#ragnassons

[popcorn1989]

Pairing: Floki x Ivar

Warning: Blood, Hallucination, magic?

Summary: Floki and Ivar get lost in the forest, and they soon come across a secret hidden deep in the forest. And they really try everything to escape.

Told from Ivar's point of view.

No real description of the witch, let your mind spin

Words: 3573

Witchcraft

Ivar looked down at his feet and groaned again as he got tangled in the fern. He stopped and pulled at the fern, but this time they seemed to have wrapped themselves around his ankle and would not let go, no matter how hard he pulled. Ivar looked up for a moment, of course Floki had moved on, but it seemed he was struggling as much as he was. Ivar hoped he would not go too far, for soon the darkness that this forest threw off would swallow him, and the mist did not make it any better. Once again he tore at the ferns, and finally they released him. The wind that blew through the branches left a slight chill on his body, his blue eyes seeing only trees, bushes and cobwebs everywhere he looked. "Floki?" he asked cautiously as an uneasy feeling gripped him. The old man turned and fixed his gaze on him, "I know" he only spoke and looked around. "Are you sure we are in the right place, Floki?" asked Ivar as he slowly started to move and stopped when he saw Floki shake his head.

"Please what? You said you knew where it was going!" Now Floki nodded. "I knew that" Ivar exhaled annoyed, "What do you mean? That you took a wrong turn a few minutes ago? Then we should go back" even though Ivar didn't feel like it now, his legs ached and when he thought about how many times he had got stuck in those ferns, he felt it was better. He didn't like this place at all and wanted to leave as soon as possible. He didn't believe in ghosts or magic, not really, but in places like this he did have some thoughts about it. "I can't do that," Floki said, coming towards him, still looking around. Slowly, with his hand, he reached his axe and drew it. Now Ivar was sure Floki felt it too, he couldn't really describe it, but it felt like they were no longer alone. The air became stuffy, even though the wind was damp and cool. The feeling spread all over his body and stayed like a stone in his stomach. "What do you mean you can't, Floki?" whispered Ivar now, although he didn't have to.

Floki was still looking around attentively, and slowly the tension became unbearable for Ivar. "We have been walking in this direction for several hours" Ivar stumbled for a moment, "What? Are you saying you haven't known this forest for a few hours? And you don't say it, but we are still going further in this direction?" Ivar was furious, and although he whispered, he was able to express it. He was about to add something and tell Floki that he was an old piece of wood when Floki put his hand over his mouth and silenced him. "Shhhh" came from him, and his eyes fixed on a spot between the trees. "We'll turn back anyway…" Ivar rolled his eyes "… and-quickly" Floki spoke and turned Ivar around, he didn't have to be asked twice, he limped off without saying anything in response.

Stumbling through ferns and bushes and over stones and roots again. But relief flooded his body, as if he was grateful to be able to leave this place. "I don't believe it" Ivar spoke to himself, "I just don't believe you didn't say anything. By the gods, what was there? I noticed it too" Floki put his axe away, but he glanced behind now and then. Ivar thought it was pointless as long as they just finally left this forest. "I have been in this forest before, but it has changed. Besides, I thought we could just walk through it, skirt the roughest part. Seems like a plague to me" Ivar looked at Floki for a moment "A plague? What do you mean? Like some kind of flu?" Floki nodded "Something like that, I think the gods have left this place" he turned again. "Something is dwelling in this forest and polluting it" - "Then it's really better to leave this place as soon as we can. We don't want to get infected" - "It's not that, it seems to dwell deep in the roots. The dead live here, I'm sure of it" - "Dead people can't live, Floki", Ivar now said, somewhat amused, even though his feelings told him otherwise.

"Have you never heard of Huldra?" Ivar shook his head and laughed nervously, "Whatever you want to tell me, please don't" he really wasn't in the mood for horror stories now, not as long as they hung in one himself. "But it's important" Floki now said forcefully, "If you see a young woman, avert your gaze. Don't follow her…" - "Floki I told you not to, do you really think I would follow a young woman walking back and forth in a forest like this?" Floki shrugged, "I don't know, that's why I'm telling you" - "And what should the lady in question do? One blow with my axe, and she's dead" - "It's not that easy" Floki gave a short laugh. "Well I shall not care Ivar, I am married" Ivar was about to say something when he lunged forward and hit the ground hard. "Bloody hell" he cried and turned onto his back, he put the crutch beside him and looked down at his feet, a thick fern had wrapped itself around his leg. He looked up at Floki who was looking down at him with a cheeky grin on his face. "Next time you tell me you know a better way, I won't come with you, and I'll just take the normal route. Is that clear?" he said sourly, reaching for the fern.

With both hands, but as soon as his fingers touched her, he felt her tighten. "Floki?" said Ivar, startled, "I think…" - "Shhh" came from Floki, he took a few steps to his feet and drew the axe. Rushed, Ivar looked around, his heart began to hammer hard in his chest and the feeling of getting out of here as quickly as possible intensified. Something cracked and a dull sound was heard, as if something was being thrown to the ground over and over again. "Floki I can't get the fern off," he whispered and grabbed it again, but this time he didn't flinch, and the fern wrapped itself more and more around his leg. Now he was sure he hadn't imagined it "Floki" cried Ivar "The tendril, it's wrapping more and more around my leg" Floki looked at him, the tendril was now up to his knee and getting thicker, the green skin, seemed to move or breathe, whatever it was, he couldn't get it loose.

Floki's eyes snapped open, and his axe whizzed down, hitting the tendril several times until it squeaked and let go. Ivar crawled backwards a few meters as he saw the tendril crawl away onto the ground, soon it was swallowed up by ferns and bushes "What the hell" cried Ivar as he was grabbed by Floki and brought to his feet "Keep going fast" he shouted and pushed him as he put the crutch in his hand. Ivar's gaze fell to his right, and for a moment he could make out a woman. He limped as fast as he could, and sometimes he shook his head in disbelief. That wasn't true, his mind must have played that on him, it was just a normal tendril, there was no woman there either, no. He saw Floki walking beside him. "Tell me you didn't see that, and I dreamed it" but Floki just shook his head "I saw it, let's be quiet. Come this way" he said and turned to the right. They did not speak another word. Both of them were breathing heavily and Ivar thought he could feel Floki's fear too, for he did not believe that he himself could be so afraid.

The feeling of being followed did not leave Ivar.

For it is I who will come for you...

Ivar kept looking over his shoulders, they had been walking for so long now, but the forest did not change. Floki had said nothing more, but now he was in front of him, and he stopped too. "What?" he whispered as Floki slowly turned to face him. "We should have been out of the forest hours ago" he said, and he looked around, "Something doesn't want us to go" Floki scared Ivar even more with these words, but the only thing he could do was laugh. Floki looked at him confused, "What's so funny?" - "I think we should just keep walking. We're imagining this, see around us, all over these mushrooms and…." he opened his mouth when he saw something strange and pointed to it. "Are we breathing that all the time?" he looked at Floki to make sure he saw it too, and realized Floki was putting a cloth in front of his nose and walking towards the strange mushrooms.

"Stay there," he said through the cloth, holding up a hand in his direction to indicate that he should stop. He crouched in front of the mushrooms and narrowed his eyes. Ivar didn't need to get closer, he could see from back here how the mushrooms moved as if they were taking a breath and when they exhaled they blew fine dust into the air. "Get away from there," Ivar said tensely, but Floki reached out with his axe and tapped it with one of the corner of the blade. The mushrooms blew more dust into the air and immediately contracted. Floki stood up and walked backwards to Ivar. "Maybe" said Floki and looked around, "No, for sure" he spoke. Ivar did the same and realized that the black earth floor was not only covered with ferns and bushes, but with quantities of these strange mushrooms. And if you concentrated on a spot further away, you could clearly see dust flying around in the air. "I'm tired, Floki," he said, tapping his legs, but it wasn't just them that made him tired. He had been feeling like he wanted to sleep for some time. "Not now, we have to get out of the forest," he said and started walking again.

Groaning, Ivar followed him when suddenly something grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the ground. He looked at Floki, who turned abruptly and came running towards him. Ivar turned on his back again, he was tired of it. He looked to his feet and snapped his eyes open, slapping Floki's hands away as he tried to reach for the tendrils wrapped around both his legs. "You know, I'm glad we are so well armed" whispered Ivar "This is no good, a bow with a few arrows, two axes" spoke Floki looking at the tendril, his hand ran over them and his fingers moved strangely, but he did not touch the tendril. "I still have my three throwing knives" - "What are you going to fight?" - "Whatever it is, we can do it" Floki chuckled "It's all in our heads, it's not real" Ivar pointed to the tendrils on his legs "Feels real though" - "Looks real too" Floki spoke thoughtfully and tapped one of the thorns with his index finger. Immediately, it moved a few inches up Ivar's legs "Don't!" cried Ivar "The other one had no thorns! I don't want her to slit my skin" - "But if it's not real?" - "It is Floki, it is!" spoke Ivar quickly as Floki tried to touch the tendril again. "Then, like, before?" he asked, taking his axe in his hand.

Ivar looked closely at the tendrils, they were stronger, one without thorns, the other with, he didn't feel like finding out if the thorns could really hurt him. But they tightened their grip as soon as you touched them, and he was sure it wasn't a dream, or a hallucination, he looked at Floki and nodded. He raised the axe over his head and with a quick blow, the axe hit the tendril with the thorns. Floki was startled as the axe bounced off with a swing and Ivar cried out as the tendrils wrapped further and faster around his legs and with a jerk he was dragged away.

Floki had tried to grab his hands, which he had held out to him, but he was too slow. Ivar heard Floki scream, probably still running after him, but the sound of leaves and branches brushing against his face soon covered everything. The fine wounds they left on his face and arms were clearly felt. Was this a hallucination or a dream, but why did he feel everything? Even the speed with which he was being dragged through the forest made his heart slip, he felt sick from the uncertainty, the cold and the fear made him freeze to the bone, but soon they stopped and what his eyes saw made him unable to catch his breath for a moment.

This is Hel ….

Behold me and find me...

It seemed like an open space, surrounded by dense trees and bushes, a campfire in the middle with a large pot on it. To the left of it, an altar on which skulls and candles stood. And on the right, a person in a stooped position. She did not move, but he could hear her talking in a foreign language. Only slowly did he get his breath back and life into his limbs, he tried to sit up. But he soon gave up when he realized that the tendrils had encircled him up to his back. In the corner of his eye, he could perceive the person standing up and slowly turning to face him. It was a woman, as he had guessed from her voice, but she was different. She had no eyes and a strange headdress, but he had the feeling that she saw exactly that he was there, lying right in front of her. She is a witch, that much he was sure of, but what did she want from him, she raised her hand and pointed at him, it was covered with mushrooms and moss, she spoke to him, but he did not understand a single word. Ivar closed his eyes, maybe it was just a dream after all, a really vivid one, but still he could wake up.

