#ragnar the younger fanfiction

[loki-of-asgardd]

I cried a lil bit.

You will return to me one day

Pairing: Ragnar The Younger x Fem!reader

Warnings: grammatical errors, kisses and stuff like that, longer story

please let me know your feedback!!

not my gifs!!

You already had snow on your face, it could have been many years.  And you still thought only of him.  For your love.  Murdered love.

You never forgave it.  You wanted to kill Aethelwold with your own hands, but Uhtred overtook you. You wanted to scream, cry and die.  Yes, you wanted to die.

You loved Ragnar so much it hurt.  It was not simply granted for you.  In this life.

You remembered the first meeting with him.  There was always a smile on your face, but tears in your eyes.

"I'm bringing a message. From our commander," you said, trying not to stare at his naked back.  Ragnar simply bathed in the stream as you were aiming your sword at his neck.

"Really? What's the matter?"  you heard a smirk in his voice.

"We will attack your camp. The commander wants only one thing from you, and that is an excuse. You can save the lives of innocent men."

Ragnar laughed.  "So your commander is a real weakling and a coward. Let him come. I like to spill blood."

"As you wish, Ragnar The Younger."  you snapped, then continued.  "I'm leaving now. Will you give me your word of honor for letting me go?"

"Yes. But I'll see you later."  as soon as he finished, you quickly disappeared.  He didn't even have time to turn around.  It's good he didn't see you.  He doesn't know what you look like.  That's good.

And he was right.  You saw each other.  You were covered in blood and he looked at you amusedly.  You aimed your sword at him.  Damn, you lost!  These Danes did not give up so easily.

"I know you, girl."  Ragnar grinned.

"You do not know me!"  you shouted, still aiming at him.  "Damn, fight me!"

Ragnar laughed.  He was still laughing.  That made you very angry.  Conceited Viking!

And suddenly he attacked you.  Still with a smile on his lips.  You fought him as best you could, but you lost.  You didn't want to admit defeat.

"Come on. Stop it, girl. You'll just be exhausted," he said mockingly.

"I'll never give up. What, are you exhausted?"

"Never," he said, attacking.  You managed to deviate and he fell into the snow.

The whole Viking camp that watched your fight laughed.  The great Viking was defeated by an ordinary girl!  They had fun with it!

But you don't.  You wanted to have peace and go home.  And forget about everything.

"You're defeated," you snapped but didn't kill him.  You were too weak for that.  Come on, you've already recognized the truth yourself.  You wanted to turn around and escape when something stopped you quickly.

That something was Ragnar.  All wet from the snow.  "I'm not giving up so easily. You belong to me,"

And you already knew you couldn't get home so easily.

You were attracted to him, he was attracted to you, and that wasn't good.  You wanted to leave so you wouldn't give in to this Viking.

The days passed.  Ragnar trained you.  He told you he would keep you.  The fights were full of tension ... specifically sexual tension.  And you didn't like it.  One night you decided to escape.  The moon was full, for those pagans certainly a sign of God, but for you, it was a sign of hope.

Most of the camp was asleep and you slowly disappeared from the camp.  You have to go. 

You rode your horse and ran into the woods.  You didn't want to believe it.  Was it so easy?

You got the answer to your question.  No, it wasn't.  Someone was chasing you.  And you knew very well who it was.

"Let me go, Ragnar!"  you shouted.

"I can't! I need a strong warrior like you!"  he shouted back.  You didn't give up.  Not this time either.  You ran away and so did he.  Eventually, you reached the river where you had once aimed at his back.  You were trapped.  You couldn't escape, the current of the river was too strong.

Too strong?  Damn it!  So I'll drown!  You said and jumped off your horse.  You patted him on the back.  His role is over.  You had to hurry, Ragnar could have been here for a while.

You took a deep breath and jumped into the river.  It was cold, icy, the ice amazed you.  But you still swam.  Against the flow.  I'll save myself, you encouraged yourself.  But you felt the current taking you, fighting you until you finally gave up.  You were already too exhausted.  Your body weakened and began to fall lower and lower.  Your world plunged into darkness.  But the last thing you saw in your mind was his face.

You could see his face even after waking up.  You snorted water and he was above you.  He looked scared.  He hugged you quickly and put the furs over you.  Where were you?  You didn't know.  But you felt the presence of fire.

"I saved you. You were almost dead,"  he muttered.

"You ... you jumped into that river for me?"  you didn't want to believe it.

He nodded slowly as if he was ashamed.  You talked.  "Thank you ..." and then you fell into a good sleep.

You woke up on someone's chest.  Someone was stroking your back.  Ragnar.  You turned around.  He was sleeping.  He was beautiful.  You wanted to kiss him, but you were very ashamed of your thoughts.  You just buried her head on his shoulder.

He woke up in a few minutes.  You were already upstairs.  You made soup over the fire, but he stopped you.  "Stop it. You're weak."

"I'm not. And besides, you were in that water too. Here you go, I made us soup."  you took it from him.

He looked at you in disbelief, but he took that soup.

"It is good. So good warrior and also good cook?"

"Ehrm. Thank you. I am glad you like it," you thanked him.

You took a deep breath.  You say it now or never.

"I'm sorry, Ragnar. I was acting stupid. I shouldn't have gone into that water," you said, wanting to continue, but he stopped you.  He put his finger to your lips.  "Shut up, beauty. I acted like a fool too. I should have let you go. Not hold you forcibly. You know, I thought you were dead by that river. My heart stopped for a moment ... I wouldn't survive."

You took his hand.  You kissed his finger.  He stared at you (or rather at your lips?) in astonishment.  "First of all, I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry. I won't do it anymore ... and you didn't hold me forcibly. I love it there. I was just scared ..."

"Of what?"  he was interested.

You blushed.  "I'm not sure I should tell you."

He grinned.  His grin warmed your heart.  "I'm interested now. I love this blush," he stroked your cheek.  That wonderful intimacy of that moment took your breath away.

"Ehrm. I ... I feel for you ... and I shouldn't ..."

"Do you feel anything for me, dear?"  Ragnar indulged in your suffering.

You chased him.  "Stop bothering me. I know you don't feel anything for me, so leave it at that."

He looked serious.  "You fool. Of course, I feel for you! I love you. I realized it by the river when you aimed at my back."

"Really? You ..." you didn't want to believe it.

"Yes, I just want you. I want to love you, I want to marry you, I want to make love with you!"  at the last mention, you laughed and poked him gently in the stomach.  Ragnar laughed, but then became serious.  He looked at your lips and kissed you.

He was very passionate.  Predatory.  You held him by the head and suddenly you were on him and he was under you.  You kept kissing.

"I want you. Now," you muttered to him.

"Whew. How impatient," Ragnar laughed, but he couldn't be forced long.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him in your arms.  You held him in your arms even though he was dead a few years later.  You didn't want to believe he died, that all these beautiful moments ended suddenly.  But he died.  He died at the hands of the killer.  And you weren't there.

You were still waiting for him.  By that river.  You hoped he would come back one day.  You knew he would come one day.  As the road remains to go.  You still recognized his palm, his touch.  Dreams remained, he still visited you in them, he still warmed you, memories also remained.

But he doesn't.

And once, on a sunny summer day, when you were lying by that river, you saw him.  Naked bathing in that stream.  "Will you join me, dear?"

You got up immediately and found out it was you again.  You were young again.

You ripped your clothes off, you didn't need them, you just needed him.

You immediately jumped into his arms.  With crying.  He kissed your tears and hugged you indefinitely.  He whispered only soft words to you.  "I will never leave you again, beauty. Never."

And he never left you.  You were in that river until the river dried up, until the end of time.

[kilojulietsierra]

In Good Hands (Ragnar Ragnarson x OFC)

Couldn’t help myself, had to do one more for my favorite Ragnar the Younger!

