#vikings ecbert
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theancientwise · 7 months ago
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William the Conqueror conquers England and becomes its king...
Rollo, Gisla and Charles in the afterlife...
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Ecbert and Ragnar...
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Aethelwulf, Kwenthrith and Aelle...
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Eh, my dear Ecbert and Ragnar... what goes around, comes around.
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 years ago
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Coming Back || Björn Ironside x Oc
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gifs by: unknown & @gifshistorical
Summary: Bjorn returns back to Wessex just in time for the birth of his first child with Evangeline. After being forced into marriage, it is the first time they see each other after the wedding.
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Kingdom of Wessex
“Move it!” Björn yells as he moves past servants and guards rushing around the place. Ragnar follows, amused at his son’s mood. They had just set foot back in Wessex after news came that Evangeline was expected to give birth very soon. Of course shocked, Björn wanted to be by his wife’s side when his first child is born.
The married couple had not seen each other in many months as he left right after their consummating ceremony. Although their marriage was only a political matter, Björn still cared about her.
“Ah, my son-in-law! How are you Björn?” King Ebert opens his arms wide. Björn awkwardly looks to his father before hesitating and moving closer to the King who pulls him in for a hug and a pat on the back.
“My dear Evangeline has missed your presence, but rest assured, her pregnancy has been very smooth. I pray to the God above that she delivers the child safely without much pain.” He does the sign of the cross as Björn slowly nods. “And where is she? The soon to be mother of my child?” His deep voice questions the King.
King Ecbert beckons a servant, “Take them to the birthing room,” And with that, Björn quickly follows the servant, Ragnar following suit but not before giving a look to the King.
The two walk into a hallway where they could already hear Evangeline’s cries of pain. Björn stiffened at the sound of her screams, it was his first time becoming a father so he did not know what to expect. Ragnar takes ahold of his son’s upper arm making him stop. “When you go in there, she is obviously in a lot of pain. Take her hand, comfort her. And pray to Freyja.” He says lowly to Björn who just nods before exhaling from his nose.
The servant waited in front of the door. Björn nodded and the door opened revealing his wife pacing slowly around the room. Her hands on her back as she breathed heavily. Her hair was sticking to her shiny face and her white gown slightly covered with blood. Evangeline had not yet noticed his presence in the room.
Another cry left her mouth as she threw her head back, massaging her stomach as servants press a cloth to her sweaty forehead. Ragnar stayed leaned up by the door, his eyes scanning around the room. “Evangeline…” Björn called out making the princess turn her head to his direction.
In a matter of seconds, she stormed up to him, hitting his chest a few times. “Where have you been! I have been waiting for you-“ She stopped mid sentence as she winced and leaned her head against his firm chest. “Because of you, I seem to be fighting against a demon inside my stomach!” She fumed before she turned back around and continued pacing.
Björn watched his wife in shock as she kept yelling “get out, get out, get out” over and over. He looks behind his shoulder to his father for help but Ragnar only chuckles. “Sounds like a typical Viking baby” He shrugs as Björn walks to Evangeline. He takes her shoulders, “I think you should this to the bed, yes?” He says to her with his slight accent.
“I think that is a great idea, my Prince. Let’s go lay down in the bed shall we?” An older handmaiden gently takes Evangeline’s hands and move her to the bed. Now that he was married to the Princess of Wessex, he was technically considered Prince. It sure was still new to Björn.
Evangeline laid down on the bed with her husband trailing behind, his hand on her lower back. Björn takes ahold of her hand, just like what his father told her to do, placing a kiss on her knuckles before silently praying to Freyja.
“Princess, you need to start pushing!” Evangeline screams in pain but nonetheless pushes. “What are you doing?” She says in between her yells of pain. “Praying to the Goddess Freyja, so that you safely deliver our son or daughter” Björn says as he looks her in the eyes.
She doesn’t say anything but continues to push, tears streaming down her face from the pain she was experiencing. “This baby is going to be the death of me!” She screams before she gives one final push, her hand squeezing hard with Björn’s but he did not mind.