He snapped his eyes open as he noticed the long fingernails in his shoulder and saw her pointing a dagger at him. "What the …." he said and grabbed the best thing he could find next to him to fight back, it was hard, hard enough to smash her skull in, but as he lashed out a tendril grabbed his hand and stopped him from hitting the creature in front of him. She began to rant, pointing and moving towards the altar, her body revealing the one she had been talking to earlier, and once again Ivar closed his eyes. But when he opened them, it was still there, a small skeleton, sitting and leaning against the tree. The tendril pulled his hand to the ground and the stone fell from his hand. When Ivar tried to grab it with his other hand, he stopped. There was no stone in his hand, it was a skull with its lower jaw missing. "Oh gods" Ivar spoke softly and put his head on the ground, he didn't want to give up, but he also didn't see a way out of here. The woman took something from the altar and showed it to Ivar. A heart inwardly he hoped it was not from a human. Slowly she came towards him, blood running down her mossy forearm, and she muttered something to herself.

When she reached him, he was out of breath, as if he had run a marathon, she knelt beside him and placed the heart on his chest, exactly where his heart was hammering so wildly in his chest, she raised the dagger with both hands and shouted something in her language. Again he closed his eyes, surrendering to his fate. The dagger whizzed downwards, for a moment something could be heard splitting the air and the woman cried out. Startled, Ivar opened his eyes, but the woman was no longer there, Floki was standing in front of the fire with an arrow at the ready, looking around frantically "Where is she?" he asked, but Ivar only gasped "You saw her too?" - "Of course" A shadow in the corner of Ivar's eye drew his attention "There" he shouted and Floki's arrow whizzed through the air, but all either of them saw was black mist dissipating. The heart on Ivar's chest slid down as he squirmed to the side to see more "Floki, the axe" he shouted and held out his free hand to him. Before Floki could even put on another arrow, he threw the axe that was on his belt in Ivar's direction, it landed a little further away from him.

From the darkness, a woman could be heard giggling, branches cracked and leaves rustled, but the fire did not give enough light to see. Ivar tried to reach the axe with his free hand, but it was too far away, his fingertips only touching the wood. "We're through the forest, straight to Hel" Floki spoke slowly as he let another arrow fly through the air. "Floki save the arrows," Ivar shouted as he finally grabbed the axe and immediately struck at the tendril on his arm. They let go and as he followed them with his eyes he saw dirty feet in a bush "There" he shouted, and he noticed the draft as another arrow flew in said direction. Again, only smoke. "Three more," Floki shouted as he took an arrow from his quiver.

"May the gods protect us" - "They are not here Floki" said Ivar as he hit the tendrils on his legs over and over again, but they did not retreat. He looked at Floki, about to ask him for help, when he saw the witch behind him. "Behind you," he shouted, Floki turned, but a cry of horror came from him as she rammed her dagger into his side. Bow and arrow fell to the ground as he reached for the wound and fell to his knees, but the woman was no longer in sight. Both were out of breath and looked around, Ivar holding the axe as tightly as he could, ready to strike. Again Floki, the witch above him, screamed, and he tried to stop her from pressing the dagger into his throat. With a flourish, he tried to throw the axe, but the witch dissolved into black smoke. "We cannot fight what does not exist" said Floki, who now drew his sword. "We are without protection" he continued to speak, trying to keep everything in sight, it seemed she was gone, the feeling that they were not alone are gone.

Maybe she had disappeared… just gone

Because this is it….

Ivar tried to control his breathing and pull himself together, "Whatever it is, we will make it." All he heard was Floki grunting. His eyes fell on the heart that had been on his chest earlier. It still seemed to be beating, and the fine veins gleamed slightly silvery. He was about to split it with the axe, for something told him it was important to her, but at that moment something curled around his hand. The witch hissed at him and showed her yellow teeth. A shiver ran down his spine. She is the devil, he thought to himself, but he realized abruptly that he was right. An arrow flew, and it seemed as if it would simply fly through her, as if she did not exist. The witch was getting closer and closer to his face, the smell almost knocking him unconscious, but they only had this one chance. Another arrow flew straight through the scars where her eyes should be. Only one more arrow, Ivar thought, searching for the heart with his free hand. "Floki hit that!" cried Ivar, throwing the heart as high as he could.

The witch let go of him and made an inhuman sound, for a heartbeat he thought Floki had not understood, but the last arrow flew and stuck in the tree next to the witch. Heart pierced and without thinking, he struck the axe into the witch's head, she did not disappear, she slumped to the ground, and it seemed as if the world would change. It became brighter, the mist dissipated, the fire was smothered. The tendrils that had held his legs so convulsively were twisted. "Ivar? Ivar? Come on, wake up!" He groaned and looked to Floki who was with him, shaking him by the shoulders. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them Floki was bent over him. "Gods, how deep can you sleep?" - "What?" he asked sleepily and straightened up, lying warmly snuggled in furs, some of them wrapped around his legs. "I thought we were going into the forest to hunt. You know I know a good place" Slowly Ivar's head cleared, the fog lifting. "What, wait…. I thought we were already…" he swallowed, he had this feeling that wouldn't let him go. "Today is not a good day for it…."

No, today was not a day for it

[deathswcrn]

NEW VERSE

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

One morning, whilst she was playing out on a pile of rocks with her brother, Taron, Brynja saw smoke rise from her family's home. The smoke was a Thalmor contingent, rooting out Talos worship from their home. Her mother, a Nord, was found guilty. Her father died defending her. Only the children survived, after narrowly missing witnessing the executions. The leader of the Thalmor, a dark-haired altmer with a wicked grin, allowed the children to go free. They, she said, would be the first witnesses to a new age. They would tell the world that the end of the worship of men was nigh.

So Brynja and her older brother Taron fell into the hands of Gudrun, a neighbour who found them wandering at the edge of Windhelm, frozen, starving, and exhausted. Gudrun took them in, fed them, heard their story. He'd known Ragna, their mother - once fancied her, though she did not return his feelings. So, knowing the fate they would see if no-one took them in, and seeing Ragna in Brynja's face, he took in the Ragnasdottir and Ragnasson, keeping them from an orphanage and strangers.

Gudrun was part of the Thieves' Guild, though only tacitly. Brynja followed in his footsteps, her tough-as-nails attitude and fierce loyalty to Gudrun proving an asset to the Guild, though he never allowed her to join officially, wanting Brynja to have a chance at life free from them. Taron left to go to the College of Winterhold when he was of age, and it left Brynja feeling vaguely alone and alienated from the family she had left.

Things fell apart all at once. The theft of the Skeleton Key and the subsequent collapse of the Thieves' Guild ended in Gudrun being killed by a rival, orphaning Brynja for a second time. Sometime later, she recieved a note from the College of Winterhold by a concerned member telling her that her brother had disappeared, in search of a city in Apocrypha called the Cipher's Midden.

Stressed, grieving, and seeking a way to break into Apocrypha to find Taron, Brynja joined the Order of the Vigilants of Stendarr, despite viewing them as zealots and frequently failing to do her job on purpose, allowing non-threatening werewolves and vampires to slip the net. She hopes she will find a way into Apocrypha thanks to her access to the Vigil's archives, but she knows it's a slim guess - and meanwhile, Taron spends more and more time in Hermaeus Mora's grip. She doesn't know what kind of person he will be when she finds him - but she will make the delve, and she will retrieve him, whatever the cost.

Also, she's going to find the altmer who killed her parents and skewer her, too. That's a long-term goal, though.

[thalygremlinsson]

“Here I am fulfilling my rightful king duties by helping my loyal besties the Ragnassons take back their homeland. I think the irish peasant doesn’t like me very much so I’ll try mu luck with this new skinny punk uthred picked up like a strayed dog. I’ll teach him a thing or two about scoring with the wenches, as he doesn’t seem to have a clue. Aren’t I the hot stuff in this selfie? #rightfulking #alfredfakeaf “

Don't know if I'm the only one that has never seen these pics or what but uhm here have these from Ole Christoffer Ertvag's (aka Sven Kjartansson) Instagram :p

[lavender-romancer]

Bruised

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Ivar loves war more than you

CW: arguments, swearing, slight smut and submissive Ivar, anger, aggression

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Even though he was your betrothed, you knew that you'd always be second best in Ivar's head and you just had to accept it. Whilst you had no say over the marriage there was no use being bitter, he was obsessed with war and blood. You yourself were also a warrior but you were pregnant and couldn't risk the date of their heir in such a careless way but, Ivar didn't share your anxiety towards death. He only thought of Valhalla, his obsession with becoming a warrior and dying noble and brave was taking its toll on you and you didn't know how to tell him it was happening because of him.

"I made some beautiful kills today, my love." Ivar grinned as he came into your quarters, you were laid back on the pillows cradling your ever growing stomach bump.

He was covered in blood, hadn't even spared a moment to wipe his face and you hated how attractive you found him in this high-testosterone state. Ivar was way too excited to realise how clean your night dress was as he lay a hand over your stomach and just smiled up at you. His sweet face sending a warm feeling to your stomach because you knew he was home safe, at least for now.

"Be careful, my love. No pressing, I think she's sleeping." You put your hand on top of his gently.

"Ah, she will be a strong girl like her mother with more need for sleep than the normal person!" He joked and you slapped him on the head lightly with a laugh.

"No matter how excited you are you always find time to discuss my sleeping habits don't you, dearest?" You raised an eyebrow and Ivar giggled. He climbed up onto your bed and thrust off his tunic that was spattered with blood on the sleeves. He grabbed a cloth from beside the bed and cleaned his face, seeming to have woken up from all the excitement and realising how clean you were.

"I'll always be happy to discuss how much sleep you require, plus making a little bit of fun toward you is always my favourite pastime." Ivar leant on your breasts, holding the other in his hand as you stroked his hair.

"Someone's comfortable, hmm?" You asked and he hummed a yes into your chest, enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Pregnancy has made these bigger, I'll have to get you pregnant again so I can enjoy it once more." He kissed both your breasts and then your lips as you hit him on the head again.

"You're a dirty man, my betrothed. Not even married me and already filled me with a child." You looked down at him lovingly, your anxiety calmed as soon as he walked in the door and you knew it wasn't healthy for the baby but you didn't know what you'd do if he was seriously hurt.

"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.

"Don't leave me again, okay?" You held him close to you and squashed him against your body and closed your eyes.

"You know I can't agree to that." Ivar whispered and you sighed, not saying anything else "Y/n, you knew what I was when you accepted my proposal. I am a Ragnarsson, I am born to do this and have a right."

You still said nothing and you knew the child growing in you made your emotions go into a concentrated form whenever you felt something but you couldn't deal with it anymore. You pushed him away from you and turned over in bed, hugging yourself and staying silent.

"Y/n, please." Ivar sounded desperate but you couldn't see his blood spattered body right now, you couldn't deal with the reminder that Ivar would be gone by the morning.

Ivar sighed and turned over, back to you as he slowly went into a deep sleep. You sat up and lit a candle by your bed, you started circling your hand over your stomach.

"You're going to be perfect, and no one will ever hurt you. You're going to stay with me and learn new languages and arithmetic and how to govern. I don't know if you'll meet your father, but I will always be here to keep you safe, little one." You were whispering but Ivar heard every word and it sent a pang of pain to his stomach, he felt too unwillingly guilty.