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of death and violence, childhood sweethearts to lovers, first kiss, flirting, jealousy, naked cuddling, smut

~~~

Earl Ragnar watched his son further up the beach talking to Saga, the brown haired, green eyed daughter of one of his men. The younger Ragnar was smiling, which was often the case when he and Saga were together, but the girls smile was softer, sadder than normal. "We should take her with us." His wife appeared beside him. "This again?" Ragnar acknowledged his wife briefly before returning to readying the ship. "They are children." "Who is it that says every day how Ragnar is a man now, ready to be blooded in battle." She emphasizes the last part with a gruffer tone to mimic his own. When she receives nothing more than a disgruntled scoff she continues on, "Saga will be of marrying age soon." "She will." "And Ragnar certainly..." "Ragnar is sailing to fight, not to hump." Ragnar finally turns to face her fully. "Once we are settled, have our lands, her family will come soon enough. Then we will see. " ~~~ "Will you miss me?" She asked, smiling, but trying to hide the tinge of sadness inside. Young Ragnar smiled down at her, "Of course." He pauses and then adds, with mischief in his eyes, "Though not for long."   The remark earns him a hard shove to his chest though it doesn't budge him an inch. "You're a pigs ass." Ragnar laughs and catches her hands before she can assault him further, "I only mean... that your family will be soon behind us. Father has said so." She does not respond, face still indignant, but she also does not pull her wrists from his grip. "Ragnar!" His fathers voice booms down the beach, over the sound of the tide. "It is time!" Young Ragnar looked his fathers way and nods before turning back to Saga, his own smile softer now, less teasing. "Would you kiss me before I go?" Saga blinks up at him, considering, before turning her face to the side and presenting her cheek. Again Ragnar laughs, smile wider at her teasing, but all the same he drops a light kiss against the corner of her eye. He rested his lips there for a moment, "I will miss you." When he pulls back he can see that her eyes are misty, but she takes a deep breath and sets her face. Her hands come up to his jaw, his grip still gentle around her wrists, and she tugs him back down to her. "The next time I see you Ragnar Ragnarson, you will be a man." She kisses him, shy and sweet, on the lips and pulls back only enough to look him in the eye, "Now go, earn your reputation." Ragnar beams, moves his right hand to cup her cheek as gently as he could and rests his forehead against hers. Both of them closing their eyes and soaking in the moment, the damp air and the sound of the sea, the touch of eachother and the racing of young hearts. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Do you not have your own family to harass Ragnar Ragnarson?" Saga teased as young Ragnar trotted into camp on his big black horse and pulled up to a stop in front of her. "I can do that whenever I want." He tossed back at her with a grin as he swung down from the saddle. Saga shook her head as she patted the horse on his huge, blazed face. The war horse leaning into her gentle and familiar touch. "And my suffering is a special occasion?" Ragnar approached her, one hand resting on the steeds neck. "Very special." They stared at eachother for a moment smiling. Finally she broke the silence, "And what is your excuse this time?" "No excuse," Ragnar shook his head, "More ships are coming, I'm riding down the river to meet them." When Saga said nothing he continued, explaining his reasoning further, "Come with me." "Ragnar..." She looked around the farm, "Father will hang me from the rafters if I sneak away." "I'll ask him myself." His face was earnest, his voice sure. A reminder he was no longer the boy she had grown up with. "Really?" Saga seemed unconvinced, but an exciting little glint of hope lit within her. Ragnar merely winked and handed her the reins to his horse as he stepped past her, poking her in the side as he passed.   Still standing by the horse Saga occupied herself by undoing a fairy knot in the beasts mane, while she watched. Ragnar and her father speak for a moment. She noticed, for the first time, that her father now had to look up to speak to the younger man face to face. The little glint inside her grew, warming her from the inside out. When her father looked her way she held her breath and stood up straight, goosebumps rising on her arms upon her fathers nod. Young Ragnar was beaming as he approached, "C'mon then." "You'll have to help me saddle a horse." Saga reminded him but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face caught her off guard. Not near so much as when he took hold of her waist and hoisted her up into the saddle. "Ragnar Ragnarson, what are you doing!?" She hissed at him. Mortified at what her father would do. Ragnar did not share her concern. He only grabbed the reins and a hand full of mane before swinging onto the horses back behind her. "I told you," Her breath caught in her chest as he settled in close against her back and wrapped his arms around her to take the reins, "Taking you to the river to watch the ships come in." She had thought for certain her father would drag him down from his horse as they walked past, but much to her  surprise he only hid a small smile and patted the horse on the rump as they walked by. ~~~ Her cheeks hurt from smiling as they ran across an open clearing on the other side of the woods. The horse had a smooth and comfortable gait, Ragnar was a solid presence behind her. His right arm held her tight around the middle and she could feel as much as hear him laughing behind her. At the top of a rise he pulled the horse to a stop. Even though they had stopped his arm still kept her held tight. Ragnars voice was clear, cheerful, if a little breathless from the laughter. "There they are. See them?" He lifted his right hand to point to the string of ships rowing their way up the river but he immediately curled his arm back around her again. "There's more than a dozen." Saga said, not expecting so many. "And more will come. Always more." He spoke so close to her ear it made her shiver and Ragnar chuckled, holding her tighter and pressing his nose into her hair. "Are you cold girl?" His lips brushed against her ear and she shivered again, "Or ticklish?" He dug his fingers into her side and squeezed, causing her to flinch and shy away from him with a gasp. She flinched so much the horse had to shift his weight, but Ragnar did not cease until she was bent over the horses neck, swatting at his hand, yelling for him to stop between fits of uncontrollable laughter. Taking mercy on her he stopped his attack, his own laughter full and loud as he pulled her back up to sit, leaning her against his chest. Laughter still in his voice he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Saga shivered again, but this time rather than teasing Ragnar simply held her tighter and looked back to the ships. His voice low, "I remember when you and your family arrived, with the rest of fathers ships." He paused, smiling to himself when he felt her lean further into him, her hand moving to cover his, lacing their fingers together. He smiled wide and pressed another kiss behind her ear, "I came to this spot every day until I caught sight of the ships." "Don't pretend you were waiting only for me." Finally with her wits returned she snarked back at him. The smile in his voice evident he defended himself, "Believe what you want, but I was happy to see you." Her hand squeezed his as she stared at the ships creeping closer and closer, "You'll have ships of your own soon." " I will." Ragnar agreed. "Would you come to the water and see me off? Kiss me goodbye again?" "Would you come back to me again, if I did?" Her voice was solemn now, and quiet. Ragnar did not hesitate. "If that's what the fates have decided," He paused, took a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, "And I believe it is." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Saga!" Saga turned and saw the boy approaching her. She smiled," Jonas, what are you doing here?" She stood up from the work she was doing and smiled. "My sister said she saw you collecting walnuts the other morning, I know you enjoy them so I brought you these." He held up a small sack, "They've already been dried and soaked." With a smile Saga climbed up the creek bank to approach him, "That's very thoughtful Jonas. Will you sit and have some with me?" He beamed, "I would like that." The two of them sat on a rock overlooking the creek snacking on what nuts they could open. Jonas sat on one side of the boulder with a smaller stone in his hand so that he could smash the hard hulls open. "Will your family be there tonight? The feast to celebrate young Ragnar before he and his men leave for Irland?" Saga asked as she picked the meat of a nut out of the crumbled shell. Jonas paused, a particularly hard shell sitting on the boulder between them, "Yes, we will be there. I will get to see you twice in one day." He gave her a shy smile. Saga laughed, "How unfortunate for you, I hope that does not ruin the fun for you." Wiping her skirt off she stood up and closed the sack of walnuts. "I should be getting home, but thank you again for these. I will see you tonight." Jonas watched after her as she headed down the long trail towards her family s farm. Thinking about seeing her at the feast again that night brought a smile to his face. With two more hard hits of the stone in his hand he was finally able to crack open the last shell. Still smiling, thinking of Saga, he popped the nut in his mouth and headed back towards his families own farm. ~~~ The hall was full to bursting and so loud Saga could barely hear herself think. She was glad she had found a spot close to the fire but behind Earl Ragnar and some of the other men where they were retelling stories of their own younger days. Young Ragnar, whom the celebration was for, was sitting across the fire from her and next to his Grandfather. He was watching her where she sat, trying her best to crack more walnuts open with the blunt handle of a knife with little to no luck. She was about to give up on her treat all together when she happened to glance up and see young Ragnar watching her. He smiled, then leaned in close to hear something Ravn had said to him. Ragnar listened and then looked back to her, smiling to see she was still watching and then he turned to speak into his Grandfathers ear. A moment later the older man was smiling and patting his grandson on the arm and then Ragnar stood up and moved through the crowd to join her on the opposite side. "Still eating? Is the feast not enough for you?" He teased as he came close. Patting the young man next to her roughly on the shoulder, a wordless order to move. As a response Saga kicked out with her foot and caught Ragnar in the shin. Hard enough to make him grimace but also laugh as he plopped down next to her. "It would be a shame for me to have to kill you at your own party." Ragnar laughed more as he got comfortable, "Now why would you do that?" He watched with mirth in his eyes as she attempted to bludgeon open one of the nuts. "For calling me fat!" "I did no such thing." He moved to drape his arm around her shoulders, "What is this you're trying to do?" Not waiting for the answer he took the blade from her hands and stuck it in the wall behind them. "Trying to open these stubborn things." She scowled at him as he took her blade. "Here, let me see." Ragnar reached across her lap to grab a handful from the small sack beside her. With a smile, like he was about to tell her secret, he leaned in close and dropped all but two in her lap. Holding the two in his one hand he closed his fist around them and watched her eyes snap open, as the shells crunched. When he opened his fist the two shells were nothing but crumbles and the walnuts within were revealed. Ragnar watched as she plucked the walnuts from his hand, grinning at how careful she was to avoid touching his hand. Tossing the shells into the fire he reached for two more and again, cracked them open in his one bare hand. This time however he popped the walnuts into his own mouth. "Hey!" She swatted at him, "They're mine!" "I'm the one doing all the work." He ignored the smack to his chest and grabbed two more to crack. Unable to stop smiling, watching Saga reach for her cup of ale, Ragnar held his hand out flat, offered it to her and waited for her to reach for them only to snap his fingers closed and refuse her. "Ragnar Ragnarson, I swear! You could teach a donkey a thing or two about being an ass!" She shoved her shoulder into him hard but he took it in stride, only tightening the arm around her shoulders to tug her closer. "Now that's not nice." He chuckled, pressing his forehead into the side of hers, "Here", he lifted his hand, but pulled it away when she reached for it. Shaking his head his whispered in her ear, "Let me." Her eyes shot open wide and a flush crept to her cheeks, only made worse by his next words. "Open your mouth." Suddenly out of her depths and her heart racing Saga wasn't sure how to respond and so, she did the only thing she could think to do. Do as she was told. So, she opened her mouth the tiniest bit and her heart caught in her throat as Ragnar carefully placed the treat in her mouth. As she began to chew she heard him chuckle but this time it wasn't teasing. Based on the look on his face and the low rumble behind the quiet laughter, Ragnar was pleased. With his left hand toying with her hair he pointed to the sack of goodies with the other, "Grab a couple. You try." "Very funny." Saga brushed some shells to the floor, ignoring him. "I'm serious, there's a trick to it, I'll show you." "Oh there's a trick to it..." Saga rolled her eyes, "I thought you were just that strong." A sharp, quick tug to her hair had her giggling, remembering all the times he had done that as a boy. "Stop teasing, do as I say." He grunted out a huff of air as her elbow connected with his ribs but still he laughed, watching as she placed two walnuts in the palm of her hand. "Now, use one to crack the other." Helping her he placed them a certain way and then told her to squeeze her hand tight. She squeezed and squeezed to no avail. Beside her Ragnar was chuckling, egging her on. "Harder! Harder! Don't weaken!" Finally taking pity on her he wrapped his hand around hers, nearly covering it completely, and helped her. Squeezing carefully but with enough force for the shells to shatter. Saga laughed as they both opened their hands, "Victory!" Ragnar laughed into his cup of ale as he watched her pick out the pieces to eat, "They put up a good fight." He watched, arching his brow as her face changed before him. Then very slowly, as if doubting herself, she raised one up to his mouth, "Open." Ragnar felt a bolt of lighting shoot down his spine and his left hand grabbed a firm hold of her shoulder. Only hesitating a moment he opened his mouth and watched as her fingers came closer, only to stop a breath away and quickly retreat to place the walnut on her own tongue, where it lingered long enough to taunt him before disappearing behind her lips. He laughed out loud, "You little shit." his right hand reaching to grab hers and stop her from stealing the last of them. They struggled for a moment, both tugging and pulling, both becoming breathless with laughter. As he finally won the wrestling match. Saga relinquished and placed the last walnut in his waiting mouth, shivering when his lips brushed over the tips of her fingers. Together they settled down, their breath calming but their eyes on fire and staring at each other. Ragnar pulled her closer, but it was Saga that broke the tension. Her voice soft and uncertain, "It's going to be so long before I see you again..." She let her hand move to hold his forearm for comfort, "What if you don't remember me? What if you forget about me and moments like this?" In an instant his face becomes serious, his eyes soften, "Never." He cups her face gently and holds her gaze, "I'll think of you every night when I close my eyes. I know I will." Slowly, his eyes watched hers closely as he leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers once. Then a second time, both of them more sure,  and Ragnars eyes fell closed as Saga relaxed deeper into his arms. His hand still held her cheek, he stroked his thumb over her brow. Saga leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in deep, "What if I am married while you are gone?" Ragnar’s jaw clenched, his eyes slid closed for a moment as he copied her deep breath. When he opened his eyes and held her gaze his voice was honest and his hold on her firm, "Then I hope he takes care of you, treats you well until I return and can have you for myself." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Earl Ragnar, as he was now known after the death of his father, sat at the head of the hall with the others. A celebration for the arrival of more men for the Dane army. Ragnar sat and drank and joked with the others but could not quite feel lighthearted enough to really join in. A new group entered the hall and one of them caught his attention. "Excuse me boys." He hefted himself out of his seat and worked his way through the hall to the man he recognized. "Ragnar!" The older man welcomed him with open arms and a strong hug. They embraced each other. "Look at you, a man and a warrior to make your father proud." He patted him on both shoulders, "It is a pleasure to see you Lord. You have my sword, and all my men. We are glad to see you returned. Glad to serve the Earl Ragnar." "And you friend. I am happy to see you as I'm happy to have you with me. As you were with my Father." Ragnar truly was happy to see his fathers man, but almost immediately his mind wandered to Saga. Her father must have noticed something cross Ragnar’s face because he smiled, "Saga will be pleased to see you returned as well. " Ragnar blinked, his back straightened, "Saga, she is here?" Her father smiled, and motioned across the hall. "She is there." She was there. On the far side of the hall among a group of men and women laughing and drinking. He could see well enough to know it was her, but one thing stood out to him clearly. "She wears her hair down." "Her husband was lost, last spring." When Ragnar turned to face the elder man, there must of been something in his eyes that belied his questions, "Go to her Ragnar, she will be glad to see you." Ragnar paused a moment looking from Saga to her father. He embraced him tightly once more and began to wade his way through the crowd. Saga did not see him approach until he was nearly in front of her. Immediately her face fell in shock. "Ragnar?" She looked him up and down, "Gods it is you!" She nearly threw herself at him and he caught her easily and with a smile. Wrapping his arms around her tightly and lifting her two feet off the ground. He held her there, her arms around his neck and their temples pressed together. "I have missed that smile." Ragnar told her. Then squeezing her tighter he whispered to her, "I've missed you." She sighed happily as he set her down, keeping her close. "I've missed you, and your hugs." Ragnar squeezed her tightly once more, grinning as she reached up to hold his face in her hands. "Look at you." She gazed up at him smiling, her thumb smoothing over the new ink adorning his brow. "You approve?" He released her, only to hold her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his smirk tilting up in one corner. Saga laughed, "I do." She continue to smile up at him. Ragnar looked her over, taking in the sight of her for the first time in years. "Come, sit with me." He took her hand in his and pulled her towards the front of the hall towards his seat. Not even waiting for her protest though one did not come. At least until they come close to the lords table, taken over by the leaders of the Danes. She tugged at his hand, pulling him to a stop, "Ragnar, wait." He turned to face her, confused, "What's wrong?" "Are you sure this is..." "Have you mourned your man?" He interrupted her, stepping in close to her. When she nodded he continued, "Have you taken another?" She shook her head.  "Do you still think of me as you did when we were younger?" Her slight blush gave him his answer but he waited for her nod. "Then let them see. You are my woman, and I am your man." He looked her over intently, "If that is what you still want." He waited patiently and was pleasantly surprised when she tightened her grip on his hand and this time pulling him along. Ragnar smiled and caught up to her pulling her close, his hands on her waist and spoke in her ear, "There she is." His comment earned him an elbow in the ribs and he laughed. At the table Saga turned to look for a chair but before she could find one she found herself instead pulled down into Ragnars lap. His hold on her strong, his body against hers solid, but she was comfortable and happy. When he would kiss her it was somehow both, like they had not seen each other in years and like they had never parted. Each time he would look up at her, pleased she was there, in his arms where she belonged once again. ~~~ Saga released a deep sigh and felt herself sink further into the bed, the furs and into Ragnar’s warmth. Ragnar was resting back against the headboard of the bed and a stack of pillows, Saga laid against him, her back to his chest and her head on his shoulder.  