#the question is does Ubbe do what’s right?

[ritual-unions]

Ilona has always known her duty - marry a king, have many children and make the gods proud. She agrees to marry Ivar the Boneless, King of Kattegat, to save her family and her village so that he might lift the siege imposed on her hometown. She is resigned to her fate, knowing she must do what is best for her people, that is until she meets Ivar’s oldest brother, Ubbe and everything changes.

[literaryuppsala]

Hvitserk and His Princess

Notes: This is a part II for hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven) and I wasn't thinking of making a part II but since i've been asked so nicely to do It, here I am. Took me long enough to finish cause I was in the middle of something, adult life getting in my writer's way, I'm sorry about that. It's not over but I'm back. Thank you for your patience and please, don't stop sending asks, i'll answer to all of them.

for the beautiful nikaprincessofkattegat and alyssalucas8 who asked for the part II in the comments.

Warnings: no smut, but still +18 with a little violence in it.

One day, almost a lifetime ago, you asked Hvitserk If he would make you happy and he promised you that was the only thing he would do. Back then you only believed in duty, in doing what was expected from you, that’s why you ended up in Kattegat in the first place, happiness was a dream you once had as a child, not something you imagined would be part of your life. But as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your swollen frame you were immediately filled with a warm feeling, something you could only take as true happiness.

You leaned against the body behind you and felt his hands rubbing against your tiny bump, pressing you against his chest while spreading kisses all over your shoulder and neck, you smiled to yourself letting your body be surrounded by his presence, his scent and the sense of safety he brought to you, making you sigh. 

“You missed me.” He whispered into your ear. 

“I did. Very much.” You joked. “But you missed me more.”

“You are absolutely right.” He said, turning you between his arms and making you look at him. “How are my girls doing?”

“You are terribly sure it’s a girl.” You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What If it’s a boy? Will you love him the same?”

“Stupid question, I love him already.” He pulled you in and kissed you quickly. 

The days around Hvitserk were easy to live, he would never leave you alone, always checking on you, checking if you were feeling alright. And since you found out you were with child he became more clingy, his hands always on your body, especially on your bump. He would rub and kiss the skin, if he could, he would keep you naked all the time so he could keep an eye on both of his girls. 

“How was the meeting with your brothers?” You asked, still attached to his body. 

“Boring.” He whispered back, kissing you again, but something changed in his demeanor, at the mention of his brothers he stirred. 

“You have something to tell me.” You insisted, moving away from his insistent kisses. 

“Is there anything I can hide from you?” He asked with a frown, hands traveling down your body to hold a firm grip on your hips, you denied.

“You’re trying to distract me.” You said with a pout and he sighed. 

“Bjorn is going to Frankia. He asked me to go with him.”

Your face contorted immediately and you tried to let go of him, but he didn’t let you, keeping you between his arms. You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“I suppose you didn’t like It.” He told you with a smirk.

“I don’t want you to lose the birth of your child.” You answered angrily.

“I know. But he’s my brother and he needs me.” 

“What about Sigurd and Ubbe? What about Ivar?” 

“We’re all going.” He pressed his hands on your hips, pulling you in a little more. “We’re going to see Rollo.”

“Does he need all of you to do that?” 

“It’s expected from the sons of Ragnar to rule together, even though Bjorn is the king.”

“I don’t agree.” 

He hugged you and eventually you corresponded, hugging him back, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. He kissed the crown of your head several times, pulling you tight. 

“Is It dangerous?”

“No, It’s just talking.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Come back to me.”

“I will.” 

He left on a sunny day, you waited in the pier until the boat vanished on the horizon and everyone else was already gone, you looked away without knowing what you were really expecting, for him to change his mind and come back already or for the time to pass quickly, but not too quickly, not enough for your baby to be born without his father around. 

“He won’t be here.” Her voice startled you and you looked behind to find Margrethe looking straight at you with a mid smirk. 

You didn’t answer, walking away from her while she kept repeating and yelling ‘he won’t be here’. 

‘Crazy Margrethe’ was her name now, and since Ubbe finally left her, Hvitserk was the only one who still had a soft spot for her, found her a house outside of town and would go check on her every now and then. You wished you’d feel sorry for her, but she never changed her attitude towards you, in fact It only got worse with time. Your husband would tell you to brush It off and forget about It, but she got particularly mean since you got pregnant using every opportunity she had to hurt you. 

Ubbe was now married to Torvi who separated from Bjorn when he married Gunnhild. It was confusing at first, but after so much time with them you learned that they would do anything they wanted. Ivar and Freydis finally had their child, named him Baldur. Torvi and Ubbe were expecting their first child while Hali and Asa grew stronger each day. You learned to love them as your own family, cared for them and felt protected with them, but when It came to Margrethe they couldn’t do much. 

“Leave me alone.” You mumbled, walking away faster but listening to her footsteps following you. 

“He won’t be here.” She repeated and you grunted, entering the great hall to find Torvi and Freydis inside, they quickly noticed your presence and came to you. 

Raising your hand you held Torvi’s and let the woman bring you close, she hugged you while Freydis stepped in front of you both. 

“Go home Margrethe.” Freydis warned, startling little Baldur in her arms who immediately started to cry. 

“This is my home!” She walked inside. 

“Not anymore.” Torvi said, quickly pushing you behind her. 

“You stole my family, you stole my husband, you’re a witch!” She ran towards you but was stopped in her tracks by one of Gunnhild’s men, who held her and prevented her from getting close. 

“Take her to her house.” Gunnhild’s voice came from behind you, making the three of you look back. “Make sure she won’t leave for a while.” 

She was taken out screaming and trashing while Torvi turned to you, holding your face between her hands while silently checking on you.

“I’m alright.” You reassured, holding her hands that were still on your face. “I’m alright, Torvi.” You repeated. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” Gunnhild tried to comfort you. 

“I’ll talk to Ivar.” Freydis grunted, sitting back where she was while leaving Baldur sitting at her feet, playing with a few toys. “When he comes back, I’ll talk to him.”

“The solution will be to kill her.” You sighed, sitting next to Freydis. 

“Exactly. Is that a problem?” She frowned.

“Hvitserk would never forgive me If I agreed with that.”

“You deal with Margrethe everyday, this isn’t right.” Freydis insisted. “And you’re pregnant, your child should be his priority, not her.” 

“We are his priority. But he cares for her too… And I don’t want her to die either…” 

“You’re just like him. Ivar would never allow this to happen, nor with me nor with Baldur. Hvitserk should end this.” 

You kept thinking about what Freydis said, slightly angry about how she was so certain Ivar would kill Margrethe for her and about how this sounded so appealing to you. You didn’t want to deal with her craziness anymore, but did you want her death? You weren’t sure, there was a battle going on inside you between this part of you and the one who respected your husband’s wishes. 

The time was passing, months were passing, your tiny bump grew bigger everyday and so did your anxiety about Hvitserk not coming back in time to watch your baby’s birth. One night, as the lightning cut through the sky the silver light illuminated your whole house and you were awake by the sound of thunder. It was a hard storm, you could hear the thick raindrops against your ceiling and the whistle of the wind through the cracks of your walls. The first ounce of pain made you grunt and you shrunk into yourself like a wounded animal.

“No, no, no, not now.” You mumbled to yourself. 

You sat against the headboard and looked around. You were alone in your house, against everyone’s wishes. They begged you to stay with them since you were in the final stages of your pregnancy but you couldn’t accept the fact that you would give birth while Hvitserk was away, you wanted to believe you still had time. The first tears flooded the corner of your eyes and left wet trails on your cheeks on their way down your face, you felt hopeless. 

“God, help me.” You prayed for the first time since you married, embarrassed to even ask for His help after so much time. “Please help my child.” 

Like an answer to your prayers you heard footsteps outside your house, for a moment you felt happy, imagining to be someone to help you, but as Margrethe’s face showed up on your window you, another painful contraction hit you hard making you grunt. 

“Told you he wouldn’t be here.” She growled, another lightning illuminated her face showing you a victorious smirk as she looked at you. 

“Leave me alone.” You sighed, using your strength to get up and walk towards the door. 

As you opened, her body showed up in front of you holding your shoulders and pushing you inside, making you lose balance and fall behind. You widened your eyes, looking at her. 

“You can’t do this.” You murmured, holding your bump protectively.

“You stole my family. You don’t deserve to have your own.” She growled again, walking towards you as you crawled back. 

“Hvitserk will never forgive you.” You insisted. “If you do something to his child, he won’t forgive you.” 

“We can have many children of our own.” 

“But this one…He wants this one!” You felt your back against the wall and she crouched in front of you, her hands grabbed your knees and closed your legs.

“You won’t have this child.” 

“Get off me!” You tried to get rid of her hands but she kept holding you firmly. 

“You won’t have this child!” She repeated and you cried loudly, another contraction spreaded the pain from your belly to your lower back and to your legs. 

“Please, don’t do this.” You murmured. 

“Why would the gods bless you so much and leave me nothing?” She asked angrily, still keeping your legs shut. “Why do you deserve happiness more than me?”

“Keep the child!” You yelled through the storm. “Raise him as your own If you must, do to me as you will, but keep the child!” 

“I would never keep this child. I can have many children of my own!” 

“Please! He will hate you…” You gasped. “Hvitserk will hate you forever.”

“He’ll forget all about you and this child. Eventually.” 

Your screams mixed with the noise outside your house and one more time you looked around, helpless, that’s when you saw one of the many pots you had around the house. You quickly grabbed one of them and hit it against Margrethe’s head who fell dizzy to the side. You took this opportunity to try and crawl away from your house, using all your strength to get up and leave. You stumbled through the storm, trying to walk as fast as you could towards the great hall, while protectively holding your bump. Eventually, Margrethe, who left the house right behind you, reached you and jumped your body, both of you falling over the muddy ground. 

“Help!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Somebody, help!” 

“Shut your mouth. You witch! You’re a witch!” She screamed back, holding you down and trying to crawl up on your body. 

Another lightning cut through the sky as you felt someone lift her from the top of you. You widened your eyes and raised your head to see her body being dragged away from you. The rain clouded your vision and before you knew it, another person grabbed you by your arms. 

“Let’s go!” You heard a scream and looked at the person holding you. Torvi. 

“She was trying to kill me…” You mumbled, leaning against her body. 

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.” She took you inside and helped you get comfortable on the bed, the furs around you got immediately damp. 

“Save my child, save me child.” You babbled, holding onto Torvi’s arms, dizzy by the pain. 

“We’ll save both of you!” She mumbled before turning to the door.

You were scared, hair glued to your wet face, clothes damp attached to your skin. Freydis came in and sat behind you using her own body to support yours. Torvi grabbed your knees and held your legs opened, you cried louder when the pain hit you again. 

“Freydis…” You grunted as you felt her hand on your damp forehead. 

“Alright, time to push.” She warned. 

“I c-can’t.” You mumbled feeling exhausted.

“You can. You will. Push.” She insisted, helping you, slightly pushing your body forward. “Go. Push.” 

You used the rest of your body strength to keep pushing, while Freydis helped you doing the same with your back, pushing your body forward. Your chest was aching with the amount of pressure on your body, your heart was beating so loud you could listen to it inside of your head, you felt like your body was almost separating in two. You cried, loudly. 

“I CAN’T DO THS!” You screamed in agony.

“You have to!” Torvi insisted, touching your belly to teu and feel the child. “Push!”

Freydis pressed your body and you growled, pushing forward. 

“Let’s go princess, you’re stronger than you think.” She insisted, pushing you forward one more time. 

Torvi grabbed your knees keeping your legs opened, mumbling small prayers while you cried in pain and grunted as you pushed again and again and again until you did it one more time, with all your strength and you could finally hear the first cry filling your ears. 

“That’s It. She’s here! She’s here!” You heard an excited Torvi and your heart almost stopped when you learned it was a girl. 

Freydis hand rested on your chest as she happily praised you, her voice was the last thing you heard bafore everything went completely dark. 

When you woke up again it was already morning, the storm was gone but so was everybody, you were alone. You sat up with the help of your hands but your throat was dry, you couldn’t call for anyone. You felt overwhelmed, your heart started to hammer inside your chest, for the first time in your life you were terrified to be alone, to be without your daughter.

But before you broke down in tears you heard footsteps outside the room, when the door opened Torvi showed up, the small bundle of furs inside her arms and you immediately smiled, leaning against the headboard and leaving a small space for her to sit by your side, when she did, she was smiling too, carefully handing you the baby. 

“She is perfect.” Torvi mumbled.

And she was. You carefully held her tiny hand, kissing while counting her fingers, you rubbed her face and payed attention to every detail, her pointy nose, heart shaped lips and small eyes, beautifully gray. You checked her belly, her legs and her feet, counting her toes just like you did with her fingers. 

“He said It was a girl.” You murmured, still looking at your daughter. 

“He was right.” 

Torvi touched your face and you looked at her, the pain finally showing in your eyes. 

“He lost it. He promised he would be here, but he isn’t.” You started. “She was right.” 

“Don’t do that.” She scolded. “It doesn’t matter what she said, your daughter is here, she’s safe and so are you. Hvitserk will be here, but you can’t think about him now, you have to think about her, and yourself.”

“What happened to her?”

“She ran away.” 

That was the only answer you got, eventually you stopped asking. The first year of your daughter was an adjustment, your heart still waiting for him, but you learned very quickly you had more important things to deal with. Torvi helped you name her: Sif and she grew strong, a mini-Hvitserk with green eyes, thin lips and light brown hair. Looking at her helped you in some way, she reminded you of him, of how much you missed him, and how much you loved him, so deep that it materialized on that tiny human. 

A while ago, you heard from a few people in town that they’d be calling you both ‘Hvitserk and his princess’ and you smiled like a fool every time you thought about It, you were his. 

“Mama!” She screamed with a laugh, running around the great hall with Baldur chasing her. 

You looked at them and smiled, waving at her, your eyes traveled around, from your daughter, to the walls, to the fire flames that kept the place warm. You blinked tired, It was getting late. 

“Sweetheart, let’s go.” You called, getting up and walking towards your daughter. 

“Stay here tonight.” Gunnhild showed up, asking you calmly. “It’s too cold to walk home with her.”

“I’ll be living here with you If we stay like this.”

“Why not? Torvi and Freydis are already here, you are welcome to stay too.” 

“Thank you, but I like my home. It reminds me of him.” Sif ran to you and held the skirt of your dress. “We’ll be here in the morning.” You cradled her in your arms. “Say ‘bye bye’.” You murmured, kissing her chubby cheeks when she waved. 

“Bye bye.” She repeated with a smile. 

You eventually left, walking back home with your baby in your arms while she babbled about her day with Baldur, the things he showed her. Your eyes followed the path towards the pier and you sighed, stopping in your tracks to watch from afar, imagining his boat docking at any time. You missed him, you missed him so much. 

“Father.” She whispered, pointing at the pier.

“Yeah, that’s where he’s coming from.” You smiled at her and kissed her again. 

She didn’t know him but you spent a lot of time talking to her about her father, telling stories, telling her how much he loved her and how much he wanted her, even before she was born.

“Father.” She repeated and you smiled again, this time you looked back at the pier just to find a boat approaching.

Your eyes widened and you froze. It couldn’t be. You lost hope so many years ago you couldn’t believe your eyes. You put her on the ground and held her hand firmly, ready to come back running to the great hall. 

The people started to leave the boat. Dark silhouettes poorly illuminated by the full moon in the sky. You covered your mouth with your hand and turned around, you were about to start running when a deeply familiar voice called your name through the night. You stopped on your tracks and turned again. He repeated. And shouted loudly while running towards you.

When his arms wrapped around your body you froze again, in utter shock. He pulled you in, held your face against his shoulders but your only movement was to tight the grip around your daughter’s hand. 

“My love.” He mumbled, holding your face in his hands and staring directly into your eyes. Your vision was blurred but it focused on his face eventually. His voice was a sizzle from afar, unintelligible, his touch had a strange familiarity that scared you at first. “It’s me, look at me.” He begged in panic, but the one thing to wake you up was your daughter’s voice.

“MAMA!” She screamed and you blinked, looking down to her scared little face. “No hurt mama!” She insisted, using her hands to push him to the side, that’s when he finally left you and crouched in front of her.

When you looked at him there were tears in his eyes, he looked at her with adoration and she held onto the skirt of your dress. He looked up and you finally felt the true happiness you missed so much, you felt the tears coating your face and you sighed in relief, with a smile on your face you told him:

“Sif. Her name is Sif.” 

[allinestarr]

Masterlist

Vikings 

Hvitserk Lothbrok x fem reader 

Cursed: y/n was cursed from the day she was born. Unable to live past 18 if she does not find true love. This hidden from her by her own father. As the time approaches she must make a decision, find her true love or die doing the only thing she ever loved.

Cursed Complete Masterlist

Ubbe Lothbrok x fem reader

Bound: After a visit to the seer Ubbe leaves with more questions then answers. He doesn’t know what the future holds but he knows you must be by his side. You on the other hand only came to repay a debt, one to his father. When its over, you find you can’t leave just yet.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Bjorn Ironside x fem reader 

Ruthless: Queen y/n was a force to be reckoned with. After hearing about Ragnar Lothbrok’s death by the hands of the filthy Saxons she only had one thing in mind, war. It was not because they killed him she wanted so, it was because they had done the same to her father. y/n’s conquests were well known, unlike her own identity. They all assumed this “war lord” was a strong dangerous man but to no ones knowledge but her trusted soldiers and right hand, it was there own queen. So when a woman shows up to Kattegat pledging her allegiance to kill there common enemy, will they show her the respect she deserves? 

