#reader x ivar x oc

[myocsfanfictions]

Under the Devil’s Eye

Vikings FanFiction

MASTERLIST

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

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[thebadboyfanclub]

She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)

Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!

Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.

She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.

When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.

“We can still fight dear”

“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”

“What if they kill you?”

“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”

Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.

Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.

“Promise me you will come back to me”

“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”

-

(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.

(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.

“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”

“Who are you?”

“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”

The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.

“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”

The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.

“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”

Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.

To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.

“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”

“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”

Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.

Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.

(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.

“Lead the way, my lord”

She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.

“Welcome to Kattegat princess”

He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.

(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.

Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.

Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.

“So what brings you here princess?”

“War I am afraid”

“War?”

“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”

“So you ran?”

“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”

Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.

“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”

“How did you respond?”

“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”

“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”

“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”

“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”

“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”

“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”

“Definitely”

“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”

She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.

Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.

“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”

He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?

There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.

“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”

“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”

“Ride?”

“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”

“You mean I go up in that?”

“Hey, she is a lady”

Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.

As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.

“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”

“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”

“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”

“She sounds like a lovely woman”

“She was”

(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.

Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.

“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”

“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”

They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.

“This feels strange”

“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”

“Me neither”

She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.

With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.

“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”

“What?”

“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”

Requests are open!

[klarolineashur1919]

Part 3

You Smell Awful

Note/spoiler/warning I guess: Chapter contains an Innocent Alicent being a unintentional perv then Ivar being a very intentional full on perv.

"Did you sleep well?" Alicent said more of as a courtesy than a question finding Ivar in the same place she left him the night before.

Sitting against the wall menacingly staring at her. He didn't answer.

"Follow me" She sighed out, knowing he was going to be difficult but despite that she heard the dragging noise that came with him. Guards followed, Ivar looked at them coldly as Alicent tried to ignore them. She hated being watched.

Ivar noticed a book, she was holding in front of her.

A cross on its front. It made him almost growl making Alicent give him a pointed look like he was a child. She's going to be annoying was Ivar's only thought making him roll his eyes, staying at her side. She was taking him to the courtyard. Whispers followed them on the walk there. Servants and peasants whispering and gossiping as they watched them together.

Alicent finally taking a seat somewhere in a corner. She ignored the stares and voices.

Ivar was used to such things, he noticed the christian girl wasn't too phased by it either. Or so it seemed.

Alicent took deep breaths through her nose, opening the Bible. She felt Ivar beside her, improperly close. Breath just breath, he's just a heathen and who cares of the words of peasants and servants. But each inhale of her nose started to become more and more difficult. More and more vile until her head followed her nose to the source.

"My goodness" She gave out an exclaimed whisper, her head going by Ivar's neck making him slowly flinch away in confusion.

"You smell awful" She kept her voice down saving him embarrassment even though she was speaking in his language and he didn't care. Himself slightly laughing and looking at her like she said the most obvious statement she could make.

"Come with me" She got up, taking him somewhere. She gave him her first pitiful look that made him look at her mockingly. This is why she pities him? Not because he's a cripple but because she thought he smelled. He was in complete humored disbelief. She took him to a large room.

"Gentlemen wait outside will you" Alicent said sweetly as she closed the doors in the guards faces before they could interject. Ivar looked around the room curiously. The pillars that surrounded a pool of water in the middle.

"Get in, I will not watch you" Alicent made a hand gesture towards the pool like she was ushering in an animal. Ivar dragged himself towarded the edge looking down. It was too deep. He sat against one of the pillars. Dipping his hands, then rubbing them against his neck.

Alicent turned around, her eyebrows knitted "What are you doing?" He ignored her.

"I thought you heathens had no modesty... you can go in with your underclothes and I promise you I have no interest in looking" She tried to sound reassuring thinking that was the cause of his reluctance but this only made Ivar snicker.

Ivar looked her straight in the eyes, leaned against the pillar and stayed unmoving. Alicent huffed out, muttering to herself going out the door. Ivar smirked thinking she left him to him to his own devices. He looked around there was only one exit and the windows were too small. He didn't have much time to think with the door opening again. She came through with a bucket filled with items, that Ivar didn't bother to look at turning from her.

"Well" She said more to herself as she took bottles and clothes out from the bucket "Athelred's clothes probably won't fit but they will have to do for now."

Ivar heard her movements but didn't look until he jumped at the feeling of a wet cloth of his face. His eyes looking at her wide, she was inches from him.

"If I'm to save your soul then how can I stand by and let you have the smell of a dog" Alicent said bluntly with a pleasant smile. Ivar's eyes bore into her as she gently cleaned his face.

She did it so throughly, even getting behind his ears. Moving to the back of his neck. Ivar almost had the most depraved thought she was making a pass at him but her eyes, her eyes he couldn't figure out. There was no lust or ill will in them nor was there in her touch. But was there in his?

When Alicent looked up at him, his eyes were so intensely looking at her. She involuntarily giggled making him look down. She paused for a moment, looking at him blankly. He was just a boy. Her hands slowly went to his shoulders.

Ivar's eyes went wide and his mouth started to open then close repeatedly. She was taking off his vest then had his tunic that felt stuck to his body after not being removed for weeks.

Alicent neatly folded them both beside the pillar even though she planned on throwing them away later. She kept her eyes lowered as she rinsed and soaked the cloth in the water before started at his collarbone. She felt his eyes on her every move.

"Why are you doing this?" His words cutting the air's tension, making her eyebrow pique but her head did not rise.

"I'm suppose to help you" Alicent said simply, staying at his upper body and his arms. Trying to keep her eyes averted from his lower chest.

She was somewhat shocked by how toned he was. Most boys his age didn't look how he did.

He had the body of a man, not a boy.

"You're supposed to convert me to your God how is bathing me, supposed to do that hmm? You're acting like a servant" He scoffed crossing his arms over his chest that looked in a way to be covering himself.

Alicent scrunched up her nose now being forced to look at his stomach and abdomen.

Well forced was a strong word.

"Or maybe you have very unchristian reasons for this intrusion, what ...like what you see christian?" He slithered onto her, his arms now at her sides. This made her turn away leaning back almost towards floor. She felt his breath on her neck, this wasn't right. No. She wouldnt cower to this heathen. Her body started to straighten, it got closer to his. She would not let him poison her mind. She faced him meeting his eye. He had the bluest eyes she ever saw.

" Last supper, The devil had prompted Judas, to betray Jesus." Alicent placed her hand on Ivar's chest. His breath stopped. He titled his head at her questionly. She gulped as she knew he was something to be reckon with. She always knew from the moment she met him yesterday. She knew by his eyes, his demonic blue eyes.

" Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God" She told it like a story, a story that lulled him slightly she thought. Her hand pressed against his chest pushing him back down against the pillar. He let her. She never broke eye contact until, she soaked the cloth again.

" So he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him." She recited as she started cleaning muscles of his torso. She let out a sigh as she did. Trying to get a singular thought out of her head... he didn't look like other boys.

She wouldn't allow herself to sin.

"He came to Simon Peter, who said to him-" "You're strange and boring cristian" Alicent shot up looking at him offended by him whining out his insult as if she was torturing him.

"I was merely answering-" "I don't care" Ivar didn't even look at her as she looked at his completely flabbergasted by his rudeness.

"Turn around I have to get your back"Alicent said in a monotone voice as Ivar didn't even look or respond to her statement. Ivar was done following this girls strange christian behavior.

Alicent had enough throwing the cloth on the floor.

"Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I want to be here with you? Do you have any idea how my-" Alicent stopped herself from bringing up her father, who had given hell over this arrangement over breakfast. But when it came who's orders she was going to follow, her grandfather's came first. She breathed in and out. Her eyes closed, her face clenched in place.

Ivar thought he had finally broken her by being uncooperative and he started laughing.

That was the last straw, Alicent let out an uncharacteristic growl of aggravation before suddenly pushing Ivar into the water "I've had it with you heathen" Alicent got up crossing her arms turning her back to him until she heard the frantic splashing.

She slowly turned around "boy.." She saw him struggling underwater. Was this a trick? She slowly went to the pool, looking over the edge.

He was drowning.

She frantically stripped to her shift, jumping in.

He was screaming underwater, he was terrified.

Alicent's heart ached at the sight. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to hold him up but he was heavy. She tired to prop him up, his legs would not do it and the boy was freaking out. Alicent pulled him over to the wall with much difficulty.

Ivar immediately clung to it when he reached it.

Alicent pulled herself up to sit on the edge by him"I'm sorry I did not think-"

"Of course you did not think you stupid cristian ..you couldve killed me" Ivar yelled at her facing the floor but Alicent didn't move a muscle.

"Me a stupid christian girl almost killed one of the great sons of the legendary Ragnar Lothbrok?" Alicent said mockingly insulted by his tone towards her. She perceded to ignore him ringing out her hair, loudly mumbling to herself in anger about getting wet.

Ivar genuinely thought he was going to drown this stupid cristian girl, his mouth going into a sneer before he looked at her. His jaw dropped.

Ivar's eyes landed on her body. Her body that was completely visible to him through her soaked shift. Her body was fuller than he would've expected. He didn't expect her very round chest and hips. His fists clenched together, his eyes lowering at the crease in the soaked cloth between her crossed legs. His mouth went dry from being open so long then he felt a constriction below. His face scrunched up as looked down at himself. How could this happened? And out of all the girls?

"You know you could swim if you wanted to?" Alicent looked down at him questioningly, his mouth agape and his eyes dazed. His body language on the other hand looked angry. She was trying to diffuse the situation.

"What?" Ivar snapped out, very uncomfortable physically and now being back under her gaze.

"It's how you're able to get around with just your arms, you could do that with swimming as well" Alicent said gently, the boy rolled his eyes like she said the most idiotic thing ever.

"You know move your arms in a circular motion at your sides" She tried to demonstrate in the air childishly as he dismissively waves her off.

He turned around leaning his back against the wall, his triceps then the rest of his arms sprawled out at the edge keeping him up.

Alicent eyed him, letting out a little "hm" before getting back in the water.

Ivar flinched at her passing. She went to the middle of the pool just far enough away from him.

"Filthy disgusting heathen" Alicent shouted at him "now do you see what my arms are doing" she said sweetly as she was fully capable of standing but was showing the boy the arm movement.

Ivar at first only scrunched up his face and raised his eyebrows at her before turning away in annoyance.