Ivar craved war, he craved death by battle and yet he wanted you and wanted to be with you constantly. He wanted a lazy morning with you, massaging your aching back and falling asleep on your chest. Ivar wanted to kiss you, he wanted to kill, he wanted to give you love but he needed to vanquish all who dared test him and his rule.

You were smiling down at your stomach, imagining when he or she would be in your arms after however long and hard the birth would be. It would all be worth it to hold their delicate little body in your arms and feel that connection that you had felt immediately with Ivar. You missed that immediate connection you made with Ivar, you knew that you already had it with this baby even though they weren't here yet. The moment you'd met Ivar you knew you had to speak to him more, you had to find out everything about him and couldn't sleep without thinking of him. Even though he didn't seem to want you anymore you still craved him and conversations with him, your love for your betrothed was unmistakable and unmatched. Until this baby was born there was no one you loved more than Ivar.

Ivar suddenly turned over and sat up next to you, it made you jump slightly but his next movements were slow. He shuffled over and leant his head on your shoulder, laying a hand over yours on your stomach and gripping it. He kissed your shoulder and stayed quiet, just holding you and your stomach gently showing his affection through touch. Ivar had never been good with words when it came to gentleness or affection, he was so much better at physical representations of it.

"I'm sorry." Ivar whispered and you leant your head on his.

"It's okay, angel." You kissed the top of his head and he turned his face to look at yours with tears in his eyes.

The blood still clung to his cheeks and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable next to you that you struggled to not take him into your arms and never let him leave. But you knew you couldn't control him and you couldn't make him stay.

"I'm not good for you, I just cause you stress and I… I just can't fucking say what I want to and I just- fuck," he paused "I love you. I love you so much and fuck I just loose all my words when it's only you with me. I'm so enchanted by you, my love."

"We both know you're not always the best with words but you have your moments. That was lovely." You smiled softly and leant forward till you were nose to nose with Ivar.

"You're just trying to make me laugh now." Ivar smirked and you blushed, unable to hide your intentions. You loved seeing him smile.

"Yeah and so what?" You slowly kissed him and Ivar held your face with one hand and kept the other hand on your stomach.

"I will never let anything bad happen to either of you," Ivar said quietly as you drew apart and rested your foreheads together "You are my world, my night sky full of stars, my sea full of creatures, my reason for being. I have never cared for a person the way I care for you, never take my need for war as a dismissal of you and your feelings."

You closed your eyes and wiped your eyes, unable to control your emotions and how your hormones amplified everything. You missed him so much day to day that moments like these were so treasured.

"Don't cry, my love. You are brave and so am I, I will never die because the Gods do not want it. The Seer told me so." Ivar stroked your cheek.

"I do not cry for myself or for you, I cry for our unborn child. What if they never meet you? What if they never know your care or your love?" You pulled away from Ivar a bit and wiped your eyes and your nose again.

"I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar and Aslaug, I was cursed at birth to live a life of suffering and hopelessness and yet I am King. I am unmistakably the ruler of Kattegat and respected by kingdoms str thing across our great lands. Our child will be blood of my blood, they will be as battle hungry as me and as respected as I. Regardless of their troubles they will feel our love, they will know their importance in this world." Ivar held your face in both of his hands and you smiled at him before kissing his cheeks one by one.

"They will be your blood and better for it. I just long for you, it's selfish and I know it is but I can't help my need for you." You looked longingly into Ivar's eyes and another sharp pain hit Ivar's stomach as he thought about you missing him.

"I just wish you could turn your mind off whilst I am away, that you could separate your anxiety from your general thoughts because I will always come back to you." Ivar whispered, leaning the side of his head against the headboard.

"If only I could believe you." You smiled sadly and Ivar looked away from your eyeline, he was ashamed.

"I cannot give you guarantees. I know that that isn't good enough and I know that you need more than that but this is who I am. Maybe it's healthier for both of us to have more realistic opinions of each other at least for now." Ivar looked at you sympathetically and you hated it, like you were some cooped up lover who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"So I can't expect you to be better? I can't want you to be more supportive and more present in our relationship and your relationship with this baby? What about when they're born and you won't even be there? They won't even know their father!" You yelled, your face getting hot with anger and frustration.

"Oh for fuck, this is ridiculous! You knew who I fucking was! You knew and yet you still carried on. You knew you could get pregnant, you knew we'd get married and yet you just fucking expect something else from me!" Ivar screamed back and your eyes started welling up, you stood up and walked away from the bed, back facing him.

"I don't want to see you when I wake up. Don't fucking come back for all I care, if you love war more than me and your child then what the fuck are you even doing here." You said in a calm voice, not willing to let him see you cry.

"Maybe I fucking will, maybe I'll be fucking dead tommorow! You'd love that wouldn't you, fucking slut making me get you pregnant so you could hold all this shit on me!" He yelled it with so much malice you had to grit your teeth together behind your closed mouth, holding back so much aggression because you couldn't fight him and keep your baby safe.

"You're a fucking bastard, Ivar. Stop acting like I'm a whore! I'm no thrall, I'm not one of you little one night stands who doesn't deserve anything from you, my king. I'm a fucking Princess in my own right, I owe you nothing! We both knew I could get pregnant and we both knew we would be married if it happened. You said you loved me, you fucking said it first you… you fucking…" you trailed off, unable to finish because your head was so scrambled. What was he saying?

"You're not worth the breath I used to shout at you, so what if I said it first?! You fucking entrapped me! You made me love you with all your treatment of me and stupid fucking affection. Of course I had to get out and go to war because you were turning me into something I wasn't!" Ivar yelled his eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed in an anger induced state. You turned around to face him

"Yeah that's right. I made you fall for me. Just like how I made myself love you, listen to yourself, Ivar. You're not thinking straight, I thought you loved this child? I thought you loved this relationship but God, what are we anymore?" You let a tear drop down your cheek as you held your stomach with one hand and your back with the other. You wished your baby was big enough to start kicking so you didn't feel so alone.

Ivars' expression changed, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes softened as he realised what he'd said and what he couldn't take back. He knew what he'd done, he knew he'd disregarded your own sacrifices and disrespected you repeatedly. You were carrying his fucking child and yet he couldn't offer you even an ounce of respect. He asked too much of you, he would leave you for weeks at a time and only send letters every now and then. Before you were pregnant he would send you letters and send for you like a dog because he missed your touch and your kind words and now…now you were standing in front of him tears streaming holding your child in your hand.

Ivar crawled forward on the bed and three his legs around to be hanging off the side. He held out his hand to you and you took it with the hand holding your back. Ivar would give you the fucking moon if he had too, to win back your trust because he didn't mean any of it. He just missed your presence, your love and your affection that he had cursed you for not so long ago. As you stepped closer to him you went in-between his legs that had fallen apart, he leant his head gently on your stomach with the side of his face and stroked your stomach with his hand.

This unexpected tenderness made you well up, you had to look up to stop yourself from sobbing because you had missed this so much it hurt. Placing a hand on his head you stroked his hair gently and Ivar closed his eyes, taking in your scent and how in love with you he really was. He was so undeserving of love in his own opinion that he pushed it away without a moment's thought toward the consequences of his harsh words.

"I'm so sorry. I will be better, I will do better, I will be better." Ivar sounded like he was crying and you snaked your hand round to be under his chin, slowly lifting it up and seeing tears in his eyes.

He looked up at you with tearful puppy dog eyes and you fell in love with him all over again. You wanted to slap him, tell him he was a cunt for talking to you that way but violence wouldn't help anything so you just stroke his cheek with your thumb as you hand held his face. Ivar put his arms around your legs and hugged you close to him before kissing your bump.

"I don't understand why you treat me the way you do, but fuck…I know you love me. You have to be better, I can't take it especially when stress can impact the baby. I just can't do it anymore." You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and went back to looking at Ivar who had started sobbing and then dropped to the floor his legs apart as he dragged himself to bend his knees. You tried to help him up but he stopped you, holding your skirts he looked up at you with wet eyes.

"I beg for your forgiveness, I beg for your love, I beg for you to be my wife. I will fucking beg and keep myself in pain for as long as is necessary because I can't loose you." Ivar let out a sob and you couldn't help but let your mouth open slightly. He had never shown such vulnerability, such willingness to change. The King was on his knees begging for you to be his. You knelt down in front of him and took his face in your hands, kissing him softly and tasting salt mixed with copper and ale. It was quite a horrific mix on your tongue but you didn't care, you needed to be close to him.

Ivar put a hand on your ass and pulled you closer to him as one of your hands went round his neck and put pressure on both sides slightly. You'd learnt pretty quickly in your sexual relationship that Ivar didn't always enjoy being in control and loved submitting. It wasn't an overtly sexual interaction more of a powerplay, he knew that you were in charge and let you do whatever you wanted. You began to kiss his neck softly as he whimpered near your ear.

"I fucking love you." He whispered to you and you choked him harder, his head rolling backwards as he moaned.

"I know you do, Angel," You licked the lobe of his ear and heard his breath shudder slightly. "If you ever talk to me like that again, I will never touch you like this ever again." You withdrew your touch from him and he nodded, you slapped him and raised your eyebrow.

"Y-yes I understand." He whispered looking up at you adoringly and you smiled.

Helping him get his knees out of the uncomfortable position and be straight out in front of him you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead "I love you." He told you and you believed him, he trusted you so deeply.

"Now come here." You gently pulled his head to lean on your chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and started crying softly, you could tell how remorseful he felt and how much he regretted what he had done.

"I'm staying with you tomorrow." Ivar whispered against your breasts and you smiled, stroking his hair slowly.

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

AN: I'm very happy to do more Ivar imagines if anyone wants any. I haven't written Vikings in like three years but still adore it xx

[swagstudentpandastuff]

Having child with Hvitserk includes:

AN:So I finished these headcanon and I hope you guys would enjoy it! First few headcanons aren’t gender neutral but I hope the rest is okay. As always your opinion is welcome! If you notice any grammar mistakes please report so I can fix. Headcanons and moodboards are OPEN so feel free to request! That’s all! Enjoy!

Requested by: @thisisparadisemylove

- At first he didn’t believe you when you told him you are expecting his child. He asked you one very dumb question and make you glare at him and leave without a word.

- For days you didn’t want to talk to him and even on feasts you avoided his gaze. The silence is clear sign that someone is angry so at the end he didn’t have choice but to apologize for his behavior. However you didn’t give up so easily and he had to try much harder but eventually he convinced you to talk with him.

- During your pregnancy Hvitserk tried not to annoy you too much and to make you feel comfortable. He made sure to bring you food you need, he would even go in the middle of the night to search if you needed something to eat.

- He doesn’t tell you how insecure he feels about having a baby instead he asks for advice older brother Bjorn because he thinks he has more experience with children.

- When he holds your baby for the first time his eyes actually fill with tears but he wipes them away quickly not wanting you to see them and think that he is weak but actually it is beautiful and adorable!

- Sometimes when you are too tired he would take care of the baby while you rest. To entertain the baby he would make funny faces, tickle it and kiss its cheeks which often caused your baby to squeal and laugh in happiness.

