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mrsalwayswrite · 3 months

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 19

An update in less than a month? What is this?

This is the long anticipated update and I'm so excited to share it with you. Please let me know what you guys think!

Words: 5500

Warnings: All the feels! brief violence, language, just grab some tissues.

Series Masterlist

Ivar loathed all hospitals with an unholy passion. Far too much of his childhood was spent surrounded by sterile white walls and people in scrubs giving him pitying looks that boiled his blood. He hated the continuous beeping sounds, that unnatural sterile scent, even the loud-ass flooring that made each step sound like a heavy weight being dropped. He despised everything about hospitals.

But none of that crossed his mind as he stormed into the main lobby of one with the force of an unrelenting tornado.

He slammed his hand down on the counter, feeling his bones rattle and threaten to break but he ignored the pain. He already had one hand in a cast, why not the other?

“Where is Kari Larsen?” He demanded of the two nurses behind the counter.

Neither nurse berated him of how he cut in line, bypassing the four other people, to demand their attention. A fucking miracle. As he stood there, waves of anger and desperation crashing over him, he wondered if they could see it and it kept their mouths shut. Was it so obvious how his edges were fraying? How what sanity he possessed was beginning to crumble until he knew - he could see - that Kari was alive.

One of them glanced over his shoulder, at his father and brother flanking him, and waved him closer. “Give me a moment and I'll check.”

The desire to scream at her to ‘hurry the fuck up’, ‘didn't she know who he was’, and how he wanted to ‘burn this entire building to the ground’ stung the back of his throat. But none of that passed his lips. For immobilizing terror gripped at his heart with claws sunk in deep, making that blackened organ threaten to stutter to a stop. How his lungs ached as if petrifying within his chest causing each breath to be a struggle to take in.

He had promised her.

He fucking PROMISED!

Uncaring of his hardened reputation, of never showing pain, he dropped his head in his hands, the cast rubbing against his cheek. He tried to take a deep breath, but the panic and self-loathing continued to crush his chest like a Medieval torture device. He just needed to know…he needed to see her.

Please…

The nurse's ‘customer' voice broke through his internal panic. “Miss Larsen is still in the emergency room but has been moved to a separate room for examination.”

Ivar moved before the nurse fully finished her sentence. Ignoring all those around him, he stormed through that hospital with only one destination in mind. At this point, he almost wished someone would try to stop him so he could hit someone, just do something instead of feeling like he was falling apart. Anger, he knew. Anger, he could work with. But not this terror, not this panic that was draining his sanity and attempting to suffocate him.

Perhaps, it was the scowl on his face that made people jump out of his way, the aura of danger that radiated off of him, or how he was flanked by his father and brother. With only a few concerned stares from nurses or those that worked there, he guessed they recognized him and his family. He had visited this godforsaken place enough times. Besides, he was a Lothbrok.

And Lothbroks owned this city.

Hvitserk raced ahead to open the doors leading into the emergency area, separate from the main hospital. They passed through without incident, into the chaos and mayhem. Sounds of a baby screaming, raised voices, the tang of blood and antiseptic cleaner, it all assaulted his senses but it barely phased him. There was only one thing he cared about right now.

Marching up to the large desk, he stopped, glaring at the first nurse he came across. Her gray hair was tied back in a bun, with a ‘don't give a fuck anymore’ look as she typed away on the computer.

Too bad she had met her match today.

“Kari Larsen. Where is she?” He gritted through his teeth.

The older nurse sighed, looking up at him. “Young man, you need to wait–”

“WHERE IS SHE??!”

Silence echoed in the room. The sudden lack of sound felt like a black hole that suddenly exploded to destroy them all. All eyes turned to the trio at the front desk.

His father put a hand on Ivar's shoulder as he stepped up beside him. Most likely intervening before Ivar jumped over the counter and repeatedly stabbed the ugly bitch with that damn pen she kept clicking.

“We received a call from this hospital that Kari Larsen was here. We've come to check on her and I am personally paying for any treatment she receives while here.”

“Fine. Your name, sir?”

“Ragnar Lothbrok.” He smirked lazily. “My information is on file. Send the bill to Mr Weber, the CFO. He knows how to contact me with any further questions.”

The five other nurses behind the desk all stared, one or two having paled at the name of Lothbrok spoken. The older nurse before them began to stutter out a response, her eyes having widened and mouth dropped open, like an wrinkly goldfish.

“Now, you will answer my son's question.” His father's voice hardened in displeasure. “In which room is Kari Larsen?”