His sword hand lay around her shoulders and against her bare chest. Her fingers fiddling with his. "What are you thinking?" Ragnar asked softly. "For a man with so many muscles you are very soft and comfortable." Saga teased   In retaliation Ragnar reached to tweak a nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. When Saga squealed and shied away form his touch he laughed and pulled her tighter against him. "Tell me what you're really thinking." When she turned over to face him her smile was soft and so he softened his grip on her. Stroking his hand up and down her naked back. She enjoyed the feel of it for a moment, her eyes closed.  When she opened them again Ragnar was looking upon her with a smile and the fire reflecting in his eyes. Saga smiled and crawled up so they were face to face, "I am glad the Gods brought you back to me." Ragnar pulled her in for a kiss, loving the feel of her naked body against his, "I knew they would." With another content sigh she laid her head on his chest and rested her hand over the ink there. "You know what else I was thinking about?" "Hmm?" His hand settled low on her waist and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's silly." "Tell me." "Do you remember? The last night we were together? Before you left for Irland." "I do. You let me sit with you by the fire, hold you, kiss you." His hand began to stroke her side and then out of nowhere he chuckled, "I was cracking open walnuts for you. I was worried you were going to cut a finger off trying to break them open with a  knife." He laughed again, and it rumbled in his chest. Saga laughed with him, "You want to know something funny?" "Hmm?" "Do you remember Jonas? The boy that lived down the creek from my family?" "Vaguely. The odd, skinny one?" "Yes," She laughed, almost a giggle. "Those walnuts were a gift from him." She felt Ragnar twist his head to look at her. Then he burst out laughing, loudly. "What?" "That little shit." He laughed again, pulling her closer, "He spent that whole night glaring at me and now I finally know why." While Ragnar was still laughing Saga added, "We sat by the creek for awhile and ate some together. He had to crack them open with a rock." Ragnar laughed even harder, "No wonder it looked like he would've like to kill me." He moved, rolling so she was beneath him, while he continued to chuckle. "I thought of that night often," Ragnar paused to reach for Saga's face, tracing a finger over her full bottom lip, "The look on your face when I told you to open your mouth so I could feed you." His eyes darkened and he groaned as if in appreciation. "You looked so sweet and shy." Saga rolled her eyes, reaching one arm up to wrap around his neck and with the other she stroked her own thumb over his bottom lip. He watched her intently, still a soft smile on his face, even as his eyes darkened, "Now look at you." Ragnar slid his rough, worn hand over her throat and breast, down her flat stomach and between her legs. For a long, silent moment they stared at each other, the only sounds the crack of the fire and the occasional breathy hum from one or the other of them as Ragnar played with the wetness of her cunt. The mess they'd already made together remained and made her entrance even slicker than before. Ragnar could not help the throaty growl of satisfaction as he entered again. Hearing her moan as his thick cock slid home and feeling her tugging him down to her by his beard. "You are so much more than I even could dream," He murmured against her lips, growling again as his praise sent her arching up against him, "When the winds were cold and the ground was hard," He began a steady pace, each stroke making sure to reach as deep within her as he could. "I would take my cock in my hand and think of you." Ragnar thrust harder and Saga moaned, hands scrabbling at his back. "I would think of you, soft and warm beneath me," He paused to catch her eye and grinned, "Smirking up at me just like that." When Ragnar nipped at her bottom lip, and they smiled against eachothers kiss. "Now you have me." She whispered between breathy gasps. "I'm yours Ragnar, you have me." At her words Ragnar could not help but groan and crash his lips down on hers, dropping the whole of his weight onto her as he fucked into the mattress, "And I will not let you go," His voice was becoming strained with the effort, both of them panting as she wrapped her legs around him and he clawed at her thigh, "Never again Saga, I'll never let you go again." ~~~

[alexagirlie]

September Song Challenge

Day 14: a song that someone showed you

Take Me Back to Eden Fandom: The Last Kingdom Rating: M Ragnar the Younger/Sihtric warnings/tags: weird dreams. pining. sex.

Sihtric was dreaming, or at least he was fairly sure he was dreaming. He felt weightless and he was swimming through the ocean chasing the ship where Uhtred was being kept as a slave. The gods were tormenting him, feeding him glimpses of the ship, sometimes close enough to catch sight of his lord's face before he would blink and suddenly be leagues away. Only to repeat again and again, close, far, close again.

This dream world looked strange, like a distorted mirror of the waking world, where everything appeared in shades of gray with flashes of bright unnatural colours. The glimpses he had caught of his lord turned his skin black with his beard and hair stark white and his eyes were bottomless pits. The sea spray upon his face was a blue so bright it was hard to look at. 

Sihtric woke suddenly, startled by a sound outside the tent and he could taste the copper of blood in his mouth. He had taken a hit to the face while training the day before and his split lip had reopened in his sleep.

The air outside his furs was frigid but Sihtric was drenched in sweat and the large muscled body behind him was burning hot, a strong arm wrapped around his waist a burning band of heat.

It had been two days since he had joined Hild and Ragnar in their quest to recouver Uhtred from slavery. They had rode into Eoforwic, had threatened the information out of the bastard king Guthred and had set out again to confront the slaver Uhtred had been sold to. Sihtric had begged to join them and Hild had taken pity on him and agreed he would be allowed to tag along. 

She had expressed some hesitation about his dedication to a lord he had only served for a few weeks "How far are you willing to go to find him Sihtric?"

He had been quick to reassure her of his devotion. "I will travel far beyond the path of reason to find him, Lady."

He was so desperate and so thankful to them both that when Ragnar had subtly requested Sihtric's presence in his tent the young man had obeyed without question. It made his stomach churn with guilt to think about betraying his lord in such a way but a pound of flesh was a small price to pay to be allowed to travel with them. To stay in the Vikingr's good graces and to have his protection.

At least the big man had proven to be a considerate lover. He took time to prepare Sihtric's body to receive his cock and had been surprisingly gentle as he moved Sihtric where he wanted him and pushed in. He had a huge cock to match his large body and it had still hurt but he kept up a steady rhythm right against Sihtric sweet spot and soon Sihtric was just as hard and leaking all over his chest and stomach.

Ragnar was mostly silent, outside of deep grunts and groans but Sihtric had to fight to stay quiet. It had been the same the one time Uhtred had fucked him before he had been sold. Whines and moans poured from his mouth, heedless of who might overhear and he had to hold back an outright scream as he found his release and splattered his chest with cum. 

He whined through his teeth as Ragnar kept pounding into him, the over stimulation almost two much before the big man found his own release and hid his own groan in the crook of Sihtric neck.

Sihtric was still sore as he laid there the following morning and as that arm tightened around his waist and pulled him harder back against the big man's chest. Ragnar's hard cock slid hot and wet up the cleft of Sihtric's ass and he pushed the remaining flashes of his dream from his mind. 

He couldn't think of Uhtred while he was being fucked by his brother, or he was likely to start biting.

[spacedoutman]

Concept for a younger Velvet Von Ragnar for the fanfiction because my brain is bleeding due to how much inspiration I have for this is has been so fucking long

[theherooftime76]

A little artwork for my fanfiction

Ascan can't help it and always has to annoy Ragnar - well, that's how it is with younger brothers. He likes to test how far he can go. Link looks like it's like the motto: go ahead and beat each other's heads in, then I'll have less to do. And Damian is somehow clueless.

[leslie-red]

Fuck you Hirst !!!!! FUCK YOU !!!!!!! You destroyed me as Athelnar fan .

Yeah right Ragnar apppear to a woman he never knew . ( and this is a flash back from season one or two i don't blame Travis at all . He has nothing to do with this bullshit ) and Bjorn didn't look younger like lagertha and Ragnar this is just stupid . And we get it hirst Ragnar-Lagertha and Bjorn the family origin from the pilot ( no Gyda is not in Valallah i know that ) We get it Ragnar and Athelstan doesn't see each others anymore . I wanted to keep going my Athelnar fanfiction " the Potion " and than the sequel " Misty Mountain " but depression about my shitty life get deeper and the way Hirst "Killed " the bond between Ragnar and Athelstan in the last two seasons really did not help me. I'm sorry for all these rant but hey ! in the end Ivar get killed and Hivtserk become Christian and has a new name : Athelstan . So even Ivar and Hivserk was destined to never see each others after death . This show is not for depressing people like me in fact than the relation ship between Ragnar and Athelstan was amazing . The show should stop after Ragnar's death . Well Ecbert's death . And the fact Otter 's real name was Athelstan....WHAT THE POINT ?????

[fineandwittie]

For once, not an AlfredxUhtred fic. Gen what if.

[whenimaunicorn]

Lessons - Part IV

Want more Brida & Ragnar?

Or do you just want both Brida and Ragnar? 😉

I've got a fic for you...

Catch up: Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

If you were ever wondering what it would be like to live with Brida and Ragnar the Younger, come check out the trials of Cynwise, a Saxon woman taken captive in one of Ragnar’s raids somewhere between seasons 2 and 3 of The Last Kingdom.

The new chapter is so long I’m not posting the full text on Tumblr this time, link to its home on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172980/chapters/41333255

“Cyn,” Ragnar rumbled, “you are still awake.”

“Yes, Lord,” she said demurely, just as Brida answered too: “Cyn is always watching out for me.” Her eyes looked playful as she rolled her head towards her. “What do you think, should we let him stay?”

Cyn had no idea how to answer, feeling flushed as she looked at the two amused pairs of eyes staring over at her as she lay just an arm’s length away from them. “Surely – surely that is your decision to make, Lady,” she stammered. Brida’s face shifted and Cyn tried to think of a stronger answer, more to her liking. “For what it’s worth – if now you want your slave’s opinion –” she couldn’t resist adding that dig, “I believe his devotion is true.” She wrapped her thickest fur around herself as she rose to leave. “But just as well, you might enjoy making him work to prove it.” She marveled at her own boldness, it was not like her to make such a bawdy jest.

But Brida’s delighted laugh was like a balm to Cyn’s heart.

Cyn fixed Ragnar with her sternest look before she left the tent. “Be gentle with her. I’ve only just stitched that wound afresh.”

Ragnar’s eyes were amused and grateful all at once. “I'll make certain she stays on her back tonight.”

[therealcalicali]

For the drabble challenge: #8 with Ragnar the Younger

Awesome choice!❤😍❤

---------------

You paced the floor of your sitting room, utterly tired of the conversation. It was vexing and going nowhere fast. Fed up with being on your feet, you finally sat down much to your beau's obvious delight.

"You cannot keep doing this!" You snapped. "I work very hard and deserve to enjoy myself. If I wish to go to the tavern with my friends, you have no right stop me!"

You glared at Ragnar the Younger who was still obstructing the front door. He and his men had arrived back in town only a few hours ago. But already, he was spoiling for a fight.

As you sat, his eyes went to your briefly before sighing with some frustration. He knew very well how much you hated his jealousy and inability to give you space. However, he could not help it.

After all, Ragnar had never been in a relationship that he wanted to keep long term.

It was difficult enough to leave you weeks and months at a time. Especially since his mind played games with him during these long separations. But, it didn't help that Uhtred and the others liked to taunt him about you finding another lover.

For that reason, his jealousy always surfaced every time the two of you reunited.

"Y/N, please. I know it seems that I am being unreasonable......" Ragnar began.

"Being unreasonable?" You repeated with a scoff. "Try being an arse! That better describes your ridiculous behavior!"

"Look, I know that you are angry but hear me out. You are not being reasonable right now."

Your eyes went wide at his words. Was he insane? After being gone for six months, he walked into your home only a few hours prior. After eating supper together, he had flipped out when you stated that you were keeping your plans to see your mates.

"You're right, Ragnar! I am angry!" You began. "I am angry that you think you can strut into my home and tell me how to run my life."

"That is not what I wish to do. I just want you to put me ahead of your friends. I am home now, but you behave as if it does not stir your heart."

"Oh, I'm sorry your Majesty! What do you wish for me to do, hmm?" You asked as you got to your feet. "Blow a horn and bang drums up and down the road?"

Ragnar rolled his eyes as he walked to you. Taking your hands, despite your initial resistance, he smirked.

"Calm yourself. That is not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean? I welcomed you indoors, drew you a hot bath and prepared your favorite meal." You said as you stared up at him defiantly. "As I said before, I have plans! And I will be damned if I am changing them just because you have bad timing."

Despite the fact that you were frowning, Ragnar appeared unphased. Instead of arguing with you any further, he embraced you by the waist, before kissing the top of your head.

"Let go of me!" You demanded. "I am going to be late."

"Is that so?" Ragnar replied with a chuckle. Taking hold of your chin gently, he tilted your head uoward. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"You're serioulsy like a man child." You said as he bent down and gave you a tender peck. "And stop kissing me." You demanded with his lips still grazing yours.

"Never. Besides, there is allot more where that came from." He said before reaching in the pocket of his tunic.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size upon seeing Ragnar reveal a ruby and gold ring. Glancing up at him, you raised a brow in confusion.

"That is for you, my feisty one." He said with a huge smile. "Do you think you could see yourself as the wife of a childish man?

Despite the shock, you nodded as you stared at him. Amused by your now calm demeanor, Ragnar slid the ring onto your finger. He then swept you off your feet in a joyous embrace.

"Y/N, my love, say something."

"I........I.......cannot believe it." You finally managed to say, still in a great deal of shock.

Ragnar set you on your feet again and went to lock the front door. As he did so, you sat down and began unlacing your boots. It was all too surreal. You had not only managed to land a great warrior, but Ragnar the Younger of all people.

Certainly you had though it would have been a short lived romance, as per his history. But somehow, someway, the Gods had saw fit to wrap him around your finger.

Needless to say, you were not going to the tavern that evening.

[bloodoftigers]

Side Blogs

Here is a list of my fanfic side blogs and their respective fandoms, all of them feature big canon changes most often with divergence. Some others that I am thinking of in the near future are:

- The Last Kingdom OC (Kindra) who meets Ragnar the Younger in Scotland after the Siege of Eoferwic 

- The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (Dragonborn) adopts all the orphans and provides a home for all of them at Lakeview Manor as I am forever pissed you can ONLY ADOPT TWO CHILDREN WHEN THERE ARE SO MANY AND SOME LIVE ON THE STREETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Game of Thrones / ASOIAF @seventhwinterwolf - Rosalind Stark OC FF.net | AO3 | 44k+ words, canon divergent

Haikyū!! @victoryfeathers - Stronger Karasuno Team FF.net | AO3 | Seattle (WA) Tournament

Pokémon * @crowncitytrainer - Leia Astra OC FF.net | AO3 | Sinnoh mixed canon

Avatar the Last Airbender / LoK * @legend-of-taiyang - Sun Warrior OC FF.net | Fire Avatar after Korra

*massive overhauls, currently on hiatus

[thespiritoflife]

Waterfall of our love

Pairing: Ragnar The Younger x Fem!reader

Warnings: grammatical errors

A/N's note: Please lower your expectations. (i think it is horrible story but i am still posting it🤦‍♀️) Thank youuu.

not my gif!

Waterfall.  Y / N always went to take a bath here.  Wash away the dust of pain.  Forget everything.  Just enjoy the beauty of the surrounding nature.

And forget about him.

Ragnar Ragnarsson.  Ragnar The Younger.  She loved him so much it hurt.  But he threw her away.  He threw her heart out and trampled on it himself.

"Why, Ragnar? Why can't we be together?"  she asked him.

Ragnar tried to avoid the look in her beautiful eyes.  "Trust me. I'm trying to protect you !!"

"Before whom ??!"

"Before me!"  Ragnar screamed desperately.

Before me.  Before him ... the blonde viking would rather throw her away than be with her.  He didn't give a chance to their love.

They met here at this place. 

Y / N was about to take a bath when something disturbed her from behind the bushes.

She touched her sword quickly.  "Who are you?!"

A blonde Dane came out of the bushes.  His stomach was bleeding.  He dropped to his knees.  "Odin. Take me. Take me. Kill me, I don't want to go through this terrible pain."

Y / N looked at him unbelievably.  She didn't know why, but she had to save this man.  Even though he was her enemy.  Something was pulling her toward him.

"Wait. Wait. I'll save you," she told him, walking over to him.  She tore the fabric from her skirt and pressed it against his stomach.  The man looked at her.

"Stay with me."

"Why are you helping me?"  he looked at her.

"Because I have to," she simply replied.  The man looked at her again incomprehensibly and then fell unconscious.

"Thank you for saving me, Y / N," he said, his eyes must have been in the deeps of her soul.

"It was nothing," she said.

"You could have killed me, but you did the exact opposite. It was definitely something," he muttered.

"Ragnar. Where are you going?"  she asked him as he stroked her hair.

He buried his head on her tender shoulders.  "Away. I can't stay here. But I'll see you later, beautiful savior."

♧◇♧

"She's your weakness, Ragnar. I've been thinking about it for a long time, but I've finally figured it out. She's Saxon and you're a Viking !! You can't be with her!"  someone was shouting.

"I love her."  Ragnar simply replied.

"It will be your downfall."

♧◇♧

It will be your downfall.  Y / N lay unconscious.  Blood flowed from her head.  A Viking man above her.  "What if we shared her?"

"Never. Get your dirty hands away from her or I'll kill you !!"  Ragnar was like a lion in a cage.

Then something happened.  Uhtred.  Rescue.  Y / N.

"Y / N ... please forgive me .. I love you .." he held her in his arms.  She didn't move.

"I love you,"  she said.  And then Ragnar made a final decision.  They can't be together.  He just hurt her more.

"Forgive yourself,"  she whispered to him.  But he never forgave himself.  He simply left her there.  At that waterfall.  Crying with a broken heart.  And his heart was bleeding even more.

2 years later

Waterfall effervescence.  The sun shone.  Y / N took off her clothes and slipped into the water.  She loved this feeling.

She enjoyed the feeling of that bliss.  When she suddenly felt the feeling.  The one she only felt at Ragnar.

She turned immediately.  He has been there.  He looked older.  He tried not to look at her naked body.

"Forgive me,"  he asked her.

"You hurt me. Very,"  she said.

He approached her carefully.  Y / N backed away until she came to a place where she couldn't back down.  She just stared as Ragnar approached her.

"I kept thinking of you, beautiful savior. Please forgive me. I acted like a fool. I can't live without you."

"You're going to throw me out again ..." but she missed him too.  Very.  You can't live without love.  She hoped he would return.  She didn't care that she should send him away and that she acted like a naive fool, but she wanted him.  She needed him.

"I won't throw you away. I swear. I love you," and he kissed her passionately.

Y / N gave up.  She focused only on the kiss.  The waterfall flowed down on them, Ragnar was soaked in the thread, but they still kissed.  As if it should never end.  As if it was just beginning

[kilojulietsierra]

Do You Take This Man? (Ragnar the Younger x OFC - One Shot)

Started watching The Last Kingdom last week and already on season three lol Ragnar was definitly the first Dane that caught my eye

Warnings: 18+ content, they’re Danes so crude talk, marriage negotiations, mentions of violence, first time sex, outdoors sex, slightly au, pregnancy, brief mention of pregnant sex