- Hvitserk would be very protective of you and baby. He would always appear beside you when he thinks you two are in danger and would do everything to bring you two back safe.

- When your baby is old enough walk, talk and learn he will start teaching it how to fight. He doesn’t want your child to be helpless so he would start teaching it so it can protect its self if needed.

- He would usually bring your child to the training with his brothers because he wants them to spend some time with their uncles because they can learn many useful things.

- As much as the child grows for him it will always be a baby and no matter how strong it gets he will do anything to protect them.

          /Gif I used doesn’t belong to me. Credit goes to the owners/

[sinewous-blog]

5, 7, 46

5 /  describe your muse’s worst nightmare.

losing memories as a result of being revived by his ghost. each time he forgets what he so much as had for breakfast aegir feels an overwhelming sense of panic. a recurring nightmare, one of the few experiences with dreams he’s had, reaches beyond just his sleep. in it he is simply thrust through life. he begins at his current age, perhaps in his late twenties, there are no faces on those around him. they exist as he does. at times they are at a table, seated, eating. at others he is in bed beside someone. others, he is in a car, a long, lonesome stretch of road ahead. however, no matter the circumstances, prior to awakening his dream-self is surrounded by these figures. just moments before opening his eyes he feels an overwhelming need to reach out towards two figures. though faceless, there is an unavoidable valley formed in his heart when he cannot reach them. while awake, at times, this dream plays out— random pedestrians seeming all too familiar.

7 / what was the most embarrassing moment in your muse’s life?

during one of his many ventures to the ramen shop—- allegedly intoxicated —- he began to complain that cayde-6′s requests had become outlandish. that there was no sense to them, each & every demand seemed to only further his personal needs, which, while aegir respected, was goddamn infuriating. the next day, cayde recited his complaints. for the next month, he could barely make eye-contact.

46 / what is your muse’s first thought upon waking up?

day ( _____ ), still myself.

50 oddly specific headcanon asks. / accepting !

[bluemargotrobbie]

Ivar Ragnasson and Eileen ( negociación por tierras)

[vesuvian-disaster]

5, 16, 27 for all three! - the-iron-orchid

Under the cut, because this is very long and will dominate everyone’s dashboards if I don’t. Enjoy the lore dump. 💖

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Heron:

Heron has an older brother. 

His birth name was Phan Đạt Hào Shrike, but since moving to Prakra and becoming part of his wife’s household he’s changed his name to introduce himself as  Hào Shrike Anand. 

Their relationship is one of people at arms length, but cordial. 

Heron disturbed Shrike when they were children, he didn’t understand his brother and grew to fear and resent him overtime. It wasn’t until they hadn’t seen each other for nearly twenty years and Heron appeared in Prakra to inform him of their parent’s death that their relationship shifted in a more positive direction.

Hjordis:

Hjordis has no full blood siblings. Instead she has about a dozen or so adopted ones who are related in that they are of the same clan. 

I haven’t named them yet, and I’m not here for coming up with like 16 names on the spot, but they all bear the matronyms of Ragnasdottir or Ragnasson.

Her relationships with her siblings as children was very close. They had all lost a lot and held onto each other for a long time to survive the downfall of the clan. 

As they grew they split to find ways to make a living. Some stayed where they’d made a home, other like Hjordis wander as sellswords individually or in small groups. When they find each other they are always happy to see each other though.

Marcus Aquila:

Marcus Aquila is the fourth of six children in the Vesuvian Noble House of Summanus.

The first born is eir brother  Valens Tacitus Summanus. Second and third were twin sisters  Priscilla Iulia and Tullia Liviana Summanus. Then eirself, followed by a set of fraturnal twins Varinia Alba and  Sextus Titus Summanus.

Currently (as in post game) Marcus Aquila has a decent relationship with the two sets of twins. Eir relationship with eir eldest brother is very strained. Due to certain decisions that were made, Marcus Aquila is the head of the Summanus Noble House, and Valens believes his birthright was stolen.

Ey had relatively standard relationships with their siblings during childhood. Relatively friendly with regular spats of mild sibling rivalry and pranks.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Heron:

Heron collects bizarrely themed magical paraphernalia. Tomes with magic tailored to very specific needs, strangely designed foci and tools, such as staves, wands, cauldrons, or ceremonial blades. 

He uses them when he has need of them, and keeps them displayed on shelves in his study when he’s not using them. Occasionally he’ll part with a piece as a gift, if it suits someone else more.

Hjordis:

Hjordis doesn’t have any collections, she moves too often to see the point.

Marcus Aquila:

Marcus Aquila has a large collection of pens. He picks a different one from his collection everyday to use. They are in their own specially designed cabinets in his home.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Heron:

Thinking about his parents, having a relationship fall apart, seeing people suffering needlessly, the usual stuff. He doesn’t cry often and tries to suppress it for the most part. It takes convincing to make him believe it’s alright to actually express his sadness. He’d rather keep it together.

Hjordis:

Very few things make Hjordis actively sad, the most common thing is usually a particularly tragic spirit. She’s not much of a crier, she’s more likely to just get quiet and somber when she’s sad.

Marcus Aquila:

Post-game Marcus Aquila has so much trauma that he’s pushed down a lot of emotion, including sadness. He’s seen so many sad and terrible things that he’s compartmentalized it all for the most part. If he does start to feel sad he mostly just goes off and smokes or drinks. 

[normatural]

Main Masterlist

BJORN IRONSIDE

⤷ a new phase | summary: Bjorn gets the crown and with that comes more responsibilities and goals, to be a better king and father • warnings: none.

⤷ farewell, my love

⤷ i'll be there for you | part 1 / part 2

summary: reader finds her heart falling for Bjorn after her husband left her for christians • warnings: pregnancy.

⤷ i own myself | summary: reader overhears a conversation of Bjorn with his uncle and isn’t the tinniest bit happy about it • warnings: cursing, violence.

⤷ midnight affair | summary: reader is tired of being Bjorn’s midnight secret • warnings: cursing, cheating.

⤷ morning issues | summary: Bjorn and and his best friend end up having to share a bed but it gets really awkward • warnings: cursing.

⤷ ocean talks | summary: Bjorn and reader having a fluff moment after running away from Kattegat • warnings: cursing.

IVAR THE BONELESS

⤷ go to hel | summary: just Ivar teasing his best friend • warnings: none.

⤷ he is gone | summary: reader lost her stepfather but Ivar is there for her • warnings: mention of death

UBBE RAGNASSON

⤷ consequences | summary: reader can’t stay with Ubbe under the conditions set • warnings: angst

⤷ hypnotized | summary: Ubbe is completetly hypnotized by the reader • warnings: none

⤷ the king returns - part 1 / part 2

RAGNAR LOTHBROK

⤷ father, i'm sorry | summary: reader meets her father for a brief moment after he joined the Gods • warnings: none

⤷ thunderstorm | summary: reader and Ragnar having a conversation under a thunderstorm • warnings: none.

[rhabakoli]

Infinite White - 8

The text Fenja translates is the letter Gandalf writes about Aragorn (i think to Frodo? not sure rn), per @finnickfoxes request. And since I am a true dumbass, I actually translated it myself, instead of just look it up. But I like my version better anyway. 

Previous chapters here.

Trigger warning: space talk. Anyone disagreeing with me will be blocked. 

Taglist:@dreamwritesimagines @i-am-always-famished @marauderskeeper @superwolfchild-fan @thescarsweleave @cgn-99 @alicedopey @alwaysadreamingoptimist @atlas-of-the-world @finnickfoxes @rmwest9 (i’m just gonna tag u now, scream if you don’t want to) 

**

“So, how’s his family? Did they suspect anything?”, Maeve asked. They were carrying their trays to their usual table, finally catching up with each others lifes. 

“They are nice. A bit touchy. His uncle asked me if I know UNO, and then he kinda… welcomed me to the family?”, Fenja answered and then shrugged. 

“They have quite a low standard to meet. They’d love you.” Maeve gave her a sour look, kicking at her. “You’re lucky my hands are full.” Her friend just grinned cheekily and dodged her half-assed attack. The mensa was filled with chatter, the sounds of dishes clattering and the occasional discussion escalating. “And did they say anything about your breakdown?” Maeve sat across her, cracking open her coke and taking a sip. “No, I don’t think they know.” Fenja halted, then looked up at her roommate. “Well, I think his mom might know. But she didn’t say anything.” Mave nodded and took a bite from her lunch. “That’s good, isn’t it?” Fenja shrugged, gaze focused on her plate. “As long as I don’t have to explain it to everyone, I’m fine.” “I think your man will be glad to do it for you, if you asked.” Fenja carefully tasted her soup, trying not to burn her tongue. Then, as she processed the words, she raised an eyebrow at Maeve. “Who?” “Ragnar.” “Ah.” She smacked her lips together, blissed out expression on her face. “Goddamn, that soup is delicious.” Suddenly, her spoon came up, pointing across the table, almost threatening. “Also, he’s not ‘my man’, where even did you get that from?” “He’s not?” “Nah.” Maeve shrugged, then ogled the bread on Fenja’s tray. “Can I have some?”

**

The lecture hall was packed, every single seat taken. Some poor souls were even sitting on the stairs, eager to listen in and maybe find some validation, and inspiration - who are we kidding, mainly they just wanted to hear that it would be worth it all and it’d get better. Fenja was sitting all the way up, last row, glad to even have found a seat. Half the literature department was here, some journalism majors too. “I heard she’s only doing this, because her husband is a Ragnarsson. Otherwise she’d never have gotten the spot.” Fenja scoffed, as she pulled out pen and paper, ready to take notes. Unfortunately, her neighbours heard her and turned. “You have something to say, honey?” Her eyes grew round, she twisted in her seat and shook her head. “No, sorry, I just misheard. I thought you said she only got the lecture because her husband’s a Ragnasson.” “Well, I did.” The guy leaned his forearm onto the back of his seat, his body angled towards her, chest puffed like a bird ready to dance. His friend mirrored him, twirling her thick long hair around her finger, smirking. “Which doesn’t make sense, to be honest. She’s been holding lectures and seminars even before she’d met him, so implying she’d need the help of a rich man is not only wrong, but also degrading to her, her achievements and other authors and writers that have made it by themselves.” He wanted to throw another comment in, probably just as entitled and ignorant as his first, when Fenja raised a hand to stop him. “I’m not interested in fumbled comebacks dragged from your misogynistic fathers mouth, so, let’s leave it be, yes?” “Listen, bitch-” “You better think of a new beginning for that sentence, because I can promise you this is not going to end well for you. I know for a fact that the dean is quite the feminist, and he does not tolerate such behaviour at all. I’d pull my head out of my bum, if I were you, because your view on the world is growing a bit old, don’t you think?” He opened and closed his mouth, looked like a fish on the dry, skin flushing. His friend was looking on with big eyes, absolutely shocked anyone would talk to him like that. “You will regret this-” He finally found his voice, anger radiating off him. Fenja sighed. “Listen, you educationally handicapped amoeba. I am not going to regret this, even if it gets me into trouble. Because I know for a fact, while I will have to sit through a serious conversation on properly handling my anger, you’ll have to face an angry dean about the way you view women and I bet you’ll get to go to a couple very educating lectures, which I doubt you’ll get credit for.” They now had enough, they were storming off, the girl tutting over him, while he almost rammed into Ragnar, who took a step to the side and watched them go. “Hey.” He gestured over his shoulder, into the direction the two asshats were fleeing. “What was that?” Fenja shrugged and sat properly, facing forward. Some of the professors were gathered by the podium, talking. She tried to get a good view, but a rather tall professor was in the way. Wait. She knew that back from somewhere. Also, that manbun beat her in UNO just last week. Ragnar sat next to her, typing away on his phone, when she poked him violently. He really felt that, even through the fluffy sweater he wore. Gods, did she have pointy fingers. He hastily grabbed her wrist, holding it so she couldn’t attack him again. “What?” “Is that your Uncle?” He followed her line of sight, chuckling. “Yep.” “What’s he doing here?” “He’s teaching, princess. He’s specialized on Viking history and Nordic religions.” He laughed at her face. Her mouth stood open, eyebrows raised and her breath left her with a silent “oh.” “By the way. Auntie asked me to tell you, that she’s in town all week, and I am supposed to drag you to dinner, so you can meet her.” Now, that really got her attention. “What?” She pointed down to the podium, where a small, dainty woman assumed position and straightened her papers. “You mean that auntie? The amazing, famous author/Journalist?” “Yep.” He’d really get himself bitch-slapped one day, if he continued to play down such important, impactful events. Fenja flailed in her seat, almost falling out of it. “You can’t just - what, I -” Ragnar caught her arm, pulling her back up like it was nothing. “Calm down. How about dinner this friday. Whole family will be there.” “Is that supposed to help me? In any way?”, she asked, her tone suggesting how it definitely did not help. “Bear too.” He grinned at her, chuckling at the speed at which her expression - her whole demeanor, really - shifted. “Okay.”