For the first time that afternoon, the villa fell silent until the noise of a baby crying broke it . Evangeline fell back on the bed, exhausted with her eyes closed. Björn stares amazed at the newborn, his child, a daughter. The handmaiden wraps the baby in cloth before taking her to the exhausted mother.
“Look, isn’t our daughter beautiful?” Björn softly whispers in Evangeline’s ear as she slowly opens her eyes, her daughter resting on her chest as tears of joy flow down her face. Björn couldn’t stop smiling at the little human being he helped create.
“She’s beautiful,” Evangeline whispers, looking down at the baby. “What should we name her?” The Princess looks at Björn with searching eyes as he takes a moment to think before looking to his father.
“I think we should name her Ingrid. It means beautiful goddess, because I know our daughter already is one,” He smiles down at the baby, her tiny hand wrapping themselves around Björn’s finger. Evangeline’s eyes move to Björn as everyone in the room exchanges looks.
No doubt were they questioning the name of the Princess’ child as it was old norse originated. “Ingrid. Princess Ingrid. I like that name,” Evangeline says softly as Björn smiles at her and kisses her cheek.
“Where is my granddaughter!” King Ecbert rushes in and stops to see the sight infront of him. His eyes immediately soften before coming to his daughter’s side, Evangeline notices his older brother Aethulwulf standing by the door awkwardly. Evangeline carefully gives her father Ingrid as the King admires his granddaughter silently.
The young Princess beckons her older brother who takes a hesitant step forward. He moves past his father and engulfs the younger in a hug. “How are you dear sister?” He rubs her back as Evangeline lets out a breath. “I’m fine. Though rest and sleep is all I can think about right now,” She chuckles as the others around do the same.
King Ecbert than passes Ingrid to her uncle. Evangeline watch as the two fuss over her daughter as she rests her head on Björn’s chest. “Thank you for being here,” She looks up to him with a gentle smile. He says nothing but moves her closer to him and places a kiss on her forehead.
The door opened and revealed Lagertha and Ragnar. The famous Shield-maiden immediately moves to the bed where the couple laid. She engulfed Björn in a tight hug before giving Evangeline one aswell. Lagertha moves to the other side and Aethulwolf passes Ingrid to her.
“Oh she’s beautiful,” Lagertha softly says, looking at Evangeline and Björn. “What is her name?” She questions as she brushes Ingrid’s cheek. “Ingrid.” Evangeline answers with a proud smile. “Ingrid.” Ragnar nods, moving behind Lagertha to look down at the baby in her arms.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” Ragnar acknowledges with a smile and winks at the young Princess.
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myocsfanfictions · 6 months ago
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Under the Devil’s Eye
Vikings FanFiction
MASTERLIST
Selethryth, a young lady with strange eyes and prophetic dreams, is both feared and revered in King Ecbert's court. Though he sees her as a powerful tool for his ambitions, it is Ivar, the brutal and unpredictable son of Ragnar, who is drawn to her. As their fates collide, Selethryth finds herself entangled in a dangerous game where her gifts may lead her into the arms of darkness.
If you like it, please reblog!
[All of my FanFictions Masterlist]
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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levithestripper · 5 months ago
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“I don't know how I can be of help.” “What about the priest?” “Athelstan? ...Athelstan is a spiritual man.” VIKINGS— 02x08 “Boneless”
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rahwle · 2 months ago
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my type is blonde men (they ignore my existence)
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ivarthebadbitch · 1 year ago
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lagertha + hair
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fantasydreamland · 23 days ago
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Unholy Waters
athelstan x fem reader
Summary: Vikings enter your kingdom and there is one in particular that stands out from the rest. As King Ecberts younger sister you always try to stay informed on important matters which are often discussed in the bathing hall. Your curiosity of the man leads to unholy waters.
Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, lil fluff, tension, p in v, semi public sx, mentions of god/sin, spoilers
Word count: 2k
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Your brother, King Ecbert had agreed to meet with the Vikings that had recently rushed your shores. Now you stood idly by next to the king as they entered the hall. You stiffen as they walk in. You had never seen men like them, so bold, so big, so wild. Then one man caught your eye standing next to the man they called their king. You later learned their kings name was Ragnar Lothbrok, the famous Viking. The translator did not look quite like the other men, but you couldn’t place it. He was very intriguing nonetheless. As soon as the conversation started between Ragnar and your brother he began to translate for the kings, you realized he was definitely not like the other men.
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After Ragnar’s return home King Ecbert turns to the Viking woman Lagertha who seemed to be another leader of the Vikings. Your brother also turned to who has become his trusted confidant, Athelstan. You had not spoken much to him over the weeks he was here, mostly in his presence when he is discussing various things with the king. Your eyes would meet many times, he seemed to be just as intrigued with you as you were with him, though you did not understand why. You felt strange when he looked at you, your skin would flush and your heart would race. You had never felt this way before. You had come to learn he used to be a monk before he was taken by the Vikings. It sounded like an awful story but he seemed to enjoy his life with them now, you noticed how close he was with their king, Ragnar. He almost seemed to be one of them.
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All four of you arrive to the bathing room one day and you have to force your eyes away from Athelstan in his towel. His surprisingly muscular body made your breath catch in your throat. You begin removing your towels and you stare at your feet to avoid looking at anyone else’s naked body so you don’t notice Athelstan quietly taking in the sight of yours.
Athelstan is first to get into the water and you follow close behind, sitting on the same side but keeping a good amount of distance between you. Your eyes meet and he does not hide how intently he is watching you. Your cheeks heat as you look away shyly but still feel his heavy gaze on you. It makes you nervous but not uncomfortable. You kind of like him looking at you this way… You don’t understand these new feelings.
Ecbert and Lagertha get in on the other side of the bath until you are all submerged under the refreshing water. The water was a bit colder today but you happily welcomed it against your now burning skin.
You were expecting to discuss some type of politics but Ecbert was solely focused on his conversation with Lagertha. They whispered and giggled to each other as they sat comfortabley close together, Lagertha nearly in his lap. While you and Athelstan sat a far distance apart. You glance over at him and his gaze is already firmly on you, watching you. He drifts towards you and your heart stops waiting to see what he was going to do. You avoid eye contact as he reaches behind you to grab more wine, bare skin lightly brushing against yours. For a moment you forget how to breathe, until he moves away.
You notice he was now sitting a bit closer to you.
“So…” He says to you, Ecbert and Lagertha still whispering and giggling on the other side of the tub.
“So…” You repeat, feeling the tension bubbling.
“Tell me about you? I realize I know nothing about you other than you are the kings younger sister.” And that you were incredibly gorgeous, but he did not say that part out loud.
“There is not much to know…” You chuckle softly.
“I’m not sure I believe that.” He slightly smirks.
“I am unmarried, no children, no betrothal-“
He shakes his head with a smile before cutting you off. “What about the things you like? I mean, what do you do in your spare time?”
“I don’t have much spare time.” You shrug.
“But when you do?” He pushes, curious to know more about you.
“Well, I do love to read…”
“That’s beautiful.” He smiles, happy to finally know something more about you. “What do you like to read?”
“Anything and everything.” You smile back. “I love to learn and expand my mind.”
He looks at you with a warm smile and you take a sip of your wine to hide your blush. No one else had ever bothered to ask about your interests before.
“What about you? You were a monk, now a Viking, now…? I am sure your story is very interesting.”
“It certainly is.” He chuckles. “There is too much to tell-“
His words are cut off by the sound of water sloshing as King Ecbert and Lagertha leave the bath. They quickly throw on their towels and rush to leave.
“Where are you going?” You call to him, nervous about being alone and naked with Athelstan.
“Where does it look like, sister?” He jokes as he and Lagertha giggle out of the room, clearly on their way to his bed.
You sigh and turn back to Athelstan.
“Well, where were we?” You say, trying to converse to ignore your increasing awareness of your naked bodies under the water.