"What is your name heathen" Alicent asked simply realizing she didn't know it.

"Ivar" He gritted his head tilted in a mocking tone before his eyes met once again with her very full breasts. This girl had the body of a woman Ivar smirked to himself, his eyes not looking away.

Alicent did not have one depraved thought in her head that she was thinking Ivar was actually paying attention now to her arm movements because what could he be looking at so intently.

"Now Ivar disgusting foul smelling ugly heathen watch my arms and swim over here" Ivar was intensely watching Alicent's nipples hardening bobbing in and out of the water with every movement. He was panting and at the point of aching until he focused on one word.

"You think I'm ugly?" Ivar's eyes darkened looking at her eyes now, his fists clenched while his body involuntary rolled.

Alicent thinking her plan was working thought she should say yes because it would continue to rouse him but then a thought crossed her brain.

It was a sin to lie.

The pause made Ivar smirk to the point his teeth showed. And then Alicent thought of it in a different way.

"Yes, yes I do" as a person Alicent thought .

Ivar's smirk faded and he looked down, Alicent felt bad to the point but pushed it down. She splashed him.

"Come don't you want to drown me heathen" Alicent persisted and Ivar glared at her. His silence was frightening but she was not afraid and she realized something might push him further.

"You ugly harmless cripple-" She screamed at one splash of muscled arms towards her that made her do one deep back stroke that got her at out of the pool. Ivar did another movement with a growl and saw the girl smiling. Was she mocking him? He did another movement that got him out of the pool about to bludgeon her head into the stone floor.

"Ivar you swam" He looked at her face and paused. She was smiling at him and it wasn't mockingly. She tilted her head looking over his shoulder as he was only arms length from her.

"That wasnt-" He shook his head in disbelief at her but she stopped him. Looking at where she was looking, the edge he was at before and where he was now.

"Three strokes, if it was one I would agree with you but it was three" She giggled and he just leaned on his arm, shaking his head. Not noticing she was looking everywhere but him.

"I was going to kill you" Ivar said honestly and Alicent froze for only a moment.

"Huh...I taught you how to swim and self-control all in a matter of minutes" She laughed dryly while Ivar's eyes glowed at her. She laughs in the face of death.

"I think that is the end of our lesson for today" She quickly gets up "the guards will bring you back" and with that she leaves with blue eyes following her.

Ivar just laid himself out on the stone. And he laughed, all he do was laugh.

She laughs in the face of death.

[witchezandwonderz]

My Valkyrie

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Summary: Ivar and his wife are just as beautifully toxic as one another, and their obsession for one another shows at all times.

Tagged list: : @leftoverp1zza @somebody6468 @cheesesandwichsanto @diorpar @tessakate @miksmom-blog

If you want to be added/removed from the tagged list let me know:)

Masterlist

The feast in Kattegat is lively, filled with the sounds of laughter, drunken boasts, and the clash of tankards. Ivar sits at the head of the hall, enjoying the scenery around him. More specifically, enjoying the sight of his wife who stood proudly on the other side of the hall, partaking in drinking competitions with his men.

He sat comfortably, his left hand swirling the liquid within his tankard and his right hand rested on the stone table before him. He watched his wife in awe, as he always did, studying her movements.

Ivar never thought that he would marry; he never understood his brothers’ love for women. He thought that if he ever was to be bound to a woman, it would be because of an arrangement, or against his own will.

But then he met her- his Valkyrie.

It had been a long day, and he really could not be bothered to attend the feast of an Earl that he did not remember the name of. He had only forced his men to join him in the hopes of forming an alliance which would consequently mean gaining a greater army to join him on his next venture across the seas.

As soon as Ivar entered the small hall, his eyes were transfixed on the raven haired beauty who sat next to the Earl. She saw him looking at her, and to his surprise, did not lower her head like others. No, she stayed looking at him- her eyes locking into his, and a broad smirk on her face.

Strange, Ivar thought. Women usually averted eye contact in fear that he may try and speak with them.

The Earl invited Ivar to sit with him, which Ivar would usually detest, but sitting there meant that he would be able to speak to her, and he wanted that very much.

She watched him as he walked over, her eyes never leaving his figure- she was analysing him. As Ivar sat, she sipped her drink slowly.

“Ivar, allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Y/N.” The earl said quickly, gesturing to her slightly.

Ivar nodded at her, “pretty name.” He said, a boastful grin painted on his lips.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she had a chance to, her father spoke loudly.

“pretty name” He repeated, shaking his head as he spoke, "nothing pretty about this one, good fighter though.” He croaked as he hurried to shovel handfuls of meat into his mouth.

Ivar looked at him disgusted, before flicking his gaze to Y/N who rolled her eyes, and downed the remaining liquid in her cup.

“Sometimes I think you forget how well I can fight, father.” She warned, her voice serious but not raised.

The small interaction that Ivar witnessed gave him an insight of her past, and as the pair spoke more and more, it was obvious that they were extremely similar.

That night, Ivar did not leave with more men, but he did leave with her, for she was a much greater prize than a bigger army.

News of Ivar's new marriage had spread like wild fire. Although the majority of Kattegat were loyal to Ivar, his irrational, arrogant ways terrified them all the same. Some, if not most were horrified to learn that his new wife was equally as brutal, equally as arrogant and unbelievably irrational.

All Y/N saw was Ivar; she breathed him- every decision she made from the moment she laid her eyes on him had his best interests at heart. She was under his spell, and she never wanted to wake up. He was everything that she had ever dreamt of, and no one was going to take that from her.

The first time that Y/N lost her temper in front of him was the first time that Ivar saw her for what he believed she truly was- a valkyrie, his valkyrie. He could not remember what aggravated her, or how the situation even began, but he could never forget the rage that burned within her. Her eyes switched, and he could have sworn they changed colour as they squinted from anger, his eyes in turn brightening, laughing in delight as he watched her violently attack a random person. Her father was correct, she was a good fighter, an amazing fighter.

The fondness of this memory brought a smile to his face, as he focused once more on her beauty from across the hall. She was not just a vision of chaos and violence, but also of beauty and sweetness. Her smile lit up the entire room, her aura was so powerful that she had the ability to make a whole room feel just as deeply as she did.

She laughed loudly, her howling echoing throughout the walls as she desperately clutched her stomach. She had beat yet another man in a speed drinking competition, and was surrounded by her best shield maiden friends. Her best friend leant over and whispered something in her ear, causing Y/N to spit out the liquid in her mouth and erupt into a fit of laughter once again. Ivar, infected by her, laughed along with her, shaking his head as he did so.

"Magnificent." He said to himself, lifting his cup to his lips once more, his eyes still locked onto her.

"Ivar." An unfamiliar, high pitched voice spoke softly from beside him. Instead of looking away, he continued to stare across the hall and muttered a blunt 'hm'.

The voice did not waver, nor did it falter in the face of his clear disregard for the interaction. "You are not as I imagined."

Ivar finally turned his head slowly, his eyes settling on the woman who had dared to interrupt his admiration and thoughts.

She was small and quite young, with golden hair and a hesitant smile. Though her posture was lazy, there was a flicker of boldness in her gaze, and confidence laced within her expression.

He did not respond, instead, nodding at her expectantly.

She took it as an invitation to continue.

“You are, of course, a great warrior” she said shyly, her lips curving nervously. She continued, now fixing her sights onto the ground beneath her, “but you are also… striking.”

Ivar’s lips curled ever so slightly, but not for the reason she likely hoped. He was not flattered, and he did not care for her opinions. He was, however, excited to see how this situation would play out.

He noticed the way the men around him shifted, the tension that seeped into the air was so thick that he was surprised they did not begin to choke.

More importantly, he noticed the way that his wife had gone completely silent.

His amusement deepened.

The girl mistook it for encouragement. Silly girl.

“Your strength is unbelievable,” she added, stepping closer, the once nervousness within her voice now overtaken by arrogance, “and your brilliant mind is even more so."

Ivar exhaled sharply, something between a chuckle and a sigh. He tapped his fingers against the table, his eyes flickering from her, to all of those that surrounded her. Though he tried not to look at his wife, he could not help it. His gaze darted around the hall until it finally landed on her, as she stood with a firm grip on her sword- so elegant, so beautiful. He winced at the sight of her; Her dress, a deep emerald green, clung to her form like ivy, woven with black embroidery in the shapes of twisting vines and Norse runes of power and protection. Long, flowing sleeves draped from her arms, split at the elbows, giving glimpses of the dark leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists, engraved with ancient symbols of war and bloodlust. Her cloak, made of thick black fur, sat heavy on her shoulders, fastened with a silver brooch shaped like a Valkyrie’s wing.

She was the vision of a queen, the vision of a goddess. Regardless of how elegant she dressed, or how well she carried herself, the array of weapons that she hid beneath her cloak spoke a thousand words.

Ivar tried to predict her next move, but he could not. One of the aspects he loved most about her was how unpredictable she was, and how she had the ability to look blankly at someone whom she wanted to kill. He did not know what she was thinking or planning, bu he did know her gaze.

Gods, her dark, unrelenting gaze.

Ivar felt a thrill rush down his spine, a wicked kind of anticipation sparking in his blood.

His wife had always been possessive- of his time, of his attention, of him. And though he enjoyed toying with her, encouraging her, there were moments- glorious, fantastic moments- when he preferred to sit back and allow her to unleash herself.

The girl, oblivious to the danger she had summoned, smiled shyly. “I mean no disrespect to your wife, of course,” she added hastily. “But surely, she must know that she is lucky to have you.”

Ivar hummed, glancing toward his wife once more, curious to see if she would make her move-

But she only tilted her head, her eyes squinting as she did so, and then took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, in an attempt to control her anger and wait just a moment longer.

The girl took his silence as permission, and in turn, stepped closer towards him, “perhaps she does not understand you as I would,” she murmured, “perhaps she does not—”

The loud noise of a dagger suddenly landing in the wall in front of the girl caught everyone by surprise, though, they did not need to guess who threw it.

The girl gasped, raising her hand to her ear and gently wiping it, only to realise that the dagger had cut it as it flew past. Y/N had immaculate aim.

Ivar did not flinch.

He merely grinned.

Because he knew what was about to happen.

The sound of boots against the wooden floor followed- the footsteps calm and paced. If anything, they approached slowly- almost like a lion stalking it's prey.

The girl turned just in time to see her.

