through the night, the picture of the knife piercing the man’s skull replaying in your mind and then seeing the look Ivar had on his face. That menacing look, the one that could take down entire armies.

The next day, you went away from the town to feel the quiet of nature that you had already begun to miss. You walked around the forest, finding a riverbank to sit nearby quickly enough. You thought about what had happened last night, how, in some really fucked up way, Ivar saved you. But he also killed a man who will never experience Valhalla now. Then again, that monster didn’t deserve Valhalla. You sat there wondering what would’ve happened if Ivar had not intervened.

“Mind if I join you?” you heard a voice from behind. When you turned your head and saw that it was Ivar, you quickly stood up.

“Were you following me?” you realised in this moment, you were terrified of him.

“Will it help if I said no? Either way, you walk too fast so I had to find you myself,” he spoke. When you didn’t say anything, it didn’t take him long enough to realise how you felt, “You are scared of me.”

Scoffing, you reasoned, “Who wouldn’t be? You killed a man while I was simply inches away.”

“He was hurting you,” Ivar remarked as if that was reason enough.

“But you could’ve killed me,” you argued.

Ivar grinned, “I didn’t though, did I?”

“Well… No but still, it was terrifying,” you said while Ivar made himself comfortable by sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree.

Even though Ivar worked very hard to not show it, he had been very nervous to actually talk to you. Now that you were here, he didn’t want to ever leave.

You stood there silently before sitting down in front of him. What was it about him that you felt so drawn towards?

He looked at you lovingly, “What is your name?”

“Y/N is what they call me… But I already know who you are, Ivar,” you acknowledged.

“Do you?” Ivar joked.

“That anger in those gorgeous eyes of yours, how could you be mistaken?” you replied.

“My eyes are ‘gorgeous’?” he couldn’t control his smile.

You blushed, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t mind the compliment though, please, y/n, carry on about my gorgeous eyes,” he teased. Truth was, he felt a thousand butterflies. He’d never gotten a compliment from anyone.

The two of you continued making jokes at one another, laughing constantly and time flew by ever so quickly. Ivar couldn’t believe the sun was about to set. With you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He felt at peace.

When his brothers asked where he had been, he simply smiled and shrugged. For the first time in so long, he didn’t feel furious. There was something about you, like you were a goddess who appeared to save him. The next day Ivar went up to the same place, hoping you would show up. He was almost about to leave until he saw you show up.

You finished your work as a physician for the day as quickly as you could and relied on your friends to cover up for you. Once out of Kattegat, you practically ran to the same spot on the riverbank as yesterday. You didn’t know how but you just knew that he would be there, nor did you know why you felt so eager to go to him either.

You continued these secret meetings for as long as you could. No one was aware of who or where you actually went but you didn’t care even if they found out. Ivar had become your sanctuary as you had become his.  

During one such evening, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the riverbank, you found yourselves lost in a conversation filled with laughter. Ivar had a knack for weaving humor into every exchange, and you found yourself charmed by his wit and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.

Ivar grinned, his eyes dancing with mirth. "See? I told you I was the funniest person you'd ever meet."

Laughing, you shook your head. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth filling his eyes. "I'm glad you find me amusing, y/n."

You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You have a way with words, Ivar."

He chuckled softly. "Only when I'm with you."

The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and before you could think, you found yourself leaning in closer to him.

Ivar's hand gently brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "You're beautiful when you laugh, y/n."

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Ivar reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. His touch was tender, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

As your lips clashed with an overdue feeling of affection for one another, Ivar kissed you passionately and possessively almost as if declaring that you were his.

You pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Ivar's eyes once more, a sense of belonging settling deep within your soul.

“I am yours, y/n, now and forever and you are mine,” Ivar’s words echoed in your heart as you buried your eyes in his, expressing a thousand unspoken words.