~~~~

"Ragnar the Younger,  It would be a better match than even our father could have wished." Tovah said as he sat by the fire, staring through the flames at his sister.

"It is. I am not arguing that." She snapped back at him, "I'm not arguing the man."

"You're arguing the marriage itself then." He wiped the grease from his hands and pulled another bite of meat from the bone, "Sister I love you, I do. But, i want a woman and Gods knows I cannot suffer another one until you are gone." He laughed as he dodged a stick flying at his head. "Let me hear your argument then."

"I have no argument." She took a bite of her own food. "I only wish to make the decision myself when the time comes."

"You know the choice is yours Teeva. I only ask that... "Her brother sighed deeply, "Do not deny him just for the sake of being a pain in the ass."

~~~

Ragnar Ragnarson, son of Ragnar the Fearless, Sat across from them in the hall that their father had built. Tovah and Teeva sat on either side of the fire, Ragnar between them. A tactic. Teeva wanted to see who he would address more, her or her brother.

He was tall, strong, fearsome and handsome, all things she was pleased to see. But also annoyed, these things would all make it the harder to refuse him if his offer was anything close to respectful.

"So tell me Ragnarson, what would you have my sister for?" The pleasantries, the little that Danes bothered with, aside Tovah got to the heart of the matter. They all knew why Ragnar was here.

Ragnar held her brothers gaze, "I would have her for a wife."  He looked to her, calm and steady, "If you speak of price  I have brought silver, though I'm sure it is not enough."

"Why do you say that?" Teeva cocked her head to the side.

He spoke to her brother when he said, "I imagine there is not enough silver in all the North, Wessex or Denmark," He then spoke to her, "That could convince Teeva Tovarsdottir to become chained to a man that sought to put her in her place, to claim her and tame her."

"Then why are you here." Her voice was cold as was her gaze but her heart pounded in her chest at the way he held her gaze and quirked the corner of his mouth in a smile.

"Because I am a man who would not do these things." He leaned forward, turned his gaze on her brother. "I was there when our fathers raided Heimsdeep together." Both the siblings flinched, and Ragnar spared them a pause out of respect. "And I was there with you when his man betrayed him there."

Tovah interrupted him, "Our families have always been good and loyal allies."

"And that will not change," His eyes flicked to her and then back, "No matter how this ends."

Tovah nodded deeply, raised his cup of ale in agreement.

Ragnar continued, "I was also there at Moran's, you know this, when the son and daughter of Tovar took their revenge." This time when his eyes landed on Teeva they did not leave, did not waver. Icy green boring into hers, dark and lush like the forest. "I saw you fight with sword and shield and bare hands along side your brother, and along side your father's men. A true shield maiden."

Her cheeks warmed and she hoped it was hidden by the hues of the fire. She had no words so she only nodded her thanks at the compliment.

" Any man that would try to take that fire from her would be doing all Dane's a dishonor. She's afraid I am that kind of man but I am not."

"Then what kind of man are you Ragnar Ragnarson?" Tovah braced his elbows on his knees and leaned towards the other Dane. "What would you give her if you are not these men that would see her... tamed?"

Ragnar smiled and looked away from Tovah, answering his question but clearly speaking to Teeva. "I am a man that would see her with braids in her hair and ink on her skin. I would give her a reputation, lands, a hall, people who would follow her and respect her as they would me. I would give her a good, strong name from a long line of warriors, all of whom would smile down on a woman like this." He was smiling now, tight lipped but a smile nonetheless, creasing his forehead and the corner of his eyes.

Teeva had almost forgotten her brother was in the room, nearly jumped when he asked another question. "And what would you have her give you in return?"

Now he smiled, truly smiled, and it made her nervous. She was certain this is where her silly, fragile fantasy would end.

"I would ask only of her to give me strong sons and clever daughters, a safe hall, respect for my people, and a warm bed at night." He winked with the last, his smile wide and his eyes dancing like the fire before them. "And an extra sword at my side should I need it."

They held each others gaze for a long, silent moment, sizing eachohter up. Teevas heart was pounding in her ears.

Almost as if he had forgotten him too, Ragnar turned back to Tovah. "I know how you care for your sister, and she for you. I wish not to stamp down that fire within her, I would rather stoke it. See her become the woman the gods mean for her to be."

The men shared a long, discerning look of their own before Tovah looked to her over the fire, "Well sister, the man has said his piece, and I am for it. In my eyes this would be a match our ancestors and his would both be proud of."

Teeva studied Ragnar, now slouched back comfortably in his seat, relaxed under her gaze. Dare she say enjoying it.

When she spoke she made sure her voice was clear and strong, "Give me the night to consider."  

~~~

The small camp against the hillside was quiet, the fires doused and the men asleep in their furs. Canvas strung from tree branches made for a few simple shelters. On bare feet Teeva crept through the trees, her feet cold but light on the soft ground. She had paid attention, knew which canvas she needed.

He lay on his back, on a single, thick fur, with his arms crossed above his head and his feet propped up on his saddle. He did not snore, did not move or even twitch. His chest rose and fell  and was bare, the night air comfortable enough to sleep that way, but a second fur was draped over his lower half.

Standing a few feet away she watched for a long moment, steadying her breath, until she was sure her approach had not awoken him. Then on soft, slow feet, with a dagger in her hand she approached. She paused, within arms reach of him. Satisfied she was still undetected, she moved. Reached for his throat with the blade and to cover his mouth with her hand.

In an instant , the mere beat of a heart, she watched in panic as his eyes snapped open, his lips turned in a smile and she was on her back in the blink of those green eyes, head spinning and the wind knocked out of her.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He whispered, crouching above her, keeping her pinned to the ground.

"Shouldn't you?" She whispered back through gritted teeth.

Ragnar continued to smile as he plucked the knife from her fingers and stuck in the ground next to them. "There are only two reasons for you to be here, I cannot wait to hear which it is?"

Her lungs finally full of air again she breathed deep, noticing the way his eyes jumped from her face to her chest with the motion. When his eyes came back to hers she was smiling back at him, a small, cheeky grin. "I have not made my decision yet."

He sat back on his haunches, keeping only one hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Decision? On if you will kill me rather than be my woman?"

"I did not come to kill you Ragnar Ragnarson."

Ragnar could not help but notice how relaxed she seemed in her position, he considered whether it was because she truly feared nothing... or only that she did not fear him. His eyes flicked to the knife again, "The knife leads me to believe otherwise, Leeva Tovarsdottir."

Her smile grew and Ragnar felt something spark within him, deep within him.

"It serves only to make a point."

"And what point was that."

"That I am in control."

He laughed, his grip on her shoulder tightening, as he fought to keep himself quiet. Again, he noticed she did not flinch away from him or his hand. "Says the one on her back."

"Is that not how you would prefer me?" Her eyes were dangerous. Daring, goading him into making a misstep and failing this little challenge of hers.

Ragnar chewed the inside of his cheek, tasting his next words before he spoke them. He let her go, plucked the blade from the earth and wiped it over his breeches. Flipping it gracefully over his fingers before offering it back to her, handle first. "I would have you many ways, all of which I would love to show you, but only if you speak plainly. Why are you here?"