Part 1

Part 2

(ALL VIKINGS ON HIATUS UNLESS REQUESTED)

Shadowhunters 

Alec Lightwood x fem reader

Competitive: After y/n’s parents died during a hunt the Lightwoods took her in. Izzy and y/n were inseparable. They were more like sisters than friends so it was no surprise they decide to become parabatai. Now Alec and y/n, that was a different story. They hated each other and always competed to be the best. One day y/n takes it to far and there was no turning back. 

Competitive Masterlist

[slxthxrxn-sxmp]

How the Ragnarssons Would React to You Being a Warrior

*Warnings- talks of sex, drinking, suggestive nature, this one also has talks violence

(As always gifs are not mine and I do not claim credit for them. Thank you to the creators !)

Bjorn Ironside :

- Not saying it would a requirement but . . . . you know it would definitely help your relationship if you can hold you own in battle - If you both met on the battle field fighting for the same cause UUGHHH he would be swooning - Personally I feel like y'all he would realize his feelings for you during Paris, if you were there *hint hint* - Now all this being said he would still prefer for you to stay close to his side - This man would have such a protective instinct over you I swear to the gods - Bjorn would also gift you a necklace with mjolnir as well as protective metal garb with runes of the gods blessed at Uppsala - Before every battle he wouldn't voice his worries or that he loves you he would simply place his hands on your face and rest his forehead on yours <3

Ubbe :

- I say this with my whole chest HE IS LOOKING RESPECTFULLY - This man would see you as an equal and even ask you for battle strategies when the time comes - Whether you two are together platonic ally, romantically, etc. he would always make sure to give you something of his so you have to return it to him after the battle ("If you don't I will drag you from the halls of the gods and kill you myself" He would have that signature smirk that he got from his father lmao) - Eventually if you start giving him stuff of your own before battle he would be over the moon and you would be lucky if he doesn't propose right then and there - He is a man of words and action so directly after the fighting has ceased would search for you and then engulf you in his arms talking of how great you were and How proud the gods are of all those who fought along side y'all

Hvitserk

- Kinda feel like this man would be fairly indifferent. Don't get me wrong, hes proud ( a wee bit confused) such a person would choose to be with him gods he'd nearly drop over dead but other than that its business as usual - Perhaps it would allow him to feel comfy with being more rough when it comes to your sex life if you know what I mean - Now we all know that this poor man has a drinking problem annnnnd after every battle victorious or not you both will go drinking mead . . . . eventually you of course would have to cut him off - While drinking though you guys would be sloppily tending to each others wounds - Cuddlying will ensue no questions asked (he prefers being little spoon but does not mind having you laying on top of him attached like a little Koala)

Sigurd

- Now lets get this all sorted Sigurd doesn't love physical confrontation unlike some of his brothers *couch* Ivar *cough* BUT he would find it so hot when you have that after battle look (as long as you're not injured of course) when you are covered in sweat and blood - Don't ask if he does though because he will fiercely deny it - Once everything is said and done you can bet he will tackle you with the most passionate hug and kisses no matter who is watching - When that is finally out of his system he'll take you to get a bath where he'll scrub you down while humming a song he can't quite remember then he will "graciously" let you clean him up too

Ivar the Boneless

- I am going to politely say this once and I will not be repeating myself Ivar will have you on his side if you are a good fighter we all witnessed what with Bishop Heahmund - But seriously if you are true to him and loyal (though if we are being honest with each other he is just suspicious everyones loyalty no matter who they are) he really could not give a damn - Well that is what he'd tell you but every once in a while he might just bring you to where he is standing away from the battle purely for strategical reasons of course - Off the field this man will give you tips and even train with you. Teaching you how to fight like him, to be sly, to be quick, and to think on your feet - Now as amazing as this all sounds there is the downside of having to calm him down when hes angry and even fighting some of his personal battles like when someone gives him a tough time. I believe its fair to say that you can get protective over him even if he doesn't need your protection

Ragnar the Younger

- Kinda like Bjorn I'm not gonna say its a requirement that you are fighter however you know it won't hurt you know - Now as I am sure we are all aware family is so important to Ragnar so if you are fighting for his family's cause be it Uthreds, his own, or his fathers he would already admire you - Gods if you are ever put in a positions where you saved his life hed be like well damn guess I have found the one and he would be eternally grateful - He's the type of person who would allow you to have your own life and he will have his and you both will meet in the middle and if suddenly in life you decide hey I want to be a badass warrior he would more than willing to help you train and then let you be on your merry way (he is proud of you do not worry) - After every battle cue him frantically searching the field praying to Tyr and Thor and Odin and Freyja and whoever that would listen that you were alive and when he finds you expect to his a bright smile despite his physical state

Uthred of Bebbanburg

- He has a thing for warriors. No questions. - Uthred will playfully fight you and even jokingly challenge to draw the square for a duel. Gods help you if you accept, he will not go easy on you and if you think he would you are wrong. - If you have sworn your sword to him, he would treat you as a friend, a companion. He would even see you as someone he could trust with his life seeking you out for advice (even when he didn't need it) - Now if you had sworn your sword to someone else and you were a good warrior he will stand with you to the best of his ability. IF said person was King Alfred you and him would be attached by the hip - Idk if you all know that one scene in star wars with Kylo and Rey

- this scene this is how you both would fight, together and in unison

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings + curls and afros

Summary: how would the Vikings react to seeing their friend/partner/... with an afro/big curls for the first time after taking their braids ouut

A/N: I’m so honored that you feel comfy with requesting this from me anon <3

Had to do some research, and I hope I got everything right :) if there’s something off, please correct me in the comments/reblogs

Tagged: @bragisrunes, @demon-of-the-ancient-world, @alicedopey

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Ragnar

He kinda jumps when he turns around and sees you for the first time

(probably bc he’s high and didn’t realize what was occurring)

He’s one of those annoying people who just touch your hair without permission

So many questions, so unintentionally disrespectful

Lagertha

So in awe of your curls

She loves her hair and loves braiding it

But she’s blonde and white so volume does not exist to her

Will ask you if she can braid it the next time you want it braided

Greatest viking x afro hairstyles

Bjorn

He cannot comprehend

How does your hair just… do that?

It looks so normal when it’s braided and then it’s just suddenly so big and pretty

In absolute awe

He can appreciate art when he sees it

Ubbe

Also very fascinated

Asks you to explain different hairtypes to him

Makes a joke about wanting kids with your type of hair

Highkey thinks you look stunning with your curls

Asks you to never braid your hair again

Hvitserk

Doesn’t notice at first

He’s too busy eating something, but then he sees your hair out of the corner of his eye

And boom, he can’t stop staring

Thinks curls are super cool

Asks if there’s any way he can get them

Don’t tell him abt perms. He tries to do it to himself

Sigurd

I totally agree that Sigurd would be very jealous

Listens to your explanation, is still unsatisfied and wants volume

Tries to tease his hair endlessly

He gets a little more volume, but it’s raining that day

Steps outside for two seconds, ends up looking like a wet poodle

Ivar

Also slightly obsessed with your hair

He offers to get you any products you might need after he learns that curly hair needs a different kind of care

he’s someone who hoards knowledge like a dragon gold, so you can teach him just about everything about afros, curls and their history

gets angry on your behalf when people behave disrespectfully

Torvi

another queen of braids who will beg you to let her do your next hairdo

wants to learn about different hair textures and how curls work

she’s interested in how you manage an afro in day-to-day life – I think especially in viking life afros might be a little difficult to manage

she realizes that the climate is very damaging to your hair and searches through her own stock of hair care to help you

very sweet

[nanahachikyuu]

van gogh's sunflowers // modern!hvitserk x reader

Summary: your long-time friend, Freydis, calls you to vent about her relationship with her boyfriend Ivar, and your brother-in-law, no less. Not wanting to intrude, but still wishing to help your dearest friend, you talk about your relationship with Hvitserk, and all the moments that make you certain he is the only one for you.

Pairing: hvitserk x reader

Type: one-shot

Warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual inuendo

Word count: 3.465

Music insp.: Girassóis de Van Gogh by Baco Exu do Blues (I’m back with another Brazilian artist).

A/N:

you will not find any Freydis hate on this blog

everything in italic is a flashback

brief explanation about the title: “When I say, ‘I get you pregnant every night just to see the sun rise’, it's like saying I need something to hold on to so I can live. Life is very urgent, in a hurry to happen. And when I talk about haste I automatically think of Van Gogh's sunflowers, who had the thing about him painting so fast that he could draw the sunflower perfectly before the sunflower stained.” (Baco Exu do Blues about his song “Girassóis de Van Gogh)

Gentle reminder that English is not my first language, and this was not proofread.

The sound of your cellphone ringing echoes through the house. Setting down the laundry basket in your arms, you rush to answer it, thinking it could be an emergency – who would call someone else when a simple text could suffice, in case it wasn’t urgent.

As you pick up your phone, the name “Freydis”, your best friend, flashes on the screen, accompanied by a picture of the both of you on your bachelorette party a few months back, making you smile fondly at the memory as you accept the call.

“Hi, Blondie! Is everything ok?” you ask, sitting on a stool by the kitchen island.

“No, it’s not! I me-“, she starts, but you interrupt her, already alarmed.

“What happened? Are you alright? Did something happen to Ivar?” you ask one question after the other, not giving the other woman a chance to answer any of them.

“That prick is more than fine” Freydis answers angrily.

She doesn’t need to articulate any further for you to understand what had happened. Better yet, who happened. Freydis had been dating Ivar, your brother-in-law nonetheless, for almost a year now, and to say their relationship was a rollercoaster was to put it mildly.

Taking a deep breath, you immediately regret your choice of seating, realizing this was bound to be a very long phone call.

“By the gods, woman. Don’t scare me like that” you scold. “It’s not good for the baby”.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… wait, are you telling me you’re pregnant? I’m your best friend and future godmother to this baby, and this is how you choose to tell me the news?”.

“Chill, blondie! I’m not pregnant, I swear. It was just a joke”.

“Then it’s not funny at all. Ivar is right, you know, Hvitserk is not a good influence on you, you prick”

“I thought Ivar was the prick”.

“Well, he is!” she exclaims, suddenly remembering who she was truly mad at.

“So, you want to tell me what happened, or…”

“I think Ivar’s going to break up with me” she exclaims, suddenly.

“What? Has he said anything?”, you ask, truly surprised by the news. This was not the conversation you were expecting, at all.

“No, not really. It’s just that…” she cuts herself, and you can hear her taking a deep breath through the speaker.

“Then what made you believe he’s about to end your relationship?”.

“It’s just… He’s been so distant lately, so closed off. Last night, we barely said a word to each, and he didn’t even stay over, said he should sleep at his place, something about having plans with his brothers or whatever”.

“Babes, you know Ivar better than anyone. He has his moments, like everyone else does. And for what is worth, the Ragnarssons did have plans for the day. I didn’t even get to see Hvitty this morning before Ubbe picked him up”.

“That has never stopped him before. But anyways, it wasn’t just yesterday. I feel like he’s pulling away from me. Ivar used to be so open, he’d share everything with me, and even if he had acted like this before, it was never this bad”.

“Look, I really don’t believe it’s my place to intrude. You’re my best friend, but Ivar is Hvitserk’s brother, we’re family. And also, I don’t want him to feel like we’re ganging up on him”.

“Yeah, I get that, and I don’t want to put you in this position either. But you’re the only person I have to talk about this with”.

“It’s ok, Blondie”, you sigh. “Can I ask you something?”.

“Sure…”.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to ask: do you see a future with Ivar?”.

You give her some time to gather her thoughts as you stand from the stool and walk to the couch, setting yourself more comfortably. You notice Hvitserk left a hoodie hidden between the cushions and you pick it up to dress it. His musky smell immediately envelopes you, making you feel a lot more relaxed than you were moments before – and much more ready to face this conversation with Freydis. You loved your friend deeply, but she needed to get a hold of her feelings for the youngest Ragnarsson soon, before both of them had their hearts broken.

“I love him, y/n. I really do”.

“I know that, sweetie. But that’s not what I asked. Let me put it this way – do you love Ivar enough to see a future with him? Sometimes people can mistake love for passion or lust, and even though that’s also important, when separated the result might not be pretty”.

“What do you mean?”.

“I believe there’s a difference between passion and love, sweetie. Whereas passion can be fleeting, love has the power to be everlasting. If you believe that your feelings towards Ivar are momentaneous, perhaps you should reassess your relationship. But I guess the first question still is do you love him? If the answer is yes, then that’s all the encouragement you need to work, and not fight, never fight, for what you have”.

She takes a moment to answer, and when she does her voice is heavy with emotion.

“Ivar is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes upon, his blue eyes are more than gorgeous, they carry so much emotion, and sometimes when he’s looking at me, I feel like he could see my soul. But he’s not just his good looks. He’s also extremely intelligent, sometimes too intelligent for his own good. He’s very kind, even if sometimes he tries to hide it underneath his hostile demeanor. To me Ivar is like a god, he’s above all men, above all others. The gods made him, and I wish he could love himself as much as I love him”.

“That’s all very beautiful, and also a little bit psychotic, but I’ll let it slide for now… You’re the only one who can comprehend your feelings, and if you’re so sure about them, and about Ivar, then make sure you let him know that before it’s too late”.

“How did you become so wise?”.

“Trust me, Blondie, I’m far from wise. I just talk from experience”.

“When did you know? With Hvitserk, when did you know that he was it for you?” Freydis asks, her voice merely above a whisper.

You take a moment to think about your response. Looking around, your eyes catch all the memoirs from your relationship with Hvitserk. The tiniest details that may not me important to other people, but that mean the world to you. For instance, the rock shaped like a heart that he found on one of your first dates, as you two walked by the shores of Kattegat. You remember how Hvitserk was excited about it, and how he decided it was a good sign about your relationship from the gods themselves. Now, the heart shaped rock sat on your coffee table, working as paper weight.

“I don’t think there was a specific moment, you know? It was more like a combination of little things, and with each new moment I was just more and more certain about him, and about us” you answer simply.

Honestly, you really couldn’t point out the moment you knew Hvitserk was the only one for you. In reality, you couldn’t remember a time where he wasn’t that special person. He had invaded your life, taken over every sense of it, and you just let him. How could you say no when he made you feel the happiest you’ve ever been. Until him, you didn’t know it was possible to overflow with love, but Hvitserk showed you it was not only possible, but undeniably gratifying. He changed your life with his Labrador puppy personality, and you haven’t looked back ever since.

“Nobody is perfect, Freydis, and every relationship comes with its struggles. You just have to decide for yourself if it’s worth it or not” is all you say.

When the call ends, you stay where you are, sitting on the couch. The conversation with Freydis had gotten to you, reminiscing about your relationship with your husband.

(…)

One of yours and Hvitserk’s favourite activities was to walk by the shoreline in Kattegat. The two of you had been there countless times; late at night, after dates or when dinner with his family turned into a Shameless episode. Early mornings, before you moved in together, you’d meet at the beach after a night apart to watch the sunrise together. And after his nieces and nephews came along, he loved to spend the afternoons building sandcastles and eating ice cream before dinner, to their parents’ discontent.

“Did you know I’m a direct descendant of Odin?” Hvitserk comments beside you. You were laying on a blanket you had brought from home to enjoy the summer breeze, watching the stars above and listening to the soothing sound of the waves breaking.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, the comment so random you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“It’s true! Well, at least that’s what Ragnar told us every chance he got when we were growing up”, he continues, turning on his side so he could better face you. “Oh, and on my mom’s side, there’s Sigurd the Dragonslayer, who killed the dragon Fafnir. Sigurd is named after him”.

“I thought he was named after your grandfather”.

“Yeah, that too. There’s a lot of Sigurds in our family”, He laughs it off.

“So, you’re a descendant of both the All-Father and a famous Dragonslayer. You should’ve said that on our first date, no girl could say no to such epic bloodline” you play along.

“It really is epic, isn’t it? That’s why I got superpowers” he states, raising his eyebrows at you, his charming smile set to maximum force.

“Oh my God, you’re so full of yourself”, you exclaim, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “And what superpower were you graced with?”.

“You don’t know? I have the power to make you cum without using my hands” he replies, hands running up your bare legs and leaving a trail of goose bumps behind, his smile turning into the most mischievous smirk he could conjure.

“It’s time to go home” is all you say, standing up to gather your stuff as Hvitserk follows you, his deep and raspy laugh echoing through the night.

(…)

You could hear their laughter and screams of excitement before you even opened the front door. Confused, you leave your bag by the front door, and walk on your tip toes towards the noise coming from the kitchen. The image you’re presented with was one of pure chaos.

There was cookie dough and chocolate everywhere, and it seemed all your kitchen utensils were out of their cabinets, scattered all over the place. There was even a stool lying on the floor. By the stove, a very grimy Hvitserk was taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, with a vey excited, and equally disheveled Siggy, by his side. On the counter, Hali was making what seemed to be more cookies, with various shapes. A flour stain on his face, from his forehead to his chin – you didn’t see flour anywhere else. Lastly, on her hair highchair, Asa was looking at the scene with a look of pure dread on her little face, like she couldn’t believe what was playing out in front of her. Her little arms reached out to you the second she spotted you by the door.

“Is everything ok here or did the tornado make any victims?”, you ask, catching your boyfriend’s attention, and his army of oompa-loompas.

“Hi, baby” he greets you. “I didn’t hear you coming”.

“You want to tell me what’s happening?” you ask as you walk in the baby’s direction to save her from her high throne.

“Björn had a date”.

“Of course, he did”.