Down at the podium, Gala cleared her throat and welcomed them, introduced herself and explained why she was holding his lecture. Ragnar knew all of this, he had only come up here to deliver his aunts message. But Fenja was so cute, all attentive, eager to soak up whatever knowledge his aunt decided to share. How she sat there, focused, scribbling down notes and questions for later. She did it on seperate sheets, organized and thought-out. He watched her profile, let his eyes roam over her figure, how she was wrapped into a hoodie at least two sizes too big, how she had a foot up on the seat, and an arm wrapped around her knee, leaning into it. How she ran the flat of her thumb’s nail over her lower lip, - left, right, left again - lips slightly parted. He licked his lips, swallowing and then promptly snapped himself out of it. Shaking his head over his creepy staring and suddenly, uh… not-friendly mood, he turned to watch Gala talk about the struggles of writing, writer’s block and solutions that helped in her experience. The lecture took about an hour, with a Q&A session added. Here too, Fenja listened closely, checking questions already answered and noting them down. Ragnar caught himself staring again. He always had felt the need to kinda protect her, keep her close, in his arms, but- oh boy. Oooooh. He leaned back against the chair, crossed his arms and stubbornly stared ahead, until his aunt excused them and everyone was leaving. He’d have to talk to someone about this. Crap. Someone help him. He must have made a sound, because Fenja looked over, concern on her face. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah, I’m good.”

** “Okay, so, I’ve got some examples I need you to translate, please.”  Ingrid laid down papers in front of Fenja and sat. “We’re gonna implement this in the program, we need to get clear on pronunciation and grammar and stuff.”  Fenja looked down at the paper, then back at Ingrid. “That’s your example?”  “Yep.” This whole family, for real.   “Uh, you’re not gonna get accurate, actually used German that way, right?” It’s from Lord Of The Rings. The hell.  “It’s not about that, it’s just an example, a start. It’s about the words, not what it means in context.”  She nodded, then held her hand out for a pen. “You want me to do it on paper?”” Now it was Ingrids turn to shrug. “However you’d like, doesn’t make a big difference.”

It didn’t take Fenja too long to translate it, even when using old German, plush and polished words, to keep the feeling of the original. She caught Ingrid’s attention, as she put her pen down and leaned back in her chair. They were seated in the Ragnarsson library, spread all over the place with school stuff, research, Fenja’s papers for her essays and Ingrid’s paperwork for the Linguae Populi. “You wanna read it?”, the girl asked, and promptly put her chin into her hands, abandoning her work.  “Sure.” Fenja cleared her throat and took a deep breath.   In a sure, but soft tone, she read aloud:

“Nicht alles das Gold, funkelt; Nicht alle die wandern, verloren; Alt und stark nicht verdunkelt; Wurzeln in Tiefe nicht erfroren; Feuer aus Asche entsteht, wie Licht entspringt dem Schatten; Soll zerbarste Klinge nun heilen, Krone wieder auf Königs Haupte weilen.”

Fenja felt slightly uncomfortable under Ingrid's attentive gaze; she raked her fingers through her hair and looked down at the paper. “It's probably not perfect, and certainly not even close to the original translation, but I tried.” The girl stopped her immediately, waving a hand through the air and shaking her head adamantly. “no I'm sure it's absolutely fine.” “Sounded fine to me.”, Came from the door. “Dad!” Ingrid uncurled her legs, bound over to her father like a puppy and dove into his arms for a big old hug. “I didn't know you'd be home today! I thought you had a work trip to Ontario?” Ivar stroked his daughter's head as he looked down at her. “I sent your Uncle instead. Gala has some business there, so he'd have gone there anyway.” Piercing blue eyes fixed Fenja ij her seat, while Ingrid took her fathers free arm and pulled him over. “You speak german?” Fenja nodded, intimidated and shy. “My family came over during the war, and they never let anyone lose touch to their roots. They expect you to be fluent in german.” Ingrid pulled the paper with the translation over and showed him. “That's from Lord of the rings. She's a nerd.” “Then you must like her, no? Two peas in a pod?” He grinned playfully, his calm exterior and the way he bantered with his kid, put her at ease. He wasn't bad, in any way. He was just so… tall, and broad, and had this very hard and cold aura, if he wanted to. They talked for a while. Ivar asked her more about her family, if they came before the war, or if they lived through the harsh times there. Fenja tried to answer, even taught him a couple of words and phrases when he asked for it. Turns out, the big bad Ivar Ragnarsson was a very curious and eager-to-please puppy dog. Now it was obvious, where this part of Ragnar came from. Those two were so much alike.

**

Ragnar was minding his own business, concentrating on his work, as a body fell into the spot next to his and a phone was shoved into his face. “LOOK AT THIS!” He did. “What am I looking at?” Fenja grinned, eyes alight with excitement, her whole body vibrating with restless energy. “That's a photograph of a black hole!” She sounded so proud, you'd think she made it. Without having to prompt her, she started into an extended rant, explaining how and when, how big it was (very), and how she really wanted to go visit it (so damn much), and how it looked like Sauron’s eye (It really did, wow), and ‘what if there is some kind of alternate universe where hobbits exist and the black hole is actually a way to go there, or to look into other universes?!’ “You want to visit a black hole.” “Yep.” “You think it’s a way to an alternate Hobbit universe?” “Yep.” Ragnars eyes were skipping over her face, taking in the scrunched nose as she smiled, the tousled hair from her run over, the healthy color of her face, the twinkle in her eyes. She was so cute, this excited. So open, so warm. It was a glimpse of how she could have been, if her parents had survived; she'd be way less inclined to shut others out. He also noticed how close she was. Her arm was wrapped around his biceps, her front pressed into his side as she leaned against him, essentially hugging his arm, while she was still holding the phone up, her elbow on the desk in front of him, his forearm trapped under hers. “You’re crazy.”, he shook his head.  “That’s my best personality trait, that are you talking about?” “But I’m coming with you. No way you’re gonna survive there. Either you’ll eat yourself to death, or you set one foot there and collide with some monster.”  “It’s settled then.” She let go of his arm, laid her own arms and head on the table, face towards him. “Now the only things left are contact with aliens and society’s realization regarding Pluto’s wrong degradation from planet status.”  Ragnar knew better than to dive into that discussion. She was very passionate about space. Instead, he plucked a hair hanging from her lashes.  “But what if there are no aliens?”  Okay, he was weak. Don’t judge.  Fenja groaned, but didn’t move much. “People who honestly believe that we are the only ones out there, are either very stupid, ignorant, or just plain scared. I can respect scared cucumbers, because that means on some level at least they agree that we can’t be alone, that’s just not logical.”

They fell into a comfortable pattern, Fenja ranting, Ragnar working. Sometimes it was the other way around, sometimes it was almost completely silent between the two of them. It was like a bubble, a safe haven on campus. Other students usually tended to avoid the two of them, because rants could happen just about any time, and those two got really passionate, including flailing arms and sometimes even thrown pens. So, their table was a corner-table, but other than them, there were no others in close vicinity. 

No one wanted to be part of… whatever they had.

**

Part 9

[popcorn1989]

15: You can't be serious

Characters: Ivar and Brothers

Warning: Blood, Bad Words

Words: 2003

Look here for the related short stories or for other stories: Here

Ivar sat on a sawed-off tree trunk and watched as Hvitserk and Sigurd fought a duel, with branches. Unfortunately, nothing really exciting had happened so far. Here and there Hvitserk had hit Sigurd, but he had always been very careful. Even Sigurd was careful too, whenever he managed to push Hvitserk away, he would lower the branch after a few minutes and laugh "I win, brother" he always says then. Hvistserk then always looked at Ivar, but he would just shrug his shoulders. - Just hit him right - he always thought to himself, but his brother couldn't read minds. Ubba came up to him and knelt down, fiddling with his shoes and putting them on properly. Ivar was a bit puzzled by this, but if something didn't fit his brother, he had to fix it, it was such a quirk of his.

But just at that moment Sigurd turned in an attack on Hvitserk and saw it, he stopped and raised his arms. Hvitserk was so fast that he could not block his blow and hit him on the back. "Ouch," cried Sigurd, looking at Hvitserk with an angry look. "Don't be like that, it's just branches," said Hvisterk and lifting his branch. "Yes, but it still hurts, you donkey," he shouted and snatched the branch from his hand. He tried to hit him with it, but Hvitserk dodged it and laughed. "Guys, what are you doing?" Ubba spoke and was now fiddling with Ivar's pants. "Awww, brother, I didn't know what you could do with your hands like that" spoke Ivar as he ducked to avoid Ubba's blow to the head, but he still hit and they both started laughing. "I don't understand it, Ubba" spoke Sigurd and threw Hvitserk's branch on the ground. "What don't you understand?" spoke Ubba, but he didn't look at him because he was judging, the vest of Ivar.

"What's that?" - "What?" - "That thing you're doing?" Ubba looked up and stroked Ivar's head, "I'm just taking care of my brother" he spoke and grinned at Ivar. He smiled at his brother as well, he loved it when Sigurd gets jealous and over little things like this. "As soon as he crawls again, everything is crazy again, it's no use at all" - "Then I'll do it again" Ubba spoke and frowned "What's wrong with you today?" asked Ubba and put his hands in front of his hips in folds, he slightly raised his head to give expression to his question. "He wanted to be with the slave today, but mother forbade it" spoke Hvitserk, who had moved away from Sigurd and was relieving himself by a bush. "Ah, that says it all" Ubba grinning broadly. Ivar didn't understand a word, not that he couldn't follow the conversation, he didn't understand what it had to do with him. But with Sigurd there was never really any reason for that.

