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rabentochter · 4 years ago

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okay so. frositron. bUT i wanna challenge u to take the fluff prompt "is that my shirt?" "you mean our shirt?" and make it angst/dark instead huhuhuhuhuhuhuhu *rubs palms together*

Loki absently wiped the blood from his face, his mind no longer a madhouse ruled by dozens of mini-Thors and mini-Lokis, as he so often thought. Instead, there was only a mist of gold and green, soothing him. The blood was no longer warm, the heart of its owner stopped beating a long time ago.

But Loki couldn’t regret it. For him, it had been a conquering, a conquest to honour the bond he was creating with Anthony. Courting a Midgardian had never looked that difficult in his books, they were supposedly swooning and falling all over themselves in order to get a look at them – but not Anthony. Not his mortal who rather would lose a foot than to keep his mouth shut, who bantered and bickered as if it was his natural state of being; chatting away like a singing bird.

It was maddening and it created such chaos in Loki himself that he was chasing more and more of it; kept in solitude where Anthony chased clouds with his words so that they turned into warm sunshine that tickled on Loki’s face.

But Loki was followed by this thrice-damned curse of the Norns, who were having a laugh over his fate. He was sentenced to live in the vast shadows that were cast by the people he loved and laid his heart at their feet, all the tasks no ordinary man would want to execute, they were thrown in his lap, waiting to be accepted.

He ran his dirty hand over the thick material of the shirt, noted the bloodstains centred at the left. When he put his mind to it, then Loki could still see those bright brown eyes looking at him fearlessly. Only loyalty and unquestioned love was written in them, short curly hair decorated with bright red spots.

Oh, Loki could only hope to inspire one day that kind of loyalty in one of his own people before he’d flicker out. Loyalty without question, only blind and pure faith, the fervent wish for their friend to lead the life they were owned by fate. A trick played on the Norns that Loki wished would make him happy but it didn’t, because he knew that it cost a lot.

But it was done. Harold “Happy” Hogan was no more.

The door to the bedroom slid open, Anthony’s steps heavy and the odour of his sweat tangibly in the air.

“Back from your workshop binge?” Loki asked.

“Yes.” A light chuckle. “Missed me yet or were you busy with your own books?”

“A combination of both.” Loki gripped the shirt between his hands. The purple colour didn’t absorb the colour of the blood, it looked more like ugly black splotches on it, the grim yellow patter on it that didn’t make much sense to Loki, even darker. It was the shirt Anthony had worn when they’d met in the penthouse at the peak of the invasion, the banter fast, the rejoinders quicker and cut to the core.

“Awwwww,” Anthony cooed from behind him. “What are you holding in your hands there? A gift?”

“Something akin to that.” Loki turned his head around. “If I were to tell you, mínn svass, that I found a way to turn you into an immortal, what would you say?”

“That I’m fucking delighted, that’s what I’m going to say.” But there was a notch of something in Anthony’s voice, as if he was tasting the but in the air that Loki was dangling between them.

“If I tell you that it was a messy affair and cost something in return?”

“That it better had been worth it.”

Loki swallowed the fear down that was trying to crawl up his throat. He saw the sceptical look in Anthony’s eyes, the way his hands were fidgeting at his sides and perhaps, perhaps Loki had made a mistake and called for action too soon. But he wouldn’t let Harold’s sacrifice go to waste, that would be a disgrace to him and a shameful moment to the friendship of him and Anthony—

“Is that my shirt?”

“You mean our shirt?” Loki asked, the tone too light for it to be jokingly. But this was it, either he’d do it now or never —

He presented the shirt to Anthony, covered in blood as it was.

“Blood is for life, and there has been one given voluntarily so you may stay at my side for longer,” Loki quietly informed Anthony. Trepidation was building up in him. A stray hair fell into his face, almost as if it wished to get a good look at the show.

“Loki—” The tremble in Anthony’s voice didn’t promise anything good. “What– whose blood is that?”

“Hogan’s,” Loki replied, eyes cast down as he let a wave of grief wash over him. He had liked the man, had felt good in his company, the fact that he could be sure he wouldn’t try to gain information on him to use it against him at some point. No. Hogan didn’t care about him as long as he wasn’t trying to harm Anthony, which Loki had promised to him, he never would do willingly, not for as long as he had his wit about him.

