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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

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The Cursed

My Masterlist

Pairing: No specific ones (other than canon Aslaug/Ragnar)

Summary: “I was wondering if you could write a modern reader from like 2020 meeting Ragnar, Auslaug, Largertha, and the Ragnarssons. I was thinking that reader got thrown back in time somehow (if that makes sense) and I don’t mind if it’s romantic or platonic for any of them. And reader meets them all at the same time somehow.”

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None that I can think of

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long anon.

So, I have a horrible sleep schedue atm and I don’t know what words are anymore. Enjoy this fever dream of a fic, thank you for reading.

I do not know much (if anything) about runes, so I apologize in advance. The ones mentioned here are, in order: ᛒ (to mean birth, liberation), ᚨ (Odin, wisdom) and ᚹ (harmony, kinship)

Again, their meaning is just what the sources I handled had on it, and it was just the internet, y’know? I would love a book recommendation on divination in Viking times, if anyone knows of any good one.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla

His head is covered in a dark hood, and though you can see his mouth, the beard withered by age, the man keeps his head lowered and refuses to meet your eye as you enter.

“You’re here with questions.” The man states, playing with a small piece in his hand, flicking it between his fingers like who toys with a coin.

“I always have questions.”

He smiles, the tracing of a scar on his cheek stretching with the movement.

“Mhm. Time curses you, child, so I suggest you make haste and ask.”

“Time curses me?”

He stops playing with the small piece in his hand, tilts his head to the side, “You doubt it?”

“Yes,” You reply emphatically, frowning at him. “There’s no such thing as curses.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Stop answering my questions with more questions.”

“Why should I?”

You bite back a groan at the insufferable man’s smug grin, and try again, “Alright, fine I’m cursed. Should I expect warts on my face? A perpetual dark cloud?”

“Don’t mock me, child.”

You cannot bite back the smile, “Will you curse me if I do?”

He slams with one inked finger the piece he was playing with against the table between you, and you notice it to be a small rectangular piece of what looks like bone, with a small, angular ‘B’ carved on it.

“I told you, time already curses you,” The man sighs, and leans back, leaving you to study the small piece he showed you. “And all souls are cursed, though with a different burden. Knowledge, legacy, indefiniteness, irrelevance, pain, life, time.”

You force your eyes to part from that small piece of bone, and lift your gaze to him, finally relenting.

“I’m listening.”

“No,” He states, resolute. You lift your eyebrows, but the man only smiles again, “You’re learning.”

____

Someone shakes your shoulder, and you groan, both at their insistence you return to the world of the living and at the pain that threatens to split your head in two.

“Get up, the Queen calls for you.”

“The what?” You mutter, sitting up on the hard bed. You open your eyes to find a girl dressed in a heavy-looking dress, with braids keeping her wild hair off her face.

“The Queen, you daft woman,” She insists with a smile, as if you are friends, as if you know her. “Don’t keep her waiting, get up.”

You go through the motions of getting up, only too late realizing the sounds you hear, the voices that reach you, are not familiar at all. Even the sounds that come out of her mouth aren’t familiar.

“How do I-…?” You try speaking your language, but that strange gibberish comes out. You cover your mouth with your hand, wide eyes searching the nothingness, and the girl turns around.

“What’s the matter with you, huh?” She asks, again gibberish, but you understand her.

“This is…this isn’t my home, where-…there’s something wrong,” You turn around, searching the worn wood of the walls for a sign, and in the bed you were sleeping on there’s a small piece of bone. That damn letter ‘B’. Fuck. “I’m insane,” You tell yourself, turning wide eyes to the girl as if she could have any answer, “Wh-Where am I?”

She says nothing, only takes you by the arm and tries guiding you out the door. You have half a mind to let her, but in a frantic movement you reach for the small bone and clasp it tight in your hand before letting her guide you to the longhouse.

She greets a woman that sits with her back straight and her eyes all-seeing on a throne, and leaves you there, alone, before her.

“Your eyes are strange,” The tall woman says, eyes lined with a thick line of black kohl looking over you, focusing on your own eyes. “Come closer.”

You do so, shaking legs carrying you to her, trying with all of your strength not to focus on the thrones behind her.

She grabs your chin with cold fingers, looks deep into your eyes and makes you feel she’s looking into your soul. Invasive, really. If you weren’t so fucking terrified, you might have tried saying something.

“Mother?” A deep voice calls from behind you, but neither you or the woman, the…the Queen move.

“You’ve been touched by the Gods. You’re-…” She stops herself, and lifts her gaze to look over your shoulder and smiles, warm and motherly, “Ah, Ubbe. You talked with your father?”

You turn to meet the piercing blue eyes of a tall man with long hair that trails down his back, shaved sides. His eyes are trained on yours, before he offers his mother a nod.

“Yes. What’s wrong with her?” The man asks, and another man walks in from behind him, biting into an apple and looking you over with a strange sort of detached curiosity. The older man ignores him, and insists, “They say she woke up blabbering about the world being wrong, that she’s gone crazy.”

“She’s not crazy, she’s just…the Gods have touched her eyes.” The Queen states, her hand almost protective when it settles on your shoulder. It somewhat helps you stop shaking.

The tall man, Ubbe, offers you a smile you think in a less threatening-looking man would be comforting, “You’re a friend of the sons of Ragnar, we more than many know of the way the Gods touch our lives. There’s nothing to fear.”

The Queen lowers her voice and speaks directly to you, “We will talk later. You should go with my sons, eat something.”

The man that chews on the apple, leaning one shoulder on a wooden pillar looks at you and offers you a reassuring smile, or an attempt at it anyways, mouth full and all.

You bite down fear, and approach him.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe if they decide to cut off your head just for the hell of it, you’ll wake up. Right?

The men she called Ubbe and Hvitserk guide you through dark and tall halls towards a well lit and ample room where a long table and plenty of food sit.

Two men that were arguing with one another turn to you when you enter, sharing a glance between them and focusing pale eyes on you. The blond of long hair looks you over with curiosity, the hint of empathy in his eyes. The other one, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, so alike the ones of the man they call Ubbe, looks at you like a beast that’s planning on attacking, and it makes your throat dry.

Fuck, you’re really going to die here, aren’t you?

Well, at least you’ll die surrounded by attractive men. That’s heaven to some people, right?

You sit stiffly on the table, and the blond breaks the silence.

“What’s with her?”

Ubbe shrugs, “Mother says the Gods have touched her eyes, that she’s…different than she was last night.”

You turn your gaze to your plate, content that at least the piece of lamb in front of you is familiar. After carefully looking over the men -Princes, you suppose?- and how they eat, you decide picking the small pieces off the bone with your fingers isn’t that inappropriate, apparently, and set to eating.

“What did you do to her?” The blonde presses, tone angrier.

The Prince of short dark hair frowns, “Me? Why would I do something to her, huh?”

“You were with her last night,” His brother doesn’t hesitate in accusing, making the other man grow angrier, “You’re crazy, maybe you made her crazy too.”

You almost want to argue that you’re very much not crazy, thank you very much, but instead just watch with wide eyes as the two brothers start arguing.

You don’t hear most of what they are yelling at one another, but you do notice they all hold their breath when the short-haired one with piercing eyes leans his arms on the table, and seems to drag himself into a standing position.

Your eye the man’s legs, and notice they are bound together, and he can’t lean on them, as if he’s paralyzed.

Standing up doesn’t seam the smartest choice, and the world -strange as this one is- proves you right when he falls back into his chair with a grunt of pain.

The cruelly delighted smile on the blond Prince’s lips unsettles you.

Their ruckus, their argument, is ended when two figures walk through the doors towards the room.

You notice how the Queen passes by her eldest and touches his shoulder with affection, shares a smile with the one they call Hvitserk, and sits at the side of Ivar. You notice Sigurd’s eyes follow her with resentment, with anguish.

You don’t have time to dwell on it, because a tall and imposing man strides his way to you without hesitation, his walk that of either an insane man or a dead one.

The man leans close to you, one hand on the back of your chair, a strange air of deadliness and fragility in his crazed and sad eyes.

“You are a burdened one, or so my wife says,” He spares a fake smile that looks like a grimace to the Queen. He leans even closer to you, mouth by your ear and nose almost pushing into your hair as he breathes, “Is this world the wrong one for you too?”

You speak for the first time since you realized the words leaving your lips were in a language you didn’t know but still understood.

“More than I could say.”

He huffs a breath that could have in another world been a laugh, and leans back, walking confidently to the Queen and sitting at her side.

And so you sit there and eat, and watch and listen as they interact. And so you start feeling a little less insane with each moment you can breathe in of this strange world.

The day goes on, and you don’t wake up. With each passing hour, even if you have no way of counting those, your heart settles, and your breathing grows easier, and you can almost call familiar the life whoever they confuse you with lived.

Night falls, and when you walk the streets towards the place you woke up in, you catch sight of a figure in a small clearing overlooking the hills. The King.

His back is turned to you, and his eyes seem to be focused on the horizon, but he turns his head to the side and calls out your name. It still sounds so strange in these people’s lips.

“Come closer, I won’t hurt you.” He asks, a smile that disappears after a moment on his lips. When you do, his gaze returns ahead, silently telling you to do the same.

In the distance, you see what looks like a figure forming before your eyes. The distant cackle of a raven, and there’s a man over those hills, hooded cloak overing him and a walking stick in his hand.

Even in all the space that separates you, you feel his eye set on you.

The King takes a deep breath, and you have half a mind to ask if he sees him too when he starts, “Between mind and memory, tell me, what would you rather lose?”

You meet the eye of the man in the distance, and two of the ravens that flock around him approach you. You cannot help but follow them with your eyes, craning your head back to watch their black wings and their contrast against the night sky.

The sky that, when the dark wings that for a heartbeat obscured it pass, is a familiar one.

____

You find him, of course you do. You don’t have a choice, it’s either finding that man or accepting you’ve lost your mind. You woke up in a world that, while familiar, it was somehow strange too; after...after knowing of the other one, of the other life.

He welcomes you with the same knowing smile, and this time you find yourself smiling back.

“You return. And with even more questions.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Gods, please don’t start this again,” You snarl, settling on the seat across from him and leaning closer, resting your elbows on your knees. “What…what did I see?”

“I told you that you were going to learn.”

“So a-a lesson?”

“Was it a lesson to you?”

You bit back irritation at the way he continues to answer with more fucking questions, and press, “On what?”

“To each soul a curse means a different thing. You learned that, didn’t you, child?”

You can see clear in your mind’s eye the faces you saw, the people you met, the stories you were granted a glimpse into.

“Knowledge,” You list out, “that was…the seeress, Aslaug. Legacy…legacy was Ubbe, he looks just like his father. Indefiniteness…Hvitserk?”

“He didn’t speak a word, did he? Couldn’t decide if you were the woman he knew or not. Couldn’t decide many things.”

“Pain…pain is Ivar. Irrelevance, his…his brother, Sigurd.”

The man nods, his smile widens.

“And Ragnar…” Your breath stutters past parted lips but your words die.

“Even life can be a curse.” The man finishes for you, and you nod your head dazedly, taking his words, his lesson, in.

You fetch the worn piece of bone from your pocket, trace the strange ‘P’ of the rune with a smile. You woke up with a different one on your bed, in that other world, but this one was the one that accompanied you back.

“And me? How did…how does time curse me?”

“It pulls you in two directions. It forces you to choose.” He answers without hesitation, head still lowered.

You notice he once again holds two runes in his hand, the same one he gave you that day, before all this madness, the angular ‘B’; and another, one that looks like an ‘F’ with an angle to it.

“And what can I choose?”

The man chuckles, finally looking up at you and meeting your gaze with his one eye.

“Between mind and memory, tell me, what would you rather lose?”

____

Soooo yeahhhh. I had fun writing this. That’s what counts, right? I enjoyed my little references to Huginn and Muninn, enjoyed my little ‘surprise bitch, it’s me, the big guy™. Btw, you can go back, y’know?’ at the end there, enjoyed putting this poor reader through that madness lol

I’m so sorry if I dissapointed the anon that requested this, and I’m really sorry if this sucks. I tried lol

Thank you for reading, I love you!

#vikings #vikings imagine

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eivorsjawline · 4 years ago

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WARNING: tw food descriptions and the consumption of food and alcohol, smut...

You and Eivor join one another for a feast. Eivor begins to make moves on you and you begin to pick them up. However, the moment is short when Randvi distrupts the both of you. Eivor returns to meet you in the bedroom feeling defeated, the night turns hot and steamy.

See below: Stonehenge itself, as depicted in Valhalla.

Chapter 3: SOS

Readers POV

The sun began to set and I heard a loud ringing noise in the distance.

“Sounds like it's time for a feast. Shall we join them?” Eivor said holding an arm out for me to grab onto.

I could feel Eivor’s bicep bulge through the layers of clothes she had on. She knew exactly what she was doing. Interest sparked my mind and I began to wonder what lies underneath all the armor and fur.

Eivor led me back to the longhouse where settlers from all parts of the world grouped together to indulge in good food and drink. Music played while laughter and chatter drowned out the tune. Fresh berries and grapes lined the wooden benches and barrels of mead sat not too far from them. The aroma of a stew cooking filled my nostrils.

I let go of Eivor’s arm and she sat down next to me with a mug full of ale. Watching Eivor’s plump lips press against the mug our eyes latched onto one another. Quickly looking away I began to dig into the food in front of me. It had been so long since I last ate anything.

There was a different taste to everything, a fresher one. Untouched by any chemicals that are pumped into the air and soil like the time I truly come from.

“Try this…” Eivor grabbed an exotic berry, getting a firm grip on the sides of my jaw. Opening up my mouth, she placed the berry on the tip of my tongue as the juice ran down from my bottom lip down her thumb.

After chewing and savoring the sweet taste of both the berry and Eivor’s flesh finally, I swallowed. Eivor only gave me a presumptuous smirk, unphased and unapologetic for invading my personal space. Fortunately, I didn't mind one bit.

Being sexy is effortless to her.

She spoke to me with no words. Innate animal instinct and a magnetic attraction began to form between the two of us. Just as I was trying to hold back and deny my deep craving for her, she sucked off the juice that I spilled on her thumb from my mouth. A not so subtle tease coming from her.

Eivors POV

Our flirtatious charades were cut short by an intoxicated Randvi slamming her mug on the bench in front of me.

“Eivor, I need to speak with you… That is if you can find the time.” Randvi said, her eyes glancing over to [y/n].

Gods, not right now...

[y/n] pulled away, distancing herself from me and Randvi with a suspicious look on her face. I excused myself, and Randvi followed just behind me. Finally, we were cutting the corners to the alliance room.

The air grew thicker but the chatter of the longhouse quieted.

“Really, Eivor? You don't even know her and she’s replacing me… I sacrificed everything for you, I gave my everything to you! Your belt buckle couldn’t have waited just a little longer?” Randvi exasperated.

Leaning against the wall, I couldn't think of anything to say. The wound was still fairly fresh but she was wrong.

My body knows her and calls out for her like no one ever before. I couldn't explain the prophecies Valka told me of, it would just hurt Randvi more to know that she's not the one and never was.

“No one is replacing you, Randvi! We haven't even done anything together. We both know our relationship ran its course. How dare you pull me out here like that?” I said with a stern voice, my hands clenched.

“The way you look at her… You never looked at me like that.” Randvi said, her voice weakening.

The awkward silence grew and I didnt know what to say. Knowing she was right, I still tried to defend myself.

“Randvi, I did love you… I-“

Before I could say anything else, Randvi pulled the pledge knife out of the map and chucked it at the wall, barely missing me.

“With that knife we created this. I helped build you, and I will never let you forget that.” Randvi uttered, standing tall before storming off.

Though she was clearly on the verge of tears, I know she would never let me see her weak.

I just hurt everyone around me. Sigurd, my people… Randvi.

Readers POV

After everyone left the longhouse, I found myself alone in Eivor’s bedroom. Feeling conflicted, I longed for nothing more than the silence and the sound of a flickering candle next to my bed side.

What am I doing? I knew this was a bad idea, i should have never involved myself this deeply with the people here.

Eivor…

Randvi, why did she look at me like that? I felt so disgusted with myself afterwards. Letting my loneliness consume me, my anxiety began to tell me I didn't belong here and that I was merely trespassing.

I sat up in bed to see an exhausted Eivor standing by the doorway. She looked disheveled, like she had seen a ghost. I knew the tired expression on her face was not from a long day but the unwanted conversation with Randvi. She sat down on the bed with me and began to take off her cloak, throwing her boots on the ground.

“Eivor… What happened?” I nudged at her shoulder.

Eivor turned and looked at me, her bright blue eyes piercing through my soul as if she was telling me how exhausted she was. Tired of people, tired of explaining herself, and tired of everything that came with being a Jarl. She collapsed onto my chest and I held her there for a moment, stroking her hair and comforting her.

Eivor wrapped her arms around my waist tightly, playing with the strings on my dress.

“Being here with you feels like home to me. Come here, closer.” Eivor spoke to me with soft words.

My stomach sank, and my heart began to beat rapidly.

Eivor grabbed my chin and pulled it closer to hers, giving me a soft tender kiss, the taste of alcohol lingering on her lips. Her rough hand grabbed the back of my neck for support, pulling me in for more. With her other hand, her scarred fingers began to trickle down my arms and back up to the side of my ribs, gripping me tight with frustration.

I let out a subdued moan, unable to contain myself. She began to make her way down my neck with kisses and licks and then back up to suck on my earlobes.

“Eivor…” I said with another moan.

I felt her breath on my baby hairs, and my skin began to form goosebumps. Losing all control I ran my fingers down her back as she continued to kiss me wherever on my body she pleased. Pulling the collar of my dress down she began to place kisses on my chest. I could feel my underwear begin to soil and the ability to control the moans escaping my mouth weakened.

So many questions unanswered, what the hell am I doing?

My mind said one thing but my body said another.

“Eivor... I want you.” I whispered in her ear.

Without hesitation Eivor began to pull off the grey tunic she was in, disclosing her pale scarred flesh. My eyes stayed put on her chest and how the fleshy nubs on her bosom hardened.

“Let me see you, elsker.” Eivor said with a tug at my dress.

I stood up and began to untie the strings of my dress in front of Eivor, pulling the first layer off and throwing it to the ground. Eivor watched with careful eyes, sitting on the bed with spread legs and an exposed chest as I stood there in my last layer.

“Take it off for me, I want to watch.” Eivor instructed me, eyes locked onto me.

Undoing the last string on my tunic, I pulled the cloth over my head, holding the fabric up to my chest for a second before dropping it to the ground. My bare breasts were now on display for Eivor to see.

Finally, down to the last item of clothing on my body. I slowly started to pull down the fine silk underwear I was wearing until they dropped to the ground.

“Enough teasing, love. I want you all to myself. Right now.” Eivor said, almost breathless.

Eivor was unable to compose herself anymore, her breathing began to stagger. She stood up next to me, looking down into my eyes and started impatiently unbuckling her trousers. Leaning in for more wet kisses, she started to suck on my neck leaving a wet bruised spot. Moving downwards onto my chest sucking on my hard nipples, her hands with a firm grip on my ass.

I grabbed hold of Eivor’s blonde hair and let her lose herself in my body. On her knees now she started to massage my thighs, leaving a trail of kisses on my stomach. Eivor cupped my womanhood with her other hand making me tense up, removing it to reveal a sticky wet mess I made on her.

“Already soaked and I’ve barely started with you.” Eivor murmured, standing back up to lift me with ease.

My legs wrapped around her naked waist, still not hesitating to give me long deep kisses. Laying me down on the bed softly, her scarred hands grabbed a hold of both of my breasts and massaged my nipples, placing both in her mouth and sucking.

Eivor placed her knee in between my thighs, teasing me softly. I latched onto her and began grinding against her skin up and down, leaving a soaked spot on her leg. Her breasts swayed in front of me and I took a nub in my mouth and sucked, cupping it then releasing it.

I could tell by the expressions on Eivor’s face how bad she wanted me, the way I threw myself at her turning her on to the point of no return. As I left kisses and hickeys on her breasts, her breaths grew short and heavy. Still grinding my cunt on Eivors leg and prodding at her nipples, I could hear her mumble my name.

“Eivor… I want you so bad.” I let out a moan.

The sexual frustration of watching her fuck me with her eyes since I got here was soon to be released.

I opened my legs wide for her and she started to kiss my inner thighs, her hand teasing around my wet cunt. Getting a good grip onto my hips she began to place her hot mouth over my clit. Her experienced tongue made me arch my back and rock back and forth in an attempt to fuck her face.

“Fuck, [y/n] you taste so good.” She said, the pretty view of her head shooting up between my legs.

Eivor’s tongue kept a steady pace and slowly picked up as I held a fist full of her hair. Unable to control my moans and my eyes sealing shut, I held my other hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound.

I felt Eivor start to fuck me with her tongue, burying it in me as deep as possible, her moaning noises making my cunt vibrate.

While Eivor ate me like it was her last meal, her fingers explored my dripping wet spot, massaging my lips and teasing my hole, making me squirm beneath her.

“Oh, please Eivor I need to feel you inside of me!” I said with a fretful tone.

Eivor pulled her head up from in between my thighs, placing sloppy kisses all over my body until ultimately letting me taste myself on her tongue. The blonde grabbed the side of my neck looking profoundly into my eyes. My mouth reached for her thumb to suck on and a hungry expression fell upon her face, one that I had never seen before. She stroked the molars in the back of my mouth before sticking her long fingers down my throat almost making me gag.

“Gods, you’re so fucking filthy. You belong to me now...” Eivor whispered in my ear, her fingers still playing with me.

“All of me is yours… Eivor. Im yours…” I replied, trying to catch my breath.

Eivor slowly stuck a long slender finger inside of me, inserting from the very tip of her finger pad down to her knuckle. She watched me closely as I threw my head back in awe of how good the length of her felt. She pulled in and out of me until she stopped, her finger beginning to curl.

Keeping a steady pace inside me, I grabbed onto one of her soft breasts and started playing with the hard lump. Eivor let out a tender moan, her finger digging deeper into me.

Moving on to two fingers now, she began pumping me hard and fast. The immoral sounds of my wet pussy and her knuckles clashing filled the room. Removing my hand from her breast, I reached both hands out and gripped onto the back of her neck bracing for impact.

Looking down between our bodies and seeing her long fingers pump into me with vigor and force, I started to make a creamy mess all over her. I felt released and satisfied with how Eivor filled me. Slowing her pace down, she pulled out and placed her fingers on the tip of my tongue.

“Be a good girl and clean yourself off me, love.” The blonde murmured.

I stuck her soiled fingers in my mouth and my tongue made circles around the collision of our dna.

“It's your turn, my wolf.” I said sliding underneath Eivor’s body.

She spread her legs for me and grabbed onto the wooden bedpost. I took in the view of Eivor’s dripping cunt and tall lean body standing over me. Prepping my seat for her with my mouth hanging open, she didn’t hesitate to sit down.

Placing my mouth over her labia, I began to lick her up and down, not yet touching her clit. I savored the taste and she arched her back releasing a deep moan. My hands massaged her thighs and then at last I placed all my attention onto her throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck, just like that!” Eivor demanded, impatience in her voice for me to get her off.

The blonde began to buck and ride my face, her hands releasing the bedpost and now taking hold of my hair. Her firm grip and the heaviness of her body left me more determined to make her finish in my mouth.

I hummed and moaned into Eivor’s warm cunt, making her squirm and buck harder on my face. Listening as Eivors moans became heavier and she tried to catch her breath, the taste of her bittersweet pride coated my tongue and I swallowed every bit.

Eivor stopped so she could catch her breath before pulling off of me and laying down flat on the bed. We made eye contact and she just smiled at me before we chuckled at one another.

Though it was our first time making love, it felt like we had known each other's bodies for the entirety of our lives.

“You handle me so well. Come here, my little drengr.” Eivor said, before giving me one last passionate kiss.

Eivors POV

Damn, who knew her little body could take me so well?

Laying flat on the bed, I watched as my lover stood up and attempted to fix her hair. Eyes fixating on every curve of her body, her skin still dripping with sweat from the intense love we just made.

I was already missing her warm embrace and the feeling of her silky skin against mine, the faint sweet fragrance that radiated off her body.

Finding her way back to my bed, I lifted a thin cover up for her to join me once again. The cute smile she gave me made me melt inside. Facing the wall she laid down with me and I placed my arms around her, hugging her from behind. The feeling of her ass rubbing against my naked body, as if tempting me for another round.

I know what position I'm putting her in next time…

A sleepy drengr interrupted my dirty thoughts,

“Eivor, did you really mean it… Am i yours? Are you mine?”

With every ache in my body I meant it.

I propped my head up on my hand,

“If you allow it, I would take great pride in having you by my side.” I replied back, stroking her hair from behind.

I felt the little drengr adjust herself and turn her head towards me.

“Eivor, I would love that, but…”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I feel like there's more I need to learn about you.”

Though I was disappointed, I brushed it off giving her an understanding nod.

“You’re right, let's talk tomorrow i will explain everything. I promise... For now just sleep with me, here in my arms.” I said letting out a big sigh.

I'm gonna tell her everything tomorrow, if she is the prophecy she will understand. Right?

She turned around snuggling up to me and I watched as her eyes slowly closed.

I’ll cherish this moment forever...

#fem eivor #female eivor #ac valhalla #fan fiction #writers on tumblr #eivor x reader #assasins creed #assasinscreed

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

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Honor and blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Meeting the family

Synopsis: Vanya meets the boat builder Floki and his wife Helga and comes to terms with her own faith.

Warning: Angst, forced marriage, toxic family, mentions of blood, Ivar, fluff (because why not), mentions of setting people on fire

Tagged

@shannygoatgruff @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927 @lol-haha-joke

She chose a red dress and then changed into a green one; finally, she let Margrethe chose for her. The blonde thrall chose a pretty pink dress that made her look innocent.

She also changed her hairstyle at least twice before Margrethe told her she wouldn't change it anymore. Servant or not, the girl was fed up with Vanya's nervousness.

It's kind of funny how Vanya is more nervous about meeting Floki and Helga then she was when she met Aslaug. But a man like the boat builder is more intimidating than the Queen of Kattegat.

Ivar kept telling her that the older Viking wouldn't do anything more than mock her at worst. But yet she was still nervous on her way to them. She imagined a tall man with many muscles with a glare made of hellfire.

That's not what she got. The lean man giggling by a tree was far from a spawn of Satan. Vanya had a feeling all the rumors of Viking must be false. They were human; some were even kind, far from demons from hell who didn't bleed when you struck them with a sword.