“And I convinced Ubbe and Torvi to leave the kids with me and have a day for themselves. So, we’re on baby duty until tomorrow”. Hvitserk explains, taking the cookies Hali was making to the oven.

You’re not surprised by that. Hvitserk’s loved kids, and he had a very special relationship with his nephews and nieces, but lately he’s been going out of his way to spend time with the kids. When you questioned him about it, he explained he wanted to get as much baby time as possible, so he’d be ready when his time came to be a daddy, and how could you argue against such logic? Not that you ever would, you loved the little goblins running around your kitchen just as much.

“Guthrum didn’t want to participate on your Baking Off contest?” you ask, noticing Torvi’s eldest son wasn’t present.

“He had a sleepover” Hvitserk replies, visibly bummed by the kid’s absence. Even though technically they weren’t related, he loved the boy as much as the other children, and always made sure he felt welcomed in the family.

“Ok then” you say, kissing Asa on her chubby cheek and setting her down back on the chair. Now that you think about it, you had no idea when Hvitserk had the chance to get it. “I guess we have some cookies to make”.

Your little group of chefs spent the afternoon making cookies, and you even attempted to teach them your aunt’s carrot cake with chocolate recipe. When the children felt like the kitchen was destroyed enough, you moved on to the backyard to play football and hide and seek. After dinner, you tried watching A Bug’s Life, one of your favourite movies growing up, but the kids were exhausted, and you and Hvitserk were the only ones paying attention to Filk’s effort to defeat the evil grasshoppers.

“Who’s the lucky and unsuspecting lady Björn went out with?” you ask later, making him laugh. In your arms, little Asa stirred a little when you stopped to rock her to face Hvitserk, who, in turn, was trying to dress a very sleepy Hali. Siggy, being older than her siblings, got to finish watching the movie before her bedtime.

“He wouldn’t tell us much. All we know is that her name is Gunnhild and that she’s a widow”.

“May the gods save her poor soul and heart”, you murmur.

“Thank you for today”, he says suddenly, taking you by surprise. “For being so chill with the kids and stuff”.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. Ever” you respond, kissing him softly on the cheek. “I love them too, you know that”.

Hvitserk smiles softly, finally putting Hali’s pajamas on and putting him to bed. “I can’t wait for our kids. Our own half me and half you minions. All five of them”.

“I beg your pardon?!” you exclaim, turning your face to him so fast, you think you heard your neck snap.

“Well, Björn already has three kids, and we all know there’s more coming. Dude has the worst pull out game ever” he defends. “And the others are all in relationships too, soon they’re going to start having babies of their own. Even Gyda is thinking about it, she told me so herself. We need to win this race!”.

“Race? What race?” you utter, but he just walks out of the room. “Hvitserk, come back here and explain yourself”.

“I’m going to check on Siggy” he calls from the hallway, leaving you astonished behind, baby Asa still sleeping on your arms.

(…)

As most people in this part of the world, the Lothbrok family loved football, and with that being so, they took every opportunity that presented itself to play against one another. Therefore, that’s how you found yourself one afternoon, sitting under a huge umbrella, with Ivar by your side playing referee, whilst Hvitserk played with Björn, Floki, and Sigurd, against Ragnar, Ubbe, Athelstan and Rollo.

On the field, Hvitserk has the ball, running to the net and leaving his adversaries behind. He attempts a kick, and the ball fly past Athelstan, stopping at the back of the net.

“GOAL” you shout from your seat as Ivar validates the score pointing to the centre of the field. “YEAH HVITSERK”.

You watch as he runs towards you, taking off his jersey (because yes, they had their own custom jerseys made) and spinning it. His broad and sculpted chest, sweat making the tattoo on his shoulder shine was a sight to behold.

When Hvitserk reaches you, he holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. “Did you like the goal, baby? I did it specially for you”.

“It deserves a Puskas” you answer, before kissing him deeply.

“You two are so disgusting” Ivar murmurs beside you.

(…)

You wake up in the middle of the night, chilling from the early morning cold. It takes you a moment to realize why, Hvitserk had once again stolen the covers from you. He laid beside you, only his blond head visible underneath the mountain of duvets he had covered himself with.

Taking a deep breath, you try pushing some of the blanket to you, but without success as it seemed he had managed to trap the covers under his body. You had begged Hvitserk so many times now to dress for bed according to the weather, but the stubborn man refused, arguing he was only able to sleep on his underwear and nothing else (nothing being his favourite outfit – his words, not yours). However, he wasn’t immune to the cold Kattegat winter and, despite the top of the line heating system you had, it could get a bit chilly in the house during the night. As a result, Hvitserk would get cold, stealing all the covers from you in the process.

“Hvitserk” you whisper, trying to wake him up. When he doesn’t even budge you try again, this time shaking him by the shoulder, but that doesn’t work either. The man could easily sleep through an environmental disaster, it wouldn’t be you calling him that would wake him up so easily.

Giving up, you gather up the courage to get out of bed and get more blankets from one of the extra bedrooms, and maybe even a sweater. But as soon as you make the first move to stand up, Hvitserk moves beside you, his strong arms coming from behind you to envelope your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

“Baby, why you so cold?” he asks when your freezing skin touches his much warmer.

“Are you kid-“ you snap, but before you can complete your sentence, he continues.

“Come closer, I’ll warm you up” Hvitserk says, voice still drowsy. Pulling the blankets to cover you both, he snuggles you even closer, one leg passing over yours, the arm around your waist holding on tighter, and the other hand holding your cold one.

Forgetting the reason why you were mad at him, you let him hold you, his warm body warming up yours. You wonder if one day you will ever be mad at this man, or if his littlest gestures would always calm you down.

(…)

The sound of the door slamming wakes you from your daydreaming and you can hear Hvitserk whistling to himself.

“Baby, I’m home”, he calls as he enters the living room where you’re still sited.

“Hi, Hvitty” you answer, voice failing from all the emotion bubbling inside your chest.

“What happened?” he asks when he notices your watery eyes, sitting by your side on the couch and enveloping you with his arms.

“Nothing much. I was just talking to Freydis and…” you answer, melting into his embrace.

“Oh let me guess, trouble in paradise? Ivar wouldn’t shut up during lunch. He even spoiled the match. Only Ivar could be so annoying and persistent to spoil a football match” he complains, making you laugh.

“I’m sorry you had to go through such hardship, baby” your hand on his cheek, you pull his face towards yours, lips meeting his soft ones on a gentle kiss, hands running through his blond hair.

“It was so difficult” he murmurs on your lips, deepening the kiss and pushing you to your back, his body coming over yours.

As it usually works between the two of you, the kiss turns into more, and soon you’re both breathing hard, hands running all over each others’ bodies.

“I love you, Hvitserk” you say when he breaks the kiss to take off your borrowed hoodie. Up close, you can see his eyes glistening with your sudden confession, all the sentiments you were sure were visible on your eyes reflecting back at you.

He gives up on his task to remove your clothes for the moment, bending down so his forehead was touching yours. Voice heavy with emotion, Hvitserk says:

“I love you, y/n”.

Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

(if you wish to be added or removed from the taglist, please just let me know).

[peaceisadirtyword]

Drabble #3 (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hiiii🥰 I’m back again with another Christmas request! (even if this is more like an one-shot than a drabble because I have no self-control). 

Thank you so much dear anon for your request!♥️ I hope you’re better now! In any case, here you have nearly 3000 words of soft Ivar that I hope help a bit🥰 Also I hope you like it, I hope I didn’t fuck up your request😭 Thank you💞

Warnings: Ivar being a bit anxious, mentions of sickness, I need a boyfriend like Ivar, I tried to consult as many sources as I could to make sure I was getting the symptoms and the medical stuff right but I apologize in advance if I made any mistakes! There’s also fluff💖

gif belongs to @therealcalicali​ 

"Ivar, would you please stop looking at your phone when I'm talking? It's kind of rude" 

Ubbe's big eyes were narrowed at him when Ivar finally looked up from his phone. He locked it, a bit annoyed and frustrated, but left it on the table before finishing his beer. 

"Sorry" he shrugged "Continue" 

Ubbe had been ranting about the ideas he had for Torvi's present. Sigurd was insisting on him buying the tickets for that concert Torvi wanted to go, but Hvitserk had been trying to convince him the best idea would be to enter the Victoria's Secret store at the end of the street. 

"What's wrong with you?" Hvitserk elbowed him with a frown "You're very quiet"

"Luckily" Sigurd rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his tea. Ivar ignored him because he wasn't in the mood to deal with his idiotic brother. 

"And you're staring at your phone" Ubbe pointed out "I don't think you have done that before" 

"It's just..." Ivar sighed, looking around the bar in which they were sitting. He thought a beer would help to calm his nerves but until then it had done exactly the opposite "It's Y/N"

His brothers' faces went from curious to worried. Except for Sigurd, who only rolled his eyes. 

"What's wrong with her?" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow.

"She... Hasn't talked to me for a couple of days" Ivar frowned "I texted, I called, but she hasn't replied nor picked up her phone, and I don't know what happened... What if...?" he didn't finish, only stared at his empty glass. 

"So she realized you're a fucking psycho and decided to leave you, what's the big deal?" Sigurd chuckled, but Hvitserk glared at him.

"Shut up, Sigurd" 

"Enough, all of you" Ubbe scoffed "Now, Ivar, did you have a fight or was she bothered by anything the last time you saw each other?" 

His little brother shrugged. He had asked himself that question at least ten times in the last twenty four hours. But there wasn't any fighting, you didn't look bothered nor angry at him, only a bit tired because you had been working a lot the days before... 

"No, we didn't fight, we just had dinner, watched some tv and she spent the night, nothing else..."

"Yeah that night she didn't sound bothered at all" Hvitserk chuckled and Ivar glared at him. 

"That's weird" Ubbe frowned. It wasn't like you to avoid Ivar "Has she been active in social media?" 

Ivar shook his head.

"Do you think something could have happened?" he licked his lips nervously. He didn't really want to think about it, but it was either that or you deciding to break up with him. 

"Hey, don't worry" Hvitserk smiled softly at him "I'm sure everything is okay, why don't you drop by her place? It's near here, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, act like a stalker when she clearly does not want anything with you anymore" Sigurd scoffed "Stop bothering her" 

Ivar and Hvitserk rolled his eyes at the same time. 

"Why did you invite him, Ubbe?" Ivar rubbed his eyes. 

"Because I thought we could enjoy a some brotherly time together" his older brother suddenly looked very tired "I was clearly wrong" 

"Anyway, I'm going to see her" Ivar took his crutch and stood up. At least that day was a good one and he didn't need both crutches "If I get dumped, I will call you so you can order another round" he clenched his jaw. 

"Good luck, little brother" Hvitserk patted his leg with a wink "Use protection"

"Don't be all defensive and aggressive with her" Ubbe raised an eyebrow at him "Give her space and time"

"Okay" he rolled his eyes again, ignoring Sigurd as he stepped out of the bar.

_________________________________

Ivar wasn't sure of what he was expecting when he knocked at your door. He didn't know whether to expect another man, maybe a shirtless blonde that was cooking you lunch, or maybe you opening  the door dressed only with someone else's shirt. Maybe you wouldn't even open the door, because you didn't want to see him. 

But what he definitely didn't expect was to see you opening the door with your eyes nearly closed, shaking while in your pajamas and wrapped in a blanket and with an irregular breathing. 

"Y/N?" Ivar frowned.

"Hi Ivar" you smiled weakly, looking like you weren't sure if you were dreaming or not. 

"I... Are you okay?" 

No, clearly you weren't okay, because when you tried to reply you started coughing, which alarmed Ivar. 

"Sorry" you cleared your throat "I think I caught a cold"

A cold. Ivar raised an eyebrow and entered your flat, closing the door after him. 

"You didn't answer your phone for nearly two days, Y/N I was..." he bit his own tongue, cursing himself for thinking you were trying to avoid him and having sex with other people when you were literally fighting for your life. 

"Sorry" you apologized again, frowning softly. Two days? You remembered coming back home and falling asleep on the couch after spending the night with him, and waking up in the middle of the night with a headache, coughing and feeling like someone was sliding a knife down your throat every time you breathed. You had gone straight to bed, and since then you only remembered being asleep or feeling like someone had ran over you at least five times when you were awake. Didn't even think about checking your phone. 

"It's fine, don't worry about that... Did you go to the doctor?" Ivar pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, and his eyes widened when he felt how warm your skin was. 

"No, I..." another cough made Ivar lick his lips nervously "I think it will pass if I sleep a bit" 

Ivar was more than sure that wasn't how illnesses worked, but he wasn't going to start arguing with you. 

"Alright, I will make a couple of calls, I will tell Hvitserk to go buy a couple of things and you" he pointed at your couch "Are going to lay down there and not get up until I say so, understood?" 

You opened your mouth to protest, but started coughing before you could even think about what you were going to say to him. You could feel his widened ocean eyes on you the whole time. 

"You can't stay" you finally managed to whine "You will get sick too!"

"Sure, I will just leave and I will come back when it's time to organize your funeral, do you want me to call your parents and tell them you love them?" he smiled sarcastically as he took his coat off and left it on the rack. 

"Ivar I'm serious" you could barely talk now, but managed to glare at him "What if you get sick too?" 

"Then I will need you alive because I don't trust Hvitserk" he rolled his eyes "Couch. Now" 

There was no point on arguing with Ivar because he was the most stubborn human being in the world, so you just sighed and finally let yourself fall on the couch, snuggling under the three blankets you had gathered. 

But your peace didn't last, as Ivar took the blankets off of you. You glared at him and whined in protest, but he sighed, shaking his head. 

"You have a fever, Y/N, if you put three blankets over you, it's going to get worse" 

"But I'm cold" you frowned, and you'd swear Ivar's expression softened. 

"I know, but you can only use one blanket" he tucked you in, balancing with his crutch to avoid falling over you "Come on, try and fall asleep again" 

You sighed and nearly smiled when you felt his lips against your temple. 

Ivar sighed, leaving the blankets on the backrest of the couch before turning around to take his phone off of his pocket. 

The first call he made was to Helga. He knew she had a few days off the hospital because of the holidays and was currently at home with Floki. During the call he tried to sound calm and relaxed, but he was sure that Helga -who had practically raised him- had heard the panicking tone on his voice. 

The next person he called was Aslaug. His mother sounded worried when he explained that you were very sick and he didn't really know what to do. After trying to calm him down, reassuring him that you weren't going to die, she gave him the recipe for the soup she always cooked when he wasn't feeling good. 

The last call was for Ubbe. He was relieved to hear that Sigurd had left already and that Hvitserk and him hadn't drank that many beers after he left. Then he made them write down the ingredients Aslaug had told him he needed for the soup and then sent them to the nearest supermarket. 

When Helga arrived he had no other choice than to wake you up. He had been tidying up your bedroom, and even took the time to take your favorite stuffed animal and left it next to you. It broke his heart to see you wincing in pain when you opened your eyes and groan against the cushion you were using as a pillow, but the small smile you shot him when you recognized him relaxed him a bit. 

"Ivar called me" Helga kneeled next to you, checking your temperature with her hand with a smile "Let's check how you're doing, okay?"

Ivar sat next to you, caressing your hair slowly as Helga asked you some questions and you replied weakly. Just when she was finishing, Ubbe and Hvitserk arrived, and he had to leave you alone with Helga as he answered the door. 

"How is she doing?" Ubbe asked him quietly as Hvitserk took the bags to the kitchen. 

"Well... She's alive" Ivar frowned "I think I'm going to stay here with her for a few days, until she gets better"

Ubbe couldn't hold back a smile.

"Yeah, I think that would be good, just be careful and don't get sick you too"

"I've spent half of my life in the hospital, Ubbe, I'll be fine" 

Hvitserk looked amused when he came back. 

"She looks terrible but she isn't that bad, threw a cushion to me when I asked if she was pretending so she could hide another man under her bed"

Ivar sighed.

"Now leave, she needs peace and quiet to rest and she's not going to get that if the two of you are here so" he pointed at the door and practically pushed them out of the flat. 

"I'll stop by to see if you need anything and I will bring some things to you, text me what you need!" Ubbe barely managed to finish his sentence when Ivar closed the door. He went back to the living room as fast as his sore legs and his crutch allowed him. When he arrived you were back on the couch, hugging the toy he had left next to you with the blanket over you and half closed eyelids. Helga was standing up, carefully tucking you in before turning to look at him. 

"Looks like pneumonia" she sighed with a gentle smile "Not too bad, nothing she can't handle, but you should stay around" 

Ivar nodded, glancing at you. 

"Does she need to take anything?" 

"I left some medicines in the kitchen, with that and some painkillers she should get better" Helga took her things and started to put her coat on "But she hasn't eaten anything, so she needs to eat before taking them" 

"I'll cook something" he nodded and glanced over her shoulder to glare at you "You didn't tell me you hadn't eaten" 

A weak groan that sounded like an apology was the only answer he got.

"Good, don't be alarmed if she feels nauseous or anything like that, it can happen, but she needs to eat and rest. If she's not better in a couple of days call me and we'll take her to the hospital" Helga kissed his cheek "Take care of her, Ivar, she needs you"

"Don't really have anything better to do" he rolled his eyes, amused, as she said goodbye. 

As soon as Helga left, Ivar made sure you were asleep and still breathing before going back to the kitchen. It couldn't be that hard to cook a soup, because even Hvitserk managed to do it once. He struggled and had to call his mother a couple of times, but in an hour and a half he had a warm soup ready and had managed to make you get up and walk to the kitchen to eat.