He’d promised it to the fading life, one he wished he could have had more of. But it was done.

“Loki—”

“He agreed to it,” Loki cut Anthony off. “He only wants you to be happy.” He got up from the bed, the shirt in his hands, crumpled like the sheets.

“Please,” he offered the shirt again to Anthony, waiting with hold breath for it to be taken from his hands. “Please,” he said again, remembering Hogan’s eyes and his desire for his friends to be happy.

#frostiron #sesil writes #ANYWAY SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE 3 MONTHS #OOPS #WHERE DID TIME GO #ALSO WARNING FOR CHARACTER DEATH #ramonda

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igetcarriedawaywithyou · 5 years ago

Text

Hvitserk’s Valkyrie - Chapter 5

Summary: She walked into the great hall that night and all Hvitserk could think was that he needed to know who she was because she would be his. He had seen visions of her in his dreams. The gods had sent her right to him and he wasn’t about to let anyone else have her. But what did the gods want for them?

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Vikings

Tags & Warning: Fluff, OC, I’ve given up on Canon

Words: 4087

Gif from: @whenimaunicorn

Authors Notes: Sorry for the unexpected hiatus! But I’m coming back slowly!

All the warriors of the Great Heathen Army have gathered around the altar outside, lines of lamps leading to it. Bjorn and Torvi with their children stood on one side while the rest of Ragnar’s sons stood opposite, Margrethe with Ubbe, then Sigurd, Hvitserk stood on the other side of his sister in law. Just behind his shoulder, half hidden by his height, Kára watched Earl Jorgensen make his way up the altar. Glancing over his shoulder, Hvitserk tugged Kára forward, grasping her hand.

“Stand with me.” He whispers. His fingers knit with hers. Everyone is gasping watching a night sun fly over the sky. A blessing from the gods. Their eyes follow it fly by as the chants begin. The sacrifice has been made, Earl Jorgensen will sit in the halls of Valhalla in honour. The warriors move to the hall to feast before their long journey. Kára watches as the crowd of Vikings move, Hvitserk body shifts to follow his brothers back. His grip on her hand is strong, she wants so much to easily follow him. Instead, she loosens her hold.

“What is it?” He turns, trying to tug her forward, you can tell Hvitserk is eager to go eat, the boar had been roasting on the spit and the mouthwatering smell was now wafting towards him, beckoning him to eat.

“I think a visit to the Seer is in order.” She said quietly, she looks away not able to look him in the eye. The nagging feeling in her chest was too much. No matter how much she relished the attention from Hvitserk, she had to be sure.

“Do you still not believe?” His hands come up quickly to cup her head, hold her in place, forcing Kára to look at him, almost feeling like she could lose herself in his blue-green eyes. “What can I do to prove you this is what is for us?”

“Wait for me.” She whispers, taking hold of his wrists, she pulls her face out of his hands. Smiling up at him she turns away and pulls his cloak tightly around her, Hvitserk watched the swish of the cloak as she moves toward the Seer’s hut. Kára slips into the Seer’s hut, the old man sat shaking near the cracked window in the moonlight.

“So, you have come.” She places the small pack of seeds at his table before moving to kneel in front of him. His presence is intimidating and terrifying.

“But will you tell what I wish to know,” she asks, “without your riddles?”

“These words are not mine.”

“Then have I made the right decision by coming here?” she desperately implores. “Is it my destiny? To be here, with Hvitserk?” Kára’s youth shines through on her face. If the Seer could see the pain and confusion on her face he might have pitied her.

“The gods have a destiny for everyone, child. You are meant to be together. The choices he’s made so far are distractions from finding you. But his future choices will be what that matters, and yours, they will lead apart, then together. Perhaps. Nothing is certain.” Kára sits still on the floor, attempting to grasp this information. What choices? Should she truly be here? Nothing was keeping her in Hedeby now. The Seer’s palm appears in the line of vision to pull her from her thoughts. Licking it she rises to leave.