"Why did you drag yourself here, cripple?" The strange man called out in a mocking tone. Vanya froze in her place behind Ivar. She hated the way he spoke to him.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but Ivar spoke up instead. "To see your insane old ass. I want you to meet Vanya." Well, that went better than she expected.

"Hello." The kind voice that spoke behind her startled her. The blonde woman looked so happy to see her, Vanya couldn't help but smile back.

"Don't bother, Helga. The Christian doesn't understand." Vanya frowned at his words with Helga mirroring her. The kind female opened her mouth to scold her husband only for Vanya to intervene.

"It is very nice to meet you, Helga. You too, Floki. Ivar told me a lot about you." Helga and Ivar looked at her with pride. Meanwhile, Floki narrowed his eyes at her as if he was looking into her soul. Funny considering he didn't believe they existed.

Afterward, he giggled before walking over to Ivar and patting him on the head like a dog. The Prince swatted his hand away and hit him in the knee, causing the other man to jump away laughing. "He talked about you too. I did not expect you to talk at all from what he told me."

Vanya looked down at Ivar and raised a curious eyebrow at him. She wondered what he told the man he saw as a father figure, especially if Floki saw her as a mute.

"Sit. Let's talk." Helga ushered them around a put out fire with logs around it. Vanya sat down next to Ivar, who heaved himself onto the wood effortlessly. She admired his grace and strength. And his muscles. Especially his muscles.

She liked Helga already, Floki was a whole different story. He didn't mock her as much as she expected, but he obviously hated her faith. At least they had something in common.

"Ivar says you won't be a Christian after tomorrow. How do you feel about that?" The accusation behind that sentence was so evident it hurt. Yet Vanya didn't dwell on it. Her husband to be mentioned that Floki always hated Christians. Especially the one who befriended Ivar's father, Ragnar. The story of how he killed the monk wasn't exactly a vote of confidence to her.

She blinked once before she looked up to the sky to escape his mean gaze. "Well, I don't know. I like the gods Ivar speaks of. They seem better than mine. But he is my family's God. Even if he isn't that helpful."

"Helpful?" Great, now Ivar's questioning her too. She had a suspicion that the two planned this whole conversation to find out where she stood with her faith.

The Saxon Princess looked at the two Vikings again and shrugged. "He must be a busy God if he never answers my prayers. He doesn't protect people like the Aesir."

The answer both amused and satisfied the duo, which Vanya was thankful for. Whatever God answered her inner cry for help, she was grateful for the support.

"And what do you pray for?" Helga asked curiously. The ginger thought hard about the question. What would she say? Last, she prayed it was for her to die on the open sea.

"Many things. Safety, happiness, forgiveness. I'm sure it is no different from your prayers." The older female nodded with a small smile on her lips.

Floki instead rolled his eyes at that and looked at Ivar from the corner of his eye before smirking. "And how do you like our little Cripple?"

Vanya frowned at the word and shook her head at him. "I like IVAR so far." The emphasis on his name made the said male smirk proudly. Apparently, the answer pleased Floki too. Even Helga smiled at that.

They sat in a circle talking about tomorrow's wedding. Helga told her a little about her own wedding and what she should expect. The Saxon Princess had no idea what to think of the goat blood she will be sprinkled with, but otherwise, everything sounded great. The sword tradition interested her the most. While the two females talked, Floki led Ivar to his newest boat to show him something.

"Poor little Christian isn't right in the head. She actually likes you." Floki teased the younger Viking when they were out of hearing range. Ivar glared up at the boat builder and scoffed.

"Shut it, old fool. Well? Do you like her?" The two had a stare off as feminine laughter sounded in the background. Then the atmosphere changed, and the laughed as Floki sat down in the dirt next to the youngest son of Ragnar. He put an arm around his shoulders and lightly swayed them from side to side.

Floki looked at his sweet Helga, talking to the redhead. They both smiled while talking about something that the two men couldn't make out. "She is okay for a Christian." Floki spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Ivar let out a long breath and looked at the happy ginger.

She looked so pretty, talking to Helga with her braided hair and pink dress. She always looked beautiful, no matter what she wore. When Bjorn told him that the king of Slegia chose him as the future husband for Vanya, he was angry. But Aslaug kept bothering him about it till he agreed. That was a day before the redhead arrived. He just couldn't say no to his mother when she looked at him with soft eyes, worried he would never find love. Ivar was no fool. He knew why Silas chose him instead of his older brothers. It had nothing to do with age.

Bjorn said that the king asked about all of them. And when he mentioned that Ivar's a cripple, he chose him. After all, the chances of producing a male heir are low for somebody whose lower half doesn't work—or creating any child at all. And without anybody to raise a claim on Silas's throne, he can keep on ruling till he creates an heir of his own.

And Ivar wasn't the only one aware of this plan, Sigurd threw it in his face the moment the engagement was announced. But he wouldn't say it in front of her, Sigurd was too much of a coward to do it.

"Poor little Ivar will be a married man tomorrow." Floki teased, ruffling his hair only for Ivar to roll his eyes at him.

"You say it like it's terrible. Are you not married? What would Helga say if she heard you." Ivar snapped back halfheartedly. He was nervous about marrying her, but not for the reasons his brothers would be. He never cared for women, so not being free to sleep around didn't bother him as much as it would bother Hvitserk or Ubbe, or Bjorn. It was more about spending the rest of his life with somebody who would see his legs daily. Somebody who didn't say what they thought without being asked to do so.

"But, you are not marrying Helga." The way Floki said it made Ivar pause in his thinking. He was right. Helga and Vanya were different. They may both be kind and soft-spoken, but Helga knew the ways of the Vikings. Meanwhile, Vanya got pale only at the mention of blood. She wasn't cut for the violent methods that Ivar loved, but she doesn't have to be. He had no problem keeping her away from it all if it meant she would stay by his side.

The redhead wasn't like the other women he knew. Every girl he saw looked at him with either pity or disgust. Vanya treated him like an equal. That's why he enjoyed their evening talks so much. Even if every time she mentioned Silas or froze every time she said something she thought would make him angry, he wanted to hit or kill something.

The two walked men walked to their wife and bride. The two were huddled together on a log, giggling about something. "Really? Up to his ears?"

Helga nodded at the ginger's question and covered her mouth with her hand. "Yes. He was covered in mud up to his ears. You could see nothing but the blue eyes."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Floki asked them suspiciously, Ivar knew precisely what they were talking about. Helga looked up at Floki with a smile and giggled again.

"The time you threw Ivar into the mud when he wouldn't stop asking questions." Ivar glared at Helga for telling Vanya such an embarrassing moment. He was only ten and wanted to know all about the boat Floki was building; he wouldn't let him work till he answered every question. The old Viking got so frustrated with him he jokingly threw him into the mud near them. Only Ivar slipped and caked his whole face in it. His mother made him bathe three times, cause the dirt wouldn't get out of his hair.

Vanya saw his angry shook her head at him, laughing. "It is alright. I did a lot of embarrassing things when I was a child too." She reassured him in English. Yet his sour face didn't change.

"Like what, huh?" Ivar asked, raising an eyebrow at her while Helga and Floki watched them talk. Vanya thought hard about a moment in her life where she made a fool of herself. It wasn't that hard, but she had a feeling saying her whole life was embarrassing wouldn't make Ivar happy.

"When I was six, my father went hunting with Silas. So I was alone at home with my mother. She had a visitor over. An older man, he was very handsome and knew many stories. I liked him until he called my father a fool for letting him stay. So when my mother went to change her dress, I asked him to sit with me by the fire. I moved his leg to the fire. He was so focused on his cup of wine he didn't realize that his clothes were aflame till mother walked in. So I spilled the pitched of wine on him to put it out. I poured it over his head, making him look like a wet dog. He looked so foolish mother sent him away."

Ivar looked at her with an open mouth and wide eyes. "You set him on fire?" He looked at Floki and smirked at him. "She set her mother's lover on fire when she was six."

Floki laughed at this while she blushed. "Well, you asked." She said, smiling slightly at her future husband.

"I asked about something embarrassing." Ivar pointed out, making her shake her head and roll her eyes.

"Well, it was embarrassing for me when Mother told Father what I did, and he had me locked in my room for a week, especially when he called me his little Spark after that." She whined, making him laugh. Vanya rolled her eyes at his antics and looked at Helga for help. Floki kept grinning at her, and Ivar telling him that she fit him better than he thought.

The sentence just had to keep haunting her, didn't it? A husband that fits her. Maybe he did. She certainly liked it.

#Vikings #oc #Original character #original female character #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless

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xbellaxcarolinax · 5 years ago

Text

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 5- Replaceable

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 2154

Warnings: Light dream violence?

4- Distaste

...

She could hear herself breathing, her heart rate accelerating at inhuman speed. Her eyes were closed. She was afraid to open them in fear of seeing the horrors of a living hell.

She felt a wetness about her bare feet that seeped between her toes, warm and sticky. The scent of iron was strong in the air. Glancing down she opened her eyes slowly, gagging at the sight of the pools of rich blood surrounding her, as well as the bodies of the holy men thrown about with arrows embedded into them. She stared wide eyed at the massacre, lifting up the hem of her white dress to see it covered in the red of the monks.

The pristine walls of the monestary were covered in the blood of its men that worshipped within its walls. The statues of the saints melt away into the bloody mess on the marble floors, and the gold she had welded with her own two hands were gone.

Artemis let's out a sob, willing the screams in the distance to stop, for the madness to stop...and then there was silence.

Somehow the silence was worse than the screams.

"It is beautiful, don't you agree?" She whipped around quickly, staring into eyes of endless blue oceans that would surely drown her.

Ivar stood tall, looming over her like a great oak tree, a long bow in his hands. Blood streamed down his face and into his eyes, but he didn't seem to care.

To see him at his full height and not crawling about on the ground set a fear in her heart. Before she could do anything, he stretches the bow string as far as he could with a wild grin, releasing the arrow with lightning speed, and then, she saw nothing.

...

"Wake up, you lazy cunt, you're dreaming again!" The hits of the wooden spoon were enough to jolt Artemis into conscienceness. Sweat rolled down her brow and her breathing was erratic. It was still dark out, not yet sunrise.

"There she is, now get up, the Prince's should be waking soon and the hall must be spotless. Wouldn't want Ivar to cut that pretty little face of yours, hmm?"

Artemis rubbed the sleep from her eyes, doing her best to ignore Edda, the head thrall of the household. She was a feisty older woman with an unpleasant tone who had worked under Queen Asluag in the days when the boys were young. She was round, with a build as large as her personality. They must have fed her well these past years. Edda was quite fond of her late Queen and had resented Lagertha, but those were the old days, and a new era was upon them. Perhaps the murder had affected her just as it did the sons.

The main hall had been empty that morning, except for the few slaves that lingered about. Edda, that old hag, had sent her to clean up mess after mess. Artemis supposed that was her main purpose there, besides tending to the crippled prince. Cleaning up messes was tedious, but at least she wasn't forced upon the fortifications of the wall. The monks of Crete served that purpose.

Artemis blinked tiredly, slowly dragging her feet to the hall. It was to her surprise that not much needed to be cleaned and tended to. The brothers had thrown a small feast among themselves, and the remainders of last night hung in the air and draped over Artemis' shoulders like a cloak. Articles of clothing were thrown about, and horns of ale sat untouched on the table. She collected the clothing and cups, passing them off to one of the kitchen maids and the laundress.

She sighs, tending to the hearth before going over to wipe spilled ale off the large table. On the center of the table was what looked like a lute. It was a beautifully crafted instrument, the wood carved to perfection. Patterns were etched on its front with the same strategic lines she had seen carved on the rocks and boulders around the village.

She tossed the cleaning rag to the side, momentarily forgetting her task and letting her fingers brush atop the smooth wooden surface. The wood was soomth to the touch upon her heated fingers, just as she expected. She then passed her fingers over the thin strings that were rough to the touch. She plucked one of them, and the resonating sound made her smile. The sound was a comfort to her, a nostalgic ringing in her ears that made her want to pluck another string just to bring the feeling back.

"Do you play?"

Artemis turned quickly, suppressing a shriek of surprise. Behind her stood one of the princes, Sigurd, who bore a tired smile. When she remained quiet, he stepped forward slowly, ignoring the look she gave him.

"Do you play?" He asked again, this time a bit slower, assuming she didn't understand. He points at the lute. He gave no air of a threat, but Artemis could not be too sure, so she didn't let her guard down. She didn't know this prince as well as the others. Ubbe was sensible and kind, Hvitserk was extremely playful, and Ivar crazy, so where did Sigurd fit into?

She realizes he was waiting for an answer, and she quickly cleared her throat before putting her hands behind her back and setting her gaze to the floor.

"I'm not very skilled, Prince," She spoke quietly but firmly, and almost jerked back when he gently grasped her chin, pushing her face up towards him. Her eyes bore into his odd blue ones and his smile could be described as blinding.

"Your eyes," He begins, "Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?"

"No." She replies flatly, shaking herself from his grip.

Sigurd wasn't angry.

He stepped past her, grabbing the lute and plucking a few strings to create a tune. He smiled at her again before handing her the instrument.

"You try,"

She looks at him with uncertainty before grasping the lute, cradling it softly within her arms like a child. She plucked one string, then another, bringing back a tune from deep within her memory.

She remembered her mother was a skilled musician, trying her best to pass on the knowledge to her, but Artemis never really cared for it. She always gravitated towards the work of her father and brother. Her mother always joked that she bore two sons. The thought made Artemis smile as she continued to play, just as her mother had taught her, a lullaby played to her when she was a little girl. It had been so long since she'd heard it, yet somehow it remained fresh in her mind.

She stopped abruptly, fingers hooking over the strings as mixed emotions ran through her. She felt angry hot tears swell in her eyes, blurring her vision. She choked back a sob that threatened to spill from her lips. The memories of her old life resurfaced and hit her like a crashing wave. She fought so hard to keep them at bay.

Overwhelmed, Artemis placed the lute back on the table with shaking hands. She spared a glance at Sigurd, wet eyes revealing the resentment swimming within. It wasn't his fault she was there, but he was associated with the ones who did, and that was enough for her soul to be gripped with animosity.

"Why do you cry?" Sigurd seemed genuinely confused. The idiot. He steps closer, raising a hand in an attempt to dry her tears, but right before she made a move to shift away from his touch again, they were interrupted by a growl all too familiar.

It had grown silent, even the crackling embers of the building fire had grown silent as if fearful.

"Ivar," Sigurd says his name with an annoyed sigh, not bothering to turn around. He knew his youngest brother had the eyes of a vulture.

"What can I do for you, little brother?"

Ivar had the habit of appearing from the shadows unnoticed despite the scraping of the metal buckles round his legs, but he quite liked it that way. He crawls across the floors in an eerie manner as he slowly approached the pair with eyes that was nothing short of murder.

"I just wonder brother," He began softly, continuing to drag himself ever so slowly until he reached Sigurds boots, "I wonder who gave you the authority to touch my thrall, if it was not I who gave the order?" Ivar feigned confusion, lifting himself up to sit at the table. He watched Artemis intently, noticing how rigid her posture was, as if ready to pounce on the defense if need be. Sigurd held his ground as he always did.

"Must I ask permission to command a slave, Ivar?" Ivar hums in response, drumming his fingers harshly against the table that resonated throughout the hall. Sigurd was never a good liar, even now, Ivar could see how his brow twitched, a sign of Sigurd's obvious dishonesty. He had fooled Ivar as a child many times, but he wouldn't be misguided as easily as before.

"Command? This isnt an ordinary slave, dear Sigurd, this is my slave. Would you like it if someone else were trying to toy with your property, hmm?" His tone was condescending, a ploy to bring Sigurd to his boiling point. It had almost worked, and the youngest brother watched with glee as Sigurd moved to react, hands turning to fists, but it was Ivar's slave that reacted first.

"I was never a man's property, not in my homeland, and certainly not here," Artemis growled, hands bawling into fists at her sides. Whatever ounce of fear she had of Ivar had disappeared, as rage clouded her vision. All thoughts of potential punishment had ceased from her mind, nose flaring and eyebrows arched.

She faces Ivar with a hardness in her eyes, shining like pearls ready to be plucked from the sea. Perhaps it was her nightmare that ignited the fire, the image of Ivar ready to kill her was implanted in her mind. Ivar grinned madly, a reaction he was not expecting from her, but a reaction he enjoyed nonetheless.

Sigurd watches on with wide eyes, speechless at her outburst. It was only moments ago in which she almost appeared as a mute. Leave it to Ivar to make even the most silent of persons angry.

"My, how your vocabulary has expanded!" Ivar taunts, "I'm impressed, really," He slams his hand against the table with a loud smack, and the force of the hit sent the lute crashing to the ground, forgotten in the tense silence of the hall. Then he gets deadly serious.

"The fact of the matter is that you are now a slave! To hel with your past life, it does not matter anymore. Here you are nothing but a slave under my command. Relinquish your thoughts of your homeland, you have no use for it here,"

"You are much too cruel, brother." Sigurd sighs, glancing at Artemis before taking a seat across from Ivar. He was in no mood to argue.

"The truth can be quite cruel," Ivar says, glaring at his brother before turning his gaze to Artemis. He brings a dagger between his fingers, the same one he put to her throat only days ago. It seemed to glitter in the light of the fire, as if mocking her mortality.

"Well? Will you not fetch us food? It is nearly time for breakfast," Ivar smiled, quickly driving the dagger into the wood of the table with a hard stab. Artemis, fuming with anger, remains silent. Her hands shook and she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. Sigurd sent her a sorrowful look, but she ignored it, snatching the rag in a tight grip and turning on her heel to exit the hall. How infuriating Ivar was, to constantly express his superiority. He compensates weak legs with extreme pride, and uses fear as a way to control.

Hvitserk and Ubbe walked past to meet their youngest with Margarthe in tow. Hvitserk winks at her as he usually did at but Ubbe's eyes were hard. He grabbed her forearm tightly, succeeding in emiting a squeal from her.

"Obey him, Artemis," She blinked. It was the first time he'd given her some form of scolding, "You may have never been a slave before, but that is what you are now, and that is the path the gods have chosen for you. If you value your life, obey him. You are replaceable."

With that, Ubbe leaves as if no words have been exchanged at all. Margarthe sends her a look as if warning her, but disappeared with her husband and lover into the hall.

Angry tears escape her eyes and she wipes them away furiously. Tears wouldn't help her.

...

@heavenly1927

#ivarxofc #ivarfanfiction #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar #ivar x oc #vikings #ubbe #hvitserk #sigurd

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literary-spirit · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

Bjorn stared at Bonnie as if a second head had sprouted from her neck. "So what are you implying? That the world is not flat but-,"

"Round!" Her head bobbed in a rapid series of nods. "Yes."

He watched her for a moment longer before snorting, "Impossible...ridiculous even! Surely if I were to sail too far in either direction my ship would eventually fall into oblivion."

"No, you'd just end back up in the same place you-,"

"Land!" A gruff voice growled from the head the ship.

Torn from their back and forth, she looked up and her chin almost smacked the floor of the ship. The sight of Kattegat snatched her breath and knotted her tongue. Television didn't do Ragnar's kingdom any favors compared to what the naked eye perceived in person.

"What you're feeling now is the same feelings I have each time I return. Bonnie," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, before his rough palms closed around her hands. "Swear your allegiance to me. Remain always at my side and I vow to protect you for as long as we both remain on Midgard."

Confusion wrinkled her brows. What the hell had she done to provoke such and oath from one of history's greatest names? "Why offer me this? You hardly know me."

"Because the same emotions I feel when I return to Kattegat is the same sentiment I felt when I looked upon you for the first time," he gave her hands a squeeze, "Something within speaks to me."

"Wha-," her voice went hoarse in the presence of a throat so dry she doubted even high quality h2o could quench her thirst. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and tried again. "What does it say?"

A smile caressed his mouth as he lifted her hands to press a kiss to the back of them, "To hold you dear. For you're to be treasured."

"Bjorn-,"

"Will you bequeath me your vow, Mystical One?" He demanded as he imprisoned her in his electric stare.

Unable to do anything but give into the iconic Viking who was destined to carve his name across time, she nodded once. "Yes, Bjorn Ironside. You have my allegiance. My sworn word that I will never stand across from you on a battlefield and if left up to me, I vow to remain by your side for as long as we both shall live."

The words were out her mouth before they had a chance to tap dance across her mind. What the hell? Why the hell would she promise such a thing? She had to find Klaus! There was no time for her to become just another name on Bjorn Ironside's hitlist.

"Good, this pleases me," He laughed and released her hands to clap his. "Now we must seal our sacred vow." The laughter faded from his features as his facial muscles stiffened into a mask of sincerity.

Her breathing slowed while she prepared for the fuckery sure to follow. "How? Please don't say by blood."

"No, this way is the right of it," he whispered as he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. Slowly, he leaned down to allow his lips to graze hers. Before it fully registered what jumped off he pulled away. "Now it is done."

"Okay, so now that's out of the way," she cut her gaze to the shore as she attempted to even her breathing and calm the flipping in her stomach. "How do you plan to explain me to your wife and the rest of your family?"

Bjorn's face scrunched. "How-," she halted his question with an unflinching gaze. The smirk on her lips hinted at all-knowing. He inclined his head as a concession of sorts, "Allow me to worry over my family. I have given you my sworn oath. There is no other in Midgard who can compel me to break my vow to you."

"Alright, my protector," she glanced over the multitude of people who at present packed the harbor, "I believe you."

Bjorn helped her off the ship onto the dock. When he turned two children raced into his arms followed by a petite woman with crinkled flaxen hair. Torvi. After the kids had released him, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him so hard she damn near sucked his whole head in her mouth. Moments later he untangled himself from her hold.

"How fare your travels, husband? Did the gods smile favorably upon you, was greatness achieved?" Torvi questioned as her gaze drifted to Bonnie and lingered.

"My travels have fared better than even I anticipated. For the gods have bestowed upon me the most wondrous of gifts," Bjorn turned to cast a wide smile at her and an extended hand. Accepting the outstretched palm, she allowed him to pull her to his side, "This is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls and she is under my protection."

"Is she a slave then, Bjorn?" The oldest of the two boys questioned.

"No, Guthrum," Bjorn kneeled before the child to stare him in the eyes, "She is to be a most sacred friend to our family and that is how we shall all regard her."

"But she is dressed as a slave," Guthrum insisted, waving a hand at the burlap sack dress she wore.

Bjorn tsked. "Guthrum, it is not the garments that are donned which confirms the value of one's worthiness. However, worry not. For she shall be cloaked in the finest hides, silks, and furs befitting her station soon enough."

Raw pain etched its way across Torvi's face. "So you have taken a mistress?"

"I'm not his mistress, nor will I ever be," Bjorn head snapped around to peer up at Bonnie and she gave him a look that carried the weight of her words, before her gaze swung back to meet Torvi's flared stare, "on that you have my word."

"She speaks our language," She said, her words ringing more as a statement than a question, "Fluently, it would seem. Did you teach her?"

This gave Bonnie pause. Weren't they all speaking English? There wasn't an ice-water day in hell she spoke old Norse fluently. Not even with Super Head's tongue.

"Bjorn!"

Two tall lean muscled boys just beyond the dawn of manhood with eyes as transfixing as Bjorn's, cut through the crowded dock. Without any need for introductions, she knew who they were before hello crossed either one of their lips, Ubbe and Hvitserk. One after the other, they gathered Bjorn in a spine crushing hug. Each brother concluded their embrace with a pound to the back.

"How went your raid, brother?" Ubbe asked. A longing flicker which couldn't be mistaken for anything other than wanderlust sparked his unblinking azure stare, "Was the plunder worthy of the voyage?"

Hvitserk laughed and his consideration wandered from them to her. His iridescent sapphire blue irises almost leapt from their sockets. "How far south did you raid, brother?" He questioned, while running his gaze up then down her and back again.

Curious, Ubbe tracked his brother's stupefied stare back to her. When his gaze crashed landed on her, he stepped around Bjorn to invade her personal space. Once he towered over her, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. He then lifted the digit to his face for inspection.

"I assure you, it doesn't rub off," Bonnie said, before reaching up to do the same to him. When she inspected her thumb, she frowned down at the dirt on the pad of her finger. "But I see that yours does." She lifted her finger for him to see.

Ubbe's scrutiny snapped back to her face and doubled in its intensity.

"Where will you be placing her to serve, Bjorn?" He demanded

"She's not a thrall," Guthrum corrected, "she's a sacred friend to the family."

"What?!" Ubbe and Hvitserk questioned in unison.

"Guthrum speaks the truth," Bjorn cosigned, while inserting himself between them in order to address Ubbe and Hvitserk face to face, "Bonnie is a free woman and has my sworn vow of protection. Fear not, however," He pointedly glanced back at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed slave girl who pleaded to have her thrown in the sea to please the gods. She in turn cast her gaze downward and feigned modesty. "I have secured a wealth of suitable thralls to add to the great hall, stables, and trading block." Ubbe and Hvitserk exchanged smirks. "Now come, let us make our way back to the keep. I'm in need of a meal and rest."

****

Bonnie glanced the one room shack. Like on television there wasn't much to the small space. There was hardly any room for Bjorn and his family. Where in the hell did he expect her to sleep? Her gaze moved to the only bed in the home. A pair of hands grasped her shoulders.

"My uncle Rollo has a keep only a few paces from here. My plans are to restore it so you may reside there," Bjorn whispered next to her ear, answering her unasked question as if he had real time Shade Room updates to her thoughts. "It should be complete before we sail for the Mediterranean."

A smile trembled across her lips. "You want me at your side when you sail for the Mediterranean?"

"Of course," Bjorn crowded her into a corner and lowered his voice, "There is a great truth I am with haste coming to realize."

"And that is?" She questioned, while noticing Torvi side-eying the hell out of them.

"There is not a moment when I do not long to have you at my side," he answered.

"And when did you have time to come to this conclusion in the three days of knowing me?" Bonnie scoffed. "Bjorn, I have yet to leave your side so how can you long for something you never had to miss." She inhaled and dropped her head to exhale. She needed a moment to mentally check herself. The angst gnawing at her chest had nothing to do with Bjorn and everything to do with the 21st century Viking she may or may not have left behind. "Look, this isn't what you think it is, trust me." She placed a hand on his chest. "You're just in the throes of a fleeting infatuation."

"You doubt my words?" He demanded stepping impossibly closer. The press of his hard body, pounding of his heart, and the unyielding steel hanging midway down his thigh spoke major fuckery about his earnestness.

"Never, I'm just skeptical about the longevity of their sincerity," she admitted, "Especially, when physical consummation isn't forthcoming. I meant what I said, Bjorn Lothbrok! I refuse to be your mistress. I won't do that to Torvi."