“I…um…” One of the nurses stumbled out, clasping a blue patient folder to her chest like it was some shield to protect her from the Lothbrok's wrath. “I brought her for a CT scan…just…fifteen minutes ago, maybe.”

“Excellent, now–” Ragnar started to say but a rasped cry yanked the youngest Lothbrok's attention away.

“Ivar!”

He spun on his heel, facing the hallway just behind him and slightly to his right. All his fear, panic, anger, self-loathing- it all bubbled up to spectacularly erupt as he heard that voice call his name. Her voice! A voice even after three weeks without hearing its sound, he immediately knew. The voice his soul cried out for.

And there she was.

Beautiful…

Perfect…

….with dried blood on the side of her head and splattered on her sweater.

“Kari!” As quickly as his crippled legs could go, he bolted towards her.

At his responding cry, she broke away from the nurse walking next to her. The damn nurse tried to grab her, but Kari shook her hand off and began running.

Running to him!

With tears running down her cheeks.

She slammed into him, almost knocking them over with her momentum. Ivar stumbled back a couple steps, barely catching his footing, but he did not care. She was in his arms. Where she should be. Where she was meant to be. Finally.

As soon as she was enclosed in his arms, face pressed against his chest and hands fisting the front of his shirt, she began sobbing earnestly. He tightened his arms around her, drawing her as physically possible against himself as her whole body shook with each ragged sob.

Hearing her, he wished he could carve his chest open and allow her to crawl in. Fuck, he would do anything to take her pain, to have her even closer, to prove he was never letting her go again.

That he would always protect her.

“I've got you, Kari. I'm here.” The words flowed from him like an anguished prayer. “I'm here, sweet Kari. I'm not going anywhere.”

The scent of blood clung to her but he ignored it for the moment. She was here in his arms. Alive and well.

That was all that mattered.

He could have stood there for all eternity, the world continuing to spin and empires rising and falling without an ounce of care from him. None of it mattered. Three weeks he had been in turmoil and despair, waiting, wondering, hoping for a sign from her. Anything to prove she still cared about him, still wanted him. That he had not completely fucked up the best thing in his life with a stupid mistake. He planned on planting roots right here on the dirty hospital floor for as long as Kari needed him. The fucking nurses and other patients could move around his crippled ass.

His father had other plans though.

A tap on his shoulder had Ivar looking up into his father's face, a subtle look of relief there. “There's a room for her. Let's move her there.”

He gave a brief nod. With the movement, he became aware of the moisture on his face. When had he started crying? He had been so absorbed in finally - finally! - seeing his kitten, in holding her and providing any kind of comfort she needed, he had not realized his own roiling emotions had exploded out in tears of relief and gratitude, that he was practically bleeding out his stress and harbored despair. And for one of the first times in his life, he did not care if others saw his tears.

Somehow he coaxed Kari along as he followed his father. A strange dance as they moved since she seemed to have no inclination of letting him go. Not that he objected in any way. It was in moments like this he cursed his legs, for if he was whole-bodied he could have picked Kari up and carried her. Instead, with an arm tight around her shoulders and her pressed against his side, refusing to release her vice-like grip on his shirt, they slowly moved.

The ‘room’ they were directed to was just a curtained off section with a single bed, single chair and some monitors pressed against the wall behind the bed. Similar to the many other sectioned off ‘rooms’ of patients waiting to be moved on or sent home.

Carefully, Ivar maneuvered Kari and himself to sit on the hospital bed. She curled against him, her ear against his heart and one hand toying with his Mjölnir necklace. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him. His other hand's fingers were intertwined with hers in his lap.

Like sentinels, his father sat in the chair, sharp gaze shifting from the closed curtain to his youngest son, while his brother took up position next to their father, arms crossed over his chest. The two began whispering but Ivar only briefly noted their presence.

His attention was drawn to Kari as she whispered something.

“What was that, kattungen?”

“You came.” She breathed, her voice raspy and shaky as if holding back more tears. “I gave them your number. I–I wasn't sure if you'd come. I just...I was scared and wanted you.”

How was it possible with such a simple statement, it completely disarmed him. His heart lurched at hearing the undercurrent of fear in her voice, sounding like a child admitting they were scared of the dark. What was worse, what broke his heart, was her fear that he would not come. That he would abandon her.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head in a slow syrup-like kiss, hoping his actions and words would penetrate through her worry. “I'll always come for you.”

“Please don't leave.”