Her expression was unreadable, eerily calm, but her eyes… they burned with something ancient, something feral.

"What were you thinking?" Y/N asked, genuinely. Though, she never gave her a chance to reply before giggling, "I mean, did you really think that flirting with my husband would work out in your favour?"

The girl swallowed. “I-”

She never managed to finish her sentence, because Y/N moved.

Her hands gripped the girls neck so tightly that she let out a squeak. Y/N let go of her, the sudden movement jolting her to the floor. Immediately, she bent down and picked her back up, but not with her neck. This time, she tangled her hands within the girls hair, and dragged her so that she was right in front of Ivar, then forced her onto her knees.

The girls chest panted up and down as she frantically looked between the married couple.

Ivar smirked, wondering what was going to happen next. He looked up at his wife who now stood next to him. Y/N bent down and used her finger to grab Ivar's chin, her lips crashed against his with brutal force, her free hand grasping at the back of his neck as if she was trying to pull him inside of her. Ivar groaned into her mouth, his own hands finally moving, one grasping at her waist, the other tangling into her hair, returning her passion with equal fire.

Their bodies pressed together, their hunger evident, their need undeniable. The entire hall watched—shocked, captivated, horrified, amused, impressed even.

Their lack of care for people's opinions was admirable.

Y/N let go suddenly, causing Ivar to falter slightly and settle back into his seat. He smiled, his lips now red and puffy from the kiss. Raising his hand to touch his mouth, he watched as his wife walked around the table and back towards the woman who cowered on the floor.

"You should never go near what does not belong to you." She said, calmly. Her movements contradicted her tone, as she leapt towards her.

So fast, so sudden, that the girl barely had time to react before a blade was buried deep into her stomach.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her hands flying to the dagger now protruding from her flesh, her fingers quickly becoming drenched in crimson liquid.

The hall had gone deathly silent.

No one dared to intervene. They never did.

She twisted the blade, slow and deliberate, tilting her head in curiosity as she watched the girl choke on a scream.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against the girl’s ear. “You are lucky I let you speak for as long as you did,” she murmured, voice a deadly whisper.

And then, with a vicious yank, she ripped the dagger free.

The girl took one final desperate gasp for air, before stammering and falling forwards. Blood pooled beneath her, warm and thick, soaking into the wooden floor.

For a long moment, his wife simply stood there, watching the life drain from her. Then, without so much as a glance at the horrified onlookers, she turned to Ivar.

Her gaze met his.

And Ivar- grinning like a man possessed- raised his cup in salute.

“My wife” he drawled, voice dripping with satisfaction

His wife smirked, carelessly wiping the blood from her blade on her beautiful dress, “She was a fool.”

“Yes,” Ivar agreed, tipping his head toward her. “But she gave me a gift.”

She snapped her head towards him and arched a brow. “Oh?”

Ivar leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “She reminded me,” he murmured, his voice laced with hunger, “just how much you belong to me.”

His wife let out a breath of laughter, nervous laughter. Her cheeks burned red as she blushed, and used her index finger to twirl a strand of her hair. Some people thought it amusing that she would turn into a giggling, anxious girl from someone speaking in such a dark and toxic way.

But they were toxic and dark, and that was what made them, them.

They were not perfect, they were strange, they were eccentric, they were violent, they were possessive. But they were happy, in love, and shared a bond like no other.

[tvertimot]

Tvertimot Masterlist

The Vikings

Roses and Thorns - Ubbe x OC modern AU (unfinished; currently on hold)

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Adopting a child with Ivar - Ivar x Reader

Telling Ivar you’re pregnant - Ivar x Rader

Reader’s first raid - Hvitserk x Reader

Marrying Halfdan - Halfdan x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Lord of the Rings

Deep down - Eomer x OC (in progress)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,8 , 9 , 10(soon)

You can also visit my Wattpad

[lavender-romancer]

Winter

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict

You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness

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

You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.

You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.

"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.

"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.

"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.

"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."

"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.

"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.

"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.

"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.

Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.

When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.

"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.

"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.

"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.

"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.

"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.

"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.

"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.

For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.

"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.

"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.

"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.

Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.

Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.

[mads-weasley]

Summary: The daughter of Torstein, the loyal friend and warrior of Ragnar Lothbrok, meets Hvitserk Ragnarsson and sets a course for both of their lives that neither would ever see coming. Will it lead to ruin or salvation?

You'll have to read and find out :)

A/N: The following is a the story of Eira and Hvitserk through seasons 5b-6b. At first, there will be chapters of the main story, but as time goes on, there will be oneshots/blurbs/ect. They will be arranged chronologically on this masterlist, but they will not always be posted chronologically.

Updates on Sundays at 12:00am!

Season 5b:

Shadows of the Gods

Prove It

Bound to Madness

Brotherly Love

Hidden Connections

The Path We Walk

The Offer

A Gentle Warrior

Cracks of Doubt

Tug of War

Breaking Point

Through the Haze

Fevered Truths

Of Gods and Choices

Simple Curiosities

Thoughts and Memories (coming 3/2)

The Cloak (coming 3/9)

Little Fox (coming 3/16)

A Moonlit Moment (coming 3/23)

In Good Hands (coming 3/30)

What Comes After (coming 4/6)

The Warmth of a Touch (coming 4/13)

Wild Child (coming 4/20)

Fire and Ice (coming 4/27)

Can't or Won't? (coming 5/4)

Into Darkness (coming 5/11)

The Cost (coming 5/18)

No Going Back (coming 5/25)

Into the Woods (coming 6/1)

Another Life (coming 6/8)

More are on the way!

[cookie-crumblr]

Just now could I read about Ivar (I was in class), and I need him to ABSOLUTELY RAIL ME PLEASE ILL DO ANYTHING

absolutely nonnie!! you don’t gotta do anything <3

MINORS DNI!

CW: GN! Reader, Reader referred to as they/them, reader has multiple orgasms, protected sex(this time), not proofread, sub reader, public sex, exhibition,

“Please no, seriously get off.” You say again.

The purple and blue and green laser lights zip around the tall, smoke filled room, giving you an even weirder experience with this stranger. His hand is enclosed around your arm so tight, your flesh is raised around his fingers.

“Not a chance, we’re dancin’ now,” He leans into your ear, his sour breath stinging your nostrils, almost making you gag.

“I suggest you listen to them” an icy, menacing voice flows over your head, the guy’s hand only stays on you for as long as he’s frozen staring up at something, someone behind you.

You finally turn to see your savior and gulp.

Gods, he’s positively massive. Your mouth waters at the mere sight of him, and you feel honored to have been helped by such a magnificent specimen of a man. “Thank you…” You say breathily.

His eyes, a fine green with beautiful amber specs and ridges, stare down at you for only a second longer, he’s leading you to the bathrooms.

The next thing you know, your back is scraping against something that feels like the hook for jackets on the inside of the bathroom stall while this hulk of a man sucks and kisses and bites on your neck. His dick is huge, you feel it rubbing up against you through both of your clothes, as he bounces you on it. Your legs are around his waist and his hands are holding you up.

“Think you can take me?”

He fishes something out of his pocket, and thank goodness he was prepared, it’s a condom. And you are so ready.

“Yes!”

He gets rid of the cloth obstacles between you while you plant kisses all over him where ever you can reach. His broad chest, or big, veiny flexing arms, to his neck hidden by a well groomed beard that screams “business by day, pillaging villages by night”. You press your fingers into his skin and flex your toes as he begins pressing his fat cock head into you. When it pops in you both jump. His dick is already twitching inside you.

“Fuck!!! mmm!!!” You moan fervently as he fills you, absolutely stretching you beyond belief.

“Such a tight thing you are,” he groans.

You clench around his girth, “Yes!” You try and bounce on his cock yourself but he stops you. Grabbing your ass and holding your entire person up by it.

He smiles, showing off his perfect teeth, “Such an eager thing too,” slowly, he rocks into you, “I like eager,” His gravelly voice is even deeper now and sends zaps of electricity through you. you try and move as much as you can to chase that hot friction he’s causing but fail against his iron grasp.

“Please!” You beg.

“Please what?” He gives you one particularly hard thrust, bouncing your body and scraping you over that hinge.

“mmmmmmmm!” It hurts but at the same time all you can do is moan! “Please just fuck me!”

“are you sure you can handle that?” His smile sends shivers down your burning scraped up spine.

“Yess!!” oh my gods “Yes!”

The stranger who you’ve long since forgotten is even a stranger with your bodies interlocked perfectly in this public bathroom, finds your hips and digs his fingers in before lifting you up, at the same time pulling out of you. Then he sets his brutal pace, impaling you repeatedly and body jigglingly hard thrusts, his muscles flexed taught under your fingers.

soon you’re overcome with your first or second orgasm, you’ve never felt this good, you don’t even know where one burst ended and this one began, and it bursts like red hot fireworks through your blood and behind your eyelids. The veiny thick thing inside you, stretching you and pounding into you keeps going without mercy.

You’re whole body is shaking, and you can no longer hold onto him, luckily he notices you slipping and doubles his effort by bouncing you harder, chasing his high, and bruising the back of your thighs.

His own hips shudder and his member pulses inside you.

He fills the condom, and quickly pulls out, to which you whine immediately.

“Just putting on a second one”

[mamamythics]

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:✦:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

┊┋ Pairing: Ubbe x OC

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

┊┋legacy and when you knew your end is

┊┋coming, that’s when you start lacking

┊┋in the one wish you desired the most

┊┋because of your adventurous ways”,

┊┋the tone in the childs voice as she

┊┋spoke to the great Ragnar with the

┊┋winds flowing through her silver black

┊┋hair that would gently swiftly moves in

┊┋the wind with the hues of her white like

┊┋grey slate eyes knowing her destiny

┊┋would soon start dealing with the sons

┊┋of Ragnar.

┊┋ Notes: Tw:

┊┋ 686 Words Count

┊┋ Masterlist

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:✦:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

As the day crossed while the ravens squalled in their morning routine, a woman walked out of her cobblestone little cottage and proceeded to her daily routine wearing a strap dress with an undergarment that was fitted to her curves-like shape body as her animal hide tunic wrapped around her shoulder strap as well.

☽☾☽☾

The young assiduous woman came to a halt when the presence of a familiar figure came upon her approach he, with her doe eyes from her white like grey slate hue eyes as her demure state fell upon seeing the great himself, Ragnar. "You were just a little kid, Skuld Draugr", the great Viking king spoke towards her as she stood there with her taciturn nature like always to amaze the Viking Ragnar.