A knock sounded on the door, cutting off anything further he had to say. Torvi rushed over to answer it. Soon after in walked Sigurd. Aggravation provoked the muscle in Bjorn's jaw to twitch but despite his irritation he turned to greet his brother.

In three strides he crossed the room and embraced Bjorn. Sigurd eyed her over Bjorn's shoulder. "By the gods Hvitserk did speak the truth. You are in possession of a maiden who is cloaked in twilight even in the sunlight. Is she that pigmentation all over, brother?"

"I can assure you, young Sigurd, Ironside wouldn't be able to tell you one way or the other," Bonnie snapped.

Sigurd scoffed. "Young Sigurd? The brazenness of you! I'll wager you've yet to greet your sixteenth summer! You barely have the look of a girl who's one and five."

She tossed her head back and laughed at his flattery which bordered on absurdity. "You're sweet, but I haven't seen sixteen in eleven summers."

"Impossible," Sigurd spat as if he were on the verge of calling her a damn lie.

"Well you know what they say about black," She shrugged as she glanced down. Guthrum and Hali appeared to be hanging onto every syllable of her words. Introducing a set of stereotypes to a race of people who'd yet to form an opinion about her race of people wouldn't be a good look.

"No, what do they say," Sigurd demanded.

Her gaze rose to meet his. "They say nothing, and why're you so pressed to know my age anyway, Viking? Don't you know it's bad form to question a woman about the amount of summers she's seen?"

Torvi released a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chortle.

Bjorn leveled them with a not here for it expression before returning his attention back to Sigurd. "Why are you here, Sigurd?"

"My mother has prepared a great feast in your honor. She requests you bring your family and your..." his gaze moved over Bonnie as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, "charge for an eve of merriment." He stepped around Bjorn to loom over her, "Name yourself."

"She is Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls," Guthrum answered.

Bjorn turned Sigurd towards the door. "Inform your mother that my family, charge, and I shall attend. Now seek out your leave so we may be rested for whatever Aslaug has planned."

#bonniebennett #fanfiction #vampirediaries #vikings #bjorn ironside #crossover #ivar the boneless #hvitserk #ubbe lothbrok #sigurd #ragnar lothbrok #the originals

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we-are-only-halfway-home93 · 4 years ago

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Come and Lay the Roses 25- Shadow of the Evening Sun- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ragnar makes a move on Aelle.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violence, torture, sex, mentions of sexual assault/rape.

Word Count: 3942

Ch. 24

AN: I’m so sorry for the wait. I had some family stuff come up and I’m getting ready to move and my school still doesn’t have a solid plan in place for the fall so I’ve had other things on my mind but I am here now and we have chapter 25 of Come and Lay the Roses. I wasn’t too terribly happy with how the end came out but it is what it is. Enjoy!

“Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell.”

~Walter Scott

“They’ve been attacking our docks regularly since Sigurd’s death. First they took Ritland then they took Nyland. Floki and Rollo are at Kattegat right now making sure it’s not overrun. Father,” Björn leaned forward setting his hands flat on Ragnar’s desk. “We need to make a move.”

Ivar tsked. “As much as I love disagreeing with Björn he’s right. We can’t just sit back and let the Saxon kings make fools of us.” Björn shot Ivar a scathing look but kept his mouth shut.

“Sigurd has just died. We haven’t even buried him yet and you want to talk about retribution? Priorities, brothers. I think you should reevaluate them.” Ubbe chimed from his position by the fire. Ivar snorted and shook his head.

“The longer we wait to retaliate the bolder they will become. First, our brother, then the docks. What’s next? A home invasion massacre? No thanks. We need to strike while the iron is hot.” Ivar insisted. Ubbe rolled his eyes and sat back, his melancholy mood thickening the air.

Hvitserk sat forward, silent until now. “We should kill one of their brothers. It’s only fair. That’s what they’ve taken from us.” Ivar shook his head and stood.

“We did that already, Hvitserk. Remember? Aethelwulf was what started this whole mess anyway.” He turned his back to the room and stared out the large picture window overlooking the back garden. He could see Aaline and Thora walking a shaky Sibylle around the grounds. They made it a point to get her outside at least once a day.

“No, if anything this started when you married Aaline.” Björn accused. Ivar whirled around to face his oldest brother whose face had turned a wicked shade of puce.

“And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean? You’re saying this is her fault?” Ivar exclaimed. He pointed a stiff finger at his brother and rounded the couch. Hvitserk stood up and pushed his hands against Ivar’s chest, stopping him. Ubbe stepped in front of Björn, a barrier if needed.

“No. You were out of control. Killing anyone who annoyed you or even got in your way. You married Aaline because it was the only way father could control you. Aelle and Ecbert formed an alliance that night and they’ve been working against us ever since. It’s your fault all this has started.” Ivar snorted and tried to move around Hvitserk but Ubbe was there, creating too much resistance.

“They were attacking us long before my marriage. Who’s to say they wouldn’t have done it anyway?” Ivar yelled.

A loud crash silenced the room. All four men turned to look at their father.

In an uncharacteristic display of emotion, Ragnar had swept the contents of his desk onto the floor. Several glass ornaments shattered and littered the hardwood. Papers floated serenely to the ground. Pens rolled softly across the floor and came to rest under the chairs in front of his desk.

Ragnar looked up. His fingers were steepled in front of him. He had been sitting in quiet contemplation, taking in all the arguments his sons presented. Once they began to turn on each other, he had had enough. He took a deep breath and pressed his hands to his desk, standing.

His sons backed up, distancing themselves from each other, creating space in the already cramped room.

“As compelling as all of your arguments are, only one thing matters. Retribution. Aelle needs to pay for what he has done to us.” He came out from behind his desk and crossed the room, taking Ivar’s place in front of the window.

“He needs to feel my pain. This is the second child I have lost. No parent should have to outlive their children. It is worse than death. Aelle needs to feel what he has done to me.” He turned and faced his sons. “To all of us.”

“Are we going to kill his son?” Hvitserk asked. Ragnar smiled and shook his head.

“No. I would not deprive a father of his children.” He looked at each of his sons, studying them. “But I will deprive a child of his father.” The brother’s exchanged apprehensive glances but remained silent. Ragnar had turned back to the window and settled his hands in his pockets.

“Do you remember the story of Jarl Borg?” Ragnar asked. He kept his back to his sons. Björn was the one to step forward.

“He was an ally. He betrayed you. Took Kattegat, tried to kill Aslaug and Hvitserk and Ubbe and Sigurd. Killed many of your men. Tried to kill you.” Ragnar nodded and Björn took this as encouragement to continue.

“You overtook him. Took back your land and your people. Captured him.” Björn spoke softly in the tense room. He could feel his brothers’ eyes on his back. He was the only one old enough to remember the events of that night. His brothers had all been too young. Ivar hadn’t even been born.

“What did I do to him, my son?” Ragnar drawled, his voice low. Björn glanced at Ubbe whose gaze was laser focused on their father.

It was moments like this where Björn was reminded of his father’s power. These tense, quiet moments where all Ragnar had to do was lower his voice and speak softly and the whole world would stop to listen.

“You blood eagled him.” Björn whispered. Ragnar nodded slowly.

“Yes.” Ragnar breathed. “A fitting punishment, don’t you think?”

“Sir, there is someone here who’d like an audience.” Ecbert looked up from his paper, cursing internally at the stupidity of his companion. Sigurd Lothbrok was dead in a drive-by shooting, his body undergoing an autopsy but Ecbert only needed one guess to figure out who was behind it.

He’d told Aelle to be patient. The fool just couldn’t do it.

“Tell them I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” He waved carelessly. He looked up when he didn’t hear the door close. His attendant was still standing in the doorway, his body tense with nerves. Ecbert sat back. “Well, what do they want?”

His attendant cleared his throat. “She says she has information about Ragnar Lothbrok that might interest you.” Ecbert arched a perfectly shaped brow before waving his hand forward.

“Send her in then.”

The woman who entered was tall and thin with flowing blonde hair that reached her waist. She carried herself with a dignity seen in the upper class but dressed in a way that implied she was more middle or lower class. Her hands were clasped in a loose knot in front of her and her face betrayed little. It was her eyes that stopped Ecbert short. Her eyes gave away her sanity or lack thereof.

“What can I do for you, Miss…” He tapered off, waiting for her to offer her name.

She didn’t.

“I know how you can stop Ragnar Lothbrok.” The confidence in her voice was astounding. Ecbert snorted and shook his head.

“Pray tell, how exactly can I stop Ragnar Lothbrok? He is already the richest man on this side of the country and he has powerful allies in all areas of the government. Tell me, what do you know that I do not that will help me get rid of Ragnar Lothbrok?”

If she heard the sarcasm and skepticism in his voice, she didn’t show it.

“His children are his weakness. He does everything for them and with them in mind. Get rid of the children and he’ll have nothing.” She did show emotion then. Ecbert laughed at her and she looked affronted.

“I am well aware of Ragnar’s attachment to his children. But I will not kill them. Not so soon after the death of their brother. Now please, William will show you out.”

As if called, the door opened and the attendant appeared, his arm outstretched behind him, waiting for the woman to leave. She made no move to do so.

“You don’t have to kill them all in one fell swoop. Just one at a time. As one falls, Ragnar will grow weaker with grief and the rest will be easy.” She insisted, a hint of desperation behind her words.

Ecbert stood, his anger pulsating through the room. “Do you take me for a fool? Hm? I know that Ragnar’s weakness is children. But I have enough respect for the man to let him grieve one son before depriving him of the next. Or are you just trying to get me killed? Killing them all at once would be worlds easier than one at a time. I’m more likely to survive that way.

“Now, you’ve said your piece. Be gone from my sight before I feel you’ve overstayed your welcome.” He looked towards William at the door who moved forward and took the woman by the arm. She jerked against him, causing them to stumble. She took the chance to pull herself from William’s grasp and slam her hands on Ecbert’s desk.

“You’re a coward.” She snarled. Ecbert reared back like he’d been slapped. Never had anyone, let alone a woman dared to speak so to his face.

“Madam, you have overstayed your welcome here. Be grateful that I do not strangle you here and now for your insolence. I have killed stronger men for less. Remove yourself from my sight.” He hissed.

“You’re afraid of the retribution that will rain down if you act now. That makes you a coward.”

“I would be an idiot not to fear Ragnar’s retribution. You must be desperate if you’ve come to me with so little. I’ll not ask again. Leave. Now.”

“Ivar is the problem.” She said with confidence she had no business feeling.

Ecbert sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Ivar has always been the problem. This is not news to me.” His voice was clipped and short.

The woman straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know how to get rid of him.”

Ecbert opened his eyes and stared at the woman with trepidation. She continued. “Once Ivar falls, the rest will soon follow.” Ecbert shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to listen to her. He was either stupid or desperate. Maybe it was a little of both.

“What did you have in mind exactly?”

The grin that overtook her face was just this side of insane.

Aaline leaned against the door jamb, watching Ivar dress. It was late in the evening and he was preparing for his raid on Aelle.

He had spent the better part of the last two days holed up in his father’s office discussing what needed to be done to avenge Sigurd. She could see the lines of anger and grief in his face every night when he came to their bed. He struggled to keep his eyes open long enough to kiss her goodnight before he was passed out.

He was gone by the time she woke and she knew that he was busy plotting.

It seemed they had finally devised a plan.

“How long will you be?” She asked, feigning casualty.

Ivar stopped lacing his boots and glanced up at her.

Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was looking down at her feet.

She was just as exhausted as he was if not more so. She had come to their bed every night physically and emotionally drained. She had taken the lead in Sibylle’s care and had spent the last two days tending to her.

Making sure she ate, making sure she bathed, consoling her and helping Lagertha. Lagertha had taken it upon herself to plan the funeral. Sibylle was in no position to do so. She struggled daily to get out of bed and Torvi and Aaline had to drag her out of bed and to the back garden just to make sure she got some exercise.

She was in no place to plan her husband’s funeral.

Lagertha had planned a day long celebration of life with a massive feast. There would be wine, food, music, and dancing. Of course this would all take place after Sigurd’s funeral pyre. Sigurd’s body would be burned on a pyre that Ivar and his brother’s would build. Offerings and ornaments would be placed on the Pyre so that Sigurd would have things to take with him into Valhalla.

Ivar had the utmost faith in Lagertha, though he felt that the funeral should take place after their vengeance on Aelle.

He sat up and sighed.

“It is hard to say. Our timing depends on Aelle and what he’ll do.” She nodded and looked up, meeting his eyes with watery ones of her own.

He drew his eyebrows together and took a deep breath, letting the air fill his chest, feeling the strain in his lungs, before he exhaled. “Why are you crying?” His voice was soft in the space between them.

She laughed once and pressed her hand against her mouth, afraid it would turn into a sob if she continued. She shook her head, unable to look at him for fear of breaking down. He said her name and she sighed, resigned. “Because I am afraid.” She could not speak louder than a whisper for she knew her voice would break.

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid you won’t return.”

Ivar stood up and approached her slowly. He stopped in front of her and, with tender hands, took her face between his palms. “Aaline…” He searched her eyes, looking for what, she didn’t know. He seemed to find it because the next minute his lips were on hers, hard.

She moaned and brought her hands up to his shoulders, clenching her fists in his shirt, pulling it tight. Ivar sucked in a sharp breath and pulled away, locking eyes with her again.

“I will never leave you.” He whispered against her parted lips. She sobbed once, tears streaming down her face, and pressed forward, molding herself to his body.

Ivar crouched low behind the bushes in Aelle’s backyard. His hips protested the position but he ignored them in favor of watching Aelle’s bedroom window. The light was still on. He cursed when Hvitserk came up behind him.

“Nothing yet?” Ivar glared at his brother before shaking his head and turning back to the window.

“What are they doing anyway? It’s after midnight.” Hvitserk looked at his wrist for a watch that he wasn’t wearing. “I bet they're getting freaky. You think Aelle’s wife still lets him stick it in her every night? Can he even find it? I mean, he’s so…”

“I know what you mean.” Ivar cut his brother off. “His wife is a night owl. She reads.” Hvitserk side eyed Ivar before snorting.

“If I was her, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near me. I bet it’s like a shriveled old pickle.” Ivar rolled his eyes as Hvitserk laughed at his brilliance.

“Tell me the plan again.” Ivar demanded. He needed to get Hvitserk back on track.

Hvitserk huffed but relented. “You and I watch the back and wait for the light to go out. When it does, we text Ubbe and Björn who will wait 20 minutes and then they’ll use the French doors on the side patio to enter through the kitchen.”

“Security cameras?” Ivar asked only half listening.

“Disabled. Björn’s got the jammer in the car. It’s good for ten miles.”

“Security system?”

“Ubbe called the company. Said that the area has been experiencing connection problems and that they’re working post haste but some systems may go off unexpectedly. He’s got the decoder in his bag.”

“Guard dogs?”

“Unconscious.”

Ivar looked over at Hvitserk who didn’t look at him. “I stole some of Margrethe’s Xanax and stuffed it in some ground beef. They’ll be out for hours.” Hvitserk elaborated.

Ivar snorted. “If they wake up.”

He waited only a few minutes before he spoke again. “What happens after 20 minutes?”

Hvitserk groaned and hung his head. “Must we go over this again? Björn made me recite it until I didn’t leave anything out.”

Ivar ignored him. “What happens after 20 minutes?” He spoke through clenched teeth.

“Björn and Ubbe enter through the French doors and disable the silent alarm. They have 30 seconds before it’s not silent anymore. If it goes off, we take off and hope they make it out. When it doesn’t go off, we wait for Ubbe’s text and we break in through the back door.

“We sneak upstairs, inject Aelle with a horse tranquilizer and haul him out of the house like used furniture.”

He turned to Ivar as if he was expecting some kind of commendation but Ivar just slapped his shoulder and pointed to the bedroom window. Hvitserk turned and saw that the light had gone out.

“Text Ubbe.” Ivar hissed.

Hvitserk rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Ivar kept his eyes on the window for any movement. He could feel Hvitserk shifting beside him. He was building up to something so he left his brother off the hook. “Was there something else, Hvitty?”

Hvitserk opened his mouth to answer but no words came out. Ivar turned to look at him and smirked. “Cat got your tongue?” Hvitserk narrowed his eyes and landed a solid punch to Ivar’s shoulder. Ivar chuckled and looked back at the bedroom window.

Hvitserk finally found his courage and asked, “So, you and Aaline, huh?”

Ivar slowly turned to face his brother who had no shame. “Well, she is my wife, Hvitserk. It comes with the territory.”

“No… well, yes, but… what I meant was…”

“I know what you meant. And yes, me and Aaline.”

Hvitserk grinned and he was trying so hard not to show his teeth that his face was tight with tension and his eyes nearly clenched shut.

“I knew it. It was only a matter of time. No one believed me. They all thought you would run her off. Said she was too smart for you but I knew you’d make it work. I knew it the minute I saw her. You can’t resist a challenge.”

Ivar had turned back to his brother and stared at him through narrowed eyes. “They all thought I’d run her off?”

“Well, yeah, but you didn’t.” Hvitserk stated like it was obvious.

“What else did they think?” Hvitserk looked over at Ivar and seemed to sense the danger he was in because he suddenly looked down at his nonexistent watch and hummed.

“Oh, look, it’s been 20 minutes.” Ivar watched Hvitserk stand and head towards the backdoor on tiptoes. He growled and followed swiftly behind.

They pressed back against the siding and waited.

Ivar glanced around the backyard, his adrenaline pumping. Hvitserk nudged him and jerked his head inside, indicating Ubbe’s signal. Ivar turned to the door and, with quick hands that won him Ragnar’s praise, he unlocked the door and shoved Hvitserk inside.

His brother cursed but otherwise did not react. Ubbe and Björn were in the kitchen.

“Everything’s set. We do this quick, we do this perfect. We’re in, we’re out. No one gets hurt.” Björn said.

“Except Aelle.” Hvitserk snorted. Ubbe slapped his arm and Hvitserk shrugged.

“Last bedroom on the left end of the hall.” Ivar said, leading the charge. The rest of his brothers followed behind on quiet feet. Ivar kept close to walls to limit the noise on the floorboards. As soon as he reached the landing, he took out his gun and attached his silencer. Björn glared as he passed him down the hall but Ivar ignored him. Hvitserk stopped beside him and took out the tranquilizers. He had three full syringes in his hand. Ivar gave him a look and he just shrugged.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” Ivar rolled his eyes and followed Ubbe.

Björn jerked his head towards the door and Ubbe nodded, wrapping his hand around the knob and turning. The door eked open and Ivar was the first inside.

He came around the left side of the bed, the side that Aelle’s wife, Ealhswith, slept. He watched as Ubbe and Björn came in, one standing at the foot of the bed and the other standing on Aelle’s side. Hvitserk was the last in.

He stepped up and knelt beside Aelle, removing the plastic covering from the first syringe. He smirked down at Aelle before plunging the needle into the side of his neck. “Sleep well, Aelle. It will be your last.”

As if his words were a trigger, Aelle’s eyes snapped open and his hand wrapped around Hvitserk’s throat.

Hvitserk spluttered and choked, his own hands coming up around Aelle’s wrist. Björn and Ubbe jumped forward, Ubbe helping Hvitserk tug against Aelle while Björn latched himself to Aelle’s back.

Aelle jerked forward, knocking the contents of his nightstand to the floor, waking his wife. She jerked up but was quickly met with the business end of Ivar’s gun. She didn’t even have time to scream before Ivar spoke.

“Scream and I’ll shoot you.” She snapped her jaw shut and stared at Ivar, tears streaming down her face. Ivar did not look away.

Aelle roared and yanked Hvitserk closer, spittle flying from his mouth. Hvitserk was turning a dangerous shade of purple.

“Hvitserk, the needles.” Björn grunted.

With help from Ubbe, Hvitserk plunged the two remaining syringes into Aelle’s neck. The Saxon flagged just a bit but his hold on Hvitserk didn’t lessen.

“Ivar! Help us!” Ubbe cried.

“Aelle.” Ivar called, his voice calm and soft.

The Saxon king turned his head and saw Ivar with his gun pointed at Ealhswith’s head. “Let him go or I’ll kill your wife.”

Aelle narrowed his eyes and pulled Hvitserk closer to him, his fingers flexing around his neck. Ivar watched the hand tighten around his brother’s throat before he turned cool, empty eyes to the weakened king. “You don’t believe me?”

With no preamble, Ivar fired a single shot between Ealhswith’s eyes.

The other men stopped, frozen as her body collapsed back onto the bed. A pool of blood leaked out onto the bed. A splatter pattern decorate the wall behind the headboard.

Aelle roared and released Hvitserk. He lunged toward the bed but Björn kept his hold tight and, with three horse tranquilizers in his system, Aelle was out in no time.

Hvitserk heaved and gasped in the corner, Ubbe hovering over him. Ivar glanced once to the body of Aelle’s wife before he stowed his gun.

“Ivar, we said…”

“I know what we said.” Ivar looked up at his oldest brother. Björn liked to stick to plans and it frustrated him when Ivar uphending these plans.

“We didn’t agree to kill his wife.” Björn hissed, his teeth clenched and his eyes hard.

“I know what we agreed but plans change. We didn’t plan on him waking up. We didn’t plan on him fighting as hard as he did. Frankly, I think this works in our favor.”

“A dead woman works in our favor?”

“Yes, he saw her die. He knows what we’re here for. He’ll beg for death in no time now that he knows what we’re willing to do.”

Ivar kept his gaze on Björn for a few more seconds before turning to Hvitserk who was standing now but with a ring of thick bruises already forming around his neck. “Alright, Hvitty?”

Hvitserk nodded, coughing, and clasped Ivar’s shoulder.

Ivar looked back at Björn before jerking his head towards Aelle’s body. “Let’s move. It’ll take time to drag him down the stairs and we don’t want anyone to see us leave.”

Tags: @dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @reyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff

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shannygoatgruff · 4 years ago

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Grown & SeXY - Chapter 2

Header made by the talented @flowers-in-your-hayr

For @youbloodymadgenius for your 400 Followers Writing Challenge. Congrats on your success!

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Pairing: Modern Ivar x Mature OC

Warning: Language/mild angst/Sexual content

Rating: M

Summary: A relationship between Generations X & Y will help this XX & XY learn a lot about themselves, each other, and love. Cougar/cub relationships aren’t always just about a midlife crisis and arm candy.

A/N: I got the concept for this story from a conversation I was having with @youbloodymadgenius. I hope I do it justice. This story is for you!

Chapter 2

Biiiiiitch! Where have you been? I’ve been IMing you but you been ducking me like I’m the IRS. Shit, I’m surprised we talking now - you mad at me or something? Did somebody tell you that they heard some shit about you from me? Because they were fucking lying. I wouldn’t do that. You know I don’t like all that gossip shit and I'm not one to put all people's business out on Front Street, like that.

So, girl, I need to holler at you about something right quick. What the hell is up with the non-disclosure agreement I sent you? Cause I damn sure didn’t get a signed copy back in my mailbox. Now, maybe I’m the slow bitch in the class, but it seems to me that there are a few more people in on our private meeting than just us, like we had previously discussed.

Now, I’m not saying that you said something, but I know I sure as hell didn’t. So, if I was over here keeping my sexy ass mouth shut (cause that how a bitch do) and you haven't said shit either, then who the fuck else is talking? You know, I bet it was probably those same bitches that were running around saying that they heard that I was talking shit about you. I tell you, people today ain't about shit. Well, fuck them.

Just so you know, I didn't call you to try to check you or anything. I called to try to catch you up on this grown and sexy shit cause bitch you are hella behind. Okay...I told you about how Marisol was at the club and met this fine ass little young boy at the bar, who turned out to be her high school BFF’s little brother, right? Did I tell you about how Marisol’s son and King Ding-A-Ling hate each other or how they met up at a party at his daddy’s house? Shit bitch, what do you know? I feel like I’m starting this shit all over at the beginning, again! Seriously hooker, keep up because before I can get into this shit, I have to set the scene.

So, you need all the dirt on Ivar’s family so moving forward you know what the fuck I’m talking about when I just start dropping shit on you like Pearl Harbor. Believe me, hon-ty when I tell you, these motherfuckers got some Telenovela, Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal type shit with them.

Alright now, let me start with his parents. You ever see a really attractive man and you figure, his daddy must have been cute when he was younger? Well, that’s Ivar’s daddy, Mr. Ragnar Lothbrok – or as I like to call him, Dick Daddy Yo.

Now, child, Dick Daddy is fine as a motherfucker. And, I’m not talking regular run-of-the-mill attractive for a man in his late 50s – early 60s, who was probably knocking down everything back in the day, type of fine, either. No Queen - I’m talking, this motherfucker could get it TODAY, immediately, right now, if he asked for it. Shit, bitch, quiet as kept, he wouldn’t even have to ask. All he would have to do is set those baby blue eyes in my direction, and I would hand him the drawers.

So, back in the day, when they still lived in Norway, Dick Daddy married this total dime piece named Lagertha. When I tell you she was a bad bitch, I mean she was a Bad Bitch! Shit, she still bad to this day thirty-some years later. She was built, blond and beautiful, plus that bitch could box. I don’t know what kind of thug shit they taught her over there in the old country where they came from, but this broad was like Ronda Rousey out there in those Kattegat streets.

Anyhoo, when Lagertha and Ragnar got married, she found out that Ragnar had that Super D and she knew she wasn't going to be able to keep all that good dick to herself because he liked to sling it all over town. So she told him to go do his dirt, but he better brings his fine ass home to her every night. Of course, he was all like, cool, he could have a dime piece at home and get cutty on the side…alright, bet!

Well, honey, next thing you know, he gets hooked up with this fatal attraction type, funny looking broad named, Aslaug. Girl, Aslaug gets dickmatized and follows Ragnar around like a puppy, and the next thing you know he had to figure out how to bring a whole ass side-chick home to his dime piece wife. He must of came back with some shit like, “Baby, you know that girl Aslaug can cook and she’ll do that thing that you don’t like to do…you know cause she a freak…so really, it’s a win-win for us both.”

So, I figure dude’s dick must have been dipped in platinum, because Lagertha was like, “Whatever, Dick Daddy,” cause the next thing you know all three of them are living together and these two bitches were sister-wives.

Chile! But, here’s where the shit gets juicy! Ooh, girl! The whole time Ragnar was out there in them streets, Lagertha’s sexy ass was knocking over his brother, Rollo, and word around the campfire is, one of them kids ain’t really Ragnar’s…biiiiiitttttttch! I can't make this shit up!

So anyway, by the time all those damn babies came all 50/11 of them moved here to that big blue house at the end of Greenwich, you know the one with the big ass fence front and the nice pool? The one that the young people always have all the parties at...yeah, that one well, that’s where they still live.