Her face changed. Right before his eyes, so subtle he might have missed it in the darkness if not for their closeness. The warrior in her was gone, even for just a moment, and the girl was there. The pretty young girl, on the eve of a marriage. A nervous, beautiful, young girl.

Teeva fortified herself as much as she could, ignoring the heat in her cheeks and the tightness in her chest. "Is it so outside of reason for a girl to know?"

Ragnars face scrunched, brow furrowed in confusion, "Know what?" He still held the blade in one hand, braced against his bent knee.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Noticing with a thrill that this time Ragnars eyes held firmly to her own and did not go wandering. So, there on the ground in his little makeshift tent, surrounded by the furs still warm from his body heat, she told him the truth. "I want to know that I will enjoy it." His face did not change, his brow remained furrowed as he shook his head, still not understanding. "That I will enjoy... being married."

Still, his face remained unchanged, if anything his eyes narrowed more.

"You know... being... with the man I marry." If the earth would open up and swallow her she would have thanked the Gods.

Then, slowly, his face softened, the creases disappeared from his forehead, his eyes widened, and his smirk returned. Holding her eyes captive with his he reached for her right hand and with his own, lifted it to take the handle of the knife he still offered her. He guided her to wrap her fingers around the leather grip and took in the way her breathing had become shallow and rapid. WIthout words he moved, taking her hand that held the knife and guiding it. Until her right arm was stretched to its full length out to the side.

Ragnar, hand still wrapped tightly around hers still holding the knife, leaned in closer. He placed the tip of the blade against the earth and pushed. Slowly, steadily, together they drove the blade into the dirt. His forehead nearly touching hers he finally spoke, "Beautiful girl," His voice was low and rough, his eyes took in her face. He had never been this close to her before and even in the dark of night she was breathtaking. "If you do not enjoy it, you can take that blade and cut my throat."

Teeva gasped, her whole body trembling as Ragnar laid his body over hers and claimed her lips. Their hands fell from the handle of the dagger and found each other instead. Fingers weaving together as Ragnar nipped at her tongue and swallowed down her moans. He moved, steadily, kissing across her face to her ear, taking the lobe of it between his teeth before licking and sucking his way down her neck. "Tell me, is this what you wanted?"

"Yes." She sighed it out, tipping her head back into the furs, fighting for room to breathe. This had been her plan. Truthfully. She had snuck from the hall to lay with Ragnar, but things were not going to plan at all. She was not in control. She had meant to stay in control. Ragnar taking control of her mouth again brought her back to reality.

Her free hand, moving on some sort of baser reflex, moved to dig into his bare, muscled back. It seemed that one small movement spurred him on.

"Tell me beautiful," His voice was raspy, he was sucking in breath like a man emerging from the sea. His eyes drove into hers, "Do you want me to take you? Do you want me to show you what it will be like? To be my woman, to lay with me." His smile came back, his eyes darkened, "Did you come out here tonight to hump me?" Ragnar was near chuckling as he said it. but his one hand still held hers tight and his other was wrapped around her thigh.

She had to fight for the breath and for her voice but she answered him, clearly and truthfully, "Yes."

His smile doubled and for the second time he moved too quickly for her to stop him. Only this time she found Ragnar on his back, smiling up at her where he had her straddling his hips. "Go on then." His hands slid up her thighs to her waist but did not move further.

Again she found herself incredibly bashful, "I have clothes on." She narrowed her eyes at him, motioning to herself, "I'm fully dressed!"

"Does not matter." He chuckled. Carefully he began to move her hips with his hands, pulling her forward, "Ride me."

Her gasp, the expression on her face,  as she finally felt the hardness of him beneath her was better in and of itself than half the fucks he'd had as a young man. Her eyes snapped open wide and her hands dropped to his torso to steady herself. He did not wait, continued to move her back and forth over him, Grinding her against his hard cock, watching in awe at the faces she made. Her fingers dug into his torso and he had to grit his teeth to control himself. "Keep going." A groan escaped him as she pressed down against him harder, "Just like that."

Soon she was speeding up, his grip on her no longer controlling her movements. To be honest, Teeva herself, was not even in control of her movements. Her hips moved on their own, chasing whatever that wonderful, tingling sensation was deep between her legs. She was leaned down low over him, her hips rocking back and forth erratically over the press of his cock, the friction of their clothing between them helping her along, "Oh shit, oh... oh gods... what..."

Ragnar snarled through bared teeth, "Yes, you feel it, chase it." He surged up to kiss her, sinking a hand deep into her loose hair and taking a firm grip, moving her how he wanted her. Their mouths clashing together, all teeth and tongues as she moaned and whimpered through her release. Her short nails dug into his sides, hard enough he thought she may truly have drawn blood and a deep, uncontrollable shiver ran the length of his spine. "Gods you are a gift Teeva." He muttered the words against her lips. "So," He kissed her again, "Tell me pretty girl," He kept his hand in her hair, holding her tight, his other hand loose on her hip. "Do you want my cock? " He rolled his hips beneath her and revelled in the way she responded in kind, "Let me show you, hmm," He tugged on her hair, hard enough to tip her head back so that he could mouth greedily at the side of her neck, "Let me show you what I have for you." He rolled his hips again. "Let me show you how I will fuck my wife."

~~~

She was still naked and trembling slightly under the fur, though she was not cold and no longer nervous.

Ragnar lay next to her, propped up on one elbow while his free hand, his sword hand, traced unreadable patterns over her bare back. "So, Teeva, daughter of Tovar," He whisper against the back of her neck as he leaned into her, his hand splayed wide over the small of her back. "What have you decided? Hmm?" He kissed her there and then kissed his way to the shell of her ear, "Have I humped you well enough?" He sucked her earlobe between his lips and smiled when she shivered, "Have I swayed you? Would you marry me? Hmm. Can I have you in my bed every night, pretty girl? Make you my own and let you ride my cock whenever you please?" He chuckled as she groaned a little beneath him, half halfheartedly rolling away from him.

"Stop teasing."

He could not help the wide smile then, tugging her to him and rolling her onto her back. "Never." Ragnar reached a hand up to her face and held her, moving his thumb up to smooth the worry from her brow. "You should know, if you deny me now I'll have no choice but to kidnap you."

Teeva snorted out a laugh but leaned into the touch, "Oh really?"

"I swear it." He kissed the corner of her eye, "You are fierce and strong, beautiful beyond my words," He waited for her to relax and then continued, "And even now, spent as I am, you have my cock harder than forged steel."

She shoved him then, glaring but inside celebrating that such a feared and respected man let her handle him this way. Her eyes fell to the knife she had brought still stuck in the dirt at the edge of his furs, where he had left it, well within her reach if she had needed it. "Are all men this insatiable?"

He did not hesitate to respond, "Only when our women are this irresistible." He winked at her and in return she rolled her eyes. "Tell me now woman, will I ride out of here with you as my wife, or as my captive?"

"You will have to wait and see tomorrow won't you Ragnar Ragnarson?" She kissed him and then crawled out from under the furs to dress as quickly as she could. Hard to do with his hands and lips working against her every step of the way.

~~~

"Earl Ragnar, i hope you slept well." Tovah greeted him and his men as they entered the hall the next morning.

Ragnars eyes did not waver from her brother, but Teeva saw the corner of his lip pull back. "Very well, considering I have been anxiously awaiting an answer." When he did look her way Teeva revelled in the way it made her want to blush and hide as much as it wanted to make her smirk and stand up tall.

After last night she was certain of it. Ragnar was a man that would not treat like a cow to be bred or a slave to keep his hall. He would keep her as his wife, respect her, honor her, fight for her, father her strong sons and clever daughters. He would put her to bed every night satisfied and love her every day of his life. Here and in Valhalla.

Tavah laughed and stood to take Ragnar by the shoulders, "Then you'll be happy. My sisters first words to me this morning were that she accepts the marriage."

Ragnar embraced the slightly older Dane back and smiled, "The gods have honored me," He looked to her then, catching her eye as he continued, "more than I deserve." Ragnar looked back to her brother, slapping him hard on the back as he stepped away and towards Teeva. With a steady hand  he cupped her face gently and stroked his thumb over her brow just as he had done last night, "And I promise to live every day of my life so that I honor you in return."

The look in his eyes took her breath away as much as his words had. It was a struggle to speak as she wrapped her hand around his sturdy forearm and met his gaze, "I look forward to it."

~~~

Teeva was laughing so hard that she could hardly breathe, watching as her brothers men and Ragnars men... her husbands men, drank and played games in celebration. Watching as half a dozen men went stumbling through the fire pit and falling on their asses. She laughed as her brother and Ragnar, her husband, laughed and cheered and embraced each other in victory.

Ragnar stepped aside and accepted a mug of ale, still laughing as he raised it to his lips, but he caught her eye as he drank. She was staring at him and married or not he saw the faintest blush at her throat at being found out. She did not look away though and that made his blood sing through him. Leaving others to their games he crossed the yard to where she sat by a fire. Her eyes held his the whole way.

"You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself." She greeted him with a jest and a smile.

Without hesitation he took a knee before her where she sat, placing himself between her legs and leaning into her, his arms braced against the chair on either side of her thighs. From this position he was only a few inches away from her but had to tilt his chin up, just slightly, to look at her. "And you, sitting here with your bright smile and flushed cheeks, hmm? Are you enjoying yourself? Watching?"

"Am I not allowed to enjoy watching? My husband?" She sounded braver than she felt as she spoke, her fingers reaching out to toy with the end of Ragnar, her husbands, beard.  

A growl rose low in his throat as he leaned in closer, tugging her to the edge of her seat to meet him,  "Say it again."

She lifted the hand not holding her drink to cup his jaw, "My husband."

"Say it louder." Her pulled her flush against him, until she was barely in the seat.

If he had not been looking at her the way he was, she would never have done it. But, his eyes were burning for her and his grip was tight so she raised her voice, "My husband!"

In one easy movement, as if it was nothing, he stood with her, his arms under her ass and hoisting her up until she was at least two heads above the rest of the crowd. "Louder!"

She did not hesitate. With one hand at the back of his head to hold herself steady, eyes still locked with his, she raised her horn of ale in the air and yelled, "My husband!!"

An echoing roar of cheers and laughter rang through the hall and the yard as their people celebrated with them.

Rather than letting her down, Ragnar turned and sat in the seat she had just been sitting in, letting her settle so that she was straddling his lap. Still smiling ear to ear he kept one hand on her ass and stole her drink with the other. He finished the ale in one long gulp and then slammed the horn down next to him, his eyes never leaving hers. "Kiss me wife."

Which she did, her left hand still rested at the back of his head, under the base of his braid, and she used it to pull them together.  

The kiss was short and sweet and Ragnar was not having it. When she pulled away he trapped her in his arm. She would say he snarled if it hadn't been so full of adoration, "Like you mean it woman."

The comment earned him a bite on the cheek but the second kiss was well worth it. Teeva pressing herself fully against him as she allowed him to ravage her mouth, giving as good as she got.

~~~

When she woke the next morning the fire had burned low, down to glowing embers, and she knew it was only Ragnar behind her that kept her from shivering. Her eyes focused slowly, her head hurt from the ale, but she glanced around the hall. None of the others had stirred yet. So, carefully, she made to move but the strong arm around her flexed and held her tightly.

"Don't move." He whispered in her ear. She froze. "I'm comfortable." He breathed out a nearly silent chuckle as she relaxed against him, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she settled back into him.

"The fire is going to die." She whispered over her shoulder. When he did not respond she opened her mouth to say it louder only to  have his hand cover her mouth.

Now wide awake, eyes blazing as he turned her to face him. She glared daggers at him.

Ragnars eyes were still half lidded when he mouthed the word, "Hush." Then he removed his hand from her mouth, replacing it with his lips for a fleeting moment before closing his eyes and settling back into the furs spread over the hard, wood floor.

Quieted, but still outraged she turned slightly and bit him hard on the shoulder, clamping down on the skin through the fabric on his tunic.

His eyes shot open, his teeth gritted, bared as he let out a silent hiss at the pain. Ragnar dug his hand in her sleep mussed hair and pulled her face blush with his, whispering harshly, one word through still gritted teeth, "Vixen." Then he was shoving his tongue into her mouth and stealing any smart remarks she may have had before she could say them. Once she was thoroughly breathless he whispered to her, lips brushing the apple of her cheek. "My head hurts. Be quiet, lay down, and let me enjoy having you in my arms."

