#since they are married & Lagertha has done this before herself

[neechees]

It doesn't make sense that Lagertha started hating Aslaug for temporarily taking over Kattegat as Queen/Earl while Ragnar is away. Lagertha literally did the same thing when Ragnar was Earl & they were still together. Did she just expect her to let the town not be run by anybody for years?? The whole drama was so pointless & stupid & so was Lagertha & I'm with Aslaug on this one

[disasterofastory]

Married to Vikings Part 3 (Ubbe x Reader x Torvi)

Married to Vikings Part 3 Ubbe x Reader x Torvi Warnings: none

Y/N spends time with Torvi and Ubbe.

The gif is not mine.

Your life in Kattegat starts with shopping. Torvi comes with you to the market.  You need warmer clothes than you brought with you. She speaks with the traders and helps you with the seamstress. You focus on their words while Torvi assists when you forget something, or you say them wrong. You enjoy your day together. The Viking woman is much different than you or any other woman you ever met, and it’s refreshing. She is not afraid to say what she thinks, but at the same time, she patient with you and your questions. She shows you around the village, helping you to remember where everything is. The Viking woman even chooses a few daggers for you. “Are you sure I need them?” You ask her uncertainly. “You need to learn how to fight,” she says, examining the weapons. “Of course, we won’t send you into battles, but you need to know how to protect yourself.” “Okay,” you murmur, watching her buying the right ones. At the back of your mind, you already think about how you could learn to fight. You're nothing like a shieldmaiden. You are not strong enough and definitely not brave enough. “Um, can I ask you something?” You ask her after a while as you wander around the market.

It's very different from what you're used to. The traders are from different cultures with lots of exotic spices and fruits and trinkets you never saw before. Their words are heavy with an accent as they bargain with others. “Of course,” Torvi nods, looking at you from a stall. “Why are you nice to me?” You ask her. Torvi was nice to you from the beginning. You glanced at her a lot, waiting for any disapproval showing on her face because you are the second wife. “What do you mean?” “Well… I don’t know how I would feel if my husband married another woman beside me.” “It’s not that strange here,” she explains, paying for the fruits she picked out. “If a man wealthy enough, he can have as many wives as he wants.” “But still,” you insist. “I just don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t know how to act because of it.” “You shouldn’t worry about it,” she smiles at you, pulling you along. “I must admit,” she continues. “I spied on you a little bit before the wedding.” “What?” You look at her, surprised.

Yeah, that’s true. Torvi needed to make sure you are a good choice for them. She didn’t want an uptight woman who does nothing but praying the whole day. When she first saw you, you were with your sister in the gardens. You talked and laughed. You were lively and pretty.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I wanted to know who Alfred’s choice was.” “No, don’t be sorry,” you tell her. “I understand. If I had a chance, I would have done it too. And… so what are we to each other?” You ask her. This question jumps around in your head since last night. “For now, we are friends,” she says with a nod to herself. “For now?” You ask back, puzzled. “Have you ever been with a woman before?” She asks you suddenly. The blood flows up to your face in seconds. “O-of course not,” you shake your head. “And you don’t find women attractive?” The question makes you stop. Every part of your beliefs says that the answer is no. It’s sinful. But if you want to be honest… you find Torvi attractive. She radiates confidence and bravery. And she is beautiful with her blonde, almost white hair and her big, green eyes. She smiles knowingly, amused at your embarrassment. “You are pretty, Y/N,” she says. “And you don’t have to be afraid of my disapproval. If I had opposed this marriage, you wouldn't be here.”

With new, warm clothes you can start to learn about the farm. Torvi shows you around the animals and the way how to take care of them. They have chickens and goats and a few horses. And to your biggest surprise, you are good with them. You enjoy taking care of them even when you are dirty and tired at the end of the day.

Ubbe and Torvi are happy to see you adjusting to their world. They are amused at your Christianity and your naivety but impressed at your working tolerance. You crawl around the mud without a second thought if it’s needed. You don’t complain, but you tell them if something is wrong. You are still shy and a little bit distant, but it’s understandable. The Viking world is still new to you, and you can’t get used to it in a few weeks. “What do you think about her?” Ubbe asks his wife, sitting at the table with a slice of apple pie in his hand as he watches you through the opened door. “She is great,” she says, following Ubbe’s eyes. You scatter food around the chickens, chuckling at their enthusiasm. “She still has a lot to learn, but she is eager.” “Did you talked about… me?” He asks, glancing at Torvi. “No,” she answers, a mocking smile forms on her lips. “But I know she likes me.” “Do you bragging?” He asks, biting into the slice. “Are you jealous?” Torvi asks back teasingly. “A little,” Ubbe admits with a shrug. “You should talk to her more,” Torvi advises her husband. “I will meet with Lagertha. This is your chance.”

You are so engrossed feeding the animals you don’t notice Torvi’s departure and Ubbe’s standing form at the door, watching you. The Viking man finds himself enjoying your focused expression and your curves in the pants you wear. “Y/N,” he says your name after a while. You look up at him, surprised. “I will go hunting,” he continues. “Do you want to come with me?” “Sure,” you nod, but your voice is uncertain. Being alone with Ubbe is still new to you, and you always try to be with Torvi. The man never showed you any hostility, and you know he was attentive the first night you spent together. Other men would have continued their movements, but he made sure he gave you as little pain as possible. “Did you ever hunted?” He asks, and you answer him with a ‘what do you think?’ expression. He smiles at your reaction, giving you your furs before he grabs his weapons.

The walk into the woods is quiet but not awkward. He makes sure you can keep up with him while you are too busy watching everything. You enjoy nature. You've never been this close to it, and now everything looks new and intriguing. You feel like a child again with new experiences. “How are you feeling here?” He asks you after a while. “Torvi told me you adjust well.” “Yes, I guess,” you answer, moving closer to him when you step into the woods. “I know I still have a lot to learn, and it annoys me when I don’t understand what others say, but I never thought I would… enjoy it.” “Are you enjoy being a heathen?” He asks teasingly. “I...’m not,” you want to argue with him, but you pause. Since you are here, you didn’t really think about your God. At first, you tried to pray every day, but soon you became too busy or too tired. You tried to reassure yourself that God probably understands your lack of prayers, you are in a new place in different circumstances, but as the weeks passed, you didn't even care about it anymore. Ubbe watches you amused. He is having fun seeing your uncertainty. Of course, if you choose to remain a Christian, he will respect it, but if he has the opportunity to change your beliefs, he will. You have much more chance to survive in their world if you follow their rules and traditions. “Did you ever used a bow before?” He questions you again, changing the topic. “No,” you shake your head, looking at the weapon in his hands. “Try it,” he says, pushing it into your hands. You look at him, shocked, not knowing how you should use it. “I’ll help you,” he says, stepping behind you adjusting your hand and arm the right way before he gives you an arrow. You feel small before him, feeling his movements around you. He leans over you, explaining everything you need to know, and you really try to listen to him, but you are too busy with his close presence. His voice is deep and gentle next to your ear, his breath is warm, and his touch is calloused on your skin. He places his hand over yours, pulling on the string till it stretches enough. The arrow flies out from its place, hitting a tree not far before you. You look up to Ubbe behind you, smiling with joy, but you know it was not your work. Ubbe’s led your every move. Without him, the arrow would probably have fallen out of your hand. “You should be worried,” you say to him teasingly. “Maybe I will be even better than you.” “We will see,” he says, moving back from you to continue your way deeper into the woods. The afternoon you spend with Ubbe is pleasant. You enjoy your walk among the trees, listening to animals, and trying to stay still when he says. He tells you about his family, and he asks about your past. He is teasing and easygoing. You laugh at his jokes and banter with him when it’s needed. When you step out of the woods, it’s already dark and cold. You pull the furs closer to you to keep yourself warm. “Did you have fun?” He asks you, dead rabbits hang over his shoulder. “It was good,” you nod. “Thank you.” He smiles at your politeness, pulling you closer to himself by your shoulder. He had his own insecurities about this marriage between you and him. Firstly, he wasn’t sure about Torvi’s acceptance, no matter how many times she said to him that it’s okay and he didn’t know how you would adjust in their lives either. He imagined a pompous, fussy woman who can’t do anything on her own, and you were a pleasant surprise. But now, especially after this day with you, he can see a well-balanced relationship between the three of you. You are clever in your own way, and you complete them just the right way. “There will be a feast in a few days,” he says. “It will be a little bit different. Do you think you are ready for it?” “Are you going to sacrifice me?” You ask him, and you don’t know you mean it as a joke or not. “No,” he laughs. “You will be safe.” “Okay then,” you nod. “And soon you should meet with the children,” he adds, looking at you for your reaction. “Okay,” you nod more confidently. You saw their children from afar a few times since you are here. Torvi talked about them a lot to you, and you are excited to get to know them.

When you get home, Torvi is already waiting for you, and soon you two cook the rabbits for dinner. You tell her about your day with Ubbe while the man skins the animals. You feel content under the dim lights of the fireplace and candles with your husband… and wife. This is the feeling you always imagined as a child when you imagined your marriage and… well, love.

Tags: @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @mystic-shadows42​

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame V

Author’s Note: Chapter 5, things take a turn for the dramatic and a bit angsty here. I really am having fun getting reacquainted with this story, and I have a lot planned for future chapters and an ending. Thanks for being such a wonderful audience, your feedback is always appreciated!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2307

Warnings: Master/Servant dynamic, mentions of suicide attempt, blood, angst

Ivar was exhausted as he propelled his way forward through the city streets. He had opted to stay up on the walls with his warriors through the cold night. It had served to enliven the men into a frenzy to have his presence, but he had only done so out of avoidance.

As the days went by, it seemed his little nun had less to say to him. The truth of the priest's death weighed heavily on you, and you carried it around like a sickness. You had lost your desire to argue or even to spare a simple word. Ivar was disappointed. He had given up trying to teach you his language when you had refused to repeat everything he taught you. The only way he could spurn a reaction out of you was to address you as Ólaug, but even that enjoyment had waned.

Thoughts of revenge against Lagertha were never far from his mind, nor was Kattegat. The heathen army was not destined to stay in York, but while Ubbe and Hvitserk were fixated on settling in on Saxon farmlands, Ivar had other ambitions. He was torn by the enticing idea to travel and become a conqueror, or return to Norway and have his revenge for his mother's death. His brothers looked to have abandoned that notion, leaving him alone and frustrated with his hatred. They would say it was because they did not want to fight with Bjorn, but Ivar knew it was that they didn't love their mother as much as he had.

Ivar did not like feeling so lost. It made him feel like a boy again, only now Floki wasn't there to give him guidance. He was certain he was fated to cross paths with the rangy lunatic one day, but what madness would lead them back together was not foretold. Without Helga, Floki had become as empty as a horn with no mead. Ragnar had vanished for ten years, yet Ivar could not recall his mother ever being heartsick over his absence. Not all love was meant to last.

The concept of love and marriage was something he had been considering more often as of late. As a leader to his people and a son of Ragnar, it would be expected of him to have a wife and heir. Ubbe was already married, and Hvitserk likely had fathered a brood of children he didn't know about. Where did that leave him? Even if he took a wife, it wouldn't be long before the people would speak about the lack of an heir. Ivar did not consider himself to be nurturing, but for his own children, he would have tried. Now it seemed impossible that they could ever exist.

"Ivar."

He was broken out of his dour thoughts by Hvitserk. It took half of his own stride for his brother to catch up to him. Even with the braces and crutch, his mobility was limited, but he chose to take the muscles he had built as a victory. Though his legs were useless, they no longer hung from his waist like gnarled tree branches. They almost appeared normal, except that they couldn't bear his weight. 

"You have news," Ivar guessed to Hvitserk, who had slowed to match his pace.

"Our scouting party has returned with word that the Saxons have made camp south of here. They don't appear to have a plan of attack yet. Maybe now is the best time to negotiate for land when we have the advantage."

Hvitserk's tone was pleading, and Ivar was sure he could get him to grovel with the right persuasion. 

"Yes, we have the advantage. So why compromise our position for negotiations that will end in rejection," Ivar said, and he delighted as Hvitserk's face fell. "The Christians do not want us here, brother. If we want land then we'll take it."

"At least let me or Ubbe go. We don't have to give up our position behind the walls, but we can send one of us to negotiate, as a son of Ragnar."

"And risk losing a brother to the enemy? No, that would be foolish and I would appear ill-advised," He said, rounding the corner towards his room with Hvitserk following. 

His intention hadn't been to return to his chamber, but with Hvitserk's desperation and his lethargy, fate had brought him back to the familiar door. Thoughts of sleep were welcome, even if he detested retiring during daylight. 

"This decision should be made with all three of us. We need to sit down with Ubbe first before anything is final," Hvitserk said, not abandoning his cause.

Ivar let out a sigh before casting a long look at his brother. This was important to him, and to Ubbe. He didn't want to continue to have strife with his brothers, even if they didn't share the same aspirations for the army. "I agree."

"Really?" Hvitserk's mouth hung half opened as if awaiting another argument. "Well...then let's do that."

"Yes, fine." Ivar waved his hand, hoping to banish him from his sight. 

Opening the door to his room, he had hoped Hvitserk would take the hint to leave, but instead, they were met with a startling sight. The air stung with the smell of copper, and there was Ólaug, on your knees weeping. The stone floor before you had a puddle of blood, enough to fill a large pitcher, and you were clutching your left wrist. A gash had been cut there, and lying on the ground next to the blood was the weapon. It was a broken piece of a clay plate.

Ivar threw his crutch to the side and dropped to the ground in a heap of twisted bones and metal. His braces were heavy, but he managed to crawl to you quicker than he would have walked. Ignoring any proper thoughts of decency, he pulled you to him to inspect the damage.

"Get a healer, now," He shouted to Hvitserk who had stuck to the doorway, disturbed by what he had witnessed. The order got him moving, and he disappeared to fetch a healer while Ivar tried to stanch the bleeding with his larger hand over yours.

"You stupid Christian, look what you've done," Ivar hissed. He was sitting in your blood, the warmth seeping through his trousers. Your back was held tight to his chest while he tried to keep from jostling you around.

"Forgive me," You uttered over again, and Ivar knew the words were not meant for him.

This was the closest you had been together since the first night you had spoken. You were still devoted to your weak God, and Ivar wasn't certain you had even taken heed of his proximity. To take one's own life was cowardice, and he couldn't understand what had driven you to act on such an impulse. You were pitiful, in need of comfort, and he was enraged. After the courtesy, he had shown you this was how you chose to escape him. His hand clenched tight on your arm, his nails biting into flesh until you whimpered.

Just as he contemplated finishing the work you had started, and it would have been simple to take the clay shard to your throat, Hvitserk returned with a healer.

"You need to move, Prince. I must see what I'm dealing with," said Audhild. She was their most senior healer, a broad woman with wiry blonde hair and shrewd green eyes. With skillful hands, she tended to battle wounds, not Christian thralls. If she had any grievances about being summoned, she hid them behind a stern face of practicality. 

Ivar passed you over to Audhild. You had grown cold and quiet, ceasing your own utterances to your God. Hvitserk was at his side with a hand and his crutch to lift him off the floor. The first thing Ivar sought once he got back on his feet was the bucket of tepid, clean water to wash up. He had been covered in the blood of his enemies before, but when his hands hit the water and darkened it to a murk, he felt a strange sadness.

"What happened to her hair?" Hvitserk questioned, coming to stand at Ivar's side.

"She did that to herself," mumbled Ivar. He wasn't in the mood to entertain all of Hvitserk's questions. "Just more Christian nonsense."

"It could have been worse," Hvitserk intoned in a low voice. "At least she didn't keep this hidden and try to kill you in your sleep."

Ivar looked at the jagged piece of clay in Hvitserk's hand before resuming his wash up. He couldn't make out his own reflection through the filth of the water, but he could feel the frown on his face. The thought had never crossed his mind, and he was certain it hadn't crossed his nun's either. 

"No, she would never risk the wrath of her God by murdering me," He said, drying his hands on a rag.

"You sound confident." Hvitserk's tone lacked the same strength. 

"Yes, here we are," He quipped, tossing the sodden rag at his brother. "This isn't my blood that was spilled."

Hvitserk set the rag aside, along with the makeshift knife. He seemed prepared to argue further but was interrupted by Audhild. She had far less blood on her hands and appeared satisfied with her work. 

"The cut was not deep enough to be fatal. A part of her must have wanted to live," said the healer.

"No, it was fear of her God. Sinners go to Hell." It was utter nonsense that kept you alive, he was certain of it.

Audhild's eyes crinkled to a squint, unsure what to make of this information. "Well, her wound will heal, but she'll need to eat and drink to replenish what she lost."

Ivar peered passed Audhild to his thrall. You were whiter than your old virginal robes, and your head was bowed. Except for the rise and fall of your chest, you were still like a statue. He had no kind thoughts towards you at that moment.

"Take her to the kitchen to be fed. She can remain there with the other thralls," said Ivar, turning away. 

Hvitserk perked up at the remark and came forward. "You aren't keeping her?"

"No, I have no use for a cowardly slave."

While Hvitserk looked alarmed by his callousness, Audhild appeared thoughtful. "Excuse me my Prince, but before you make that decision, might I inquire about her usefulness? If she was a nun prior to this, then she should have skills to aid me. They tend to their sick and dying, not to goats and pigs."

"Fine then, you take her," Ivar huffed. "Just get her away from me."

Audhild said nothing more, taking her dismissal as she went to collect you from the floor. 

You startled from the healer's touch on your shoulder but stood up when you understood you were being ordered away. Ivar fought the need to watch you depart but surrendered to the urge at the last moment. You were looking back at him also, curiosity alight in your sad eyes. And there was fear also. You broke the gaze that lingered between you both, following Audhild out of the room.

"Why did you do that?" Hvitserk asked the moment they were alone. 

"I already told you," Ivar bit back, in no mood to have to explain his rationale to his slow-witted brother. "Go and fetch Ubbe. I want to hear what plan you think you have to negotiate with the Saxons."

Hvitserk took on a concerned frown. He must have known there was little hope for their plan of a sit down with the Saxons now. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as Ivar assumed.

He trudged to the door, halting once he got to the entryway to get the last word in. "I have seen these nuns do this before. You shouldn't have been so quick to release her, brother. Something must have happened to make her act on impulse like that."

Maybe something had occurred to spurn such a reaction from you, but at the moment Ivar could not see through his fury to consider such possibilities. You had tried to use death as a means to escape him after he had shared parts of himself with you. He told you of his parents, and you had spoken in kind of your own. By granting you those stories, he had allowed you to know him. It was more than he had given to another in years, and this was how he was rewarded. The Gods were not smiling down on him today.

"I'm not like you, father," He said aloud, with the hope that his words would reach Ragnar in Valhalla. "I can't befriend a Christian."

He staggered over to the abandoned washbasin. It would need emptying by another thrall now. The broken clay shard remained atop the soiled cloth, and Ivar felt it in his hand. His rage had peaked, and he squeezed the piece of clay until it drew blood from his palm. When the sting of the blade ceased, he pitched it across the room, shattering it to pieces.

The silence in the room made it impossible to ignore that he was alone once again. Ivar collapsed onto his pallet of furs, braces still intact on his legs, and the exhaustion returning along with this new hurt squeezing his chest. He was tired of being let down by others. No one ever remained at his side. 

Hvitserk was wrong. He couldn't keep you after knowing you would rather die than be his thrall. Lying on his side, Ivar could see the dark stain of your blood on his floor, and he turned away. Yes, he was better off without you tearing everything he had built apart.

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[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today I

A/N: Hello again! I’m so excited to share the first full chapter of this fic with you all! It’ll definitely be longer than the prologue, so the majority of the chapter (and the taglist) will be under the cut! If you want to be added to my taglist for this fic, please don’t hesitate to contact me through my askbox, DMs, or commenting/reblogging this post to ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you! And if you don’t, thank you for reading anyway, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary:  When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

—

820 A.D.

The day Lagertha arrived in Wessex with a few other Vikings, Aethelind had been focusing on her wedding arrangements. As the Princess didn’t want to get married in the slightest, the arrival of the Vikings was a very welcome distraction.