☽☾☽☾

"What has become of who was once the youthful, strong who now become the old and lost Ragnar Lothbrok", as the words fell from her pink perched lips with a voice that was seraphic with a rasp that soothes a person's ears she looked at the old man who she once had an encounter with long ago in her youthful as a child.

☽☾☽☾

"I believed at a time when I first encountered a child in the woods with a basket filled with herbs who still had that taciturn and demure fearless nature told me once that as I grew my legacy there will be a time when my journey comes to an end is when i lack the one wish i desired", Ragnar spoke with his bearded lips while coming close towards skuld as she stood still watching him, listening to the words she once told him when she was a child. "Your death is nearing Ragnar Lothbrok, where you will be greeted by the Valkyries who will take you home as they summon you", She spoke yet again knowing it was time for his offspring to continue a family legacy...

☽☾☽☾

As a flock of ravens flies around squalling as Skuld looks at the ravens her eyes set upon a man with runes embedded in his skin with one eye out of the socket wearing a black linen cloak with raven feathers covered around it appears in her sight speaking "The embodiment of the goddess of fate, and the skilled strength of a Valkyrie with the dark petrified aura of a Draugr... its time to prepare the journey of a great embark of your own for the offspring of Ragnar Lothbrok will need your presence and strength, Skuld Draugr", hearing his voice who was deep-toned and groggy she knew it was time for the one who spoke to her was none other than Odin himself who appeared in her vision, as kept looking coming back to reality seeing where Odin was standing was not there no more and the ravens was no more to be seen, as that was the sign that it was time for her journey to begin...

☽☾☽☾

Skuld Draugr was none like no shieldmaiden or no Viking but yet had the skill of a Valkyrie warrior, her mother was gifted by the gods to give such a daughter with the beauty of skin that color was different from the rest as her white-like grey slate eyes, as Skuld was set out to be Odin's Valkyrie, that in death she will be welcomed upon her fellow Valkyries. But as she grows, she encounters the great king Ragnar who she sees in her visions as a seer seeing what future lies in his paths and that it is she who will give her presence upon his offspring when they grow up into young adults, given shes slight younger than Bjorn but older than Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar...

☽☾☽☾

"You are not like any woman I have encountered with such skills like yours" " The Eldest Son of Ragnar and Queen Aslaug spoke with such compassion in his voice that made Skuld grow a smile with her heart beating not knowing what's become over her. Until the visions leave the woman with her eyes slowly opening having a feeling that this journey is going to be difficult...

A/N: Sorry if the prologue was small…

[underscorewriting]

Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless

this. this is the one I might be the most excited for to write!

Thank you for your request :)

May the gods forbid.

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: Language probably?

Words: 2.425

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was. He wasn't supposed to happen. The gods were playing tricks on her, this couldn't be real. She wanted to hate him, hate how he despised her sister. He was a smartass, an arrogant little boy with anger issues if something didn't go his way.

One son of Ragnar was her greatest fear for her younger sister. Ivar. He was unpredictable and even though the girl was taught how to fight, Lagertha knew that she would not be good enough to protect herself from him. That was the main reason why Lagrtha forbid her sister to leave her side. Lagertha was always very protective of her, even more when the sons of Aslaug and Ragnar started planning to kill her or hurt her the same way she hurt them by killing their mother.

So one night when the girl was upset and searched for a place to hide away, she walked into the woods. Flokis and Helgas place always brought her the most comfort when her and Lagertha fought, those were the times she thought the girl was quietly in her chamber. Sitting down in a small meadow, she leaned back, watching the stars, inhaling the fresh air.

Rustling behind her made her hand quickly shoot to the dagger she kept on her thigh. "Well don't you look cozy." The cold voice of the prince made her flinch as she sat up completely, her body being on alert if he tried anything. "What do you want, Ivar?" The exhaustion from was as clear in her voice and how she said his name as it was on her face. She didn't want to live like this. To live a life that held nothing for her, since she wasn't allowed to do much. Even her nephew Björn was always watching over her when he was here.

Tilting his head Ivar studied her face for a second before crawling over to her and settling down besides her. "I decided I won't kill you." He pursed his lips looking over at her a playful glint in his eyes. "Not yet at least." A small smile pulled at her lips as she averted her face. "Ubbe told us about how Lagertha screamed at you. She was always quiet..." A stern glare from the girl made the boy hold his hands up in defense, a small smirk on his face as he saw her hand moving away from the dagger, finally starting to relax.

Ivar was a simple man, his plan to kill Lagertha was only left uncompleted due to his attraction to her little sister and now having her here in front of him was something he didn't know he longed for. Looking back up at the sky she sighed in frustration. "How is the world out there? You traveled didn't you?" Sitting up straight she turned to him.

The young princes eyebrows raised in surprise as he smiled slightly. "The world is huge, it has so much to see." pouting slightly the girl cursed her sister as she listened to Ivars stories. He told her all about Wessex and the people there, how different their belief are from theirs, which she as well found hilarious. As the night turned colder they took the path back to their home. Not once did they stop talking about what he saw out there and what she would want to see once she'll get out there.

"Gods, I want to see the world, Ivar." Smiling softly she twirled and inhaled the fresh air. Watching her Ivar felt his heart swell at the sight of her carefreeness. "I want to show it to you." His tone was serious and when she looked at him she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "Ivar..." Her voice was a mere whisper, shaking her head she sat down in the dirt near a haystack.

"We can't. Lagertha would never allow this. She wouldn't allow us, Ivar..." She was desperate for him to understand that this would never happen, but he was not having any of it. He would take what he want and if he wanted to have her, then he was going to have her. "Your sister does not control you, nor does anyone else. You should be able to live your life how you want it to be, the gods forbid that you won't live it to the fullest."

Looking around she kissed his cheek quickly. "I'll meet with you in the meadow tomorrow night, don't be late!" She turned around as she quickly ran to her chambers, smiling brightly at him before entering. The young prince couldn't help but grin at her actions, feeling a little giddy himself.

After that night they started sneaking around at night, only sharing small meaningful glances at each other when they passed one another or during a feast. Soon Lagertha grew suspicious, but not because she noticed any of the glances, no, it was because suddenly her sister started training more, stopped questioning her about being able to travel. It was as if she suddenly stopped caring about all that.

Ubbe offered to train with her, Lagertha trusted him so she allowed him to take her sister to the woods during the day as well. Ivar told his brothers about her and how he wanted to see her at any costs as much as he could. In the woods the four of them would train, Ivar didn't trust Sigurd close to her, due to disgusting glances he threw her way when she was merely visiting them over the past years.

She soon found herself growing closer to the brothers and feeling accepted by them. Freedom, was so close she could almost taste it. Walking with Ivar at night was her newly found escape, after he got his greave done for his legs and fixed up his crutches they could even hold hands while walking. Him rubbing her hand soothingly with his thumb, placing ocationally kisses onto her palm , whenever she talked about something that upset her. He enjoyed listening to her almost as much as her gentle kisses he would get to feel whenever his pain was unbearable.

They balanced each other nicely and after a few months the word marriage appeared more and more in their talks about their future. The girl was scared of how her sister would react to her and the youngest Ragnarsson being inseparable and spent every minute they could together.

But she didn't need to tell her, because one day during her and Ubbes training lessons, while she was play fighting with Ivar . Lagertha walked up the path, none of them noticed her sharp eyes watching. Ivar had her pinned down, laughing while she tried to push him of before rolling over and sitting on his stomach, having the prince at her mercy making her grin down at him.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were watching them, drinking ale and laughing at what the other said. Lagertha was disappointed in her, why didn’t she tell her that they were lovers? She continues watching them and filled an old familiar pain in her heart. Ivar was holding her sister now, not strong enough to hurt but strong enough to let her know he had control over the situation but her sister seemed completely fine with it as she leaned into his chest looking up at him with gentle eyes and a loving smile.

Ivars smile matched hers and in this exact moment Lagertha realized that she kept her sister protected from the most beautiful thing out there, a thing she herself shared with Ragnar even after his death. Love. Ivar was similar to Ragnar in many ways, but with her in his arms he resembled his father more than anyone would guess. Of course, she didn’t want her sister to be with someone like Ivar, he was dangerous, but if it is him that makes her as happy as she is right now, then that is all she would ask for.

Returning to her throne back in the great hall Lagertha couldn’t stop thinking about how she should’ve noticed the signs. Ivar was more around than he used to be, it wasn’t his normal behavior. Besides he was being a lot kinder than usual. As Torvi entered the great hall she noticed how lost in thoughts the queen was. „What is the matter?“ She said as she walked next to to sit down by her side. „Did you know about Ivar and my sister?“ Lagertha turned to Torvi catching the younger woman smile apologetic. „Ubbe said I wasn’t supposed to tell you, I apologize.“

As she heard giggles and laughter she could tell the four of them were coming closer, she prepared herself to confront her sister about this. But how was she supposed to? She was spying on her when she found out, not having had one good reason to walk out there in the woods except to check up on her actually being there. Ubbe was the first one to walk into the great hall, he noticed something was up when Torvi didn’t greet him right away. The girl was still outside giggling and whispering. Her whispers could be heard in the whole hall. Quietness settled in as the last three of them walked in, the girl walking a little behind but smiling brightly whenever Ivar would turn around to see if she was still there with him.

„Hello sister!“ The girl greeted and smiles brightly at Lagertha. The queen did not respond, making her feel uneasy as she glanced toward Ubbe, who sighed quietly looking down. Instantly the girl knew what was going on. Panicking she walked closer to her, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked back to Ivar in reassurance. „It isn’t like you think…“ Lagerthas raised an eyebrow making the girl feel even more uneasy. „Well then how is it? Because it looks like my sister is keeping secrets from me. Keeping secrets because she thinks I don’t want to see her happy or loved.“

The girl gasped softly wondering just how much her sister had seen. „Lagertha, I promise you I do not have any intentions behind my bond with your sister. It’s about her not about you or how you killed my mother.“ Ivar broke the silence looking at Lagertha with pure hatred but his eyes seemed to soften when he looked over at the girl standing close to her. The girl flinched at Ivars harsh words. The woman on the throne couldn’t stop herself from laughing. „I did not even think about that for a second Ivar, because you wouldn’t even be able to.“

„Sister, Ivar would be capable of ruling over Kattegat just as well as you are. His ideas for this village are incredible. If you would just listen to them you’d see how capable he would be to do everything he wanted to.“ With wide eyes the girl just realized what she said, covering her mouth she looked down. „I’m sorry I spoke out of tune.“ Lagertha studied her and saw a lot of how she acted because of Ragnar in her sister, smiling slightly. As her eyes wandered to Ivar, she caught him smirking, his eyes glistening with pride and love as his eyes wandered over her figure.