“My story.” He smiles. “But that is a very long tale I am not sure we have time for…”
“Well then just tell me what they are like? The Vikings.”
He smiles and explains how the Vikings lived. Their religion, their lifestyle, their fighting, you listened to every single word with intrigue, especially learning how open the Vikings were about sex. You’ve been taught your entire life you are to marry one man and only lay with him.
“I have always been curious about it… but as a Christian woman I was always taught it is a sin to bed someone before marriage.” You say shyly.
“I was taught the same thing… Until I met Ragnar of course.” Athelstan responds.
“Have you… you know?”
“Yes.” Athelstan clears his throat as he sits up straighter. “Once.”
“What was it… like?” You ask quietly.
“It is um… hard to describe.” He chuckles shyly.
“I want to know what it’s like…” You say in nearly a whisper.
Athelstan’s eyes meet yours as they go wide.
“The king, my brother, will not let me wed until there is a suitor worth marrying… and god knows how long that may be.” You explain. “I know we have only just met recently but… I feel a strange connection to you and feel as if I can trust you…”
“You can.” He reassures you, placing a hand on your cheek which causes your heart to race.
You’re not sure when you had moved closer but now his face was only inches away from yours as he looks into your eyes.
“Would you want to…”
Before you can finish your sentence his lips are on yours. You whimper at the contact but kiss him right back. You had only kissed one other boy when you were younger but it was nothing compared to this. You let him pull you into his lap and your core presses against his already hardened length, making you gasp.
“Tell me at any point if you wish to stop…” He says in a whisper as his eyes remain fixed on your lips.
You shake your head before kissing him again, this time dipping your tongue into his mouth which causes him to pull you even closer against him. Your naked bodies pressed together and you relished in the feeling of skin on skin. As the kiss becomes more heated you begin to grind against him, making you both moan into each other’s mouths.
“Do you want to continue this in your chambers?” He asks, wanting your first time to be as comfortable as possible.
“Yes… but unfortunately the guards will likely see and might stop us.”
He nods and you move to position him against your entrance.
“It’s going to hurt at first…” He whispers.
“I know.” You whisper back, one thing you were taught about sex was how painful the first time would be.
He pushes into you slowly and you scrunch your face from the pressure. Once he reaches the barrier he stops completely, holding you up with his hands on your hips. He looks to you waiting for your permission to continue. Once you calm your heavy breathing you nod to him. You cry out as he thrusts through your maidenhead.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He frantically says as he brushes the hair from your face.
“No no, I’m fine, I’m fine. I just need a minute…” You whisper, focusing on taking deep breaths.
Athelstan waits with great patience for you to be ready. He was secretly glad you needed a moment because he did too. He had only had sex one other time and the way you gripped him so tightly like a vice was better than what he remembered. If he didn’t have this chance to collect his own thoughts he was sure it would have been a very quick ending.
After a moment you begin to very slowly move yourself up before sinking back down onto him, causing a whine from you and a small moan from him. He studies your every expression as you do. You repeat this slow motion, moving up and down on him, both your breaths growing heavy as the pain slowly fades. You lean in and press your lips to his, Athelstan moves a hand to your neck and kisses you back passionately, your tongues dancing together and soft moans filling the air.
As you continue to kiss, you start moving faster, grinding back and forth against him. Waves of water now sloshed around with your movements. A spark of pleasure shoots up your spine and you break the kiss to moan loudly.
“Shh.” Athelstan hushes you with a small smirk. “You said yourself you do not want to get caught.”
You give a shy smirk as you nod. It becomes harder and harder to remain quiet as you move faster on him, desperate to chase that friction. You bite on your lip hard as a strange feeling overcomes you, a coil in your belly tightening more and more. Athelstan even begins to struggle holding back his pants and moans, the sounds only fuelling the fire inside you. The room is filled desperate whimpers and water splashing as you both get closer to the edge.