She had been called to her brother’s villa to greet their new… were they guests? Alfred certainly wasn’t seeing them as such, that much she could tell. Her eyes scanned each Viking’s face, looking for one in particular she could recall clearly from her childhood. Seeing that he wasn’t there was... disappointing, to say the least. But, Bishop Heahmund, who she recalled had disappeared with the Vikings for some time, caught her attention when he began to speak.

“Your Majesties, King Alfred and Princess Aethelind,” the dark-haired bishop began. “I would like to introduce my, er… companions, to you.” The twins shared a curious look at Heahmund’s choice of words, but Alfred still nodded.

“You may proceed,” he told Heahmund.

“Thank you, My Liege,” Heahmund replied, and then did exactly that. “First, I have the honor to introduce the Queen Lagertha, of Kattegat.” Both Aethelind and Alfred turned to look at the woman Heahmund had gestured to, and they nodded to her respectfully, only Aethelind wearing a polite smile.

Immediately, she decided Lagertha had to have been the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her long, white hair fell around her shoulders in thick curls, and whatever strands were not hanging loose, were held up in an elaborate braid. She had kind eyes, too, kinder than most Saxons would have imagined a Viking woman to have. But Aethelind still remembered another Viking with kind eyes, and so the fact Lagertha also had them was less surprising than it must have been for others.

Lagertha herself stepped up once she had been introduced by Heahmund, smiling kindly to both Aethelind and Alfred. “It is an honor to meet you both,” she said, and her smile seemed to grow somehow warmer. “Please, allow me to introduce the rest of my family.”

Before Alfred truly got a chance to respond, Aethelind was answering, “We would be delighted, Your Grace. By all means.”

Lagertha gave Aethelind a gracious nod, then turned to the taller of the two men in her company. He wore his blond hair in long, thick braids down his back, with a beard to match. “This is my first and only son, Björn Ironside,” she introduced, before turning to the other man. This one, Aethelind noticed, was almost the spitting image of Ragnar Lothbrok. If her suspicions were correct, then that would mean…

“This is Björn’s brother, Ubbe Ragnarsson.”

Aethelind was floored, and her eyes widened in shock at the revelation.

“Ragnarsson?” she repeated. She began to grin then. “You must be Ivar’s brother. Tell me, how is he? I haven’t seen him in years, now.”

The air in the room suddenly became thick, and filled with tension as Ubbe realized that this must have been the girl Ivar mentioned, back when their father had first died. He had never given very much detail about her, but Ubbe had gotten the feeling- more than once- that Ivar might have missed her- not that he would have admitted it. But looking at her now, Ubbe could understand easily why Ivar would have missed her.

Aethelind was a beautiful young woman, with dark waves that flowed freely down her back, contrasting with her fair skin and vibrant green eyes. This, with what he had been able to pull out of Ivar about her kindness and generally sweet disposition, had Ubbe convinced this was that same girl, now a woman, that Ivar had known, and that he was entirely right to miss her.

“How do you know Ivar?” Björn questioned, and she turned to answer him. However, before she could speak, Ubbe answered for her.

“This is the girl Ivar mentioned when he returned from Wessex,” he said. “He just failed to mention she was a princess.”

Aethelind smiled softly at Ubbe, and she asked, “He mentioned me?”

“As much as he’s likely to mention anything that’s important to him,” he answered, and Björn scoffed.

“In other words, he made us aware you existed, and the rest was up to us to figure out,” he said.

“I take it he doesn’t open up very easily, does he?” she commented. “How is he, though? Is he well?”

Aethelind didn’t receive an answer, however, as Björn turned to Ubbe and said, “We cannot trust her. She is too close to Ivar. She’ll take his side.”

Ubbe huffed a bit at Björn’s conclusion, and when he next spoke, it was in their native tongue. “She probably has no clue what Ivar has done,” he pointed out. “And at this point, she may be our best chance at reclaiming Kattegat. Without her help and her brother’s help, we’ll be too busy trying to survive here to make any plans about Kattegat. And even so, their support on the battlefield, if we could get it, would be a great asset.”

“Ubbe is right,” Lagertha agreed. “At the least, we should make her aware of the situation, and our request. Then, it is up to her if she chooses to help, or not.”

“And if she decides to help Ivar?” Torvi, the younger, blonder woman with a gentle face and large blue eyes, asked. “We could end up hurting our chances.”

The twins watched as Lagertha put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder, not understanding what she then said. “Torvi,” she began. “We must trust the gods. If it is their will that we receive aid here, then we will. But, we must trust them enough to trust them with the decision Princess Aethelind and her brother come to.”

At the mention of her name, Aethelind and Alfred share a look. What on earth was Lagertha talking about?

Torvi sighed but nodded, choosing to trust Lagertha on this, especially considering she knew Lagertha was right. She moved to stand beside Ubbe, and from the way he put his hand on her back, Aethelind realized he must have been her husband.

With this handled, Lagertha turned back to Aethelind and Alfred, giving them a small smile even as she sighed. “I imagine you have not recently communicated with Ivar, if you are asking how he’s been, yes?” she asked the twins- though, really the question was more for Aethelind. Lagertha didn’t get the feeling Alfred was half so interested in Ivar the Boneless as Aethelind was.

“Yes,” Aethelind confirmed, and smiled sadly. “I wish we could have kept in contact with each other, but… I did not speak his language, and he did not speak mine.” She paused to sigh, and bit her lip as she looked to Lagertha again. “And… I get the feeling you’re about to tell me this is a good thing, aren’t you? That I have not been in contact with him since I last saw him?”

“I am afraid so,” Lagertha answered. “It will make this… easier to hear, I think.” Aethelind regarded her curiously, wondering what she meant. “Ivar has taken Kattegat.” The Princess took this information in, nodding along as Lagertha spoke. “He led a civil war against myself and his brothers. Thousands died in his pursuit of the throne. He is now King, but-”

“My brother is a cruel man,” Ubbe interrupted. “I worry for the people of Kattegat under his leadership.”

“If you can call it that,” Björn scoffed. “He will enslave our people, and treat them like prisoners. We cannot allow this.”

“I don’t understand what you are asking of us,” Alfred said, and Aethelind sighed.

“I believe they are asking for aid, in whatever way we can give it,” she told her brother. Her attention turned to Lagertha, who she found had a rather calming presence. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Lagertha answered. “Even if you can only offer shelter for one night, it is more than we have now.”

The way Lagertha spoke, Aethelind felt herself wanting desperately to help the displaced Vikings. They had asked for none of this, and though it hurt to hear of Ivar’s involvement in the situation, she knew that what was done was done. All they could do now was figure out where to go from there.

“We will have to think on this,” Alfred told the Vikings. “Until we have a decision, the guards will take you to-”

“My villa,” Aethelind interrupted. “You may be hesitant to help, brother, but I am not. Lagertha, Björn, Ubbe…” She paused, looking to the other woman whose name she had not gotten.

She seemed to understand why Aethelind had stopped, and supplied her name. “Torvi.”

Aethelind nodded sweetly, then continued, “And Torvi.” She took a breath. “You will all have my support. For now, that will be food and shelter. I hope to offer more in the future, but I am afraid this is all I can do at the moment.”

“This is more than we could have hoped for,” Ubbe said. “Thank you for your kindness and your generosity, Your Majesty.”

“I don’t like to see injustice, is all,” she confessed, and swallowed. “No matter who is perpetrating it.”

The Vikings all knew she meant Ivar, and they realized suddenly just how fortunate they had been that she wanted to help, and had wanted to help them, over Ivar. She had no history with them, but with Ivar, she did. Truly, it must have been the gods’ will that she be on their side.

“Still, you have our gratitude,” Ubbe insisted in light of this.

Aethelind smiled to him, and said, “You should rest before we feast tonight. Go. You will be shown to your chambers by our Head of House, and we will see you this evening.” She inclined her head to an older woman, who stepped forward and gestured for the Vikings to follow her, following the command given to her by Aethelind.

Once the Vikings had left the room, Alfred sighed and turned to Aethelind. “Does my authority mean nothing to you?” he questioned her.

The Princess stood firm, and answered with a strong voice, “Not when you were going to make a horrible mistake.”

A tense silence filled the room as the twins challenged each other, maintaining eye contact for far longer than was comfortable for either of them. Eventually, Alfred was the first to break it.

“I have important matters to attend to,” he said, as if that were why he had broken the eye contact. Aethelind’s smug expression proved she didn’t believe him, and so he added, “We will speak more about this later.”

“Of course,” Aethelind agreed, and Alfred huffed. But, he did seem to soften a bit toward her.

“In the meantime,” he began. “Please be careful.”

She smiled softly at him, and took her brother’s hand. “You know I will be,” she replied reassuringly.

Alfred chuckled a little, and confessed, “Sometimes, I think you are truly too good for your own good.”

Truthfully, Alfred had quite the soft spot for beloved twin sister. She was an incredible young woman, and Alfred thought she deserved the world. Of course, they were both close to their older half-brother Aethelred, but Alfred and Aethelind were twins. They had shared a father, one they’d never known, and now, they shared a bond with each other that neither would ever share with anyone else.

Aethelind gave Alfred’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Get on to your ‘important matters’,” she said playfully. “I love you.”

Alfred chuckled softly and returned the squeeze, answering her, “I love you, too.” He finally left the room, leaving her alone. Aethelind looked to the door the Vikings had left through, and sighed. She had just told Alfred he’d been making the wrong decision, but in trusting Lagertha and her family… she hoped the one who was making the wrong decision wasn’t her.

—

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @wilhelmyna, @katfett, @fangirl-nonsense, @zuzus-sun

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 27- Somebody You Can Blame- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ivar learns the meaning of compromise.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn xTorvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragna, Lagertha

Warning: arranged marriage, mentions of sexual assault/rape, violence, sex, torture, language 

Word Count: 2467

Ch. 26

AN: I appreciate everyone’s patience with this chapter. Work got stressful there for awhile and spent my free time focusing on destressing and self-care. I’m on Winter Break now so hopefully, I can focus more on things I enjoy. 

I had a hard time writing this chapter. It was almost done and then I didn’t touch it for 2 weeks because I couldn’t get the love scene done. I don’t normally have so much trouble but, for whatever reason, this one troubled me. 

I knew you all deserved an update so I did what I could with it. Let me know what you think.

“Compromise is not about losing. It is about deciding that the other person has just as much right to be happy with the end result as you do.”

~Donna Martini

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ivar screamed, slamming the door behind him. 

Ragnar sighed and gazed into the amber liquid he was swirling in his glass. He was not surprised that his youngest son had followed him. Frankly, he expected it. His anger was misplaced if not understandable. 

Ivar was under the impression that he could tell his wife what to do. He was young and had yet to learn that Lothbrok women were never told what to do. It did not end well for the men. 

The Lothbrok women inherited the name through marriage, yes, but Ragnar found that all of the women tended to display a certain tenacity when it came to their desires. Ragnar learned early in his life that he was attracted to strong and determined women. 

Lagertha was strong willed and had never backed down from his endeavors to be the best. She followed him wherever he wished to go and, when the gods saw fit to separate their paths, she succeeded in her own right, leading a team of her own men and proving to him that she did not need him then and did not need him now. 

Aslaug was powerful in her own way. She matched him in wits like no other and she gave him four beautiful sons. She’d brought him to his knees more than once with her cleverness. 

Oh how he’d wished he could’ve kept them both but Lagertha would not share him and Aslaug was not one to come second.  

As his sons grew, he realized they were much like him. All of his daughters displayed a strong will and fought for what they wanted. 

Ivar was having trouble grasping this fact apparently.

“My son, it is time you learned that you cannot tell a woman what to do much less your wife.” He turned to face Ivar and grew amused at the rage mounting within his youngest.

“Why are you so angry, child?”

“You undermined me! In front of my wife!” 

Ragnar clicked his tongue and sat behind his desk. He gestured for Ivar to take a seat but his son only narrowed his eyes. Ragnar shrugged and drained his glass. He licked his lips.

“Ivar, your wife is not a trembling flower on the branch. She is oak, unbendable even in the strongest of storms. It’s important for her to witness what this family does to those who betray us.” Ragnar raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

Ivar narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never doubted her will. I know exactly what she’s capable of.”

“Then why do you object?” Ragnar stood and faced his bar cart, pouring himself another drink.

“A blood eagle is no place for a woman.” Ivar startled when Ragnar barked out a harsh laugh. 

Ragnar turned to face his son. “My boy,” he clicked his tongue and settled his drink on the corner of his desk. “Now I know you’re not stupid.” Ivar opened his mouth to protest but Ragnar cut him off with a raised hand.

“No place for a woman? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, is the saying, yes?

“Lagertha attended Jarl Borg’s blood eagle. As she should’ve since she helped bring him down. We couldn’t have done it without her. It would’ve been disrespectful to exclude her. 

“Your mother was there, as was her right since he tried to kill her and your brothers. Even Torvi was there and he was her husband at the time. She practically insisted.” Ragnar stepped towards Ivar and smiled.

“Son,” Ragnar settled his hands on Ivar's shoulders. “Why do you protest so much?”

Ivar stared at his father, lost for words for the first time. Ragnar gave him a knowing smile and patted his cheek. He released him and picked up his scotch.

“She comes. I think it’ll surprise you, how much she enjoys it.” Ragnar sat and flicked his free hand towards his son, a dismissal.

Ivar blinked, took a deep breath, and turned on his heel, stalking out of the office. Ragnar grinned into his scotch, joy bubbling in his chest for the first time in days.

.

Aaline shouldn’t have been surprised at the anger that swept into their room alongside her husband. It was like a storm cloud closing in on a city where it had once been bright with sunlight. 

He opened the door with such force that it bounced off the wall behind it and landed with a thud back in its frame. 

She could feel him seething behind her, his breath coming out in harsh puffs, blowing against the hairs along the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to ground herself. 

She turned slowly to face her husband who was red with rage. She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A deep growl built up in Ivar’s chest and he bared his teeth. “Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice contradicted his anger. His tone was smooth and calm. 

Aaline tilted her head, studying him. His eyes were narrowed and black with rage. His shoulders were raised and tensed, rising with each breath he took. His hands were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white and shaking. She lifted her eyes to meet his, challenging him. 

“I’m curious. What have I done?” She asked. 

The noise that left his throat made her shiver and heat pooled in her stomach. He began to crowd her and she backed away, angry at his attempt to intimidate her. 

He backed her into the wall and dropped his chin, glaring at her from under his brow. She glared right back up at him, her own breath coming out in short puffs of air that ghosted over his chest. 

“You’ve embarrassed me. In front of my father, my brothers. You undermined me.” He pressed his hands against the wall beside her head. She arched a single brow in surprise, astounded by his impertinence. Then she narrowed her eyes and shoved the heels of her hands up under his ribs, successfully pushing him back enough to duck under his arm.

“I embarrassed you? You made me out to be some damsel in distress. Acting like I can’t handle trauma. Do you know what I’ve been through?” She shouted. She stormed across the room, putting distance between them, and turned to face him.  

He snorted. “Do I know what you’ve been through? Of course I know what you’ve been through. I’m trying to protect you.” She laughed without humor, making his anger well up in his chest, flushing his face. 

“Protect me? You’re not trying to protect me. You’re trying to control me. You want your brother’s to think that you get to make the decisions in this marriage. Do you forget that in marriage you compromise?” She pointed an accusing finger at him. He remained silent.

“Don’t ever try to say you’re protecting me. We all know you’re not.” Her chest heaved from her sudden breathlessness.

Ivar stomped towards her and pushed her finger down. She scoffed. “Do you even know what happens at a blood eagle?” He said, accusation heavy in his voice. 

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing. He nodded and hummed low in his throat. 

“We’ll tie him up so he can’t move his arms and his legs. He’ll be stripped from the waist up and barefoot. Ragnar will start by cutting down the length of his spine, then making cross cuts at his shoulders and waist. Aelle will scream.”

Ivar searched her face but found nothing. He pressed on. “Norsemen believe that screaming will bar the accused entrance to Valhalla. My father has performed only one other blood eagle. On a man named Jarl Borg, Torvi’s first husband.” Ivar hummed at Aaline’s look of surprise. 

“Didn’t know Torvi was married before, did you? Björn’s her third husband.” Ivar held up three fingers to emphasize. “Jarl Borg was her first. Ragnar blood eagled him after he tried to usurp him. He tried to kill my mother and my brother’s. This was before my time.

“According to Björn, Jarl Borg didn’t make a sound when father cut him open. He sat there, on his knees, as my father opened his back, broke and spread his ribs, and tore his lungs from his chest. Not a sound passed his lips.”

Aaline could feel the heat in her face. She wasn’t sure if it was anger, lust, or embarrassment that made her hot but she wouldn’t let Ivar win. 

“Are you trying to scare me?” She whispered.

“Are you scared?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Ivar sneered and stepped away from her, shaking his head. “A blood eagle is violent. It’s…” She cut him off.

“You think I can’t stomach violence?” She was indignant. Ivar whirled to face her, his lip curled up and his face filled with rage. 

“Let me finish, woman!” She snapped her mouth shut with an audible click and glared at him. He continued.

“It’s violent, yes, but most of all it’s torture. My father will be torturing a man to death.” His voice was low and almost soft. For the first time since he’d entered the room the anger seemed to leave him. Aaline could feel her own anger dissipating. 

“Anyone not necessary to the ceremony need not attend.” He finished. 

Aaline took a deep breath and approached her husband. His back was to her. “What about Sibylle?” She whispered. Ivar turned his head to the side, eyeing her in his peripheral vision. 

“Sibylle is the widow. She’s supposed to be there.” Aaline stepped around to face him. 

“She’ll be alone.” She said, running her hands down Ivar’s chest. Ivar shook his head and caught her hands at his ribs, pressing them down and still.

“She won’t be alone.” He answered. Aaline nodded and curled her fingers against his ribs, scratching gently at the tender skin there. Ivar grunted and suppressed a shiver. Aaline tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplative. 

“Maybe I want to be there with you.” She whispered. Ivar blinked, his face unmoving, and tightened the hold he had on her hands. She looked up at him and met his eyes, unflinching.

“This is the only part of your life I haven’t seen.” She searched his eyes, bringing their faces ever closer. “I want to see it. I need to see it, Ivar.” His name had hardly left her lips before he came crashing down towards her. 

He pressed their lips together in a violent clash of teeth and tongues. She moaned into his mouth and bit his bottom lip, pulling it between her own. Ivar hissed and swept his hands down her sides and beneath her thighs, lifting her with little effort. He walked them forward until her back was pressed against the wall.

She locked her ankles around his waist and tangled her fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Ivar groaned and slipped a hand between them, probing her center. 

She was soaked already and a shiver ran down his spine. 

Aaline trailed one hand down his neck and across his shoulder, dropping it between them and going to work on his pants. Ivar groaned against her lips and pulled away, settling his face in the curve of her neck when her hand wrapped around his length. She nosed his ear and squeezed, his hips arching forward against her. 

She moaned and circled her thumb around his head, collecting the precum there and trailing it up his length, stroking him in long, slow slides. 

Ivar gasped against her neck, the hot air sending chills along her spine and heat to her belly. He dropped an arm under her ass, supporting her against the wall. His other hand came up to the side of her face, cradling it. He lifted his head from her neck and met her eyes. 

Her hand slowed between them until all she was doing was holding him. Ivar kept his eyes locked on hers as he slipped his hand down from her face to her neck. Using his thumb under her jaw, he turned her face to the side and latched his mouth to the curve of her neck, sinking his teeth in and sucking. 

Aaline cried out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, digging her nails into his back. Ivar grunted and released her neck, dropping his hand between them. He fingered her pussy, pushing her panties to the side. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked the head of it against her drenched lips.

Aaline moaned and tightened her hold on his shoulders. Ivar pressed himself forward, breaking her open slowly. Aaline moaned and tightened around him as he buried himself inside her. 

Once he was pressed all the way in, he sighed against her neck, pulling back and pressed his lips to hers. Aaline rocked her hips forward and plundered his mouth, taking him inside her in all ways she could. 

