#bjorn x thorunn

[dragonsoftheeast]

if I had a voice, I would sing

read on Ao3

Thorunn and Ivar, through the years.

Written for the @vikingsevents Summer Solstice Challenge, Day 1: Meadow

“How blue are Ivar’s eyes today?” Aslaug asks, and Ivar opens his eyes wide for Ubbe to check.

“Very blue,” he reports.

“Then you must not train today,” Aslaug says, caressing his cheek.

It is the third straight week she has said this, and Ivar finds it doubtful that she will ever relent. He must watch from the sidelines yet again, pointing out his brother’s mistakes. Even Siggy has a small shield now.

Hvitserk takes the opportunity to steal from Ubbe’s plate.

Ubbe pulls up the cart. This is the part where Ivar will lift his arms up, and he will put him into the cart, and he will drag him along so that he can watch them train.

This time, when his brother reaches under his armpits, he screams.

“Ubbe!” Aslaug scolds, rushing over to comfort him. 

She rubs his chest and tries to lift him.

“No!” He screams again. “No, no!”

Aslaug sighs, and rubs at her eyes.

He struggles out of his chair, pushing aside worried hands- all except Sigurd, because of course Sigurd wouldn't be worried about him.

Ivar the Boneless, whose great deed is living by the grace of his mother, falls to the ground like a worm.

As he crawls, there is nothing great about Ivar. But he crawls, because it is the only thing he can do, and if it is the choice between two humiliations, then he will choose the one that is on his own terms.

It is more exhausting than he expects. As soon as he is out of the line of sight of his family, he allows himself to breath as raggedly as he likes. 

The dead weight of his legs drags him down, and yet he can feel the pain of them, the scrapes of his useless knees. His pants are ruined- not that that has ever been a concern for him, his mother will surely replace them on the morrow- and his hands are caked in dirt.

He carries on, and drags himself to the other side of the hall. He sits up, and leans against the wall, watching people pass by.

It is there that his brother’s wife finds him.

“What are you doing here, young Ivar?” Thorunn asks. Siggy is not with her. Most likely she is with his brothers, learning how to block and push with their small shields, learning how to strike with their small swords.

Without him. All of them, without him.

“Go away,” he says.

To his surprise, she does not immediately obey him.

“Does your mother know you here?” She asks, unconcerned.

“No.” The word escapes his lips against his will. “Please do not tell her.”

“Of course not.” She cocks her head. “I thought you would be training with your brothers.”

He glares down at his useless legs in response. He hopes their reality will make her uncomfortable; he already expects the sight of them to drive her away. But instead, she tilts her head and looks him in the eye.

“Ah. That explains why you are so angry.”

“I am not angry.” He seethes through his teeth.

She scoffs. “Of course you are angry. You are a slave to your body.”

He snarls, exposing his baby teeth. “I am no slave.”

"Perhaps not. But you lack choices. In my eyes, that makes you a slave."

He has no cutting comment for that, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Do you want to learn how to fight?” She asks him, after an uncomfortable pause.

What a stupid question, he thinks. 

“Of course I do.”

“Then you deserve to learn.” She crosses her arms. “Do you want me to carry you or do you want to crawl?”

“I want to crawl,” he says. “Where are we going?”

“To your first lesson.”

That is the first time she takes him to the meadow.

---

The lessons are slow-going, at first. There is quite a bit of trial and error.

For one, they must sneak away to the meadow, and there is not much he can do to hide himself from his watchful mother. 

She starts him out on a stool, and teaches the most important lesson: how not to get hit.

They quickly rule out him ever using a shield. His balance is precarious enough to start with, and he cannot shift it for defense.

Ivar must make up for the lack of a shield with devastating offense, she decides. It is a similar fighting style to Bjorn’s, but where Bjorn uses hammering blows from above, Ivar will use his lower vantage point to surprise his opponents. Every party must be quickly turned to counterattack, every dodge must become a way to get inside an enemy's defenses.