“Something-“ You pant. “Something is happening…”
Athelstan just nods with glazed over eyes, secretly relieved because he had been beginning to struggle fighting back his own release while you chased yours. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders as you see stars, crying out far louder than you should but you couldn’t contain it any longer. The sight, sound, and feel of you coming undone around him is enough to push him to the edge. He groans into your neck as he comes inside of you.
The sound of the sloshing water begins to die down as it’s replaced with both of your heavy pants. Your heavy lidded eyes meet before the blur of lust faded and you giggle to each other before bringing your lips to his, cupping his cheeks with your wet hands. You revelled in the feeling of him still inside you.
“That was…” You were at a loss for words.
“Yeah.” Athelstan pants with a grin.
“Maybe you should try to sneak to my room tonight.” You say as you kiss his neck gently, causing him to shiver. “I have already sinned, and I would really like to do that again.”
“Perhaps I will...” He says before bringing your lips to his again.
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whitecriminalcastle · 1 year ago
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I'm watching Vikings for the plot...
the plot:
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maldarine · 2 months ago
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gayspacemonk · 3 months ago
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Im currently in the 5th season of Vikings (2013) and Im convinced that this is a cautionary tale about pretty boying too close to the sun
Athelstan, the first ever pretty boy malewife of the show: killed by his man's jealous friend
Ragnar, the worlds most famous pretty boy: lost his malewife, got addicted to drugs, died killed by snakes (metaphorically and literally)
Ecbert, bisexual feminist king (literally): fooled by his deceased crush's boyfriend bc he loved him too much to disrespect his last wish (girl...)
Siggurd, literally the most letal face card, the best hair in the game: talked too much shit
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 years ago
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Vikings Oc
Evangeline, Princess of Wessex
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gifs by @myrcella
Alexandra of Northumbria
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gif by @anakintargaryens
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myocsfanfictions · 5 months ago
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Under the Devil’s Eye
MASTERLIST
Selethryth, a young lady with strange eyes and prophetic dreams, is both feared and revered in King Ecbert's court. Though he sees her as a powerful tool for his ambitions, it is Ivar, the brutal and unpredictable son of Ragnar, who is drawn to her. As their fates collide, Selethryth finds herself entangled in a dangerous game where her gifts may lead her into the arms of darkness.
《 Previous - Next 》
Chapter 2
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Selethryth felt utterly exhausted, as if her body had been forged from lead. Ever since the night she dreamt of the raven, sleep had become her enemy. Every time she closed her eyes, the nightmare returned—always the same. The vision of the bird, flying alone in the darkened sky, tired and abandoned. Then the serpent, coiling around the raven and swallowing it whole, its death slow and inevitable. And after, the earth trembling beneath her, decaying and foul, while a dark figure appeared in the shadows, familiar blue eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. The sea—the sea that devoured men and castles alike. And always, always, she was powerless, a silent witness the doom around her.
Each dream left her heart heavy, suffocated, as if a dark force had wrapped around her chest and was ready to crush her at any moment.
The King had grown restless after hearing about the raven, and since then, he summoned her every morning to ask what she had dreamt the night before. It was the only topic of conversation between them these days.
"Why do you keep pushing her to speak of this curse?" Her mother's voice broke the silence one night, trembling and low, as if she feared being overheard.
"The king has asked," her father replied quietly but tensely. "Who am I to deny him?"
"That man is a sinner. A dangerous, mad man," Lady Oswyth retorted, bitterness heavy in her voice, but also fear.
"Don't speak like that!" Lord Godric's voice was sharp, almost a whisper, but there was an unmistakable fear in it. "If the king hears—"
"If the king hears, it makes no difference," her mother whispered back. "We're already lost." She paused, her tone breaking. "But he doesn't see what I see. He doesn't understand the sign in her eyes... what she is."
"And the king doesn't want us to intervene. There will be no exorcism for her," her father said, trying to end the conversation, though his frustration was clear.
Oswyth sighed, her voice cracking. "You are condemning your daughter's soul for your own ambitions, Godric."