Holding her hips steady, Ivar pressed her into the wall. He pistoned his length inside her walls with devastating accuracy, leaving Aaline shaking against him. He pulled away from her mouth and settled his lips on the untouched side of her neck, giving her matching bruises. 

She shivered against him and brought a hand between them, circled her two middle fingers around her clit. Ivar groaned when she clenched around him, his hips stuttering against her. 

She groaned when he brought his hand down around her wrist and stopped her from circling her clit. He pulled back from her neck and pressed his forehead against hers, mixing their breaths. Aaline met his eyes and brought her hands up to frame his face.

“Wait for me.” He whispered. Aaline released a broken sigh and nodded, pushing her fingers up into his hair.

Ivar rocked his hips against her, increasing his speed. He replaced her fingers with his own and she cried out, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He pressed down hard against her clit and felt her shudder around him, her walls trembling around his throbbing cock. 

He stopped circling her clit but kept rocking forward. He grunted and froze against her. She could feel him twitching inside her, his cum leaking out where they were joined. 

She stroked her fingers through his hair, breathing hard against his neck. He pulled back, staring at her. She stroked her thumb along his cheekbone. 

“Promise me, you’ll stay with Sibylle.?” He asked quietly. 

She smiled at him and, still stroking his face, nodded. “I promise.”

Tags: @dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @kingniazx 

[literary-spirit]

Lessons of Devotion

Chapter 6

Bonnie spent the next several days restoring Rollo's former keep. By the end of the fifth day, she moved in and Queen Aslaug gifted her with a new bed, a table, two chairs, and a large barrel to use for baths. Bjorn gave her bulks of silks, linen, furs, and leather material to fashion a wardrobe that would range from great hall feasts to raiding next spring. For that task, her magic did the bulk of the work. In no time, she had several dresses fashioned after wears she'd seen on the hit television shows Reign, Last Kingdom, and Merlin. She even threw in some retro fits from her time period. For her raiding gear, she went straight Valkyrie from Thor Ragnarök.

She stared down at the leather black raiding outfit she wore, frustrated she couldn't see the gear on her in its entirety. Craning her neck, she looked over her shoulder to see if she could catch a glimpse of her butt. "Damn, wish I had the full-length mirror from home," she mumbled to herself.

Seconds later the mirror materialized in front of her. Her bottom lip kissed the floor. Although the emergence of her mirror from thin air stunned her, the reflection which stared back at her shocked the southern fried shit out of her. Instead of her sassy twenty-seven-year-old self-staring back at her, she was staring at her scared of her own shadow eighteen-year-old senior in high school self. The self who died before she even had the chance to graduate. How? Why? She rubbed a hand over her face, unable to believe the lie her reflection attempted to tell.

A knock sounded at the door and she hurried to cover the mirror with a few bulks of stray fabric. When she turned to answer the knock, Bjorn walked in followed by Torvi and the boys. Bjorn carried a chest, while Torvi held a battle ax and a sheathed sword.

"Bonnie, you fashioned your raider's wear?" Torvi placed the weapons on the table and hurried over to spin her around. "It's made so well, you're barely able to see the stitching. Look, how the chainmail overlays the length of her arms and bosom area. Bonnie you have to make me one. Wait until Lagertha sights this."

As Torvi continued fawning over the raiding outfit, Guthrum rushed over and wound himself around one of Bonnie's legs. Hali, not to be left out, toddled over with his arms raised. Bjorn, who had since place the chest on the table next to the weapons, watched her with a complacent expression locked tight on his face. Conflict, however, incinerated his eyes until they glowed brighter and bluer than a Brazilian sky. One could only imagine the battle which waged inside his head.

"Of course, I'll make one for you," she said as she leaned down to scoop Hali into her arms.

The intensity in Bjorn's eyes doubled, when his gaze traveled over her and Hali, "You'll have to wait until after you give birth to done the garb."

"It's enough to know I'll have it when time comes," Torvi insisted, standing back to stare down the length of Bonnie once more before turning to her husband.

"Bonsie, will you come before slumber to finish the saga about the street rat, and the Jinn?" Guthrum questioned.

Bonnie squatted with Hali still in her arms pecking away at her cheek, "Yes, and if we finish early we can start on a new one."

"Alright," Bjorn said, snapping from whatever mental deliberation he wrestled with to the point of distraction, "help your mother ready the keep for Lagertha's visit on the morrow. We'll fish in the harbor once you've finished."

Torvi and Bjorn exchanged a stare that screamed a thousand words without whispering one. Torvi glanced away first to regard her with warm eyes that put cups of cocoa and comfortable furry slippers to shame, "Will we see you at second meal? Queen Aslaug does enjoy squandering a great amount of your time." She finished with an eyeroll.

"I'll be there," Bonnie smiled, handing Hali back to Torvi.

With that assurance, Torvi nodded and ushered the children from the keep. After the door to the keep closed, Bonnie's gaze moved to Bjorn. He still watched her with eyes that burned her in a place she couldn't even begin to try and soothe. "What troubles you, my protector?"

"You," he straightened from his lean on the wall. With deliberate purpose he crossed the room. "You trouble me. So does your voice that I hear even when you're not near... and your eyes that forces me to misuse time because I'm occupied staring into the trees to find their likeness in hue... but let me not misremember your mouth! For how can I misremember your mouth which tempts and mocks me just so of the point of madness...your hair, in which my hands long to fist themselves...your scent, which intoxicates and besots me until I'm no better than the village drunkard." He paused to lift her onto the table. After cupping her face in his hands he continued, "Everything about you troubles me." He dipped his head to press a lingering kiss to her lips. "And it troubles me that I'm troubled by you. It troubles me that I can't merely make you my concubine because my heart refuses to recognize you as anything other than my wife...my future queen." He kissed her again, this time slipping his tongue between her lips. The taste of him ripped a moan from the bottom of her throat. Without any real thought behind the action, her arms snaked around his neck. "Marry me, Mystical One."

In that moment all she wanted to do was drown in him. To become overwhelmed by the absolute epicness of him. And if she was just a woman and him just a man with a heart equal in measure to the demigod who stood before her, then to him she would submit. Goddess, help her, she'd become his wife and carry a minivan full of children for him. Alas, she wasn't just a woman and he wasn't just a man. They both had roles to roll with and it was too early in the game to allow emotions to get in the way of them achieving the victory history had already saw fit to deny him.

"I'm sorry, Bjorn," she leaned back from his grasp, "I can't."

Several emotions filtered across his face, but the one of pain is the one which stuck with her. "Why? I know you would be my second wife, but you have to know you'd always be first in my heart."

"There's someone else, Bjorn," she said, figuring there was no better time than the present to make Klaus' place in her life known. "There's someone I left behind, who's waiting for me back in my land."

"And he holds your affections?" He backed away from the cradle of her legs. "Even now?"

"He's my family," she said, barely above a whisper.

Bjorn scoffed, before spinning around to stalk toward the door. Opening it, he paused, "Whomever he is, he doesn't deserve you. Anyone who could misplace one as rare and precious as you, doesn't merit the treasure the gods have gifted him." With that said, he left.

Bonnie's eyes closed, and there in silence she allowed the salty liquid droplets of pain to slip freely down her face.

****

"Mother said Bjorn has spoken to her of his plans to marry, Bonnie," Hvitserk said to Ubbe's back as he followed him through the forest.

Ubbe remained silent. He already knew of his older brother's plans to marry his Mystic One. Anyone with sight could bear witness to how taken he was with the girl. Odin's eye, they all were. Her beauty and exoticness was unique to any other in Kattegat. Hel truth be heralded, anyone in all of Norway. Yet, her physical appeal only attracted one's attention, it was everything else about her which intrigued. The whole of her is what provoked many topics of conversations at the long table and had every ear trained on what she would possibly say next.

"Well, she will not have him," Ivar said, while gripping the sides of the wooden plank on which they dragged him. "She will have none of you. You all see the way she gazes upon me, hmm?"

It was true. Whenever in Ivar's presence, she couldn't keep her verdant pigmented eyes from meeting his. The strangest thing. One would think she didn't even see him as a cripple, but instead as an unbroken man who was capable of being her provider and protector.

Sigurd scoffed. "Have you ever even been with a woman, Ivar?"

"Sorry, Little Brother," Hvitserk laughed, leaning down to ruffle Ivar's hair, "Nestled between those dark thighs is my home and I do mean to return to the comforting heat of her hearth."

They reached the edge of the forest which gave way to the cove. Hvitserk was about to pull Ivar out but something with in the falls of the water snared his awareness. He raised a hand to signal for Hvitserk to halt. The shadow in the water moved into view and their collective breaths caught. There in all her bared radiance stood the matter of their debate. Her body was beyond perfection. Even through all the froth lathered over her golden bronzed skin, he could tell her tempting frame was crafted by and for Odin. For what mere mortal man would be worthy of a woman such as her?

"I don't understand?" Ivar mumbled. They turned to see there little brother gawking at the overexaggerated man stand towering in his lap. Fear glistened Ivar's already too blue gaze, "What is happening?"

"What don't you understand?" Sigurd frowned, barely tearing his eyes away from a now rinsed clean Bonnie. "Is that your first one?"

"Looks like you're not quite so boneless after all, Little Brother," Hvitserk said, reaching down to squeeze Ivar's shoulder.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Ubbe's mouth as he returned his gaze to Bonnie. She now stood on the rocks near the waterfall rubbing a liquid substance of sorts into her skin which made her rare hue glisten in the sunlight. Unable to resist her any longer, he left the cover of the trees.

"Ubbe!" he heard Hvitserk hiss.

"Where's he going?" Sigurd panicked.

"Where do you think?" Ivar answered.

****

Bonnie stood in front of the waterfall, dipping her head back. She allowed the supernaturally heated water to rinse the homemade co-wash from her head. With the pads of her fingers, she gave her scalp a deep massage. Her eyes slipped closed. Mm, she needed this after how things went down with Bjorn. No matter her feelings, she couldn't afford to lose focus.

Ansel's warning growl from the bank alerted her to be on guard. Her eyes snapped open and collided with a bottomless sky-blue gaze. Ubbe towered before her bared tanned, hard, ripped and cut the hell up with godlike precision. For a full minute they remained struck in awe of the other. Unable to take her eyes off of him, she backed away. Once she bumped into the large rock holding her belongings, she squatted to retrieve her shower scrub and a scrap of linen from her basket.

When she reclaimed her spot in front of him, she commenced to bathing him. She started with his face, and then worked her way down to his solid shoulders. There, she kneaded the rigid muscles into pliable submission. After she relieved the tension in his neck she moved on to the firm hills of his chest. With ease, she glided the rag over the dipped crevices of his abdomen. She lifted her gaze to stare in his eyes as she attempted to wrap the linen scrap around all eight inches of him. Which was no easy task since the girth of him was almost the size of her ankle in width. Once secured in her grasp, she gave him a few firm tugs that earned her a long-drawn-out moan and a couple of grunts.

"Don't marry Bjorn," he demanded in a hoarse broken whisper.

She gave him another massage infused pull, "I wasn't planning to."

"Good," He leaned down and captured her upturned mouth with his.

The kiss he rocked the hell out of her mind with was nothing like she believed him to be. Under all that arctic chill simmered a passion so fierce and wild she'd nearly missed the splashing of the water in the distance. She severed her lips from Ubbe's in time to see Sigurd and Hvitserk's glorious but naked form trotting over to them.

"Shit," she hissed, and broke away from Ubbe.

Snatching her basket from the rock, she disappeared behind the curtain of frothy falling water. Quickly, she put on white bikini bottoms and a matching wrap top, items she managed to displace from home in 2018. Once dressed she stepped back through the waterfall.

Hvitserk greeted her with one of his signature wide smiles. "Our turn." When he glanced down at her bikini bottoms, a frown battled back his previous good cheer, "What are those? Is that some strange fabric barrier to preserve chastity in this Mystic land of yours?"

"Why is your muff bare?" Sigurd questioned, fucking all over the boundaries of her personal space. "Have you not completely reached womanhood yet?"

"First, I'm not done with Ubbe yet, so you'll wait your turn." She began, addressing them both with her chin raised and hands planted on her hips. "Second, these or bikini bottoms and they're made for swimming, not preserving chastity, Hvitserk. Third, Sigurd, I'll have you know I'm all woman and the reason there is no hair down below is because I prefer a clean canvas down there. And Fourth," She looked over the three of them, "where's Ivar?"

"Back on the shore. He can't swim," Sigurd said, his tone dismissive.

She stepped closer to Hvitserk and Sigurd, palming each of their cheeks. "Will you both please get him and place him here on the rocks. This platform is large, flat, and stable. It should be safe enough for him over here." When they nodded their assent, she stood on tip toes and kissed them each on the corners of their mouths.

Once alone, Ubbe wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "I apologize for my brothers' interruption. Can I come visit you at your keep after second meal?"

"Isn't that normally when you meet Margrethe in the barn?" She asked, watching as they placed Ivar on some sort of wooden raft.

He yanked her backwards through the waterfall. When they were obscured from the view of his brothers, he allowed his hands-free reign over her body. One reached up to palm her breasts, while the other slipped into her bikini bottoms. He devoured the side of her neck with open mouth kisses. His thumb grazed over her clit in persistent brushes, provoking her overheated good-good to ooze her need all over his hand. Whimpering, she silently urged him on by further parting her legs. Instead of giving into her quiet demands he kneaded her breast and tweaked her nipple. The roughness of his touch had her grinding into the heel of his hand.

"I do not care to meet Margrethe in the barn this eve," he rasped next to her ear. "I'd rather greet the next rising in your bed. Now will you have me, Valkyrie?" He tried to press two fingers in her entrance, but her good girl being a tease refused admission. After a brief pause, he downgraded to one finger and she still refused to bloom. "Are you a-,"

"Where are you two?" Sigurd yelled from outside. "We need help getting Ivar off the raft and on the boulder."

"Do you think they're-," Hvitserk began.

"No," Ivar cut him off, "Bonnie's, girdles are not nigh as light as Margrethe's."

She broke free of Ubbe's hold and straightened her bottoms. After stepping back through the waterfall, she jumped from the rock into the water and swam over to the raft. Ivar searched her face, and then looked over her shoulder at Ubbe who'd just reappeared back through the froth of water. A smirk settled on his all too willing lips.

"As I said before," Ivar said to no one in particular, "Some girdles are light and others..." his dancing gaze moved to regard her, "not so much. Greetings, my love. My brothers tell me you requested my presence over on that boulder."

Her heartbeat tapped out a peculiar rhythm upon hearing Ivar refer to her as his love. "Yep, I wanna bathe you and wash your hair. Do you have any objections to me doing so?"

His brows leaped to his hairline as he shook his head, "N-no."

For the next couple of hours, Bonnie bathed, shampooed, and groomed the Lothbroks. They each seemed to bask in the attention. Especially, when she braided Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd hair in actual designs instead of the sloppy twists they usually wore. Since Ivar's hair wasn't yet long enough for braids, she trimmed it into a precision cut. By the time they made it back to Kattegat the second meal had already begun. She was late for dinner with Bjorn and Torvi. If she didn't hurry she'd miss it altogether.

"I'll see you guys later," her gaze darted to Ubbe first before moving over all of them, "I had fun, thanks for helping me to take my mind off things."

She turned to walk towards Bjorn's and Ivar grabbed her wrist. "What things?"

She squatted and kissed him on the lips. "It doesn't matter." With that, she stood and hurried away.

****

The next rising after first meal, Bjorn greeted his mother in the great hall. People who remembered her from long before as Ragnar's first wife waited in Kattegat's long house to welcome her. Although he was happy to see his mother, only half his heart cared she visited at all. Bonnie's refusal still pained him. Why would she choose another over him? Surely, he couldn't be the only one between them who harbored such affections.

"I said, how have you fared here since your return, my son?" Lagertha's voice, delivered him from the torture which was his thoughts.

"Distracted it would appear," Astrid, his mother's...Astrid said.

Bjorn waved off their observations. "I've fared well enough. Although, Floki has informed me that the fleet he's building for the Mediterranean won't be available until next spring."

"Oh," Lagertha reached up to rub his back, "I'm sorry, Bjorn."

He shrugged. "Just as well, Torvi's carrying again."

"Bjorn, this is wonderful news," Lagertha hugged him, her smile nearly splitting her face in two. "The gods have truly favored you and Torvi."

This time he felt his own smile creep into his eyes. "They do, in truth Bonnie has assured me this babe will be a girl."

"Bonnie?" Confusion snatched Lagertha's head to the far left.

"The dark woman he brought back from his last raid," Astrid enlightened, "The one he placed under his protection."

"Ah," Lagertha's pale brows shot up as she gave a slow nod. "I remember. How is she? Is she still a part of your household?"

"No, she now resides in Rollo's former keep," Bjorn answered, while tracking Ubbe's march into the hall.

"That's better for all," his mother exhaled, seeming somewhat relieved.

"No!" Bjorn snapped, dragging his attention from Ubbe. "I do not think it's better for all. I suffer-w-we suffer very much from her absence. The sooner she agrees to become my wife, then and only then will we all be the better for it."

"Your wife?!" Lagertha low hiss shrieked. "Did you leave your wits in the wetlands of Frankia? Bjorn, you know nothing of this woman!"

"You're wrong," he placed a palm at the center of his chest, "I know exactly who she is, and I know exactly where she belongs."

"And what of Torvi? Is she content with this usurper stealing her way into your lives and making a home of your marriage?" Lagertha questioned.

Bjorn folded his arms, weary of the entire discussion. He wasn't Ragnar, Torvi wasn't Lagertha, and Bonnie wasn't, Hel take her, Aslaug. "Torvi embraces the idea of Bonnie joining us in matrimony."

His mother's eyes flared. She scoffed in disbelief. "You've been bewitched. This woman has bewitched you, just as Ragnar was so many years before you. What is it about Lothbrok men that breeds witches?"

"Mother, it may be best if you rest," Bjorn said, leveling her with a glare that would make steel fold, but more than likely meant less than horse shit to Lagertha. "The journey from Hedeby to Kattegat can be exhausting." With that said, Bjorn turned and left the great hall.

Once Bjorn disappeared from sight Lagertha looked to Astrid. "Take care of her."

Astrid nodded her understanding.

****

Unable to stay inside any longer, Bonnie decided to take a walk along the shore of the fjord. Though they were on the brink of winter, the beauty of Kattegat was heart snatching.

In her own time when she traveled, she never even considered visiting Norway. Now that she found herself stranded there surrounded by its people and exquisiteness, she couldn't understand why this place never made the bucket list.

As she continued along the bank a cloaked figure sitting on a large rock staring out at the sea caught her attention. Loneliness wafted off of him in dejected waves. When she'd binged the series with Caroline Ivar was never one of her favorite characters. He reminded her too much of Klaus. Always hurting and terrifying others to distract from the obvious detail that he too was also hurt and terrified. Back then she had zero compassion to give to bullies who thought to offer reason behind their madness. At least not until Damon became her best friend and she fell face first in love with Klaus. Now after seasons of judgement from her something within urged her to offer Ivar the consideration she never did when she watched the show.

Wrapping her cloak tighter around herself she made her way over to him. Once at his side, she joined him in staring out at the clear waters of the fjord. For a while, neither of them said anything. They just existed together in a shared moment of peace.

A several more comfortable minutes of silence, Ivar spoke without turning to look at her. "I'll wager you're pondering what a cripple could possibly be considering as he gazes at waters he can never be minded to tread."

"You're considering how far you'll go," Her words brought his disbelieving blazing stare to hers, "But you don't have to worry because you'll go far, Ivar. You'll go further than you can ever think to dream or imagine." She reached inside his cloak and interlaced her fingers with his. Laying her head on his shoulder, she turned back to the fjord.

He rested his head on top of hers, "Why'd you kiss me, hmm?"

"Because I wanted to and I knew you wanted me to," she answered reveling and drowning in him all at the same time. "You bother me, Ivar. The last time a man bothered me I fell in love with him."

"You mustn't do something as foolish as to offer me your heart, my love," He cradled her hand in both of his. "I may do something as equally foolish and accept it."