Her anger, fleeting as it was, dissipated and she dropped a feather light kiss to his lips. Letting out a long, content sigh as Ragnar smiled, closed his eyes, and brought her to lay her head on his chest. Soon finding herself dozing off to the solid, steady beat of his heart and the feeling of his rough fingers massaging her scalp where his hand was still buried in her hair.

~~~

It was a long journey to Dunholm. Many miles spent in the saddle and many nights sleeping on furs laid on the ground. It was worth it though when she topped the final ridge, and she saw it for the first time.

Ragnar had pulled his horse to a stop beside hers as she took it in.

It was bigger than she had imagined, an imposing fortress high on a hill, visible from miles away but impenetrable. Ragnar had told her the story of how they had taken it, how he had claimed his revenge on Kjartan. Teeva knew this stronghold was a source of pride for her husband, and now for her too.

With his usual, tight lipped but soft smile, Ragnar stepped his horse sideways. Moving until his leg was pressed against hers, the horses shoulders pushing together. He placed his right hand on the top of her horses rump and leaned into her space. Her hair brushing his temple as he spoke, "Well, what do you think? Does it suit you? What does Teeva, wife of Ragnar Ragnarsson say about her new home?"

Teeva smiled, turned her head just enough to press their foreheads together. "I will hold my judgement until I've seen the state of the inside."

Ragnar laughed loudly and stole a quick kiss. "We hurry on then."

As the gates swung open Ragnar once again came up close beside her, hand on her saddle and lips against her ear, "Welcome home."

~~~

"Have you night tired of me yet lord?" Teeva laughed, fighting to catch her breath.

Ragnar let out a sound, half groan half laugh. "If you want me to tire of you, you should stop making such pretty sounds while my cock is inside you." To prove his point he thrust into her, hard, moving her further up the bed with the motion, drawing one of those beautiful little gasps from her throat. "See, like that." He began to pick up his pace again, nearly snarling in pleasure as she clawed at the back of his thighs. Urging him forward. Her volume increasing with every snap of his hips.

He still lay on top of her, his cock softening and her fingers massaging the muscles in his back,  when they both heard footsteps on the steps outside their rooms. Ragnar growled in annoyance and buried his face in her neck. Choosing to ignore the coming intrusion, instead enjoying the heaving of Teevas chest beneath him and faint aftershocks of her fluttering cunt.

"Ragnar, if you love me, you will kill whoever is about to come to our door." Her fingers moved to the back of his neck and into the loose, disheveled blonde hair he had yet to pull back. As it was far too early to be out of bed.

The Dane chuckled and mouthed at her neck, groaning with the effort of pulling away from her, out of her. He paused, braced above her on solid, swordsman's arms and dropped his forehead to hers, "As my lady wishes."

The knock at the door surprised neither of them, they remained silent. Staring into each others eyes with matching, mischievous smirks. Then from outside, "Earl Ragnar?" was followed by another, louder knock.

Ragnar chuckled, soft puffs of air escaping his nose, and moved to kiss the ink at his wife's temple. A symbol to match his own. Then with more energy and more grace for  a man so large, and no longer so young, jumped from the bed grabbed his sword from it's belt striding across the room and  opened the door.

The younger Dane was surely shocked to see his chief opening the door sword in hand, naked, cock still half hard and nothing but  the scars and ink markings on his chest to cover him.

With a straight and serious face Ragnar spoke, "My wife has instructed me to kill whoever is on the other side of this door. This is your one chance to change my mind. Speak plain and fast." Ragnar heard Teeva behind him laughing quietly but his face remained hard.

"Forgive me sir, but Uhtred Ragnarson is riding to the gate."

With just a nod of his head Ragnar sent the boy away, his face breaking into a smile as he swung the door shut. Approaching his wife and their bed again, leaning is sword against the wall beside it. "This will be a good day."

"And why is that?" Teeva sat up in bed, pulling the furs around her against the winter cold, welcoming Ragnar into them as he came back to the bed.