Getting of her throne Lagertha stopped only in front of her. Her hand went up to cup her cheek, making the girl flinch. The boy tried to crawl over to them making sure the girl stayed unharmed, but Ubbe held him back making the young boy fight against his hold. „He makes you happy, doesn’t he?“ Lagerthas voice was quiet as she smiled down at her sister softly. Nodding her head the girl looked back up at her. „More than anything.“ Her eyes held a sincerity that the woman saw rarely. She was a bit taken aback by her truthfulness. Of course, she was upset about it having to be Ivar. Hvitserk would’ve been easier to accept but sadly that’s not what happened. „How could it be him, he is cruel and no good for you, my sweet sister…“ She could see Ivar lowering his head, knowing that Lagertha was right about him being cruel, not being good enough for the girl.

„He wants to show me the world. He isn’t cruel, he is just easy to upset and in pain, Lagertha…“ Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how bad Ivars legs had been these past weeks. „The gods are cruel to him sometimes, so I pray. I pray to them to stop it and he starts to feel better. He is not a cruel man, Lagertha. He just isn’t!“ Her hands were trembling as she clenched them into fists. Lagertha could only stare at her in shock. For how long was their relationship kept a secret from her? „How long did you feel like this about him?“ She grew angry for being held in the dark that long. „All of this started a little over six months ago…“ The girls head hung low as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Looking at her hand she noticed a little mark on her ring finger looking over at Ivar she saw the same small mark on the same finger. „You’re thinking about marriage…“ She gasped quietly taking a step back from her sister. „I accept your decision, but I do not support it. Though I will give you my blessing only because I haven’t seen you happy like this in ages. You are my little sister and I love you and I want you to be loved. As much as I don’t like Ivar, I have to say that he truly seems to love you and care for you.“ Smiling widely the girl hugged her sister tightly, throwing her arms around her. „Thank you!“ She repeated those words until she turned to Ivar grinning at him shyly.

Ivar walked over to her cupping her cheek before he kissed her forehead and leaned his against hers. „I told it would work out somehow, my love. May the gods forbid anything would part us until we both are on our way to dine with the gods in Valhalla.“

Lagertha couldn’t fight the smile as she watched the both of them. Even though she disliked Ivar, she was certain he would treat her right. Maybe even better than Ragnar treater her. She could tell in his smile, in his eyes, in every action towards her sister, that he adored her.

[myocsfanfictions]

Under the Devil’s Eye

MASTERLIST

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

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Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This pained her heart gravely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A raven...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

Taglist: @g-cf2020 @ugh-whytho

If you'd like to be add to the Taglist, please don't hesitate to let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a heart ♥️ a comment and reblog!

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ OC chart for Thyra

This is my oc chart for my oc Thyra! She will be the main character for my upcoming Vikings story! I’m still wondering if I should post the story on here as well, please let me know what you guys think! I hope you guys like her!

This was my first time doing something like this! I’m definitely going to be doing this for other oc’s of mine 🤗

Feel free to send in some asks or questions that you have for this story! I would love to answer them 🫶🏻

[eu-nicola]

vikings x fem!oc

It was going to be with reader but I needed to give it a name

my first language isn’t English and I didn't correct this

summary: vikings brothers have a sister who can control dragons and has powerful magic (anon request)

The baby Freyja had been born with an eye the same as that of a snake with a different color and pupil shape, it was thought that it was because of her ancestors and that it was a way of proving that in the future she was going to be a strong and powerful as her father was. And they weren’t wrong.

In one of Ragnar's trips he found a somewhat strange egg, larger than a normal one with scales and green in color, he took it and took it to his sweet daughter, this was going to be the compensation gift for being gone so long. The day her father returned home the little girl was playing away from everyone while they were looking for her, she didn't care and continued with her game because she thought it was funny how she could move the twigs in the air and throw them far away she even try to try with a big stone but it was too big for someone so tiny.

When they finally found her, her mother didn't realize what she was doing, she just told her it was time to stop playing and took her inside so she could see her father, he welcomed her with open arms and a kiss on the cheek. When the girl began to ask him a thousand questions about where he had been he immediately smiled and took out his gift, Freyja was surprised to see her new gift, it was beautiful for her.

Over time the girl realized that it was not a normal egg and saw a small dark green dragon come out of there, just like its shell, she loved this but she did not want to tell anyone because it was her secret, it was her dragon and if she said so maybe they would want to take it from her and she didn't want to, so she decided to hide it in a cave that she had seen once with her father and brothers not so far from the place but that no one ever went to.

Months passed and even in such a short time the dragon had grown immensely, Freyja, only 6 years old, escaped every day without anyone seeing her and brought the dragon something to eat, she always convinced a prisoner to follow her and she took them there for the dragon she had called "Arrax", certainly she was never afraid to take a prisoner because she knew that they couldn't do anything to her because she had her dragon taking care of her.

One morning Freyja was trying to get a prisoner and escape but for the first time her brothers saw her and instead of telling her something they just followed her to the cave with the prisoner being sure that the man was not going to do something before they killed but it was not necessary because they were surprised when they saw the dragon eat the man in one bite. Immediately the girl noticed the presence of her brothers and smiled at them as if what she had done was a little game. "brothers", the little girl yelled, she came to hug them and at that moment Freyja introduced Arrax to them and she tell them that he was a good pet and very pretty, when her half-brother Bjorn wanted to push her away, she immediately made him fly away the air raising it as she had once done with that twig but now she had been able to do it with it.

"Don't try to take me away from Arrax again." she told them.

At first everyone was so surprised at the beast that even they who are not afraid of anything for a moment were afraid of the dragon. For now no one was going to say anything but maybe in the future when his sister became a woman they would be able to use the dragon for their own purposes. Without speaking they all looked at each other and it seemed that they agreed even Freyja herself that she was already eager to ride the dragon and feed it with her enemies.

[thyshadowwriter]

Lost & Found. Chapter 13.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: making amends is difficult, but some help is always welcome.

A\n: I decided to do this one with Aslaug and Ivar POV. Love a mama bear 🙂

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @pieces-by-me @luvmeijii @fairypitou

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Aslaug POV:

Her sons left to train early in the morning, which gave the queen some time to think. She took notice of how Ivar was more sullen and irritable, being more silent than usual. Ivar was a moody person, but he hid his sadness poorly from her. Ivar was the person she loved the most, seeing something upsetting him made her restless.

This time, Aslaug knew very well what was making Ivar sad, even if he didn’t outright say it. He was missing Revna. She never showed up again after that day, Asalug never even heard of her since, not from Ivar, Ubbe nor any of the slaves. She could very well have vanished from Kattegat entirely for all she knew.

For a while, Aslaug hoped that whatever interest Ivar had in Revna would wane with the absence, but that didn’t seem to happen. That girl was the cause of his sudden sadness just as she was the cause of his joy, like the seer said to her and it terrified Aslaug. Of course she wanted Ivar to have love, she wanted him to be happy, but there was a part of her that considered the possibility that would never be the case. Just how many marriages she knew were out of love? Certainly not hers. Ragnar never loved her, he wanted her to breed and if not for that, she would just be another of the many women he fucked. She tried to gain his love, but that was for Lagertha only; she tried to search for comfort in the Harbard’s arms, but that didn’t work out for her. She would rather Ivar didn’t go through any of that because the pain was blinding and never truly healed.

But if the Gods willed it, there was nothing she could do. For as much as she wished Ivar would just forget about Revna, seeing his beloved son sad was something she could not bear. He already suffered enough as it was, if she would bring him some happiness, Aslaug would do everything in her power to keep the girl close.

She left her house shortly before her sons just like she did for her walks, but this time she decided to pay a visit to her old friends and their new daughter.

Ivar POV:

Ivar was angry for having argued with Revna but more than that, he missed her. He never had someone that cared for what he had to say and enjoyed his company, no one other than his mother or Floki would willingly spend time with him, no one other then them treated him like he wasn’t a burden and a mark of shame; Ivar felt that she listened to him and he didn't want to give that up. It gave him a bit more confidence that Revna hadn't outright dismissed him when he last spoke to her. That gave him hope that maybe she didn’t hate him entirely and their friendship was salvageable.

For now, however, he still had the Sigurd issue to deal with. He knew it was pointless to try to get anything out of him, but he didn’t have to. All he had to do was get Sigurd at the right time and never a better one than training time.

The brothers went to training and things proceeded as usual. Hvitserk always looked like he was having a good time when training, Ubbe always paying attention to what they were doing and Sigurd pretending Ivar didn’t exist.

As they progressed, it came the time to train against each other. Each brother went a round against each other, but when it came the time for Ivar and Sigurd, which usually was skipped since their tensions, Ivar didn't let that pass:

“Won’t you fight with me, Sigurd?”

“Why would I fight a cripple? There’s no point to it.”

“Why don't you try it?”

“There's no reason for it. Cripples don't go to battle.”

“Then there should be no problem for you. Or are you afraid, Sigurd? Are you afraid of me?”

Sigurd turned silent for a while. Hvitserk too was silent, he never liked to get between their fights and whenever one was about to start he became quiet enough one could forget he was even there at all. It was always Ubbe that deescalated the arguments, though even for him it was becoming harder each year.

“You don’t come, because you’re scared of me. You know you cannot beat me.”

Sigurd smirked and leaving his shield behind he went at Ivar full of confidence with his axe. Ivar quickly blocked, the two kept on their ‘training’ but the force each of them used was way too much for just a train and both their oldest brothers watched in dead silence. Hvitserk was almost frozen in place as he waited for Ubbe to put a stop to it before they killed each other while Ubbe watched each and every movement with wide eyes.

Next they knew, both Ivar and Sigurd were on the ground, their weapons left behind in favor of their fists. It was somewhat of a relief for Ubbe and Hvitserk as they couldn’t kill each other as easily with their hands as they could with their weapons. Ubbe gave them a time to settle their differences, before putting a stop to it.