She lifted her head from his shoulder to study his face. What she saw there was the strike of lightening she'd waited twenty-seven years to see. How did one come back from Nirvana and settle for the lack-lusterless of reality? The mundane of good enough. Was he the reason? Far away yipping of a dog snatched her from the brink.

"I have to go," she whispered.

He studied her for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

She pressed her mouth to his and took a minute to savor his lips. He moaned into the kiss, reluctantly she pulled away. After she gave herself a second for her world to start spinning again, she slid from the rock and darted off toward the woods. Inside the forest, Ansel barked for her to follow him. So that's what she set out to do. After a half hour of nonstop running she could no longer see Ansel. Bonnie called out to him, but only silence answered her in return. She glanced about the overhang she stood on. Everything and nothing looked familiar. Hell, she didn't know north from south. She'd do better waiting for Ansel to return for her. She walked to the edge. A view of the fjord feeding water into her cove greeted her.

A grin teased her lips. Thoughts of her bathing the boys shamed her better judgement. She would have never pulled that shit back in Mystic Falls as a senior in high school. Hell not even as a senior citizen. With thoughts of the day before still trailing across her mind she backed away from the edge. Bjorn's sacred arm ring slipped from her wrist. When she was unable to locate it among the leaves she dropped to her knees and started sifting through the brush on the ground. As soon as her hand connected with hard metal she exhaled. She didn't know what she would tell Bjorn if she'd ever loss the symbol of their vow. Quickly, she slipped the sacred arm ring back on her wrist.

When she moved to rise something hard bashed her in the head. Fingers tangled themselves in her hair as blunted nails clawed at her scalp. With unnecessary force her head was jerked backwards. A cold jagged edge of steel bit into her neck and slid from ear to ear. The sound of howling dampened her hearing as her attacker drug her by her hair to the edge of the precipice. A well-aimed kick to the center of her back sent her tumbling over the edge. Her heart stopped long before the near freezing waters of the cove embraced her.

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Blood 2. 24.

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the water was calm, the wind strong, cold yet perfect under the sun, (Y/n) sits by the edge of the water, staring out into the open, her hands tense as she recalls all that has happened in the last months.

“i can’t help but be surprised you came back” torvi says, she and thora reeling from all (y/n) had told them. “its just that, you and ivar were so close”.

(y/n) frowns at this, her eyes cast to the ground as she stands at the shoreline, feeling the cold water hit her feet.

were. past tense, were close. it almost hurts for her to think such a way about ivar, to know that things between them would never be the same again after everything.

“are close” (Y/n) corrects her, and torvi’s brows cinch together in confusion.

“no matter what he’s said and done to me, it still feels as though we’re connected, like i haven’t even left him. he’s still in my mind, and it hurts like no other”.

thora places her hand on (y/n)’s shoulder, offering her a small smile, it eases her mind for a moment.

“i surely thought hvitserk would stay with ubbe and i, but he chose ivar in the end” (y/n) says, and torvi leans in.

“are you truly going to fight against them?”.

(y/n) thinks this over for a moment, her mind reeling with that possibility.

but ultimately, she made her decision the moment she placed her feet on that boat with ubbe.

“what choice do i have?, if i stay away from battle i am letting go of all of them, not protecting either of them, perhaps i can stall them, stop it before it ever has to happen”.

“you know that bjorn and ubbe will be relentless, as will ivar and hvitserk”.

“i know, thora, but i don’t know how to stop them without being involved”.

silence overcomes the women as they think over their own ways to help (y/n), but sadly, no such way could be found.

“a part of me wishes i would have taken my mothers advice and married young, i wouldn’t have to deal with them being so childish” she says with a humorless smile. 

the two look at (y/n) with sympathetic expressions, but there’s one more thing torvi feels she needs to ask.

“how are you feeling with lagertha around?”.

“disgusted” (y/n) mumbles, and both women feel shocked as a dark look overtakes her eyes.

“there is nothing i would love more than to be able to banish her from kattegat, from my home, she doesn’t deserve to rule kattegat, bjorn does, or ubbe. i feel so enraged with her sitting in the throne my mother sat in, the sooner i find a place to stay with ubbe the better”.

(y/n walks into the water, feeling torvi and thora standing with her, watching her with uncertainty.

“i wish i could go back to england” she says, and thora steps closer.

“to ivar and hviterk?”.

“no. just back to england. it is so beautiful, the breeze feels different, the sun shines different, brighter somehow, the grass, the trees, so green you feel as if you’re looking at a synthetic color. i loved it there, and yet i felt guilty, i was so happy to be there, this is my home, not england”.

“are you going to go back?, once everything is over?”.

(y/n) turns her head, looking over her shoulder at them, her own mind reeling with that question.

but her heart, her mind, and her soul belonged to scandinavia.

“no. i was born here, i shall reside here, i need ubbe right now, and i feel he needs me”.

(Y/n) stares back out towards the open water, and for a moment it feels as if her eyes deceive her.

she thinks she spots someone standing on the rocks ahead, long black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, a smile on his face as he beckons her towards him.

but when she blinks, he’s no longer there, rationally, she knew he couldn’t be here, she left him in england, hadn’t seen him since the day she saved him. 

“will you really fight aside lagertha against harald?”.

she sighs deeply.

“i will do what is right, he is not only threatening lagertha, but my country, i will protect kattegat until the day i die”.

“you will be protecting it for a very long time, (y/n)”.

she smiles softly at thora’s words, but shrugs.

“we never know when we will die, perhaps we may guess and go to a seer for a prophecy, but we never know, my death may be months from now, or years, we may never know”.

the three of them look up to the sky, watching as a raven flies lowly over them.

“we may never know”.

and as she watches the black bird fly off,  she’s left with herself and her only friends kattegat.

and that scares her, realizing how alone she and ubbe truly were.

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part Three

Okay y'all so here it is!! Part 3 of the Return series!!! Ivar and reader relationship developmentttttt💕 Hope you guys like itttt :) Lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged too. And don't kill meeeee pleaseee 😂

Part 1  Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 10

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Disclaimer: My sucky writing again. Bad grammar and spelling😂 Character death. And bad plot in general.

Your POV

Excitement. Thats all I could say I was feeling at the moment. To finally be back in Kattegat with my family was something I never thought would have happened again. After my father’s grand announcement of my return, the room overflowed with happiness. People were coming up to me, asking me where I had been for the past 6 years and how I had survived. Obviously, I tried to answer everyone’s questions to the best of my ability without giving too much information. For I still didn't know, the true reason as to why I had to leave or who wanted me gone.

The happiness in the hall however did not last very long. Aslaug, the woman who was questioning Bjorn earlier that night. Was actually my father’s wife. “Im sorry? She's your what now?!?!” Aslaug screams of sorrow over my existence could probably be heard all the way in Frankia. My father however, seemed to have very little interest in her reactions at all. He had cast her to the side as if she meant nothing to him. During the course of the next few hours neither my father nor Bjorn left my side. It was as if they thought something would occur to me if I was out of their side for more than a second. “Father, if it is alright with you I would like to go outside for some fresh air.” I tell him, whilst grasping his hand to truly catch his attention. Cupping my face he says “My sweet little girl, you may do anything you please. However, I would prefer that you do not stray too far from here, as I have just gotten you back. And I would not be able to handle losing you again.” With that he gives me a kiss on my forehead and sends me on my way. 

However, I can still feel the overbearing presence of my older brother. “Bjorn, you know Im not gonna run away, if thats what you're afraid of.” I tell him whilst stepping outside. “Im not afraid of you running away. Im afraid of something happening to you (y/n). Plus worrying about you is my job, always has been.” Leaning on one of the wooden beams, I cant help but to stare up at the sky and hold my cross between my fingers. Thinking to myself how different life would have been if I had not left. “ Im only a few steps away shout if anything happens. Okay?” “Okay! And Bjorn... I love you.” At that Bjorn kisses my forehead and walks back inside.

Unbeknownst to me, a certain dark haired man was lurking in the shadows. “Awwww, If I had a heart I would think that was probably the sweetest reunion Ive ever seen.” Turning to the sound of that familiar voice, I see Ivar leaning on his crutch making his way towards me. “I never thought that I would have a sister. And a Christian one at that.” The way that his eyes scan over my body makes me feel a certain way that I cannot quite describe. And the way that his features are outlined by the moonlight really gives a sense of how handsome he is. “Wait, are you implying that...” 

“Well, if all Christians are as slow as you I don't think we’ll have a problem conquering them.” A smirk is displayed on his face, while his eyes show a hint of deviance in them. “Why do you think that Bjorn and Ubbe look so much alike (y/n)?” “Or the fact that we all share similar traits like our eyes?” As Ivar continues to talk down to me as if I were a child, I start to connect the dots. Why it was that Bjorn and Ubbe look alike. The way that they all seem to share the same traits as my father. The four young men that Bjorn introduced me too, are actually my brothers. 

With wide eyes I come to the realization that...“You’re my brother.” “Took you long enough.” At that Ivar seems to crack what looks like a genuine smile. “You know, I always thought that I was the youngest, but now that I'm not...” The genuine smile I had probably imagined was now a devious one. “ Now, baby sister. Why don't you and I go and sit down by those steps down there. And you can tell big brother Ivar, what you've been up to all this time?” Without being able to answer, Ivar grabs my hands and takes me towards the steps. Why do I feel like this night is just getting started...

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

Ivar POV

Needless to say all of us were in shock to learn that (y/n) was our sister. Especially Hvitserk, who had not only been enchanted by her beauty, but was  already planning how he would take her from Bjorn. I however, knew something was up the minute I saw her in the great hall. She had no scars whatsoever on her body, meaning she wasn't a shield-maiden. And absolutely no callouses on her fingers from when she took the ale, meaning she definitely wasn't a thrall. And Bjorn wouldn't cheat on Torvi, unless he wants his balls cut off. Something intrigued me about her instantly. It was if she had been sent to me by the Gods, her sharp tongue reminded me of mine. The way that she stood up for my mother not even knowing that she had caused Lagertha and Ragnar to break up amazed me. The way she handled herself with grace and dignity was exactly what I wanted. No, what I need for in a wife.

“Ivar, are you okay? You've been staring at me for the past 5 mins without saying a word.” (y/n) places her hand on my knee to draw my attention whilst looking straight into my eyes. “As a matter of fact, Im trying to piece together, how we’re the same age, and we never met before you left.” As she goes to lift her hand from my knee, something instinctively goes over me and I grab her and hold it were it was. The initial shock she and I both had at my actions soon subsided. She let her hand rest under mine. As if we had done this countless times before, our fingers intertwined and they in my eyes fit perfectly. I could see the inner turmoil inside her, on whether these small affectionate moments between us were something that was so wrong, but that felt so right. 

It was not just moments ago that I had found out she was indeed my sister. Blood of my blood. But somehow, something in me told me that we were meant to be. I felt safe and strangely loved by this person in front of me, whom I have never met before. “You know Ivar, we lived on a farm. I was 100% certain that I would be a farm girl for the rest of my life. I was content with knowing that I would spend my life tending to the animals and my family. But, this is just too much.” Looking down at where our once intertwined hands were. I see that she is now staring at the ground playing with the ends of her long braided hair. “Why? Because you feel as if you're not good enough? Look at me for Odin’s sake! Im a cripple!” At that moment our eyes connected and I saw a reflection of myself in her. A scared child who was deprived of a normal childhood. Seeking for acceptance and love from anyone. 

“(Y/n), come inside father wishes to speak to you.” Bjorn says coming out from the great hall ale in hand. Clearly drunk as well. “Sure thing, I’ll be there in a second.” As she goes to stand up (y/n) turns to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for the pep talk, big brother.” 

I knew that I could not be the only one feeling this way. She had to have been feeling the same about me. And I will go to the ends of the world and face the God’s themselves if they think that for a second I will not make her mine. 

Your POV

What had I just done! I kissed him whether it be on the cheek or not. I kissed Ivar. My brother. Oh lord, forgive me for these sinful thoughts are consuming me. The intense feeling I got from us holding hands and from when he stared into my eyes. I had felt at home. Felt safe, felt something that I should only be feeling for the man I should marry. Not my brother! As I enter the great hall, all eyes turn on me. Remembering what I had just talked to Ivar about, I keep my head up. I shouldn't be ashamed, or feel as if I'm less than I am.

As I make my way to my father through the crowd once he spots me his eyes light up immediately. Sitting on his thrown he extends his hand and makes me sit on the throne beside his. “My beautiful daughter are you feeling alright now?” He says to me a little louder as if to make sure that people know not to mess with me. “Y..yes father Im feeling much better.” I murmur to him. At that moment my eyes trail off as if to find something that would take me out of this position right now. I have never been one to be the centre of attention. And as much as I wanna believe in myself that I can be a good princess to my people, at the moment that is not going to happen. As I scan the room my eyes land on Hvitserk. He’s eating a piece of chicken las if it were his last meal ever. I cannot help, but to laugh at him and that when he notices. He flashes a smile that could certainly melt any lady’s heart.  Without realizing I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and bit my lip. Biting my lip when Im nervous is something Ive always done.

However, what did not realize was Ivar eyeing me from behind him. At that I stop and stare at the ground. As the hours go by, finally the last person leaves the great hall. Leaving only my father and brothers with me. “Sooooo, where is (y/n) supposed to sleep, father?” Asks Ubbe. Coming from behind me Hvitserk puts his arm around my shoulders bringing me closer to his body. “She can sleep with me! I don't mind sharing my bed with her.” At this Ivar scoffs. “Of course you wouldn't, you wouldn’t mind sharing your bed with anything that has a pulse.” I tilt my head trying to figure out whatever he means by that. And all that can be heard is the snickering of my father. 

“I was thinking that perhaps I could sleep with Bjorn. You know since we used to share a room when we were little...” I say wishing that what I feel most comfortable with could be taken into account. “I don't know about that one baby sis, you'd have to ask Torvi. She defiantly doesn't like sharing thats for sure.” as Ivar says this he smirks at me while taking bite out of his apple. “Who’s Torvi?” “Wait! Bjorn didn't tell you? He's married.” 

At that moment a scream was heard throughout the town.

“Oh My God, Mira!!!!” at that moment I shot out of Hvitserk’s arms and ran as fast as I could. How could I have been so stupid that I left my friend by herself in an unknown place. Seeing the people gathered around Bjorn's cabin only made my heart more nervous. Pushing my way past the crowd I make it up the steps in one piece. But what I saw would forever haunt me. There on the floor lied my once best friend and most trusted subject Mira. And on her back was carved the death rune. All I remember is hitting the floor and watching a pair of worried and frantic electric blue eyes.

[imaginesmai]

Ubbe-Lagertha’s Daughter (3)

I’m just gonna say, this part is hard. I hope you don’t kill me after this. Also, thank you for all your kind comments and likes, love you!!

Plot: Ubbe has made a choice. But, is it the right one? Maybe he is not ready to face the consequences.

Warnings: HEAVY angst. Dark!Ivar. Rape.

Time passed by quickly, and soon everyone in Kattegat was getting used to having a new queen. Lagertha wanted to make Kattegat bigger, and she was achieving in by building big walls around it and developing even more the trading. You worked all day in the construction on the defences, but that didn’t help you to forget about Ubbe. Torvi was busy now that your half-brother was back, Astrid was always following Lagertha like a new couple in love, and the brothers were all chasing the new slave, Margarethe. You didn’t like her; she was lazy when it came to work, didn’t knew how to respect your mother and manipulated all the soldiers so she got everything she wanted. Even Ivar, who you had thought to be the smartest one, had laid with her not so long ago.

Morning came and with it started your daily routine. You got up, washed yourself, ate with your mother in the great hall and went to work under the sun. That day had been particularly sunny, so after a few hours you left the gate to drink something and rest under the shadow of a tree. You were admiring the summer colours when someone sat next to you.

-          It surprise me that you are still as small as you were when I left.

-          I wonder sometimes how Torvi stands you. You must be a beast in bed in order to cope with you all day. -you told Bjorn.

-          I am quite a catch, if you ask me. -you didn’t speak, so he continued. -I heard what happened with Aslaug.

-          Don’t want to talk about it. -you hugged your knees with your hands, putting your chin on them.

-          But I do. It was not your fault, stop beating yourself over him. If he doesn’t want you anymore, find yourself another man.

-          Bjorn, I just want him. -it was the first time you spoke to him about it. -He was going to marry me, and now I can’t see where I am going without him.

-          Then find yourself. He tried to kill you, and Ivar did to. My brothers will try it again, and I won’t be there always to stop it.

-          I just want an easy life, why is that so difficult? -you cried.

-          Lagertha is your mother, there is not easy life for us sister.

You hugged him before he left, and you followed him to the gate. Once you were there, you saw Ubbe walking towards you. Everyone stopped and Astrid put her hand in her sword, in case he tried anything. However, he didn’t talk to you, he walked to Margarethe and took her hands between his. The tears covered your eyes and a white sound filled your ears, but you heard it clearly; the prince had just freed Margarethe and was going to marry her. You didn’t register your mother’s voice saying that it wasn’t his right to free slaves, you just noticed your steps carrying you to somewhere else.

Your feet took you to the barn where you locked Ubbe, where everything started. That didn’t make any good to your breathing which was quick and not deep enough. Voices could be heard outside, probably your mother or Astrid looking for you; you moved yourself further into the barn, so they couldn’t find you. It seemed like hours passed and you couldn’t stop crying, with your hand in your chest and your body curled in a ball. Just then, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, and a rancid breath over your face.

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Ubbe had been busy planning the attack against the Saxons, but every now and then he found himself thinking about you. He missed you, but when he thought about going back to you the memory of his death mother came back to him. Deep inside he knew that it wasn’t your fault, that you were just trying to make things right between your mother and his. And Sigurd took care of reminding him that every day.

-          I saw her this morning. -Hvitserk said out of nowhere. -Told her about the things I saw in the Mediterranean and gave her some things I found. But she didn’t look at them, she just smiled and left.

-          Y/N shouldn’t even look your way, brother. -Ivar said, while playing with an old knife. -She is ashamed of what she did and deserves everything that comes her way.

-          When are you going to grow up, Ivar? -Sigurd asked angrily. -We have punished her enough not talking to her for a while, but we all know that’s over now.

-          I don’t blame her. -all of the brothers turned to look at Hvitserk. -What? It’s not like she cared a lot about us. I mean, Ubbe, she nearly let us drown in ice!

-          She is our mother. -Ubbe whispered.

-          You know nothing Hvitserk! She loved us!

-          Then why she only looked after you, Ivar? -Sigurd said without looking at him.

-          You are a disgrace for her memory! I will avenge her, you hear me? I will make Lagertha suffer and I will make Y/N regret being born.

The chair where Ubbe was sitting fell to the floor, and suddenly Ivar was pinned in the wall with Ubbe’s hand around his throat, while trying to breath. The oldest prince’s glare was murderous and he was lifting Ivar with just one hand.

-          Watch your words brother. -Sigurd and Hvitserk got up, ready to step if thing got ugly.

-          Now you act like the worried lover Ubbe? Don’t you remember that she locked you in a barn while she killed your mother.

-          I know it very well. -he said between his teeth. -But I think she has suffered enough, as Sigurd said.

-          If I didn’t know better, I would say you are growing weak again, uh? -Ubbe let him fall to the ground.

-          You better not lay a hand on her, brother.

-          Like you did? You are not some type of knight in shinny armour! You tried to kill her too, you just were too coward to finish her.

-          Shut up! -he shouted, surprising everyone including himself.

-          You are going to marry Margarethe, Ubbe. -Sigurd gave voice to everyone’s thoughts. -You might want to reconsider it.

-          Why? So that you can have her again Sigurd? I’m not an idiot, I know each one of you have fucked her.

-          Ubbe, we just want the best for you. -Hvitserk said. Being away from you was getting into his brother.

-          Y/N is not that. -Ivar said, with venom in his voice. – I don’t like Margarethe, but it’s better to marry a whore than a killer, isn’t it?