Kára looks up to see the night sky has turned green with light, ‘two good omens in one night’ she thought, headed to the hall along the beach she sees Staðr trotting towards her, she takes a knee and open her arms to wait for him, but the hound turns just before he reaches her, heading to the shoreline. Following she sees Hvitserk sitting on the dock, his legs dangling over the edge. His body almost hidden by the barrels and crate stacked along to be loaded tomorrow. Without turning around, he asked:

“Did you find the answers you needed?” His posture is casual, legs swing off the dock, his hands braced on the ledge between his knees leaning him forward at a precarious angle. She sits beside him, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, she tucks her chin in the cleft between her knees, staring out at the calm water.

“Some.” As she shifts the rest of her cloak behind her.

“Do you need more answers?”

“Yes.” Her head tilts so she can look at him. Her face shines in the moonlight, and only looks like perfection to Hvitserk.

“Ask then.” He shifts to face her leaning back against the post of the dock, one leg still dangling, his other foot coming to rest somewhere behind her, knee bent to prop his arm.

“How do you know this is true, that this is what the gods want?” She watches him with such scrutiny that he wants to look away, he lets out a breath, closing his eyes he leans his head back against the post as well.

“You are so sure.”

“We’ve seen each other in our dreams have we not?” Her eyes narrow at him. “I’ve said so before.” She watches him like a hawk now. “Do you not see your dreams to be true?” his voice sounds of annoyance.

“I do not! When I say I think I have seen you in my dreams, it is because I have heard such stories from Bjorn. He cares greatly for all of you. He would talk endlessly of you all! So I would think of what you all would look!”

“But you do, you can see you want to in your eyes, svass.”

“I want to…” She hesitates to sigh “Our dreams, the idea that we are being pushed together is ...” She hesitates. “Frightening. How do you know it to be true?”

“My mother had the gift,” he replied slowly. “Other times I have dreamt, I have seen come true in front of my eyes.” She says nothing, but her clear eyes are so bright against the night sky, the green lights in the sky reflect in her dark irises. She sighs heavily and closes her eyes in contemplation.

“Do you believe me?” He leans forward coming close to her face. “The gods want us to be together.”

“I believe they want us to be together.” She says softly. She feels the tips of his fingers reach out to brush her hair. “Whatever this spell is between us I cannot deny anymore.” His fingers weave between the strands now.

“But as I understand, we will both make choices. That will lead us away and back to each other.” His hand now comes to cup her neck. “Will you accept with that?” she asks. Too afraid to look him in the eye.

“You will be with me always.” His words startle her, as she finally looks at.

“Our loyalties lie in different camps Hvitserk.” Her hand comes to hold his wrist. “Will you be able to live with my choices that will be different than yours?”

“You’ll stay with me.” His grip is stronger now, hurting, almost bruising. Pulling her toward him. Her body slides closer to him between his legs.

“Listen to me Hvitserk!” She urges, her fingers now dig into the tendon of his wrist, an effort for him to let go. “I want you, more than anything I have ever wanted. But I need you to promise me something,” his grip has been pulling her body closer to his still, her legs push against his leg still dangling over the dock.

“Anything.” He’s pulled her close enough now that she is half leaning on him. The noses barely touching, if they were breathing any harder their chest would touch. She turns to rest her hands on his chest, letting her weight rest there. She looks up, searching his face.

“When these choices must be made you will not stop me from making mine, and I from yours.” Her hands come up now, to cup his neck, her thumb just grazing his cheekbone. Her eyes pleading “Trust that I will come back to you, that the gods will make it so.”

“No.” he growls, his teeth are clenched. “You will stay with me. Always. That is all.”

“Hvitserk. You will not be able to keep me caged.” She tries to pull away. His grip too strong now as he brings his other arm around to keep her against him. “If you try to, we will never be together.” She holds his face in both her hands now “Promise me. Then we will be able to have our life.”

“We can have it now. I’ve seen it!” Hvitserk retorts stubbornly.

“Have you seen all of it?” she snaps, Hvitserk has never seen her angry before. “We do not know what the gods actually want from us do we?” Such anger from her makes his blood boil. Heat comes from her skin, mingling with his. Looking her in the eye

“Fine. You have my word.” He pulls her head to rest against his. “I do not like it, I do not have to, but I promise, as long as you come back me to.” “The same for you.” The heat between them is heavy. Finally, after what seems for ages, their lips crashing together. Soft was all he could think, she was soft and real under his hands and lips. Running his hand down her side he pulled her closer as if there was more space between them too, to make them feel like they are one. He pushes his lips hard into the kiss, putting any emotions he could not say aloud into the kiss. She returns in kind. Anything she does not understand, the little she does right now. All they know is that it is right. Under the Goddess Freyja’s green night sky.