"Her soul has been lost since the day she was born!" Her father's words were harsh, like an old wound reopened. The anger was raw. "We knew it! She nearly killed you when you gave birth to her! And after her, you couldn't give me another child. We've always known, Oswyth!" His voice trembled with bitterness. "I thought we were cursed because of her. But the king... the king sees something else. And we've risen, like my father never could. I won't let anything ruin that."
Selethryth remained silent, hidden behind the ajar wooden door, shrouded in the darkness of her chamber. Her eyes lowered, and her heart ached as the cruel words pierced her. She had always known the truth of her birth—that she was the reason her mother had been unable to bear more children. The moment they had seen her eyes, they had known it was her fault. And now, hearing her father speak of it so openly, the weight of her existence pressed down on her, heavier than ever.
She slid down onto the cold floor, drawing her knees close to her chest, struggling to keep the sobs trapped within her. She could not allow herself to be heard, not even a sigh, as silent tears welled in her eyes. She didn't understand what she had done to deserve this. What had she done wrong? How had she offended the Lord, for Him to bring so much pain and dishonor to her family?
Selethryth had always tried to be a good Christian—going to church, learning everything that a noble lady was supposed to know—but none of it mattered. To them, she would always be a sinner. Always to blame. And there was nothing she could do to change their minds. To everyone, she would forever be a witch.
This pained her heart gravely.
"You're so quiet, child." Judith's voice broke through the silence, making Selethryth look up from her book. The lady was painting with careful hands, recreating a scene from the sacred scriptures. It was something Judith loved to do, though it was considered inappropriate for a lady—an indulgence that, by her position as the King's mistress, she was free to pursue. Women of her standing had the freedom to do things that others could not, like drawing or reading.
"Forgive me for not being good company, my lady," Selethryth apologized, her voice barely above a whisper. But Judith turned to her with softness in her eyes—eyes that no one else ever showed her. She was the only one who ever looked at her like that.
Selethryth still remembered when Judith had first feared her, when she had been labeled a witch—an accusation that had followed her like a shadow. But it didn't take long for Judith to grow fond of her, to see beyond the rumors and the fear. For Selethryth's mother, this was fitting. Judith, after all, was a woman with many flaws, living openly in her sins. To Oswyth, it made sense that she would not have ill thoughts about her daughter.
"Nonsense, Selethryth. You're always good company," Judith said gently, her gaze soft as she observed the young lady, who, after a long pause, found the strength to smile. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked again, her brush never faltering as she continued painting.
Selethryth hesitated. She wanted to confide in Judith; she felt that the woman was the only one who might truly understand her. Judith had been the one to push her to read and study, to learn things she was never supposed to. And whenever someone spoke ill of her, it was Judith who had defended her without hesitation. But Judith was too close to the King for Selethryth to be completely honest with her. She could never speak of what had been said in her family's chamber, nor could she risk the royal family thinking her ungrateful. So, with a quiet breath, she decided to change the subject.
"I was reading about the Vikings," Selethryth said, her gaze dropping to the book in her hands.
"Vikings?" Judith asked with a curious tilt of her head. "What made them so interesting to you?"
"Magnus says he's the son of Ragnar Lothbrok," Selethryth replied, her voice soft.
Magnus, the son of the late Queen Kwenthrith, had been fathered by Ragnar Lothbrok during the war for Mercia. The very fact of his parentage had been the only reason Ecbert had agreed to raise him as his own.
"You've met him, haven't you?" Selethryth asked, her curiosity piqued. She saw Judith's expression shift to one of quiet nostalgia, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"You know I have," Judith replied, her voice tinged with something unreadable, though her smile was warm.
Selethryth, worried she had overstepped, realized the question had likely seemed unnecessary, considering Alfred's father had been one of Ragnar's most trusted companions.
"Was he truly as impressive as the stories say?" Selethryth asked, her voice full of wonder. She had read so much about the Vikings—their fierceness, their legends—and yet it was hard to believe such men existed outside of myth.
Judith nodded slowly, her eyes distant for a moment. "All of it is true," she said, her voice low and reverent. "He was an impressive warrior... with an even more impressive mind."