Pushing her down to her back he kissed her, then kissed her throat, and her breast. "Because," he looked up from where he was pressing kisses over her belly, his large, rough hands cradling the small bump there, "My wife, the love of my soul is growing another strong, fair haired, green eyed, fearsome son in her belly." He crawled the length of her naked body to kiss her. And when he pulled away he was still smiling, "And today is the day my little brother finally comes back to be where he belongs"

~~~ The End ~~~

First time writing for this fandom but I already have a few ideas for other stories! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!

[unlockyourmind-wp]

OF STORM AND SIEGE | FINAN x OC | CHAPTER ONE

Summary:

Eldrid Byrnjarssdottir is born a storm. Her rage is like the wind beating the waves on the rocks. Her love is the thunder burning down entire forests. Her grief is like a hurricane, destroying the land with its raindrops. She isn't made for a soft or quiet life.

In her fight to find her enslaved mother and sister she has gained a merciless reputation amongst the Danes. Soon her fight leads her to the Saxon lands across the sea. There she is sought out by Young Ragnar who is looking for his brother Uhtred of Bebbanburg. Eldrid swears to Ragnar she will help him find his brother, unaware that finding Uhtred and his companion will change her life forever.

When they rescue Uhtred and his friend Irishman Finan the Agile, Eldrid's wild heart is confronted with a whole new path to follow. Finan seems determined to agitate her as much as possible, if only to break her walls and get her to smile. And no matter how much she might wish to bash his head in sometimes, Eldrid can't turn away from him. For maybe them meeting is what destiny had intended to happen all along.

DESTINY IS ALL.

Author’s note: hello everyone, for a while now I’ve been writing and working on my finan fanfiction. This book has also been published on wattpad but since a lot more tlk fans are here on tumblr I decided to published the book here as well! Have fun reading and if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, let me know!

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Word Count: 2340

CHAPTER ONE:

✧. ⋆ with every slaughter comes a cost

THE WAILING WIND AND SHUFFLING footsteps were the only sounds heard in the courtyard of the fortress. The watery morning sun colored the sky a pale blue. A color void of hope and warmth. A cold fog clung to Eldrid's clothes as she sat hidden between the battlements. She tried to ignore it the best she could and focused all of her energy on the rows of slaves stumbling along the ground below her. Her fingers brushed the string of her bow in anticipation. The weapon was placed on her lap, but firmly in her hands, ready to be used. Unease was growing within her bones as she sat there. What was taking them so long?

She sat as still as a statue while the sun continued the climb, clearing the fog with its golden rays. Eldrid was not known for being patient and it took her every bit of strength she had to remain seated and not go looking for her men. After all they'd been through she knew she could trust them and she did, fully.

And her patience was paid of. Her eyes caught sight of a white owl soaring the sky. A small breath of relief left her lips but she could not linger on it for too longer. Her body tensed up as she prepared for the chaos that would soon follow. Her eyes went back down to the courtyard where the slavers were busy with counting the rows of slaves that had gathered there. Her eyes fell on one man who had just entered through the gate, being pulled forward by the chains bound around his wrists and ankles. He was tall and had brown hair that fell over his shoulders. His features were sharp, like that of a hawk. Out of her father's three children, Bjorn looked most like their mother. So much so it had hurt to look at him when she was taken all those winters ago. Whenever Eldrid felt the memory of her slipping away, her eyes would find her brother and she would remember.

There was nothing, however, left to remind her of Yrsa. Her younger sister, as fair as the flowers that grew beneath the sun. Out of Brynjar's children she was the only one with warm eyes and a carefree smile. But nothing so fair was allowed to remain untouched in this world and Eldrid had forgotten what her soft features looked like. All she could remember were her pale hands, holding Eldrid's fingers tightly in a last, desperate attempt to hold on to freedom. She remembered like it happened yesterday. The feeling of her little sister's hands being ripped from her own as she was sold, ripped away from her home and freedom.

Which was the reason she was seated on the cold stones of the last Danish slavers fortress along the south coast at this very moment. From the sea to the Scandinavian lands to the east. She had rid every town, every market, of the men who dared to put others into chains. All while searching for her mother and sister. She knew it brought her father grief to see his daughter dedicate her life to violence and slaughter but his wishes had never held her back. She also knew he had made Bjorn swear to look out for his younger sister. Her brother, too loyal for his own good, would follow her to the ends of the earth and back. And maybe it had started because of a promise but Eldrid knew that was not the reason he had stayed.

For just a moment Bjorn glanced up at the battlements, almost as though he could sense she was thinking of him. Eldrid knew he could not see her, but he would know she was there. She could see his body tensing with the anticipation of the coming fight even from his distance.

One of the slavers stepped forward to search Bjorn for any possible weapons he might have hidden beneath his clothes. Eldrid knew they were expecting a rock, or maybe a stick but definitely not the short sword hidden in his breeches. Just as the slaver reached out his hands the white owl in the sky started making its descent. The animal dived down through the sky toward the slaver seated behind a table to count his victims. The very moment the owl reached the man and buried its talons in the slaver's eyes, the fight broke loose.

Bjorn reached for his short sword and pushed the blade into the slaver's throat. While Eldrid rose up from behind the battlements and fired her arrow into the chest of another slaver. Screams erupted all over the courtyard as the chained men and women searched for cover. Hoves came galloping through the gates. Eldrid's men came charging through the fortress like a storm send by the gods themselves. Every slaver met his demise by sword, axe or arrow.

Eldrid revelled in the chill left by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her fingers ached from pulling back the string of her bow time and time again but she never lost her focus. Her arrows came raining down from the heavens like thunder send by Thor, striking down every enemy who had dared to take away the freedom of men and women alike. When she had fired her last arrow she lowered her bow, her eyes taking in the state of panic and chaos they had created. As always there would be one slaver left alive but it was never because of her. Anyone who would come close to her met his doom. Her sword was hungry and her heart was restless. She could not find the compassion within her soul to care about these men. Turning on her heels, Eldrid headed for the tower on her right hand. She kicked the dead guard aside, his lifeless body falling to the ground. She had used his corpse to block the door to stop anyone from entering the battlements without her knowing. She didn't spare the man a single glance, entered the tower and started descending the stairs to the battlefield below.

The bang of the door being thrown open echoed through the staircase. Hurried footsteps came running up the stairs. Eldrid reached for her sword and pulled it out of its sheath. She came to a halt and waited for the footsteps to reach her. A man came running around the corner, his panicked breaths were annoying to her ears. He was in such a hurry to get away that he did not even notice the Dane standing before him until he had almost bumped into her. His entire body froze, his eyes wide with fear as he looked up at her.

Eldrid raised her sword, pointing the tip at his heart. The man opened his mouth, maybe to pray or maybe to beg. She would never know. Because before even one word had left his lips she had pushed the steel of her weapon through his heart. A startled gasp escaped his mouth. His body jerked unnaturally before becoming still. She pulled her sword back and watched with little interest as his corpse collapsed to the ground.

Another set of footsteps came rushing up the stairs and Eldrid raised her weapon again, only to lower it when she saw it was her brother. Their men must have released him from his chains so he could join in the fight. His eyes went to the corpse of the slaver and for a second his eyes hardened with hatred before he managed to compose himself. When he turned to look at her all the hatred was gone and instead replaced with the calm wisdom she was used from him.

'There is no one left,' she said, pointing with her sword up the stairs.

Bjorn nodded. 'Then let's finish this.' He turned and headed back down.

Eldrid followed him as they made their way out of the tower and out unto the courtyard. Some men were working on freeing the slaves while others were searching the fortress for silver and food. In the middle of the courtyard was the last man of the fortress left alive. He had been forced on his knees and was being watched closely by Kara. The raven-haired woman held the tip of her sword against his neck, her eyes watching him with cold disinterest. But even more chilling was the white owl seated on her right shoulder. Blood colored its talons bright red and its menacing eyes were staring at the slaver as if the animal was questioning his right to breathe. Ice, for that was what the animal was called, had been Kara's loyal companion for such a long time that Eldrid could barely remember seeing her friend without her trusted friend resting on her shoulder.

As soon as Kara saw Eldrid walking towards her, she lowered the sword. The slaver seemed relieved, but it disappeared as soon as Eldrid stepped into his few. Eldrid had been told her eyes looked as wild as a wolf about to jump its prey during a fight. She hardly believed it but whenever men looked at her with fear on their faces, it was hard not to believe it. Raising her sword she pointed the tip right beneath the man his chin, lifting his head so he was forced to look at her.

'Do you know who I am?' She questioned, her voice stone cold.

The man opened his mouth to respond but did not seem able to answer.

A sigh left her lips and she pressed the tip of her sword against his skin, raising her eyebrows as a silent question.

Fear seemed to make it impossible for the man to speak and so she could only catch one mumbled word. Death.

She couldn't help herself and scoffed at the mention of the name she had been given by the people of Denmark. She had heard the whispers of the Lady of Death who travelled the coast with her band of merciless shadow-walkers. It was said she could into a wolf and that looking at her would mean your death. Eldrid had to admit that to be able to shapeshift would have been magnificent. But the idea that she had help from the gods in accomplishing all that she had made her want to scream in anger. The gods had long abandoned her. She had not come here because of sacrifices and mumbled prayers. She stood here because of her own strength.

It took her all her restraint to not push her sword through the slaver's throat right then and there but she needed answers and so she dropped her sword. 'Tell me, have you any knowledge of a woman named Asfrid and her daughter Yrsa?'

The slaver whimpered and shook his head. 'P-please, I see so many faces, hear so m-many names! I can not possibly remember them all.'

Eldrid leaned in closer to the man, her voice like a wolf's snarl when she spoke. 'They will have been sold to you by the Earl Harkon. And trust me, you would remember him.'

She could tell by the way the man started trembling that he did indeed remember. Earl Harkon had been a huge man and known throughout Denmark for his cruelty. Though he now roamed the endless cold depths of Hel in disgrace. She had made sure he would never feast in Valhalla. For what he had done to her family, she wished she could have killed him a thousand times over. But it was done now. He was gone and she was left trying to mend the wound he left behind.

'Who did you sell those women to?' She snarled.

The man made the quick decision that he feared her more than he feared the slaver he sold her family to and finally started speaking. 'I do not remember the name of the man. All I know is that he was setting sail to England!'

Hot fury coursed through her veins at the mere thought of her family in the hands of those weak, god-fearing christians. This man had condemned her mother and little sister to the wild ways of the sea and poisonous whispers of priests. Her rage burned all her rational thoughts away and with one motion she pushed her sword through the man's throat. She could hear her brother sigh behind her but she paid him attention. She watched as the life slowly drained out of the man in front of her before she pulled her sword back, the slaver's body collapsing on the ground. Only then did she turn to look at Bjorn and Kara, who had clearly been sharing glances behind her back.

'We could have gotten more information from him,' Bjorn said, his eyes burning into her soul.

Eldrid straightened her shoulders. 'He refused to talk and so I refused to spare his life.' She walked past her brother and towards one of the torches that was attached to the wall. After quick glance around the courtyard she saw all the slaves had been freed and her man stood waiting for her next command. She threw the torch on a cart loaded with hay. It caught fire immediately, the flames spreading to the surrounding walls. Soon the entire fortress would be a sea of flames. She turned to face her men. 'Burn it all,' she ordered.

While the former slaves made their way to their freedom, the Danes set the entire fortress on fire. They walked out with the silver, food and their lives. For not a single man had lost his life in the battle. Eldrid took the lead as they walked outside, her heart burning with anger.

'So, to England it is then?' Bjorn questioned, coming to walk beside her as they headed back to their camp in the woods.

'To England it is,' Eldrid confirmed.

The Lady of Death was coming for every Saxon who had dared to touch her family.

[shannygoatgruff]

The World Over

Genre:  Vikings/GOT Crossover Fan Fiction

Rating: MA – violence, language, strong sexual content

Summary: Ivar the Boneless and Daenerys Targaryen find themselves unlikely allies. But each has something that the other needs to get them what they want. He has the tactical skill to take her all the way to Kings Landing. She has the dragon army that will give him all of England, possibly Norway. Will they be each other's savior or demise?

A/N:  I have been writing fanfiction for years, but I lost my muse. I finally found it again in Alex Høgh Andersen.  I am obsessed with him and his character, Ivar. 

In my perfect world, Ivar would be on Game of Thrones.  This is my attempt to fix the horrible ending to one of my favorite shows and these two worlds together.

My timelines for both shows are NOT accurate.  They are not meant to be – I have to do a lot of finessing to make everything turn out the way I want it to.

With that, I hope you enjoy.

Ivar The Terrible

The voyage from Kattegat to England took roughly three weeks by ship. Twenty-one days seemed like a brief time passing for the Great Army, led by Björn Ironside and his brothers, to travel from their home to kill King Aelle of Northumbria. 

Early spring had brought minimally choppy waters. The weather was warm enough during the day to require the Viking horde to only require wool and leathers, and at night, light furs.

The gods had blessed them with only two small storms during their entire voyage to the land of the Christians. Neither storm had been so severe that any member of their party took ill, or any of their supplies were damaged. Odin had shown the Vikings great favor as they set out to avenge their fallen King.

King Ragnar Lothbrok was the most famous Viking in all of Scandinavia. He had returned to England the year before the Great Army set sail, with his youngest son, Ivar. Ragnar had returned to question his friend, King Ecbert, on why he had slaughtered the entire Viking settlement that had been allowed to remain and farm in Wessex.  

It had always been Ragnar’s dream to farm on lush and fertile grounds, and the soil in England provided just that.  The weather there was moist and the winds carried the smell of freshly turned soil. Viking farmers were destined to turn a good crop there.  

Farming in Norway had grown harsher. The soil was sandy and the weather was cold. Not much vegetation grew there – not enough to sustain their ever-growing population. The gods had blessed the Northmen with the ability to grow crops to feed their livestock, and the meat from those animals fed their villages. But Ragnar wondered how long would that last? The soil in Kattegat had been turned too many times. The gods gave him visions of moving his people to somewhere more fruitful, where they could farm and continue their way of life.

But, the god Loki had too much in store for the once-simple farmer.  He had grown Ragnar’s ambitions too strong.  Sent him on too many raids.  Forced him into making too many enemies and shedding too much bloodshed.  Before Ragnar realized it in his quest for power and gain, he lost his daughter and unborn son; his wife and son, Björn, had left him and he had four additional sons with a woman he did not love.

Broken, defeated, and estranged, Ragnar removed himself from everything and everyone.  And upon his return, the only one of his sons to accept him wholeheartedly was the one son he had cast away.  

Ivar the Boneless. 

It had taken nearly 16 winters for Ragnar to forge a relationship with his youngest son, the boy that he had tried to leave in the woods to be killed by the elements or taken by wildlife. But on the trip to Wessex, Ragnar and Ivar finally bonded. It was during that trip, that Ragnar Lothbrok was killed by the Christians, but not before he told Ivar to avenge him.

That is exactly what the youngest of the sons of Ragnar had done.

Ivar and his brothers had put together the greatest Viking army the world had ever seen to travel across the great sea to personally deliver all of those who had a hand in killing their father to the goddess Hel. 

But, it seemed that Loki had just as much in store for the younger Lothbroks as the elder.

Now, all but two of the brothers' Lothbrok found themselves on separate ships heading back to their home in Kattegat. Already at sea for more than three weeks, they seemed no closer to home then they had when he set sail 30 days ago.

"You are certain we are still on the course to Kattegat?" Ivar sat perched atop a treasure chest pushed up against the left side of the langskip. He had a thick rope used to raise and lower the sails wrapped around his arm to help keep him grounded to his spot. "We should all be enjoying a tall horn of ale by now!" Angry that he was unable to get up and walk around the vessel, Ivar rolled his cold blue eyes at the thought of spending another day on the ship. 

He would never tell any of his fellow Northmen he was uncomfortable and the cramped conditions of sailing did not fare well with his legs. The weather was miserable. There was a dense fog that seemed to surround each of the ships making it virtually impossible to see any other vessel. 

It had rained for the last five nights and four days. This was not just any rain. It was a freezing rain – like little blades of razor-sharp ice slicing through the air at your face, neck, and hands during the night. The weather during the day wasn't much better with the ferocious thunderstorms that pushed half of the sea into their boat.

Running his hands through his dark brown hair, Ivar squeezed the water from his long ponytail that hung at his shoulders. Trying to ignore the rain and saltwater dripping into his eyes, he sighed and clasped his hand around the arm ring given to him by his father. "Ragnar, show us to land soon," he said quiet enough so no one else could hear him.

He flexed his fingers, which were pruned, in his black half gloves. He was soaked to the bone. The heavy fur coat he wore did little to keep him warm, it felt as though it was just washed in the ocean itself.