Ubbe left the cabin without looking back, hearing his brothers from behind him. He knew that his wedding with the slave was not out of love. Margarethe was a beautiful girl, but even if she was nicer to him than she was to anyone else, the prince noticed her sick desire of having power. Since Ivar came, he had been letting himself be dragged by the rage of his actions, and he had hidden himself in drinking. He heard then the sound of the horn, that meant that they were under attack. His first instinct was to look for you, but he knew that it wasn’t his place anymore. Ubbe ran towards the great hall, killing a few soldiers in his way. Lagertha was there, fighting some man herself. When she saw him, your mother ran towards him.

-          Where are your brothers?

-          In the cabin. -Ubbe blocked a sword with his shield and attacked back. -They should have heard the horn and might be fighting somewhere else.

-          We need them here. -Lagertha said while killing a woman behind him.

-          Are the slaves safe? -he didn’t want to ask that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to ask about you.

-          They let them in, Ubbe.

-          What? -he nearly got killed when he stopped to look at her, but Astrid saved his life.

-          Some slave let the soldiers in.

-          Who? -when Lagertha said nothing. -Did you not hear me woman? Who let them in?

-          Was Margarethe with you after your proposal? Because she wasn’t picking her things from the slave’s house.

-          You have some nerve talking like that about my future wife Lagertha.

-          She made me promise her that I wasn’t going to kill Aslaug. -she stopped for a moment, and around them the battle disappeared. – I’m not going to say that I am sorry because I’m not. Your mother took everything away from me. But she didn’t do anything, Ubbe.

-          You know nothing! -he shouted.

-          I was going to kill you! That was the original plan, to kill your mother and to kill you all. But she begged to me not to do it. For you, Ubbe.

-          She locked me-

-          You would have done the same to protect her. I was going to kill you, get that in your stupid head boy.

Lagertha kept fighting, but for Ubbe everything seemed to play in slow motion. Margarethe had betrayed him, sold him like a dog to the enemies. And you were just trying to protect him.

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The sound of the horn must had been lost between your sobs, so when that man pulled you with him it was too late for you. You didn’t recognize him from Kattegat. He was very big and tall and had a scar that ruined his face. His eyes were the scarier things you ever saw; they were green, and full of lust and desire for you.

-          I thought you said she was pretty. -the man’s rough voice said.

-          Well, she is. At least when she is not crying for my brother. -Ivar’s voice surprised you. He was sitting in a block of a straw, looking at you with fun in his eyes.

-          Ivar. -you pleaded. -Ivar, what’s going on?

-          You are pathetic Y/N. -he spat.

-          What?

-          My mother is dead because of you, Y/N. -he said the same way someone explain thing to a small child.

-          Ivar, please. -you weren’t sure what was going to happen. -I’m sorry…I begged my mother not-

-          I don’t care.

You were going to open your mouth again, but a disgusting rag was placed in it. The man in front of you moved his hands under your dress, and just then you realized that your hand were bound. Muffled screams were leaving your mouth while the man moved his hands up your tights, and soon they found your underwear.

-          Don’t look at me like that. -Ivar said with pretended sorry. – I wish I could help you, but I’m just an orphan crippled.

Tears were falling from your eyes again. The mysterious man had managed to get down your underwear, and you could feel his rough hand poking at your entrance. His fingers were replaced by his cock, making you feel like you were being cut in a half. You weren’t a virgin, Ubbe and you used to be very active in bed, but he always made sure to get you wet. The man had driven into you without care. The only thing that could be heard in the barn was the loud moans of the man, your low cries and the sound of both bodies moving. He started to kiss your neck, leaving painful hickies there. You thought it was over when you felt him spilling his seed in you, but you were wrong. A group of men appeared in the barn, untying their trousers and touching themselves while looking at you. In the corner of your eye, you saw Ivar moving until he was in front of you.

-          I loved her. -he had tears in his eyes. -You were my friend, Y/N, and it really pains me to do this. But it’s necessary. -Ivar took out a knife and broke your dress with it. -Ubbe might not see it yet. I do. You are just like a pig, you used my brother to get close to us. -he ran the knife between the valley of your breasts. – Maybe I should brand you, just like I do with the pigs that are going to be killed.

You tried to move, but he pressed the knife to your chest. Ubbe had told you about the Christian religion, how they believed in a god that died for them. They talked about something called hell, where bad people burned until dead. That night, you felt like you were in hell itself.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Broken promises (Ubbe x Reader)

A/N: I wrote half of this in a night train from Berlin to Vienna, so I’m sorry if this is worse than usual. I wanted to write for Ubbe so bad (my sweet wolf deserves more love) and at first this was going to be all fluff and love. Of course, this turned to be something else. Sorry, my brain works this way. I had always written Ivar things and he is a really complex character to write, so I didn’t really know how to write Ubbe. I don’t think this is a very good work but I want to post it because I literally spent too many hours writing it, I needed someone to read it. I had planned a second part, but that is if you like it, of course. I really hope you enjoy this at least a bit, and thank you so much for reading!♥️

Warnings: This was painful for me to write, and I probably wrote Ubbe really bad, so I’m sorry, I’ll work on it. Also, there are some mentions of sex, a broken heart and a bit of Ivar mocking you.

Words: 3050 I think I got a bit carried away, sorry about this

Part 2  

English its not my first language and I wrote this half asleep so please forgive me for any mistakes I had.

gif isn’t mine

The day started with a beautiful sun brighting in the sky. It was warm, at least as warm as Kattegat could be during the spring. For you, it was perfect. It was the best day ever. A few days before, your father gave to you your first sword. You always had dreamed of becoming a shieldmaiden and fight alongside the men, on the shield wall. You wished to be like Lagertha, being capable of protecting yourself, a strong and independent woman. And, after begging for years to your father, he finally asked the blacksmith to forge a new sword for you, thin but lethal. It was the most beautiful sword you had ever seen, and when you hold it for the first time it felt like it was another part of your body. And you were too eager to start learning you even asked your best friend to help you. Ubbe wasn't entirely happy with your decision of becoming a shieldmaiden. He thought it was too dangerous and was afraid you could get hurt. But nevertheless, he agreed to train you. He didn't trust his brothers near you and he knew you would find someone else who would help you. He preferred to be the one training you so he would be sure you were not harmed. Ubbe had been your best friend since both of you were children. You met each other when he defended you from some boys who were picking on you for playing with a wooden sword. After that, and although he was a bit older than you, you had been inseparable. And, since then, you saved his ass far more times than he saved yours. That day, you were supposed to meet at the training ground he had with his brothers, early in the morning. And you got there in time, but Ubbe didn't. You waited for him for hours, until the sun hide behind some dark clouds and the air started to get chilly. Soon, it started raining. Your thin clothes, perfect for training and suitable for the good weather that had been present half of the day got soaked, making you shiver. As you ran back to Kattegat, you started to get worried. Had something bad happened? Maybe Ivar had broke a bone, or he had another big fight with Sigurd and Ubbe had to intervene, maybe Hvitserk got in trouble again for sleeping with someone's wife or daughter and Ubbe was busy trying to save his neck. Maybe he had to help Björn with something, being the eldest son of Ragnar and Aslaug, he was often required in important meetings and had to assist his mother and half-brother. Ubbe couldn't forget about this, it was too important for me. You finally reached the Great Hall. Ivar was there, a knife in his hands while he crafted some tafl pieces, sitting on his father's throne. Somewhere, you could hear Sigurd's oud, but there was no sign of Ubbe. Ivar looked at you, raising a brow. "Are you looking for someone?" He asked without stopping his work. "Where's Ubbe?" "Oh" Ivar smiled a bit "He's in his chambers" he answered "But I wouldn't go there" You furrowed your brows. Was Ubbe sick? He had only gotten sick twice in his life, and the last time he swore he was dying although it was just a small fever. Both times, he didn't let anyone enter his chambers, except for the healer. "Why not?" You asked again, crossing your arms. You were starting to get really annoyed. Ivar rolled his eyes, as if he thought you were the most annoying person he had ever met. "He's busy" his blue eyes were brighting with malice. "Oh, is he helping Björn with something?" "Look, just go and see it for yourself" he told you, now done with your questions "And leave me alone, I have enough with Sigurd playing his stupid music" You rolled your eyes, used to Ivar's constant bad mood, and started walking towards Ubbe's chambers, grabbing a towel from a chair to try and dry your hair a bit. When you got close enough to his door, you started hearing some strange noises. Was that a grunt? Maybe he was actually sick and in pain. You didn't even bothered knocking, you never had to knock as Ubbe always knew it was you. And that was a mistake. "Ubbe? Ivar told me you were here, are you oka..." You couldn't finish the sentence because what you saw left you speechless. Yeah, Ubbe was on his chambers, and yeah, he was grunting, but he wasn't sick. He was in his bed with some blonde girl. Ubbe cursed out loud, and the girl screamed, trying to cover herself with the furs. "Y/N! Gods" he sighed "You really should learn how to knock" You were furious. He wasn't sick, he wasn't helping any of his brothers, he wasn't helping his mother. He stood you up because he was too busy fucking some girl. You clenched your jaw, trying not to cry but with some tears already gathering in the corners of your eyes. You wanted to yell at him, to punch him on his beautiful face until he bleed, to cry and to punish that girl for stealing your best friend. But you didn't do that. You throw the towel to him with all of your strength, and looked at him with rage. "You are a fucking idiot, Ubbe" And then you stepped out of the room, closing the door and walking straight to the exit. You needed some air. Ivar raised his head when he heard you passing by, and smiled wickedly. "I told you he was busy" "Fuck off, Ivar" you yelled, not bothering to look at him. You even heard his chuckle when you stepped out of the hall. It had stopped raining, some people were getting back to work although the ground was wet and muddy. You shivered, the air was chilly and your clothes and hair were still soaked. You walked down the street, trying to hide your sobs, until you reached an empty barn and entered it, needing some time alone. A fun fact about Kattegat: you never had time alone. When someone else entered the barn while you cried, sitting on the floor and hugging your knees against your chest, you almost yelled in frustration. "Y/N?" You stopped your sobs almost immediately, too surprised to hear Sigurd's voice. "Sigurd?" You dried your tears with your hand "What are you doing here?" "I heard some noise in Ubbe's chambers and then I heard Ivar mocking you, I imagined you caught Ubbe with Margrethe in bed and maybe you needed some comfort" he offered you a small smile, leaving you even more confused. You were best friends with Ubbe, and a really good friend to Hvitserk and Ivar tolerated you enough to let you stay in his presence for more than half an hour, but Sigurd never seemed too interested in you or in your friendship. You thought he didn't even like you. "I... Yeah, I caught him but..." You bit your lip, feeling betrayed and hurt "I am upset because he promised me he would help me learn how to fight, and we were supposed to meet this morning on the training ground, but he didn't come, and when I went looking for him he was there in bed with that girl" you practically sobbed the last sentence, hiding your face against your knees to prevent Sigurd from seeing you cry. "Oh" Sigurd furrowed his brow "That girl is Margrethe, she is a slave, Ubbe has been bedding her for a few weeks" So that's where he went when he disappeared for hours. You realized then it wasn't the first time Ubbe stood you up so he could fuck around with some slave. Something tightened in your chest, and you had to take a deep breath so you wouldn't start crying again. Sigurd got closer to you with a kind smile, sitting down next to you. "I thought you were like this because you were in love with Ubbe" You turned your head to look at him so fast you almost hurt your neck. "What? No!" Sigurd looked at you with an eyebrow raised. "I mean..." You sighed, closing your eyes and resting your back against the wall of the barn "I'm not in love with Ubbe, he's my friend and I'm annoyed that he ignored me and all of that" Sigurd seemed amused with your response. "Yeah, well, you are more than annoyed, Y/N, and everyone in Kattegat knows about your feelings for my brother, so don't try to deny it" You looked away. Were you in love with Ubbe? It was true that you loved his blue eyes, and his laugh was your favorite sound, and well, his smile could lighten up your day, and you longed to hear his husky and deep voice calling your name. Maybe you felt some things when he hugged you, and maybe you enjoyed it when he teased you about your height (as he was much taller than you and seemed to find very amusing those moments when you had to ask for help to reach some things). Maybe what you felt when you saw him with that slave had something to do with the fact that you could never look at other men and find them attractive enough. Maybe you were in love with him. "Even if I was in love with him" you replied, blushing furiously "It wouldn't matter, Sigurd, he's a prince, a son of Ragnar, and I'm the daughter of a trader, he will marry a princess or the daughter of some Earl and I will have to marry whoever my father seems fit, or, if I am lucky enough, I might become a shieldmaiden and fight on the shield wall". Sigurd seemed surprised by your answer, as if he was expecting you to deny your feelings and keep crying. "I'll tell you a secret" he rested his back against the wooden wall of the barn "I'm a son of Ragnar, too, a prince like my older brother, am I not?" He looked at your eyes "Well, I'm in love with a slave" You looked at him in disbelief. What happened with the slaves in Kattegat that seemed to be irresistible for the sons of Ragnar?. "That slave is the same one who was in Ubbe's room, Margrethe" he explained "I'm in love with her since I slept with her for the first time, and she's a slave... What I am trying to say, Y/N, is that you're very important for Ubbe, and no one cares if you're not a princess or if your father does not own any lands" You still couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Sigurd, I can't just go and tell my best friend that I'm in love with him, even if he does not care about my social status!" There it was, you said it out loud and somehow that made it even more real. You were in love with Ubbe. Sigurd just smiled at you. "I'm just saying that you don't have any excuses, if you want to tell him, do it; Ubbe it's not Ivar, he won't mock you, and maybe he feels the same". Then he stood up and left the barn, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When you went back home it was dark already, the sun had disappeared and the full moon was almost completely hidden by some clouds. Luckily, your house was near the Great Hall and the barn where you had been hidden for hours, thinking about your recently discovered feelings for Ubbe. But the last thing you expected when you opened the door was to find Ubbe sitting next to your father and drinking some mead with him. Your father loved Ubbe, not only because he was your best friend and the prince, but because he was the only one of the brothers that, in your father's opinion, could be trusted near a young woman. If only he knew. When you entered the house, Ubbe stood up from his chair, looking at you. "Y/N, prince Ubbe was looking for you, where were you?" Your father narrowed his eyes, and you were sure you'd have to later listen to him  talking about how it was not polite to make a prince wait. "Sorry, I was... Busy" you bit your lip, blushing when you noticed Ubbe staring at you "Do you need anything, my prince?" You might just realized you were in love with him, but that didn't change the fact that he stood you up. "I wanted to talk to you, Y/N" his voice making you shiver "Alone" You opened the door, walking out of your house again and waiting for him to join you in your way to the beach. Neither of you said a word until you got near the water and you sat down on the cold sand, still not looking at him. "I... I really don't understand why you are so angry at me" he said, breaking the silence "I was just... Having fun" "Really, Ubbe?" You glared at him, annoyed at his words "Well, while you were having fun, I was all alone on the training ground, waiting for you to come and help me with my training, as you promised" The darkness around you hid it, but Ubbe's face went pale when he remembered the promise he made to you a few days ago, when you father give you your first sword. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Y/N" he covered his face with his large hands "I didn't remember, I..." "You forgot, you forgot about me and preferred to spend the day in bed with some slave, and yet you say you don't know why I am so angry" you were trying not to cry so hard you even had to bit your tongue "It was really important for me, Ubbe" "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I truly am, forgive me, I will help you train everyday, but please forgive me, I will tell Hvitserk, and we will train you until you become the most famous shieldmaiden ever" he sat down next to you "I promise" You looked at him, your eyes full of tears. "You already promised me something, Ubbe" you looked away, incapable of looking him straight on his eyes. "I'm sorry" he muttered, biting his lip. You could see in his eyes he really meant it. "Do you love her?" You asked, your voice broken and some tears rolling down you cheeks. Ubbe's heart sank when he heard you, he couldn't stand seeing you cry. "Who?" "That slave, Margrethe" He seemed confused by your question. Did that even matter? Why did you bring up Margrethe? It was true she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and maybe he had thought about freeing her and marrying her, but with his father's return and Hvitserk's upcoming journey to the Mediterranean with Björn he had been too busy to think more about it. "I don't know, I like her" he shrugged, still not knowing why you were interested in that "She's beautiful, I enjoy her company" "Yeah, of course you do" you rolled your eyes. "What is the matter? I get it, you're angry at me because I forgot our plans, but why are you now talking about Margrethe?" "Because I..." You growled in frustration. How could you explain to him that the fact that he preferred to spend his time with another woman hurt you without telling him you were in love with him? "I already apologized, Y/N, I won't forgot about you anymore, I'm sorry" "It's not that, Ubbe!" You yelled, annoyed at yourself for being so stupid and falling for your best friend "I forgive you okay? We can train another day, it doesn't matter" He was silent for a few moments, not knowing what to say. "Then what happens, Y/N? What is the matter?" You closed your eyes. You had to do something. You never had any secrets with Ubbe, you always told him everything. And you couldn't keep this to yourself. Before he could insist and ask you again, you turned around to face him. Ubbe looked at you with his big, blue eyes that made you weak at the knees, surprised. And, before he could open his mouth to speak, you leaned in and kissed him. You had to support yourself on his broad shoulders, pressing your lips against his and closing your eyes, afraid of his reaction. The kiss was short, his hands went to your waist with surprise, but he didn't close his eyes. When you broke the kiss, the tears were falling down your cheeks, and you got away from him, angry at yourself and hurt. Angry because you didn't think before acting and kissed him following your instincts, and hurt because he didn't kiss you back. Your hand went to your mouth. You couldn't believe you just ruined your friendship. Ubbe was speechless. He stared at you with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "I'm sorry" you muttered, biting your lip "I..." "Y/N" He shook his head "I don't... You are like my little sister"  he closed his eyes "I can't do this, I'm sorry" And then he left, leaving you alone, crying and cursing yourself for being so stupid. Ubbe walked to the Great Hall, clenching his jaw and with his heart broken. Leaving you there crying hurt him more than he would have ever imagined, but he couldn't look at your eyes and tell you he didn't feel the same. Oh, he felt like an idiot. And he hated himself for hurting you. But you were his best friend, his sister, you were the most amazing human being he had ever met. He couldn't kiss you back, pretend he wanted you that way and then forget about it in the morning. No, you didn't deserve that. His eyes caught a blonde woman working near the Great Hall. Margrethe was still finishing up her work for the day, but Ubbe needed an immediate distraction.

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirll @tephi101 @naaladareia @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee

If I missed you please, let me know!💖

[fishylife]

FINALLY finished Season 4 of Vikings

- I sort of thought I was going to be done with this series but just when they do they introduce a new villain and now I’m intrigued again goddammit.

- I was kind of sad to see Sigurd die. He was sort of alone in this world.

- Ivar looked regretful for maybe about 5 seconds but after that I think he’s starting to see that he can be ruthless and he’s going to use that aggression and bloodlust to propel himself to be a merciless warlord.

- Interesting to see that Halfdan and Harald are somewhat split. Harald was a little surprised when Halfdan said he wanted to follow Bjorn to see the Mediterranean. 

- I just watched some promo videos for Season 5 and have more questions now.

- I wonder what role Jonathan Rhys Meyers’ character will play. He is a bishop and not a member of royalty, but I can only assume that he’s going to gain power and challenge Aethelwulf or the Vikings.

- I sure hope there’s an overload of political thriller for the civil war that’s going to happen between Ivar + Hvitserk and Ubbe + Lagertha. Also Hvitserk has always seemed to be with Ubbe so I wonder how Ivar will convince Hvitserk to join him.

- I wonder where Floki ends up after his long boat ride. Also, now that he has no familiar connection left (no Ragnar, no Helga), his character is free to start a totally different type of story with no connection to the rest of the Vikings. 

- I can only assume they killed of Torvi so that Bjorn could go to the Mediterranean without having to constantly worry about his family. Also, in the episode where the Vikings went raiding and captured a bunch of girls from a harem and Bjorn had an eye for one of them? I am 95% sure she’s going to come back.

- I never would have thought that Tanaruz was actually only scared of Helga. She was totally fine with Floki but she just couldn’t handle Helga being overbearing. That being said, killing Helga and then herself seemed kind of overkill. 