He tipped his head up for a moment, a useless act to try and stop the fresh wave of tears from flowing freely down his cheeks. “I promise.” His voice broke as he answered. “I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” She sobbed out, clinging to him even tighter if possible.

“Shhh…it's okay. Let's focus on getting you out of here, okay?”

She nodded, a faint thing, but he felt it for how tightly she was pressed against him.

A couple minutes later, a doctor stepped behind the curtain, joining the crowded space. He paused a moment, seeing to register the group along with his patient. He cleared his throat loudly before glancing down at the folder in hand.

“Good day, I'm Doctor Schultz, the attending doctor here today. Miss Larsen?” The doctor paused, eyes focused on his patient.

When she did not respond, Ivar squeezed her hand. “It's okay, søte Kari, I'm here.”

“Yes, doctor?” She quietly, hesitantly, said.

“How are you feeling?”

With that fucking stupid question, Ivar wanted to punch the absolute, incompetent asshole of a doctor but settled for glaring at him over Kari's head.

“I've been better.” She replied.

The doctor smiled. “I'm sure. The good news is your scans came back clean. You do not appear to have any cranial or brain damage more than a concussion.” He hesitated, as if rolling around a question in his mind before carefully allowing it out. “Is there anywhere else that hurts? My understanding is the paramedics said you were initially screaming when they arrived on scene.”

“Doctor, can you explain what occurred? We were not told about the incident beyond the fact that she was being attended to at this hospital.” Ragnar broke in, his voice broking no argument that his question would be answered first.

“Of course. Miss Larsen and a companion were involved in a car accident. It appears another driver was not paying attention and drove through a red light, impacting their vehicle.”

A car accident.

A goddamn car accident.

Inhaling sharply, Ivar felt the air stick to his lungs like glue. Mentally he thanked the gods, Fate and anyone listening for keeping Kari safe. The outcome could have been very different.

“Is Erik okay?” The quiet query came from beside Ivar.

“I'm not supposed to speak of other patients,” the doctor said but his face softened as he looked at Kari, “but I just saw him and he sustained more injuries than you. He likely will be walking out of here later today.”

“Erik?” Ivar asked his kitten.

“My neighbor. He was driving us to the grocery store.”

Erik. Fucking Erik. Ivar did not like the overly friendly neighbor, the twat was trying to encroach on HIS territory. Now hearing this, he hated the man even more. The accident may not have been entirely his fault, but Kari was injured and traumatized while in his presence. That was unforgivable.

“Miss Larsen, is there anywhere that hurts? You were fairly nonverbal when you arrived.”

“My…my shoulder…and my neck.”

“May I take a look?”

Ivar loathed to separate from her, but he removed his arm from behind her so the doctor would examine her. Damn, if he was going to move though. Plus with the way Kari did not release his hand, he doubted she wanted him further away.

The doctor opened his mouth, but at the look that promised death on Ivar's face, he wisely did not ask Ivar to move.

“Hmm.” The doctor hummed as he looked at Kari's neck and ran a hand along the slender column. Gently, he tugged the neckline of her sweater to see better after touching it and asking if his touch caused pain.

Ivar gritted his teeth, as he glared with disdain at the invasive doctor. He was ready to intervene any moment the doctor went too far in his opinion but a purposeful squeeze from Kari's hand brought him back down. To distract them both, he brought their entwined fingers to his mouth. Teasingly, he kissed each of her knuckles as he held eye contact and gave a cheeky wink. His heart soared as a faint blush warmed her cheeks and a small, shy smile turned the corners of her lips up.

“Well, Miss Larsen,” the doctor stepped back and scribbled on his chart, “I do not see anything too concerning. I suspect the pain is from whiplash and the seat belt tightening. I can already see some bruising beginning on your shoulder, which may worsen. Unless the pain dramatically increases, you will be fine. You will be sore for a few days. My suggestion is to take some over the counter pain meds and rest for the next several days. If the pain worsens, either in your body or your head, come back to the ER. Any increasing headaches, double vision, spots in your vision, fainting, anything along those lines, please return and we will check on your concussion again. Before I release you, do you have anywhere to stay that someone can watch over you?”

“She's staying with me.”

Both the doctor's and Kari's gazes swung back to him but he only stared resolute at the man that needed to hurry the fuck up.

“Alright…Miss, are you agreeable to that?”

She nodded silently.

“Good. One final question, the paramedics were quite concerned about your hysterics. They made note that you only seemed to calm once they helped you out of the vehicle and even then you were silent and unresponsive for a period of time. Do you remember any of this?”