Now onto the kids. Honey, Ragnar has five maybe six kids that he’s claiming. I'm sure it's more out there, but I'm telling you about the ones I know about. First, you got the two he has with Lagertha; that’s Bjorn, and Gyda (that’s if don’t think Bjorn is Rollo’s son). But what the hell, I’ll take “Let’s Pretend That Bjorn Is Ragnar’s Kid” for $200, Alex…

So, Bjorn is the oldest of all of the kids. And what can I say about BJ? BJ is fucking…girl, he’s just fucking. He’s fucking any and everything. That man. Jesus jumped up. He’s about 6’3”, 250lbs, muscular, blond, these piercing blue eyes. This smile…strong jawline. He has these hands, right? These hands that you know could just grip you right up under your ass cheeks and hold you up against a wall, and these arms…gurl, make me want to faint like a white woman! Hmm.

BJ reminds me of Ragnar. Hell, all those kids remind me of him in some way, but Bjorn oozes sex like Ragnar. I don’t know what it is, but watch your uterus around him. If you stand too close to BJ, your pussy is liable to jump in his back pocket and you won’t even notice that it’s gone.

BJ has a shit-ton of kids though and has been married like 150 times. I don’t know what it is, but he finds these blonde women, fucks them, marries them, has 20 babies with, and then gets divorced. He’s a shitty husband, but I bet you he’s a fire ass lay.

Then there’s Gyda, we call her Da-Da. She’s just beautiful. Whew. She got those looks from both of her parents. It is honestly painful to look at her. She’s the charming side of Ragnar. The side that’ll have you naked and buying her ass a house and a car before the waiter finishes taking your order on the first date. It’s a good thing she’s a nice person because if she was an evil bitch, there’s no telling what she would be up to. She’s another tall one, with blonde hair and blue eyes. But, she’s built like her mother. This bitch looks like she needs to be holding a fundraiser where she’s wearing clear heels, in a strip club, called Twerking For Jesus or some shit.

Now, if those two gorgeous kids weren’t enough to make everyone else in the world jealous of how good the D and the seed were from Ragnar, he had to go and spread it around some more with that weird bitch, Aslaug. They have four boys; Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar. I don’t know how those boys ended up being so fine because Aslaug’s ass is not what I would call attractive. But, they got Ragnar’s genes and miracles never cease to amaze me.

All, but one, of them can get it any day.

Let’s start with Ubbe. It’s a long story, I don’t remember the particulars, but he’s known around the way as, Weebae. I can’t remember if it’s because he was small when as a baby, or because he used to cry all the damn time. But, whatever the case, if you hear a motherfucker asking for Weebae, they talking about Ubbe. Anyway, Wee is Ragnar’s twin. That child looks like Ragnar just spit him out on the street, only I don’t know where in the fuck he got his personality, cause Ragnar ain’t that fucking nice and Aslaug is a fucking cunt.

Have you ever met somebody that’s so damn nice, that they seem like a bitch ass? Like they are just softer than a motherfucker? Somebody that constantly lets people run over the top of him all the damn time and you just want to be like, yo you’s a giant whore! Well, that’s Wee. If he wasn’t so damn sexy, I would be like you soft, brah…get your punk ass away from me. But seeing as how fine he is, I’m like…bring your sensitive ass over here and let me make it all better, with your sexy self. Cause, you know, Mama loves the sensitive ones.

Who’s next? Oh, yeah, the next one is Hvitserk. I know it’s a fucked up name, but no one calls him that. They call him Boobie. Why do you ask? Because Boobie loves titties. I swear that boy was trying to get everybody to breastfeed him since he was born. The bigger a woman's boobs, the more Boobie is into her. But he's such a freaking cutie pie! He doesn’t look like Ragnar to me, but he reminds me of him in that way where as long as he can fuck and eat, he doesn’t give a fuck about much else. He’s the type that never has the same job or girlfriend for too long. He just goes with the flow and stays around until he gets bored.

Now Boobie favors Ragnar but not as much as some of the other kids. He’s got this cute baby face, with this sandy blonde hair and these pretty green eyes, like Aslaug. When you see him, you just want to pinch his cheeks on his face and his ass. And because he seems like such a little lost puppy, you just want to take him home, and take care of him…maybe tie him up to your bed and ride his ass like he’s Budweiser Clysdale in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, too.

Then there’s Sigurd…oh, Siggy. I call him, Brother Useless. He got all of Aslaug’s genes. It must be hard to look like Sigurd when you are born into that family. To be below average looking when you have extraordinarily attractive siblings, how does one go one with life? By being a giant dick, that’s how. Siggy fucking sucks donkey balls. He irks my fucking life. Siggy and I have history, outside of this little tale, and believe me he’s a dick in those stories, too.

Anyway, he looks just like his mama with facial hair. It’s really quite unfortunate. He reminds me of one of those Muppets off of the Dark Crystal. When I first found out that he was one of Ragnar’s sons, my first response was, I know you fucking lying! They should have just thrown the whole damn child away. See, Ragnar, that’s what happens when you go slumming with a funny looking chick…you get a funny looking kid with a fucked up personality. God don't like ugly...

But He redeemed your good name with Lil' Man. Oh, my sweet Ivar. This boy looks nothing like either of his parents but is the total embodiment of his father. Ivar is sexy. No, let me rephrase that for the bitches in the back...I said, IVAR IS SEXY. Bitch, I don’t know if there is even a word to describe the level of attractiveness this little bastard has. I don’t know if it’s that life-altering smile, or the dark hair and pale blue eyes. Shit, it could be that intense stare he has or those arms…or it could be that chest or maybe it’s that ass that you just want to bite and those lips that make you just want to sit on his face. Whatever it is about him, that boy makes you tingle in the most unladylike of places.

Now, when Ivar was born, something was wrong with him and he needed an operation. He was fine afterward, but Aslaug’s dramatical ass was acting like he was on his damn death bed and treated him like he was Samuel L. Jackson in Unbreakable. So, naturally, he grew up spoiled as shit. So now, this child don’t know how to do shit. He thinks everybody supposed to hand him everything, just because he’s cute.

Honey, short of my number and panties, he gonna have to work for everything else like everybody else. But see, you can’t tell fine, muscular, spoiled ass, motherfuckers, with beautiful eyes, killer smiles, nice hair, and that smell good all the fucking time that they’re not special. Oh, no, because they will try to prove you wrong. At least he finished college and doesn’t have any kids. But if his ass would get a job…Sorry, I’m skipping ahead.

Okay, so you have the background on the family. Now check out how this shit went down...

Being in the Lothbrok house brought back a ton of memories for Soli. She had spent a good part of her adolescence there with her best friend, Gyda. The two of them had countless sleepovers, movie marathons, and of course their love of all the teenage heartthrobs of the 80s and 90s. Teen Bop, Tiger Beat, and 17 Magazines fed their obsessions for Kirk Cameron, Corey Haim, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, and Mario Lopez. I was always a Joey Lawerence girl myself, but that’s neither here nor there.

That was until that one time the two of them got into this huge fight over who was going to marry Justin Timberlake. But then Bjorn told them that he thought Ryan Philippe was the same person and the girls realized that they did look a lot alike. So, Soli took JT and Gyda took Ryan, and they all lived happily ever after.

As she accepted the glass of champagne from the tray, Soli looked around the hallway leading out to the patio. It was amazing how different the house looked now. Since the remodel nothing was where she had remembered. The living room used to be to the left of the hallway, and there had been a large formal dining room to the right. They also used to have a huge kitchen right behind the dining room and then the family room sat just behind there, with the entrance to the back yard. It was always a good-sized house, but the way it was cut up, with these weird doorways and walls in the most awkward of places, it always felt cramped, especially with so many people living there.

But this? The open concept floor plan, no walls to obstruct the view...spacious, huge windows, lots of sunlight...it was gorgeous! Lothbrok Designs, LLC did one hell of a job. Everything from the floor plan to the decor was beautiful. Maybe Soli could get them to hook her up discount and do some work around her house.

“Hey there! I thought I saw you,” Gyda smiled walking over to Marisol with her arms out. “Oh Sonni, you look so good! I still can’t get over how you haven’t aged a bit. And girl, that body!”

Soli spun around in a circle to give her friend the full view. Even she had to admit, the off the shoulder, floral printed, Boho, maxi-dress looked damn good on her. Especially the way the soft pink color played with the beautiful warm tones in her toffee-colored skin. And honey, she was rocking this split that came all the up the front of the dress to the bodice, that would have been showing all of the church's business if it wasn't for that little white chiffon underdress thing. Honey...forty where? She was a banger and she knew it. “Well, you know forty is new twenty. I didn’t get to do my twenties right because I had Mani, but now I'm single and I'm ready to mingle! And you, Diva…”

“Well, thanks. You know...I get it from my Mama." Gyda did a little shimmy and laughed. "Thank you so much for coming. It’s so good to have you back in town. I know my parents are excited to see you again.” She looked around the room and waved at a guest who was walking by, “Everyone was excited that you said you were coming.”

Everyone? Why did Gyda say it like that? Soli was excited to catch up with the family, too, but damn. Soli knew that little cutie Ivar was going to be there, but that was nothing. A little innocent eye flirting at the bar a couple of weeks ago didn't mean anything. She hadn't seen or thought of that boy since. And she wasn't thinking about him today...well, not that much, anyway.

“Da-Da,” A gorgeous older blond man came up to Gyda and placed a soft kiss on the side of her head, before turning his attention to Soli. “No, you can’t be…Marisol Peña? The young lady I saw as much as my daughter growing up?” Ragnar walked over to Soli and wrapped her in a warm hug.

Soli chuckled and shook her head when she felt his hands linger at her waist a second longer than they should have. “Oh, Mr. Lothbrok,” Soli she patted him lightly on the chest taking a half step back to take in that beautiful smile, “Oh, it’s been too long. You still look good.” She smiled, feeling his hands slowly move down her side to now rest on her hips.

“And you still are as beautiful as ever,” he said leaning in toward her to talk to her. He had always had this strange way articulating certain words and sometimes he would get uncomfortably close when he would talk to people. Gyda used to get embarrassed because her father would get all up on her friends when he spoke to them, but Marisol always thought it was kind of sexy the way he would breathe on her when he talked.

She felt herself being hypnotized momentarily by all that sexy, but she quickly regained her senses. “Mr. Lothbrok,” she tutted keeping a careful eye on him as he slowly walked around her in a circle with a sly grin on his face, “I see you're still as smooth as ever.”

It was fluid the way Ragnar brushed his face next to Soli’s ear to whisper in his sexy accent, making the tendrils of hair tickle her neck, “Ragnar.”

"Ragnar," she giggled. He was still a DILF, even after all these years.

“Ragnar?” A feminine voice called causing everyone to turn toward a tall strawberry-blonde in flowing green empire dress standing at the patio door, “Come, lunch is ready and we will have cake.” For as tall and thin as she was the dress did nothing for her. A hottie like Lagertha could have pulled it off, but not her. Although, the navy blue and dark green embroidery did accentuate the red in her hair and her green eyes.

Soli’s eyes widened as she turned to Gyda, devastated. “Is that Aslaug?” she whispered. As they all began walking through the house toward the backyard she found herself laughing at the expression on Gyda's face. “Bitch, shut up.” Oh, they had so much to catch up on.

Judging by how good Aslaug looked, she had had some work done. She was still funny looking, but she looked a whole hell of a lot better than she did when Soli knew her.

Time seemed to fly by for Soli as she sat in backyard eating, laughing, and drinking with her childhood friend. She had forgotten how much she missed Gyda. But being with her and the family, it felt like they never missed a beat. She even sat at the table reserved for Ragnar's kids and had no problem catching up with each one of them. Oh, the gossip she found out about sitting there.

For example, Weebae was married to BJ's ex-wife, Torvi, who left BJ with four children and is now having a baby with Bae. And you know the crazy thing is all of them are still talking like nothing ever happened? Or how about this, apparently something happened between Siggy and Ivar - no one is talking about what it is yet, but the two of them don't talk. They can be sitting at the same table and won't utter two words to each other. And did you know that none of the brothers knew why Soli and Gyda fell out all those years ago? I know, but that ain’t my place to say, so done tucked that one way down deep in my bra, honey. All I know is I could write a whole other story about this damn family’s shenanigans alone!

“Man, I wish I could remember that!” Siggy laughed throwing his napkin on his plate. “I would have loved to see the look on Bae’s face!” He gently nudged his brother’s arm as he continued to make fun of him.

Ubbe shook his head and lowered his eyes as the stain of blush colored his cheeks, “I can’t believe that was you,” he said to Soli, “I remember running through the house naked, but I never remembered why.”

Soli smiled around her glass of wine, trying her best to ignore the incredibly attractive younger man sitting next to her. "I remember why. I remember that little birthmark on your ass, too."

Gyda laughed putting the last of her spoonful of cake in her mouth. “Oooh, Beege, do you remember that time we were playing Van Damme and you ended up in the emergency room?”

Bjorn rolled his eyes and tried to cover his brow with his hand, “Of course I remember! How could I forget?” He started rubbing his inner thigh at the memory. He looked around the table at all of his brothers’ faces who were rapted with excitement, smiles already plastered on their faces, dying to hear the story. “So, I might have been about 13, Da-Da and Soli might have been around 11 or so. Anyway, we used to always watch Daddy's Jean-Claude Van Damme movies. I was obsessed - he was a total bad-ass to me. We had no business watching them because they were rated R and too violent for us to be watching, but we didn't care. And after the movies, we always would play Van Damme and act out our own scenes but do all the karate moves we just saw.”

“But, he always thought he automatically got to be Van Damme because he was a boy, and he always tried to make me the stupid female sidekick. I wanted to be the badass female Van Damme, ya know?" Soli said rolling her eyes.

“Wait, where was Da-Da?” Ubbe asked.

“I always wanted to be the bad guy,” Gyda shrugged, “What? It was fun.”

"Yeah, we used to whip her ass, "Soli laughed, “So, this one day BJ and I got in this big argument about who should get to be Van Damme in our reenactment. Of course, he thought he should be because he’s a boy, and I said that I should be because I could do the split. You remember the splits he used to do, right?” She looked around the table and watched everyone nod.

That is, all except one, “No…he’s the guy with that show on HULU now, right?” Ivar asked, turning in his chair so that his outstretch leg brushed Soli’s shin under the table. “He used to do action movies?”

Rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the question, Soli reached into her small clutch bag and pulled out her phone. “I keep forgetting you’re a child. Of course, you don’t know anything about Jean-Claude Van Damme. When were you born, like 6 months ago?” She quickly found a picture of the Van Damme split online and handed her phone to Ivar.

“So, in the movie Double Impact, he did the split when he had his legs on these chairs and his pelvis was suspended between them…I knew I could do it. I had been taking gymnastics since I was six. But BJ, thought because he was a boy he was naturally superior.”

“Oh God, Beege…what happened?” Hvitserk asked popping open another beer.

“The chairs moved, man.” Bjorn said sadly, “Daddy had to take me to the hospital. My nuts twisted; sprained my dick.” He tried to hold back his laugh but listening to how funny his brothers found his childhood misfortune made Bjorn laugh, too. “Never played Van Damme again.”

“And you never bet against me again, that’s for sure.” Soli felt Ivar’s hand brush against the side of hers and when she turned to face him he was handing back her phone. She noticed that when he leaned over toward her that the first two buttons of his classic white button-down shirt were undone, exposing his thick neck, and collarbone to her. Would it be rude if she tried to get a peek down his shirt? She didn't think so. What was rude was him smelling like a clean ocean breeze or wearing that damn white shirt against his tanned skin.

Ivar put the phone in her open palm and closed his hand around hers. The hint of a smile started with one corner of his mouth and as his tongue darted out of his mouth and started worrying the bottom corner of the lip.

“So, um…you can do that split, huh?” There it was. That come sit on my face smile. She had to watch out for this little bastard.

“Yep and I can do it on a handstand,” she whispered back, and winked at him, pursing her lips to keep herself from smiling. God, this kid was so damn cute, but she shouldn't be flirting with him, even if it was who she was by nature. He was too young. It was too wrong. He was too sexy. She hadn’t had sex in a very long time. This was tricky. She knew the family. He had muscles. “Close your mouth there, Baby Ivey.” She patted his shoulder feeling the striations under her fingertips. That was another thing, she had to stop touching him!

“Hey Mom,” Soli’s son, Mani walked over to the table she was sitting at wearing a nice pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. She had made him promise to drop by for a minute, just to say hi to some of her childhood friends before he went to a party of his own. The things he did for that woman.

“There’s my Baby Boy!” Soli said, standing up. “Mani, I want you to meet my second family when I was growing up. This was my best friend, Gyda, and her brothers Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar.” She gestured her hand to each person as she said their names. “Everyone, this is my son, Miguel.”

Ivar smiled and stood up, offering his hand to shake, “I remember you from school. Cartoon Boy, right?”

Mani’s posture stiffened and his warm brown eyes hardened almost instantly, “I don’t remember Jock Strap.” Mani had hated Ivar since they were in high school. Even as a teenager he thought Ivar Raganarsson was a dick. He was an entitled asshole who thought the world owed him something. He had walked around that school like he was the shit and because Mani was younger, smaller and didn’t play sports, Ivar just fucking sucked toward him. He never bullied him, but he always acted like Mani was beneath him.

Well, fuck Ivar and his big ass beaver teeth smile…got on his fucking nerves. Mani turned his attention to the rest of the table. “It was nice to meet all of you, but I have another engagement. I just stopped by to drop something off to my mom.”

“Excuse me,” Soli said getting up from the table. She was ready to punch Mani in the throat. She had specifically told him that when he came to the house not to say anything insulting to Ivar. And if she had to listen to one more minute of how much Mani hated Ivar she was going to scream. Since she told him about that first time seeing him at the bar all she had heard was how much of an asshole Ivar had been in high school and how he stole the lead in the school play Mani’s sophomore year. Did she care? Not at all. Mani was 22 years old now and he was still holding a grudge about something that happened when he was 15.

She walked back into the house with her son following him to the front door. The fake she was forcing was hurting her face. “What the fuck was that, Mani?”

“You see him with that Fuck Boy Ricky hairstyle? I swear Mom, he’s a total Dickbag.” Mani rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “And you're friends with his people? That's a whole new level of douchery, even for you, Mom.”

“Oh my, God…I’m not. Not right now.” She got on her tiptoes to kiss her son on the cheek. “Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I’m telling you, watch that fucktard.”

"Get out," Soli pushed her son out of the door and sighed. This was reason number 4,037 why she never dated. Mani hated and had something to say about everyone. Not saying that she wanted to date Ivar or anything, but just saying that Mani had a problem with every male that she was even friendly with. It was hopeless. Her ex-husband was going to be the last man she’d ever have sex with. Oh, the humanity of it all...

Soli walked back to the family table with a fresh glass of wine and sat back with a smile as she watched the siblings pose for their family photos. The pictures were going to be gorgeous - they were a beautiful family. There were so many photos being taken, too. There were poses of Ragnar, both his wives, all of his children, and grandchildren. Even the photos of the divisions of the families were beautiful. But the most captivating thing to Soli was that Ivar was the photographer.

He was so patient and genuinely seemed to be having a good time doing it. He was a natural. He laughed as he directed his family and smiled a huge, smile with every picture he took. He was engaging and extremely creative. Looking at him, she would have never have guessed he had an artistic side to him. When Soli realized that she had a full-blown smile on her face watching Ivar and not the family she shook her head and grabbed her phone for a distraction.

Taking a sip of wine, she checked her text messages and almost choked. There as only one missed message and it was from a number that she didn't recognize. He must have called himself on her phone to get her number.

She couldn't stop the big ass smile from spreading across her face as she read:

‘Splits and handstands? I💓 gymnastics! ~ Baby Ivey’

So, girl, that’s what happened with that. Don’t worry, we are about to get into the good shit, I promise. I'm telling this story honey and bitch I'm building suspense.

I'll talk to you later girl. And next time, I ping you, answer your girl. Don’t be screening me like I’m that dude at the club that you trying to get rid of.

Chapter 1

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius @idea-garden @kol--mikaelson @mooniemouse @didiintheblog @waiting4inspiration @tempt-ress @where-beauty-goes-to-die @crazyaboutmotleycrue @oddsnendsfanfics @geekandbooknerd @ivarthebloodyking @honestsycrets @xbellaxcarolinax @zuxiezendler @inforapound @a-mess-of-fandoms

#alex andersen #Alex hoegh #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh fanfiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok fic #ivar fanfic #ivar the boneless #vikings fanfic #vikings fandom #alex høgh andersen fanfiction #alex høgh fanfiction #grown & seXY #usershannygoatgruff #shannyland #gyda #bjorn ironside

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hysterialevi · 4 years ago

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Eitr | Chapter 7

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT MORNING

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, Sigurd stared bleakly out through the tall window in front of him as he watched people gather at the main gate and huddle together in the cold, waiting for the arrival of their beloved Thegn.

At the moment, he was fidgeting with a simple dagger in his hands and twirling the sharp blade between his fingers, silently contemplating to himself about what to do next.

He was already suited up in his armor and ready to join the siblings down at the front of the castle, but despite the urgency of the day’s agenda, Sigurd found himself completely devoid of any motivation.

He just... didn’t know what the point of this was anymore. Why was he still fighting? Why was he bothering trying to survive? Even if he somehow managed to make it through this storm that was now headed his way, Sigurd failed to see what he would gain from struggling against its binds.

Eivor was dead. Randvi was dead. Everyone he loved had been slaughtered, and damned to the icy pits of Helheim for eternity. There was no hope of ever seeing them again, and with Aegenwulf’s men constantly kicking him down, Sigurd wondered if he should’ve just given in to them.

It didn’t matter much to him if he didn’t make it to Valhalla. The rest of his family was in Hel, anyway. The only thing left in his life that carried any sort of significance was the temptation of revenge, and even that seemed far out of reach.

But... what if this was what the Nornir intended for him? What if he was never meant to reunite with his brother? Had the gods placed Sigurd on this path in order to lead him to peace? Or were they simply driving him towards vengeance?

Well, whatever the case was, Sigurd wasn’t ready to throw his hands up in defeat just yet. He still had some strength left in him, and Tyr willing, he would use it to take Algar down once and for all.

“...I’m going to kill him, Eivor...” he whispered lifelessly, gazing at the weapon in his hands. “His death may not bring you back, but at least I can reclaim the honor he stole from us. I owe you that much, after everything that’s happened.”

Slowly rising from the bed, Sigurd slid the dagger back into its sheathe and adjusted the cloak hanging from his shoulders, striding over to the door. He wasn’t eager to present himself to the judgmental eyes of Forangal’s people, or deal with Algar’s nonsense once again, but for the sake of avoiding suspicion, he simply stifled his rage and put on a neutral face, hoping to conceal the fire that burned within.

He may not’ve been in a position to do anything just yet, but Sigurd had faith that his moment for revenge would come. Things like this often came when one least expected it, and in spite of all the suffering he had endured thus far, a part of him still hoped that the gods would grant him the opportunity eventually.

He was just one man at the end of the day, but he carried the strength of his entire clan with him. And that gave him power.

Swinging the door open, Sigurd nearly stepped out into the corridor until he noticed someone else standing his tracks, causing him to come to an abrupt halt. Their fist was raised in the air as if they were just about to knock on the door, and judging by the perturbed look on their face, Sigurd assumed it wasn’t for a good reason.

He took a step back, stopping to greet his visitor.

“Edric?” Sigurd said, somewhat surprised.

A wave of relief washed over the young man’s expression. “Ah, Sigurd. There you are. I was looking for you.”

“You were? Is there something you need, my lord?”

“No,” Edric replied, his voice gentle with care. “I merely wanted to see how you were doing. I saw Edlynne and Joseph heading down to the main gate earlier, but you weren’t with them. And you certainly weren’t with me, so I feared something may have happened.”

Sigurd threw him a puzzled glance. “...Such as?”

The nobleman leaned against the doorframe, lowering the volume of his voice. “...People have been whispering ever since Algar spoke with you yesterday. They say you stormed out of his chambers like a beast on the hunt, and even Edlynne confessed she was worried about you. Did... something happen between you and Algar? He didn’t harm you, did he?”

Sigurd shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just...”

The Norseman trailed off into silence, reluctant to say more. He did not wish to lie to Edric, but he knew the consequences of what would happen if he told the truth.

“...He and I have our own disputes to settle.” Sigurd answered vaguely, his tone sharp with spite. “It is not something I wish to burden you with.”

Edric furrowed his brow in concern and let out a quiet sigh, unsure of what else to say. He had attempted to break down the wall between him and Sigurd more than a few times now, but it was evident that the man was adamant on keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I wish Algar wouldn’t hound you so often.” The young lord said. “He has no right to belittle you in such a way, and yet my father does nothing to tighten his reins. He’d do well to remind that man of his place.”

Sigurd remained stoic. “I can handle him, Edric. Algar is no more than a snake. His time will come.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but still... tensions are high enough as it is in Wedenscire. The last thing we need is Algar striking a flame with his constant war-mongering.”

The viking almost laughed aloud at Edric’s words. If only he knew.

“Well, anyway,” the Saxon continued, “enough of that. We have a thegn to greet. Raedan and his family are nearly at Forangal, and I’d prefer not to keep them waiting. Bear in mind, though, Sigurd -- should you ever need to get your thoughts out in the open, I’m always willing to lend an ear. I know how detrimental it can be to one’s well-being when they carry such burdens alone.”

Sigurd gave him an appreciative nod. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll remember that.”

Edric chuckled affectionately. “You know you can just call me Edric, right? There’s no need for such formalities.”

“Your father would disagree.”

The young man dismissed the concern. “My father is his own man, and so am I. You may be my bodyguard, but I see no need to treat you like a servant.”

The Norseman returned the smile. “...Very well, then. Edric it is.”

“Good.” Edric replied, removing himself from the doorframe. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get going?”

Sigurd reached an arm out, gesturing down the hallway. “Lead on.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE MAIN GATE

Standing alongside one other, Joseph and Edlynne stuck together at the front of the crowd as they waited in anticipation for Raedan’s arrival, eager to see the man and his family after all these years.

Even though they feared what would happen once he learned of Sigurd’s presence, the twins couldn’t deny that they were excited to see their father’s old friend again. It had been a long time since the thegn last set foot in Forangal thanks to the troubles of the war, and his children were also good friends with the twins themselves.

On the downside though, they were well aware of Raedan’s views towards vikings. He had lost family members of his own to their raids, and they had no doubts that Sigurd’s recent promotion would strain the peace a bit.

Fortunately however, Raedan was known to be a more respectable man. Unlike Algar, he valued diplomacy and restraint just as much as he did battle-prowess. He knew when one was more important than the other, and God willing, the twins hoped he’d be able to see sense today.