Then something on the page caught Selethryth's attention. She leaned in closer, her fingers tracing the edge of an illustration—a man, with a raven on his chest. She frowned, the image feeling oddly familiar. She turned the page back, her fingers trembling slightly, and found the same drawing, the same raven.
"Why a raven?" she muttered under her breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the image.
Judith, having noticed Selethryth's intense focus, hummed in curiosity and leaned in to see the drawing.
"You're looking at Ragnar," Judith said softly, almost as if speaking of an old friend. "The raven was his sigil."
Selethryth's breath caught in her throat as her gaze moved from Judith back to the drawing.
A raven...
She kept repeating to herself, It's just a drawing. There was no reason to think of it as anything more than what it was. She had dreamt of a bird dying. Nothing more. But she couldn't shake that strange feeling—like the image made sense. As if she were meant to look at it. But why would that be true?
She had never cared about Ragnar Lothbrok, why did she feel such a strong connection to that figure now?
She had never believed Ecbert's words. She had never believed that she had been blessed with prophetic dreams. They were just dreams, read by others, their meaning always coming later. Like with the first dream she had told him.
She had dreamt of a woman with black hair and a crown on her head, but suddenly the crown turned to ashes and the ground beneath her crawled away, as if it wanted to escape from her. But then, the same earth formed a bridge that led to King Ecbert, wearing an even bigger crown than the one he already wore. Both the people around him and those on the other side of the bridge bowed to him.
It held no meaning to her. There was no way she could have ever truly believed that the King would interpret this dream as a sign of his kingdom growing. But he did. And it happened again, and again. Every dream she shared seemed to follow a chance for Ecbert to expand his lands. And now, he ruled over the largest kingdom in England.
She had never wanted to believe that she had prophetic dreams. And she didn't want to believe it now. If she did, then the Devil really was her lover, and she didn't have a soul.
That thought terrified her. Was her destiny to be a dark creature? An empty one, causing pain and despair? Did she really have no soul? What would become of her when death came? Was she condemned to Hell?
But I have done nothing, she kept repeating to herself. She always did what her family expected of her, what the Lord had taught them to learn. She had done nothing to be hated like this.
And yet, that raven... that raven had scared her. The feeling it left behind terrified her even more.
"Why are you looking so pensive?" Eadgifu's voice made her look up from her needlework. Her sister was having her new dress fixed by the hands of Hilda. It was a gown of pale pink that matched perfectly with her sister's skin. On Eadgifu's face there was an excited smile as she observed herself in the mirror. "Are you worried about the feast of tomorrow night?"
Selethryth found herself smiling bitterly. She really wished that her mind could fix on those things, pretty dresses and feasts to meet suitors, but her mind kept coming back to the raven. The sadness that she felt in her dream, and the fear she had felt during the entire day.
"There's no reason to," Selethryth answered, meeting her sister's gaze through the glass, "You, however, must be excited."
Eadgifu's smile grew larger, "Mother said I'm ready to wed." She said with a dreamy expression. Marriage had always been her sister's greatest dream as they grew up.
"I'm sure you'll find an honorable man," Selethryth's words were enough to make Hilda look at her with unspoken fear. But Eadgifu didn't notice, as she giggled again.
"And handsome as well, I hope," she said before turning to Selethryth. "You could meet someone as well," Eadgifu insisted, but Selethryth looked down at her needlework again, with a little shake of her head.
"Only the Lord knows what plans He has for me," she said, folding the needle between her fingers. "For now, I must wait until He speaks through Father's mouth."
Eadgifu regarded her with a sad look, "Father knows that you'll have to wed, it is a woman's duty." Selethryth would have liked to ask her if it was the Witch of Wessex's duty as well. But she decided against it. Smiling at her sister to keep on with her needlework.
She was in the right age to marry, to be looking for a husband at least. But it was never the time. Lord Godric loved his high position at King Ecbert's court, but his presence was required because Selethryth was there. If she was to marry and leave for her husband's lands, what would become of Lord Godric? He would have to return to his own dark castle, and the king's attentions would be long forgotten. That, of course, if she would ever find a man daring enough to not be scared of superstitions. But Selethryth wasn't sure of it.