"I didn't know you could cook" you muttered with a small smile as you ate. He sat next to you eyeing you carefully. 

"I mean... It's not as good as the one my mother did" he pouted "But it’s not that bad" 

"It's the best soup I've ever tried" you leant in to kiss his cheek softly "Thank you"

"Come on, eat" he shook his head, holding back a smile and blushing a bit. You did look a bit better after you finished the soup and took your medicines, but Ivar forced you to go back to the couch as he cleaned the kitchen. The medicines left you asleep for hours, and Ivar could rest for a bit as you before you woke up again. 

"What time is it?" you asked softly, yawning. Ivar was sitting on the couch, with your legs on his lap and his fingers tracing some patterns over your pajama pants. With his other hand he held a book, one of the ones you had left on the table of the living room a few days before when you came from your monthly trip to the bookshop. 

"Almost seven" he replied with a gentle voice. It was already dark outside, and you were happy to realize your head didn't hurt as much and you could breathe a bit more easily. 

"I can't believe I slept the entire day" you muttered as you sat. Ivar left the book on the coffee table and helped you to sit up on the couch. 

"You looked like you needed it" he chuckled "How are you feeling?" he leant in to kiss your forehead, relaxing a bit when he noticed you barely had a fever anymore. 

"A bit better, thanks to you" you smiled softly at him.

"I'm glad, but you still need to rest and eat" he winked at you "I'll prepare something for dinner"

"I'll go to the bathroom" you sighed "I also need a shower" 

"Be careful with that and be quick, don't get cold, that's the last thing you need" he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Okay mom" you giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek "I love you, you're the best"

"Me too, but go now" he chuckled, shaking his head with his cheeks reddened. 

__________________________________

"This feels nice" you muttered as you laid on your bed, surrounded by blankets and cushions Ivar had brought to your bedroom. He laid just behind you, with his head resting on top on yours and his arms around your body. It was the most comfortable you had been for days, and the sound of his breathing, the barely perceptible rising of his chest against your back comforted you even more. You weren't even paying attention to the sitcom that played on your laptop. 

"Yeah" he agreed softly "You okay?" 

You nodded, sighing when he pulled you even closer to him. He kissed your temple again and left his cheek pressed against yours.

"Did you really believe I was cheating on you?" you asked with a giggle, making Ivar groan. 

"Worst two days of my life" he smiled against your skin. 

"Same" you smiled "I'm sorry I made you worry" 

"It's fine, but next time send me a text"

"Only if you promise me you won't call your entire family to come and take care of me"

"I will call the fucking government if I have to, Y/N" you couldn't see him, but you were sure he was rolling his eyes. 

"I don't need the government, I just need cuddles" you pouted "I'm not in the mood to make out now but when I get better I'm going to give you the biggest kiss ever" you turned your head to look at him. 

"I'm looking forward to that, but for now" he leant in to kiss your nose softly "Rest" 

You hummed, nodding, and went back to rest your head against his chest before closing your eyes. Being sick sucked, but at least you had Ivar. 

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

A/B/C/D/E/F/G/H/I/J/K/L/M/N/O/P/Q/R/S/T/U/V/W/X/Y/Z

 FROM THE CHARACTER ALPHABET WITH IVAR RAGNARSSON.

REQUESTED BY: @witch-of-letters

A - affection (how affectionate are they? what do they enjoy?)

At first? Not at all.

The only person he is used to getting affection from is Aslaug, so naturally you might earn a few sceptical looks from him if you try to get close.

Nevertheless he quickly learns how pleasant the attention of someone else can be, but tries to be subtle about it. He wouldn’t want to tell you upfront that he enjoys having you close or that he likes your touch, because he fears the rejection that might come with it.

In time, he would alert you with a little nudge here and there whenever he requires your tenderness.

Slowly but surely Ivar would get more daring, trying to innitiate the soft touches himself. If you don’t pull back, he’ll get more sure of himself and as soon as it is clear to him that you are serious about him, you’ll be the only person in Kattegat to recieve affectionate touches from Ivar without any deadly concequences.

What he loves most is either having his head placed on your chest or stomach, feeling you breathe and with your hands in his hair, or laying on the side, with you wrapped around his back.

B - bodypart (what’s their favorite bodypart on their partner and them?)

His arms.

His arms have been a replacement for his legs for all his life. Since he has to crawl everywhere until he has his crutches, they are well built and knowing that you love being wrapped inside them, makes Ivar love them even more.

Your legs.

He likes your legs because they are what he cannot have. He likes them because his are so flawed, and yet you choose to love them anyways. And he likes them due to their shape, the softness of your skin and how they look when you move around.

C - commitment (how quick are they to commit?)

Not that quick.

Ivar is reluctant, to say the least.

He needs to be 100% sure that you are commited to him, before he will make any kind of promises to you. It would be a long process full of selfdoubt, selfdeprication and fear of betrayal.

Ivar would also visit the seer and ask about a future with you by his side. The seers answers would be, as always, very vague (if he says something at all).

In addition to all those troubles, his brothers are in the midst of it. Ubbe and Hvitserk might be the only positive voices of reason at times (apart from Aslaug), while Bjorn would not really concern himself with it. Sigurd on the other hand would throw salt at Ivars mental wounds, saying you were only with him out of pity.

So the viking has no real option but to rely on you reassurance and your loving words. You’d probably have to spend months proving that you are serious about him, because he has been hurt and rediculed so many times before, but in the end it’s all worth it.

Once Ivar chooses to fully commit to you, he’s there to stay.

D - dates (what would dates with them look like? what would they plan?)

Ivar is usually not that much of a planner when it comes to dates.

Normally he is content with finding a secluded place to spend time with you, away from the crowds and far, far away from his relatives.

But if, for any reason, a special occassion should arise, he would definetely ask his brothers for help as much as he hates it.

He would send Hvitserk to distract you with requests and tasks all day, while Ubbe helps him set everything up in a little cabin in the woods. Ivar would ask Aslaug to have some thralls bring plates of food as well.

E - experience (how many relationships have they had before?)

Close to nothing, really.

Ivar did not have any experience with real love and he was very sceptical of it.

The few kisses and cuddles he may have had, have all come from the thralls his family owns.

Apart from that, he has not been interested in anybody, other than finding some attractive on the outside. Too often he had to find out the hard way that the insides of people where much more ugly than the exterior.

So in response to that Ivar mainly focused on his training and on becoming a better viking, until you came along.

F - family (do they want to start a family?)

Ivar would love to start a family.

At first, he is actually astounded that you’d bring it up.

For a long time, he could’ve never imagined someone wanting to have a family with him. To have a child with him (no matter if it’s your own or adopted). So when you suggest it, he is mindblown for a second, before he cups your face, telling you that it is what he longed for all along.

He would be ecstatic upon the idea of having an heir. Or two. Or more. But at least one is fair.

For him, it feels like everything is finally falling into the right place.

G - generosity (do they give their partner a lot of presents? if so, what?)

Exceptionally generous.

And you don’t even have to ask for them.

Ivar brings tons of goods and riches home from every raid, where you can pick whatever you like. He makes sure to safe the best pieces for you and keeps an eye out for suvenirs he knows you might love.

Should you require anything else Ivar has enough resources to get you everything you want from the market. Since Aslaugs rule in Ragnars absence, Kattegat has also transformed into an important trading center, will all kinds of diverse products.

Ivar sees to it, that you have anything you could possible require, even in his absence.

He spoils you, not gonna lie.

H - heaven (how would they react if they lost their partner?)

Ivar would never recover from the loss.

After everything that happened to his family, all the betrayals and the lies and the fights, you were the one thing to keep him going. You had been there for him everytime, no matter how hard it was. No matter how dangerous it got, no matter how exhausted you were.

But now?

There was nothing.

No one.

And no way to bring you back.

One of the things that scares Ivar most is how numb everything feels. There was nobody to be angry at. Nobody to blame, except for the illness that took you away. And against something like that, not even Ivar the Boneless could seek revenge.

He should have known when you confessed you love, that you were just another thing he had to lose. First it was his father, then his mother, then Helga and Floki and now... there was nothing left of him.

Still your face, your smell, you presence would follow him everywhere he goes.

And he’d beg you to haunt him.

I - i love you (who says the three magic words first and why?)

It depends.

The only way Ivar would say it first is if he is frantic. Either in a screaming match, or when you are close to leaving him.

When neither of those are likely though, this viking would most definetely wait until you’ve said it first. For a long time he does not even dare to hope that you will. He is still a cripple after all, no amout of love could ever change that and he fears the day you realize it. Ivar is so used to rejection that he tells himself it wouldn’t hurt if you left. But deep down he knows it would. That’s why he always hesitates in the very last second, drawing back. 

He leaves the first ‘i love you’ to you. But when it comes, you’ve never seen him smile that big. He can’t believe his luck. Can’t believe that you truly choose him over anyone else.

Ivar will rarely outright tell you that he loves you and only chooses particular moments for it.

But that just makes it all the more special.

J - journey (how did they first meet their partner?)

Unfortunately, you met Ivar while his men were preparing for a raid.

You stumbled upon their camp and he questioned you, demanding informations. This way he could gather when the best time for an attack might be. But not only that. You captured his interest in a way he would not have expected.

There was something in the way you spoke and the way you carried yourself that made him hesitate. He supposed that was what it must have felt like for his father with that unlucky priest Floki killed in the end. But then again, in time, he discovered it wasn’t quite the same. There was something more that drew him to you, apart from curiosity.

And he intended to find out what exactly it was.

Who knows after all?

Maybe it was fate.

K - kisses (what are their kisses like?)

Ivars kisses are desperate.

Desperate for warmth, desperate for acceptance, desperate for belonging.

He puts his emotions into every kiss and there is no such thing as ‘just a peck’ with him. Ivar likes to feel needed. He likes showing you how much he loves you, rather than expressing it with words.

He’s also not ashamed to kiss you in front of an audience, frankly he does not care who sees it, because you’re the only one that counts (but he will stop should it make you uncomfortable). He does not fear that it might make him seem weak, that thought is pretty ridiculous to him.

If anything, he’s even more proud to be the one you want.

L - love language (what’s their love language?)

Ivars love language is physical touch closely followed by words of affirmation.

Ivar feels loved the most if he recieves physical touch. He senses that most people around him are too intimidated to get close, or are simply put off by his condition. As a result of that, he rarely gets affectionate touches or attention, which he craves dearly. Even more so since Aslaug is dead and Floki and Helga are both gone. It’s important to Ivar that his partner makes him feel appreciated this way, even if it’s just a hand on his arm at the table, or your fingers laced with his. Every little touch counts.

The second best way to make him happy is through words of affirmation. Words have great meaning to Ivar, so beware of saying anything hurtful to him, for it might stay with him for a lifetime. In time you may notice that especially Ragnars last words “happiness means nothing” are stuck in Ivars head. Words impact him greatly, and you may have to undo some of the damage others have caused in his mind, with a few well-placed strikes. Ivar will appreciate it if you reassure him of your love with the right words at the right time.

M - memory (what’s their favorite memory of the relationship?)

The morning after the first night spend together.

Back then he had no idea how it happened or how you did it.

You were still snoring next to him when he came to realize he didn’t just like you. He loved you. And while you moved around, hugging the fur close to your chest a thousand emotions had swirled in his head. He was confused, surprised and completely thrown aback about what you did to him. About how you made his heart beat faster and his limbs tingle with the need to draw you closer. He watched, until the sun tickled your skin, rousing you from your sleep and when you opened your eyes to look at him with that smile... you knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Whenever he thinks back to that morning now, you catch him with an absent-minded smile on his lips.

N - newborn (how would they react to expecting a child? how would they deal with the pregnancy?)

Ivar would be shocked.

First of all, he would question if the child is truly his, as it seemed impossible before. He wouldn’t have thought that he would ever get the chance to have an heir. So, once you’ve settled his doubts, he would be the proudest father-to-be in all of Kattegat.

But also the most anxious.

He heavily questions his ability to raise a child. Even he knows his father was not a really good example to look up to when it comes to raising children, or to being a husband.

So he seeks the not really helpful advice of his brothers, who all seem to go in completely different directions when it comes to kids. Hvitserk is clearly letting his nephews and nieces walk all over him, while Ubbe is acting like an overprotective hen. Bjorn seems deadset on training them and sending them out in the wild. And Sigurd? Ivar is not quite sure the man is a grown-up himself.

In conclusion: they all started fighting amost themselves while Ivar watched the mess unfold.

Clearly, his mother Aslaug would have been a much better option.

But if she is no longer around, Ivar will instead turn to Floki and Helga where he finally finds some words of wisdom and support.

Without a doubt the woman carrying his child will be protected at all times. This is a literal miracle to him and he would be devastated if anything went wrong with the mother, or the child.

Other than that Ivar finds great joy in the pregnancy. He loves seeing the mother grow with his child and he would be truly proud of his child for carrying on his legacy. Ivar’s love grows during this incredible months, even during all the moods and cravings.

Both, the mother and the baby will be incredibly spoiled.

O - oasis (what’s their favorite place to spent time?)

The pier.

He enjoys the location, especially on warm summer days.

He has many memories stored in his mind, of sitting out on the docks. It’s a place where he can clear his head and it also gives him an overview of everything that is happening around him.

Ivar also likes the calm view of the ocean, even though he’s terrified of the sea. He likes to imagine all the lands that await him on the next raid. The atmosphere helps him to resume his strategies and to gather his thoughts.

It helps him to visualize the terrain the next war will be fought on and the techniques his enemies might use.

You will find him there often, sitting and staring out to the sea until the sun fades away.

P - petnames (what petname would they give their partner?)

“My love.”

The words tasted absolutely ridiculous on his tongue, when he first said them. Almost pathetic. That is also what he threw at your head, when you first said it, but not in anger. It was... something else. Some thing you had to figure out first.

The way he put you off was so reluctant, that it didn’t fit. He liked it. You knew he did. And he knew you knew he did. And he hated it.

This, in turn, made you use the petname whenever you could, with a smirk on your face. Eventually he not only gave in, but started using it himself.

The first time he did you probably spit out your drink in shock tbh.

He’d grumble out of embarassement, until you’d reassure him. When he knows for sure that you actually love it, it’s settled.

It would become a habit.

Q - quiet (what do undisturbed moments look like?)

Peaceful.

In quiet moments Ivar can take a breath and let go of all that troubles him.

He likes taking you down to the beach on those rare days, lying next to you in the sand and relaxing for hours. In those moments all the fights, the wars and the arguments truly fade away. Sometimes they might creep into his mind, which you scold him for when he shares those thoughs absent-mindedly.

Apart from that, it is in those quiet times that you can truly find joy in the company of each other. There don’t need to be many words or actions to keep you happy, just the two of you alone will do.

R - rivals (how do they handle jealousy?)

Not too well.

If there is anyone making advances towards you, Ivar will be the first one to notice. Probably even before you.

He knows very well that you would not appreciate a bloodbath. And further than that, there are political figures that are better kept alive during those stressful times of war. So, no matter how much it bugs him, he would keep still for the time being, trusting you to tell them off (but you may notice the tick of his jaw, or the whitened knuckles when his fingers clench around the armrests of his chair).

If you don’t notice, Ivar will be sure to inform you and ask you to do something about it. He doesn’t voice his concerns about it very clearly, but he is afraid of you leaving him for another.

Though, should a situation get critical, even after you have made clear that Ivar is the one for you, you can be sure that Ivar wont let it slide.

Even if he has to make it look like an accident.

S - song (what song is a reminder of them?)

OCEAN EYES - BILLIE EILISH

I've been watchin' you for some time

Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes

Burning cities and napalm skies

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

Your ocean eyes

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

I've been walkin' through a world gone blind

Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind

Careful creature made friends with time

He left her lonely with a diamond mind

And those ocean eyes

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

Da, da-da, da-da

Da-da-da, da, da

Da, da, da, da, da-da-da-da

Mm

Mm

Mm

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

T - token (what kind of object would be the proof of their love? a ring? a necklace? something completely different?)

Ivar can, as a prince and as a king, buy you anything you want.

So he goes a completely different way.

He would try and make you something himself. Something that wouldn’t bother you during the day while tending to your tasks, but also something that would show everyone around you that you are taken.

And something that would remind you of him.

Ivar has noticed you fiddle with the pendant of his necklace often enough.

The viking takes is upon himself to make a twin to the mjolnir hanging from his throat. He would spend ages drawing out the form and details of the hammer, making sure everything looks perfect. He would also use much more expensive material than his own was made of and would insert fitting gemstones if possible.

Ivar works through days and nights to complete his work and smiles like a child when he can finally hand it to you.

It would turn out so beautiful that you would never want to take it off.

U - unique (why did they choose their partner? what first attracted them?)

The thing that first drew him to you was your personality.

Ivar likes looking at pretty features and bodies, yes. But in a way, doesn’t everyone?

Physical attributes don’t mean that much to him. That he may find a body pleasing to look at has nothing to do with feelings. It is more about an aesthitic. About a facade.

What really interests him is your behavior and your mannerisms. How you talk and behave when nobody sees you and how you move when the great hall is filled with people.

Ivar is first attracted to you because of your habits and your character. The unique tells when he catches you lying, or the characteristic twitch of your mouth, when Bjorn shares a story around the dinner table.

V - vulnerable (how vulnerable do they allow themselves to get?)

He is a tough nut to crack.

Ivar is not the type to be vulnerable around others.

He is not always proud of it when he loses his temper, but he absolutely hates it when he has to cry. Not particularily because he sees it as a weakness, but because he despises the whole feeling of it. He hates the helplessness that settles in and the pityful looks everyone carries on their faces when tears are shed.