“Yes.” She croaked out, a violent shiver shaking her fragile form.

“Can you explain what happened?”

“Is this fucking necessary?” Ivar seethed, curling his arm protectively around her and tugging her back into his side.

“I would like to follow through with–”

Ragnar stood up, blue eyes hard as ice as he stared down the doctor. “Thank you for your time and follow through. If you can finalize the release paperwork, we will be on our way and allow you to move on with your many other patients.”

Bewildered gaze swinging to every person in the room, as if silently questioning Ragnar's subtle rebuke, the doctor sharply exhaled and stepped back to the closed curtain. “I will send a nurse in to provide the paperwork.”

With that the intrusive doctor swung open the curtain and strutted away.

Once out of sight, Ivar mumbled, “thought he'd never fucking shut up.”

“Be nice.” Kari murmured without any heat in it, more as if it was a reflex.

Ragnar stepped around the bed and began rustling through the small rolling cart beside the bed. He came back around with an antiseptic wipe. Ivar watched as his father ripped it open and then delicately wiped away the lingering blood on her temple and ear, with far more physical tenderness than he had ever shown his sons. Kari hissed at the initial contact but did not pull away, closing her eyes and slowly taking deep breaths.

Once cleaned to his satisfaction, Ragnar tossed the wipe into the nearby bin. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as if steeling himself for something. Ivar glanced over at his brother, who just shrugged, his own gaze focused on their father.

Ragnar crouched down, bringing himself eye level with Kari instead of standing over her like he had done. “Kari, do you want to leave?” He asked softly.

What kind of dumbass question was that? Ivar opened his mouth to intervene but a cutting look from Ragnar had him almost biting through his tongue to keep quiet.

“Yes.” She rasped back.

“Mmm…” Ragnar nodded. “I need you to look at me, yeah? Good girl. Will you be comfortable riding in a car after this?”

Kari tensed and Ivar wanted to bash his own head against the nearest wall. Of fucking course! Why had he not thought of that yet?

“I–I don't know…I'm sorry.”

“No, Kari. Don't be sorry.” Ivar pressed his forehead to her uninjured temple. “We'll figure something out. It's not your fault.”

Ragnar spoke again, all soft edges and thoughtfulness. “Driving Ivar's car back would be the easiest and fastest. If you are uncomfortable with that, we can find an alternative mode of transportation or we can ask a nurse to mildly sedate you.”

With a tremor in her voice, she stated, “I can try. I think I can do it. Just…could you maybe drive slow?”

Ivar smiled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, a silent encouragement, astounded by her quiet bravery.

“I'm certain we can manage that.” Ragnar grunted, amusement in the quirk of his lips. “One last question.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I need to know, if while we are driving, will you start screaming?”

This time she answered shakily. “No.”

“Do you recall why you were screaming at the accident?”

“Father.” Ivar growled, disliking this turn of questioning.

“I need to know for our safety.” He returned his sharp gaze back to Kari, but did soften his voice.“Do you remember?”

“Memories.”

“Memories?” Ragnar repeated.

She hummed.

“Were you in a car accident recently?”

“No…”

“That's enough.” Ivar snarled, tugging her closer into his side, as her quivering began anew. Whether it was those memories or fear that caused her bodily reaction, he refused to let his father bully her into an answer. He had promised to protect her…even if it was from his father's interrogation.

Icy blue eyes shifted from his youngest to the trembling, young woman in his arms before nodding and rising back to his feet. “I'll be back.” He swept out of the small room, the curtain fluttering closed behind him.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, just before pressing a hand to her mouth and releasing a shaky sob.

Ivar held her close, sheltering her from her own turbulent emotions, as she tucked her face against him. Careful not to disturb her more, he wiped away the residue of tears from his cheeks with his right hand, mindful of his cast.

At the feeling of being watched, he met his brother's eyes from across the small closet of a curtained room. His favorite brother had always been an open book, easy to read his emotions. Even now, the relief and concern for Kari was evident in his eyes. Without a word, he nodded slowly and deliberately toward the woman in his arms. Ivar nodded in reply. A silent conversation but Ivar knew what it meant.

Whatever you need. I'll be there.

Several minutes later, when Kari's quiet sobs transitioned to sniffles, a nurse arrived with a clipboard and release papers. She nervously asked the two men in the room to step outside so she could ask Kari some questions privately. Ivar's hackles immediately rose, a scathing retort on his tongue ready to unleash on the nurse but a squeeze of his hand made the words fade away.