---

The morning of the Great Heathen Army’s departure has arrived. Across the pier she could Bjorn see pacing back and forth in front of his brothers, demanding their trust for their war. They would be leaving soon. As soon as the boats were done. She knelt down to finish packing dried meats in crates on the dock, so she could watch under hood lashes across the way at the brothers. The brother’s rise to move away. A decision has been made, no one looks angry, except for Ivar but then again, he always looks angry. Finishing the crate, she passes it off and heads towards her hut. In the days that Hvitserk and Kára have known each other, it feels as if they have always been in each other’s lives for eons. Making themselves comfortable in either of their spaces.

Pushing into her hut she hurriedly shoves the last of the herbs in colours threaded pouches and wraps her blanket, she ties it her pack. She takes Hvitserk’s cloak from where it lay on her bed wrapping it over her shoulder tight and buckles it in place. She gathers her weapons and pack, locking up her hut she goes to say her farewells to Lagertha. She enters the hall; the Queen of Kattegat is sitting on the dais with Torvi and Astrid.

“Is it time for you to leave already?” She embraces her tight. “May the Gods watch over you on your journey.” Lagertha watches as Kára moves to hug Torvi and Astrid. “For your first raid. A gift for you.” Torvi pulls a shield from behind the throne. Painted blue and red with Lagertha’s crest. Kára runs her hand over it. “May it protect you.”

“My thanks Lagertha. For everything.”

“It is as Bjorn said, you have become the daughter I thought Gyda would have grown to be.” Holding Kára shoulders. “Your mother was always there for me in times of need when we were in Hedeby, your father too. I only hope I can be there for you in their absence.” She takes a small dab of gold paint on her thumb from beside her and pulls it down over Kára’s left eye and a dot under it. Lagertha takes her face in her hands and kisses her forehead.

“You are. I cannot thank you enough for it.” Kára embraces Lagertha tightly. Any fears she might have had melted away.

“And when you return, you will have to tell me what the seer has said about you and Hvitserk.” Blushing Kára ducks her head. Not much goes unnoticed by Lagertha, if anything at all.

“I will. But as I have been told, we can never know what the gods want for us. They want something though. I am still unsure though.” Lagertha smiles knowingly. Kára kneels down to hug Guthram and Erik and then heaves the shield over her shoulder.

“I will see you when I return, with stories of triumph.” Lagertha holds Kara at arm's length a moment longer, a warm motherly smile on her face. Kara heads out, nodding to Bjorn on his way to say his own farewells, he is obviously frustrated with Ivar. Reaching the docks, you see Hvitserk tying sail lines tighter with Floki, spotting her he vaults off the side of the boat immediately. Every time she sees him, it reminds her of a child, she wonders how after all that he has done and been through that he can still act like a carefree boy. He takes her hand leading her on the boat. He’s rambling on about something.

“Kára? Kára.” Hvitserk is shaking her shoulder, she snaps back, looking up at him. He gestures to her pack and shield, handing the shield over he flips it over to look at Lagertha’s crest painted on it, he raises a brow at it but still hooks it on the side of the boat beside his own. She places her pack beside his, he’s been watching her, confused be her expression. “Nervous?” she gave a small nod; his finger follows the gold paint down her cheek. “You have no need to be.” A smile blooms on her face. At that moment Staðr jumps between them, barking for attention.

“He followed me.” Bjorn comes up to them. “Bring him. A wolf will strike fear into the hearts of the Saxons. And will be an excellent scout.” Kára takes a knee as she whispers to the mutt, as Bjorn heads to Floki.

“Baby! Could not stay away, could you?” rubbing his ears, Staðr bumps his head against hers.

“This mutt enjoys getting between us” Hvitserk smirks. Staðr barks in response and jumps up on Hvitserk. Staðr paws sitting on Hvitserk’s broad shoulders easily. His hands come up to scratch the mongrel’s ears and then shoves him down. The rest of the vikings around them eye the wolf nervously. “Let’s be on our way.”