That night, her sleep had a form again, vivid as if she were awake.
Selethryth found herself standing at the edge of a vast and frozen lake, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting a stormy sky above. The wind howled through the barren trees at the lake's edge, their branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal hands, clawing at the air. The whole landscape felt dead, as if the world itself were holding its breath. The cold bit deep into her skin, and she shivered, but there was no warmth, no shelter to be found.
In the distance, two figures appeared, walking toward her across the frozen expanse. One was tall, shrouded in shadow, his form hidden beneath a dark cloak, but a raven flew beside him—its wings cutting through the air with a steady, rhythmic beat. The raven's presence felt both ominous and powerful, like a harbinger of change. The figure walked with a slow, deliberate pace, as if burdened by the weight of years, yet still possessing a quiet strength. He was the older figure, the one who had lived through much, but was now nearing the end of his journey.
The second figure was on the ground, but he radiated intensity. He slithered on the floor fast and urgent, almost as though he were driven by an unseen force. He seemed to move with a fury that contrasted sharply with the calmness of the first figure. His eyes, burning like blue fire, glinted with a sharpness that cut through the dim light. There was something in his gaze that was both haunting and intense, as though he had been touched by something beyond this world. His path was not one of peace, but of revenge.
As the figures drew closer, the sky above began to darken. The raven circling the older figure let out a sharp cry, and in an instant, a bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens, splitting the sky in two. The older figure stumbled, his cloak billowing around him, and fell to the ground. A cloud of shadow seemed to rise from the earth, swirling around him, until he was lost within it. The raven disappeared into the night, and the storm that had raged above seemed to swallow him whole.
But then, the second figure—the one with the burning blue eyes—stood tall, his face drawn in a fierce expression of grief and anger. He lifted his arms to the sky, and a great thunderclap followed, shaking the earth beneath her feet. He called out, his voice full of pain and rage, but also a powerful resolve. The sky above him seemed to tremble, as though the very heavens themselves were answering his cry. The storm intensified, lightning flashing with increasing frequency, each strike illuminating his face, now set in a mask of vengeance.
The power of the storm—the grief in his eyes—struck something deep within her, even if she could not quite understand the reason. She wanted to reach out, but the storm raged too fiercely, and the dream began to fade, pulling her back into the dark void. Her eyes shot open, and she realized she had been crying.
******
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lithugraph · 10 months ago
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Athelstan/King Ecbert is just as compelling as Athelstan/Ragnar. Everyone really does want a piece of this little sad monk, huh?
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imaginesmai · 2 years ago
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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson
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Enemies to lovers, forced-marriage and based on the Disney movie The Swan princess. Here is what is probably the work I’m proudest of. Things you need to know before reading:
- As a medieval fic, there will be typical misoginist behaviours, racisims at some points and stereotypes. 
- In this fic, Ubbe is from Mercia, not a viking, but a prince. His whole family is ruling that country, while yours rules over Wessex.
- Ivan doesn’t exist. I had to erase a brother for the plot I’M SORRY.
- It hasn’t been proof-read. So, if you find any mistake, please let me know!
Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.
As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.
Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.
But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.
You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.
Preface:  Ubbe and you meet for the first time, foreshadowing what your relationship is going to be like.
1st part:  Just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.
2nd part:  your sixteenth-first encounter goes as good as planned.
3rd part:  Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.
4rd part:  The soldiers’ attitude forces your father to make a decision, and you finally see an end to your engagement. Only that, when presented with the chance, you’re not so sure.
5th part:  No longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.
6th part:  The morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.
7th part:  Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.
8th part:  tragedy strikes when you least expect it.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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ivarthebadbitch · 2 years ago
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ecbert + the roman bath
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bilbotargaryen · 26 days ago
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♪ Two bros, chilling in the hot tub, five feet apart cause they're not gay ♪
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