Sigurd picked up the branch and threw it to Ivar, he caught it and looked questioningly at him. Hvisterk wiped his hands on his pants and looked from one to the other. "Weren't we going hunting?" Sigurd shook his head. "Of course! Leave Ivar alone" He walked up to his angry brother and was about to reach for the branch in his hand when Sigurd struck. Hvitserk staggered backwards and held his forehead, "Have you gone completely mad now?" yelled Ubba and ran to his injured brother. Sigurd looked a bit startled when he realized what he had done. "Are you okay? Hvitserk is everything okay?" asked Ivar worriedly.

He threw the branch aside and dropped from the tree trunk and crawled to his brother, he put a hand on his shoe, when he looked up, a drop of blood fell into his face. He let go of the shoe and wiped, the drop of blood from his face and looked at his finger. Ivar didn't know how, but his anger was instant, he formed a fist and sat up. "Come here, you bastard. You goat, you stupid piece of shit!" screamed Ivar at the top of his lungs. He watched with pleasure as Sigurd's face turned red with rage. But he was stopped by Ubba, who wanted to take care of Hvitserk. The latter had sat down behind Ivar. Ivar licked his teeth, ready to fight. "Don't do that, we're not on the training ground here" he spoke quietly to Sigurd, "Anyone could come by and see it, or mother. Think what she would do if you give Ivar even the slightest scratch" - "That's exactly what I mean" Sigurd spoke, keeping eye contact with the evil grinning Ivar. Ubba now whispered to Sigurd so softly that Ivar didn't understand, he's narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Let it go, Ivar, it's just a little scratch" Hvitserk spoke behind him, he turned around and saw his brother still holding his forehead, he had his head on his chest and didn't look up. - No, I can see it still hurts you - Ivar thought to himself and his anger, like a heated iron, came back to him. "But I won't be insulted" Sigurd now spoke loudly and looked at Ivar again "Not by a cripple, someone who can't even get his own dick up" Ivar spat in his direction, his spit, stuck to Sigurd's top and made its way down. Ubba looked at Ivar with a - You're serious? - look, and had to brace himself against Sigurd as he tried to attack Ivar. "Leave it" Ubba spoke loudly and pushed his brother backwards a little bit. Ivar started laughing, but Ubba looked at him again with that look, but he was just having too much fun teasing his brother. "Leave it, go inside, do your favorite thing" - "Yes Sigurd, go inside and jerk off, no one would touch you voluntarily" Ivar spoke and laughed. "At least I can, unlike you, you, impotent cripple".

Ivar wouldn't have thought it, but he got angrier and looked around, he grabbed a stone near him and was about to throw it, when Hvitserk's bloody hand closed around the stone. "Leave it, think of our plan" he whispered to Ivar, he looked into the bloody face, of his brother, he turned around and without thinking he shouted "YOU WILL BURN" he looked into the face of Ubba who had placed himself in front of Sigurd. He raised his eyebrows and only briefly raised his hands.

Sigurd took a step to the side and looked at him in disbelief, there was a long uncomfortable silence, only the birds dared to be loud. Ivar looked to the ground and heard Hvitserk breathing heavily behind him, as if shocked, then he stood up. "I... I'm going to see mother, so she can take care of my wound...so.... I'll be off" he only spoke and left. Ivar looked after him, his brother shook his head and threw the stone he had taken from him on the ground, Ubba came up to him and squatted in front of him "You can't be serious" he shook his head gently "What did I do to you?"

Ivar was confused for a moment, he frowned and shook his head, pointing at Sigurd "I mean that bastard there" he spoke angrily. He saw Sigurd, holding the branch in his hands, tighten his grip and his nostrils go up and down. "Try it you leg loose donkey" he spoke, grinning widely. "You can't even walk, so how are you going to kill me?" - "I just told you" Ivar spoke and gritted his teeth "Hey, enough now" Ubba yelled and stood up "Cut it out, no one is killing anyone here, is that clear!" he looked from Sigurd to Ivar "Is that clear?"  Ivar put his head to the left and right and pulled up his nose, he nodded very slightly. "No one will be burned" he grabbed Ivar, by the back of his head "No one, is that clear" Ivar looked into the blue eyes of Ubba "Or do I have to tell mother that her own sons want to kill themselves?" Ivar shook his head, he didn't feel like having a conversation with mother.

"Leave those statements Ivar" Ubba spoke in a low and serious tone, but did not let go of him "If I hear something like that from you again, I can be quite different" again Ivar nodded "Leave him alone, all he can do is swear and make threats, what else is he going to do all day" Ubba let go of Ivar turned to Sigurd and pointed his finger at him "And you stop insulting him and going on and on like this. Go and see Hvitserk, see what you have done to your brother" he spoke angrily, Ivar saw the color drain from Sigurd's face. "Tell mother what you did, apologize for it" - Again he does - Ivar thought to himself - Again he tries to keep us together -

Ivar started to grin when he saw Sigurd looking intimidated to the ground, "Let's call off the hunt. I don't feel like doing anything with you anymore" Ubba spoke, slowly moving away. Ivar looked at Sigurd and pointed at him, then with his hands he pictured a fire. He grinned wickedly as he pointed at Sigurd again, he saw his brother's face change abruptly, he ran up to Ivar and hit him with the branch. Sigurd hit him on the head, just like Hvitserk, and he fell to the side. He held his forehead as he lay on his back, then he felt a blow in the pit of his stomach.

He looked at Sigurd who had thrown the branch aside, he was now sitting on one knee next to him and his raised fist, rushed down, right into his face. He cried out as the pain went through his lower jaw, Ubba turned at the cry and ran towards the two. He grabbed Sigurd's wrist and shoved him off of Ivar. "Are you out of your mind?" he yelled, stepping over Ivar and shoving Sigurd again, "What did I just tell you?" the loud voice of Ubba, made Sigurd grow small. Ubba stood so close to him that their faces touched.

Ivar sat up, wiped his bleeding forehead and smiled, this time it wasn't him who was yelled at by Ubba. "He provoked it" Sigurd spoke quietly, "I don't give a shit. Don't react to it" Ubba's voice was now calm but low, a sign that he was ready to fight "He wants to kill me" Sigurd really tried everything to explain his action. "If you don't go in right now, I'll beat the crap out of you" Sigurd didn't have to be asked twice. He walked past Ivar, but he did not look at him again. Ubba, on the other hand, looked at Ivar angrily.

Ivar's grin vanished instantly, and he looked down at his hands as Ubba approached him. "Same thing every time. Your shit makes me sick," he spoke, Ivar looked up, "Do you need a healer?" Ubba was so fast in front of him that Ivar flinched briefly, he grabbed the injured chin and squeezed. "Pull yourself together, you're not a little kid anymore," he let go of the chin with a jerk, causing Ivar's head to fly to the side for a moment. "I was in the right, Ubba". - "And so what, stop your threats" Ubba's voice was so low that a brief shiver ran down Ivar's spine as he watched Ragnar come out of the great hall.

He watched as Ubba walked past his father, he shook his head before looking back at Ivar one more time, then he disappeared. Ivar sat quietly, his forehead bloody, thinking hard about how he could take revenge on Sigurd without feeling Ubba's wrath. Ragnar, picked up a small stick and stopped by him and then grinned, pointing the stick at Ivar face "Did you fight with the frog?" Ivar narrowed his eyes in disbelief and looked after his father as he stalked off.    

End

[whenimaunicorn]

Glass Heart - Part One

Ubbe x Reader

Words: 1201

Notes: slow burn, playful sweetness and misunderstandings, not likely to end up with anything in need of a trigger warning. Eventual smut, not in this part. My mental state is such that I just needed to start a project that was nice, cute, and comforting.

THUNK

The blade lands in the wood of your shield again, the impact ringing down your arm, rattling your chest and making your skull shudder unsettlingly against your neckbones. It sends a fresh jolt through your already-ringing headache, but the jarring strike is exactly what you want; your assailant’s blade is now stuck in the dense oak of your shield.

Your tired throat screeches out a battle cry as you step into the taller man’s frame, twisting your shield with a savage jerk as you attempt to disarm him and knock him over in the same movement.

His feet dance away and his large hand lands heavily on your shoulder.

“Almost. You almost had me that time, Y/N,” Ubbe says, voice ragged with exertion but still attempting to be encouraging. His fingers close around the bones of your shoulder, shaking you just a little as he leans in to catch you with his sparkling eyes. “Again.”

You drop the edge of the shield to the ground of the training yard, wavering just a little on your feet. “I am almost exhausted, and I can barely feel my arm.” You don’t like to complain, but you can feel your limit approaching. Tears are stinging at the back of your eyes, and you turn your head so that the prince you admire so much will not see. “If I could not pull off this maneuver when my strength was full, surely it will be impossible by now.” You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been drilling the move with Ubbe tonight, and you haven’t successfully knocked him down once.

Ubbe’s eyes, kind yet challenging, chase your gaze. “If you want to fight in the shield wall, you will have to lift that arm until someone disconnects it from your body.” His eyes flick across your shoulders and down your legs, softening with something that looks like appreciation. “I know you have more strength left in you. Again.” He presses one boot to the edge of your shield so he can rip his sword out of the wood. Then he steps back and brandishes it playfully, like he’s not almost as tired as you are.

Ubbe’s grin is infectious and you find yourself smiling back, or at least gritting your teeth at him, as you lift the great shield up to the ready once more. You ignore the screaming of your muscles as you hoist the weight. Your prince is right; you will have to push harder than this in battle. This is why he drills you every evening, until tears leak from the corners of your eyes and the weapons fall numb from your stiffened fingers.

You’ve been too afraid to ask why your prince has taken you aside for these private lessons; you know what you want his reason to be but you fear the disappointment if you are wrong more than you fear falling in battle. So you never ask. And every evening, the two of you train like this, eyes locked and teeth clenched.

With a sudden shout Ubbe raises his sword and shifts his weight to come at you again. Even feigning his battlefield ferocity he is impressive, intimidating even after repeating the same move dozens of times. His patience impresses you too; no matter how many repeats of this maneuver he acts like he’s not expecting it, as your Saxon opponents won’t be. Where the sword should glance off the wooden board you twist at the last moment, absorbing another screaming impact in your shoulder as you make sure the blade lodges in the wood.

This time, you recover from the painful shock quickly enough to step in and jerk the shield while Ubbe’s grip is still on the hilt, while his stomach is close enough to contact with the lower rim as you throw your weight into knocking him off of his feet.

You almost can’t believe you’ve finally done it, as you stare down at the winded Ragnasson sprawled on the ground at your feet. In a real battle you’ve have been done for, standing there struggling to think, but Ubbe stays flat on his back and counterattacks only with his wide grin.

You hear yourself giggle and you toss the shield aside, then collapse on the soft ground beside him. It’s over. You did it. 