“I'm okay.” Those blue-green eyes held his, even though red rimmed and watery, he still thought they were one of his most favorite sights. “It'll only be a minute.”

“I'll be just on the other side of the curtain.” He promised, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Call out if you need me, kattungen.”

The subtle blush that arose on her cheeks drew a wicked smile to his lips. Before he could swoop in and kiss her, making them both forget the outside world, Kari lightly pushed on his chest.

“Go.”

“As my priestess commands.”

Her quiet laughter followed him out of the room, lightening his darkened heart like an eternal candle. Hvitserk closed the curtain behind them, taking up a position mirroring his own, standing guard in front of the room.

Other patients and nurses moved about the long hallway, some staring at the two brothers, but they were mostly ignored, the chaos and mayhem of the emergency room taking precedence.

Ivar closed his eyes, rubbing a hand along his forehead to try and encourage the brewing headache to fuck off.

“How are you holding up?”

He did not even open his eyes as he heard his brother's question. The exhaustion he had been fighting, dulled by the adrenaline from the phone call and finding Kari, now hit him like a semi truck. At this rate, it was debatable if he would actually be able to fall asleep or his body would crash into a coma, forcing him to rest. He just needed to get Kari to his house. If he could get the two of them there, then they could both rest and recover….and he could beg for her to never leave him again.

He released a long sigh. “I need a cigarette.”

“Want to step out? I'll stay with Kari.”

For a second, he considered it but ultimately shook his head. “I'm not leaving her.”

“What's your plan now? Sounds like you offered for her to stay with us.”

“Yeah. That a fucking problem?”

Hvitserk nudged him with his elbow. “You know it's not. Just…make sure that is what SHE wants.”

“I know.” Ivar ran his hand over his head. “I need her close by. After this…I need to know she's okay.”

“Well, with the way she wouldn't let you go, I think the feeling is mutual.”

Ivar chuckled quietly, warmth flooding his entire body at the reminder. He thought that perhaps she had forgiven him and they could move forward after this. Whatever that looked like, he would take. As long as she was by his side, he did not care what title it held. He just needed her. She was his morning sunrise, the stars in his night sky. Without her, his world was dark and filled with pain and anger.

A new set of footsteps coming down the hallway had the brothers looking up. At the face that came into view, Ivar's fatigue drained away again. Fury pulsated like a second heartbeat in his chest, shooting its tendrils throughout his body like a living organism.

Without a second thought, his feet moved.

The nurse walking with the man seemed to take note of Ivar first and her face paled. She halted, eyes darting around as if searching for help, for someone to intervene. It was only then her patient took notice.

But it was too late. It was time to pass the man's sentence and in this case, Ivar was judge, jury and executioner.

He stormed up to the man, with rage a phantom above him and vengeance nipping at his heels. “You stay the fuck away from Kari. This is your fucking fault she's here!”

“No, the other driver–” Erik tried to defend himself but Ivar was beyond caring about excuses.

Ivar shoved him. Hard.

Erik stumbled back and fell on his ass, unable to fully stop his fall with his right arm in the sling. A pained hiss slipped from his lips as his body jolted at hitting the floor.

“Sir, you can't–” the nurse tried to step in but Ivar pointedly ignored her, his full attention at the man sprawled at his feet.

“I don't give a fuck! You stay the fuck away from her!”

He took a step back, his eyes, cold as stone, stared the man down as if daring him to say anything. He could see the scattering of cuts on Erik's face and body, most likely from the airbag, the arm sling, and the wrap around his knee. None of it phased the Lothbrok. He did not give a flying fuck about him or his injuries. Under Erik's watch, Kari had gotten hurt. Something that would NEVER happen again.

Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Ivar turned to head back to his brother when he heard the resentful mutter behind his back.

“Psycho asshole.”

He could feel the insult sink in and flow through every part of his body. His concern had been for Kari, with keeping her safe. But now, with that one utterance…the idiot had made this personal.

Before Erik blinked, Ivar had whipped around and grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt. He hauled him up roughly to stare into his face. The youngest Lothbrok reveled in the shock and fear that coated the blond's face. People always forgot that he spent a good portion of his life crawling around when his legs were unusable due to surgeries or pain, which built up his upper body strength. Even now, he still enjoyed working out his upper body, being as strong as possible, proving he was more than his useless legs.

“You want to say that to my face, you little fucker?” He sneered. “Huh?”