“Enough you two. You are not children anymore, stop this.” Spoke Ubbe authoritatively as he grabbed Ivar by his clothes to pry him away from Sigurd, both of them bloody and covered in mud.

Aslaug POV:

Aslaug reached Floki’s home. The boatbuilder was the first one she saw, he was carefully choosing the trees but he instantly took notice of her.

“Floki.”

“Aslaug. It’s been long enough.”

“It's true. The years passed too fast.”

“Or too slow.”

Aslaug smiled, but that didn’t reach her eyes. In a way, her sons grew up apparently in the blink of an eye, in the other, the years were dragging and lonely for her.

“Has Ivar been here recently?”

“It has been a while.”

“I'll be straight to the point. I've noticed Ivar became close to the girl you adopted, who is she?”

Floki was always one to not tell the entire truth and Aslaug could feel he was hiding crucial information about that girl. She was sure something was really off with that matter because Floki would never bring an outsider to his home.

“Helga brought her from the last raid and has been teaching her since.”

“Is she a Christian?”

“No. She wouldn't be here otherwise.”

Floki’s face twitched slightly. Even after all those years he still hated the Christians with the same fire. It was good to hear she wasn't one of them, but not precisely a relief.

Aslaug wouldn't ask the why of her presence, that was pretty clear. After Angrboda’s death, Helga had been slowly losing her mind, her grief was obvious to anyone that met her before and as her fertile years passed, Aslaug could only imagine her desperation for another child grew more than what she could handle.

“She must be a curious creature if both Helga and Ivar took a liking to her. I would like to see her.”

Aslaug wasn't really requesting as much as she was politely informing, both of them knew it, Floki looked at her oddly, but didn’t object.

“She’s with Helga.”

Floki pointed towards his house, watching curiously as Aslaug made her way. She soon saw Helga sitting with the girl on the bench, teaching her with the runes.

“Aslaug.” Helga greeted her, surprised to say the least.

“Helga. I see that you're teaching the girl.”

“I am. Revna is very dedicated and learned very fast. Ivar helped her a lot as well.” Helga answered proudly, holding the girl by her shoulders.

Aslaug had her attention on the girl, almost ignoring Helga. The girl unnerved her. At first glance, other than her obvious different appearance and shorter stature, she was like any other girl her age, yet there was something off with her that the queen couldn’t put her finger on. Aslaug wanted to believe it was her concern with Ivar’s happiness clouding her judgement, but her gut instinct screamed otherwise.

“Surely she must be grateful for the opportunity the Gods gave her.” Aslaug said, her eyes not leaving the girl and equally, the girl looked back at her curiously and cautiously.

“She adapted well. Floki wants her to attend to the sacrifices so she can ask for the Gods' blessings.”

“It’s only appropriate. If they choose her to be your daughter, they’ll accept her offerings.”

Aslaug replied to Helga, but her attention was still on the girl. The next she spoke was clearly addressed to Revna with just a hint of an order.

“I’m sure Ivar will greatly appreciate you engaging in our ways. He’s very devout and you two seem to have gotten along well, am I right?”

“Yes… I think. I hope.”

“So do I. The Gods may look favorably at you, in which case, I trust I’ll see you with Ivar more frequently.”

“If he wishes. Ivar is well now. He does not… need my visit anymore.”

“He has invited you to our home, that’s not to be taken lightly. Our families have been friends for years and he seems to want to be your friend. Wouldn’t you want that?”

“I… yes. I would.”

“That’s great. I’m sure Ivar will speak to you soon.” Aslaug said with a faux smile that was mostly condescending before turning her attention to Helga “Maybe they’ll make good friends.”

Aslaug didn’t want to break the old friendship she had with Helga, it was the sole reason she didn’t take the girl to live in her home with Ivar for as long as he pleased. She and Helga did some catching up, to which the girl remained dead silent.

When Aslaug returned home and saw Ivar and Sigurd dirty and bloody, she knew she made the right call. Later that day she gently nudged Ivar to go talk with the girl. She was certain things would work out for him.

Ivar POV:

Early in the morning Ivar headed to Floki's home wanting to catch up with Revna. Ivar wasn't one to give up, but having his mother's incentive gave him more courage.

This time, Ivar didn't make an effort to hide his presence as he saw Revna who quickly took notice of him. She waited for him and when he was close enough she saw the bruising on his face, she kneeled closer to him and moved her hand to reach his face, Ivar waited expectantly for her touch, but she stopped before that.

“Ivar, what happened?”

“It's nothing to worry about.” Ivar answeredf nonchalantly, with a smile nonetheless.

“But… you are hurt.”

“It’s just a bruise from training. No need to worry.”

She looked at him concerned and not entirely convinced and it didn't fail to make Ivar feel cocky.

“Does it matter to you if I get hurt?”

“You were bad to me. Does not mean I wish you hurt.”

“I was bad to you?”

“Yes! You argued for nothing.”

From anyone else, Ivar wouldn't tolerate such insolence, but Revna had that annoyed expression that he couldn't honestly take seriously.

“You hid things from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You met with Sigurd and didn't say a thing about it.”

“I did! Didn't know he was your brother! How would I?!”

For all Revna was reserved, she sure got annoyed fast and Ivar found it entertaining. 

“Sit down with me, I want to talk with you.”

“You do not have to say anything to me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

“Why?”

“Just sit down and listen to what I have to say then make up your mind. If you don’t like it, I will let you go.” He wouldn’t, but it was enough that she believed otherwise.

She considered his proposition, and while she clearly was still guarded, she sat down.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I blamed you for things you didn’t know and were never at fault. It wasn't warranted.”

“But… Why are you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at you. I should not have said that to you.”

“You were. Because of your brother.”

“You’re right. And because you didn’t tell me.”

“I did not know.”

“You should have told me anyway”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what friends should do.”

That made her look at him oddly, like she didn't understand what he said.

“Are we friends?”

“I thought so. Or were  you just with me out of pity?”

“No. I like to be with you.”

“Then you should have told me you met someone new. It is what friends should do, don’t you think?”

“I do not know. Never stayed this long anywhere.”

She answered him very casually, butIvar's curiosity was piqued by Revna’s statement. For the moment he decided to not press her.

“Why were you angry? That I met your brother?”

Ivar breathed deeply. He wasn’t comfortable talking about his relationship with his brothers, but sooner or later she would come to know, either from him or others, he would rather she knew through him.

“I’m not like my brothers. I’m a cripple, they do not see me the same.”

“But… They are your brothers. It should not matter.”

It was when it struck him just how unaware of things she truly was. She looked at him just as confused as she did when she first saw him, waiting for him to explain like he did when teaching her.

“You don’t understand. Cripples are left in the woods to die. I am alive because my mother saved me. But I am not the same as my brothers.”

Ivar gauged Revna’s reaction as she seemed to consider what he just said. It took her a little while to say anything.

“I am happy you live. I like meeting you.”

She said that in such a light hearted way, Ivar was without breath. He felt his face a little warm as she smiled kindly at him and he had to look away. Nobody ever said that about him, much less with such honesty and Ivar was left speechless. He took a moment to regain his composure.

“Then it is set. We are friends.”

“Will you argue with me?”

“No, but you  have to promise me that you will not hide things from me again.”

“Like what?”

“You let me decide that. What do you say?”

“Alright. We are friends then!” She said in such a chipper way Ivar could only smile at her. Before he forgot, he searched in a pocket inside his thick vest and reached his hand out to her, revealing a couple of tiny, yellow flowers tied together just like the ones she had liked so much.

She lit up at seeing the little flowers, joyful like he missed seeing from her. She reached to take them, but stopped midway, her smile fading as she looked cautiously at him.

“Take It. It's for you.” Ivar reassured her.

She tentatively reached for the flowers and gently took them from his hands, twirling them in her fingers, entertained like a child.

“Would you allow me?” Ivar asked, gesturing to the flowers and then her hair.

Revna eyed him curiously, but nodded nonetheless.

Ivar took the flowers from her hand and carefully arranged them among her braids. When he was done, he caressed the long locks of hair on his way back. It was a beautiful har, so full of curves and waves he couldn’t help but feel enthralled by it and how the flowers contrasted like gold on it.

Revna giggled at him, hiding her face a bit out of embarrassment and knowing that she was happy to be with him was a strange experience but it gave him a special kind of confidence.

Aslaug POV:

As she predicted, Revna was back with Ivar, playing hnefatafl. Ivar was completely taken with the girl, looking with bright eyes to her and the tiny yellow flowers on her hair, he didn't pay attention to anything nor anyone else and he was smiling, truly smiling and not just pretending or being sarcastic. He had a joy so free of the weight he carried that Aslaug had never seen before.

Ivar sat close to the girl, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers as he waited for her turn. Occasionally, he caressed her face and pointed out something in the game. That didn't fail to make her shy and awkward and he apparently enjoyed it.

Aslaug would not say anything about it, she knew Ivar would be defensive and he couldn't see things Aslaug did, but it was clear to her and as much as she wanted to protect Ivar, it pleased her that he was happy. For as long as she was alive, Aslaug would do everything in her power to keep Ivar happy. If he wanted that girl's company, then so be it. For her favorite son, she could overlook her discomfort with that stranger.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 3 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: The battle against the saxon forces is about to occur, so Ivar wants to inspect the grounds. Liv and Ivar are having an intimate moment.

Warnings: Language, light smut

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl

Liv watches the landscape passing to their left and right with an alert gaze. They are on their way to Wessex to bring King Ecbert to justice. Again and again, Liv feels the youngest Ragnar's son's look on her, but she tries to ignore it.

"He stares at you all the time," Sven whispers to her, and Liv looks to the other boat, where Ivar immediately averts his eyes. "His gaze is like that of an animal seeing its prey."

Liv looks at her most loyal companion. "Are you jealous, Sven?" she asks, amused, and he shakes his head.

"I'm not saying that… Just that somehow he seems a little off to me."

"So are we. Do you think my brother or Ubbe and Hvitserk trust us? Probably not," she says, steering the boat slightly to the left. "I know, my brother. He probably doesn't trust me as far as he can throw me. He knows what our motives usually are. But this time, it's different. It's something personal!"

Sven looks at Ivar again and then lets it go. Liv is right. Probably no one trusts them.

As night falls, Liv begins to sing to herself.