If not, Lord only knew what would happen.

“Bloody hell,” Joseph muttered, rubbing his hands together. “It’s freezing. Raedan couldn’t have arrived when the sun was higher in the sky?”

Edlynne rolled her eyes at her brother’s complaints. “Certainly, if you don’t mind him being delayed again.”

“I’m just saying, I’m much more of a gentleman when I’m not freezing my balls off.”

“Joseph...!” She scolded, reminding him of his vulgarity.

“Oh, relax. I won’t speak that way when Raedan’s around.”

Edlynne humorously raised a brow at him. “But you’ll speak that way in front of me?”

“You don’t have a great-sword sitting on your back.”

“Hush, you two.” A third voice jumped in, bringing the twins’ attention elsewhere.

Edlynne glanced to her side, feeling her chest loosen with relief once she saw who it was.

“Edric! You found Sigurd.”

“Indeed. I stopped by his chambers on the way here.”

The girl turned to the viking. “And you, Sigurd? Everything’s alright, I hope?”

The bodyguard nodded. “I’m well, Edlynne. You needn’t worry about me. I... apologize if I frightened you.”

Edlynne shook her head. “You didn’t frighten me. I was only concerned about what Algar may have done to you. I know how insufferable that man can be.”

Sigurd chuckled. “As do I. Believe me.”

Joseph let out a disapproving sigh. “That bastard looked awfully smug this morning when he was waltzing around with father. I have a bad feeling about where this is going. It’s never a good sign when someone like Algar is in high spirits.”

Edric stood next to the twins, placing himself closest to the gate. “Well, it won’t do us any good to speculate based on rumors. Now be quiet, both of you. Raedan and his family will be here soon. And for God’s sake, remember your manners.”

Joseph grinned playfully. “Yes, mother.”

Taking his position among the siblings, Sigurd lingered quietly beside them as he watched Aegenwulf’s guards get into formation, surrounding the gate in an orderly fashion.

Everywhere around him, he saw banners with Aegenwulf’s sigil flying proudly in the wind as they stood tall under the great white sky, dancing wildly in the breeze.

It was the same banner that would’ve been flying over Ravensthorpe by now if Algar hadn’t kept the ambush a secret. Much like a gravestone, they seemed to tower over the entire castle like a testament to the cruelty of their ealdorman’s housecarl, and every time Sigurd looked at it, he couldn’t help but think of all the souls that were lost on that tragic night.

“Open the gate!” One of the guards cried from the battlements, breaking Sigurd out of his thoughts. “Thegn Raedan has arrived!”

Taking hold of the gate’s controls, the guards began to steadily turn the mechanism as the castle opened itself to its esteemed guest, causing everyone inside the walls to fall into silence.

Within the blink of an eye, an entire unit of soldiers had poured in through the entrance and filled the space with an impressive display of knights, all of them dressed head-to-toe in armor. Maroon capes fluttered behind them as they rode into Forangal on horseback, and in the center of their party, Sigurd spotted Thegn Raedan himself, sitting atop his mount in a dignified manner.

Sigurd had to admit, the man wasn’t what he expected. Contrary to the clean-cut, pristine nobleman he had envisioned in his head, Raedan actually looked much rougher in reality.

He was a tall, burly Saxon with the pride of a king, and the mindset of a warrior. His hair was long, brown, untamed, and he had a bushy beard clinging onto his chin. Streaks of grey could be seen dotting the wild strands of his mane, and on his neck, Sigurd noticed a simple cross hanging from a string.

As for the man himself, Raedan appeared to be slightly younger than Aegenwulf. His skin wasn’t creased with quite as many wrinkles, but it was still clear that he had experienced his own fair share of battle. A multitude of faint scars dusted the surface of his flesh, and hiding just underneath his sleeve, Sigurd could’ve sworn he saw an old burn clutching onto his wrist.

The Saxon thegn was certainly a sight to behold, and just based on the sheer amount of soldiers that were within his company, the Norseman thought it was safe to assume that Joseph’s instincts were probably right. A war was definitely brewing behind closed doors, and Raedan was going to play a vital role in it.

“Raedan, my friend!” Aegenwulf greeted joyously, strolling down the center of the courtyard with Algar in tow. The housecarl threw a side glance at Sigurd along the way, grinning in malice.

“Aegenwulf, you old dog!” Raedan replied with a hearty guffaw, dismounting his horse. “There you are! Lord knows I’ve missed that ugly face!”

The ealdorman laughed. “And I, yours.”

The two of them met in the middle, embracing each other in a friendly hug.

“Oh, Aegenwulf,” Raedan said, his tone softened by a tinge of nostalgia, “it’s been far too long, old friend. Far too long.”

“Yes, it has. I fear I have grown weary of this war in the recent years. It is a blessing to see you again.”

Raedan separated the hug, looking the ealdorman in the vehemently eye. “Indeed. I... heard about what happened to Gareth. Terrible shame, that. He was a fine warrior. Wise beyond his years. He will be eternally missed.”

Aegenwulf’s gaze fell to the ground. “Yes. My heart still bleeds for him everyday. His loss has left a crack in the foundation of our family, but with your help, I’m hoping that a fate like his will never be repeated.”

The thegn patted him firmly on the shoulder. “Of course. My sword is yours, Aegenwulf. Always.”

Bringing their conversation to a pause, the rest of Raedan’s family joined the scene, happily walking up to the ealdorman.

“Lady Moira,” Aegenwulf said with a smile, approaching Raedan’s wife. “The years have been much kinder to you, it seems.”

The woman beamed at him. “You flatter me, Aegenwulf. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I know my children have certainly missed the familiar walls of Forangal.”

“How are Henry and Sibley? I trust they are doing well?”

She stepped to the side, revealing two adolescents behind her. “You can ask them yourself. Children, you remember Ealdorman Aegenwulf, don’t you?”

The older sibling, Henry, gave the man a timid nod of acknowledgement. He appeared to be around the same age as Joseph, and had a head of blond hair.

“H-Hello, my lord.”

Moira let out a soft tsk. “Oh, come now, Hal. There’s no need to be shy. You’ve known Aegenwulf and his family ever since you were just a child.”

The ealdorman chuckled. “The boy’s behavior is understandable. It’s been years since we last met. I fear our memory has faded somewhat. Though, it’s clear he’s grown into a fine young man.”

“Indeed,” Moira agreed. “He’s becoming more and more like his father everyday. Apart from the poetry, that is.”

Aegenwulf quirked a brow. “You write poetry?”

Henry knotted his hands together. “...I-It’s nothing special, really.”

“Take pride in your passions, young man. They are the things that define us, after all.”

The ealdorman brought his attention to Henry’s little sister, Sibley. She was a young girl -- roughly a year or two behind Edlynne -- and shared her father’s hazel-colored hair.

“And Lady Sibley, how do you fare in these trying times?”

“I’m well, considering the circumstances.” She replied. “I think me and my brother are both just shaken up by the Danes we encountered yesterday.”

Aegenwulf shot Raedan a concerned glance. “You encountered Danes?”

The other man crossed his arms. “Not quite. As my messenger told you, we saw them wandering around in the woods near Agenbury. They were a little too close for comfort, but fortunately, they seemed to be too preoccupied with other matters to notice us. However, I did note that they were heading this way.”

The ealdorman rubbed his chin in thought. “Is that so?”

“Yes. You were wise to call for me, Aegenwulf. I fear that trouble will soon be knocking on your door.”

“Hmm. Then perhaps it’d be best if we got to work as soon as possible.”

Raedan held a hand up. “Hold on a moment, old friend. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The ealdorman paused. “Am I--? Oh! Yes.” He turned around to face his own family, guiding the thegn to the crowd that stood before them.

“You remember my son, Edric.” Aegenwulf said, gesturing to the young man.

Raedan laughed in disbelief, eyeing the boy from head-to-toe.

“Edric? Is that you, lad?”

The nobleman smiled at him. “Hello, Raedan. It’s good to see you again.”

“My God,” Raedan remarked cheerfully, patting Edric on the shoulder. “Look at that beard! And you’ve become so much taller as well. You’re growing far too fast, young man. You and I will have to spar sometime.”

The thegn brought his focus to the twins. “And Joseph and Edlynne. My goodness... the last time I saw you both, you were no higher than my knees. Now look at you. Standing tall and proud like a true set of nobles. Aegenwulf must be pleased.”

Edlynne’s expression radiated at the compliment. “We missed you, Raedan. And your family as well. It’s been so long since we last had the opportunity to get together.”

Raedan nodded. “Aye. Feels like an eternity ago. I trust you and your brother are staying safe?”

Joseph shrugged. “As safe as we can be, my lord.”

“It gladdens me to hear it.”

Letting his gaze travel further down the crowd, Raedan suddenly came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Sigurd standing at the twins’ side, studying his every move like a wolf watching from the woods.

Neither of them said anything to each other, but purely based on the slight shift in Raedan’s mood, everyone could tell that a sense of unease had settled into the courtyard.

“...You have a Dane with you?” Raedan asked, his tone completely devoid of any warmth.

Aegenwulf walked up to the two of them, hoping to calm his friend’s nerves. “He’s a Norse, actually. This is Sigurd the Lone Wolf. He joined us recently.”

“Joined?”

“Yes. He is the one responsible for protecting my children.”

Raedan tilted his head. “A Norse bodyguard? In Forangal? Are you certain that’s wise, old friend?”

The ealdorman didn’t appear bothered. “Sigurd has yet to give me a reason to distrust him. In fact, he’s been quite efficient in his duties. He’s a skilled warrior, and he knows the consequences he will have to face should he betray my hospitality.”

“I certainly hope so. Norsemen are formidable warriors, yes, but they don’t like to be ordered around. Trying to control them is like trying to tame the ocean. It’s an endeavor doomed to end in futility.”

Raedan stared into Sigurd’s ice-cold eyes, deciding to let the matter go for now. “...But I trust your judgement, Aegenwulf. If you feel this man is no threat to us, then I shan’t press any further. Though, a little caution would not be ill-advised. There’s a fire in this one. You’d do best to put it out.”

Aegenwulf took his friend’s opinion to heart. “Oh, believe me. I shall.”

Putting the subject aside, the ealdorman led the thegn away from the crowds and guided him into the castle, eager to carry on with their day.

“Come, let’s take this to the war room. We have much to discuss. Your family can get settled in their chambers in the meantime. My twins will show them the way.” Aegenwulf glanced back at his children. “Edric! I want you to join us.”

The nobleman stepped forward. “And Sigurd? What about him?”

“Let him stay. This conversation is for our ears only.”

“...Very well.”

Following his father to the war room, Edric swiftly strode away from the crowds and tagged along with the two Saxons, sticking close to them as Algar tailed them from behind.

Meanwhile, Sigurd remained with the twins and silently clung to the shadows, unwilling to open himself up to conversation. He had been in a foul mood ever since his exchange with Algar the previous day, and he had no interest in socializing at the moment.

“Joseph, Edlynne,” Henry said shyly, approaching the twins. “I’m glad to see you two are doing well after all these years.”

The girl returned the gesture. “And you, Hal. I have to admit, part of me was worried when we heard why you were delayed. Hopefully you didn’t run into too much trouble on the way here?”

Moira jumped in. “We’re quite alright, Edlynne. We arrived unscathed, thank the Lord. These Danes were not so aggressive as the others we have seen in the past. Though, I must confess, I am somewhat...” her gaze traveled to Sigurd, “...skeptical, shall we say, about your new friend here.”

Edlynne looked up at the Norseman, placing a friendly hand on his arm. “You mean Sigurd? Have no fear, Lady Moira. He won’t harm you. Unless, of course, you give him a reason to.”

“Is he Christian?”

The twins paused at that.

“No,” Joseph answered. “Why does it matter?”

The expression on Moira’s face said it should’ve been obvious. “Well, it’s difficult to trust the word of a heretic. If he has not converted to Christianity yet, I’d suggest working on that as soon as possible. I’d feel much better knowing that your safety were in the hands of a God-fearing man rather than a heathen. It’s just easier that way.”

Sigurd already grew tired of the woman’s imposing nature. “Leave me to my gods, Saxon, and I shall leave you to yours.”

Edlynne felt her heart skip at the viking’s dismissive response, attempting to reconcile with the noblewoman.

“Erm, w-what he means is, he may not be a Christian himself, but he bears no ill will towards those who are.”

Moira let out a breath, clearly somewhat offended. “...So I see.”

Joseph hurriedly switched topics, hoping to ease the tension between them. “S-Shall we show them to their rooms, sister? They’ve had a long journey, after all. Perhaps now would be a good time to let them rest.”

“Yes,” Edlynne fervently agreed. “Follow us, Lady Moira. We’ll show you where you and your family can stay. In the meantime,” she glanced at Sigurd, “maybe it’d be best if you stayed here...?”

It didn’t take long for him to catch the hint. “If that’s what you wish, my lady.”

“Very good. We’ll see you later then, Sigurd.”

Rushing Moira and her family away from the main gate, the twins eagerly separated them from the bodyguard and brought them into the castle, leaving Sigurd all by himself in the courtyard.

If the man was being honest, part of him felt relieved that Joseph and Edlynne left him behind. He didn’t wish to create conflict between Aegenwulf’s family and his new guests, but he feared he was on a short fuse today.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Eivor. Algar had yet to be forthcoming about the details surrounding his death, and thus, Sigurd had been left to the cruelty of his imagination, forced to come up with his own conclusion.

Anything could’ve happened to the man. For all he knew, Eivor could’ve died honorably as a warrior worthy of Odin’s halls just as Algar said, or... he could’ve died in a pile of ash, forsaken by the gods and desecrated by the housecarl’s atrocities.

Whatever the case was, Sigurd feared that he was falling into a darkness similar to the one that loomed over Aegenwulf. An insatiable desire for revenge burned deep within his veins, and he felt as if the world was swallowing him whole. A grief unlike any other relentlessly consumed his thoughts, and the harsh reality of his isolation in Forangal only made matters worse.

He was the only Norse here; the only one to fight in Odin’s name. Everyone else in the castle viewed him as a mad heretic, and even with those who may have been more cordial, Sigurd still found himself unable to be completely truthful.

He was no more than an outcast inside these walls. Aegenwulf’s children may have treated him with respect, but in the end, Sigurd knew this place would never be his home.

His heart remained lost somewhere in the depths of Norway, and he wanted nothing more than to return to its icy shores. A voice more ethereal than that of any skald’s called him home, and he longed desperately to break free from his chains.

“Ugh, those Saxons...” a stranger suddenly said in Sigurd’s ear, “...always bleating like sheep. Is it any wonder that their kings have fallen so easily in our presence?”

The viking exchanged looks with the man at his side, confused about his remark. Much like Sigurd himself, the stranger was also wearing a suit of Saxon-made armor, and yet, he spoke in the language of the Norsemen.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sigurd asked.

The stranger lifted the visor of his helm, revealing a face marked with Nordic tattoos.

Sigurd’s eyes widened in realization. “...You’re a Norse...”

The man nodded, smirking subtly at him. “So are you, it seems. Convenient, don’t you think, how the Nornir have brought us together today?”

The bodyguard stumbled over his words, unsure of what exactly was going on. “I-I don’t understand. What’s Thegn Raedan doing with a Norse in his company?”

“Oh, he doesn’t know we’re here,” he explained. “That’s the whole point of the helms, you see.”

“We?” Sigurd caught. “There’s more of you?”

The man slid the visor back down, concealing his identity. “Indeed. So it’d probably be best if you avoided drawing any attention to us, lest we start a war with these sheep, yes?”

Sigurd lowered his voice, admittedly intrigued by the stranger’s motives. “Who are you? What are you doing here? What is it you want?”

“Before I answer your questions, allow me to raise one of my own.”

The bodyguard sighed. “Very well. But make it quick. I haven’t much time before those ‘sheep’ return.”

The man flicked his head from side-to-side, checking to make sure no one was listening.

“Your name is Sigurd, yes? That’s what the ealdorman said? Well, I’m curious, you wouldn’t happen to be the son of Styrbjorn, would you? The drunkard king?”

He froze upon hearing the question. “...How do you know my name?”

A chuckle escaped the stranger’s lips. “So that’s a ‘yes,’ then. Good. I’ve traveled a long way to find you, Sigurd. You’re not an easy man to locate. Though, I must admit, I expected to find you in the dungeons, chained as a prisoner. Not standing among Wedenscire’s nobility. You’ve certainly climbed up in the world, haven’t you?”

“They don’t know who I really am,” he said. “But set that aside for now. Why were you looking for me?”

“Because your brother asked me too.”

Sigurd shot a bewildered glare at the other man, unable to stifle the flame that flared up inside him.

Did he just say Eivor sent him? What sort of ruse was this? There was no way he could’ve been telling the truth. Eivor was dead -- Algar had made that quite clear.

He instantly grabbed the stranger’s collar and pulled him close, leaning into his face. “What do you mean my brother sent you? Is this meant to be some sort of jest? Explain yourself!”

“Easy, drengr...” he soothed, holding onto Sigurd’s arm. “Your brother’s in East Anglia at the moment, under Oswald’s care. He arrived with your wife about a week ago, not too long after the ambush. They were both wounded and in need of help. Sadly, your wife succumbed to her injuries. Eivor, on the other hand, remains alive and well.”

The news hit Sigurd like a sword to the chest. He figured Randvi was dead along with everyone else, but that didn’t make her death any less painful.

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth? What reason do you have to help us? Who are you, anyway? You still haven’t told me your name.”

“My name is Gjuki,” the man replied. “Your brother freed me from slavery when he launched an assault on my master’s clan. This is the least I can do for him after everything he’s done for me.”

Sigurd loosened his hold on Gjuki’s collar, shocked by what he just heard.

Could it be true? Could Eivor really still be alive? Had Algar been lying to him this entire time?

It would explain why the housecarl had yet to give him a straight answer. Up until this point, the Saxon hadn’t been able to provide any details pertaining to Eivor’s death, and if Gjuki spoke the truth, it would answer many of the questions Sigurd had floating around in his head.

Algar knew Eivor was alive. He knew he failed to carry out Aegenwulf’s orders, and that was why he was so intent on keeping Sigurd under his boot. Just like anyone else who was familiar with the two brothers, Algar was aware of the feats they could achieve if they put their heads together, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Still, in spite of the evidence Gjuki presented, Sigurd couldn’t deny that part of him remained in disbelief. He had spent so long wondering about the circumstances of Eivor’s death, that he never stopped to question whether or not it actually happened.

He truly believed he had been left all alone in this world, and -- given enough time -- he would’ve even accepted it. But now that he knew the truth of the situation, Sigurd felt a newfound strength igniting inside him.

“...My brother’s alive...” he whispered under his breath. “Eivor is... alive. There is hope...”

Gjuki nodded. “Yes, but hope alone will not be enough to save you. If you truly wish to put an end to this ordeal, you must kill those responsible for the attack in the first place. Problem is, Eivor and I still don’t know who that is. That’s why he sent me to investigate.”

Sigurd’s face lit up with an idea. “I might have a lead. There is a Saxon here. His name is Algar. He is no more than a lapdog for the ealdorman, but I get the feeling he knows more about the attack on Ravensthorpe than he’s letting on. He knows something that Aegenwulf doesn’t.”

“Then it would be wise for you to remain here. It’s clear that you have the trust of the Saxons in Forangal -- to a certain extent, at least -- and you can use that to your advantage.”

The viking was hesitant. “I suppose you’re right, but not all the Saxons here are driven by deceit. Some of them have honor. I do not wish to betray their trust. They saved my life, after all.”

The bard didn’t share Sigurd’s confidence. “Yes, but for whose benefit? Do not let their false sense of camaraderie fool you, Sigurd. You have been here naught for a fortnight, and they have already taken the liberty of putting a leash on you. You are nothing more than a tool to them. Trust me. I would know.”

Gjuki turned on his heel and began heading towards the main gate, anxious to reunite with the rest of his men.

“I will leave you for now, Sigurd. Our time is running out, and I do not wish to raise anymore suspicion. I will send one of my men back to Elmenham and inform Eivor of what we have found here. In the meantime, I shall remain in Wedenscire and continue with my investigation. If you ever need to contact me, head to the abandoned pier just south of Forangal. There is a brazier there that stands right next to the water. Light it, and I will come.”

Sigurd gave him a nod. “I will, Gjuki. Thank you. For everything you’re doing.”

“Do not thank me yet, Lone Wolf. If our plan is going to succeed, we will both need to stay alive. So play along with these Saxons’ games for now. Let them think they’re in control. Then, when the time is right... we will bring unto them the wrath of Thor himself.” The bard chuckled lowly. “They won’t even see it coming. Oh, what a sight that will be...”

Gjuki mounted his horse, waving goodbye to the bodyguard.

“Until then, stay safe, Sigurd. Your brother is on the warpath to avenge your clan, and I shudder to think of what he’ll do if he loses you too. Do not disappoint him.”

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #gjuki haldorsson #male oc #female oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

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horizonboundtrainer · 4 years ago

Note

May got a box of goodies! Inside was a variety of sweets, most being Valentine's Day themed, a few toys probably for Pokemon, and a Love Ball with a note on it!

'Happy Palentine's Day, May! Hope you enjoy the food, and the Pokemon. He kept following me and causing really petty minor inconveniences, so I figured you and Sig's would like him.

- Summer'

May has received a shiny Galarian Zigzagoon!

@hero7of4oblivia

"So they've found you another annoying little bastard to use as a distraction, eh, Sigurd? Bet you're cooking making nee schemes."

May raises an eyebrow at her Linoone. Sig stares back, rearing up on his haunches, and crossing his forelimbs as if to say: "I don't know what you're talking about."

May offers a snort and a roll of her eyes in return.

"Heh—Well, I ain't making any accusations... yet. Whatever the hell you two get up to isn't my buisness unless you make it so. Just... swear that you'll keep their nose down for at least a month, you fucking menace to society."

Sig sniff with mock indignantly. He attempts to raise his paws in his best approximation of a shrug, causing him to tip over.

May watches him roll into the tall grass with a snicker.

"Is it really that hard, Sig? I named you after a intelligent hero y'know—how the hell are you two gonna slay a dragon if you can't even spare a month for bringing the new meat up to speed?"

An indignant yip rises up from the grass.

"What, you wouldn't swear it even do it for a Pokepuff? What if I added in a pack of these?"

May picks out a bag of Pokemon safe chocolates from the box. She tear open corner of the packaging to allow the smell to leak out and waits.

And right on cue, Sig shoots out of his hiding spot, immediately making a beeline for the treats.

#ic #hero7of4oblivia #delivery pelipper | answered #wow these are really late

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heathenarmyimagines · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: Find Us

Summary: Ivar and (Y/N) go to the museum.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

After you had told Ivar about your dreams and his involvement in them Ivar was almost scarily eager to help you figure out what they meant and how to help.

He would ask you for details that you were still unsure about giving and he was also looking into all kinda shit online, Reading every single sleep study article he found.

Ivar had also taken to just being at your house, whenever he thought he found anything useful he would call and before you could tell him he didn’t need to come over he was already in your driveway.

This was one of those times.

You sighed as you put down your phone and stood up from your desk to go down stairs to let him in.

‘It’s Saturday you know, you don’t have to waste your weekend on me.’ you said as you opened the door.

‘Hush you, I think I found something.’ he said as he came in, heading straight for your room

With a sigh you followed behind him, leaving the door open to follow your mom’s rules.

‘What do you got?’ you asked.

‘First you tell me.’ he said as he pulled his laptop out of his backpack.

You though back to the dream you had last night.

This time there wasn’t anyone in your dream, or even a voice. You were just alone in a strange place. It looked like a Medieval theme park and quite honestly smelled kinda rank. It looked like you were in some kind of farmers market, a lot of stands lined up side by side like the stands at a carnival.

You waited for a moment for someone to show up or for a voice to come from nowhere and when none came you just looked around the abandoned stands until your alarm woke you up.

‘Nothing, no one was there this time, it looked like and abandoned market or something.’ you answered.

‘So not one of the seizure dreams?’

‘I think it was just this time nothing happened I just looked around.’

‘Well I found something by some guy with a shit name that he needed a degree to spell. Apparently he thinks psychics are super legit.’

‘Psychics?’ you scoffed.

‘Hear me out, listen to this; some people are born with a connection or fascination to another person. The most common form of this connection seems to be romantic and is often referred to as fated encounters or love at first sight.’ Ivar started.

‘You’re starting to sound like Sigurd.’ you sighed.

‘Shut up and keep listening, I’m not done. There also seems to be cases where someone fixates on a person who has already lived and died. This is a very rare happening in which a person may have dreams of someone else’s past life or even dreams of communicating with that person.’ Ivar finished.

Now that sounded like something, very vague and not at all specific but it did sound kind of probable.

‘That seems to make sense, except for one dream I had a while back.’ you said.

‘What happened in that dream?’

‘There was this...guy, he was really tall and had these really black lips and no eyes-’

‘No eyes?’ Ivar asked with an arched brow.

‘Yeah, not like missing eyeballs but more like his skin had grown over them or maybe he was just born without any. That guy talked directly to me and he was not at all who I “fixated on” and in any case the guy in my dreams is you.’

‘Or an ancestor that I look just like.’ Ivar said.

Now that got your attention, but something about it wasn’t right...the wording was wrong.

“Tell them who they are.” the words rang clear in your head.

‘No, not an ancestor... a past life?’ you mumbled.

‘Past life?’ Ivar asked.

‘Oh my God! A past life!!’ you yelled as you jumped up from your seat and began pacing, talking a mile a minute.

‘That’s it! That’s what the scary guy was trying to tell me! It’s not you, not this you but past you, if I find out who old you is then the dreams have to stop! Holy shit, come on!’ you said grabbing Ivar’s arm and trying to pull him off the bed.

Only Ivar wasn’t budging, he was still trying to process all the shit you had just said.

‘Wait a minute.’ he said, yanking his arm back making you fall back onto the mattress.

‘What?’ you whined impatiently.

‘Where are we going and do you mind explaining all that gibberish just now.’

You sighed and used the breath to calm yourself down a little bit so that you could explain your epiphany.

‘Look in my dreams the first time I saw you-the other you, you were an old man; you yelled at me and threw an ax at me to keep me away.’

Your mind goes back to that dream and you remember the ax that Dream!Ivar had thrown at you.

‘You threw an ax at me.’ you repeated as a thought crossed your mind.

‘I threw an ax at you?’ Ivar asked in shock.

‘Yes, and even better I have seen that ax before.’ you smiled as you stood up and started pulling out some clothes.

Just as you were about to start getting changed you remembered Ivar was very much so still in the room and looking at you.

‘Um Ivar could you like wait in the living room? I’ll be right out.’ you said.