You splay your arms out and the back of your hand lands in Ubbe’s palm. You know you should pull away, but you don’t. You’ll blame the exhaustion in your shield arm if he says anything.

But he doesn’t. Ubbe’s hand twitches once like he might withdraw, then his fingers close decisively around yours instead. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and shift, twisting your arm so your hands can line up better. Ubbe presses his warm palm against yours, squeezing your fingers with a comforting strength.

“I told you that you could do it,” he says. You are still looking at the sky, pretending this intimate touch isn’t happening, but you can tell that the prince has turned his face toward yours.

“After more than a dozen tries,” you say just a little bitterly. You keep your eyes on the clouds. If you make eye contact while you are holding hands, someone might have to admit something, and you aren’t ready for that yet.

“And next time you will succeed after only a tries,” he says solemnly. His thumb is tracing the back of your hand. “And soon you will be able to do it in your sleep.”

“So now you’re making me train even in bed?” You realize what you’ve implied almost as soon as you’ve said it, and your cheeks redden as you become aware of every inch of skin touching your prince’s as his grip spasms slightly against yours.

“That… could be…” he stutturs.

Now you’ve knocked the mighty Prince Ubbe off balance for the second time in the same evening. You should be enjoying it but your cheeks are only flushing an even darker crimson and you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I should be getting back,” you choke out, starting to sit up. Your hand doesn’t seem to want to let his go, but the rest of your body is already getting ready to stand.

You stare dumbly at your interwoven fingers, his rough hand making yours look so small. Ubbe says your name softly but you can’t think through the rushing sound in your ears. There must be some mistake, you think. Ubbe would never be interested in a girl like you.

You tear your reluctant fingers from his grip and rush to carry the shield back to the stand at the edge of the training yard. “I will see you at training tomorrow, yes?” you call as you all but run from the man.

“Of course,” you hear him answer, a bit forlornly.

You risk one glance back at Ubbe in your hasty retreat. He is standing tall and still, holding himself with care like he’s trying not to spook a large animal. His eyes are still so kind, though now you’ve muddled their usual clarity with surprise, confusion. But you can’t seem to stop your feet from carrying you away.

Comment on Ao3 if you like

Continue to Part Two...

[brightlycoloredteacups]

So...

Got noticed by two of the Ragnassons today...wondering if I can summon @halfdan-the-black to talk to me. 

[ao3feed-vikings]

A Heart Can Only Be Broken Once

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2iVDusb

by Twentyonellamas

Summary: Um… I’m so bad at these. Basically, Ivar is an impatient lil’ shit, OC character gets raped, but before Ivar finds out, he makes it a lot worse for the both of them due to misunderstandings and lack of communication. Could be a part two if people want it.

Words: 3800, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Vikings (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/M

Characters: Ivar, Ivar The Boneless, Ubbe, Ivar Ragnasson, OC - Character

Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar/Ubbe (Vikings)/You

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2iVDusb

[popcorn1989]

6: I train you, Brother

Characters: Ivar and Brothers

Warning: Blood

Words: 2116

Look here for the related short stories or for other stories: Here

He was staring at the red blossom on the bark of the great tree, that Ubba had fixed there, his right hand had drawn the bowstring and his arm was beginning to vibrate slowly, from being lost in thought. Ivar narrowed his eyes, because it seemed to him, that the flower was beginning to dance in front of his eyes. The clash of swords could be heard behind him, Sigurd and Hvitserk engaged in a duel. The loud clang of metal made his concentration dwindle more and more.

He only cared if Hvitserk would score and soon hear a scream from Sigurd. "Ivar, keep your elbow higher," said Ubba, who was standing next to him, probably having lost patience and unable to remain silent any longer. He had watched Ivar to make sure, he was holding the bow correctly and waited for Ivar to finally let go of the arrow. Ivar shook his head briefly to clear his thoughts. "You're not in it," said Ubba, raising his right elbow a little. He walked around Ivar and looked over his shoulder. "Not like that," he said, and when he was on the other side he moved the bow, slightly to the right. "You would have completely missed your target."

Ivar lowered the bow and looked at Ubba with his blue eyes, "If you wouldn't intervene all the time, I would have hit the target long ago" - "I was waiting for you to shoot the whole time, but when you aimed, not much happened after that, except you stare at your target, your arm gets tired and starts to tremble, it's just a flower, nothing can happen" - Ubba looked at the other two, who had stopped dueling and grinned easy. Ivar, not knowing what was going on behind his back, imagining the grimaces of his other brothers, only shook his head slightly: "Leave him alone, maybe today is not his day," said Hvitserk, appearing next to Ivar and took the bow and arrow from him, without asking and aimed at the flower, the arrow flew fast and pierced the red flower and bark so hard it got caught on the bark.

He grinned at Ivar and went to the tree to get the arrow. Ivar cocked his head, braggart - he thought to himself, when he heard Sigurd's voice, "We shouldn't have taken him with us. What should he learn, he's just a cripple," said Sigurd. Ivar watched Hvitserk before looking around for the first time. He was jealous of his brothers, they really had set up a nice practice site here, and he was only allowed to be here now. "He's our brother, he might not be like you, Sigurd. But he is strong and can still learn a lot” - “I don't think running is part of it, is it?” said Sigurd and walked away from them, laughing. Ivar saw Ubba grimace and pinch Ivar's shoulder as he walked behind his brother.

Hvitserk had just turned and was walking towards Ivar to hand the bow back to him, but he paused for a moment at Sigurd's statement. He gave Ivar that sympathetic look again. Before he went to Ivar and gave him back his bow and arrow. "Don't worry, Ivar. He's an idiot and always will be," said Hvitserk, who watches as Ivar turns around on the fallen log he was sitting on to face his other brothers. The two were now standing a little further away and arguing a bit, but they were too far away to hear it. But both turned to him and Hvitserk from time to time. Ivar's face hardened, but Hvitserk put a hand on his shoulder and sat spread-legged on the log to face Ivar.

"I know, you would hit the target, you just have to focus. Which one of us is the best at flipping coins? You always hit the bucket of water, but we didn't. And you even surpassed Floki, and he's the best in the whole village" Ivar looked from Sigurd to Hvitserk and grinned, "You mean, I'm the best in the village now" His brother started to grin widely and his eyes sparkled. "Yes, you are the best." Of all his brothers, Ivar liked Hvitserk the most, he always made him feel loved no matter how he was. But then, Ivar saw the hateful face of Sigurd, who was about to open the drinking pouch. Ivar grinned wickedly and before Hvitserk could react, he pulled on the bowstring and the arrow flew, the drinking pouch exploding in Sigurd's face and the arrow getting stuck in a tree nearby.

Sigurd and Ubba dodged at the same time, Hvitserk had tried so hard to stop him, but he wasn't fast enough, he was lying on Ivar's lap, had snatched the bow from his hand and looked at his brothers, in shock. "Are you crazy?" Sigurd screamed and drew his sword, that was hanging from his belt, but he was grabbed by the arm from Ubba. What amazed Ivar even more was, that Hvitserk had jumped up and grabbed the sword, he had been leaning against the tree log before and was now standing protectively in front of Ivar. He couldn't help a wicked grin as his brothers defended him. "Well done, Ivar," Hvitserk said, grinning at Sigurd's wet and angry face. Ubba couldn't help but laugh and gave Ivar a respectful nod. "When you said, you wanted to practice, were you lying or not, little brother?" Ivar nodded, briefly the exercises with Floki appeared in front of his eyes. "Oh, do what you want," said Sigurd angrily and threw the sword on the ground in front of him and wiped his face with his hand.

"Can't you take any more jokes?" Ivar asked, licking his lips before grinning. "I'm not going to teach him anything. Why should I, he will never stand and fight on a battlefield, he will suckle at mother's breast like a toddler.” Ivar's grin faded, and he was about to say something nasty, when Ubba raised his hand. "You don't have to do anything, Sigurd, you don't have to be here either. You can go home and make music like the washerwomen.” Now Sigurd looked at Ubba angrily, he took a few steps towards him and for a brief moment you could feel the anger on your skin, that filled the air. Ubba was older, stronger, and none of the brothers had dared to mess with him before. But Ivar was so excited, he couldn't even sit still. He even slapped Hvitserk on the hip to make him take a few steps to the side, so he could see better. But he was disappointed, when Sigurd just walked past Ubba and grazed him with his shoulder. It wasn't long before Sigurd galloped away, on his white stallion.

"So what do we do now?" Ubba asked the group. "I will train him," Hvitserk said, picking up Sigurd's sword. He gave it to Ivar, who took it proudly but inside, he was a bit scared, he had told Ubba, that he had practice with the sword but that was a lie. Floki had only taught him ax throwing and archery, yes defense with an ax or a dagger, but that was very different from a sword. He weighed the sword in his hand and was amazed, how heavy it was. He glanced at the blade's reflective surface as he saw Hvitserk's reflection in it, only because of that, he was able to react quickly. Ivar looked up and threw himself from the tree log as Hvitserk attacked him with a right sword swing. The point of the sword caught his upper arm before he hit the ground. Ivar looked up startled and Hvitserk, who also looked at him startled too. "I… I didn't want that. I thought...' He looked at Ubba, who was standing there just as startled, and slowly walked towards Ivar. "I thought...I thought you learned that."

Ivar sat up and studied Hvitserk's face before glancing at Ubba, who was anxiously examining his bleeding wound. At the sight of the two, he had to laugh. "It's not funny, it could have ended very badly! You shouldn't have lied,” Ubba said seriously, pulling him closer to emphasize his point, but Ivar just kept laughing. "Do you think, we wouldn't have taken you if you were telling the truth?" Ubba asked and released him again, his wide eyes looking at the laughing Ivar, who was sitting there, arm bleeding, laughing like a madman. His face changed to a worried one as he looked at Hvitserk. He, too, came closer and put a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "I'll train you, brother," he said, now grinning too at the sight of Ivar, who had stopped laughing and was now grinning at him. Ivar looked from Hvitserk to Ubba, who was still struggling with his wound. "Oh, stop it, it's nothing. And instead of worrying, you could praise me." Ubba looked up from his wound and narrowed his eyes. "Please what? Praise? For almost losing an arm?”

Ivar raised an eyebrow and grinned widely. "No, give me credit for dodging so well," he said, now grinning at Hvitserk, who turned and made an annoyed noise. "Let's train, brother! I'll be better than you soon.” Ivar said and waited for an answer from him. Ubba exhaled deeply as he stood up and put his hands on his hips: "It's a long day. But let me see your wound first....." - "No, that's nothing. A little scratch, Hvitserk has a really pathetic punch, like a woman,” Ivar said, watching Hvitserk closely with his blue eyes. He knew if he really wanted to train, he had to be prepared for anything with his brothers. "I won't spare you," Hvitserk said, turning to him with a grin. "I hope so," Ivar said quietly.

As the day drew to a close, Ivar was sweating and out of breath, but he watched Hvitserk slink back and forth in front of him. He glanced at Ubba, who was lying on the ground, eating an apple, his eyes turned to the sky, and he moved his head oddly, as if hearing a melody in his mind. "So Ivar, now it's getting serious, I think I've taught you enough," Hvitserk said, also out of breath, but he still had more strength than Ivar and that annoyed him. At his words, Ubba sat up and watched the two.