He does not like to cry in front of you, even when you are close. You will often have to force him to lean on you and let you comfort him. At the beginning he dislikes doing so, but quickly notices that it helps.

He starts to appreciate your help and your knowledge when you assist him to get his mind back on track and give him a perspective he might not have thought of (though there is rarely a way he does not come up with).

X - xfactor (what’s one of their special talents they try to impress with?)

His mind.

While his brothers might be honest in saying that they consider him their equal despite his disability (which he is already sceptical of), Ivar is very aware that that does not count for everyone else around him.

Not even for you.

So he tries to impress you with what he does best. Ivar is intelligent and an incredible strategist on all fields. He will use his smarts and his witt to catch you attention (and maybe even aks you for advice, even though he already has the perfect solution).

Y - yin & yang (how does having their partner around change their behavior?)

It changes quite a bit.

Ivar becomes calmer when you’re around. More patient and less heated. Apart from that he puts great value on your opinions, even of you are not familiar with all of his strategies.

The times of war are stressful even on a bright mind such as his. It makes him agitated when you’re parted and he trends to get nervous when he can’t keep an eye on you.

Since what happened to his mother while he was not around, he fears that the same fate might come for you if he is not on guard at all times. That, in turn gets him easily frustrated when you can’t join him where he is going.

Needless to say, his men are glad when you are present.

Ivar becomes more relaxed, witty and even pleasant at times as soon as you are near.

Z- zen (how calm are they during arguments?)

Not very calm, even though he tries to keep his cool.

He tends to let his frustrations out, wether that be through screaming or trashing something.

This viking does not hold back.

And we all know Ivar is already intimidating enough when he is not in a bad mood.

But usually, all of that doesn’t happen around you. Between the both of you arguments rarely arise. You are pretty much on the same page and definetely act as a team.

Though, of course, it can’t be that easy all the time. When an argument between the two of you arises Ivat tries to reason with you. The man is used to things going his way, so it might be quite a struggle to go against him at first. He tends to get louder, as a way to emphasize his reasoning, but will quickly try to shut it down if you tell him that it upsets you.

He’ll try to explain his situation and get a grip on your view at the same time, until you reach an agreement both of you are happy with, which he does not do with anyone but you.

[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​

[jadelynlace]

When Ivar and reader were causally seeing each other but weren’t officially out yet, how would Ivar react when guys tried to flirt or ask reader out? Would Ivar get jealous? Did it lead to more sex? Or did Ivar just try and play it cool and act like it didn’t bother him? 👀

My mind goes in two different directions with this one:

To begin, when you two would go out with one another, it took a bit of planning, and a bit of distance from the normal spots you'd go with friends, or Ivar would go with his brothers. There was always that small voice in the back of Ivar's mind that you'd be "caught" and you'd freak out, and that would be the end of it. He knew you were worried about how Hvitserk would handle it, and in turn, Ivar got that way too, even when he knew his brother. And he knew him well enough that Hvitserk likely wouldn't freak out too much, but he wants to do what keeps you most comfortable. He's just happy to be a part of it.

However, because you two were heading to different areas to essentially date, you could act like a couple. You two might as well be CIA operatives with how you went about this because you're dorks. So, there wasn't much of an opportunity for you to "look single".

But, when you're out with the brothers, you have to pretend that you're single, and you hate Ivar. (You swear sometimes it's super hard because that morning he was a giant squishy teddy bear who wanted to hold you and whined when you only gave him one kiss before you left versus two. Not to mention: sometimes, you're worried you're going to cross a line with the bickering, and say something that really ticks Ivar off, and in turn, really hurts his feelings later on.) And with this pretending, comes the freedom for a few guys here and there to flirt. Now, if Ivar so graciously sees this, he has two options for viewing: he can watch you reject the man, which you usually do because you're "with" Ivar, and most men are trash, or sometimes, you do talk back. Keyword: talk. You're not flirting with them, and most men are like "oh dude she was flirting with you!" No, you answered their question when they asked how you were doing.

Ivar stays in his spot and fumes, drinks his beer a lot more quickly, and tries not to let his emotions get the best of him. He usually reverts to heading to the bathroom to take a leak so he doesn't have to watch it, or so he can look at pictures of the two of you on his phone as a reminder (Floki gave him this suggestion). Even if there's an occasion where Ubbe tries to set him up, he doesn't go for it, and sometimes, with how Ivar looks, women will come right up to him. He's not one to be rude when he shoots them down, he won't buy them a drink, he'll say something about not being interested, and if he's alone for a moment, he'll tell the woman he's taken. He really likes when he gets to do that.

Other times, he watches. And you feel his eyes on you as the man says something stupid and you laugh and tell him to get lost. Sometimes, Hvitserk points out that Ivar's been staring at you for a few minutes, Ivar goes:

"That guy she's talking to, I don't like the way she's standing,"

"What do you mean?" Hvitserk asks.

"You've never seen her stand like that on a call? She stands like that when she's mad," Ivar says.

"How the fuck do you know that?" Hvitserk asks.

"I've seen her do it with Ubbe when Ubbe made that sexist joke," Ivar then says. "Just be ready to grab her when she swings," Ivar shrugs.

"I can't believe you've noticed that," Hvitserk shakes his head.

"I notice a lot brother, not just with her either. She's not subtle," And that makes Hvitserk laugh.

Ivar will watch like a hawk, and if there's something, anything that starts between this man and you, Ivar will be there to finish it.

Now, my second train of thought stems from that actually happening. Four brothers around the high top table and you've gone to get another drink before you're approached by a man. And he just does not want to fuck off. No matter what you say. "I have a boyfriend" is met with "Well then where is he?" and then your subtle threat on his dick makes him mad, and then when you have to slap him, it makes him pissed. There's a snap that Ivar hears and he sees the man shove you and before he can even think, Ivar roars "Hey!" and it causes the remaining three brothers to pay attention.

"She said no, asshole," Ivar yells, and he looks pissed. "Don't you put another fucking hand on her," And you watch his eyes darken and you're pissed at this other man and slightly shocked at how quickly Ivar stepped in. You're shocked but you're safe.

"That your boyfriend?" The man asks and he tries to act strong but his dick is between his legs now when Ivar stalks closer.

"Ivar...?" Hvitserk says slowly because he's not sure what the fuck is going on and you disregard the man's question.

"Walk away," Ivar growls and his eyes watch the man turn around and leave.

"I can take care of myself, Ivar," You finally groan, rolling your eyes in pretend distaste but it's a half-assed attempt.

"Trying to keep you out of jail, princess," Ivar teases and swigs his beer and you only sigh. You're quick to excuse yourself to the ladies' room just to send Ivar a text message to thank him.

Now with that, when you show up at Ivar's door that night he's kinda shocked. Not even in the sense that you said you were tired and didn't feel like driving over to him, but because you look genuinely upset and he thinks it's about him.

"Look, I didn't like that he tried..." Ivar starts but you cut him off.

"I want to tell them," You peep. "Can we just tell them that we're together?"

"Y/N..." Ivar tries.

"You don't want to tell them, do you?" You then say and you feel your heart sink.

"No, no," Ivar starts. "It's not that, it's not that at all," And you're waiting for the next line to be the sucker punch.

"Then what is it?" You ask.

"You don't want to be in a relationship with me," Ivar says quietly.

"Ivar, I am in a relationship with you, you can't lie to me and tell me that's not what's going on!" You say and your voice is rising. "Tell me, to my face that's not what's going on," You then say and your voice flattens.

"Y/N..."

"Nevermind, Ivar," You finally say, grabbing your bag. "Just forget it,"

"Do not walk out that door," Ivar grumbles. "I know we're together, but what's going to happen when we tell everyone? We'll be official and I'll fuck it up. I can't not fuck it up, Y/N, I fuck everything up," Ivar says and you turn.

"What?" You say. "Ivar, we're official now. To Floki, to your mom, and to my mom. You call me your girlfriend all the fucking time when we're out together, we just don't do that around your brothers,"

"And who's idea was that?" Ivar asks.

"It was your fucking idea!" You yell. "You said we're not going to tell anyone!"

"That we slept together!" Ivar replies. "That one time, we weren't going to tell anyone that we hooked up,"

"I think we're past that stage now, Ivar," You groan, rubbing your fingers on your eyelids.

"I know," Ivar says quietly. “Can we just keep doing what we’re doing?” He asks softly and you can hear the vulnerability in his voice and you nod.

“Can I have a hug? I haven’t gotten to hug you all night,” You ask and Ivar is more than happy to comply before you’re gifted both a tight hug and a deep kiss with a lot of tongue.

More often that not, it leads to that very fight and it gets to a point where you don’t even bother to bring it up. And when you stop doing that Ivar finally finds the courage to make it officially, official. Because he knows you deserve that, you want that, and he wants it, too.

So while there were a few instances it lead to more sex, (not that the man really needs any excuse), there were more instances where it lead to Ivar getting one step closer to just saying it at the top of his lungs to everyone he knew.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

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[underragingwaves]

Oooh Eeevaaaaa~ 😏

How about 🔥+ "lollipop" for Hvitserk/Ubbe 😏

*exhales* You know that feeling when you read something and your brain goes HAAAAAAA! and you know it's gonna be good but you have no idea what kind of good? Yeah. That was me with this prompt the second I clapped eyes on it.

This is a modern-day AU, given the lollipop, and an established relationship between Ubbe/Hvits was the best way to make it sing. These two have an intimacy level between them that borders on the ridiculous, and I think it shows in this piece. 🥺💕

“Share.”

“It’s the last one!”

“Yes,” huffs his brother, “I know you’re able to count.”

Hvitserk hums back noncommittally. Shifts the lollipop in his mouth until only its white stick protrudes from between his lips. Lets out a happy sigh as its flavor begins to trickle onto his tongue. He’s hardly in the mood to share the last of the pack that tastes like strawberries, which is only his favorite lollipop in the existence of all lollipops. Not even Ubbe’s frown is going to convince him otherwise this time.

He frowns back when Ubbe flops down onto the bed in front of him. Frowns a little more when his brother doesn’t speak or do anything else to argue, but seems wholly content to simply sit between his legs. He knows Ubbe better than this. Knows his brother is like a dog with a bone once he’s finally decided on wanting something, and Hvitserk is quite certain Ubbe still wants him to share. He huffs at the slightly hooded blue of Ubbe’s eyes, the set of his mouth, the too-quiet way Ubbe holds himself.

Hvitserk shrugs. Questions between his attempts to slurp the strawberry juice down before it trickles out of his mouth. “What?”

He allows the lollipop to come to rest between his lips for a moment. Fiddles with it now that its flavor coats his lips and makes him wish he could savor it just the once. Closes his eyes just so the strawberry can mingle with his memory of this moment, like the soft and sharp notes of one of his favorite songs playing in the other room right now, like this moment where Ubbe’s warmth is a radiant thing for him to bask in, like… like…

Like the feeling of his brother’s mouth on his, right now, and the ticklish feeling of Ubbe’s beard against his skin that never fails to make his insides flutter. Hvitserk mumbles the most halfhearted dissent he can manage when Ubbe’s tongue licks a slow trail over his lips and stops just shy of the lollipop. He can almost feel Ubbe’s smile in the soft breath that fans out warm across his skin, especially when his brother’s mouth quirks against his before more kisses follow.

When his eyes flutter open, they are almost nose to nose. He slips the lollipop back into his mouth, in case Ubbe should get any ideas, and leans in to nuzzle against Ubbe's cheek. Giddiness sweeps through him as his brother merely sighs and leaves traces of open-mouthed kisses against his jaw, each a little sloppier than the last, each a bit more ticklish than the one before.

He loves how Ubbe's arms bracket him almost as much as he loves the small but insistent tugs on his hair his brother indulges in. Hvitserk can't help his assenting groan when Ubbe's hand comes to rest on his neck and his thumb rubs out a warm caress across his pulse. His heart almost stutters as Ubbe's weight presses against him like it does at night, sometimes, when he can't sleep unless he can hold Ubbe the way he used to when they were little.

"Love you," he mumbles, confession slightly garbled by his suckle on his lollipop. Strawberry mingles with Ubbe's scent now in a way that makes him inhale happily. "You smell so nice."

Ubbe's laughter only brings his brother closer, until Hvitserk feels his body shake, until he hears the amused rumble that seems to spread from Ubbe's chest, until his brother's smile blossoms against his neck and all he wants to do is lock this memory in with this scent.

A pleasant buzz spreads through his body, all the way down to his toes, when Ubbe's mouth and tongue chase small patterns on his skin he will never have hopes of replicating. Ubbe's touch runs deeper than any tattoo he can etch into his skin, straight into the sinews and bones that keep him rooted here, and he runs his fingers across Ubbe's scalp to press some of that loving anchor back into him. His brother murmurs some sweet nothing he doesn't quite catch, not when he busies himself with licking and savoring the sugary goodness in his mouth.

Ubbe shifts atop him, then, and meets his mouth just as he is on the verge of extracting his lollipop. He grumbles as Ubbe's tongue slips around the strawberry-flavored treat and licks into his mouth soon after. Strawberry juice flits around on his tongue now that his brother has caught the drip of it as well, now that Ubbe's mouth closes around the lollipop and suckles it between their kiss, now that his throat receives a gentle squeeze as a low moan escapes him.

"Get your own," he groans as Ubbe manages to lift the lollipop away from him. His brother's eyes twinkle with ill-concealed amusement. "Ubbe, come on," he whines, shifting on the bed now that Ubbe allows the lollipop to visibly roam across his tongue, "I'm serious, get your own."

His brother's grin carries a hint of feral promise. "You want this back?" he husks, to Hvitserk's immediate nod as the lollipop slips between Ubbe's fingers and coats them with sugar. "Want the taste of it, sweetheart?"

Hvitserk groans assent instantly. Ubbe's fingers come to rest against his lips before he can even open his mouth in earnest. He laughs as his tongue flicks out to brush against the sticky sweetness that covers his brother's digits. It's a heady taste, part strawberry and part Ubbe, so familiar that he can't help but close his mouth around the two fingers his brother offers him and suckle the flavor off his skin.

Ubbe's eyes are dark, with something of a brewing storm flickering in them as Hvitserk keeps his gaze firmly locked onto him. He can feel Ubbe's body react to the motions the same way his does, pressed together as they still are, and he muffles a delighted groan around Ubbe's fingers when his brother's body shifts against his slowly hardening cock. He spots the hint of a smile around Ubbe's mouth in a flash.

It is the only warning he gets.

"Ubbe, fuck," he whimpers as his brother lowers his head and licks a long and ticklish stripe from his collarbone to the spot just below his ear. Ubbe's huff of breath sounds amused at his squirming motion. Dimly, he registers the rustle of the lollipop wrapper and Ubbe's newly freed hand come to rest on his bare stomach soon after. "I.. fuck"– he exhales as Ubbe's fingertips trace the ink patterns on his skin –"don't you fucking dare…"

"Sshh," hushes Ubbe as he taps a warning finger against Hvitserk's mouth, "you can have it back after."

He doesn't need to ask after what, because it is perfectly clear what his older brother wants. His tongue curls around the tip of Ubbe's finger in obvious retaliation. Hvitserk knows the suckling sound he makes borders on the verge of obscene, especially when Ubbe's response to it is a harsh groan accompanied by a slight thrust against his leg, and he grins before he does it once more.

A firm hand in his hair drags his head back and bares his throat fully to Ubbe's mouth. He shudders beneath the scrape of teeth that is perfectly timed with the slight pinch of his nipple. Bucks up against the touch as soon as teeth give way to tongue and Ubbe's mouth locks around his other nipple. His insides almost seem to buzz with electricity, with some giddy feeling that sends a fresh shiver down his spine, with something that makes him lock his hand around Ubbe's braid just as his brother's hand leaves his hair.

He tugs on the braid enough to bring Ubbe's head up, though he knows nothing will stop his brother’s hand from wandering further down his belly. Hvitserk doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this feeling, not really, not when Ubbe looks at him like he’s worth keeping, but he tries to capture all of it at once when he surges forward to kiss Ubbe. There’s a desperate noise in the back of his throat already as his hand tightens in Ubbe’s hair, as he slips his tongue between Ubbe’s lips, as Ubbe’s fingertips land at the edge of his waistband, and he damn near mewls into Ubbe’s mouth when his brother kisses him back.

Ubbe pulls away all too soon.

“Come back,” mumbles Hvitserk, seeing just how Ubbe’s eyes spark with mirth at his demand. “Ubbe. Want your mouth.” He blinks as Ubbe’s smile widens. “Need your mouth”– he amends as he attempts to shift a little higher on the bed –“please, Ubbe.”

He means to have Ubbe back in his arms, close enough to kiss that smile, close enough to allow for wandering hands, but then Ubbe’s hand palms him through his sweatpants and a kiss lands on his belly and he forgets how to demand anything at all. He must have made some noise, must have bucked against the touch, because Ubbe’s eyes flicker back to his face and crinkle with obvious amusement before long. It doesn’t stop Ubbe’s kisses from turning light as feathers against his lower belly, nor does it halt the way his brother’s hand gently rubs against his cock through the fabric of his pants.

Hvitserk shudders out another noise as Ubbe’s fingers close around his obvious arousal and his brother’s tongue darts out to lick the most ticklish part of his belly. His own free hand moves down to his waistband, down to meet Ubbe’s hand, down to help tug his pants out of the way. Ubbe’s fingers interlace with his once his cock jumps free, preventing him from moving, stopping him from guiding Ubbe’s hand to where he needs it most.