‘What?’

‘Get out I need to change.’ you clarified.

Though you could tell Ivar was still completely confused he gathered his things and left the room mumbling about getting you evaluated.

You put on some jeans and a sweatshirt then you put you your shoes before you checked your purse and made sure you had what you needed.

Once you had everything you headed downstairs and saw Ivar sitting on the couch doing whatever on his phone.

‘Hey come on.’ you said.

With a sigh Ivar stood up and grabbed his bag and the two of you had got into the car.

‘Want to tell me where the hell I’m going?’

‘The museum, we were supposed to go the first time we hung out but I had to go home. My mom says that museum gets a lot of the things she and her team recovers.’

Ivar doesn’t say anything on the ride but you were talking up a storm, mostly about all the sleep you were about to get now.

‘Seriously if I wake up from a coma in thirty years still give me an extra five minutes, don’t let my Mom pour ice on me. I need every minute in those thirty years.’ you rambled.

By the time you had actually reached the museum you were almost bouncing with excitement and Ivar was looking concerned.

‘Are you sure you’re right about this (Y/N)? If this turns out to be a false lead-’

‘It’s not, I can feel it in my bones. Every fiber of my being is telling me that the answers we need are in that building and even if it is wrong its the first and only lead I got.’ you said as you took off your seat belt.

You and Ivar got up and headed for the entrance, the ticket collector asked for your tickets and you handed over the all access card your mother had given you and you were happy that it also came with a plus one.

She let you both in and the two of you entered.

Immediately as you entered the museum you were hit by a strong feeling, almost like wind but not quite. Maybe a better way of explaining it would be like getting the wind knocked out of you.

‘Woah.’ you breathed placing a hand on your chest.

‘Are you OK?’ Ivar asked in concern.

‘Yeah...just got a little overwhelmed you know? Must mean we are onto something. Come on.’ you assured as you walked further into the museum.

‘Do you want to join the tour?’ Ivar asked.

‘No, I can read the plaques myself.’ you said as you searched over the items for one thing in particular.

Finally you saw it.

‘There!’ you pointed dragging Ivar along to stand in front of a long display table.

On that table there was several items with little informational plaques underneath each item, but the one you were focused on was the ax head.

‘This is it, the ax you threw at me. This is one of the things that my mom found when she came here. They found so much that they wanted her to stay and moved the whole family out here.’ you explained as you looked at the ax.

Ivar looked at the ax then looked down at the plaque.

‘Late Viking age ax found buried with an unknown male, the handle was disintegrated but the ax head was well preserved.’ he read.

‘That was your ax...so that was probably your grave.’ you said.

‘Just gonna say hearing you casually say “my grave” is not my idea of a fun day out, so could you not.’ Ivar asked.

‘Right, sorry but this was the ax that was thrown at me and it belongs to whoever threw it.’

Ivar moved over to another item.

‘Viking chess pieces found in burial site, Vikings were often buried with their weapons, their favorite horse and their favorite game pieces.’

You decided to follow his lead and look at the other things on the table. There was a war helmet that you were reading about while Ivar was looking at what you thought was a belt buckle.

‘Listen to this. Apparent belt buckle that was found strapped around the legs of buried male suggesting the man may have had a disability that prevented him from walking.’ Ivar read.

‘Disabled?’ you repeated looking at it the buckle trying to remember if you had seen it before, but you drew a blank. You never looked at his legs but now that you thought about it you had never seen him standing.

‘Always sitting, whenever I’ve seen you in my dreams you were sitting, maybe you were disabled.’ you said.

Not that you noticed but Ivar tensed a bit at that and moved onto another nearby display table.

‘Come and look at this one.’ he said pointing to the plaque on the table.

‘The contents on this table were found buried with a woman, appears to be a blended culture burial combining customs of Saxon and Viking religion.’ you read.

‘Look here more game pieces...and a cross.’ Ivar said pointing to the cross necklace.

You look down at the pendant and were surprised to feel such a strong sense of familiarity, you found yourself rubbing your neck as if you were missing the weight of a necklace.

‘That is mine.’ you whispered.

‘What?’ Ivar asked.

‘Huh?’ you said looking over at him.

‘You said that was your cross.’ he clarified.

‘Yeah, I mean it feels like it is mine, but it can’t possibly be.’

‘Well if that was my ax why can’t this be your cross?’ Ivar questioned.

At that you had to take a minute to consider, you had to admit it made sense. It would explain why you were the one connecting with Ivar and why you started having the dream when you arrived.

If you lived here in a past life coming back would probably trigger something, and if you had a connection with Ivar in that past life then maybe some...higher power wanted the two of you to reconnect.

‘If this is mine and that ax is yours then maybe we knew each other back then.’ you suggest.

‘Maybe it was more than just knowing each other.’ Ivar said as he bent down to get a better look at something in the glass case.

You bend down beside him to look as well.

A wedding ring with some Old Norse Runes carved into it.

‘No way.’ you gasped.

‘Married.’ Ivar said.

‘No way, I mean there is no way. You threw an ax at me, that doesn’t sound like a proper greeting between husband and wife.’ you argued.

‘Well not every marriage is loving and who knows how far you went back, you could have went back before we-I mean they were married.’ he said.

‘Even if that were the case, which I’m still not too sure about, then that must mean one of us killed the other. Because the one time that I could actually speak with you it wasn’t very friendly.’

You and Ivar looked over the items a little more trying to learn as much as you could. You had read each of the plaques and Ivar was writing down the dates that the items were expected to be from.

‘Do you get anymore weird psychic vibes looking at any of this?’ he asked as he put his notebook away.

‘Well the cross felt the most...mine, you know. Like when you clean the attic and find a toy you used to have as a baby. You have no memory of it, but you’ve seen pictures of yourself with it.’ you tried to explain.

‘So no feeling with the ring?’

‘I don’t think so.’ you sighed in disappointment.

‘Wait, what if you try touching me while you look at it, that could help.’ Ivar suggested.

‘Maybe, give me your hand...wait, stand behind me, just in case seize up, I don’t want to cause a scene.’ you said.

Ivar moved to stand behind you while you looked around to make sure no one was looking at you, thankfully it wasn’t busy today.

You grabbed his hand and bam!

That feeling like ice cold water had just been poured all over you took over your body and when you opened your eyes you were in yet another strange place.

You looked down at yourself and found that you were no longer you in your own clothes. Instead you were in some weird long, thin white long sleeve dress, and it was itchy as hell.

‘What?’ you said in confusion as you scratched at your arms.

You looked around and found you were on a beach and there was a strange woman standing in front of you and she was much stranger clothes than you.

Her dress was brown and looked like it was made out of a long potato sack or something, she had a weird winged metal helmet and she was holding a golden bowl.

Cautiously you looked inside and saw that there was a a very red liquid inside and you really hoped you were wrong about what you thought it was.

‘Get on with it.’

You looked to your left and found Ivar...Dream!Ivar sitting on a tree stump beside you. Still just as old as he had been before but now he was looking even worse, angrier.

‘Yes, hurry this along.’ came another voice.

Behind you there was a crowd of people you hadn’t even noticed before, you recognized the men from your dream, Ubbe, Hvitserk and this time even Bjorn was there looking practically ancient and WAY less hot.

None of them particularly happy to be here, what was happening?

‘Are you sure you want to do this? In the eyes of the Great Many Gods, bound forever...and beyond?’ the woman asked, her voice much deeper than you had expected.

‘I swear it.’ Ivar said angrily.

‘Do you Wilda, swear you want to marry this man, in the eyes of the Great Many Gods, binding yourself to him in this life and in all the lives that come after?’

‘Uh...I-’

‘Hurry up already!’ he snapped.

‘I swear it.’ you squeaked in fear.

The woman reached into her long sleeve and pulled out a a bunch of leaves and twigs, you guessed that’s where she pulled the rings from too. She dropped the herbs into the bowl and mixed it with her fingers, mumbling something as she did so.

What the hell is going on? Clearly it was a wedding and it obviously wasn’t a joyous event.

‘Drink from the bowl, may the blood bind you and herbs guide you to find each other again.’

Dream!Ivar took the bowl and drank from it and you winced at the thought of how gross that must taste.

Then he handed the bowl to you.

‘Drink!’

The cold feeling rushed over your body the second you touched the cold metal bowl.

After a few blinks you looked around and found yourself back in the museum.

‘Woah there!’ Ivar whispered as he held onto you to keep you from falling.

‘T-thanks.’ you sighed, practically out of breath.

‘I take it you saw something.’

‘Yeah. It was-’

Before you could explain what you had just seen your phone rang, your mom and Ivar were the only people who called you and Ivar was here so you knew who it was when you answered.

‘Yes Mama.’ you said.

‘Where are your siblings?’ she asked .

‘Uh..they all went to their friends’ houses, I’m out with Ivar, what’s up?’ you asked.

Ivar looked at you in worry, wanting to see

‘Go get your siblings, we are going out for dinner tonight I have big BIG news!’ your mom said excitedly.

‘What is going on?’ you questioned, putting the phone on speaker.

‘I was going to wait until we were having dinner but I just can’t, act surprised when I tell y’all at dinner. (Y/N) I think I just made the biggest discovery of my entire career!’

‘Oh! Well that’s great, awesome! What did you find this time?’

‘You remember that grave I found, the one that made them ship us all out here?’

No way.

‘The one where you found an a man and woman buried side by side, with a lot of well preserved items?’ you asked, looking at Ivar.

Ivar looked over at the table you were just looking at and you nodded, this was all the stuff your mom found and she was talking to you about this stuff every other day while you helped her cooked dinner.

‘Yeah, that one well today they were giving the remains CAT scans and while that was happening I was with the restoration team. Ugh this is taking too long! What I’m trying to say is I think I found the grave of the most famous Viking in recorded history!’ your mother yelled excitedly.

There was no doubt she was doing her weird little excited mom dance.

‘Really? Who?’

‘I’ll tell you at dinner, I’ll meet you kids at the Chinese place by the house, and remember to act surprised.’

‘Wait! Uh can Ivar come, since he’s gonna be providing the ride? And you are totally on speaker right now.’ you said.

‘Hey Ms.(Y/L/N), congratulations on the find, can’t wait to hear about it over dinner.’ he spoke.

‘Awe thank you Ivar! You are welcome to join us, honestly you are the first boyfriend (Y/N) has ever introduced me to and I am so proud of her judgement.’

‘Mama!’ you yelled as you felt your ears burn in embarrassment.

‘I’m just teasing, see y’all at the restaurant.’ your mom said before hanging up.

‘Well guess we are about to get a lot of answers, come on tell me about what you saw on the way.’ Ivar said.

You nodded before quickly and as stealthily as possible taking a few pictures of the display.

‘Let’s go.’ you said.

In the car he told you that you were out for about thirty seconds and you gave him the run down on what you saw.

‘So we were right about the marriage.’ Ivar said.

‘Yeah, and it was not a loving kind either, but something else about it was off. I mean I’m not an expert on Vikings Age weddings but I think they don’t usually involve blood drinking and binding each other in this life and all the lives that come after it.’

‘Maybe you should ask your mom, what else did you get for us to work with?’

‘I think I got my name...her name? Wilda.’

‘Wilda? Doesn’t sound very Norse to me...sounds very Anglo-Saxon.’ Ivar replied.

‘And you know that how?’ you asked.

‘My favorite class is history, did a research paper on ancient Norse culture last term.’ was the answer.

‘When we get there we won’t ask too many questions just let my mom talk and I’ll squeeze her for info later.’ you planned.

‘Squeeze her? You sound like an interrogator...I love it.’ he smiled.

The two of you went to pick up your siblings and immediately shut down any talk about your past life. Instead you were now dodging your siblings’ questions about why Mama wanted them to go out so suddenly.

At the restaurant you send in your your two mobile siblings to go inside and get find a table while you got the youngest one out of his car seat, which always takes a minute since he puts up a fight.

Ivar helped you and it was hit to your pride how quickly your brother stopped fighting and got out the truck for a stranger after he had fought you for like five minutes.

Once Ivar had him out he handed you your sibling to carry.

‘You’re a little shit show you know that?’ you glared at the boy in your arms.

Finally you three headed inside and you started looking around for your other siblings when the hostess came up.

‘Oh what a cute baby.’ she smiled.

‘He thinks so.’ you replied politely.

‘He looks just like you Miss, you two made a beautiful boy.’

‘We what? Oh no! No no no! We’re teenagers, this isn’t our kid, we aren’t even dating!’ you panic as your cheeks burn.

The woman looked horrified with her mistake and apologized before showing you where your siblings were waiting for you.

‘Took y’all long enough, I already ordered drinks.’ your sister said as you sat down with your brother in your lap and Ivar took the seat beside you.

You took a sip of your soda and kept your eyes on anything but Ivar, still horrified that someone not only thought you were dating him but that you’d had a three year old toddler with him.

Eventually your Mom showed up, wearing sunglasses and big fur coat you know she didn’t own yesterday.

‘Hello Darlings.’ she said with all the dramatics in the world and then some.

‘What is going on here, where did you get this thing?’ you laughed.

‘I bought it, with the money I got from the museum, the restoration team gave them a call about my find and they are so interested they want to buy the WHOLE HAUL! Since it was my find I get a small portion, but considering what I may have uncovered even the small portion isn’t anything to sneeze at.’ your mother smiles as she sat down.

‘What did you find?’ you asked.

‘Okay, now I cannot say for sure yet, some things need to officially done first. Translations and what not, the usual red tape put up by museums, but I think I’ve found the real body of...Ivar the Boneless.’

#ivar ragnarson #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #modern!vikings #vikings imagine #Find us Series

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ofhoneyandrosepetals · 5 years ago

Text

We Move Lightly - 10

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x reader

Description: Y/N moved back in with her parents, after 7 years of taking care of her grandparents in another town. She had no idea how her neighbors would be, or who would they be, or even that she would fall in love with one of them.

Warnings: swearings.

Word count: 3,285

A/N: you can keep up with the fic with the link to the masterlist in my bio! The music in question is Bloom by The Paper Kites. Enjoy the chapter x

It was no wonder that saturday you woke up by the Lothbroks’ screams. You remembered when you first moved in, how much you hated them. You didn’t hate them anymore, but it was sure as hell that you didn’t grow fond of them so much. Not so fast, boys, you thought. But it was a strong fact that somehow you were related to them as much as you wished to - all because of Ivar Lothbrok.

“Look where he put me into,” you said, not really measuring your words. By the time you said them to yourself they didn’t mean a big deal.

You grabbed your earphones on your nightstand and put on some music so you could fall asleep again - it was too early for you to wake up, but not for the Lothbroks, who had to prepare a massive birthday party.

Ivar told you to be there at 3 P.M. You thought it was too soon for a grown-up party to begin, but he reminded you that, grown up or not, it was more of a family gathering and they had kids. The real grown up thing would be a couple of days later.

Ivar and Ubbe had succeeded at making their brothers minds up by agreeing to celebrate their birthdays on different days, so that way all of them could go to both events. Of course that Ivar invited you to all of them, but you were still thinking about it. Clubs aren’t really your thing, and Sigurd’s taste in music didn’t quite match yours. You didn’t want to leave Ivar alone, but you weren’t excited to go to neither of them.

Plus - and thinking about this made your heart shrink a little - you and Ivar weren’t a couple. Of course that, clearly, you were more than friends, but not a couple, not exactly. You bit your lips and shut your eyes, trying to sleep again, but with these thoughts it was impossible. You liked Ivar - god, you liked him so much. It was obvious that he liked you too, but sometimes you felt too much involved in his family. Like a girlfriend would be.

But you weren’t his girlfriend. You were just a girl he was seeing.

In your mind it was crystal clear that you were the only one that he was seeing, but what if it wasn’t?

In your attempt to sleep you received a message. It was Amy.

I’m gonna be late for today, I’m so sorry. Shit went down here at home. Just go without me, I’ll be there later.

Wait, you think you gonna be that late?, you replied.

Well, sure as hell I’m gonna be there at 3 or even 4.

Is everything okay?

Yep, just my stupid brother. I’ll be there later, don’t worry hun. xx, and that ended the conversation.

Well, now you weren’t sleeping.

You showed up with your parents at the Lothbroks’ backyard precisely at 3 P.M.

“Folks, I’m impressed! You didn’t get any traffic, did ya?” Hvitserk greeted you. Your father handed him his present and then Sigurd’s. “Thanks, sir! Hey, Y/N.”

“Happy birthday, Hvitserk,” you hugged him.

Hvitserk told you that Ivar was in the kitchen, in case you wanted to see your boy - Hvitserk’s words. With your cheeks burning you excused yourself from your parents.

“Ivar?” You called when you couldn’t see him anywhere, then you heard what it looked like someone hitting their head in a shelf.

“Ouch!”

“Ivar?” You could see his silhouette inside the pantry. “Oh, are you okay?” You helped him getting out.

“I’m fine, it was just the scare,” he was rubbing his head. You got his hands and held them, gently pressing a kiss on his lips. “Hey, girl. It’s not my birthday, but I’m starting to feel that it is,” the look on his eyes and his smile reminds you to breathe. And, as quick as like that, his eyes shine and he starts talking really fast, all excited. “Damn Y/N, you should’ve seen what I did this morning! Remember when I told ya that Sigurd was a pain in my ass about moving to my room here, downstairs?” You nodded. You did remember this story. “Sometimes we exchange for a night when my legs are really hurting, so I came up with this plan last night.” Ivar guided you to the kitchen island, where you could sit in one of the barstools. “I whined like crazy to do this exchange last night, so Sigurd would sleep in my room. With this grumpy face he accepted,” Ivar imitated Sigurd’s face, making you laugh. “I know, it’s ridiculous, right? So, two hours before Sigurd or Hvitserk would wake up, I got a rope and tied their doorknobs, so no one could open the door.”

“You did what?” You asked laughing, Ivar with you.

“They got so fucking mad! They drive me crazy all year, I had to do this on their birthday party day,” Ivar was smiling like a little boy - more like a brat, you might say.

“Why do I have the feeling that you are the black sheep in this family?” You touch his hand.

“I’m the scourge of this family, honey,” he said. “Although I couldn’t say which one of us was the most terrible.”

“Was?” You teased him.

“We’re all pretty shit now,” he raised his shoulders. “But not Ubbe. He’s the oldest, so he kinda grew up fast. But not Hvitserk, he always had it in him.”

“Had what, exactly?”

“The childness,” you laugh at the sincerity in his tone.

“And what about you? Ubbe’s seen to be the mature one, the only one here with the brains; Hvitserk’s the child; Sigurd’s is the one grumpy brat; what about you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m the prince here,” he opened his arms to the kitchen.

“Oh yeah, the Prince of the Great Lothbrok Kitchen,” you mocked him.

“Hey, don’t be so mean,” he pointed a finger at you and leaned in for a kiss. “Where’s Amy? I thought she and Ubbe were hitting good.”

“She didn’t give him her phone number.”

“What? You know, your friend is one of a kind.”

“What can I say? Sometimes I don’t understand her. Actually she said she only wanted Ubbe to be a ‘Kattegat thing’, if you understand it.”

“It’s not common, but I see her point. Kinda weird, though.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be here. She’s gonna be super late.”

“I’m glad you arrived super in time,” Ivar held you in his arms and kissed you one more time.

It wasn’t a surprise that Ivar was very attentive with you, but not like this, every five minutes. You weren’t complaining, of course, you were just pointing out the new things.

You liked it.

“I’m picking Amy up!” You announced to your parents, showing them the car keys.

“Hey, hey, hey…!” Ivar called for you. “Let me do it, it was my idea after all to invite her.”

“It would be weird for you to go…”

“Of course you would be going with me, silly,” he opened a smile. You nodded, agreeing.

And once again you were in a car with Ivar. His car was different - it had all the technology he needed, since his legs were used to have bad days.

“I’m not getting this relationship of theirs,” Ivar tried to pull some conversation.

“There’s no relationship, that’s the point,” you looked over the window, seeing the traffic. “That’s what she’s been trying to tell me, at least,” you completed after some time. “She thinks that there is some excitement to see a guy every once in a while in this weird little town, a guy that she never talks to over the phone.”

“Like the old days?” He asked, quickly turning his head to you.

“I think so. Like the old days.”

The trip to the train station was quiet, but not an awkward silence - you were just enjoying the view as someone else drove the car, and Ivar knew it. He grabbed your hand and you smiled at him, enjoying the gesture. He definitely was coming more around.

“Amy texted, she said we don’t need to get out, she has only a backpack.”

“I think she finally learned how to pack for a weekend,” you laughed. “I remember the first time she came - I saw you guys struggling with all her luggage.”

“She’s… unique,” you said as you saw Amy coming, all smiles and waving at you.

“Hey-a little doves!” That was the first thing she said. She kept rambling all the way back about what happened that made her late, until she said something that made your heart skip and freeze. “Look at you… picking me up, sitting there in the front, just like a couple. You guys are adorable, make me sick.”

There it was. The couple thing. You closed your eyes and smiled as Ivar held your hand once again. You got the courage to look to his face - he was attentive to the streets ahead him, but he had a smile on his lips. A sweet one. You slightly squeezed his hand and he responded with a bigger smile.

“Yuck,” Amy said, joking.

When you arrived with Amy at the Lothbroks she hugged everyone like she already knew them.

“Oh, Y/N, I would like to introduce you to the rest of the family,” Hvitserk said.

“Okay…” you agreed, thinking it was weird this coming from Hvitserk.

“This is Bjorn, our oldest brother. He’s from the first marriage,” you shaked hands with a tall, huge blonde guy. He was serious, but his blue eyes were warm. “This is Torvi, his wife,” she hugged you. “And his kids are running around,” he opened his arm, pointing to the huge backyard.

“Nice to meet you,” you said shyly.

“So you’re Ivar’s girl,” Bjorn said. You choked. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it,” Torvi elbowed Bjorn and he gave her a funny look. “What?” Hvitserk pulled you with him - he was a little drunk, yes.

“And this is our only sister, Gyda. Also from the first marriage. Gyda’s actually nice.”

“Hey! Bjorn is nice too, you loved him when you were a little boy!”

“Bjorn. Serious,” Hvitserk said. “And this is Aud, Gyda’s friend. They share an apartment together.”

“Nice thing to add, Hvit,” Aud said, hugging you like Gyda did.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Gyda said.

“Let me borrow her now, asshole,” Ivar said to Hvitserk, coming out of nowhere.

“All yours, brother. Always have been,” Hvitserk left drinking from his glass.

“Did he bother you?” Ivar asked you.

“No no, he just… introduced me to your other siblings,” you and the girls smiled.

“Typical Hvitserk,” Aud said.

“Aud, you’re here. That’s nice. Have a great time you two,” Ivar said politely to the girls. “Annoying backstory with Sigurd - I didn’t think she would come. Anyways, Floki is here and I would like you to meet him.”

“Oh… wow! Okay. A lot of meetings today, I guess.”

“Is that a problem?” Ivar’s eyes went from amused to worried. “Are we pushing too hard? I’m sorry, it must be weird for you to meet all these new people…”

“Ivar, it’s okay. Really. I was just… not expecting it. Let’s go meet Floki,” you gave him a reassuring smile and cupped his hand. He guided to the very end of the backyard, where Ragnar was with his friends.

“Y/N!” Ragnar greeted loudly, opening his arms as he saw you coming. “How ya doing? Enjoying your summer?” He hugged strongly, making you go out of breath.

“Sure am, Mr. Lothbrok.”

“Please, it’s Ragnar.”

“Y/N, this is Floki, my boss and my father’s best friend.”

“So this is the girl that gave me a hard time?” You blushed at Floki’s words. “Don’t worry kiddo, I know how to keep this Lothbrok on the line,” he pointed to Ivar. “Since this one is unstoppable,” he pointed his head to Ragnar, who laughed.

“Oh, stop it,” you could see the light shine on Ragnar’s eyes and teeth, how his smile looked even more beautiful in the dark. “I’m a perfectly good old man.”

“Old is for sure,” Ivar said, laughing and making all the other men laugh.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” Ragnar slapped the back of Ivar’s head, making the boy laugh.

“What did you boss mean back there? About me,” you asked Ivar when you were in a safe distance.

“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it.”

“Did I… I didn’t want to cause any trouble…”

“You didn’t, sweetheart. Hi, I’m Helga. Floki’s wife.”

“Oh, hi,” you smiled at her and, of course, she hugged you.

“Can I talk with her?” She asked looking at Ivar. He nodded and left. Helga hooked her arm to yours and you started walking. “So you’re Y/N.”

“How come does everyone know me?”

“Ivar’s quite a lonely boy. When his brothers started to spread the word that he met a girl, well… You would imagine what this means,” the thought of being the reason of gossiping drove you nuts. “But that’s not a thing to be worried about. Only family knew.”

“Floki…”

“It doesn’t need blood to be family.”

“Oh god…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Helga laughed at your reaction. “I assure you that only the siblings and me and Floki knew about you. I heard what you asked Ivar. He mentioned you to us - he was so radiant. Floki was afraid that this new thing would slow Ivar down, but the boy knows how to keep things straight.”

“I didn’t see him for days. Weeks, even. Only quick things, but we texted a lot.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t see him. The company had a lot of work and Ivar is the only intern there.”

“That’s fine, I understand. I think it’s great that he’s that compromised,” you looked down at your feet, smiling.

“Ivar is a good boy, and I’m sure you’re a good girl. We’re very close, you see,” you nodded.

“He told me a lot about you two,”

“He’s that kind of person. He wouldn’t shut up about you, it drove Floki crazy,” you two laughed. “I’m so glad he found a girl like you. You’re very lucky to have meet him,” Helga squeezed your hands before going.

I think I am, you thought. You looked for Ivar above all those heads - you found him, speaking to some guys. You recognized Sigurd with him. That’s one you rarely see - Sigurd -, so the sight of him felt a bit strange. They were all laughing. They fought a lot, that was true, but they still loved each other. Just imagine, a house with four brothers. All men - the mess that probably was. You smiled at that view, looking all around.

Ubbe with Amy, laughing. Ivar and Sigurd and their friends. Hvitserk messing around. Bjorn and Torvi, along with a blonde, mature woman. Aslaug and Helga. Ragnar and Floki. Gyda and Aud. You parents were mixed in the crowd, but everyone was there.

You saw Hvitserk getting up on a table - he was trying to get everyone’s attention.

“This is a tradition of every damn gathering here,” everyone laughed. “A birthday is not an excuse. A party is not an excuse. It’s all about… all of us together,” Hvitserk tried to put his drunk words together. “I would like that bastard Sigurd to come up here since it’s his birthday too,” everyone screamed, calling for Sigurd. He showed up at Hvitserk’s side, and you felt someone touching your shoulder. Ivar. You smiled at each other.