My mother told me Some day I would buy Galleys with good oars and Sails to distant shore

Stand up high on the prow Noble bark I steer Steady course for the havens Hew many foe-men Hew many foe-men

In the second verse, Sven joins in, and Liv looks at him with a grin. In the third verse, everyone joins in, and Liv gets goosebumps.

When the song dies down, and Liv only sings lightly to herself, her gaze wanders to the boat next to them, and she notices Ivar looking at her. She holds his gaze and then smiles.

When they finally dock, they continue on foot. Liv walks next to Hvitserk er and chats with him. He actually seems quite nice.

"Why are you helping us anyway? I thought you only fought for reward," he says suddenly, looking at Liv. "And Ragnar wasn't your father."

Liv smiles, but honestly, this time. "No, he wasn't. But I did know him. In the ten years you didn't see him, I saw him often. Did you know he was responsible for me ending up with the Ravenblade?" Hvitserk looks at her in surprise.

"How so?"

"Well, I grew up with Lagertha and my father. My father was not a good man. He beat mother, and he beat me too. Lagertha had lost her will when Ragnar left her for your mother. I probably have Bjorn to thank for that being the worst thing my father did to me."

Liv lifts her tunic a little, and Hvitserk recognizes a long scar on her side.

"Björn protected me, but anger was building up inside me. Anger at my father for being such an abusive person and anger at my mother for allowing him to do such things to me. All I ever heard was what a fierce shieldmaiden my mother was, but it didn't look like that. I have never forgiven her for that. So when Björn decided to go with Ragnar, I was even angrier. Angry at Björn. But Ragnar came to see me before he left. He promised me that when the time was right, I could leave Hedeby. And so it was… He had contacts with the Ravenblade, and they came for me when I was 12 years old."

Still amazed that Liv is revealing so much to him, he listens intently.

"And how did you come to be the leader?" Now Liv laughs again.

"The Ravenblade trained me. Of course, I had training with Lagertha before that, but what I learned from them is worlds apart. I honestly don't remember what it was exactly, but suddenly I was face-to-face with my mentor. He raised me and trained me. He was the leader before me, and now I had to fight him. I later learned that when the leader of the Ravenblade takes in a ward, that tradition wants you to fight your ward when the time comes. This is where you show whether you have trained them properly."

"And you killed him?"

"I'm here, aren't I? It's part of the test. When you kill someone you love, it destroys the last bit of empathy you have in you. So you become the perfect weapon. And the perfect leader."

"That sounds kind of… extreme."

"Maybe it is. That was three years ago," she says, shrugging her shoulders.

Hvitserk and Liv continue talking, and of course, Ivar watches his brother and the young warrior closely. A stab of jealousy hits him, and he squeezes his eyes shut as Björn stops them all.

One of their scouts comes riding towards them. He tells them that the great Saxon army is a day away from them, prompting Björn to set up camp here. But it seems Ivar has other plans.

"You can set up camp," he calls to his brothers, and Liv looks at him with interest. "I want to see the place where we fight."

"What are you talking about?" asks Björn, looking at his younger brother.

"They will expect us to fight in a certain way. Why should we do that? Why don't we plan to fight in a different way and surprise them?" he asks, and Liv likes his way of thinking.

Björn waves his brothers closer to Ivar's chariot, and Liv also stands next to it. None of the brothers seem to mind.

"Our warriors will not understand what is happening," Hvitserk reflects. "We fight with the shield wall. That's how we fight."

"But we have a bigger army now. And they have a bigger army, too, Hvitserk. They don't fight the same."

"It's too late to change that now," Sigurd interjects.

Liv takes a deep breath and listens intently to the brothers' conversation. They really can't work well together.

"Who are you to say such things? Shut your mouth!"

"We are brothers! Together!" Björn now says firmly. "Why do you want to change tactics?"

"Do you want to win, brother?" Ivar asks. He knows he has Björn with him. For a moment, the two look at each other. Then Ivar rolls his eyes. "Listen… Come with me, Björn. Let's survey the battlefield. Maybe it's better if we don't keep the battlefield on a plain but expand it to hills and a few miles further, and we need their landscape. They have only hills and forests."

The brothers all look eagerly at Björn. He has the last word.

"What do you say?"

"If it works, it's a good plan. If it doesn't, it's a bad plan."

A man brings Björn a horse and he sits up.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Björn, and then Liv steps onto the chariot.

"Me," she says casually and Ivar looks at her in surprise.

"What are you doing?" he asks and Liv raises an eyebrow.

"I'm coming with you."

"Liv…" says Björn warningly, but she just looks at her brother.

"What? Six eyes see more than four. Let me help." Björn takes a deep breath and then rides off, and Ivar follows him.

In the evening, Liv is sitting by the fire when Sven sits beside her. He holds out a cup to her, and she accepts it.

"Thank you," she says.

"What are we going to do after this? When we have killed this king and avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok?" he asks, and Liv shoves a piece of bread into her mouth.

"The thing we always do?" she asks him and he smiles at her.

"Fighting is all good, but I'm more the quiet fighter than the one on the battlefield."

Liv smiles and takes a sip of her mead. "You've done well for yourself, though."

Sven laughs too, but then Liv notices in the corner of her eye Ivar creeping towards his tent. She sits up and follows him with her gaze.

"Liv…" says Sven, but she gets up and follows Ragnar's son into his tent.

The latter is pulling himself up onto a chair and straightening his legs. When he catches sight of Liv, his eyes grow wide for a moment.

"I'm impressed," she then says and walks towards him. "You really have strong strategic thinking. You're smart. I like that," she says, brushing her blonde hair out of her face.

"Um… Thanks, I guess," Ivar replies, then fills two mugs with mead and holds one out to Liv. She accepts it and then sits down beside him.

"You are much smarter than your brothers…. At least when it comes to tactics. You should take advantage of that."

"I know… They always think straight. But at least Björn listens to me."

Liv takes another sip and looks Ivar in the eye again. Then she stands up and sits on his lap. She takes his face in her hands, and her grey eyes meet his piercing blue ones.

"They don't give you enough credit. You are worth much more than you might think, Ivar," she whispers to him. Then she leans down and kisses him. When she pulls away from him again, he looks at her in amazement.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, and Liv smiles.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this? You bring me affection, but I don't know why. You're an incredible woman. And I'm just a cripple."

"Don't say that. There's so much more to you. And I don't know what it is, but something about you draws me in."

Again Liv leans in and kisses him. A little more demanding this time. She strokes his muscular chest and shoulders. She runs her tongue over his lower lip, and he opens his mouth. Their tongues dance together, and Liv can't suppress a smile.

Then she runs her tongue along his stomach and down to his trousers. As if by reflex, Ivar grabs her wrists and stops her. Liv raises her eyebrows in surprise.

"We've been here before," she smirks, and Ivar slowly lets go of her wrists.

Then she stands up, unbuckles her belt, and lets it fall to the floor. Ivar follows her with his gaze as she walks towards the bed and pulls her tunic over her head. He sees her back, which is covered in tattoos and some scars to boot.

She is wearing a bandeau that covers her breasts and holds them in place. She sits down on his bed, covered with furs, and slides back a little. Then she beckons him to her with her index finger.

Ivar hesitates momentarily but then pushes himself off the chair and crawls to the bed. He pushes himself up with his arms and slides towards Liv. He examines her body, which is simply incredible.

She is muscular but also defined by all the training and fighting. He spots a long purple scar on her left side, briefly runs his fingers over it, and Liv flinches.

"What's that?" he whispers, and she looks down momentarily.

"An old memory," she only replies, probably not wanting to elaborate.

Then he looks into her eyes again and sinks into the grey eyes that look at him in the same way. He lies down beside her, and their faces are only inches apart.

"You are beautiful," he then breathes, and Liv smiles. Warmth rises in her, and she doesn't usually know such feelings.

She never thought a man could throw her off the track like Ivar. He strokes her stomach again and slides closer to kiss her again. The feeling is just incredible. Not like with Margrethe, but really good. Her lips are soft, and Ivar's desire grows with every kiss.

He caresses her soft skin and kisses her demandingly. He feels Liv unbutton his tunic and pulls it over his head. Briefly, she looks at him, and his upper body is just incredible. From all the years on his arms, muscles have naturally formed.

Then she strokes his belly with her cold fingertips as light as a feather, which makes him wince briefly, yet the son of Ragnar sees how Liv reacts to his body. He pulls her to him and kisses her. Then Liv turns them both and sits Ivar astride.

Her hands rest on his chest. Then she reaches behind her back, undoes the button holding the bandeau, and lets it fall. She is so perfect. It seems as if the gods had carved her themselves. Ivar doesn't let this go on for long, though. He turns her again and leans over her, stroking her cheek briefly.

"I want you, Liv. You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers, and she feels his breath on her face.

Liv closes her eyes in pleasure as Ivar explores her body with his hands, kissing her repeatedly. Ivar climbs over her half-naked body and starts kissing her all over, which earns him a satisfied moan from Liv. Then he unbuttons the button of her trousers and pulls them down so that the young woman is completely naked. He looks at her briefly and takes it all in before looking into her eyes.

Then she turns with Ivar again so that he is lying under her. Slowly Liv pulls down his trousers without breaking eye contact with Ivar. As she throws the trousers aside, she looks at his deformed legs, which makes Ivar visibly anxious. Then Liv looks him in the eye again and smiles.

"You're perfect just the way you are, Ivar," she whispers, and he pulls her to him again.

He kisses her gently at first, then more and more demanding. He turns them both around again, so he has the upper hand. Liv feels his hardness against her middle, and now she, too, becomes slightly nervous.

With slightly trembling lips, she looks at Ivar. It's not Liv's first time, but it's the first time it's even remotely meant anything, which makes her all the more nervous.

He winces briefly as she reaches down and takes his hardness in her hand. Ivar kisses her again, but the feeling of her hand down there is just overwhelming. When she has placed it that far, Liv looks at him approvingly, and he slides slowly but firmly into her.

A tentative moan comes from her; for Ivar, the feeling is simply outstanding. He can barely hold himself up, so he pulls back a little and then penetrates her again, but not so gently this time. Liv opens her mouth in surprise and then slaps him on the shoulder.

"Hey!" she says firmly and looks at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles, now softening again. Slowly, eyes always on Liv to stop immediately if he should hurt her again, Ivar starts moving again.

And in her eyes, he finds only approval. And lust. He can read that in her gaze, for her grey eyes are like a storm.