“So needy,” hums his brother warmly, breath fanning out over Hvitserk’s hip before he presses a kiss to the point where his hip dips into softer belly. Ubbe’s slight shift on the bed makes it all too obvious that he shares Hvitserk’s predicament, though Hvitserk isn’t in any position to do much about that. His brother’s grin is wolfish and just a little feral as he looks up at Hvitserk. “Do you still want my mouth, baby? Hm?”

Hvitserk is already nodding before the questioning hum thrills through his body at the kiss Ubbe nudges against his skin. He shudders against the vibration of Ubbe’s lips, against the feeling of his brother’s tongue roaming closer to his cock, against the promise the question holds. It’s not often that Ubbe indulges him so lazily as he does now, seemingly content to wander hands and tongue and mouth all over Hvitserk’s skin until he’s close to breaking, and he finds himself needing to affirm out loud how much he wants this.

“Yes,” he whispers, smiling as he hears the music just outside the room shift into one of the songs Ubbe likes best, “please.”

Ubbe’s hand pins his down on the mattress just as his tongue meets the underside of Hvitserk’s cock and licks an expert stripe upward. Hvitserk’s hand uselessly fists into Ubbe’s hair at the sensation of Ubbe’s saliva sliding down his shaft when his brother’s lips brush against the tip of his cock. He groans out loud when he witnesses the trickle of spit leave Ubbe’s mouth. Whimpers as Ubbe’s fingers wrap so loosely around his cock that he can’t get any friction out of the feeling, though he still shudders at the light touches that only serves to coat him with the wetness Ubbe is set on providing.

He curses aloud as his brother’s tongue swirls around the tip of his cock and then follows his fingers downward at an agonizing pace. There’s more friction now when Ubbe’s hand tightens its grip somewhat, but it’s still nowhere near enough. Hvitserk hisses between his teeth as the tip of his brother’s tongue lightly flicks against his balls. Ubbe knows better than to indulge in touch there, sensitive as he is, but if there’s one thing his eldest brother likes to do it’s tease.

“Fuck you,” he mouths feebly as he locks eyes with Ubbe, who’s smirking at him between the soft licks and acting like he’s got all the time in the world. He tightens his grip on Ubbe’s hair in warning. “Stop… ah, fuck… stop messing around.” He pants out a demand of his own. “Open up, baby.”

The flash of that answering grin is dizzying, but Hvitserk hardly cares. What matters is that Ubbe doesn’t just obey, the way he only does when he’s been waiting for Hvitserk to snap, but gives him just what he wants. His brother’s lips part for him. Wrap around his cock at Hvitserk’s now-wordless urging, hot and wet and so fucking perfect he can’t help but jerk upward at the feeling. Ubbe’s hand finally tightens around him the way Hvitserk needs it to, finally moves at the pace he loves more than anything, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of Ubbe’s mouth around him and Ubbe’s arm locking in place over his belly.

Hvitserk groans as Ubbe’s head stills halfway down his cock. He knows this game. Knows it even before Ubbe’s fingers begin to tap out consent against his hip.

“You sure, baby?” he inquires, to an immediate answering hum that almost knocks the breath from his lungs for the way it buzzes through his cock. “Fuck, keep humming, keep…”

He thrusts up into Ubbe’s wet, wanting mouth at the next hum. Thrusts up as far as he knows Ubbe can take him, so far that his brother’s pleased hum almost switches to a slight gag, all the way until Ubbe’s mouth almost meets the fist he has wrapped around the base of Hvitserk’s cock. Lets Ubbe be the one to come up for air and suck his cock the way he loves before thrusting up into his mouth again.

Hvitserk grins wildly – knew you can fucking take it, he almost praises again the way he did the first time they did this – and wraps his hands around Ubbe’s head to keep him in place as his hips move upward. He thinks Ubbe knows the touch for the praise it is when he feels Ubbe smile around his cock, sees the flicker of a full grin that one moment Ubbe irreverently spits on his cock, and is allowed to keep fucking into his brother’s mouth in a way that’s got Ubbe shifting restlessly against the bed.

It isn’t long before they fall into the familiarity that feels so fucking good Hvitserk’s insides swoop and flutter at the sensations around him. Ubbe’s arm is heavy on his belly, with his hand occasionally squeezing Hvitserk’s hip in tandem with the lazy squeezes he offers his cock, and his mouth is a fucking dream. Hvitserk’s grinning up at the ceiling before long, swept up in the heady sense of Ubbe suckling and playing with his cock and letting him fuck his mouth at his own leisure.

He loses track of everything except the feeling of Ubbe’s mouth the second Ubbe quickens the pace. He fucks Ubbe’s mouth in the same frenzied tempo, chasing the feelings that fizz to life in his body, chasing that perfect mouth until Ubbe’s left gasping and moaning around his cock. He feels the peak right before it hits this time.

“I’m.. fuck”– he gasps as the coil inside him loosens abruptly –“I…”

His hips stutter as his breath catches in his throat and his mind fizzes wholly. Ubbe’s hands are his only anchor as he blanks and drifts a moment. He blinks. Groans as he feels Ubbe’s tongue lap at him and lick him clean. He meets his brother’s eyes as if through a haze. Smiles more giddily than before, swept up by the remaining fizzing feeling that’s settling in his body and the sated warmth that’s spreading through his limbs.

“C’mere,” he murmurs as he extends a hand to Ubbe. “Want you.”

Ubbe’s laugh mingles with the sound of the world rushing back in. There’s music now, still going in the room where Ubbe likes to craft furniture, and the farther-away muted sounds of running water and barking dogs outside their cabin. He smiles as the sun’s rays catch Ubbe’s face.

His brother hums a contented sound as he drifts up the bed to lay beside him. “Don’t you want that lollipop now?” grins Ubbe as Hvitserk immediately nudges a kiss against his throat and allows his hands to wander over the line of ink that travels all the way down to Ubbe’s thigh. Ubbe’s breath is a huff against his ear. “The one you said you wouldn’t share?”

“I’m a little busy right now.”

Ubbe’s smile is slow, radiant, as Hvitserk turns his head to gauge the response. “Oh?”

“You, at my mercy? The fuck’s a lollipop going to do against that,” he laughs as his hand dips beneath Ubbe’s waistband and he is rewarded with a sharp hiss of breath. “Relax, baby”– he teases, grinning, as Ubbe’s muscles tense beneath him, “gonna take you nice and slow.”

“Fuck off with your nice and slow.”

“The mouth on you, amazing,” snorts Hvitserk, “I don’t think I fucked it hard enough if you’re showing me lip like that right now.”

He’s still laughing when Ubbe kisses him.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine being a witcher and an old friend of Bjorn. In need of help, your path leads back to Kattegat, years after you've last seen your friend. - Part 2

Author's note: I should be studying physiology... Anyway, thinking of a name for the may-be series. "A fiendish scheme"?

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4)

______________________________________

”I also have a fiend's head, thought someone might pay me for it”

Bjorn let out a low chuckle. The way she talked about killing monsters always amazed him - she made it seem so easy, so common. He was fully aware that it was something she's been doing for the majority of her life, thus growing accustomed to the novelty that her occupation was. Not to mention, there weren't many witchers in Europe in general, for a plethora of reasons. It could be compared to a rare pearl growing familiar to its uncommon shine and color.

”Please, have a seat,” he said. ”Ubbe, Hvitserk, come inside too.”

(Y/N), however, didn’t seem at ease with the whole situation. In spite of not having seen Bjorn for a few long years, it felt more than impolite to act like a distant relative in his home.

”Bjorn, I know I do not possess any right to ask for a favor, I do not know you that well, and I know it has been a long time since we last met, but the issue is urgent and despite my many talents, I fear I may fail.”

The woman sat in front of the blond man, her face not hiding deep trouble and dark thoughts. Bjorn noticed that the deep scar that ran diagonally across her face was whiter than he had remembered: a sign that it was healing well, that (Y/N) stayed in good health despite her lifestyle. He had also noticed that her face had more discolorations.

What could possibly strike so much fear and uncertainty in this fearless woman?

Some slaves hurried around the hall to bring the celt and princes ale and food. They failed at hiding their interest in the newcomer: the weaponry, scars, peculiar attire... And most of all, they wondered how this utterly masculine woman managed to spark interest in Kattegat's princes. Some of the more observant, experienced, ones noticed a unique piece of jewelry hanging from (Y/N)'s neck, although most of it was covered underneath an untied linen shirt. From the little opening in her attire, various scars and burns were visible, all seemingly from different periods. One scar, in particular, looked concerning: it had regular lines across it as if it had to be sewed to close and heal.

”So how can I help you?” asked Bjorn. His gaze was filled with worry and questions, all this time focused on (Y/N). She took a sip of ale then reached into her shirt. Her calloused fingers took out a pendant resembling a head of a big cat, quite similar to a lynx, but not entirely.

”It seems that a friend had betrayed me. It would not bother me if it was for personal reasons, our lives are not simple. A man I saw die somehow came back to life. Had he done it to start anew somewhere else, I wouldn't mind. Truthfully, I could understand that. But he was promised gold and silver to bring my and another man’s head to an earl in Trondheim.” She fiddled with the chain on her neck and looked at the flickering flames of candles. ”There are many people wishing me death, it does not surprise me. But he was dear to me, the winter I grieved him was the longest winter in my life. And now he's back, stripped of honor and good will. Not too long ago, he slaughtered someone dear to me, whom I had grown up with. It was also the reason I had learned about him rising from the dead and hunting old friends. From our group, there is only him and I left, and I do not intend on being surprised by him.” Her hand clenched the pendant so hard, fingers turned white. ”I do not oppose being an axe for hire, hunting monsters is not a prosperous occupation... What he had done is more than trying to put food on his table.”

Her jaw clenched, Bjorn and Ubbe intensely stared at her, trying to put all the pieces together in their heads. Kattegat was going to become an epicenter of events it had never seen coming.

”That fiend that I have outside,” she motioned her head towards the door. ”Wouldn’t enter the pine woods from the southern side, the terrain it marked was weirdly shaped and unusual.” She looked at their lost expressions. ”So unless you have a bigger monster in those woods, a skilled witcher lives there.”

At that moment, king Ragnar entered the hall. He seemed like a lot of things: tired, ill, confused. His left hand rested on his side, the Northman must have been in pain. Limping slightly, he approached his sons and the stranger, the four of them sitting at a long table.

Suddenly, he stopped. His gaze wandered to the woman, while his mind tried to figure out who she was. Her face was unfamiliar to him.

”King Ragnar,” she bowed her head.

"And who are you?” he asked, a bit skeptical about the newcomer. Was she a slave he didn’t know of? His gaze traced her body from head to toe, not leaving any detail unseen.

If she was a thrall, she must be a damn strong one.

”I am (Y/N) of Pictland, daughter of Gail the Beheader,” she introduced herself, although none of those names meant anything to Ragnar. Seeing his continuous confusion, she spoke again. ”I’m a witcher.”

That didn’t end Ragnar’s curiosity and confusion, but it did put some order into his thoughts, he created some sort of an idea of who she was but the reason for her visit remained unknown to him: Ragnar could not recall any monster-related incident that would result in the town chipping in for a bounty.

”What is it that you want from my sons?” he asked. Maybe stranger, maybe not, but the safety of his sons was a top priority. Was it love or the desire for his kin to continue to rule Kattegat, that could be known only to him.

”I merely ask Bjorn to help me with a personal matter. I could never ask to engage the whole of Kattegat in my private issues.” She had this overwhelmingly serious aura that filled the hall with her confidence and might. ”I also have a fiend's head, it lived right outside Kattegat. Thought I might get paid.”

Ubbe and Hvitserk had curiosity written all over their faces. What do fiends look like? What sounds do they make? What is it like to fight one? They wanted to ask, really, but their father's inquiry about (Y/N)' identity made them hold back. For now, at least. Judging by the seriousness painted on her face and the heaviness of the story she had just told them, the two brothers silently came to the conclusion that they will have plenty of time to ask every question they could possibly want to be answered.

Ragnar’s gaze wandered back to the various weaponry (Y/N) was equipped with: two swords, a crossbow, and a multitude of different-sized knives hidden around her garments. He might not have been fond of placing daggers in shoes but Ragnar could easily spot the peculiar increase in the shape of the shoe.

The king was silent, still staring at (Y/N) with a curious gaze. His blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her body and soul, relentlessly trying to uncover all indecent secrets that might hide behind her keen irises and deep scars. What menace followed the cat-like pendant right to his doorstep?

He broke his silence, and with that one sentence, he nudged a snowflake that will inevitably become a raging avalanche in the upcoming days or weeks. It truly was a sentence.

"What do you need, witcher?"

A heavy boulder fell off (Y/N) shoulders, only to be replaced by a plantule of knowledge and awareness, that her plan was a step closer to becoming reality: the past and the future will become only closer to the present from now on. In some way, Bjorn knew that too, although at the moment he was unable to properly name the cradle of the anxious shadow that appeared in the corners of his mind and heart. Ubbe and Hvitserk, even though both were aware of what cards the future is bound to deal them, remained more calm and collected than Bjorn and the celt. Even if their fate was to stand beside their brother and his friend on a battlefield, they still remained just spectators in the bizarre conflict they accidentally found themselves to be a part of. They could leave this trouble at any time and no one could hold it against them.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Part 1 - Vikings: Una Flor

Summary: When someone returns from a journey, one would expect for them to return with trinkets and gifts from the journey. Apparently, Ragnar didn’t get the message and instead returned with a foreign flower his family wasn’t expecting.

Pairings: Ragnar x reader (platonic), Ragnarssons x reader (romantic)  

A/N: I would love to know what y’all thought of the first part to this new series. It will definitely be a little different from my previous work, but I’m excited to share it. 

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

All waited anxiously for the arrival of the men that after several months, had returned with whatever treasures they had taken from the raids. Amongst those in the crowd the sons of Ragnar; Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar along with Queen Aslaug waited patiently for the man to dock ship. It did not take long for the men aboard the ship to make their way to their loved ones amidst the cheers of celebration of another successful plunder.

The royal family were pleased to spot Ragnar as he made his way to his family, a proud and accomplished look to his face. He greeted his family with a jovial wave, walking toward them with his cloak loosely wrapped around his shoulders. 

His family greeted him with various forms of Welcome back, and Ragnar looked to Ivar, as the boy stared at his father with a furrowed brow.

“Is there someone underneath your cloak?” Ivar asked in bewilderment.

Ragnar chuckled as he pulled away his arm from himself and the cloak opened to reveal a younger woman nestled beside him, drawn close to him against the bitter cold as her own cloak was wrapped over her to hide most of her from sight.

“Come my sweet (Y/N), introduce yourself” he said.

Hesitantly, she pulled away the hood of her cloak and revealed her youthful features to Ragnar’s family as she nervously looked at them. She fidgeted where she stood, shivering from the cold and tightly holding onto her own cloak to stay warm.

“Tu familia?” she asked timidly, turning to him in confusion.

At his nod, her eyes widened in glee as she smiled widely and turned to them, leaving his side as she reached his son’s. Without another word, she grabbed Bjorn’s hands and kissed him on both cheeks.

“Un placer” she whispered in embarrassment as her cheeks reddened, reaching toward Ubbe and doing the same to all the brothers who merely watched her in fascination. After greeting them, she stood before Queen Aslaug and smiled despite not receiving one in turn. Taking the Queen’s hand in her own as she kneeled and pressed the back of the Queen’s hand to her forehead. 

Afterward with a nervous giggle, she returned to Ragnar’s side as she wrapped her arms around his waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek in pride.

“This is (Y/N), a girl I paid for in a place known as Iberia and I have brought her to be a bride” he said.

His son’s and wife bristled in anger but before they could protest, he said “So boys which one of you would be willing to make her your wife?”                                   ----------------------------

Seated at the head table, (Y/N) was placed between Sigurd and Ivar as she stared wide eyed at the abundance of food lain before her very eyes. Seeing her apprehension, Sigurd placed a few things on her plate as she stared at him with her eyes glittering in excitement. Queen Aslaug watched the interactions of her son and the young girl that was apparently “bought” and turned to her husband.

“How is it that you came to find this girl?” she asked taking sips of her mead.

“We were caught in a massive storm that veered us greatly off course, it lasted for several days and it seemed that we would never see it calming at last the rains calmed and the wind had blown us to a coastal village” he said. “The locals were kind and many offered their homes as we intended on fixing many of the damages our boats had received. Floki and I were brought to the home of the richest man but also the most miserly.”

“Why would you say that?” Bjorn asked, having been listening in to his father.

“The man had eight children and whenever he set any of them out to trade or buy, he had each of them line up and have them mention the price and many other things to him before making sure they hadn’t spent more than what he thought necessary. The poor girl was treated worse than her brothers, the majority of my stay I had the assumption she was his slave with all that he expected of her.”

“Is that how you bought the girl?” asked Hvitserk. “Thinking she was the slave?”

“Oh no, I had stumbled into her room as she was changing and her brothers were quick to go to their old man. From what little I understood of their language, they claimed I had shamed them and needed to pay for her and take her with me. In his fit of rage, the man grabbed her long hair and cut it off at the ears as punishment apparently.”

All looked to the girl that was happily munching away at her food with stuffed cheeks, stopping mid-chew when she felt their stares. Sheepishly she swallowed and timidly smiled when she looked to them. As previously mentioned by Ragnar, (Y/N) had her (h/c) hair messily cut and near her jaw.