“I’m happy that everyone could show up today. Or tonight,” Sigurd looked at the sky. “It’s night already, isn’t it? I’m terrible at these things, even though I jump on a stage and I’m great there,” people laughed. You remembered that day at Bragr’s, with Ivar. “I just wanna thank to all the presences here. Our friends, our family. Our neighbors and their daughter, because after Ivar met her he’s being less of a pain in my ass.”

You covered my face, wanting to dig yourself in the ground.

“Asshole!” Ivar screamed. Everyone laughed.

“But what the heck, I love my little brother. That’s the thing about being in a big family - you get to mess around and you still love everyone.”

“Wow. Nice words coming from Sigurd. I think it’s the whiskey,” Hvitserk said. Everyone laughed. “Here’s,” he said even louder, raising his glass. “For the handsome and the musician,” everyone shouted and raised their glasses. You didn’t have one, but Ivar raised his. “Here’s for everyone here tonight. May we all be together next year,” more shouts and everyone drank from their glasses. Ivar gave you his so you could take a sip.

“Now, if there’s anyone interested, I’m going to play some songs with my band, so just keep doing what you do best,” Sigurd announced.

As everyone shouted you turned over to Ivar. “I didn’t know Sigurd was playing.”

“Oh, he is. Only because it’s his birthday. Here, I made a little request,” Ivar put his glass on a table and pulled you over to him, your bodies really close to each other.

“I’ll start with a song that was a secret request. Don’t look too much around, otherwise it won’t be a secret anymore,” Sigurd said over the mic.

“Ivar…” you said, sounding surprised.

“Just c��mere,” he held you close.

Sigurd started with his guitar. He was solo.

Ivar started to guide you by the rhythm.

“In the morning when I wake,” Sigurd’s voice sang. His voice was very smooth, different from that night at the café. “And the sun is coming through…”

“How is everyone?” You buried your head on Ivar’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Just enjoy it,” you bit your lips and stared at Ivar.

“Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down?” Sigurd continued. It was the kind of a song that made you feel good, calm.

“Oh, you fill my head with pieces… Of a song I can’t out,” Ivar was mimicking the words. He was slowly guiding you, gently making you spin. You felt the grass under your feet. When you got closer to him again, he rubbed the tip of his nose on yours, closing his eyes. It looked a lot like eskimo kissing, but for a moment he rested his forehead on yours.

“Can I take you to a moment - where the fields are painted gold? And the trees are filled with memories - of the feelings never told,” as Sigurd sang the words you remembered of the lake Ivar took you. You held your breath and opened your eyes. Ivar was there, looking at you. He was discreetly nodding his head yes, because he knew what you were thinking.

Now Ivar followed Sigurd, but in a tone that only you could hear. “Can I be close to you?” You bit your lips, your mind working at full speed. You weren’t sure if it was that but, even if it wasn’t, it was something.

Maybe that was his way to confess. Or maybe that was his way to ask it.

But it didn’t matter, because by the time Ivar said the last “can I be close to you?” he whispered, now by himself, as Sigurd finished in the guitar: “Can I?”

You whispered back: “Yes. Yes, you can,” so Ivar hold you tight against his body and kissed you, passionately.

You had no idea what that was about, but it was something. And, for you, it was all that mattered.

Taglist: @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @slut4hazeleyes @chinduda @hallowed-heathen @cherryblossombaby69 @paintballkid711 @bisexual-dane @youbloodymadgenius @fuckthatfeeling

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kattegat-kittycat · 5 years ago

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Fates Entwined, part III: Who Are You When Nobody Is Watching

Part III of Fates Entwined.

Part I

Part II

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

AN: So, I had to finish another writing assignment, so I wasn’t able to post this earlier. I am sorry that my posting rhythm is all messed up, I thought I’d be able to post once a week or so, but turns out, life gets in the way of these plans more often than not. Thanks for your patience, though :)

Oh, and @youbloodymadgenius you are the first person to ask me to tag you. Thank you so much for bearing with me (and sorry for taking so long) <3

The highest highs and the lowest lows I'll face the life in it's cruel way We shall never give in the pain I'm drowning into your eyes I'm drowning into you

Entwine - Lost Within

As official as the ceremony had been, the banquet afterwards was lively, bordering on rowdy, happy, but all in all friendly. I had to sit at Ivar’s side for most of the festivities, for the well-wishes and the shaking hands, even though all I wanted was to get Aslaug and talk to her, just the two of us. Something had happened and she probably knew what it was. I had never been a seer like her, I did not know how to read my vision or what to make of it, only that it scared me a lot. I had, however, always trusted my gut instinct and that told me that we had set something in motion that was bigger than we were. Once again, my eyes searched the crowd for the tall and slender figure of hers, but when I met her eyes, I could see almost the same uncertainty on her face, she had probably seen on mine. I could not wait any longer; I rested my hand on Ivar’s arm and waited for him to turn his attention to me. His head turned almost instantly as if my hand had burned his skin, but when he saw me, he relaxed a little.

“What is it, my princess?” he asked, smiling sardonically.

“I’ll be over and talk to your mother for a moment, if that is alright?” I tried to make it sound like a question, to keep up appearances in public. Our eyes met and he could see that I had not asked his permission. He tilted his head and his smile became overboarding. “Of course you may go and talk to my mother, I am sure she will tell you everything you need to know for our wedding night.”

I cocked an eyebrow, but he just grinned, so I left it at that and hurried over to my new mother-in-law. I grabbed her by the arm and quickly got her to move with me into a corner where only few could see us, but no one would hear us.

“Y/N, do you like the festivities?” she asked in a high-pitched voice that betrayed her nerves.

I gave a nod. Still had to be polite, right? “Yes, the food is delicious and it is nice to see the men unwind. There will be battles to be fought soon enough. I hear Björn plans on going to the Mediterranean.”

“Yes, yes he is and Hvitserk will go with him. Ubbe and Sigurd, too.”

“So, Ivar will stay here in Kattegat?”

She gave a curt nod.

I took another look around, to make sure no one was near us. “Queen Aslaug, I know you are a talented seer, so please tell me, why do I have the feeling that this marriage set something in motion? Something deep and dark and blood thirsty?”

Suddenly, she looked scared. “So you feel it, too?”

I gave a nod. “I had a vision of some sorts during the ceremony. What was that all about?”

A small sob escaped her and she pulled me closer by the sleeve of my dress.

“I had a vision as well. A vision of your possible futures. But also a vision of a burning Kattegat. A burning world, in which war raged in Kattegat and Ivar had killed his brother and he was fighting his other brothers. But I also saw you. The calm in the center of the storm. He will bring on hell on earth for our people if we cannot get him off that path and I don’t know how. But I know you can.”

I was angry inside, I wanted to scream, but to what avail? So I only swallowed against the scream building up in my throat and it became a fierce whisper:

“So you thought you could get me married to him and that would solve the end of the world as we know it?”

“Yes. And I am sorry. Your mother was a wise woman, and a strong fighter. And I know she passed these traits on to you. If anyone can safe him, it is you. Please”, she took my hands in hers, “Please take care of my little Ivar. Make sure, he can find his greatness, but lose his cruelty.”

I sighed. Only now did I realise, I had tears in my eyes. “It might have been helpful, had you told me before we got married.”

“You would not have consented to this marriage had I told you. And while I am deeply sorry that you will have to deal with this, I do not regret getting you into this. This is your place in this world. This is your fate.”

I grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully. “That was not yours to decide!”

She looked at me and sighed. “I know. But I had to safe my son. And that meant binding your life to his, so I did. You felt it yourself, this bond is blessed and protected by the Gods themselves. There is no going back.”

I bit my lip to let the pain distract me from my anger. Then I bowed my head before her. She was the seer and the queen after all. I might not have agreed to this had I known the truth of her intentions, but the spider had woven her net well. There was no escaping it now, I knew that she was right.

I returned to Ivar’s side and he looked at me, almost bored. I was happy enough turning to his brothers to talk. I thought it might come in handy to gather as much intel on my husband as possible. But as it turned out, they weren’t able to tell me much about Ragnar’s youngest son. He seemed to be a riddle wrapped in a mystery. Ambitious to the core and always staying one step ahead of everybody by not revealing too much about himself or his intentions. He was a brilliant strategist, even in civil life, but he trusted no one.

Suddenly, he decided it was time for us to go to bed and he unceremoniously made me get up.

“I am almost sorry that I won’t be able to carry you over the threshold, my dear, sweet princess.” He chuckled, as he crawled across the ground beside me. Gone were the men who had carried him. Way too drunk for the task as well. It was just the two of us, out in the village ways.

I looked down into his face as he looked up and grinned. “Should I carry you instead?” I suggested.

He stopped promptly and his eyes were suddenly ablaze. “Don’t you dare!” He spat. Then went on a little lighter: “Anyway, you are not strong enough to carry me.”

I cocked my head in utter disbelief. “You should not have said that, Boneless!” I growled, because this had been a challenge if there ever was one. I stooped to the ground and took hold of one arm and one leg, but Ivar fought me off. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me down into the dirt with him, then he tried to wrestle me beneath him. I fought with all my might, but Ivar had more experience on his side down here. Suddenly, we heard someone laugh. The two of us turned around and saw Björn, holding his belly and laughing hard.

“You…you two should see yourselves! I do not question Aslaug’s decision for a single moment. You two are made for each other!”

I used Ivar’s surprise to my benefit, jumped to my feet and again grabbed him by his arm and his ankle to heave him onto my shoulders. He was heavier than I had anticipated, but I was stronger than he thought.

“Let me down, wife!” he spat violently, but didn’t struggle too much. I turned to Björn and bid him farewell and when Ivar had completely settled down, I started to make my way to the family home and his room, followed by the chuckling of my husband’s brother.

“Well, Floki’s piggy back rides are far more comfortable, but this is still nicer than crawling through the dirt.” He chuckled.

“And you can tell them that I carry you on my hands and share your burden.”

I heard the grin in his voice when he said: “You are indecent, don’t know your place and you are inobedient. I like that about you. You have a certain spark to you.”

I didn’t really respond, because we had reached the house. “Well, Ivar, this is it, the magic moment where I carry you over the threshold.”

He gave me a slap on the back, missing my arse by milimeters. I just shook my head.

“You are so headstrong. Do you want us both to crawl across it?”

He sighed dramatically and I knew that I had won. I steppped through the doorway and entered the longhouse. This was it. The last time I had entered this house, I was an orphan without a family or a home. Now I was the wife of Ivar Ragnarsson. How quickly the tables had turned.

“Don’t you have a cynical comment to make, dear husband?” I asked, as Ivar was uncharacteristically quiet.

“I just thought how strange it is that I left this house a bachelor and came back a husband.”

I hummed in agreement and we both were quiet for a moment. Then I shook off the odd pull I felt in my stomach and made my way over to the partition that was Ivar’s space. Once there, I let him down onto the bed more softly than I myself had expected. When I took a step back, Ivar looked at me in silent wonder. I smiled at him. A little insecure, slightly hopeful, but terribly unsure of what to do. Then I saw the bowl filled with warm water and the wash cloth beside it. My eyes wandered from that to Ivar’s face, which was dusty and and partly grimy after we had wrestled in the dirt. I took the few steps to get the bowl, then went back over to Ivar on the bed. Once there, I dipped the cloth into the warm water and wrung it out.

“May I?” I asked before touching his face. Again there was this slight insecurity in his eyes and he looked so much younger like that. He looked up to me, mouth slightly agape and as I touched the soft material to his face, he closed his eyes. I washed the grime off of his forehead and chin, his cheeks and also his ears. When I had reached his neck, I started opening his shirt. Again, I searched for his eyes and found them in silent agreement. I loosened the shirt, then pulled it over his head, marvelling at his finely chiseled, muscular torso and arms. But I didn’t give myself the time to get lost in the sight. Instead I went to work almost immediately. Now kneeling in front of him, I washed his chest and stomach, his shoulders and felt him sigh slightly. Then I continued with his arms down to his fingertips and cleaned every single finger. I looked at his big hands in my small ones, his thick fingers between my slender, long fingers. We were different, but we were the same in many respects, both not knowing where this might lead us. Before I even reached for his legs, he stopped me. He held my hands tight in his and looked away. Then he pulled me closer to him. His hand went to my face and held my chin. He gently tilted it up and gestured to me to get up from my knees. I did as he showed, as he guided me to sit on a small stool in front of him. He then took the wash cloth from my hands, dipped it into the water and administered the same care and attention to me, I had given to him. His fingers were a little clumsy at times, but he made up for that with enthusiasm. Even though he made me take off my dress, he let me keep on my undergarments. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was for my being comfortable or because he was slightly nervous.

He made me turn around to face him after he was done with my upper back and my eyes met his. We looked at each other in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Then he smiled a small smile.

“This marriage will either be the best or the worst thing that ever happened to me. But right now, I am happy to have you here.” He then said.

I shrugged. “I don’t deal in absolutes. It could be both, the best and the worst, at the same time.”

“I like your way of looking at the world.” He chuckled.

“You say that now, but get back to me on this in a year.”

“Ah, my wife. Always an argument, always something to say, always something to add. You don’t make life easy on yourself, do you?”

“Life is rarely kind or easy. At least it hasn’t been on me. And I like to laugh and jest all in good fun. I like being honest and not having to hide things or myself. This is me. But who are you, Ivar?”

“I am the son of Ragnar Lothbrok. I am the Boneless. But I am also a viking, one day I will conquer foreign lands and fight my way to Valhalla.”

“Yes, but besides that? Who are you when nobody is watching? What do you enjoy for yourself?”

He looked at me with a blank expression. I had felt for a while now that planning his future as a viking and becoming a legend had been the only thing he ever did and entertained, but then his schoulders released a little and he smiled.

“I like to help Floki. I don’t really help him, but I do small stuff. Keep him company, when he is lonely. I love listening to his tales, his wild ideas, the stories he has to tell. The things he told me about my father, when he was a young man.”

“Oh, that’s good. What else?”

“I like stories. Listening to tales and sagas. Hear about famous battles, strategies used. They are like little riddles waiting to be solved. What was the important factor in one side’s success and the other’s loss? What could have turned the tides? Could there have been a better defense strategy? Would it have ended in total annihilation had they used another strategy? I like these things, thinking up scenarios and their consequences.” He looked into the distance, thinking about something. Then he shook his head and smiled sheepishly.

“We should get to bed, get some sleep. I don’t believe you got much sleep last night, either.” He suggested.

I chuckled. “Yeah, no. That sounds like a good idea.”

And it was. Lying in the dark, next to each other, didn’t feel as awkward and outlandish as the thought had at first. At some point, I felt Ivar’s hand feeling around for mine. When he found it, he entangled our fingers and slowly, we drifted off to sleep.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings fanfiction #stories from kattegat #fates entwined #history vikings #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine

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lisinfleur · 5 years ago

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What’s under the bridge...

Author’s Notes | I had this idea at the moment I saw the prompt for “Ghost” in this challenge! So, I thought… Why not? Congratulations on the achievement, @tephi101! You deserve! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Sigurd x Reader Info | Modern Age AU, Supernatural AU, Plot Fixing AU, produced as part of the 800 Followers Celebration Challenge proposed by @tephi101 Words | 6182 ⁑ Warnings: Heathenry, mentions to reincarnation, witchery, some cursing.

Not by his actions, nor by anything great but his mistakes. The years had passed through Sigurd's eyes and he saw his name forever stained with his last moments and the stumble that caused his stupid and hateful death.

It would have been better to die by some Saxon sword at the battlefield. Not great, not big, but at least it would have been more honorable than dying by the hands of that stupid asshole of a little brother he had.

Little brother...

Through the days and nights that passed since the men left and Sigurd saw himself stuck to that inappropriate grave, the young deceased prince had time to think and re-think his entire life. How he had waited for Ivar's birth as if it was a gift from the gods finally listening to his prayers for a "Hvitserk" to himself... Someone to who he would be the big brother. Someone that would follow him through the childish games Ivar never played and hold the secrets he never had any will to share with the acid thing that came from his mother's womb after him, to steal his breast milk too soon, expel his young body from the warm embrace of his mother's arms now entirely dedicated to carrying that crying little monster everywhere.

Why?

Why did Ivar have to be so cruel?

They could have been friends even with his disability. Even with the sad fate the gods gave to his little brother; even with the things he lost so prematurely because of Ivar's condition; even then, Sigurd could have been his friend. He could have stayed inside to teach Ivar the oud or help him with his aim. He could have been Ivar's legs when Ubbe wasn't around. They could have been friends...

But something on his brother's mind was always feeling pleasure on seeing his suffering. It wasn't since the beginning and Sigurd could now travel through his own memories and affirm this with vehemence: he didn't hate Ivar since the beginning. He didn't feel pleased by his little brother's suffering since the first day. He could remember himself praying to the gods to ease Ivar's pain while his mother was in the living room, trying to lull his crying little brother with his broken legs...

He could remember trying to approach.

But Ivar was always so angry!

Somehow, the only moments when Ivar wasn't acid or furious towards him were the moments when Sigurd was losing something, being hurt, crying, scared, alone...

Ivar never stopped looking at him with the corner of his eyes while stealing something that could be divided in between them both, but he was keeping all to himself, leaving Sigurd without... Their mother's attention was the principal and favorite thing Ivar liked to rub in his brother's face. How easy it was for him to have everything from Aslaug, while Sigurd always had to beg his mother a drop of attention sometimes utterly denied with all the words he hated to hear...

"You don't need me anymore, Sigurd!"

"Don't come to bother me, Sigurd"

"I'm occupied, can't you see I'm caring for Ivar?"

Sitting beside what should be the bow of the boat drawing his older brothers made with stones for his funeral, Sigurd sighed.

He could remember the exact moment when it broke once and for all...

"Who cares?"

How could Ivar giggle and make his mother laugh of something as terrible as their young niece's death?

Poor Siggy drowned to death into that river and they were laughing?

"Don't come to bother me, Siggy! I'm caring for Ivar!"

She used to tell that little girl the same words she used to have for him. Siggy was a bother to their mother as much as Sigurd realized he was a bother for her himself. And if she was using the same ways to them both, then, if he died, it would be the same...

Who cares?

Who would care for little Sigurd's death?

The same people who really didn't care about his early end?

It was true: Ubbe and Hvitserk gathered stones to build that boat the time wasn't able to erase completely. Björn made the right sacrifices. Hvitserk's eyes judged Ivar with all the other eyes around and even Ivar cried, sitting on that bench, looking at his dead body laid on the ground...

But after empty promises of revenge, Ubbe left with Hvitserk at his right and Ivar at his left. They conquered York together...

They fought and made war with each other...

They became great!

And none of them has ever returned to that grave, to pay any respect for their fallen brother or remember his name.

With time, even Ubbe's anger faded away with his promises, and Sigurd's death remained unavenged. The doors of Valhalla forever closed for him...

Ubbe died.

Hvitserk died.

Ivar died.

Their sons and grandsons passed away...

And Sigurd's memory was forgotten in time as nothing but the young Ragnarsson killed by his brother in a table. In a stupid arguing.

Sigurd hated Ivar for long centuries. As he saw the villages growing and fading around his grave spot, the time passing, his heart became calmer and his fury cooled down.

And then, he started hating himself.

Why he didn't just leave?

Why he didn't just get up and left that table and Ivar speaking alone as he did so many times before? Why did he have to provoke or hurt one more time?

Was it really worth to win that arguing?

No.

The centuries had passed and he started seeing strange tall buildings on the horizon. And strange people appeared in his grave. They touched things, they moved his stones, they unburied his bones and then returned everything to its place, setting a plaque near his grave that he couldn't read, except for his own name written in the middle of that strange metal plaque, as the single thing in his language around the place he was supposed to own.

More years passed.

More strange people came and then, even the strangers stopped coming so often.

But not his people, nor the Saxon people that came after them, not the strange people that violated his tomb, nor the visitors that came after them with those strange boxes of light...

No one could really see him standing beside them, looking at those strange boxes they were pointing to each other, smiling at.

The boxes changed with time from black and big things to those thin rectangles of light the people would speak into, or point to his tomb, or to themselves with strange signals he couldn't understand.

But the things were always the same: they would come, point their strange boxes, blind him with flashes of light and then, go away, ignoring him completely.

Except for her...

That strange woman that came alone long years after the last visitor came with a box of light to blind him.

For a while, Sigurd thought the times had changed again and the boxes of light weren't a thing anymore, but she had one in her hand and she seemed pretty frustrated with that box, using it to point something else than those blinding lights.

"Fuck... I'm sure this thing is wrong! Now I came all my way to this place to end up in a dead Viking's grave instead of... Oh, shit."

Her voice stopped those unknown words when her eyes looked straight into his. And Sigurd got up, utterly surprised.

She wasn't looking through him.

She was looking at him.

"Can you see me?" he asked in his dragged language and she seemed to become paler.

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck no. HELL no! NOPE! I'm out! Listen, Mr..." she stopped saying whatever she was saying to look at the plaque before looking at him again "Mr. Sigurd Snake in the Eye or whatever is the correct pronunciation of your name. I'm not here! I'm not seeing you, you're not seeing me, I'm leaving, just pretend you never saw me ok? Bye, have a nice life... Death... Whatever." she said, turning her back on him and starting to walk away from the grave.

Whatever she was doing there, he scared her.

And if he scared her, then, she was the first person in a thousand years that could see him...

"Wait!! Wait, please!" Sigurd tried calling her back, walking after her, speaking on that language she couldn't understand.

Until the strange invisible barrier that locked him into that place since the day of his death stopped him from keep walking.

For some reason, the woman stopped walking as well. And she looked back, seeing when Sigurd sighed, lowering his head.

She could hear the sound of that barrier. The glassy sound of the barrier resounding his touches as if he was hitting the wall of an aquarium. It was a magical barrier. A conditional one, she knew that kind of spontaneous spell...

If it was glassy, then it could be broken as long as he was able to find out the condition that rose that barrier and locked him there. But if that man was there, slowly walking back to the boat of stones on the ground, then... Then he wasn't able to figure out his condition...

In a thousand years, at least.

And if he wasn't able to understand what he had to do to leave after a thousand years, he would probably be locked there for another thousand more.

She wouldn't last that long...

And he was so impressed she looked at him... Maybe she was the first person who ever saw him in a thousand years. Maybe her spell broke and failed to guide her to where she wanted but brought her there because somehow the gods were trying to save that man...

"Fuck..." she cursed, coming back to where he was sitting now, standing in front of him. "Sigurd, right? Sigurd Snake in the eye... That plaque says you were a prince, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, killed by your brother Ivar the Boneless..."

She was speaking, speaking, speaking...

And all Sigurd could do was looking up at her, frowning at her speech, understanding nothing more than his name, his brother's name, his father's name, all with wrong pronunciations and strange sounds where there should be their titles...

"Is that right?" she questioned, finally noticing the enormous question mark stamped on his frowned face.

She rolled her eyes.

"Of course, you can't understand me. Fucking shit!" she cursed again, messing with the box of light. "Ok, Google... What is the closest language to the Old Norse?"

Ok, Google.

Sigurd had heard that expression sometimes, from other people with boxes of light.

Maybe that was the name of the goddess that was answering her through the enlightened thing that started speaking, answering her question.

"Of the modern languages, Icelandic is the closest to Old Norse seen to grammar and vocabulary," it said, surprising Sigurd one more time.

Then, the girl started messing with the bright thing again and soon, the light on the screen became colored and she started speaking to the thing one more time.

Repeating that whole speech before turning the lightened box towards him.

Sigurd frowned completely.

But his frown became a huge surprised expression when the tiny bright thing started speaking something almost like his language.

"You're Sigurd Snake in the eye... That plaque says you were a prince, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, killed by your brother Ivar the Boneless during an arguing that happened after the attack of the Great Heathen Army against king Aella and king Ecbert in order to avenge your father's murder. Is that right?"

"For Odin's bollocks! This thing speaks my language...." Sigurd said, surprised.

And then, the girl tried to replicate his sentence, listening to the box translating it to something she could understand.

Using the box, they could communicate. Somehow that goddess Google was helping them. He would remember sacrificing a goat or something to thank that bright goddess for this help.

"You're dead. You know this, right?"

Sigurd sighed, nodding.

"I just don't know how to leave this place," he started speaking slowly, almost facilitating for the girl to understand his pronounce so she could repeat his sentences to the goddess at the box more easily. "I'm stuck here since my brothers buried me. My death was never avenged and I didn't die in a real battle so, the Valhalla didn't open its doors to me. However, Lady Hella seems to have rejected my soul as well and I'm trapped here. Not received in the hall of the Gods, not brought back to the wheel to try again a new life. I'm lost here, trapped. Living and reliving my life, not knowing what to do, ignored by everyone until... Until you came."

His eyes focused on her.

"What is your name, beautiful woman?" he asked.

And when the goddess' box translated his question, the girl became shy and blushed, causing Sigurd to smile.

Even after a thousand years, women still blush to his sweet words.

"Y/N," She answered, without using the goddess this time.

"Y/N," he repeated her strange name.

It was beautiful anyway.

"How did you end up coming here? Why there are so many people coming here with these boxes of light?" he asked.

Maybe Y/N was his chance to understand what no one ever told him.

"This is the grave of one of the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. Besides Björn Ironside, yours is the only known grave of your family. There is no real information about where is Ivar, Hvitserk chose to be burnt, no one knows where Ubbe died, so..."

The voice of the goddess stopped talking and then started again.

"I'm sorry. They were your family and I'm here speaking as if their deaths were nothing. Forgive me, please."

"How long?" Sigurd finally asked. "For how many years am I here?"

Y/N mumbled something to the box and the goddess spoke his language again.

"At least a thousand years..."

More years than he could imagine. Sigurd sighed.

"I'll never get out of this place, will I?"

His feelings on that sentence kinda broke Y/N's heart. There wasn't angry in his voice anymore. Nor fear.

Sadness.

That man was sad he would never see his kind once again. He would never be able to leave the place of his grave through the rest of the time a soul could last...

No.

Y/N was sure there was a purpose for her presence there and she didn't have burned out a super expensive spell to end up leaving that man lost and locked on that grave forever.

No way she would do that!

"I'll help you find your way out," the box repeated in his language and Sigurd saw Y/N was smiling.

"You're very gentle and kind. Whenever I reach the rooms of the gods, I'll speak to them about you. I'll carry your name and what you're doing for me forward, so you shall be well received when the time comes for you as well."

Y/N didn't want to think about her own death. But his way to speak was almost poetic.

And she knew his gods. They were her gods as well. She knew what he was promising was something huge. To carry her fame, to show the gods she was valuable.

"Thank you," she answered, before sitting by his side.