“IVAR!”

At the shout of his name, he looked over his shoulder. Hvitserk stood beside Kari, the latter with a hand over her mouth and beseeching eyes wide. A few paces in front of them stood his father, the one who called his name, poised ready to intervene and yank his son away.

Without remorse, Ivar roughly let go of Erik. “Stay away from her, or I won't be so nice next time.” With the threat looming above them, he turned and headed back to his family…

…Back to his kitten and hopefully away from this fucking awful place.

“Kari, you don't have to go with him!”

Ivar froze. Again.

“I–I can drive you home. I'll be discharged soon if you'll just…wait.”

The entire hall waited with baited breath. Only the sounds of the machines beeping could be heard.

Yet his whole world had narrowed down to Kari. His eyes zeroed in on her, waiting, watching, for a sign, a subtle hint, instruction on what to do next. Did he go to her? Or was she terrified of him once again? Should he turn around and rip that little fucker's spine out of his body? As these questions whirled about like a chaotic storm, his feet remained firmly planted.

Until her.

Like a sunbeam breaking through the darkest storm, that was his Kari.

His light. His life.

With his name on her lips but no sound uttered, she held out her hand for him. Those stunning eyes focused on him, calling, summoning, drawing him in.

And like a moth to the flame, he followed. But instead of death being at the source of light for him, there was the brightest joy and affection, belonging and loyalty.

He reached out, taking her hand as he got closer and drew her back to his side. He planted a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Let's go home, kattungen.”

Neither Ivar nor Kari looked back at Erik.

They followed Hvitserk and Ragnar out to Ivar's car. Ragnar drove with his son in the passenger seat, and Ivar and Kari in the back. Kari was still tucked in his side, head on his shoulder and holding hands.

As the vehicle pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, her body began to subtly shake. Ivar tugged her onto his lap and began softly speaking, trying to soothe her in his native tongue. Like a child, she tucked her face into his neck as if to hide from the world. Her hand gripped his with a death grip, but he paid no mind, encouraging and comforting however he could.

About halfway through the drive, Kari finally spoke, her trembling having subsided. “Why do you have a cast?”

He glanced down at the damn thing laying across her thighs. “Broke my hand.”

“How?”

“Boxing.”

“Hmmm…did you win?”

He snorted, glancing at her, meeting her face with a small smile. “I always win.”

“Uh huh. Sure you do.” She rasped out, her voice sounding a little stronger but still rough.

“Are you teasing me right now?”

She mock-gasped. “No one would dare tease you.”

He squeezed the top of her knee, making her squirm and squeak. “And you remember that.”

The conversation died out; silence reigned for a while. Ivar rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand as he rested his head on top of hers with eyes closed. Exhaustion crept back in once again, tugging his eyelids shut and numbing his mind. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed, with Kari joining him, and lock his bedroom door so no one could bother them for at least three days. Maybe a week.

“Oh no!” Kari gasped, abruptly sitting upright.

Her sudden startle, sent a shockwave through him. He bolted upright, mind racing. “What?”

“All my groceries. They were in the back of Erik's car. I don't– I don't have money to buy more.”

He chuckled, tugging her back to lean against him. He could not believe she would panic over such a small thing. “Don't worry about it. I've got it.”

“But, that's not–”

“Kari,” he interrupted her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. “I'll take care of it. Understand?”

“Yes.”

She answered correctly but he could see - could sense - her hesitation, that wavering confidence. Something he needed to alleviate.

He released her chin to tenderly caress her cheek before guiding her forehead to press against his. “I'll take care of you.” He repeated, hoping his words would sink into her mind and plant there, for he meant every one. “Whatever you need. Groceries. New clothes. A car. I'll get it, you just tell me. Okay?”

“You don't have to. It's not–”

“I want to.” He interrupted. “I want to take care of you. Don't you understand. I…I failed you but that won't happen again. Please, kitten. Please, just let me do this.”

Time paused as he waited for her reply, for her agreement, for a sign. Anything! Forehead still pressed to his, she slowly breathed. Panic might have crept in to discourage him if he had not been able to feel her hand playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. She was still so relaxed, so trusting, in his lap. He knew all he had to do was wait.

And so he waited for her.

Like he promised he would.

Finally, she quietly sighed out her response before slipping back against his chest and cuddling close. “Thank you, Ivar.”

A wave of gratitude and affection filled his soul. A dopey grin on his face, he tugged her closer and laid his head back on hers.

“Anything for you, Kari.”