As night falls, Kára sat at the rear of the boat with Floki, her cloak pulled tight around to ward off the cold ocean breeze.

“Hvitserk tells me the Gods have chosen you for him” giggled Floki.

“You would know, Floki, beloved of the gods.” Her eyes follow Hvitserk’s arms as the pull and push the oar steadily. Staðr slept curled up, radiating heat, in front of her. “But I cannot deny there is something the gods want from us. They will test us it seems.”

“As they do, I would say you would feel my wrath should anything happen to the boy, but I am more concerned for you.” She turns back to Floki now, looking at him to continue. “Hvitserk is lovable, he has Ragnar’s heart. But his darkness too.” Her head tilts waiting for Floki to elaborate.

“Bjorn told me many stories of you Floki, you and Ragnar. You loved Ragnar. So, you love them.” She jerks her head to Lothbrok men scattered about the boat.

“I do, but I love Lagertha too and Lagertha loves you. So, I will warn you. He smiles and plays but that is not all he is. Ubbe may look like Ragnar, but Hvitserk, he has Ragnar’s protectiveness. If he cares for you, he will go to the ends of the earth to keep you. I cannot stop the gods for whatever it is you must face. But I do not want you to suffer needlessly.” Floki reaches and barely touches her forehead with his fingertips. “Perhaps you will make him a better Viking.” Hvitserk plops down beside her. Pulling her close under his arm, his natural warmth welcoming.

“Who is a better Viking?” Hvitserk asks. He tugs the other end of his cloak to cover his legs.

“Hopefully you now that you have a woman!” Floki giggles again, kicking Hvitserk’s outstretched legs.

“Since when has he ever been a Viking, to begin with?” Ivar crawls over and props himself up opposite them.

“I have seen more battles than you little brother” Hvitserk gives Ivar the stink eye.

“And what of all the woman you’ve had?” Ivar gaze shifts to Kára now, having his fun at her expense. Everyone knows of Hvitserk’s womanizing. Hvitserk’s body stiffens at Ivar’s comment anyway. Kára’s eyes narrow at Ivar.

“They could try coming near him now, I will cut them down where they stand.” She snarled. Hvitserk is smirking now, watching her be possessive of him warmed him.

“I would believe her, Ivar” says Floki as he turns the steer away from himself “you know better than to antagonize a shield maiden. Leave them both be, you brat.”

When shores of England came into sight, Kára leans over the shields, she watches with wonder. There are moments when Hvitserk questions how her mind works. She is still a mystery to him, cold as ice one moment, childlike bewilderment next like she is working too hard hide herself. He wants to know everything about her. He cannot yet. He cannot be distracted. First, he and his brother’s will have their revenge. Then he will see about Kára.

The sons of Ragnar gather around the fire with Harald, Halfdan, and Floki as Kára comes back from a scout, Staðr trotting along beside her. Bjorn spots her and motions her over.

“How long?”

“Two days, they’ll reach the field to the northwest of here at the sun's peak. They are a small party. They will not expect our numbers” She rounds the group behind Bjorn to join Hvitserk leaning against the tree, snagging the piece of salted pork from his hand. He gives her a playful stink-eye.

“The field?”

“The road curves to come around on the other side of this wood, where I assume they will come from, in between there is some hill, we would hold the high ground if we make our mark between the hills. Our back covered by the wood.” Bjorn tosses her an apple as she finishes.

“Good, we’ll meet them in battle there. Harald, have your men take the side closer to camp, Floki will take the other. Tomorrow we will have our revenge.” Kára snatches Hvitserk’s cup and downs his drink before he can say anything. Walking away she tosses it over her shoulder back at him. She’s been teasing him for weeks now since they left Kattegat. She rests a hand on Bjorn’s shoulder before heading in search of dinner. Staðr rubbing against Bjorn as he passes by to follow his mistress.

Kára enters the tent later to find Hvitserk face down on the blanket. He insisted that she stay with him. Seeing their things mingled together made her warm inside. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing or saying with him right now. His mother had been killed by the woman who now ruled Kattegat, the woman who had her loyalty. His father left when he was young and now they were avenging his death. All she could do was support Hvitserk, she didn’t know how to do that. While both of them had spent time together, they had yet to actually talk about anything important. Most of their time was spent with others on a boat or here at camp always surrounded his brothers or other Vikings.