- I never expected Harald to ever see the woman he loved ever again. I guess Harald took her promise as basically an oath and since she married, he took that as a breaking of an important oath (that has basically shaped his entire life now). That being said, he still loved her so he wasn’t going to kill her, even though it would have been the “right” thing to do (in loose terms). Instead, Harald just feels anger and jealousy against the husband and takes it out against him. And in return, Ellisif is extremely angry (maybe she really was in love with Vik) and tries to exact revenge. Except Halfdan, who always has thought with a clear mind, anticipates that it’s a trap and kills her in order to save his brother. A simple storyline, but I guess it puts some dimension to Halfdan and Harald, who before had only been portrayed as comrades to Kattegat, or scheming traitors. 

- What I’m expecting next season will probably be a few separate storylines:

1) Civil war in Kattegat between Ubbe + Lagertha and Ivar + Hvitserk

2) War in Saxony between Aethelwulf and Bishop Heahmund

3) Bjorn + Halfdan sail to the Mediterranean

4) Floki’s sailing aimlessly which will probably lead him on a philosophical journey somewhere.

- I’m not sure which story Harald will fall under, but it will likely be story #1 or a separate story #5. Lagertha will make Harald pay for his treachery.

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today XXVIII

A/N: This is actually the first chapter I've had *true* writer's block for, interestingly enough. Hoping Wednesday's update goes better, but I'm pretty sure it will. Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

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It was the sound of laughter and giggling which woke Asta. She had fallen asleep with Ivar, as always, but a knock at the door had woken them both. The intruder had been Ganbaatar, Oleg’s right hand, coming to tell Ivar Oleg was asking for him. Asta hated those times, when Oleg summoned only Ivar, and left her without him.

Not that Asta couldn’t stand to be away from Ivar, but what she really couldn’t stand was this feeling that Oleg wanted them separated. He was always pulling Ivar away, leaving her out of their talks, even though Ivar filled her in when he returned. And it wasn’t for lack of trying to get her included on Ivar’s part. He told Oleg that he and his ‘wife’ were a team, that they discussed everything together, but that didn’t mean Oleg budged.

The truth was, he knew Asta saw through him. He couldn’t tell to what extent, but he knew he was no true prophet, and he knew there was not enough information he had about her to say she wasn’t. There was too much mystery surrounding her, too many things he was unsure about with her, and he didn’t trust what he couldn’t know. Often, in trying to get Ivar alone, he hoped to learn more about her nature. Not that Ivar budged on information Asta herself had not given. They talked, it was obvious, and he knew what she was comfortable with him sharing.

Thus, he had attempted to loosen Ivar’s lips with alcohol, with talk of their invasion of Scandinavia, and questioning if Asta would be able to assist them through her visions. Unfortunately, Ivar was vague about that. The gods will reveal to her only what they wish to reveal, he had said. She does not ask from them, but accepts what they offer.

Well, that had been no help to Oleg in the slightest. Ivar and Asta were both- though still, her more than him- far from open books. Even as he shared with Ivar that they needed to capture Dir, even as they laughed about his brother’s cowardice, at his weakness, together, he wondered if they were playing some other game, and if he were going to be a piece in it.

Who could say?

In the end, Ivar had returned to his chambers that he shared with Asta a bit drunk, and so his drunken giggles were what woke her, echoing through the halls and coming through the door. She sat up slowly, her eyes blinking as if she were in a daze, as the door opened.

“Asta!” he greeted happily. “Asta, Asta, Asta, Asta…” He said her name again, drawing the vowel sounds out as if they amused him.

“Ivar,” she replied, smiling softly and running a hand through her hair. “Your meeting with Oleg went well?”

He giggled, and tossed his crutch somewhere once he got to the bed, letting himself flop down onto his stomach. “It went horribly,” he said, and then turned his face up toward her. “But also very well.”

“How could it have done both?” Asta asked. She reached down now to let her fingers slide through his hair. With a hum, Ivar scooted closer so he could lay his head on her lap.

“Because he continues to ask about you,” he said. “He wants you to have visions, but you don’t just have visions.” Ivar looked up at her thoughtfully, almost confusedly. “Or perhaps you have. I have often thought you only came with me because you saw you were supposed to.” His hand lifted and tapped the side of her head.

Asta chuckled softly, and took his hand between her hands. “I didn’t follow you because of any visions I may have had. I followed you because I wanted to,” she corrected him. He gave something of a cross between a scoff and a snort.

“Why would you want to do a stupid thing like that?” he questioned. “I would not have followed me.”

“Hmm, well, then it’s a good thing I’m not you,” she answered. He giggled.

“A good thing indeed, because I am happy you’re here.”

Asta smiled softly, and leaned down to kiss your head. “I’m happy I’m here, too,” she told him. “And you are very drunk, and we need to get you to bed. Hm?”

Ivar whined and tried to bury his face in her stomach. “But I enjoy speaking with you,” he said. “If I sleep now, who knows what wonderful conversations I will miss out on?”

“We’ll talk until you fall asleep, how’s that?” she offered, and he looked up at her as if he were in awe.

“You will come to bed with me?” he asked.

“I do every night,” she said, laughing softly herself. “Have since we left Kattegat, almost.”

Ivar seemed to be considering something, and then he finally said, “Then I was not lying when I told Oleg you were my wife, apparently.” He paused, now confused. “How could I have forgotten getting married?”

Asta giggled and shook her head. “You haven’t forgotten anything, sweet Ivar,” she assured him, as he had seemed to be growing a bit distressed at the thought of forgetting his wedding. “We just sleep better together.”

Ivar hummed then, and nodded, starting to slowly relax against her. “That makes sense,” he mumbled. He wasn’t going to stay awake for long, Asta could see, so she quickly moved to get his leg braces off. Once that was done, she got him to crawl up into the bed with her, and pulled him close.

“Now, talk,” she teased him. He mumbled something, and then was lost to sleep, just as she had predicted. Asta smiled, rested her head against his, and allowed herself to succumb as well.

Ivar, understandably, felt nowhere near his best the next morning. But Asta had stayed with him until the afternoon, when he was feeling better, and she’d chosen not to make him aware of the rather embarrassing details of the night before. He hadn’t needed to know exactly how he’d revealed some of his inner thoughts to her. Knowing him, he’d likely only grow irritable in his embarrassment.

That didn’t mean he didn’t recall his conversation with Oleg, however, and so in one of the more quiet moments of the afternoon, he brought it up.

“Oleg wants to capture Dir,” he told her, and she turned to look at him curiously, her hand not stilling in his hand for a moment. “He will not move forward with the invasion until he has done this.”

“No?” Asta questioned, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?”

“He does not believe Dir can be trusted,” Ivar answered.

Asta chuckled softly and said, “We’re counting on it,” which earned a chuckle from Ivar. “Still, he won’t be any good to us captured. Oleg has already killed one of his brothers. What’s to say he won’t kill another?”

Ivar swallowed, and sighed. “One might hope he regrets killing his brother, and would not wish to kill another,” he said. Asta gave a tight-lipped smile.

“I doubt he’s as good a man as you are,” she said. He let out a halfhearted, breathy chuckle.

There were a few moments of silence while Ivar tried to decide how to answer her, but eventually gave up. When it became clear he was no longer intending to answer, she continued, “If Dir’s dead, there’s nothing he can help us with. We need him alive, and preferably, free.”

“If it comes to it,” Ivar said, “we will have a plan to rescue Dir. Until then, we will try to keep Oleg from succeeding in this capture.”

Asta hummed, nodding. “He seems to trust you,” she commented. “If you continue to work with him, you may be able to convince him to leave Dir alone, convince him he isn’t worth the effort. That would leave us in a much better position.”

“It would,” Ivar agreed. “And Igor trusts you. We should work both sides with Prince Dir. We will let Dir in, and Dir will defeat Oleg. Then, we will defeat Dir, and be the heroes who saved the young Prince.”

She chuckled softly. “And Rus will be ours?”

“Mm, it will be Igor’s,” Ivar said. “But I think that is not so different from being ours.”

A small smile lit Asta’s face. After a moment, she teased, “I think you may be a bad influence on me.”

This brought a full laugh from Ivar, who recognized easily how different she was now from the Princess he first met in Wessex. That girl was still in there, he saw her in many moments when the two of them were alone, and yet he also saw a more dangerous, cunning side to her as well. As they sat and plotted against Oleg, it occurred to Ivar just how blessed he was that she was on his side.

Though, he often though about the letter she had received from Björn, the warning that Kattegat was going to be attacked. His brother had cared for her enough to warn her himself. Had Hvitserk sent the warning, he wouldn’t have questioned it, but it had been sent by Björn.

Sometimes, he questioned if she may have been on their side at once, and had turned on them in his favor. If not for whatever it was between them, the thing that existed without acknowledgement between them, he could wonder if she wasn’t still on their side, keeping him busy away from Kattegat.

In truth, there was nothing but his faith in her to say she wasn’t doing this. That, and the fact that he wasn’t sure he could take another betrayal, and not from her, not from another woman he had come to love. Surely, that just would have been cruel. The gods couldn’t have intended that for him in sending her with him. Surely, the woman he was currently watching roll her shoulder back, roll her shoulder forward, testing it after the injury she had sustained defending him, had no intentions of betraying him.

Surely he was able to trust at least one person in this world.

Perhaps, if he could know her mind and her heart, he would be able to relax fully. Because, as the truth would have it, she had never once wavered since that day she gave her loyalty to Ivar. She had given it to him freely, unsure if she had made the right decision then, but now fully certain of her choice.

The death of Freydis had truly broken her heart. But, the Queen’s betrayal had broken her heart all the same. Though she wouldn’t have had it in herself to kill her, it had still devastated her. The entirety of the situation had been tragic. Both sides of the conflict, she understood- the revenge of a broken mother, the twisted mercy of a betrayed husband. Then there was her, caught between the two, devastated by the actions of each.

How could she possibly stand to lose Ivar, after essentially losing everyone else she has ever loved? Yes, Alfred lived, but she couldn’t help but doubt if she would ever see him again. Hvitserk left Ivar, and all the other Vikings she had cared for were with Björn. Ivar was the only person she had left, the only one left that she loved.  Her love for those she had lost hadn’t lessened, but how can one show love to the ones so far away, who they can’t even reach out to? How could she show those she had left in Kattegat, or in Wessex, that she still loved them, even from such a distance?

There was no way, and so she would defend Ivar with her life, or with her death. Her heart was his.

Nothing came of their concerns about Dir for many days, and when something finally did come of it, it was while they were caring for Igor. They’d been teaching him some of Ivar’s language, and in return, Igor had been teaching them some of his own. It wouldn’t be long before they were able to communicate more freely.

Asta giggled a little as she watched Igor drag himself over to one of the Rus puppets he kept, the one of a King, which he held up and called, “Oleg.”

Ivar had also been amused until that point, at which point they shared a look between themselves. They had no way of explaining to Igor just yet that Oleg was not the King, and that Igor himself would one day be. Not that they were given time, as there was a commotion outside, and Igor jumped up to run and see what it was.

They followed him out, down to the market there in Kiev, where they saw that someone had just been put in a cage. Clearly, Igor wanted to see who it was, and so the covering over the cage was pulled back, and someone turned to look at the young Prince.

Even with the bruising on his face, the ring in his lip which was chained to the cage, Asta and Ivar recognized him immediately. They were out of time to talk Oleg out of capturing Prince Dir, as he now sat before them, entirely at Oleg’s mercy.

Time was running out.

When Igor began to bark at Dir, almost mocking him, a deep concern rooted in Asta. Their purpose in coming to Kiev was becoming clear to her, especially as Ivar leaned over to whisper to her, “This is Oleg’s influence. He called him a dog.” The fact Igor was barking, after the comment Oleg had made to Ivar, couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Oleg was going to twist Igor into a cruel boy, and rule Kiev and Rus through him. This was no longer about securing her own place their, along with Ivar’s. This was about saving Rus from the rule of a man who would abuse his people.

There had been a quick decision to get Igor back to his room, to leave him to his studies, and then to return to their own room to make their own plans.

And now, Ivar sat on the bed, his braces already abandoned to the side, as he watched Asta pace back and forth. She was stressed, and rightfully so. Oleg moved far quickly than they had expected him to, they were both realizing.

“I know I said I would prefer Dir be in Kiev, but I meant free,” she said sharply. “He can’t do anything being kept in a cage like a rabid dog! We can’t do anything if he’s being held here!”

Ivar chuckled softly. Clearly, this was the first of any plan she’d been involved with to go wrong. She was going to have to learn to adapt, if she was to continue behaving as though she was a Prophet, or even if she could ever be considered to be a well-prepared Shieldmaiden.

“Asta,” he said. “Our plans from here are easy, they only need to be made. But we need to release Prince Dir. Can you not see that?”

She huffed. “Of course I can see that,” she said. “But then he is gone from Kiev, and it becomes more difficult to work with him. I wanted him here, not in Novgorod. That was the purpose of getting close to Oleg.”

“You once said if Dir was captured, then it would be better because he would be in Kiev, but you realized the problem with that, didn’t you? He cannot be useful in captivity, especially not when he could die there. But, you have overlooked a way that this will be to our benefit, my dear.”

When Asta turned to him with an exasperated, confused expression, Ivar patted the bed to his side, silently asking her to come and sit beside him. She easily did as requested of her. “We will free him, and he will see our goodwill and desire to fight for him, and for Prince Igor,” he finished explaining. “All that is left, is to figure out how to free Prince Dir. We can solidify an alliance with him once that is done.”

Asta nodded slowly, her brows drawing in as she began to think over this new plan. “He isn’t well,” she said. “We need to be sure he can be received as soon as he’s freed, especially since we can’t deliver him to Novgorod ourselves, and he’s in no condition to make the journey alone. His people need to be here to take him as soon as he’s out.”

“I agree,” Ivar said. “But in order to contact them, Oleg will need to be distracted.” She nodded as he paused, waiting for him to continue. “I will do that. I will keep him from noticing that you are corresponding with someone, and you will be in contact with Dir’s family in Novgorod. Our plan should be made with them, as they will be instrumental in its completion. Hm?”

Asta hummed her agreement.

“Good,” he said. “Then we will begin this process as quickly as possible. And with any luck, and with the favor of the gods, Dir will not die before we can release him to his family, and gain powerful allies in Novgorod.”

Not a day had passed before Asta’s first message was being carried to Novgorod, taken by a soldier who had lied, sworn to Oleg that he had given the Prince Regent his loyalty, yet still remained loyal to Prince Dir, and even more importantly, to Prince Igor.

The true heir had more friends than he knew there in Rus, more than just Asta and Ivar, and the two were more than happy to be helping him reclaim his Kingdom. He didn’t know it just yet, but if he had known all that was going on, and could speak to his new Viking companions, he would have been well grateful.

After all, it was just as Ivar and Asta had learned for themselves in Kattegat- once one had a taste of power, it was not something they wanted to give up. Igor himself hadn’t yet had this taste, but Oleg had, and if they weren’t quick, he would become drunk on it, and the Kingdom of Rus would be lost.

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[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today VI

A/N:  This is another longer chapter, but one I've been really excited to share since I wrote it a couple days ago! Strangely enough, it's beginning to seem that writer's block leads to very long chapters... But! I’m also excited to have made my first Saturday night update. Until Wednesday then, I hope you enjoy! Skål!

Summary:  When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

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A few days passed once the feast ended, and the Vikings had all gathered in one of the large rooms of the castle, one which was often held for war meetings. Aethelind and Alfred had met them there, and they all now sat around a large table. Alfred, as King, sat at the head, with Aethelind at his right. Beside her was Björn, then Lagertha to his left, Heahmund to her left, then Torvi, and finally Ubbe at Alfred’s left. In the middle of the table, was a map of Kattegat, provided by the Vikings theirselves.

“So,” Alfred said, officially beginning the meeting. “What… How much of a plan have we actually got?”

The group looked between theirselves, trying to decide who should speak first. Eventually, Aethelind began. “Ivar the Boneless has taken Kattegat,” she said, drawing all attention to herself. “We need to take it back. So… how do we do that?” She took a deep breath. "As you all likely know by now, I don’t wish to see brothers fight for a throne. We need a way to take Kattegat without causing a war, if it can be done. This is… where my plan comes in.

“It is my belief, after all I have heard about Ivar, that he can, in fact, be reasoned with. This is why I wish to go to Kattegat, and try to do so. I am aware he is very unpredictable, as has been told to me by… many of you.” She looked to the Vikings, and also Bishop Heahmund. “The predicted response was that Ivar would have me killed, whether on my arrival or later, or that he wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say on this topic. But, if he is as unpredictable as I’ve heard, then it stands to reason this is not the response Ivar will have. The only thing is, I can’t go and just… tell him to hand the throne to Björn, or Lagertha, or… really, anyone. I can’t tell him to give the throne up, and expect him to listen then. I have to gain his trust before I bring something of this nature up to him. So, we need a way to excuse my presence in Kattegat so I can work on this.”

“Which, I have come up with."

Aethelind lost the attention as Alfred picked up from the unintended cue, and her brows lifted a bit. “Have you?” she questioned. She hadn’t even though he would agree to send her, truthfully.

“I have,” he confirmed. “We are going to send you to Kattegat in order to establish a good relationship with King Ivar, and his people.” Aethelind looked at him with lifted brows, wondering if he had anything in addition to that. “I am sending you there to improve relations between our kingdoms, and to negotiate on his land for peace between our people. This will give you the ability to write to me without raising suspicion, and keep you meeting with him, if you can drag it out.”

“I can do that,” Aethelind said, nodding. “I’ll be sure negotiations don’t go quickly. Difficult enough that it’s not easy to come to a perfect agreement, but easy enough that he wants to keep trying, hm?”

Björn groaned.

“If this works, it will be a good plan,” he said. "If it does not, then it will be a bad plan." Aethelind narrowed her eyes at him, her brows creasing a bit as her mouth hung slightly open.

For a moment, it seemed she struggled to come up with what to say, her lips forming words, without giving voice to them. Alfred recognized this as confusion in his sister, though until she actually spoke, he would have no way of knowing what had confused her.

He didn't have to wait for long. “Any plan that works is a good plan, and... any plan that doesn't... is.. a bad plan?” she pointed out, and Ubbe chuckled.

“What my brother means to say, is he agrees,” he told her. “This will keep you close to Ivar, and if you can find a way to get closer to him, then he may even begin to take your advice on things. When that happens…”

“You will tell us, and we will come,” Torvi said. “When you believe he would be open to peace, most open, we will come, and prepare to fight for Kattegat. That is when you will put to him the suggestion to negotiate with us for peace. If you have gotten close enough… You may even be able to convince him based off the effect it would have on you, to see him go to war with his brothers.”

Aethelind nodded. So far, each addition to what she had planned was a good addition, one that would work well in her opinion. “Then we have a plan to bring him around,” she said. “How we negotiate him to peace, that will be up to you all. Once I am there, he will need to believe I’m firmly on his side, even once the peace talks begin. I will advocate for you as best I can, but if he for a moment suspects anything…”

This time, it was Lagertha who interrupted. “You stand chance of being attacked,” she said. “This is why, regardless of official reason to be sent to Kattegat, you must know how to defend yourself properly. Torvi and I, and Bishop Heahmund, have already agreed to train you. But I think-”

“I will also assist in her training,” Ubbe cut in, and Aethelind’s eyes widened as she turned to him. “You will need all the help you can get, to go from Princess to Shieldmaiden.”

"That is good, but she may be attacked at any given moment,” Björn pointed out. “I do not yet feel convinced this is a wise decision. If we send her, and something happens to her, how many of you will feel glad we did it, instead of going to war, when she is sacrificed and we go to war anyway? Hm?”

“Björn…” Aethelind said, turning to him. He looked down at her, determination clear in his eyes. “I will go. Everyone here is prepared to prepare me, so I have the best chance at success on this mission. And I want to go. With or without this help, I’m going to try. If your conscience will not be clean, should you agree to send me, then vote against this. But I believe you would feel better sending me, knowing you have assisted in my preparation, than taking no part in this, and simply hoping for the best results. And if I am sacrificed in the pursuit of peace, would you not rather know you did all you could to give me better odds of survival, than realizing you had decided to have no part in it, and with your assistance, it may have made enough of a difference that things would have gone another way?”