“Of course, in the time that she has been with us, her hair has grown some but it was much shorter. But I argued for some time with the man that I hadn’t shamed them, but eventually I agreed to take the girl and during the trip came to care for her as a daughter. It is on the voyage with some difficulty she told me about herself, and she revealed that her mother was a princess to a tribe of warriors that was kidnapped. I figured that she could be a wife for one you boys and provide an alliance of this group if one of you can somehow catch her eye and find the location of these warriors.” 

The boys scoffed, they assumed it would be a simple task as (Y/N) seemed to be naïve to the advances of men and could be swayed to like them, but their interest was certainly peaked that she was a grandchild to a group of warriors. 

With a smirk, Ragnar took a sip from his chalice.

“One more thing, (Y/N) is still learning our language. She understands some phrases and can say some things, but she is at a lost for the most part” he chuckled. “I will give you all an introduction and leave it to all of you.” 

A sharp whistle and (Y/N) quickly got out of her seat to stand beside Ragnar. He cleared his throat and spoke thickly, “Te presento a mi familia. As visto a mi esposa Aslaug.” (I present to you my family, you have seen my wife Aslaug)

“Ella es muy bella” (Y/N) said sweetly. (She is very beautiful)

Ragnar then pointed to Bjorn, “El es mi hijo mayor Bjorn. El es un gran guerrero.” (This is my eldest son Bjorn, he is a great warrior)

She stuck closer to Ragnar,“No me sorprende con su estatura.” (It doesn’t surprise me with his stature)

“Este es mi hijo Ubbe, un hombre sabio” (This is my son Ubbe, a wise man)

“El parece mucho como usted Ragnar” (He looks a lot like you Ragnar)

“A lado de el esta mi otro hijo, Hvitserk. A el le encanta mucho la comida.” (Beside him is my other son, Hvitserk. He loves food a lot)

“Oh! Seguramente el le gustaría platillos de mi pueblo.” (Oh! Surely he will like the dishes of my village)

“Del lado tuyo es mi hijo Sigurd, el sabe como tocar el oud” (Beside you is my son Sigurd, he knows how to play the oud.)

“Me encantaría escuchar cuando el toca” (I would love to hear when he plays)

“Y finalmente este es mi hijo Ivar un muchacho listo.” (And finally is my son Ivar, a clever boy)

“Ivar?”she gasped in excitement and realization. “El es como mi hermano Ivan.” (He is like my brother Ivan)

“My name is Ivar, not Ivan” the boy scoffed as he took a drink from his cup.

She scrunched her face in annoyance, clearly trying to find the right words to explain what she was trying to say and called out to Floki. The man in question looked to the girl as she pointed to Ivar in frustration.

Once again she said, “Ivan.”

The man giggled and sat beside Ivar.

“She knows your name Ivar” Floki laughed, “But she has a younger brother whose name is Ivan.”

“Well what does that boy have to do with her saying his name when she sees me?” Ivar asked.

“Because Ivan happens to be exactly like you Ivar, a little boy with broken legs. Only difference between you two is that Ivan has a sunny disposition” Floki giggled.  

“Well would you look at that Ivar, she only sees you as nothing but another little boy that should be pitied” Sigurd sneered. “Looks like we can count you out.”

Ivar scowled at his brother but said nothing. 

“No entiendo, que están diciendo Floki?” (I don’t understand, what are they saying Floki?)

“No te preocupes, solo son tonterías de muchachos” Floki said. (Don’t worry it is merely boyish foolishness)

She turned to Sigurd and Hvitserk, gesturing with her hands “You play and you dance, yes?”

“Are you asking if I can play?” Sigurd asked. 

Instantly the girls face lit up as she nodded excitedly, once again gesturing him playing on the oud. Taken by her sweet nature, Sigurd stood to play his oud as she had requested and instantly (Y/N) stood up from her seat taking Hvitserk by the hand to dance. In comparison to her light and quick steps, Hvitserk stumbled to keep up with her as she danced in a way that none of the Ragnarssons had seen before. She was not shy to fix Hvitserk’s movements and laughing when he would stumble, not out of mockery but in excitement that he was learning.

“I am going to cut in and see if I can do better, I’m sure that the dance isn’t as hard as Hvitserk makes it out to be” Ubbe said as he took his younger brother’s place.  

Both Bjorn and Ivar looked on at their brothers make fools of themselves as they struggled to figure out the quick steps of the girls dance, attempting with the little she knew of their language and gestures as to how they would communicate with each other.

“You don’t truly think one of us will marry the girl, do you father?” Bjorn asked seriously.

“I fully expect it Bjorn, it doesn’t matter who wins her heart but I intend for that girl to marry into our family even if it means forcing one of you” Ragnar said taking a long drink from his cup. “None of you might realize it yet, but that girl is more special than any of you know.”

With that, Ragnar said no more and Ivar was staring intently at the girl wondering what could be so special about this foreign flower that his father would want one of them to marry her.  

Tag List (Open) 

@heavenly1927, @princesscornbread, @fairyofvoid

@ivarthebloodyking, @shit-i-say-shit-i-think

@youbloodymadgenius, @youbleed-justtoknow-yourealive, 

@leahh19​, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ 

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[mystic-shadows42]

The Lothbroks’ Reaction At Your Refusal to Marry Them

Bjorn didn’t know what to do or say at first. He scoffed while looking at you. Never has he ever felt so offended before. He was hurt but he wouldn’t let it show.

“You reject my hand?”

“Yes,” you replied bluntly.

Now Bjorn was mad. He got so close that his deep huffs of anger were pushing your hair back. His tall figure stood directly in front of you. He was trying to intimidate you into submission.

“You’re going to regret making that decision.”

“Am I?” You countered back, not backing down to the great Bjorn.

You were about to walk away when Bjorn pulled your arm back to face him once more.

“I can make you change your mind.”

“Really? How so?” You played along.

He stood incredibly close that it sent shivers down your spine.

“My room. Five minutes.”

“Is that all it takes?” You asked teasingly. Bjorn pulled you close to his chest.

“You know I can last a lot longer than that. I swear on the gods by the end of the night you’ll change your mind.”

“We’ll see.”

Once you shook your head no at Ubbe his facial expression immediately changed.

“Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not about trust Ubbe. I love you with all my heart, but marriage is not for me. I choose to be a free woman.”

“A free woman. Can you not be free and be with me?” Ubbe kept on staring at you, waiting for an answer. “If this is about my past marriages then forget about them. Think of only us.”

“You can’t discount Margrethe or Torvi. Margrethe was your first love. You will always be tied with Torvi because of the child you share. Both of them missed out on so much because of the ties that held them here. I don’t want to be in just one place just because I am married.”

Ubbe brushed his beard listening to your every word. He knew you were an adventurer that likes to wander freely. He admired that about you.

“We can visit many lands. Scour the earth for fertile soil so we can grow life. I wouldn’t tie you down so you can miss out on it all. We can do all of that together.”

You took in what he said with great care.

“What does marriage mean to you, Ubbe?”

There was a long pause. He no doubt had the answer but your question gave him a hint at what you were feeling.

“A life partner.”

That was when Ubbe understood. In his past two marriages, he had made that same promise that wasn’t fulfilled.

“Must I prove my worth to you?”

“You don’t have to. It is my decision to not marry.”

“Then I shall gladly fight for your hand. No matter how long it takes because I am stubborn and will not stop until I can change your mind.”

Hvitserk didn’t know what to make of your answer. He had been cocky and overly confident that you would simply accept his proposal. So many women wooed over him that he didn’t think of this outcome.

“You’re joking right?” He asked as he chuckled before he stopped smiling completely.

“I think you only want to marry me so I won’t leave. You’re not proposing out of love Hvitserk, it’s out of duty. Having me as a wife will only benefit you. Perhaps your brothers and others will take you seriously if you do so.”

Hvitserk scoffed at what you said and looked around. You knew you were right just by the look on his face.

“You should be so lucky. I would treat you better than any other. Women would envy the way you live.”

“I do not wish to be envied.”

“Let me guess. You wish to be loved.” Hvitserk took out his blade and twirled it in his hand. “Let me know when you change your mind.”

“Maybe one day if you feel as I do.”

Hvitserk left in a hurry. He was certainly not ready for marriage. He was only ready to elevate his status.

“Is there someone else?”

“No, no one else. I’m just not ready to be married quite yet.”

“I’d never pressure you into it. Just whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here.”

You placed your hand on the side of his cheek admiring how kind he was being with you. Though the same couldn’t be said with his brothers.

After your refusal to marriage, Sigurd was short with his family. Picking arguments with Ivar and being crueler to him than usual. He’d criticize his mother for drinking too much. He even shamed Ubbe and Hvitserk for the way they use women.

He had been like them once, then you came along. 

Once you caught word of Sigurd’s short temper you had sweet talked him to be mad at you, not everyone else around him.

He was so adamant on showing you he was still a good guy that he invited everyone into the great hall for food while he played a song just for you. He even sung.

You knew eventually you’d be ready. For now you’d just enjoy the journey.

“No,” Ivar growled. He pulled you closer by the back of your neck while he had his finger pointing in your face. “No. You will not deny me.”

“It’s my choice.”

“I’ll never let you have a chance to leave me. I’ll have people watch you day and night if you get any bright ideas. We could marry tonight if I choose to,”

“Let me go Ivar.” You shook him off of you. His blazing blue eyes were staring right back into yours.

“It’s not always going to be your way. You can’t force me to marry you.”

“I certainly can.” You shook your head at Ivar and decided to take your leave. 

“Try to leave and there’ll be consequences.”

Your curiosity got the best of you. “Like what? You’ll hurt me?”

“No, I could never harm you. I can’t say the same for others.”

You turned around and let Ivar come to you. Your eyes were already starting to become glossy.

“I thought you said you loved me?”

Ivar placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

“I do love you. That’s why I want to marry you.”

“Then why are you doing this? You’re making me feel helpless.”

“You have such a big heart. That’s what first drew me to you in the first place. Marry me and you won’t ever feel as you do now. I’ll never have people’s lives at stake unless they try to harm you.”

You looked into Ivar’s eyes. Everything he was saying could be lies for all you knew but you knew he’d make everybody else’s lives harder.

That is why you had told him no. Though you loved Ivar, he scared you somewhat. It was not knowing how’d he act every time you woke up that you knew that couldn’t be what love is like.

[slowlyandthenallatonce]

Devil That I Know

A/N: Hello, my second fic and I go straight for one of my major Rare Pairs. Wow *Owen Wilson Voice*. Well anyway, this starts off by taking place in season 5, you'll know when, and finishes after the show kinda ends. Again, I would like to thank my Snoop sister @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer for reading it.

Devil That I Know

Rating: Mature, 17+

Pairing: Alfred/Ubbe, aka Ulfred

CW: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Religious Conflict

Summary: “Sometimes I fear we have inherited our fathers’ curse.”

“My God does not believe in curses, Ubbe.” Alfred sighed and rolled over, shrugging the other man’s arms from around him, his back now turned to Ubbe. “Even if that were so, He would protect us from the curse.”

“You mean our God, now.” Because that was the part Ubbe stuck to.

“Well, if He truly is your God as you say, why don’t you pray that he alleviates the curse you’re so damn afraid of.”

Ubbe’s brows furrowed. He curled himself around the other’s back, despite Alfred’s obvious hint to be left alone. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” Ubbe consoled him quietly, slipping one arm under Alfred’s head, and the other over his chest and cupping his heart. He pressed a tender kiss right behind his ear, a soft spot only Ubbe knew.

Alfred sucked a sharp, deep breath through his nose, and closed his eyes. “I know….I just-” It was difficult to compose exactly what he was trying to convey. To understand how he felt. “I hate to hear such things. You Vikings are utterly hopeless sometimes. All you seem to care about is the bitter cold you were born into, and the horribly violent ways you wish to die. When you should be fearing the latter, what you truly fear are the punishments of your gods and the curses upon your families.” As if to make a point, he looked over his shoulder at the older man as best he could while still tangled in his arms and legs. “If you ask me, it seems like an utterly miserable way of life.” He settled back down in a tired slump. “Forgive me if maybe….I want to have some hope….”

I want to pretend there is no curse, and maybe it will go away.

He refused to say.

_______________________________

“Do you believe it is possible my father was cursed?” He tried casually while breaking fast. It preyed on his mind, what Ubbe suggested, and hopefully his mother had an answer to console him with.

Judith dropped her knife to the plate with a graceless clatter. She fixed Lagertha, the other whom Alfred requested join them, with a calculated and forcefully emotionless look. The fact his mother tried so hard to conceal herself, told him everything.

Lagertha only raised a brow at her, amused at the depressing turn their morning conversation took, and turned to Alfred, blinking with feigned innocence. “Is that why you have asked us both here, my King? What brought upon this curiosity for the love your father and my Ragnar shared?”

“I had not mentioned a word about Ragnar, lady, but if you are so willing to bring him to light, then I ask the same to you. Do you believe Ragnar was cursed?” He kept his voice level, he pretended not to care whatever the answer would be. He tried not to look eager to hear her reply.

Lagertha brought her cup of mead to her lips, taking a small sip, placing it back to the table slowly and gently. She tested his patience. “No. I do not believe Ragnar was cursed.”

Judith took this opportunity to speak. “Neither was your father….” She looked to Lagertha again, a silent conversation between the two past Queens. His mother did not have the strength to look at her son, keeping her eyes trained on the shield-maiden. “But- their love for each other….” She sighed, her eyes dropping to her plate. “Yes. We believe was cursed.”

We.

She spoke for both of them. So they’ve had this conversation before.

If Judith, Lagertha, and Ubbe had all believed this, who else did? Did everyone? Have they all known this whole time, and lacked the courtesy to inform their King?

Or have I been lying to myself all along.

“You did not answer my question, my King.” Lagertha gained his attention. “Why do you ask about Ragnar and Athelstan? It should be of no importance now, whether they were cursed or not. They are both dead.”

The coldness of her words made him flinch. The lack of care in her voice was a terrifying thing. Alfred knew it was a ruse, of course Lagertha cared, but she was far better at hiding her weak emotions than he and his mother. “You are right, it is not important.”

“Hm.” She was amused once more. Amused, but challenging, a hint of mischief laced with poison. “Well, it was your God that cursed them.”

It was hard to tell, all focus lost in his sudden overwhelming irritation, but he thought he saw his own mother smirk at the words. “My God does not curse his people. It is your gods who so violently punish those who do not appease them.”

“Oh, but the Gods I worship do not care if a woman loves another woman, or a man loves another man. It is yours that condemns those who should sleep with their own sex. So tell me again, King Alfred, whose God is it that cursed Ragnar and Athelstan?”

He was briefly stunned into silence. “Your gods truly do not care?” He asked quietly, disbelieving, but possibly hopeful.

“They do not.” It was his mother who replied. Judith picked up her knife again, exhausting her every word with the cut of her blade, the sound it made scraping against the plate jarring. “Be careful with your words Alfred, do not speak ill of a faith you know nothing about. Do not pretend to be above what you never bothered to learn, never sought to ask beyond what God and Christ have already condemned. God and Christ do not know either, why would they?”

“Mother….”

But Judith continued. “As Christians, we call the pagans heathens and snakes. We see the Viking Gods as merciless, unjust, and sinful. Perhaps they are. But God is just as merciless, he has just as much wrath as Odin, and Thor. If you really wanted to know the truth, Alfred, you would know that no one, not even God and Christ, is without sin. And just like the Allfather, he will punish those who do not appease him. Why do you think we were cast from Eden? Why do you think we are sent to hell?”

And Alfred knew, somehow, she was right, but he would never tell….

Sometimes I hate my God.

_______________________________

Lagertha knew something. It put Alfred at unease. Ubbe was quick to notice.

“You need me tonight.” It was not a question.

Alfred rubbed the soreness in his temples, the only way to break the curse is by taking away its only chance at flourishing. “We can not keep doing this, Ubbe….”

The viking scoffed. “And you were the one telling me not to worry about the curse.”

He tried to send Ubbe an intense glare, a warning to back off, but Ubbe puffed his chest and crossed his arms. “This is not about the curse- there is no curse to begin with-”

“Then why are you thinking about it, hm? I should never have said anything-”

“Ubbe, this is not about the curse.” He tried again, sounding more confident. “It’s just- wrong.”

“Why?”

“You say are you are Christion now, you should know why.”

The Viking could not help his eye roll. “I have not been Christian long, do not expect me to know everything, Alfred. Even so, does God have a reason? Or do you say it is wrong just because he says it is wrong?”

“Let’s not forget you also have a wife, and I am betrothed.” Alfred snapped. “I doubt she’d be fond of all of this.”

Ubbe smirked. “Your betrothed prefers the company of Bjorn, and Torvi and I have an understanding when it comes to….situations such as these.” Alfred’s brow furrowed, confused. Ubbe’s eyes hardened, completely serious. “She’ll most likely be with Lagertha tonight. You understand?”

Taken aback, he shouted. “I don’t understand a single thing about you people!”

Ubbe laughed. “‘You people!’ Please, despite faith, there is no difference between us. We feel the same, and the power of feeling can not be stopped, undone, or changed. If it’s of any help to your understanding, your mother will most likely be joining them.”

It would be embarrassing to admit that Alfred’s jaw physically opened at that, but it was the truth. “Are you suggesting my mother is fornicating with other women?”

“If only you had heard the stories!” His head was thrown back with joy. “Lagertha, Ecbert, and your mother enjoyed each other very much at our age.”

Alfred became more angry by the minute. “I can not even begin to fathom the idea that you discuss such stories with your elders.”

“Athelstan told a few of them himself.”

“My father is a saint in my eyes! You know this, how dare you expose his sin to me!”

“Your father wasn’t a saint Alfred.” Ubbe clipped, his tone dark. “He was an angel.”