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

#to call forth love #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #vikings au #vikings ivar #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ragnar #vikings ragnar #hvitserk vikings #hvitserk lothbrok #mz writes

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Rebuild Your Ruins, Part 1

Summary: Ragnar gives you a new life

Pairings: Ragnar Lothbrok X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: mentions of blood, a slight kidnapping, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.6K

Series Masterlist

You watch horrified at the tree line as these men and women clean their wounds from a battle with your family’s army. It was almost a beautiful dance to watch them. There was no one left, besides yourself, and you didn't know what to do. A man stands up quickly, squinting his eyes in your direction before he gives you a maniacal smile. His boney finger pointing in your direction as he sprints towards you.

His war paint bloodied and smeared giving him a hellish appearance, and you turn fleeing. Stupidly looking behind you to see his long strides gaining on you. For every step he takes you were taking seven. You trip over a log, and struggle to right yourself up. He was almost on you. His skeletal hand reaches towards you, and you scream.

The man’s companion’s ears perk up on the beach, as he searches for his best friend. “Where did Floki run off to?” He slaps at someone’s arm.

“He saw something in the woods, and did his strange laugh before running in that direction.”

Ragnar stares out over their winning battle. Grabbing up his sword, he goes into the direction that Floki had run off to. It was never a good thing when Floki got his wild eyes about him. Almost gliding through the woods, at the same time that you were screaming for your life.

The man wickedly laughs as you get slowed down from a branch clinging to your cloak, “Stop you beastly!” His hand reaches out circling around your wrist, and you try to get out of his embrace.

“Don’t eat me,” that laugh, again. A high pitched snicker, and it makes you sick to your stomach.

“I don’t eat children without seasoning them first,” you scream again, trying to jerk yourself out of his reach. “Where are you going to go, beastly?”

“Floki,” sunlight always seemed to shine on the newcomer as he walks closer to you. His hair long and braided but the splatters of blood was greater than that of Floki’s. “What do you have here?”

“This little beastly was spying on us,” you shake your head rapidly. Your breathing picks up, and you try to jerk away. “Would you stop it? Ragnar, can we keep her?” you start to cry, and flinch away from him.

“Don’t show your fear, little one. If you are to die, you welcome it, and die with honor,” he tilts his head looking at you, and pushing off your hood, smiling at the small tiara that sits on your head, “What have we here? You’re royal?”

“N-n-no.”

“Lies. Why are you scared?”

“Vikings eat children,” Floki looks over at Ragnar with his sadistic laugh, pointing over at you. “I don’t want to be seasoned.”

Ragnar lifts up your arm, patting at your hip, he pulls out a bejeweled knife, “Didn’t think of using this on Floki, huh?” You shake your head no, taking a step away from him, but Floki pulls you back.

“The King is talking to you. Have respect,” Ragnar gives you a kind smile, despite his soiled skin. “Can we keep her?”

“How old are you, child?” Ragnar’s piercing eyes bore into your soul, and you try to stop your tears. “A child of about ten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmm, doesn’t Barnes have a son of that age?”

Floki laughs again, nodding his head, “Twelve.”

“Bring her with us. I should like to have a daughter again. Follow me. You’ll learn the ways of the Aesir. Train you to be a warrior instead of just a damsel in distress,” Floki tugs you towards him, but you put up more of a fight, screaming for him to let you go. “See, just like that. You’re not just a spoiled princess. I could always eat you,” Ragnar smiles at you, but you still try to pull away.

“Do not fight it, hmm…Aesir, seems fitting. You know nothing of a fight, and we will overpower you quickly. You will train and learn. Bucky should be your partner, so you’re never alone. Children as young as you have already gotten their first scars. You are behind, Aesir,” you let out a growl, causing Floki’s annoying laugh to sound through the woods. “Save your aggression for training. I won’t hesitate to use your bones as a toothpick. You were a princess, but you will become a warrior goddess. “

You scowl over Ragnar, letting your sword slump to the ground, and Bucky throws his hands up, “She’s spoiled.”

“She is,” Ragnar agrees, smiling at you. He leans casually up against a fence, fascinated by your lack of training.

“She’s useless.”

“Hey!” You shout, and sling your sword at him. “I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to know you,” each sentence, you swing the sword at him. “I didn’t ask to be a warrior.”

“Because you’re a stupid girl.”

“I am not! I will be like Lagertha. Take it back,” Ragnar’s smile gets larger as Bucky blocks every one of your attempts of attack. But this was the first time you had shown any fire behind your eyes. Admitting your desire to be like your adoptive mother.