They remained silent for a while. Y/N was thinking, trying to remember all the spells she knew to break walls and to build them, to break and to build curses like that. One of them should figure out what he had to do.

But Sigurd chuckled after some time and it broke her line of thoughts.

"What?" she asked and he looked at her.

The box of light in the middle of them catching her words, translating the languages.

"It's just funny. I mean, for a thousand years there was one dumb sitting here, thinking. Now, it came to my mind that there are two. Not calling you a dumb... It's just funny."

She giggled when the box translated and her late laugh caused Sigurd to laugh as well. Her smile was contagious. She blushed again.

His smile became tender.

"How did you end up here?" he asked, curious.

And then her face became fully red.

"I... well..." She gasped the words and the box wasn't able to properly translate, causing him to frown at her and Y/N to sigh.

What he would do? Mock her?

Sigurd was trapped on that same spot of the world for a thousand years. He had no moral to mock on anyone... For anything.

"I was following a spell I made to find my twin soul," she said, sighing.

And he twisted his face, not really understanding. But she frowned, thinking he was making fun of her need.

"Look, we do what we can, ok? I made a study of all my past lives and I have been ending up all of them alone through the last five times at least! I believe these things and I promised me I wouldn't allow me to end another cycle without finding the person I belong to!"

Sigurd rose his hands looking at her.

"I'm not mocking on you... I just don't understand why a beautiful woman like you would need a spell to find someone to love. You would surely be married if we were near my years of life..."

Y/N blushed a little more, not looking at him.

"I thank you... but this is not true... I mean, I have no real memory of this but according to all the regressions, spells and studies I made, I did end a cycle alone at your years of life. I mean... Forget it. It will sound too silly for you," the box translated but Sigurd stood in front of her.

His arms crossed.

"I used to consult a Seer to see my future. And my mother was accused to bewitch my father, something I reasonably believed. Why would something like past lives and memories of the past sound silly for me? I'm dead, and yet, I'm here, talking to a woman that must be a thousand years younger than me through a box of light that contains a gentle goddess of communication. Nothing is silly at this point, love."

Y/N sighed.

"Look at me... Having to find a spirit of a dead Viking from a thousand years ago to finally get someone who understands me."

The box translated and Sigurd smiled.

"I get you on this as well..." he sighed "I used to feel utterly out of my family. I was a musician in a house of warriors. Not that I didn't like to fight and raid, but it wasn't everything in my life. I liked to compose... I miss my oud more than I could ever miss my ax." he said and Y/N smiled gently.

"I like the sound of the oud. They still play it today, not like your time, but they do," she said, causing Sigurd to smile.

"I wish I could play for you," he said, and she smiled.

"I would like to hear."

They smiled at each other and he raised his hand, trying to touch her cheeks. Nothing but a small breeze touched her face. Yet, she smiled.

"You're too gentle for a Viking prince," she joked.

And he smiled bigger.

"And you look like a princess," Sigurd answered, causing her to blush.

"Once I was one," Y/N said "But all I know is that my name was Blaeja. And I ended my life hiding from the enemies of my father. Just one of the many lives I ended up alone." She mourned, but that name clicked in Sigurd's mind.

"Blaeja... It was the name of a princess I knew!" he remembered, looking at her. "Yes... Blaeja... Quite before I died, my brother Ubbe and I were talking about her father's lands. She was our prisoner and we even spoke about a marriage between me and her. Ivar wanted to kill the girl, but I said I would marry her to stick our claim over the lands of her father and keep the poor thing safe from my little brother's sadistic ideas. But then, I died on that table... I never knew what happened to her."

Y/N looked at him, surprised. Something in his narrative fitted what she thought could be happening and her heart clenched into her chest.

"Sigurd... You're locked here since the day you died, right?" She asked.

And he nodded after the cellphone translated what she said, seeing how she covered her lips with her hand.

"What?" he asked, curious.

And Y/N looked at him, not really believing her heart could be right.

"Blaeja was my first life alone..." She mumbled, looking at him. "And after her, I never found my soul mate once again. I have been wandering from life to life, always searching for him. Always in vain. We never crossed each other's paths again... And my lives have been all ending in sadness and loneliness because I never found him..."

Sigurd's mind started making the same math her mind was doing.

It would make sense... He couldn't be in her lives because he never went back to the wheel. He never went to a new life or to Valhalla to claim her presence by his side. It would make sense his soul mate was lost while he was locked in that place for so long.

"She ended up alone... fleeing from my brothers' men..." he mumbled, looking at Y/N. "But we were supposed to end up together... And then, I would go back into the wheel to find her again... Or I would have gone to Valhalla, to claim my place on my father's table and her place by my side. But I'm stuck here... And you ended up alone..."

This time, Sigurd named her as his soul mate. And her heart ached into her chest.

"I lost you without even finding you first... Is that it?" Sigurd asked.

"And this spell brought me here... Not because my spell is broken," Y/N deduced. "But because it is you..."

They spent a long while looking at each other in disbelief before Sigurd broke the silence.

"It makes all sense now... I ruined my own fate and yours when I fought my brother that way. If I never had won that arguing, I would have so much more to win. A loving wife, children... I would have built the family I searched through my whole life. I would have found the other half of my soul, but I ruined it all because of my enormous ego and pride..."

Y/N and Sigurd were suddenly surprised when the barrier around him cracked with a loud thunderous sound. The glass was now visible to them both, like a dome around his grave, now fully cracked, covered in lines, threatening to break completely.

"What's happening?" he asked, and this time, the box of light answered to his voice, without the need of Y/N to repeat his sentence for it to be translated.

"That's it!" She smiled looking at him "You found the condition! You're somehow reconnected to Midgard!" Y/N celebrated "We're on the right way! Now we just have to find a way to break this down and you shall be free!"

She was so happy!

But somehow, it was Sigurd's heart who ached this time. He would be free... But he was dead. A long time ago! And she spent that whole time living without him. All those lives searching for him... She was releasing him from his torment.

And he would leave her alone... Again.

"I don't wanna break it," he said.

And the box of light repeated on her language, causing her to look at him completely surprised.

"What do you mean? Sigurd, you would be free!"

"And you would be alone, one more time! That's not fair. No. I stay. And you come to see me... And when you die, then, I figure out how to break this thing... I won't do it. I won't leave you again. My selfishness already hurt you enough."

Y/N smiled. Her heart warmed by the sweetness of that man.

"If I could... I would kiss you now," she said, smiling at him a little bigger. "And I would have been happy by your side. You're a good man..."

"If only I wasn't an idiot at my time, then, I would have married you," he mumbled, sadly.

However, Y/N's eyes glowed on his.

"Maybe we can fix it."

Sigurd lifted his eyes looking to hers.

"Maybe I can make a spell to send you back. I mean, I never tried this before, but I have everything that's needed in here... We have... We have this," she showed the stones of his boat. "This is a timeless spot that survived through all these years. It crossed the time and carries enough energy to such a big spell..."

"You would still remain alone, Y/N. I won't..." he started, but she smiled interrupting him.

"I won't exist, Sigurd," she said, causing him to frown even more worried.

"That's even worse!"

"No, that's not," Y/N's smile became bigger. "I exist because my soul was searching for yours in the wheel of life, dying and being born once again, searching for its other half. But if this works and I'm able to send you back, then... Then you shall avoid your mistakes. And as you said, you would have married Blaeja... I would have found you long ago, Sigurd. There wouldn't be a need for all the other lonely lives I lived after our lost chance."

Sigurd's frown disappeared. And he smiled at that woman his prettiest smile.

"If this goes right... I'll make you the happiest of the wives," he stated and Y/N smile.

"I have no doubt," she said, full of trust. "But now, your highness, forgive me, but I have to mess with your grave," she joked, invading the space of the boat and pulling some stuff from her bag.

Sigurd stood there, watching as she started painting on the stones of his boat some runes he knew from his mother's spells. The more she was painting, the stranger he felt. It was like she was touching him while painting the runes. And at some point, when she approached the last ones, Sigurd started feeling sleepy.

"I'm not feeling well..." he mumbled, feeling weak.

His legs failed and he sat at the bow of the boat, feeling utterly strange. There were thousands of years he didn't taste sleepiness, tiredness of that magnitude. And it was so strange to feel it again!

"Sigurd!" She came kneeling next to him.

There was a single stone not painted and it was the one behind his back. The one on the very top of the bow. It would close the spell, but she wanted to be sure things weren't hurting him.

"I'm fine... I'm just... sleepy. Too sleepy... I don't wanna close my eyes, Y/N... I don't wanna stop seeing you."

She smiled softly.

"You'll find me again. And when you do, I won't remember this meeting, but you will. So, keep with you that you were the sweetest person I ever knew. And if this fixes your timeline, but even then, I still exist, I'll never forget the sweetest prince I ever met," she said.

With the ink, she traced the last rune. And so, sleepiness became too strong, forcing Sigurd to lay down his head near her feet. His eyes were too weight. And he looked at her one more time.

"I'll find you... But if you're still here after this... Then... keep with you I..."

He wouldn't be able to conclude that speech.

His eyes were forcedly closed and the last thing he could do was mumbling words Y/N swore herself she would never forget.

"Thank you..."

His words got lost in the wind and the whole glass around that dome broke at once. Y/N could see the small dots of light from the broken spell raining over them, but when she looked down, Sigurd was gone along with the runes she painted on the stones.

"Wake up."

That voice sounded like his brother's voice... Sigurd took a while to open his eyes. They were heavy and his body was strangely dormant.

"Y/N?" he mumbled before his eyes could focus, but again Ubbe's voice sounded, this time, clearer.

"Who's Y/N, Sigurd? Tsk... Whatever. Wake up, brother. The men are reunited and Björn wants us to feast together so we can decide what to do with the army. That's a good time to talk about the girl."

Sigurd's eyes focused and he finally was able to see around.

Ubbe was walking towards the entrance of the tent and Sigurd's eyes rolled over the whole place: that was his tent at the camp. That was the morning before his death...

Her spell worked.

Now he just had to do things right and everything would be alright...

He closed her eyes and lowered his head in prayer. Thanks to Odin for bringing wisdom to his mind. Thanks to Loki for helping her to trick the time. Thanks to Google, for allowing them to understand each other. Even not knowing if that voice was a goddess at all.

Sigurd got up, looking at his own clothes. The same clothes he wore for a thousand years... The clothes he was wearing when that ax crossed his chest. He sighed.

And his steps followed the whole way to that table where he sat exactly at the place he remembered belonged to him.

On the other side of the table, messing with the pork ribs and eating, his brother...

His little brother.

His murder.

His heart filled with anger for a moment. And his brain thought like the Viking prince he was. He could just get up and sink his ax on Ivar's skull... He would never have the chance to kill him. But that wasn't what Y/N intended with that change... He would be arrested by his brother's murder in cold blood. He wouldn't have a proper reason. She would be alone once again...

He sat, silently listening to the whole scene. Opening his mouth only for the lines he remembered were his words at that time, trying to figure out when the whole thing went wrong.

And it was when the two of them started arguing strongly that Sigurd's eyes were able to see it coming: the dome of the curse started forming around that table, around him once again.

"You make me laugh, just like you do when you crawl around like a baby!" he spoke, drinking from his cup.

And then, the whole dome formed itself around that table, covering even the sky with that glass he was now able to see, starting to solidify its cracks when Ivar's voice sounded louder, angrier.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

"Enough!"

This time he was able to hear Björn's voice sounding almost like one last attempt of the Universe to give him a chance to step back...

To avoid the worst.

"This has nothing to do with you!" Ivar yelled at Björn, and Sigurd knew it was the time.

That would be his last line alive.

The last words he said that caused his brother's anger to explode, that ax to fly towards his chest and that curse to steal a thousand years of his soul mate's existence.

"You're right, Ivar. This has nothing to do with Björn. This is about you and me. You hate me, I hate you. We can't live together or handle each other. Then I'll solve it once and for all..."

The change in his words made the whole barrier of glass crack once again and Sigurd looked at Björn, completely changing the sight of that scene.

"The princess we have as our prisoner. She's Aella's daughter and heir, right? I'll marry her and stick our claim over his lands. And for this, I stay with the ones who, like Ubbe, wants to settle. The others who want to fight can follow Ivar's crazy mind. I don't care. We go through separate ways agreeing to what you said, Björn: Only the death of our father could keep us together. Ragnar is dead and avenged. Now, his sons shall split!"

"This sounds reasonable for me. I'll leave with the ones who want to follow me to The Mediterranean Sea and sunny places, as Ivar said. The ones who want to settle down can follow you and Ubbe towards Aella's lands. You marry the girl to settle the claim and Ubbe stays to help you with the settlement. Ivar, if there is anyone who wants to raid and follow you, then be it. But Hvitserk will go after you since he's a more experienced raider and it's better for us to keep some eyes on our backs in these lands. With this said, the men can split the way they want. It's done... Now sit and feast. We're here to celebrate, not to fight!"

The icy blues on Ivar's face crossed with Sigurd's eyes one last time. And then, his cripple brother sat, picking the ax only to sink it at the wood of the table, grunting in anger with the end of the arguing.

Sigurd sat once again, and when his cup touched the table, the whole barrier of glass shattered around the scene and only his eyes could see the pouring rain made of the enlighten dots into which the barrier had turned.

Sure that things were different as they planned, Sigurd poured some mead at his cup and picked up some pieces of bread and meat to his plate, getting up from the table carrying them both.

"Where are you going?" Ubbe asked and Sigurd looked back at him.

"I'll marry her, Ubbe. It's better if we have some time to know each other," he answered.

And Ubbe agreed, seeing Ivar was still annoyed and the distance would be better for them both.

Sigurd walked alone towards the tent where the girl was being kept.

Entering the small place, he could see her laid on the ground and for the first time he paid attention to her traces. His heart warmed: It was Y/N. Scared, her face stained by mud, dressed in Christian clothes of his time, but yet, the same face and traces he saw on that woman from the future...

"Blaeja..." he mumbled.

It would be good to have one of those boxes of light now with the good goddess Google to help him with the language lack in between them both.

Blaeja shrunk when he came closer, but Sigurd was gentle, slowly pushing the plate towards her along with the cup, and taking a step back so she could feel safe.

"Thank you," she mumbled and Sigurd smiled: she knew his language.

"This is a surprise... How do you know how to speak to me?"

"My sister Judith learned from a priest named Athelstan... She taught me, for a joke," Blaeja answered, still shrunk like a scared animal.

"It makes things easier." Sigurd smiled, kneeling by her side. "You know who you are and how things happen in our world. Whether my brothers would kill, or enslave you. But I won't let any of these happen. I'll keep you safe. I'll marry you, for your father's lands. But don't worry... I swear on my arm ring you'll be safe by my side."

"You're too gentle for a Viking prince," she mumbled.

And Sigurd couldn't avoid smiling bigger.

"You'll get used to this, princess..."

All the runes disappeared and then, the stones started to fade as well.

The figure of the boat faded away almost completely from the ground and Y/N got up, stepping back, watching impressed as the drawing disappeared to give place to a circle of stones perfectly placed just like the boat was before.

Surprised, she ran towards the plaque watching as the letters melted slowly until something new was formed on the metal.

Where before she could read the story of Sigurd's murder, now, something different was written.

"Circle of Stones built by Vikings," she started reading with tears in her eyes. "The dates settle the building of this formation at the time of the Great Heathen Army invasion..."

Word by word, Y/N's smile became bigger and she couldn't notice as the dots of light from the barrier started disappearing...

Along with her own figure, slowly fading in the air like a ghost.

"It is said it was built for the marriage of Sigurd Snake in the Eye and Princess Blaeja, daughter of King Aella, settling the Viking Prince as the king of the lands that were after equally divided between his sons."

The sensation of accomplishment filled Y/N entirely.

"You did it, my soul... You did it," she mumbled. "We can be together now."

And with a smile, her figure disappeared completely leaving nothing but sparkles of light in the air.

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four-loose-screws · 5 years ago

Text

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation - Chapter 5 Part 7

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

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Chapter 5 - The Battle in Verdane

Part 7

Noish returned from his regular scouting duty, and reported, ��There are very few soldiers stationed at Marpha Castle. We got very close to the castle wall, yet no one tried to attack us.”

Ever since his army had been taken out, Gandolf kept himself locked up in his room.

‘My woman ran away, my men are gone… what the hell is with my luck!?’

After enduring one loss after another, he didn't even talk to the remaining soldiers stationed at the castle anymore, so they'd completely lost their loyalty to him and did whatever they pleased.

With that information, Sigurd's army decided to march towards Marpha Castle and conquer it.

Since Aideen didn't have any offensive capabilities, she traveled slowly with the rear line.

"Lady Aideen!"

She whirled around to see where the voice had come from, and saw Dew running up to her. "What is it, Dew? I thought you'd left already."

"I did, well kinda. But then I found somethin' really interestin', and wanted to give it to you!" He offered her an ornate staff.

"Hm? Is this what I think it is?”

"I just know you'll be able to use it!"

Aideen took it in her hands, and knew immediately what it was when it's power flowed through her veins. "Oh my, this is a Warp Staff! Do you know what would happen if I used it on you?"

"..."

"You'd fly to an allied castle in an instant."

"Don't pull my leg, Aideen! No I wouldn't!"

"Of course you would. Anyway, thank you. This staff could be very helpful. Where did you find it?"

"Where? Um… over there. I betcha it fell from the heavens just for you!"

'You don't just find something like this lying around.' Aideen thought. 'It was probably in the treasury of one of the local village churches.'

"I know you don't believe in a thief's vow, but they really are true!"

"Well, I suppose…"

"I was gonna go wherever the wind takes me, but I couldn't! All thieves do is lie! I wanna make a vow for once in my life, and stick to it! They got a big fancy word for that! It's uh… um… 'mortals!' Yeah! I wanna have 'mortals!'"

"...I think the word you're looking for is 'morals.'"

"Yeah, that's it! 'Morals!' It might make up for all my lies…"

"And you intend to honor that vow?"

"Uh-huh! Whenever I'm havin' trouble, I always find myself comin' straight to you, Aideen!"

"Is that so? Sounds like more trouble for me than you…"

"I can't help it! I just… want to be around you, for some reason…" As he spoke, his eyes looked entirely serious.

"I see. Then please stay with me until you feel satisfied that you've made up for all your past wrongdoings."

Surprise lit up Dew's face. "Yeah! Yup, I sure will! You know, I'm pretty useful. Say, the army probably needs a lot of money…"

"But you can't steal! We aren't fighting for our own gain!"

"I know that! I'll only take money from guys doin' bad stuff to get it. That’ll make me a good thief, and I won't be doin' nothin' wrong!"

When Sigurd's army reached Marpha Castle, Sigurd didn't even have to lead his soldiers into battle, nor unsheathe his sword.

Not one soldier came out to oppose them as they slowly raised the gate and entered the main building.

Once inside, Sigurd heard a woman scream. "No, don't! Please, let me go!"

He followed the voice and saw two soldiers dragging a young woman into a room.

"Aw, don’t say that! This is the last time, we promise! Just keep us company for a little while!"

"The fighting is over! I must return home to the forest! Let me go!!"

"Shut up! Keep complaining, and you'll pay for it!"

"Hey, what are you two doing!? Let her go!"

The soldiers whirled around to see a tall cavalier and all his soldiers standing before them. And they quickly recognized the glittering emblem on the leader's chest: he was a Crusader of Grannvale.

"Oh shit!" They gasped and ran off in a panic.

"Are you alright, miss?"

"Yes, thank you." She said, then took a good look at the face of the man who'd just saved her. "Are you, by any chance… Lord Sigurd?"

"Yes, I am, but why do you ask?" He'd never seen her before. She had lavender hair and eyes that he soon lost himself in.

"There was a woman here named Aideen, who talked about you."

"Aideen talked about me?"

"Yes, she told me about how different you are from other men… and after meeting you… I know right away that she was right."

"What’s your name?"

She suddenly lost her composure at the question. "I'm sorry. ...I must… return home…"

"Wait, hold on! Surely we can talk for a little while longer, can't we…?"

"I'm sorry… really, truly, I am. But… I'm happy… to have met you." She took one last look at him, then dashed out of the room.

"Wait, at least tell me why you have to go so soon!" He had to run past all of his men, slowing him down. By the time he reached the exit to the building, she was already a speck in the distance.

Shanan approached Sigurd before he could go any further. "Lord Sigurd, the village elders are here to greet you." Behind him were three elderly people.

The elders walked up to Sigurd and bowed deeply.

"Do you know who that woman was that just ran away?"

They all stared at him, stunned by the sudden question.

"Um… she had light purple hair."

"Oh, yes, her! I heard her say she was returning home to the forest…"

"Yes, her name is Deirdre. She is the maiden of the Spirit Forest." The elder standing behind the other two said.

"Deirdre…" He said, and recalled her image in his mind. 'She was so beautiful…'

The elder smirked and said. "Oh ho ho, I see you have a weakness for beautiful women as well, Lord Sigurd! You fell in love with her at first sight, didn't you?"

"Don't tease me like that, Elder. ...But I do wonder where this Spirit Forest is."

"Are you asking me? If so, I'll tell you what I know."

"If it won't be too much trouble for you, then please do."

"The Spirit Forest is a very thick forest located northwest of here. Within it is a hidden village, and that's where she lives, or so I've heard. No one besides her knows for sure where it is, so I can't say I know anything else about it."

"I see…"

Upon seeing the disappointment in Sigurd's face, the elder added, "There is a village that's very close to the edge of the forest. Someone there may be able to tell you more."

"Thank you, sir. ...Oh, I apologize for not introducing myself properly. I am Sigurd, current leader of the Grannvalian Army in Verdane. I strongly prohibit my soldiers from pillaging and other improper acts, but if you three need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

Jamke ordered his unit to spread out in the forest, then took the lead and traveled down a small path.

About halfway to Marpha Castle, he spotted a group of several enemies.

He readied an arrow, and shouted, "Leave this country now, Grannvalians!"

The enemies continued to advance, so he shot his arrow. It pierced the enemy leader's chest, and he fell where he stood. The others all panicked and ran off.

If the Grannvalians had entered the forest, that meant Marpha Castle had already fallen. Jamke's unit wasn't very big, so he knew he had no chance of winning against an army that could defeat the large unit at the castle if they fought out in the open.

He was entirely prepared to die.

'However, before I breathe my last, I must show them the true spirit of Verdane, and take out as many of them as I can by myself!'

He continued along, and soon saw even more enemies. "Leave this country now, Grannvalians!"

He aimed his bow and shot an arrow at the gap in the enemy's armor near his neck. This attack caused these enemies to run away as well.

The soldiers that had encountered Jamke returned to Marpha Castle and reported that an exceptional archer was leading the incoming enemy unit.

"Is it Prince Jamke?" Aideen asked.

"He is an even more exceptional shot than Jungby's arch knights."

"Then it is him! He left to go convince King Batu to stop the fighting, but it seems he himself was convinced to start fighting again."

"I'll go." Midir said. "I will avenge Jungby's honor, and kill him."

"Midir, you can't go."

"Why not!?" Midir asked, enraged.

Deep down, he was jealous of Jamke and whatever had happened between him and Aideen when he set her free. Even though Midir did not know the details, whenever he heard the prince's name, he felt the pain of a thousand needles assault his body.

Aideen knew that very well, and was why she looked up at him, and said gently, "Midir, please understand how I feel. I don't want you to die." She stared him straight in the eye as she spoke, and couldn't bring herself to say anything beyond that.

“A great shot like you would be at a disadvantage fighting in the middle of a forest, where you can't move around much. I think it would be better for you to wait outside the forest." Shanan suggested, trying to break the tension.

Midir reluctantly agreed.

Sigurd's army quickly prepared for battle and left the castle.

Aideen placed herself not in the rear line, but right next to Sigurd.

"It's dangerous up here! Stand back!"

"I know. If you designate someone to talk to Jamke, then I’ll go back to the rear line.” She promised, but deep down, it was a lie.

'If he knew exactly what I was trying to do, he'd have someone make sure I stayed back there for good.' She thought.

They marched on until Jamke's unit jumped out from the forest.

Jamke ran towards them, then shouted, "Leave this country now, Grannvalians!"

When she saw him, Aideen sprinted towards him. Because she had done it so spontaneously, no one could move in time to try and stop her.

"No, Aideen! It's too dangerous!"

At the sight of enemy movement, the Verdanian soldiers raised their weapons.

"Halt! I'll take care of this woman!" Jamke yelled, and aimed an arrow at Aideen.

Sigurd tried to chase after her, but stopped Faran from going any further when he saw Jamke raise the arrow. He feared that with one wrong move from himself, Jamke would shoot the arrow.

"You tricked me!" Jamke screamed.

"No, I didn't!" She screamed back even louder, refusing to lose to the volume of his voice.

"Then why didn't you stop Grannvale!?"

"We received an order from our king! One that I didn't know about before! There's another man like Sandima in Grannvale, too! I'm sure of it!"

"You expect me to believe that!?"

"If you don't, then go ahead, shoot me straight through the heart." Aideen took one step forward.

When she saw that he wasn't trying to shoot, she took another step forward.

"I came to apologize to you. And… to stop the fighting between us once more…" She continued to walk forwards.

"I can't let you trick me this time!" His yelling this time was closer to screeching. His arm holding the bow string started to shake.

"At the very least, please, let's not fight now." Aideen held back tears, making her voice quiver. "Why must we kill each other!? We've turned into Sandima's puppets… Why must so many people die without good reason?"

"..."

"If you fight here, you'll die! I wouldn't be able to take it! If you must fight, then kill me first. I don't want to see you die.”

Now, they were so close to each other that they didn't have to shout, yet Aideen's voice still got all the louder.

"If you must fight, then fight Sandima and all of his allies in Valhalla! Please, please stop fighting! There's already been enough killing!"

Now, there were only a few steps between them.

Jamke tossed his bow aside. "Aideen, I can't kill you." He walked past Aideen's side, and called out to Sigurd, "Prince Sigurd, if you swear to me that your true enemy is Sandima and Sandima alone, then I will call a ceasefire!"

"I swear it on my life, Prince Jamke." Sigurd replied. "We have no reason to fight King Batu. When Sandima is dead, we will stop."

"What about your king's orders?"

"I will report that Sandima was the cause of all of this. If he still orders us to fight, then I will side with Verdane, and fight Grannvale."

"Alright then, I'm calling a ceasefire. We'll fight Sandima, together." Jamke turned around to face his unit and said, "You heard him, everyone! I will fight Sandima with Prince Sigurd. If you dissent, then go home to Verdane. If you intend to fight me, do it now."

His soldiers gathered around him. "Prince Jamke, we're going with you. We don't like that Sandima guy either! Let’s kick his ass!"

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