He braces himself right and left against her and penetrates a little deeper, and Liv closes her eyes with pleasure before moaning. She throws her head back, and Ivar moans her name softly. She is giving him so much now that she doesn't even notice.

Not only that, he is really having sex for the first time, and then with the woman he wants, but he can do it. Carefully he takes her ankle and puts her leg on his shoulder to penetrate even more profoundly, and Liv looks at him, surprised but not averse. Suddenly he notices her tightening around his member.

"Liv?" he asks sceptically, not sure what that means, but she still has her eyes closed.

"Just keep doing that," she breathes and he does as he's told. And then she moans loudly and tears her eyes open.

A wave of pleasure rolls over her, and she presses her fingernails into Ivar's back. Then she slumps a little and breathes heavily. He has done it. He has satisfied Liv.

Confidence grows in Ivar. Then he looks at the woman of his desire. She nods.

"Go on," she whispers, and Ivar doesn't have to be told twice.

Still careful not to hurt her, Ivar begins to move faster. Liv tries to help where she can, and he can feel her. A little later, his body also tenses, and he pours himself into her.

For a moment, only their heavy breathing can be heard. Then Ivar wipes the sweat from his forehead, pulls out of her but stays on top of her. He looks at her beautiful face from top to bottom. He notices that she is trembling and then sees that Liv has closed her eyes.

All the exertion and sex with him must have taken more out of her than she thought, so he reaches for the furs and spreads them over them both. When she opens her eyes again, she looks at him.

"That was… That was amazing," he says and Liv can't help but chuckle.

"Liv, I…" he begins, but before he can finish speaking, the tent entrance is opened, and Hvitserk and Ubbe come in.

"Ivar…", Hvitserk says, but then he notices that his brother seems busy. "I uh… Sorry," he says quickly and turns away, and Ubbe does the same.

Ivar pushes himself off Liv and lies down beside her. Liv quickly gets out of bed and puts on her tunic. It is long enough to cover everything essential. She picks up her boots and puts her trousers over her arm.

"It's all right. I'll leave you to discuss your things," she says quickly and Ubbe and Hvitserk turn back around. The young woman approaches Ivar once more, presses a passionate kiss to his lips and then leaves the tent. The two brothers look after her with open mouths.

"What do you want?" Ivar then asks, annoyed that they have driven Liv away.

[mads-weasley]

Ch. 13: Fevered Truths

Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Eira Torsteinsdottir (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Summary: Eira confronts her shifting feelings for Hvitserk as she battles lingering memories, her illness, and an unexpected trust in the man who has stayed by her side.

Word Count: 1.6k

Flames. They licked the edges of her vision, eating away at the trees and crackling like the hiss of a serpent. Among the smoke, a battlefield stretched before her, and its cacophony of clashing steel and dreams made her head pound. 

What battle was this? Who was fighting?

She stood frozen in the center of it, barefoot on the icy ground as the fighting raged around her. Something warm trickled down her arm…blood, but she couldn’t tell if it was hers. 

Eira stepped through the battle, untouched by the warriors as if she were invisible to them, like a Valkyrie choosing men to go to Valhalla. From the chaos came a familiar cry.

“Eira!”

She spun toward the sound, and her heart stopped when she saw him. Vali. He was fighting just ahead of her, his axe swinging powerfully as he struck one enemy after another. Just the sight of his dark eyes and short, braided hair brought tears to her eyes. 

He was alive!

“Vali!” she screamed.

He looked up at her, his fearsome expression softening for a fleeting moment into relief, recognition…but then it twisted into something else: horror. Eira’s legs felt frozen in place as she watched a blade pierce through his stomach, its sharp point gleaming crimson. Vali’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his knees buckling. Time slowed as he fell, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud that echoed in her ears.

Then she saw who held the shining blade.

Ivar the Boneless.

He stood over Vali’s body with a cruel smirk as he leaned on his crutch. Blood dripped from the sword onto the snow, staining it red. Slowly raising the blade to his mouth, he licked it before smiling wider, his teeth stained pink.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

Then the scene shifted again. Vali’s body disappeared as if swallowed by the earth, and the battlefield faded into a black void. Eira spun around, her heart hammering in her chest, and she jumped roughly at the terrifying face before her. She tried to back away, to run from him, but her feet wouldn’t move.

“You think you can escape this?” Ivar asked, tilting his head. “You can’t run from me.”

His sword plunged into her stomach before she could scream, the sharp, hot pain stealing the air from her lungs. She gasped, looking down at the blade protruding from her, then looked back up to see Ivar’s face was only inches from hers. His lips twisted into a sneer.

“You will never escape me,” he hissed. Then he shoved her back, and she fell, his menacing figure wisping away into darkness.

Eira’s eyes flew open, her breath hitching in her throat as her hand flew to her stomach. The room was dark, lit only by the dying embers in the hearth, but it took a moment for her to remember where she was. Her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself. Her body trembled beneath the weight of the furs, and the ache in her stomach was still there, phantom pain from the dream.

Her gaze darted around the room, and then she saw him. Slumped in the chair beside her bed was Hvitserk, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted at an awkward angle. His mouth hung slightly open and soft snores escaped him. His steady breathing was the only sound in the room, a quiet rhythm that anchored her to reality. 

Eira swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to shake the lingering images of the dream. Despite her efforts, Vali’s horrified face remained in the forefront of her mind, and it tore at her heart. She’d tried not to think about exactly how he’d died, tried not to picture it, but her dream, no, nightmare, destroyed that. Her only comfort was that he was feasting in Valhalla with his father, and her father for that matter. Vali’s father, Bodil, was their mother’s first husband and had been killed shortly after he was born. It was where he’d gotten his brown eyes and tar-black hair from. He and Eira were opposites in appearance, but they were brother and sister, through and through. 

She opened her eyes again and allowed her gaze to drift to Hvitserk. He looked uncomfortable, his taller frame crammed into the too-small chair, but there was something strangely peaceful about him in sleep. His usual guarded expression was gone, replaced by something softer, almost boyish. She’d never seen him like this before. Vulnerable.

It brought a small smile to her face.

A sense of peace washed over Eira as she watched him, and her guilt over their unnamed association seemed to fade. Here he was taking care of her with nothing to gain, no ulterior motive, no deception, and no power play behind his actions. Glancing over at Vali’s carved wolf on the nightstand, she thought back to the nightmare. Hvitserk was not Ivar. He was not cruel, manipulating, or deceiving. He was…Hvitserk. He was his own man outside of his brother's shadow. One with a heart, a conscience, and who wanted to right his wrongs.

Surely Vali would see that. Surely he would understand? Eira prayed to the gods he would.

Her thoughts began to spiral from there. Why was he still here? Why had he stayed? She didn’t know when her feelings toward him had started to shift. Hatred had been easy in the beginning…he was Ivar’s brother, and Ivar had taken everything from her. Hatred gave way to annoyance when he insisted on meddling in her life, showing up at the most inconvenient times.

But lately, that annoyance had faded, replaced by something more complicated. She didn’t hate him anymore. She didn’t even dislike him. If anything, she found his company…bearable. Sometimes even comforting.

Eira swallowed hard, her chest tightening as she realized just how much her feelings had changed. When had this happened? How had this happened?

She didn’t know, but she did know that she trusted him…or was at least starting to.

As she took a deep breath, something tickled her throat, and a harsh cough broke free from her chest before she could stop it. The sound was sharp as broken glass, and it rattled her entire sore body. The pain in her throat flared, and she winced, holding a hand to her throat. It felt as if the cough had torn through her insides, leaving an aching trail behind it.

The sudden noise sliced through the room’s stillness, and Eira froze, realizing too late that it had woken Hvitserk. His eyes fluttered open, confused and bleary at first, before they focused on her.

“Eira?” His voice was rough from sleep, and he straightened in the chair, barely concealing a wince from his stiff muscles. 

She gave a weak, half-hearted wave of her hand, trying to dismiss the cough, but it flew to cover her mouth as another fit wracked through her body. She winced, her eyes watering as her body trembled with the strain.

Hvitserk stood quickly and poured a cup of water at the table, his long legs making quick work of closing the distance between them. He crouched beside the bed and helped her sit up against the headboard before holding out the cup. “Here.”

“I’m fine,” Eira managed to croak out, but her voice betrayed her, and she coughed again. After a moment, she avoided his gaze and took the cup from him, their fingers brushing lightly.

His eyes watched her intently as she sipped the cool liquid, allowing her eyes to flutter shut at the relief it offered. When she finished, Hvitserk set the cup aside and slowly reached his hand towards her forehead, as if giving her time to object if she wished. She didn’t, and his cool hand gently pressed against her forehead. A small shiver ran through her at the coolness of his touch.

His shoulders dropped, losing their tension, and his lip twitched into a flicker of a smile as his gaze lowered. “Your fever’s gone,” he said softly.

“Good riddance,” Eira muttered. She peered over at him, her own weakened grin tugging at her lips. “You haven’t killed me yet, Hvitserk, so it seems you’re not a bad healer after all.”

“Don’t worry, there’s still time for that,” he teased, a genuine smile forming as he raised his brow. “I did have a good teacher.”

His fingers twitched as if he hadn’t realized he was still touching her, and Eira caught the brief flash of awkwardness that crossed his features. His eyes darted away quickly, as if suddenly aware of the intimacy of the gesture, and he pulled his hand back with a muttered apology. The familiar comfortable silence momentarily filled the air between them again. Eira chewed at the inside of her cheek as her mind wrestled with itself.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked finally, her voice uncharacteristically timid.

Hvitserk nodded and leaned his elbows on his knees to lean closer. “Sure.”

Eira took a deep breath before replying, thanking the gods it didn’t incite a coughing fit. “Why are you here? Why have you been helping me?”

He stared at her for a few seconds, his brow furrowing and upper lip twitching as his mind attempted to formulate an answer. The stormy look in his eyes told her he was conflicted. 

“I need to prove I’m not Iva-”

“I know you’re not him, Hvitserk,” she interrupted, her voice dropping. “I know that. And I think you do, too.”

Hvitserk let out a quick exhale under his breath and he looked away from her, a split-second, lopsided smirk returning to his expression. But he remained silent.

“Why are you here, Hvitserk?” Eira pressed ever-so gently, her heart racing as she waited for his reply.

He met her eyes at last. “Maybe I want to be,” he muttered, breaking from her gaze and looking down at his wrist to play with his armband.

A/N: message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3