Hvitserk grimaced and swiped at Ivar like the last time he hit him. He could see it to his right and was able to parry, Hvitserk's sword slamming into his sword, which felt better in his hand now. Hvitserk took a step back and made a movement from above, his sword crashing into Ivar's sword he was holding in front of him. The point of the sword caught Ivar's cheek, leaving a small scratch. His brother looked at him briefly in surprise, but Ivar just grinned and knocked Hvitserk's sword aside, now holding his sword to his neck. Ubba narrowed his eyes. Hvitserk bit his bottom lip as he took a step back and grinned, then attacked again, left-right punches without mercy, but Ivar was able to parry those too and waited for the right moment. When Hvitserk got close enough, he grabbed his arm and Ivar had no trouble turning him around. As he did so, he dropped his sword, drew the small knife, he wore on his belt, and put it at his brother's throat.

"I win," he said in Hvitserk's ear and grinned. "Good, played Ivar. I have to hand it to you, that was quick and sneaky,” Hvitserk said and laughed. Ivar grinned evilly and let go of his brother, who moved away from him and massaged his arm. Ivar was about to put the knife away, when something hard and wet hit his head. He saw the bitten apple fall to the ground, and his eyes fell on Ubba, who had stood up. "Not really played fair, but smart, I have to admit," he said, smiling. "Enough for today, let's go" - "Next time, will you take me with you again? Or am I no longer allowed if Sigurd wants to come with you?” asked Ivar and put the knife away. "Sigurd calms down, you know him," said Ubba as he approached him. "You're a fast learner, and I see no reason, why you can't come along." Ivar was smiling too now, feeling like he belonged for the first time in his life. "Besides, how am I supposed to train you if you're not with me?" Hvitserk asked, already packing things up. He turned to Ivar and raised his eyebrows.

End

(I write, when i have time)

[popcorn1989]

3: Now I know it

Characters: Ivar und Sigurd

Warning: Betrayal, Bad Words, Water, Shortness of Breath

Words: 1985

Look here for the related short stories or for other stories: Here

"Hey, Ivar" it came from a boat, Ivar had just arrived at the port, he wanted to watch the ships go. His father wanted to travel to new countries again, He want to Wish him Good Luck. But now he searched the boats with his blue eyes. He had recognized his brother Sigurd's voice, but could not find him. "Here you blind cripple," Sigurd called, jumping off a small boat near the jetty. Ivar grimaced briefly when he heard the insult, but he vowed not to react to it today. He crawled over to his brother, leaned against the boat and tapped the wood. "Nice boat, where are you going?" he asked, looking at the other three boys, who were loading the boat and getting it ready. "We want to go fishing, mother said we should all learn it" - "Ah, poor Sigurd, then you can't play your instrument at all and what are women supposed to do, without your music, which sounds like you would a cat peel off the fur.”

Ivar grinned when he saw that he had hit his brother, with his words, he didn't want to do it today, yes, but he couldn't help it either, after all Sigurd had started it. Sigurd came up to him and grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, Ivar was pulled well away from the boat, his greaves digging slightly into the wet sand. But Ivar just laughed in his brother's face. "You'll lose your laughter, little brother," Sigurd said through clenched teeth and looked briefly at the boat before his eyes met Ivar's again. "Do you want to come with me?", he asked, happily played and let him go. Ivar knew that Sigurd was only nice to him, when he was up to something, but being on a boat, even if it was just a small fishing boat, filled him with curiosity. "You want to take me with you?" - "Of course, you're my little brother" - "That's a trick" - "Where are you thinking Ivar?" asked Sigurd and threw a fishing net into the boat. He came up to Ivar and squatted down in front of him, "Come on, or are you scared?" - "I'm not scared" Ivar said and tried as best he could to hide his fear of the water.

He was always afraid of falling in the water, he would sink like a stone, and he knew it. Sigurd grinned as Ivar averted his gaze from the gentle swell of the water and looked at him again. "Come on, I'm with you and nothing will happen to you." That's what scared Ivar, he wasn't afraid of his brother, but he also knew that Sigurd would embarrass him wherever he could. "Or are you not a real man? Can't even sit on a boat? Let alone lie with a woman and...." - "Shut up, that's a lie..." Ivar screamed, his blue eyes blazing with anger and when he looked around briefly, he noticed that many eyes were on him. Sigurd's friends just laughed and Sigurd raised his hands, "Then prove it to me, come with me." Ivar looked around again for a moment, but everyone continued on their way, nobody seemed to be surprised about the two brothers anymore.

Ivar took a deep breath, he didn't want to, he was too scared, but he couldn't let it sit on him either. "What are we waiting for then?", he said and saw the smug grin on Sigurd's face, who now looked at his friends "Then, bring him in, my friends" he said and pointed to Ivar "I can do it alone" he said proudly, crawled to the boat and heaved himself over, he landed roughly and not really gracefully in the boat, and he got quite a bit of laughter from the other boys too. But Sigurd, Sigurd, just looked at him with a look that Ivar couldn't place. "This is Kjell, Hamar and Ole, maybe you know the three, yes," he said and picked up a fishing net and wrapped it up. Two of the boys Ivar didn't know got out and pushed the small boat onto the water. The boat rocked as it hit the water, and the two boys jumped in.

Ivar no longer paid any attention to his brother, he unconsciously clung to the wood and looked at the water crashing against the boat. "Maybe we'll catch a big fish today" - "Yes, a stinky one" the boys started talking and laughing, but Ivar was deep in his thoughts. "You are not like all Ivar, you are better" - "But I also want to explore new lands one day, with my own ships" - "You can Ivar, but remember that you will never swim, you can't learn either, you need your legs for that" His mother's face appeared on the surface of the water for a brief moment "You'll do something much bigger for that, my son" - "And what's it, mom?" - "I'll tell you, when you are bigger my little darling and now go to sleep”, the image of Aslaug disappeared, and he was startled from his thoughts, when the boat started to sway wildly and the water splashed on his face.

Ivar saw to his brother, who was standing on one side of the boat and one of his friends on the other, they were jumping up and down and rocking the boat on purpose, while looking at him and laughing nastily. "What are you doing, brother," he yelled, and now his body went into total spasm as he tried to hold on to the wood. Some water spilled over and soaked his clothes. "What is Ivar? we're just kidding, nothing can happen" Sigurd laughed and yelled at the same time. Ivar couldn't look up anymore, he only looked at his knees and hoped that it would soon be over. "Look Ivar, how far out we are, there is nobody here, nobody who can help you." Ivar took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together, not to give in to fear. "No Aslaug, no Floki, no Ubba, nobody, just me and my friends, look Ivar look."

Ivar became nauseous, his face turned pale, but he looked at his brother, with an angry look. "Let that be" he said out of breath. Sigurd approached him, but his place was taken by Hamer. "What's the matter Ivar, are you scared after all? Are you afraid of the water and that as a Viking?” Sigurd laughed and looked at his friends, Ivar gritted his teeth and now grabbed Sigurd by the collar. Both started fighting in the boat. Ivar lay on top of his brother and kept hitting him, even when blood came out of his nose, he didn't stop. But Sigurd hit too, and Ivars eyebrow split open. Ivar's blood spattered onto Sigurd's face and mixed with his. Ivar saw it very clearly, and for a moment the brothers just looked at each other. A moment of silence and as Ivar closed his eyes, he felt Sigurd pick him up and throw him overboard, the cold water enveloping him and when he opened his eyes he saw the blurred faces above him. Sigurd was standing up there on the boat, his face cold as ice, blood covering his face. The others were leaning forward and laughing as they watched as Ivar desperately tried to get to the surface of the water. But he didn't succeed, his legs were stiff and pulled him down more and more.

The air was getting tight, he put his hands around his throat and tried as best, not to breathe in. For a brief moment he saw his brothers Ubba and Hvitserk, his mother Aslaug and his father. But there were those wonderful moments, with Floki, the tree, which the stairs snaked around, or on the wing, before his vision went black, he saw the blade of grass, with a kink and no roots. He Tried to breath in and water fills His Lungs. Ivar woke up again as a deep breath drew water from his lungs and he spat it out on the boat beside him. His brother was sitting next to him, his clothes were wet. But he didn't look relieved. "Look at that, now we really caught a sticky big fish," Hamar said, and everyone laughed, even Sigurd. "Let's go home, today we're not catching anything better, and I'm cold," nodded to his friends and they headed towards the Kattegat. "You saved me," Ivar said breathlessly, the wet clothes and the cold making him shiver. "Of course, mother would kill me if something happened to her darling." He looked briefly at his friends, then he came closer to Ivar. "But I've thought about it," he whispered in his ear, grinning evilly as he walked away and helped his friends.

Ivar tried to hide his angry face and pulled the hood over his head. He wrapped his wet coat around his body and hoped his feet would soon find solid ground again. From today, he will fear the water even more than before, he knew that. He just watched the water the whole trip, he didn't say anything, he didn't think anything. Ivar was just freezing, and his pale face was now also adorned with blue lips. This time, Sigurd and his friends stopped right at the jetty, and they jumped out of the boat, which made it rock again, causing Ivar to panic, but he didn't want to show anything and clawed his fingers around the wood again. When they tied the boat, they left, leaving Ivar on the boat. "Brother," Ivar shouted, raising his hands, "You made it into the boat, then you can make it out, on your own" he said, laughing, and walked away with his friends. Ivar looked after him angrily, suppressing the words he would have liked to shout out. I can do it, he thought and wanted to go to the other side of the boat, but when the boat started to sway even slightly, he was so panicked, that he couldn't move anymore.

He wrapped his cloak around himself again and looked at the house in front of him, it was evening and nobody was to be seen. The water lapped softly against the boat's timbers, driving him insane. But it also got him lost in his thoughts. "I don't trust my brother's, Floki" - "And maybe that's a good thing" - "What do you mean?" - "I've heard a lot of stories about betrayal, also between brothers" - "Yes, I have that too, but that's not what I mean" - "You think they would kill you?" - "No, not Ubba and not Hvitserk, I can't imagine that" - "And Sigurd?" - "I don't know, there's something in his eyes" - "Ivar, let me tell you something. You're only 8 years old, but it's important to be able to read people, it's true, it's not easy. And maybe you're not always right with your guess. There are people who want to harm you and would do anything for you to trust them. Always assume that even the person who loves you can cheat” - “What do you mean by that, Floki?” - “You will know one day, it will take time, and you will be cheated many times. But one day you will know it.”

The cold wind brushed Ivar's face and his whole body shook so badly, that he felt the boat shake. "Now I know it, now I know it," he said softly, and his blue eyes fixed on a black raven on the shore that was barely visible. "Now I know it" His gaze fell on a human shape slowly approaching the boat. It took a while before he recognized his brother Ubba. "Sigurd said you're probably still here. Shall I help you” Ubba said quietly and looked him up and down. "If you don't tell anyone" - "I won't." Ubba whispered and smiled sympathetically at him.

End