Ivar was tired of being wet. His coat was wet. His blankets were wet. His clothes were wet. His boots were wet - if he did not remove them soon, he risked getting foot rot. The food was wet. Even his stools were wet, courtesy of inadvertently drinking saltwater.

"When I kill Lagertha and become King of Kattegat, I will no longer go on raids. I will send others to raid on my behalf," he said matter-of-factly, to no one in particular. "I no longer enjoy sailing." 

A soft chuckle came from behind him, "Ivar, you are the youngest brother. You have almost no claim to the throne," Ubbe said putting both hands on Ivar's shoulders. Leaning up to whisper in his brother's ear, he continued, "Besides, do you think you deserve the throne after what you did to Sigurd?" With a good-natured double pat, Ubbe stood up and balanced himself as he walked over to the edge of the ship, untied his pants and relieved himself over the side.  Still unable to bring himself to express his true disgust at Ivar for killing their brother Sigurd, Ubbe swallowed the hurt.

"You are aware that will blow back on all of us? Hmm, Ubbe?" Ivar said rolling his eyes. "All this wind," he circled his finger in the air to show his brother how strong the winds were blowing. His face held annoyance when Ubbe shrugged, suggesting he didn't care if his brother got pissed on. Ivar turned his head. "I have just as much claim to the throne as any of you. I am a son of Ragnar."

Looking at his brother, as he turned and smiled, Ivar admired how much Ubbe resembled their father. Their oldest brother Björn was the spitting image of Ragar, save the color of his golden blond hair. That hair color he inherited from his mother, Lagertha. But, Ubbe, looked he could have been Ragnar's twin. He had the same bright blue eyes, the same long dirty blond hair. Looking at Björn and Ubbe there was never any question that they deserved the name Ragnarsson. 

His other brother Hvitserk looked like their mother, Aslaug, with his green eyes and blond hair. Even if he wasn't the spitting image of his father, resembling Queen Aslaug and her family, the family that was the hero Sigurd and the shield-maiden Brynhildr, was enough to make all of the young maids in Kattegat want to bed him.

Ivar never paid attention to his brother Sigurd to figure out if he resembled either of his parents. To him, Sigurd was a non-factor.  Even with his disdain of Sigurd, he never meant to kill him.  It was a mistake.  Sigurd should have shut his mouth and stopped tormenting him so. Reminding him of Mother, with the strawberry blonde hair and the cleft in her chin, but saying such awful words. Those words would have never come from Mother’s mouth. 

Then there was Ivar. He looked nothing like either of his parents or any of his siblings. While all of his brothers had been some shade of blond, Ivar had dark brown hair. His eyes were blue like their father's but a different shade. Ragnar's eyes were almost the clear blue of ice melting after a thaw, where Ivar's were the deep blue of the lakes of Norway. But the thing that made Ivar stand out the most from his brothers was his inability to walk. Ivar learned to get around by crawling, dragging his legs which were bound together, behind him. He was also the angriest and cruelest of his brothers – he harbored a pain that not even he understood. He never fit into his family; not in looks, abilities, ideals… 

"The throne should go to the strongest, and best suited to rule, Ivar." Ubbe reminded Ivar as he pulled up the waistband of his britches. "That is Björn or have you forgotten?"

"Björn does not want it. He just wants to sail around the world and search for warm places," Ivar spat out.

Shaking his head, Ubbe returned to his seat using his legs to wedge himself into the corner of the ship as it continued to rock from side to side. "It doesn't matter. If he refuses, then I will take it. I am the next oldest. Then Hvitserk. Then you, Ivar. You have to wait your turn," Ubbe was careful not to mention his little brother Sigurd.  That pain was still too real. 

"Hvitserk?! Hvitserk is more fit to rule over Kattegat then me?" His voice rose an octave at the absurdity of the suggestion.  “And you think you’re stronger?” Why couldn't his brothers see him for the born leader that he was? Why didn't Ubbe, of all of his brothers, the most sensible and reasonable one of all, understand that he would make the best ruler? "Or I could just kill you all now," Ivar said, taking his dagger out of its boot sheath so he could clean his fingernails. 

"Might be easier when we get off these boats," Ubbe mocked. "That is if Odin doesn't take us all first." 

"You don't want the throne, Ubbe. Neither does Hvitserk. He just wants to bed every girl from Northumbria to Kattegat." Ivar shook his head, frustrated with his brothers' lack of ambition. They should be more excited to get Lagertha off of the throne. She killed their mother, "Now that we have avenged Ragnar, I will get my vengeance for Mother. And when the throne is empty, it is up to one of us to take it. None of you want it. So, it is mine." 

"If it is Odin's will," Ubbe said, before laying his head back and closing his eyes. There was nothing left to do but try to sleep. This would be another day left up to Odin for the crew to find their way back to Kattegat. 

Njord, the god of the sea, was not finished toying with the Great Army. Until he was, there was nothing they could do to get their ships back on course.

Ivar narrowed his eyes at Ubbe. He loved his brother, but it infuriated him that Ubbe did not believe him. Ivar was going to be a King. He could feel it, and he didn't need a Seer to confirm what he already knew. The gods had favored him. He had been chosen, and when it happened, he would make everyone that doubted him pay.

A woman woke up from a dream with a start. Panting heavily, she wiped the sweat from her brow and sat upright in the bed. Pulling all of her long burgundy hair to one shoulder, she closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself. She took a moment to touch the amulet on her chest and found herself relaxing slowly.

Placing her feet on the soft rug, she strolled over to the chair to collect her robes. The thick red robe was made from a blend of lamb's wool and cotton, with fur from the dire wolf to line the collar and cuffs. She put the robe onto her naked body and slowly fastened the clasps. Stepping into her red leather boots, he looked at herself in the glass that rested by the washing bowl on the table.

She looked as calm as she always did. But, inside she was shaken. The Lord of Light had given her the most peculiar vision. She wasn't exactly sure what it meant – that much had not been revealed to her. But she knew that there was a change about to happen in the Seven Kingdoms that did not bode well for her charge, Stannis Baratheon. Holding her head up high, she turned on her heel and exited her chamber.

"Ah, Melisandra, we were just making plans for our departure tomorrow," Leaning over a table with the sepia map on top King Stannis looked into the red eyes of the red woman standing in the doorway. "Come, tell me your thoughts on us traveling this way south?"

Ser Davos Seaworth, a tall man with balding grey hair, shook his head and huffed. He hated this plan. He hated how much Stannis had changed. But, most of all, he hated this Red Witch. "My Lord, we should rethink staying at Castle Black. The winter's gonna get harsher. Your wife and your daughter…"

"I'm thinking about my wife and my daughter!" Stannis yelled, cutting Ser Davos off, furrowing his heavy brows in the process. "Winter is coming and they can't survive it here. Castle Black is no place for a child. The horses are dying. The men are freezing and hungry. We have to move south before we lose the entire army – that is if those things don't kill us first!"

Calmly strolling over to Stannis and placing her hand on his arm, Melisandra lifted her red eyes to meet his. "My King, the Lord of Light has shown me a vision. It is not exactly clear to me the meaning or how exactly it means to play out, but I do believe Ser Davos is right. We should not leave this place." She moved slowly walking behind Stannis to stand on his left side. "Something or someone is coming from a land far away. Whatever this is, it threatens to change everything in the Seven Kingdoms."

"I have made up my mind," Stannis said slamming his hand on the table. "We leave at first light!" With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Melisandra and Ser Davos alone.

Curling his lip slightly at her, Ser Davos dared to ask, "You know how I feel about your visions. But, if it is something that will hurt Lord Stannis, I need to know."

Melisandra shook her head, for she could not quite articulate what she saw in her dream. "I cannot answer that as of yet, Ser Davos." Her vision had not given her enough to formulate coherent sentences. All she knew was it had something to do with a towheaded girl, a man with fierce blue eyes on the ground like a serpent, and dragons. She walked around the table and headed toward the door. "Just know, that the night is dark and full of terrors."

A/N - The first two chapters are a little slow.  They are needed backstory for my timeline.  Also, I’m a bit wordy...I talk a lot!  Let me know if you want to be added/deleted from the tag list.

Thanks!

 @a-mess-of-fandoms @oddsnendsfanfics @waiting4inspiration @simsadventures @chipster-21 @tgrrose, @alicedopey @ariesxslytherin, @funmadnessandbadassvikings @poisonous00 @grav3yardgh0sts-blog @ietss, @sununicornann, @we-are-only-halfway-home93, @thelastemzy, @ajxlawley, @inforapound, @dreamlesswonder86, @cornishdawn-blog  @becacosta 27@weirdestmentalityphilosopher, @naaladareia, @alexa4040 @nyx-daughterofchaos98, @moonlightsspirits @the-jess-life​@laketaj24; @lostinthoughtsandfeelings; @naaladareia; @oqueequesentes-borboletas​; @pokeasleepingsmaug, @synnersaint, @skadithegoddess @blackcoffeeand @greenteaformeplease @ultra-nina-bella​ @dina-m16, @fumblingthroughchaos @tiyetiye

[simsadventures]

Others

Masterlist for characters I’m obsessed with but don’t write that much for them! x

Don’t Go (Negan x Reader)

Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and dead crawl out. (heavy angst, death of character)

Remember the Time (Negan x Reader)

Thinking back to all the good times with Negan (fluff, memories, swearing)

Surprise (The Last Kingdom Oneshot)

Ragnar comes home after a raid, and things go south very quickly. (fluff, smut, not that much of a plot)

Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Ransom buys you a gift and you surprise him when you wear it for the first time. Safe to say it is a very good surprise, for both of you. (smut, anal sex, dom/sub theme, daddy kink, swearing)

[honestsycrets]

The Third Wife

❛ pairing | Ragnar x reader

❛ type | (?)

❛ summary | Ragnar is caught in a lie he can’t take back.

❛  warnings | murder, death, younger seasons, polygyny, dark!lagertha

requests filled | Hi I was wondering if it would be possible for you to write a story about the reader and Ragnar as they have their first child together and she decides to name him after athelstan. And as their child grows Ragnar notices how much his son remind him of his old friend

Can you please do a series where Ragnar has a secret family with the reader that no one in his family know about until they one day catch him out and about with the reader and their child. Aslaug decide to tell the reader the truth about Ragnar. Now Ragnar has to manage the flames he caused.

Hi, I have a request for a Ragnar x reader one shot about Ragnar marrying (after leaving Aslaug) a younger woman and having children with her. Thanks!

In a home of many children, it is scarce to get time alone. 

Sliding out of the home during midday was the only way to take your beloved bath on those days. Your beloved thralls would care for the children as you bathed in a clear stream, the pebbles under your toes and fishes dancing delightfully underfoot. 

In these spare minutes, you can run the hunk of soap over your body. Honey is a distant pleasure. One that your oldest son… Vesteinn had given you. Your nipples perk under the soap, the cool water from your hands falling over the perk of your breasts. Your mind wanders.

“Touch her here.” 

Fingers drifted between your lips. Shy, quiet gasps from his lips. His hips snapping, time with rapid thrusts of fingers over your clit. A silent scream. A slap of hips. Cumming, cumming and-- god, those blue eyes set into a pale face. Not your husband’s sultry eyes. No. 

They were far too… concerned for that. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

Your fingers sneak between your lips at the memory. It was this memory that left you questioning. Was Vesteinn really ever your husband’s child? Was it… his?

“Queen (Y/N).” 

The voice comes somewhere behind you. You turn, long hair slapping your naked breasts. A woman stands where you expect a man. Her hair cropped short like a slave’s, eyes trained upon the postnatal bump that distended your stomach. 

“Excuse… me?” you tremor. Your hands snap in front of your body, pressing a line of cleavage together.

“That is what they call you, is it not?” 

You wad closer, making out the sharp angles of this woman’s face. A coin sits upon her forehead etched of gold. A rune that has been turned down. The headdress of a queen. Your hair diffuses into the water at your waist. 

“It is,” you say, approaching a respectful distance. “My husband is--” 

“Ragnar Lothbrok.” 

Her thin lips purse. Yours press together, then puff out like a flower. Before you can ask her relation to your husband, the willowy woman outstretches her hand. You wad your way out of the water, taking her slender hand. 

“How did you…” you trail off, staring up at her. Her tall, willowy features. Almost like a witch. Perhaps she is a witch. You determine yourself not to upset her. 

“Ragnar is my husband.” She begins to draw a tale. You cut her short. 

“That is impossible. I assure you, he would ask me for a sec--” 

“You are the third wife.” 

Her voice commands both your respect and your understanding. You look up to her, eye to eye, understanding what she says to be the truth. “I don’t understand.” 

“You don’t need to,” Aslaug assures. She opens her lips to speak again but no words come from them. You repeat a respectful title when she slouches forward, her wolfish smile growing by the second. She collapses upon you. 

“Lady?” You grasp the furs over her chest, quickly realizing your hand runs over the wood shaft of an arrow that has pierced into her chest cavity. A nearly immediate kill. You drop onto the grassy plain underneath your ass, cradling her body. The bow woman behind her rests her shoulders and arms, having loosened her shot upon her kill.

“You’ve killed her!” 

“An unfortunate necessity,” the blonde bounds from her steps. She flicks the Queen Aslaug onto her chest over the grass. You shift the redhead’s hair behind the shell of her pale ear. The blonde strides forward, and when her boot hits the bottom of your foot, you realize that she will not go away. “Aslaug was a witch. You shouldn’t grieve for her.” 

“But you had no right! She was doing nothing wrong.” 

The woman bends down, bringing your head from Aslaug’s crumbled form over the ground. She forces your eyes to meet hers. They’re unwilling to meet her eyes. You hold her gaze for a scant few seconds. She hums in approval for your motion, angling your cheek this way, then that, admiring your soft and pleasant face. 

“I see why he likes you,” she whispers low, hand at last dropping from your face. She sets it with little regard over her knee. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Come along.” 

You’ve no clothes and no will to walk down the curving road toward home if that is where you are going at all. But when you look back toward your pile of clothes, she grasps you by your upper arm and all but throws you in the right direction. You stumble naked down the road, your hands covering your exposed breasts. To escape with a bow, would be risky. This woman is of even mind. If she were to aim, you feel she would not miss. 

The farm is empty. 

Strange as it were, a gathering of men clears the way with much ribaldry on their parts. The woman commands the rowdiest of the men to clean up her work in the river’s path. A black banner flies. It’s wings soar in the wind, almost as if flying toward victory rather than defeat. Lagertha! The men and women shout. 

The shieldmaiden queen? 

Lagertha pushes open the door to your home. Inside you smell the seared flesh of horse meat. Sitting there on your marital bed is your husband. He sits with his legs slightly ajar. A slim overtunic on his gut. Beside him though-- is your son. Your oldest son with hid black hair braided over his shoulder. The beginnings of a nice beard on his chin. He looks up, then his eyes flicker back down in respect to you. Ragnar sits taking your sight in, his hand at his beard. 

“You lied to me,” you know how little your words mean to him. 

Little enough that he took three wives. Not two, as he would have you think could be a possibility in the future, but three. His actions saturated in disrespect, his head turns very still. Vesteinn suddenly breaks the interaction. 

“Father…” he trails in a soft, smooth voice that sounds so… so familiar. “May I get mother a gown?”

Ragnar pushes the boy in the direction. He trudges off and brings back a beautiful dress, simple as it were. You take it from him when Ragnar speaks again, shooing Vesteinn off. “You see it in him too.” 

“Of course I do,” you say as you slip it on. “He’s just like him.” 

Lagertha settles beside her husband. They exchange a short few words before turning up to you. His voice commands a sigh, exasperated like a husband who has been pulled around by his wife. Perhaps that is what has happened, also. 

“It’s true that I lied,” Ragnar begins his explanation. “Aslaug was my second with, Lagertha my first and current.”

“So then taking me from Kattegat was--” 

“So that Ragnar could breed two different homes.” Lagertha finishes your sentence, head level and proud. Your head snaps to meet her gaze. “But there has been a development.” 

“What is that?” you ask. 

“Mother, look at this baby!” your daughter, young Dagny, comes in. She’s no older than the youngest of Ragnar’s children with Ubbe and in her arms is a large bundled package. You gasp, realizing that a small child is in her arms. 

“A boy,” you gasp, taking him from his half-sister’s arms. 

“His legs are funny.” 

Funny? Your hand slinks into the blankets, feeling his legs. The poor thing-- you exhale, realizing what sort of child you have in your arms. One that had been… touched by the gods. Ragnar sets his hands to his knees. 

“Aslaug can’t bring him up the way you can,” he speaks. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Ragnar’s eyes flicker toward the other room where Vesteinn exited. There is your answer. You brought up another man’s son without blaming him for that night. For letting Athelstan cum deep inside of you and taking his seed into the one-child he cherished as dearly as he cherished Bjorn. Your teeth crunch together but you nod. 

“Stoke the flames, Dagny.” 

You turn toward the fire, holding the small boy in your arms. “If I bring her children up,” you begin. “It will be in the old ways, Ragnar.” 

“There is no other way,” Lagertha says. No doubt having killed Aslaug of some lover’s quarrel. Why else would she have murdered her in such a way?

You settle with the knowledge, looking over your shoulder toward Ragnar in full knowledge of the doubt of the gods Athelstan helped curdle in your husband. Ragnar nods in agreement to your terms and then stops as if he wants to say something to you. He sneaks behind you, pressing a small kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place there, recognizing your doubts.

“Was I always only your womb?” you ask him.

“You’re much more than that.” He speaks, but you aren’t sure you believe him. You call your thralls to help instill a bed for the king-- and true queen, slipping out from his arms behind the divider to where the children were. Your five. Aslaug’s four. 

Home just got more complicated.

“Mother?” Vesteinn comes beside you. His thumb comes up, pushing away dripping tears over your cheekbones. “Are you…” 

“I’m fine,” you answer quickly, holding your newfound son to your chest. “Look, your new brother. His name is Ivar. Ivar the Boneless.” 

Vesteinn grimaces internally, but smiles as he turns his brilliant blue eyes to the boy. You’re lying-- and he knows it. “He’s beautiful, mother.”

@supernaturalvikingwhore @generic-fangirl @unassumingviking@babypink224221 @multi-fandom-fanfiction @beautifully-quixotic@tomarisela @alicedopey @candyheartsandcigarettes @majikpyrohades@p8tn0lish @naaladareia @allvikingsfanfic @bat-fam-blob @vikingwolfsworld23 @notyouaveragegirl @ladywolf44005