His eyes turned back to the table, unwilling to meet hers.

“You know I will go with or without your support of this. A unanimous decision is not required, and so neither is your permission.” She put her hand on his arm, and he looked back to her once more. “But I would like to have your support, and your assistance. Please, Björn. Let this victory be another in your legacy.”

Björn didn’t stop watching Aethelind, looking into her eyes that pleaded with him to agree, as he considered what she had asked of him. Everything she had said about his struggle, the decision he was having to make, was accurate. She was wise, far more wise than he would have expected upon their first meeting. Her mind would be an excellent asset, assuming all went according to plan, and her heart in this, her desperation for peace, was going to drive not to stop until she was satisfied she'd done all she could. There was no doubt in his mind that, were there no threat of physical harm to her, she would be able to do this. Her charisma and charm was natural, and she'd already had a connection with Ivar in the past. She would easily slide back into his good graces, and she would become his advisor, maybe even his wife, if the desire struck him and she agreed. Either way, if Ivar wasn’t married by the time she arrived- and who was to say? Björn certainly wouldn’t know if he had married- she would easily become the most powerful woman in Kattegat, perhaps the most powerful person in Kattegat.

After all, he knew well that being King was one thing, but it was truly the person who influenced the King, who was his most trusted council, who had the most power.

And Aethelind… Ivar was fond enough of her to speak of her when he returned from England, even in the wake of their father’s death, and of his mother’s. If Björn felt she would be safe, then he would have absolute confidence that the rest of the mission would be a success. So, the question remained:

Would he ensure her safety, or content himself with her going to Kattegat, unsure that she will be safe?

“I want another vote when it is time,” Björn said. “I will assist in your training as well, and when the time comes to send you, we must all agree that you are ready. That vote must be unanimous, or we will wait. I am a patient man, I will see that you are properly trained before you go to Kattegat.”

The way she lit up was almost worth the risk itself.

“Thank you, Björn!” she near exclaimed, and Alfred, watching this interaction, was stunned that she didn’t simply embrace the Viking there. Were this not such an important meeting, he thought she might have, so powerful was her joy at this outcome. “You will be glad you agreed, I promise you.”

“I hope I am, and I hope you prove yourself right, Princess,” he told her, and she chuckled.

“I have told you, you can call me Aethelind. The formalities are not necessary,” she protested. Now, it was his turn to chuckle.

“Who said it is a formality?”

Everyone’s eyes but his widened, though it was only her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, and then she smiled.

“Oh,” she managed, before letting out a slightly… stunned, really, as that was the only way it could be accurately described, laugh. “Your meaning is understood.”

Lagertha watched this with a knowing smile, her lips pressed tightly together, as her eyes met Alfred’s across the table. Ubbe and Torvi shared a knowing look, and the former leaned over to whisper to his wife, “I would not be surprised if a marriage was part of his terms to agree to send her, when the time comes.” The way Torvi lifted her brows and nodded toward Ubbe revealed she thought the same.

“Then are we all agreed?” Alfred said, clearing his throat a bit and hoping to bring the conversation back to the topic at hand. Lagertha chuckled a little at the awkwardness with which he did this.

“We are,” Björn said. “Unless there are any objections?” Silence filled the room, and so he nodded. “There are no objections, and so we are in agreement, King Alfred,” he said, and turned his head to look at the King.

“Excellent,” he said. “Then that’s the end of this matter. Aethelind, you may go and tend to anything you need or wish to, as you need not be involved in any other conversations here unless you wish to be.”

The Princess chuckled, and shook her head. “I have had enough of war meetings for the day,” she quipped. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I think I may go and ride. It’s my belief that I will have very limited time to do so in the near future, as well as in the distant future, so I’d like to enjoy it now, while I still have the time.”

Alfred chuckled, and nodded to acquiesce to this decision of hers. “Very well,” he said. “Then we shall all see you, if not sooner, for supper this evening.” She smiled and nodded.

“Indeed,” she said. “Until this evening, then.” She stood, looked around the room, and gave a small bow. “I wish you all wisdom and discernment in… whatever it is you must now discuss, and I hope for smooth discussions, and quick decisions to be made. Excuse me.”

Aethelind slipped out of the room, and started down the hall toward her own chambers to change into her riding habit. But, before an inconspicuous time had passed, Björn was up as well, and leaving the room. A silence took its remaining occupants, as they shared knowing looks with each other.

She heard the door open and shut once she was well beyond it, and turned to see who had followed her out. At the sight of Björn, she smiled, seemingly unsurprised.

“Something tells me you aren’t quite satisfied,” she commented, and he sighed, shaking his head as he approached her.

“In truth, I am not,” he confessed. He took her gently by the arm, and led her to a quieter part of the hall, where guards weren’t standing right over their shoulders. If he had had her attention in the meeting, he now had her curiosity.

“I worry about sending you, but you know this,” he said. The way her eyes darkened with concern, and her brows drew together, comforted him slightly. She wasn’t so headstrong- though she was still very much so- as not to listen to whatever he had to say. “I want you to know you can back out of this. Ivar is a dangerous man. You have not been prepared for this for your whole life, not in the way we have been, to deal with men like him. I know you and… all of those in that room believe you have figured him out, but I do not believe his unpredictability is only in the logic with which he approaches things.”

Before Björn had a chance to move on from that idea, Aethelind requested, “Would you elaborate on that?”

He nodded, and did so. “He reacts unpredictably. There is typically much logic in how he approaches strategy, much as you have, but… My brother is quick to anger, explosive rage. He killed our brother because of it. I do not doubt, if he believes he is betrayed by one he trusts, one he even cares for or loves, that he would kill that person regardless of how he has felt for them in the past. There is little room in Ivar’s mind for any grey area, for any mercies. Sigurd was a very talented fighter, but nothing prepared him for an axe being thrown into his chest, in the middle of a feast.”

The Princess winced, swallowing hard at the image put in her mind. She didn’t know anything about Sigurd Ragnarsson, but she pictured a boy who looked something like a younger Björn, mixed with Ivar as she remembered him, and a touch of Ubbe as well, a few of the features she vaguely recalled from Ragnar Lothbrok himself, with... an axe buried in his chest. The betrayal of a brother, the rage that must have been on Ivar’s face- though it was hard for her to conjure up that emotion on him, as calm and collected as he had seemed to her. The quiet shock in the crowd…

“Tell me about Sigurd,” she requested softly, and then began to walk on toward her chambers. She didn’t exactly ask if he would walk with her, but what she was learning of him, she knew he would. She was not wrong.

Björn kept pace with Aethelind, having sighed at her request, though clearly not intending to deny her. “He was a musician,” he commented. “At feasts, people would sit and listen to him play the oud. Sigurd wasn’t the… hardest man. Some become jaded and cynical when they consider war, seem to crave it in their blood, but…” He shook his head, frowning slightly and scrunching his nose the slightest bit. “Not Sigurd. He was as happy with a girl at his side and a horn of ale in his hand, sharing stories of the gods as any warrior would be on the battlefield.”

Aethelind smiled a little at the picture painted for her of the late Ragnarsson. “He seems like a good man,” she said. “He’d have fit in well here.”

Björn chuckled, and nodded a little. “I think he might have,” he agreed. “Ubbe wanted to settle here, in Wessex, on lands your grandfather granted us, and I think Sigurd might have stayed, if Ivar hadn’t killed him.”

“A musically inclined farmer, then, is that what he was?” she asked curiously.

“And a warrior, still,” Björn answered. “He fought with us in the Great Army that came to seek revenge for our father’s death.”

“The very one which killed my grandfathers, hm?” she questioned, looking up to Björn, and he nodded.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “They called him 'Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye'.” This clearly earned Aethelind’s curiosity, her brows lifting as she heard that name. Björn expanded before he was asked to. “He was born with the image of Fafnir, killed by his mother’s father, who he was named for, in his eye.”

“And who was Fafnir? A snake?” Aethelind asked. He shook his head.

“A dragon.”

Her eyes widened once more, and she gaped. “I had no idea such things really existed,” she confessed. But, there was a smile on her face. The idea intrigued her.

“If you listen to the right stories, they do,” Björn said. “But… Sigurd was also jealous of Ivar. When Ivar was born, he got most of their mother’s attention, and Sigurd was only months older than him. Sigurd never really forgave either of them for it.”

Now, Aethelind frowned, and said, “How could that have been Ivar’s fault? He would have been a child, the same as Sigurd. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but… it seems to me that should have been a complaint your brother took up with his mother, not with Ivar.”

Björn shrugged. “Perhaps so,” he agreed. “But he was still cruel to Ivar at times. Ivar did lash out in a rage when he killed Sigurd, but I cannot say it was something none of us saw coming.”

“Still,” Aethelind said. “Cruel or not, I couldn’t kill either of my brothers, I don’t believe.”

“I do not believe you could either,” Björn agreed. “You are saddened by the fighting between Ubbe and I, and Ivar and Hvitserk. You want to see this conflict resolved peacefully, and we are not even your brothers. If you do not want us to fight, how much less would you be willing to fight your own brothers?”

Aethelind was silent for a few moments as they walked, her lips pressed tightly together. “Quite unwilling, I suppose,” she confirmed softly, and Björn smiled a little.

“I think this is not a bad thing,” he confessed. “You are right, in that I do not wish to fight Ivar. He is my brother, and it hurts me to see him stand against me. But it is for my father, and my mother, and my people, that I will fight him. These are the decisions a King must make, and they are rarely easy.”

“And you know why I do not envy my brother, in his position,” Aethelind said. “I would not want the throne of Wessex, nor yet of England, for the fact that I doubt I have the constitution required to make such decisions.”

The pair soon came to Aethelind’s chambers, where she stopped, and turned to face Björn at the door. Realizing they had come to their destination- or at the least, to her destination, Björn also stopped. She took a breath, then let it out slowly. “I appreciate you making it clear, I can change my mind at any time,” she told him. “I don’t believe I will, but… if I wish to, I will do so.”

Björn nodded a bit. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “Consider it carefully, perhaps during your ride. We will begin your training tomorrow, I am sure. Until then, enjoy yourself, and rest. You will not have much time for that as we prepare you.”

Aethelind nodded, and smiled. “I will, thank you,” she said. “And thank you for supporting this plan and agreeing to help, Björn. Your support means much to me, I know you’re not sure about all of this.”

“You are right,” he said. “But, you were also right in that I cannot let you go without knowing all that could be done to prepare you- including preparing you myself- had been done. Though, dealing with Ivar…”

“I must say, I believe I am more equipped to deal with men like him than you believe,” she countered. “I have learned to work a court to my benefit since I was a young girl. How much more difficult can one man be?”

Björn considered this, and sighed. “Stay on your guard,” he warned. “Do not get overly confident in your dealings with him, and you will have a better chance.”

“At convincing him?” she questioned with a smile, but his answer made her smile fall.

“At surviving.”

Aethelind swallowed, and chuckled nervously. “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, and he nodded.

“As do I. But, until this evening, I am afraid I must leave you to return to that meeting.” His eyes widened, and he made a face as if to say, ‘Save me.’ This earned a small giggle from the Princess.

“You have my condolences,” she said. “I can’t stand the things. You’ll note I slipped out the moment I was no longer needed, and have chosen to go riding instead.”

“I envy you,” Björn said. “I would far rather go riding, instead of talking over plans in there.”

"Then I hope you have the time soon,” she told him with a small smile. “When you're not training me, of course.”

Björn chuckled at the words, and smiled a little. “We will prepare you well, Princess, and you will have victory in Kattegat.”

“For the third time now, Aethelind is perfectly appropriate,” she reminded him, smiling in an amusedly exasperated way, and he smirked in response.

"And I heard you each time, Princess,” he said. “I will see you this evening.”

Her eyes widened and heart stopped as the Viking leaned in to kiss her cheek, before pulling away, and walking back toward the meeting he’d left to accompany her on her walk. Once he rounded the corner, she felt her heart start to beat quickly, and she shut the door, turning to press her back against it as she grinned.

“Lord help me,” she whispered, and laid her head back against the door.

Taglist:  @youbloodymadgenius, @wilhelmyna, @katfett, @fangirl-nonsense, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927

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[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

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.”

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[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 13- Love So Fragile- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline has an encounter with Margrethe. Ivar meets Domonick Benjamina.

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

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

Ch. 12

Word count: 3205

Author’s Note: Let me just say, I told myself that I would update on my regular Saturday but I was in Ohio and I was visiting family and the days got away from me. Anyway, here’s Ch. 13 a few days late because I didn’t want to be that person that updated a whole week late. I hope you enjoy.

“It takes a lot of courage and trust to look past what you’ve been through, and trust someone new not to put you through it again.”

Ivar had not spoken to her about her past since the night she revealed it to him. She knew that he had suspected. He was a smart man and she’d made several threats against him if he ever touched her without her permission. It had really been only a matter of time before she told him or he found out. Either way, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She felt like she could breathe freely for the first time since she’d married him.

She had not told anyone else about her rape. She suspected the Ragnar and Lagertha knew. Björn probably as well. She didn’t mind so much, them knowing. They were discrete people. They weren’t the types to go around and speak ill of family. That wasn’t how Ragnar ran things. 

Torvi had invited her, and the other women, out for brunch. They were seated on the front patio drinking mimosas and chatting about the weather. Aaline fought the urge to roll her eyes. These women were smart and had married into a dangerous family. They could give two shits about the weather. They just didn’t know the best lead into what they really wanted to discuss. 

Aaline and Ivar’s marriage. 

Aaline knew that she and Ivar had been the talk of the town following their “sudden” marriage. According to the tabloids, it had been a whirlwind romance and Ivar had proposed two weeks after he had met Aaline. It was easier to let the public believe what they wanted instead of revealing the truth. Who wanted to hear how the country's most eligible bachelor was roped into an arranged marriage to protect his father’s money and reputation? Interesting, yes, but harder to believe then a whirlwind romance.

Aaline hadn’t told Torvi anything about her and Ivar’s discussion. It was her marriage after all and if Torvi needed to know, Aaline would tell her. She suspected that Thora and Torvi and Sibylle were just worried about her and wanted to check up on her, for their own peace of mind. Margrethe couldn’t care less about Aaline.

The woman in question was on her fourth mimosa and they hadn’t even gotten their food yet. 

Aaline was not fond of Margrethe. She hadn’t liked her before she knew her history with Ivar and she liked her even less now. The woman didn’t work and used Ubbe as her means of cash flow. She drank too much and made a fool of herself in public, embarrassing herself and the Lothbrok name.

Aaline may not enjoy the fact that her marriage was arranged against her will, but she was coming to terms with it. Made easier by the fact that Ivar was trying. He was making an effort to get to know her. He wasn’t pushing her into anything and he was forcing her to do things she didn’t want to do. He was learning about her, finding out what she liked, what she didn’t like, what had happened to her in the past, everything. Aaline couldn’t find it in herself to dislike him. She was coming to enjoy his presence. 

They had a lot in common. They were both loyal and determined. They enjoyed boxing and dealing with their problems head-on. They were not afraid to say what was on their minds and they protected the people they cared about. They both had tendencies towards violence. They responded with violence and fear. Ivar was not a good man but he took care of the people he cared about and Aaline was learning that she fell under that category. 

She found that she didn’t mind either. 

Aaline glanced up when Margrethe’s champagne flute wobbled and splashed orange juice across the table. She caught the glass before it tipped completely but her hand was sticky with juice. She cursed and wiped her hands against her napkin. Thora scoffed and Torvi rushed to help Margrethe clean up.

“Jesus, Margrethe, get a hold of yourself,” Thora whispered. The blonde glared under heavy brows at Thora but didn’t say anything. Torvi clucked her tongue and sat back in her seat. 

“Now, ladies, let’s not fight. This is supposed to be a nice brunch between sisters.” Torvi scolded. Her voice was light as if she was trying to play everything off. Margrethe huffed and straightened her shoulders, glaring at Thora but saying nothing. Sibylle watched the exchange but made no move to intervene.

Torvi painted on a tight smile and met Aaline’s eyes. She braced herself for the inevitable questions. 

“Aaline, how’s everything going with you and Ivar?” Aaline smiled at the anticipated question. She picked up her champagne glass and took a long drink.

She knew why Torvi had arranged this breakfast. It wasn’t to spend “quality time” with her sister-in-laws. Torvi wanted to make sure that Ivar hadn’t hurt Aaline.

Rumors about Ivar ran rampant through the city. He was violent and impulsive, acting first and asking questions later. He didn’t bother to fact check or talk to people. He acted on his impulses. He enjoyed hurting people and no one could stop him. There was never any physical evidence of his wrongdoings and the state had tried on more than one occasion to catch him breaking the law. Ivar was too smart to get caught. Plus, he had Ragnar’s money and support behind him. He was virtually untouchable. It helped that a lot of the people he “hurt” weren’t so great themselves. 

Gangsters, pimps, drug dealers, traffickers. Nine times out of ten, the people that Ivar dealt with were under investigation for various federal offenses. Ivar just got to them before the feds could. He wasn’t doing it out of the goodness of his heart, of course. Most of the time, they had either stolen from him, one of his brothers or his father, killed one of Ivar’s trusted men or infringed on territory that belonged to Ragnar. Sometimes, they just got too cocky and Ivar had to knock them down a peg, set an example. 

No one was willing to turn on Ivar so the feds could never make a case. 

Ivar was a dangerous man and no one knew it as much as his family. They had seen first hand what he was capable of. They knew what he could, and would, do to a person. 

Torvi just wanted to make sure that Ivar hadn’t done any of those things to Aaline. 

Aaline appreciated the thought, she really did. It was nice having people around that cared about her well-being. Torvi, however, had nothing to worry about. Ivar had been nothing but nice to her.

“It’s great, Torvi, thank you for asking.” Aaline smiled and set her glass down. Torvi hesitated before she nodded, looking towards Thora. Aaline nodded once, understanding. This was a team effort. Thora and Torvi had arranged this together. They were both worried. 

Aaline felt a warmth settle in her chest knowing that they cared for her. She didn’t have friends, just co-workers, and employees, so it was nice to know that there were women who cared about her.  

“I appreciate your concern, ladies, I really do, but everything is fine. Ivar and I have just been spending time together, getting to know each other. We have quite a bit in common, actually.” She shrugged and release a light laugh. “Who knew.” 

Margrethe snorted and shook her head. Aaline caught the movement and whipped her head to the side. Sibylle placed a placating hand on Aaline’s arm and squeezed but Aaline ignored her. She narrowed her eyes at the drunk woman next to her at the table.

“Do you have something to add, Margrethe?” Aaline’s voice was low and full of warning. Sibylle sucked in a sharp breath and tightened her hand on Aaline’s arm. Torvi and Thora watched with apprehensive eyes. 

Aaline watched Margrethe with cold eyes, waiting for the other woman to respond. She didn’t think Margrethe would but even cowards had moments of courage. Margrethe had been drinking so Aaline wouldn’t put it past her to suddenly find a deep-seated well of courage in her gut.

“Go on, Margrethe. If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t hold back on my account.” Aaline gave her a thin smile that was veiled with malice but Margrethe had been drinking and didn’t take the hint. She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, belying bravery she didn’t possess. Aaline almost felt pity for her.

“I don’t know how anyone could have anything in common with that animal.” She sniffed, avoiding the eyes of the other women who were staring at her in mixtures of shock and disdain. Aaline kept her expression blank and even, giving nothing away, allowing Margrethe the confidence to continue. 

“He’s cruel and violent. He even tried to kill me once.” She huffed and picked up her glass, taking a long sip, finishing the tangy liquid. Aaline frowned, nodding as if she were contemplating Margrethe’s words. She picked up her own glass and took a long drink.

Sibylle flicked her eyes between Margrethe and Aaline. She, at least, had some idea of what kind of woman Aaline was. She had alluded to it on the night of her wedding to Ivar and Sibylle had been careful around her ever since. Torvi and Thora had read Aaline’s file and knew about the childhood escapades she’d manufactured and had a pretty good idea of what exactly Aaline and Ivar had in common.