“Hvitserk?” she whispers, she cautiously reaches out. His hand snaps out grabbing her and flipping her down, so he can sit astride her, his body pinning her down. His face buried in her neck, inhaling her scent.

“After we blood eagle Aelle, tomorrow,” He murmurs into her shoulder. “I’ll have you.” There is heat to his voice, a grind in his tone the lights a fire in her.

“Yes,” she answers huskily. He trails light kisses up her neck, she hums, stretching her neck giving him more access. He follows her jawline up to lips, pressing hard against hers. Possessively. His tongue teases the seam of her mouth for entry, opening her mouth she sucks his lower lip into her mouth, biting, teasing him in return. Their tongues meeting, playing with each other. He pulls away, making Kára whimper for the loss of his lips. Instead, he presses hot kisses down her neck now, his lips linger on her pulse point feeling her heart race. His hands are unbuckling her vest, hands move into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, tugging the roots hard. His lips have continued lower, using his teeth he pulled her shirt tie open to trace her collarbone with his tongue “Hvitserk” she gasps, her throaty tone exactly what he wants to hear. Her want. To crack her perfect mask that’s been in place too long. Only for him to see. To have her beg for him. His hands sneak under her shirt, warm and large against her midriff. Rough but firm. His fingers grip her hips tight as his hips bear down on her. She can feel his cock pressed against her belly. With a last taste of her nape, he pulls back.

“Tomorrow.” His breathing is laboured. Staring her in the eye, he can barely see the blue irises, just a small ring of them. “I’ll stay with Ubbe tonight.” He heaves himself of her body. Before he can leave she pulls him back.

“Stay.” Her striking eyes begging. “You said you would stay, always.” His face softens, nodding, leaning down he unbuckles his boots, taking his time to regain some rational thought and his breath. Standing straight he finds she’s already divested her armour and breeches. Watching her toss clothes aside, he yanks the shirt over his head. Her now bare legs, stare back at him, she shifts to one side pulling the blankets towards them. Crawling over her he flops down on his back beside her. She pulls the blanket they share under her arms, she tucks her head into her elbow as she turns to face him. Desire still hangs in the air as they settle in. “Why are you so patient with me?” she asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“You could have your way with any woman Hvitserk, everyone knows it. Yet, you have not with me. You take what you want. Always. Like you have no control.” Her hand creeps to trace the ink on his shoulder.

“I do take what I want.” Pulling her leg over his waist “I will have it.” His hand travels up to cup her rear. “I only want you.” Her body is flush against his “and will have you.” He squeezes her arse. “do not doubt that.” He’s nibbling on her neck again. Sighing she relaxes into him. His arms tighten around her. “You test my patience, but I will not have you go to someone else. It will be worth the time waiting. ”

“Are you ready for your revenge?” She changes the subject instead. rolling on his back, Kára rests her head on his chest, letting out a breath she feels the light touch of his lips on her forehead.

“Yes. It will be most satisfying.” Anyone could hear the grin in his voice. They lie in the comfort of each other. The once pregnant silence was not so deafening any more Kára notes.

“I heard stories of him, growing up.” She tilts her head up to see his reaction. He gives nothing away, instead continues to stare at the top of the tent. Her foot rubs his leg, waiting for him to respond. He just clutches her leg tighter. “The way I saw him, he was a good father to his sons, but not to the men he needed to raise.” He snorts.

“He will still be avenged. Leave it be. Sleep now.” He squeezes her close pressing his lips to her head, inhaling her welcome scent.

Tags: @zombienaomi, @anarchy-is-coming @lol-haha-joke, @zombienaomi, @anarchy-is-coming, @lisinfleur, @romanchronicles , @oddsnendsfanfics, @readsalot73, @vikingalexthedane @thevikingsheaux @laughinglikenialler @messycurlsmessydreams

#Vikings #Vikings Fanfiction #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #Hvitserks Heathen Feast #Hvitserk Lothbrok #Hvitserk's Valkyrie #OC #Hvitserk Imagine

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