“I am Aesir!” Your voice was proud and strong, and Ragnar hadn’t ever seen that in you before. You were becoming the girl he always knew you could. He leans a bit closer on the fence, wanting to see how this played out.

“You’re not a god. You’re a spoiled brat,” with another yell, you charge towards Bucky, knocking him to the ground, and crawling over top of him. Hands tight around his neck, and Ragnar only laughs.

“The child has no discipline,” Floki admits, watching the two of you.

“She’s only been training for a few months. Bucky has trained his whole life,” Bucky looks over towards the men, sighing as he twists you around pinning you to the ground.

“Don’t do that again,” his steel blue eyes glare at you, and he clenches his teeth.

“Get off!”

“Why? So you can run into the house and cry?” Your eyes fill with tears, and your lip trembles. “Just what I thought.”

“Aesir, use your anger,” Ragnar tells you. You look over in his direction, and nod, understanding. You kick your foot up, knocking Bucky on the head, “There ya go. See? She just needs some…finessing. It’s in her. She’s special. Named her as such. Daughter of Thor, placed right at our fingertips. It is our responsibility to make her a fierce warrior. To cause fear at the sound of her name. And look at them. They love to hate each other.”

Ragnar fancied you to be Thor’s own daughter, and he was the one tasked with getting you into Valhalla. He took this job seriously, and wanted you to die as a true Viking. But so far, you were proving to be of little use. But you would be.

It was true, yours and Bucky’s relationship wasn’t normal. You claimed to hate the boy, but you looked forward to when his dad would drag him to you. Leaving Bucky for the day as Ragnar oversaw the two of you. “Maybe she would be better suited for a bow? Or maybe she possesses power.”

“Or maybe she’s spoiled, and you don’t know how to handle her.”

“Then, we must break her. Start fresh and new, but,” he points over to you and Bucky, you had him on the ground again. “She is learning. How about we trust her.”

“I don’t want to marry him, though,” you slam a bowl onto the table as you hear the news of your partner in crime and best friend. “It’s disgusting. I don’t even want kids.”

“Nonsense!” Ragnar goes on his tirade. “Even Lagertha gave me children. You are almost of age, and you will make Bucky a happy man. Your little godlike children growing up in the ways of Vikings, as they should. It’s done. His father agreed to it long ago, I’m just now bringing it up.”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Consider it, then. It is a good match. It’s not like you haven’t rolled around with him before. The two of you have been pinning each other for years,” your adoptive brother, Bjorn, chuckles, and you smack him in the back of his head. “You deserved that. At least she has someone that will marry her.”

“Bucky doesn’t want to marry me, either.”

“No, she’s been looking at,” you smack him in the back of the head again, and Ragnar smiles, leaning back in his chair. Even Lagertha stops braiding your hair, leaning over your shoulder.

“Who are you looking at, Aesir?” Her mouth turns up in a smile, and she winks at you. She had already caught you staring at him.

“No one. Why must I get married?”

“Because, it is what is done. You marry to further your line. You should be honored to be chosen for Bucky,” you slap Lagertha’s hand away and storm out of your home. “She’s acting like the spoiled child we brought here.”

“She’s developed a crush on Ari,” Ragnar shrugs. Ari wasn’t a bad choice either. Although there has been talks of you and Bucky for years. Everyone in the kingdom knew that you were to marry Bucky.

“It’s odd that man hasn’t chosen a wife.”

“He’s chosen some women,” your brother laughs. “Bucky is better suited. She couldn’t handle Ari.”

“Your sister could handle anyone should she want to. Do not doubt her powers. She has bested you a few times. But her and Bucky — it just makes sense, doesn’t it? Maybe she just needs to blow off some steam with Ari.”

“She needs something. She’s still uptight. Maybe she’s right. Bucky does have a wandering eye, and smiles at everyone. Maybe your plan to create the next Ragnar and Lagertha is ill fated, father,” Bjorn grabs up his things, heading out for the day.

“Maybe we should invite this Ari over,” Ragnar now the one to jump up, and head toward the door, being stopped by his wife. “What?”

“Promising her to two men? Seems a bit preconceived. Give her and Bucky time.”

“If she likes this Ari, she should have him. I’m just helping out our daughter,” and this is when your life started changing drastically. Never to remain the same again. Because Ari was also looking, and that terrified you enough to be honest with Bucky.

Masterlist

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