None of them, however, pitied Margrethe’s unfortunate faux pas. 

Aaline hummed and looked over at Margrethe, licking the remaining orange juice off her lips. The other woman at least had the decency to look a little nervous if not somewhat triumphant. Aaline almost felt bad for her. 

Aaline sighed and pulled her arm from underneath Sibylle’s hand. “Oh, Margrethe,” She tsked and shook her head, a cruel smile gracing her face. “Was that before or after you couldn’t get his cock to work?” 

Margrethe gasped and looked around at the other women. Torvi was ignoring her gaze, too busy adjusting the place setting before her. Thora was dutifully flagging down the waitress to ask about their food and Sibylle was burning holes into the side of Aaline’s head with the force of her stare. 

“How dare you. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Margrethe shuffled in her seat, folding her arms across her chest and looking away from Aaline’s accusing gaze. Aaline nodded and narrowed her eyes.

“I think I do. I am married to him, after all. If anyone would know whether his cock works or not, it would be me and it works just fine.” Aaline reached casually across the table for the pitcher of mimosa and poured herself another glass. She could feel Torvi and Thora and Sibylle’s eyes on her but kept her face blank.

All three of them knew that Ivar and Aaline did not share a wedding bed on their wedding night. They didn’t know that they continued to not share a bed. As far as Aaline was concerned, they could assume that Ivar and her were sleeping together regularly after this conversation. She didn’t much care. Ivar was her husband and she wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect him.

She stiffened when she felt a presence beside her and Thora brightened. 

“Hvitserk, what are you doing here?” She asked. Aaline felt a pressure on the back of her chair and glanced up to find Hvitserk resting his hand on the back of her chair.

She felt her face heat up but forced herself to look up at him. He searched her face, his eyes light and smiling. She blinked dumbly at the clear admiration she saw shining out of his eyes. She looked away and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, knowing that he had heard at least part of her exchange with Margrethe.

He turned to Thora. “You told me to come pick you up at eleven. Said you didn’t want to be late.” Thora nodded in recognition, glancing around at the other women. She shrugged demurely and smiled up at her husband. “I think I’ll stay. Our food hasn’t even arrived yet.” 

Hvitserk rested his gaze on each woman before nodding and coming around to his wife, kissing her forehead. He locked eyes with Aaline before departing back the way he’d come. She drew herself up straight and stared hard at each woman at the table. None of them said anything and Margrethe slouched lower in her seat. 

Aaline sat back as their food arrived. 

~*~

“Ivar, what are we even doing here? Thora’s supposed to make spaghetti bolognese tonight with handmade pasta.” Hvitserk said. There was a high pitch to his voice that set Ivar’s teeth on edge. 

Ivar had done his research and found out where Domonick Benjamina worked and had been watching him for several days. He had yet to visit his house but, for now, was content just watching him come and go from work. 

Ragnar was right when he said that Aaline effectively ruined Domonick’s life. 

The man wasn’t capable of walking outside without looking over his shoulder. He had dark circles under his eyes and he kept his hands buried deep in his pockets any time he left his office. A large man in a dark suit was always following him around and Ivar easily determined that man to be a bodyguard of sorts. 

Domonick Benjamina was officially paranoid. It didn’t matter how much money daddy had or what he did to protect himself. Aaline had terrorized him enough in his youth to make him a paranoid adult afraid of his own shadow. 

Ivar felt deep satisfaction at the state of her work but still had a gnawing need for vengeance. He glanced over at his brother. 

“I want you to help me frighten that man.” Hvitserk glanced lazily out the window and followed Ivar’s finger. He snorted and shook his head. 

“He already looks reasonably frightened. Look at the way he’s clutching his coat to his throat and, not to mention, the bodyguard two steps behind him. Whatever you want to do, he’s already afraid.” Hvitserk closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, feigning sleep. 

Ivar threw his arm out and smacked Hvitserk’s chest. Hvtiserk hissed and jerked up, cringing away from Ivar’s hand. 

“Alright. What do you want to do?” Hvitserk whined, rubbing his chest where Ivar smacked him. Ivar threw his brother a wicked grin and produced a silver beretta with a white grip and disengaged the safety. Hvitserk quirked an eyebrow and pulled out his own chrome Smith & Wesson, checking the clip. 

Ivar vaulted from the car and moved towards Domonick. Hvitserk moved towards the bodyguard, effectively cutting him off in the alley. Domonick glanced behind him when he heard the sounds of bodies colliding but Ivar was there. He gave Domonick a grin that the Devil himself would tremble before and pushed him into the alley. 

Domonick’s eyes widened at the sight of Hvitserk delivering a sharp kick to his bodyguards' midsection. The man was officially out of commission and Domonick was on his own. He held his hands up and began to plead. 

“Look, whatever you want, it’s yours. Money, drugs, whatever. I can get you what you want, just please don’t hurt me.” He cowered beneath Ivar’s gaze and only opened his eyes when Ivar began to laugh. Hvitserk grinned down at the trembling man and smacked Ivar’s shoulder. 

Ivar looked down at Domonick and pressed the muzzle of the run to his temple. Ivar sneered when the smell of urine reached his nose. He took a step back and glanced down at Domonick. The man had pissed himself but what was Ivar to expect from a coward.

Ivar growled and shoved Domonick back against the wall. “I don’t want your money. Don’t you know who I am?” Domonick peeked out from beneath his arm and examined Ivar’s face. Ivar nodded, pleased when recognition flooded Domonick’s face. 

“Please, Mr. Lothbrok, whatever you want, I can get it for you. I’ll talk to my father. I’m sure we can work something out.” Domonick continued to plead beneath Ivar. Ivar grinned and moved the muzzle of his gun beneath Domonick’s jaw. 

“If you know who I am, then I’m sure you’re familiar with my wife, no?” It took longer for Domonick to understand but when he did, the color drained from his face and his eyes widened. Ivar revelled in the fear that overcame Domonick Benjamina at that moment. 

“Mr. Lothbrok, please, that was such a long time ago. Your wife, she made her point. I understand now.” Domonick pressed his hands together in what Ivar could only assume was a poor mimicry of prayer. 

Ivar snorted and widened his stance, towering over Domonick. “You haven’t.” He moved the muzzle to Domonick’s other temple and stroked the man’s hair away from his face with the cool metal. Tears streamed down Domonick’s face as he gazed up at Ivar. 

“But you will.” Ivar finished. 

Later, Hvitserk was driving the car back to the estate while Ivar sat in the passenger seat wiping the blood off his hands. Hvitserk glanced over at him so many times that Ivar was getting annoyed. 

“If you have something to say, brother, just come out and say it.” Ivar snarked. Hvitserk snorted and shook his head, turning his eyes back to the road. 

“You and Aaline really are made for each other,” Hvitserk said. Ivar felt the sneer come over his face before he could stop it. He turned incredulous eyes towards his brother and Hvitserk nearly crashed the car he started laughing so hard. 

“What? You don’t believe me? Well, you didn’t hear what she said at brunch today with the women.” Hvitserk’s tone was superior and it made Ivar angry. He shoved his brother and Hvitserk cursed when the car swerved and he quickly righted them.

He glared at his younger brother and cleared his throat. “As I was saying. Margrethe was being her normal bitchy self and said some unpleasant things about you. Granted, it was all true but, even still, she shouldn’t have said them.” Ivar narrowed his eyes, wondering where exactly Hvitserk was going with this. 

“Aaline jumped right in and defended you. Told Margrethe she didn’t know what she was talking about where your,” Hvitserk cleared his throat and glanced over at Ivar. “Cock was concerned.” Ivar sat back and kept narrowed eyes on his brother. 

He and Aaline had yet to consummate their marriage and yet she had lied to Margrethe about her experience with his cock. He ignored his brother and continued to wipe the blood off his fingers. A new sense of pride in his wife bubbled up in his chest. She was willing to stand up for him, defend him when he wasn’t there to do so. 

That was an admirable trait in his book. Maybe Hvitserk was right and they were made for each other. 

Tags: @funmadnessandbadassvikings @bcarolinablr @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @littledeadrottinghood 

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 5- Sell My Soul- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline meets Ragnar. Aelle makes a deal with Ecbert.

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

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violent, sex, torture

Word Count: 2634

Ch. 4

“Trust is a dangerous game.”

Ecbert sat with his hands pressed together and held against his lips. He watched Aelle with inscrutable eyes and contemplated his plea.

Aelle had been rash, attacking Kattegat. The peace brokered between Ragnar Lothbrok and his Northmen was tenuous at best but it had held steady since the death of his wife seven years before. Ecbert had worked hard to keep Ragnar Lothbrok at bay. He was a formidable enemy and the Saxon organization had suffered enough at his hands.

Aelle’s attack on Kattegat was foolish and had cost him. Yes, Ragnar Lothbrok suffered considerable financial damage, however, he made enough annually that it would be easy for him to recover the nearly five million dollars that he’d lost in Aelle’s attack. If anything, Aelle lost more than Ragnar.

The attack itself had been rash but Aelle decided to send his brother Aethelwulf in as the lead on the attack. Many Saxon men died and Aethelwulf was missing. Ecbert was confident that Ragnar Lothbrok had him locked up somewhere to use as a bargaining chip. If Aelle was lucky, they would just leave him locked up but, if Ragnar did was Ecbert thought he would do, then, Aethelwulf was most likely in the hands of Ragnar’s most brutal and unpredictable son.

Ecbert was well aware of Ivar Lothbrok’s reputation. It was well earned, after all. The rumors that surrounded Ivar “the Boneless” were intriguing. Ecbert had been witness to some of Ivar’s fights when he was a teenager. It was true that he appeared to dance inside the ring. If you looked close enough, it looked like he was moving and bending in ways that were impossible for the human body. His childhood nickname of “The Boneless” took on a whole new meaning.

Ecbert had heard whispers among his men of what Ivar Lothbrok was capable of. He was merciless when provoked. Fighting in the boxing ring was one thing but, when attacked, Ivar was ferocious. He stopped at nothing to get what he wanted or right whatever wrong he felt had been dealt against him. He was insane and yet, Ecbert had to admire the fierce loyalty that he maintained. He’d never turned his back on his family and Ecbert could only dream of such blind loyalty. His own son, coincidentally also named Aethelwulf, was loyal to a point.

Ecbert’s men liked to talk. They spoke mostly of Ragnar’s sons and their devotion to their father and his cause. They spoke of Björn’s impenetrable fighting style. How he was untouchable and no man could mark him. They spoke of Ubbe and Hvitserk and Sigurd and how each brother fought with abandon, unafraid of death.

They mostly spoke of Ivar. A demon, they called him, with black eyes full of malicious intent. A smile that dripped of sin and waved you off as he sent you to meet your maker. They spoke of how his teeth dripped red with the blood of his enemies. The most popular claim was that he would take men home, still alive, and flay the skin from their bones before eating it raw.

Ecbert was not one to believe in rumors. He did not doubt that the youngest son of Ragnar Lothbrok was as savage as his men claimed but he very much doubted that he was a cannibal or a demon, for that matter. He was just a man and men had weaknesses.

“What is it you think I can do for you, Aelle?” Ecbert folded his hands and sat back in his chair. Aelle heaved a great sigh and shifted his girth in his chair. The legs creaked ominously beneath him and Ecbert arched an eyebrow, waiting. “I propose that we come together. My men and your men, as a single unit, would be too much for Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons.”

Ecbert nodded in thought before he sat up. “I was not the one who attacked Ragnar Lothbrok. My brother is not the one currently behind enemy lines, probably being tortured for information. Ragnar Lothbrok is not after me. Why should I help you and break the peace that I have with Ragnar Lothbrok?”

Aelle looked irritated but must’ve been expecting the argument. He opened his mouth to continue. “It is no secret that the peace between you and Lothbrok has been unstable since the sudden death of his wife which,” Aelle held his hand up to keep Ecbert from interrupting. “We both know had nothing to do with either of us. It was an unfortunate tragedy, yes, but neither of us was wise to the plot.

“All the same, Ragnar has not trusted us since that unfortunate incident and has steadily been trying to push us out. He’s slowly bought out our clients, our storefronts. Just last week he made a deal with one of the top construction companies in the nation and is now a member of its board. He’s trying to get rid of us as quietly as possible.”

Ecbert narrowed his eyes and looked away from Aelle. He had had similar thoughts within the last few weeks. Lothbrok’s reach was getting too long. He was beginning to control more territory that Ecbert and Aelle combined. Soon enough, he would have control of everything Ecbert held dear.

He turned back to Aelle. “What kind of deal did he make?” Aelle’s smile widened and he leaned forward. “Ives Jensen was indebted to Lothbrok, owed him millions of dollars that he couldn’t pay back. Now, Ives’ only child is a daughter that he sent away after the death of her mother. Ragnar has five sons, all of whom are extremely devoted to their father, do whatever he asks.

“Now, Ives is a coward. He hasn’t been running his company since his daughter graduated from Oxford. Ragnar has four sons that are already married and one son that is rumored to be uncontrollable.”

Ecbert began to understand what kind of deal Ragnar Lothbrok had made. “These rumors have been hurting Ragnar’s reputation. His own men have begun to discuss his inability to control Ivar and how it may be time for him to step down. Of course, this is unacceptable so, when Lothbrok goes to kill Ives Jensen and take back his money, Ives does what all cowards do and offers someone else in his place.” Aelle’s voice was quiet like he was sharing a secret. Ecbert couldn’t help but smile as he listened.

“Ives offers his daughter as a wife for Ivar. He’ll hand over his company, his assets, everything to his daughter and, as an extension, Ragnar, in exchange for his life.” Aelle sat back, happy with the tale he just told.

“This is something that Ragnar cannot possibly pass up. One of the nations largest construction companies, virtual control over it, millions of dollars in revenue, and exhibiting his control over his youngest son. It works out wonderfully in his favor and gives him control of properties that have been in our territory for years.”

Ecbert took a deep breath and licked his lips. He looked over at Aelle. “Well, if Ragnar Lothbrok can make deals of marriage, why can’t we?” Aelle looked contemplative as Ecbert leaned forward, his hands pressed tightly against the desktop. “I have a son, you have a daughter. Let’s discuss our options.”

.

Aaline crept lightly down the stairs. The house was quiet and dark. Everyone else was asleep and Aaline didn’t want to wake them.

It was after three in the morning and Aaline was heading to the kitchen. She had trouble getting to sleep so she decided to venture down to one of the kitchens and make herself something to eat.

She remembered as a child waking up in the middle of the night and going in search of her mother. She would always find her in the kitchen with a tall glass of milk filled with crushed Oreos that she would dig out with a spoon. It was heavy with sugar and numbed Aaline’s mouth with the cold. She remembered giggling wildly with her mother during those late night snacks. It was one of the only memories she had of her mother before she died.

Aaline pulled the milk from the fridge and the Oreos from the cupboard. She poured herself and tall glass and then crumbled up each cookie individually before she dropped them into her glass. She closed her eyes as she took the first bite. It had been a long time since she’d last enjoyed this special treat. She hadn’t done it since college and the flood of memories brought tears to her eyes.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if she and Ivar might ever share memories like this. She felt despair settle in her stomach at the thoughts and shook them away. She would be lucky if Ivar was tolerable.

She placed her dirty glass in the sink and made her way back around to the staircase and up to her room. On her way, she heard a soft rustling from the sitting room in the back of the house. She turned to investigate and saw a soft light coming from down the hall. She slowly made her way towards it and stopped in the doorway.

She’d seen enough pictures of Ragnar Lothbrok to know that he was sitting before her now. He had a newspaper from today, well, technically yesterday, unfolded in his hands. He had a pair of reading glasses pushed far down the end of his nose. He was bald but with a thick beard that obscured the lower half of his face. His face was lined with the experiences afforded to a man his age. The lines around his eyes trailed down his cheeks. There was a long scar on his right cheek that curved around his eye and up his forehead. She could tell, even from the doorway, that Ivar got his eyes from his father. They both held the same secrets and the same pain. Ivar’s eyes were cold where Ragnar’s were warm.

What surprised Aaline most about Ragnar’s appearance were the tattoos on either side of his head. They touched at his temples and spanned the space of his head, trailing down around his ears and disappearing into the collar of his shirt at his neck.

She was surprised that a businessman like Ragnar would adorn himself with such obvious ink but she recalled where he started in life and it made sense.

He began his career as a businessman at the bottom of the totem pole. A lowly foot soldier taking orders from the man on top. He did the bidding of Earl Haraldson, the man that Ragnar would one day replace.

As a foot soldier, Ragnar tattooed his victories on his skin. They told the story of his strength and his independence. They told anyone who looked at them how he overcame Earl Haraldson for control of Kattegat and, eventually, the Northmen.

“You are welcome to join me, Miss Jensen. There is another seat.” Aaline startled and blushed fiercely at being caught staring. She shuffled forward and sat on the edge of the chair next to Ragnar. He smiled at her and closed his paper, handing her an empty glass. She took it, confused, and watched as Ragnar unscrewed a flask and poured her two finger worth of whiskey. She smiled and took a careful sniff. Ragnar laughed when she burst into a coughing fit.

“My apologies. Floki makes his own whiskey and it is very potent.” She nodded and set the glass down, deciding to leave it untouched. Ragnar shuffled his paper and went back to reading.

Aaline felt awkward, sitting in the dark with a man she barely knew. She opened her mouth to speak but Ragnar beat her to it. “We have not been formally introduced.” He folded his paper and set it down on his lap. “I am Ragnar Lothbrok.” He held his hand out for her to shake. “Aaline Jensen.” She whispered.

He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners and she found she liked the way it changed his face. “It is nice to finally meet you, Aaline Jensen. I have heard a lot about you.” She tensed and nodded once, looking away from him. She heard him hum. “I imagine it is hard for you, being here, alone, knowing no one.”

There was an accent present in his voice. It was thick but he enunciated well, spoke clearly. She imagined a man like Ragnar Lothbrok was not stupid by any means. He had to be clever in order to get to where he is now.

She turned to look at him. “I’m adjusting.” She said. He nodded, looking over her face. “The girls are lovely, very welcoming.” She nodded and looked down at her hands. “At one time, they were all in your shoes. New to this world, the challenges of marrying a Lothbrok.” She snorted and he quirked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “No offense, Mr. Lothbrok,” He cut her off. “Call me Ragnar, please.” She hesitated but nodded and continued. “No offense, Ragnar, but I don’t think any of the other women who married into this family did so under duress.” Ragnar smiled and nodded, humming his agreement. “No, I don’t believe they did.”

She looked at him and watched as he breathed deeply. “You remind me of my daughter, Gyda. She had a fire about her. She would not be told what to do. She followed her own path, made her own decisions.” Aaline drew her eyebrows together. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

Ragnar looked sad then and nodded slowly. “She died, many years ago.” Aaline closed her eyes and shook her head. Losing her mother had been hard on her but she couldn’t imagine losing a child. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been very difficult for you.” Ragnar grunted.

“There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for her. She was the light of my life.” Aaline felt tears burn her eyes and wished that her father held her in the same regard that Ragnar did his daughter. Her father had said a lot of pretty things to her but never had he displayed his affection in a way that meant anything.                  

“I love my sons, dearly. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.” She looked up at him then and his gaze was focused on her entirely. She felt trapped beneath his eyes. “But their wives, my new daughters, in all of them I see Gyda. I am reminded of how easily life can be taken and I vowed to protect them as I would my own daughter.”

He picked up his own glass of whiskey and took a long drink. He placed it back down and smiled at her. “I know that this is not what you want. It is not what Ivar wants, either. I imagine none of us ever thought this would be a path life would lead us down but, alas, we are here.” He shifted in his seat to face her fully, his eyes still locking her in place. “I want you to know, as much as you may not believe it now, you will always be protected under this house. You are my daughter now and you will always be safe here.”

Aaline swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. She wanted to speak, say anything to Ragnar Lothbrok but the lump in her throat was too thick and any words that she tried to force would lead her to tears. Ragnar must’ve sensed it because he tipped his head to her and gestured to the door.

“It is late, child. Go back to bed. There are many things to do in the morning.”