This was enough to dampen his anger, once more utterly confused. Why was he always confused when it came to Ubbe? “What are you implying?”

“Athelstan was an angel to my father.” He began. “Ragnar had even envisioned him after death, reaching out to him, and Ragnar had no longer been visited by Odin since Athelstan’s death.” Ubbe stepped closer. “It was no secret how they felt for each other, but I observe. I have always observed, and that is why my brothers will never understand what Athelstan means to me. He was the only thing that made Ragnar happy, it is why he suffered so much after….”

Alfred sighed. “Ubbe, they were cursed, you were right and I see that now. All they did was suffer. If this continues, we will end just as they did.”

Ubbe said nothing, he only silently turned, and slammed open the doors of Alfred’s study. He disappeared down the halls of the villa.

It wasn’t long until Lagertha, who had been lingering outside for a while, decided to enter. She was an unexpected visitor, and frankly, not one he wanted right now.

He grit his teeth. “Is there anything I can do to assist you, Lagertha?”

She took a seat at his study table, pulling books away. “I’ve come to help you.”

“Thank you Lagertha, but there’s nothing I need help with.”

“You don’t understand the curse Ubbe speaks of.” She said gently.

“My mother and yourself explained it quite clearly to me this morning. Ragnar and my father’s love for each other was cursed. Those were your exact words.”

She teased. “Indeed they were, you have an excellent memory my King.” Lagertha reached out and pushed his hair away from his face in a maternal manner he didn’t expect. Did she think him as much of a son as her own? “What you don’t understand is, their love for each other wasn’t cursed. They were cursed because they came from two separate worlds that tried to keep them from loving each other.”

Alfred tilted his head at her. “It doesn’t change that they still suffered.”

Her head shook. “No, no they were happy, truly. Ubbe says your father was an angel, but even he is mistaken. Athelstan was Unryn and Ragnar Unnyr. They fought against both of those worlds, and it created a power, one so strong that I believe your god, and my gods, were afraid of. I have grown to believe that only once in the world's history did our gods join forces, to put an end to the love which would overpower them. That is why they died. My gods sent Floki to Athelstan and your god sent Ragnar to Aelle.”

“Then the gods succeeded in keeping them apart.” Alfred turned away. “Through death they are apart, my father in heaven and your husband in Valhalla.”

Lagertha leaned forward, a warm smile across her face. She whispered to him, “You don’t know that.” She stood after, giving him a stroke across the shoulders. “All you have done by sending Ubbe away is appease the curse, not break it. You are young, and full of life. Sin Alfred. Sin while you can, and let the gods put an end to the sin when it is even too tempting for them. What I’ve learned with age, what I wish I had understood in my earlier years, there is always more time to appease the gods than you believe.”

He paused while she left, one question on his mind. “Lagertha.” She stopped, turning to him slowly, a brow quirked. “Have you had relations with my mother?”

“Why yes, my King.” She laughed. “Everyone knows that. Just as everyone knows your betrothed has relations with my son.”

As she left, Alfred muttered to himself. “Everyone but the King apparently.”

_______________________________

“I’m sad to see your hair go.” Ubbe said, but fondly, carefulling snipping Alfred’s locks with a blade. “It makes you look more youthful.”

“That is precisely why it must go.”

“Your hair has been long since I first saw you. When I first kissed you.”

Alfred huffed, but he was smiling. “How could I forget, I happened to be there when it occurred you know? Are you going to relay the whole narrative to me now? Then you shall hear it from my perspective after.”

Ubbe took a moment, putting his hands down on Alfred’s shoulders, then took up the blade again and cut more of his hair. “It was an equally terrible and welcoming night. Hvitserk and I came to negotiate with your father and the Bishop for York.” He paused, looking at Alfred through the mirror in front of them. “Your brother was there then too. Then we were sent to another tent while you….discussed our offer. You came to me later, before they were finished with us.” He smirked. “Hvitserk could see it in your face you know, it’s why he left and patted us both on the back. How young he was, sex was still a boyish lustful concept to him then, he hadn’t yet grown to know of it’s intimacies.”

Alfred blushed, and shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. “He knew, did he?”

“Yes….” Then Ubbe finished the story quickly. “Then we kissed. That was all.”

“That was all? I thought Vikings loved telling stories. You certainly kept it brief.”

Ubbe raised his brows, looking Alfred straight in the eyes through his mirror. “You are flushed down to your chest, I didn’t want to embarrass you further.”

Alfred looked at his chest, and realized he was extremely flushed, so he put the thought out of his mind. He trained his eyes on the floor, Lagertha’s words trapped in his thoughts, and he only wanted to understand her words better. “Who is Unryn? A god of yours?”

Ubbe halted for a moment, the blade slicing his thumb, but he brought it up to his mouth and licked the blood away, continuing as if nothing had startled him. “Where did you hear that from?”

“Lagertha mentioned the name. Unryn and Unnyr.”

He brushed his fingers through Alfred’s hair. “Unryn is not a god or a person….” He sighed suddenly, dropping his hand as if made melancholy by the word. “It is an idea.”

Alfred frowned, and turned around in the chair to face him. “I don’t understand.”

There was a shrug. “It is beyond understanding.”

“Well there must be something you can say about it.”

Ubbe looked hesitant to share, but he gave in. “Freyja, the kind goddess, the loving lady, had powers of sight. While she had many lovers, she knew that she only had one true love, but they had not yet been together because her fated husband, Óðr, was fighting in battle most his life. The trickster god Loki, did not believe Óðr had ever been real at all, he claimed that divine love did not exist.

“So Freyja went in search of him. She spent eternity wandering the realms, weeping tears of blood and gold, looking for Óðr. She too had no real proof of his existence but what she had seen of them in her dreams. But she believed they were fated, and she loved him.”

Alfred thought this over, but wondered. “So then, what does that make Unryn and Unnyr? How does it fit into this story?”

“Unnyr is the journey. The painful feeling deep in someone's bones that they must go out and search until their eyes are bloody from how hard they’ve been looking. It doesn’t go away for all of eternity.

“Unryn is the fated love, and the point of rest. It is the idea that there are very rare and fated people whose divine love would not be stopped even by Ragnarok.”

Alfred swallowed. He spoke quietly. “And what do you say of Unryn?”

“It is said we all have Unryn. There are Vikings that spend their lifetime stuck in Unnyr for their Unryn. Some, like Loki, don’t believe it exists at all. It is a contradictory concept, for Unryn to be when you finally rest, but Unnyr to be spent in eternity. That Unryn cannot be stopped, and yet it cannot be found.”

“It sounds to me like you do not believe it.”

Ubbe shook his head. “I do not want to. Love more powerful than the gods? That frightens me, and being stuck among Unnyr would drive anyone mad. Trust me Alfred, it is not the kind of story you want to believe in.”

Alfred fidgeted with his hands and cleared his throat. “I was only ten and seven years old at the time, you perhaps two decades and three years, I don’t know because I never asked. I had seen you fight in battle. You seemed to me merciless, and yet also merciful, and I could never understand why I thought that about you.

“When you and Hvitserk came to make negotiations that night, I knew that my father would never agree to them, but I wanted time. So I convinced my father to listen to your proposal, and speak it over. I truly didn’t know what to expect, walking to the tent you were kept in. It was at a time in my life when I barely understood the wrath of God, and his teachings. All I knew was that….”

He looked at Ubbe, who was now sitting on the edge of his bed a short distance away. “All I knew was that, when Ragnar had come to England a few years prior….when he had come to die that is, he held me as if I were his own son. And he looked at me-” Remembering Ragnar’s broken face in the moment welled tears in Alfred’s eyes. “He looked at me like he was looking into the eyes of God. I was the last piece of my father left, and it was like I was the last thing he needed to see before leaving in peace.”

He shuddered at the thought. “I had never seen so much warmth, and yet so much death in a man.”

Alfred got lost in the thought of his own words, he was silent. “And you came to me that night because….”

“I came because I wanted to understand. I’ve only ever wanted to understand the Vikings. They are, as you said, contradictory, and alluring in every way. You find warmth in death, you see glory in pain.” He looked sternly into Ubbe’s eyes. “And you believe in curses but not in true love. I would look at you, and I would see more life in your eyes than in my own God, who values life over all things. I wanted to have that kind of experience while I still had time to learn. I wanted to live before my father spoiled me into ignorance and the duties of the throne under Christ.”

“Did you get what you wanted that night? Did you get to experience life as I do?”

“I’m not sure anymore. I suppose I am as we have been cursed to be.” He felt a tear drop. “Conflicted.”

Ubbe beckoned him with a silent gesture. He wrapped an arm around Alfred’s shoulder after he settled beside him. “Continue with the story. I am enjoying it.”

“Well, I entered the tent, and you were standing there, and I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment. I remember it all disappearing in my head. Everything I had planned to ask, to say, Ragnar, my father, was all gone. I could barely even remember Hvitserk being there.”

“So, I left you speechless.” Ubbe smirked.

“I thought you wanted me to continue the story.”

“Forgive me, continue.”

“There’s not much else after that I suppose. You spoke to me, and I didn’t say a word. I remember nodding my head a few times, and it was just- it was the way you raised your hand to my cheek, it wasn’t even the kiss that followed. It was your hand on my cheek that my heart stopped, in a moment of death, and when I closed my eyes we kissed. With my first kiss I was brought back to life.”

“That was very sweet. I was your first kiss?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Don’t get all cheeky, now. Are you going to finish cutting my hair? It looks ridiculous.”

Ubbe laughed. “Yes, I will finish your hair. Come.” They stood once more, Alfred sitting down on his little stool and Ubbe taking up his blade. “I don’t want you to think wrong of me. The story you told, your story, it was much more beautiful than mine.”

“You didn’t really tell yours.”

“Mine doesn’t matter.” Ubbe shrugged. “You know, some Vikings wait to cut their hair, growing it long, until they meet their love. Like a symbol, their fated love is the first to cut their hair.”

“That why you haven’t cut yours yet? You don’t believe in fated love.”

“No.” He smiled. “Because I look better with long hair than you.”

“Laugh all you like. I’ll cut all yours off in your sleep and see if you laugh then.”

Ubbe smiled wider. “Oh Alfred, maybe I would let you.

_______________________________

It had been countless years since that kiss, and since they had fought together in battle. Alfred had long accepted the fact that he and Ubbe had to move on from each other, or risk their fathers curse. He hadn’t expected to ever see Ubbe again.

And yet, he had sent warning to Wessex that he would be coming to visit as an old ally, and not to take the threat of his ships.

Alfred shook in his seat, gripping the throne tightly with nerves. He sent Elsewith and his son away for the time, preferring them not to be bothered by the return of Vikings. Peaceful, and allied, but still Vikings.

Ubbe strolled down the hall, like more than the King he was, and bowed respectfully at the throne, but Alfred spent little time wasting with all the formalities of ruling and invited him to lunch in his suite, and there his nerves settled in Ubbe’s comfort.

There, Ubbe poured him a glass of drink he had brought from the place he had traveled to most during their time apart. “The Golden Land, we’ve been calling it. For years we’ve spent there, and called it such, because there is no other way to describe it.”

“How far west did you say you went to find this land?”

“I’m not even sure Alfred, very far. It is past Greenland.”

“Greenland? There’s a gold land and a green land? Tell me about that one.”

Ubbe shook his head. “No, you don’t want to hear about that one. Trust me.” He trailed off, looking over Alfred fondly. “Your hair is long again. It’s always long when I come back to you.”

“I see you never ended up cutting yours.”

“Not once.”

He laughed. “What brings you all the way back to Wessex?”

Ubbe swallowed, his jaw tight. “My brother, Hvitserk.”

He remembered why he shook so much before, and he did so again, very visibly. “I’m sorry Ubbe.” Alfred trembled. “He passed away only two days ago, your timing is both ironic and tragic.”

“It’s ok Alfred.” He shook his head. “I know.”

He frowned. “But how-”

“I know of course you won’t believe me when I say this, but I understand that, Odin told me.”

“No, I-” And he didn’t know how but, “I believe you.”

“There was a woman, a citizen of yours actually, she sent me many letters about him. I am unsure how they could have possibly gotten to me, seeing as few people knew how to find me. For all I know, they could have spent years in travel, she may not even be here anymore. But she worried for him. I came as soon as I’d seen them.” He took a drink of his wine. “How did it happen, Alfred?”

Alfred took a deep breath. “He took his own life. While I pray for him, it is a sin against God and he will not be accepted into heaven….nor Valhalla as I understand.”

“You understand correctly.” Ubbe sighed and looked away, towards some distant wall. “Hvitserk was so easy to love. He was truly the most loving out of all Ragnar’s sons. You may disagree and say it was me, but Hvitserk had a heart big enough to love everyone. But when you love everyone, it is easier to be broken by them.” Ubbe looked back at Alfred. “He could not bear the weight of the conflict as we have, Alfred. He’s had a history with drugs, ale, and misery, and had you known that, you might have not converted him.”

“I’m so sorry….”

Ubbe shook his head again with a small smile. “I don’t blame you Alfred.” Then his smile turned bitter and sad. “But you must also not blame me.”

There was a sinking feeling in his chest. “What for?”

“I’ve also come to seek revenge for him.” And while there was no reason for it, Ubbe tried to explain himself. “It is just our way. Had he a more honorable death, I would not have come.”

That sinking feeling, he was starting to think, was not just in his head. “I understand.” He fiddled with his chalice, trying not to spill from his trembling. “How will you do it then?”

Ubbe put down his glass of wine and reached for Alfred’s hand. “It’s already been done.”

Alfred huffed, blinking away tears. “My mother would be quite proud of you for that.”

“It’s alright, it’s slow acting, and painless, we have time.”

He only nodded his head to himself. “Good, good.”

Holding his hand, Ubbe started to massage his palm. “When did you begin to understand so much Alfred?”

“It was shortly after Ivar died. I kept dreaming of the days I played chess with him. Only we weren’t young, we were our old selves, like on the day of battle. And in the dream I spoke the same words to him I did that day, I spoke of how life always triumphs over death. But he would still beat me in the end. He would say nothing, only smile, and I knew that he was the only one of us that ever understood anything. He was always the smartest. And so we’d start over, and I’d get angrier repeating the words, and he’d only smile at me with his hauntingly blue eyes. Then I eventually stopped believing what I had told him.

“In the last game, in my dream, I had told him he was right, your gods were right. Death is how we end, and life is not at all like spring. We do not return.”

Ubbe frowned. “That does not sound like understanding, it sounds like giving up.”

“No, no, that was not the end.” His eyes watered and he could barely see, but he smiled more genuinely than he had since Ubbe left all those years ago. “I finished saying that to him, and for the first time in the game he made a sound. He laughed at me, and he shook his head with glee. And Ivar said ‘you don’t know that, you don’t know anything.’” Alfred chuckled, nodding his head to himself. “He didn’t finish the game. Ivar stood from his seat, and I watched him walk out of our little room with no crutch or hobbling, as if he were never a cripple at all.”

Clearing his throat. “That is when I understood everything. I continue to have faith, I believe in God, and I love Christ, but I accept that I truly don’t know anything.”

Ubbe huffed. “That is good. I only have one more question.”

“I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”

“All those years ago, when we argued about the curse, and you wanted to give up on us, what changed your mind? You came to me later as if you'd forgotten about it, and we spoke of our first kiss.”

Alfred laughed, he was starting to feel tired. “Lagertha is very convincing.”

“Yes, yes, that is very true. But what did she say then, that changed your mind?”

“She said I was empowering the curse by denying how I felt for you. I decided, if it really wanted us apart, it would find its own way.”

Ubbe nodded slowly. “I want to finish telling you my part of our story.”

“I would love to hear it.”

“You said once that the moment you experienced life was the moment I touched your cheek, well….” He took a deep breath. “Hvitserk left us alone for the time you had come. For me it was the way the flames of the candles flickered in your eyes, and the soft glow it put on your cheeks, and I had to touch you there. I had to feel the light radiating beneath your skin. You say you felt the glory of death, as a viking would entering Odin’s hall, but on you, I had seen a golden halo, and touching your cheek had been like I was touched by the holy ghost.” Like for the first time, Ubbe touched his cheek again, and Alfred was not afraid to die, because he knew it would feel just as this did.

Alfred kissed him again, and he savored the feeling of Ubbe’s beard on his skin, and his hand clutching the back of his hair. When they separated, Ubbe put a blade in his hand. “I want you to cut my hair Alfred.”

He nodded, gripping a section of the Vikings long braid and trying to cut through the thick locks just about shoulder length. He held the length of braid tightly to his chest. “Be sure to insist I am buried with this. They will not understand, but make up some nonsense about viking honor, traditions, and claims of peace. If that’s what it takes.”

“I will.” Ubbe said, and kissed him again, shortly and sweetly. “My only sadness is that I will not be able to see you after death. It is the true fulfillment of our fathers curse.”

Alfred smiled, and held his face gently. “Despite God, I’m sure the great Ragnar Lothbrok found a way to visit my father in heaven.

“You will too.”

♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱

Tag list: @punkrocknpearls

A/N: Welp. I really love mythology and stuff, but I had to expand on the idea of Unn, because there's actually not much out there on the power of Unn. I took a bit of a creative liberty with it, cause all there really is about it is the duality of the two and the 'fated love' aspect. Weirdly people seem to think it's a baby name. :/ Check out some of the other fics in this series, maybe one of them is a ship you like. (If you're here when this comes out 1/22/2022 there's only one other one.) Again, I'm a slow writer. Stuff is coming, but slooooowwwwwlllyyyy.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works!