After two weeks of lessons, he comes wearing gloves that allow his fingers to peek through, with bands around his forearms. His pants are thicker, too, and he has tied his legs together.

“Floki says that if I am to crawl everywhere, I should have a new pair of shoes,” he says cheerfully. 

He has to adjust to holding the weapon with these new gloves.

It doesn’t take long for them to be crusted in mud.

---

“So this is how you have been spending your days, wife,” Bjorn says, leaning against a tree. “Making new memories in this meadow, hm?”

Thorunn snorts, smacking his shoulder. His brother laughs, clearly pleased with himself, and tugs on one of her braids.

Ivar pipes up, not happy to be left out. It happens to him far too often.

"I am learning to fight, Bjorn. She is teaching me."

“Should I be worried?” He asks her.

“Yes,” Ivar answers for her. “I will become a greater warrior than you. I will surpass you in all things.”

His eyebrows go up in a comical shock. “I should be careful, Thorunn. All my brothers aim to defeat me.”

"I would protect you," She says, "And Siggy would avenge you."

"Vengeance is the domain of sons, not daughters," Ivar says, irritated at how laughable they find this scenario to be.

“I must make do with what I have,” his brother says, completely unbothered by him. “But my father once told me that a father may be jealous of his sons, but a daughter will always be a light in your life.”

Ivar cannot help but think, what does Ragnar have to be jealous of?

“That’s enough rest,” Thorunn says. “Bjorn, you should go against him, since he intends to surpass you.”

She steps back as they ready their weapons.

Ivar has always known that his brother has possessed fearsome strength, but it is another matter entirely to face it himself. 

Each of his swings is a hammer-blow, and it is all he can do to block against him. 

The meadow rings with the song of steel, his desperate yells, until his brother binds their swords together and shoves, hard, knocking him to the ground.

His brother looks down at him, appraisingly. Ivar lifts his chin up, baring his teeth in feral defiance.

“You have learned well, brother,” Bjorn tells him, lifting him back onto the stump. “I would be honored to fight beside you one day.”

It feels like the highest praise.

---

Ivar parries Thorunn’s strike, barely shifting on his stump. 

“That’s good,” she says, patting the length of her sword. “But you must be stronger with your counterattack.”

He nods, and prepares for another series of strikes.

She lifts her sword again, and attacks.

“What are you doing?”

She flinches out of reflex, while her young pupil merely stares.

Aslaug, hands covering her mouth, rushes to his side. Sigurd smugly looks on.

Thorunn’s mouth gapes in shock. She never thought Aslaug would make her way out here, but she should have known better. Aslaug would walk through fire for her beloved son.

“She’s teaching me, Mother.” Ivar has always been willful, but his defiance rarely comes this calmly.

“You could have gotten hurt.” Aslaug fusses over her youngest, checking him for bruising or broken bones.

Sigurd looks vaguely disappointed- but not surprised- by this turn of events.

“What were you thinking?” Aslaug whips her head around to Thorunn. Her kohl is smeared around her eyes, as if she’d been interrupted while applying it. Her eyes are murderous. 

She knocks over a cup on the table, spilling wine.

What were you thinking?

She tangles her mistress’ hair with numb fingers.

What were you thinking?

She knocks the loom with her hip, causing a mistake.

What were you thinking?

No. You are a free woman now. She is no longer your mistress.

Thorunn pulls herself to her full height. Not as tall as Aslaug, but enough to look her in the eyes.

“He needs protection, yes, but he deserves choices. If Ivar wants to fight, then he should.”

She catches herself bracing for the slap. Certainly the bristling rage in Aslaug’s eyes always seemed to foretell that. Her body has still not forgotten slavery.

You are free, she repeats to herself, you are free.

She keeps her eyes away from her former mistress’ twitching hand. She will look her in the eyes.

You are free. You are free. You are free.

"Is this what you want, Ivar?" Aslaug asks, turning away from her.

"Yes, Mother," he says, blue eyes blazing.

"Then there is no doubt you will surpass even your father," She says, and turns to leave, Sigurd tramping behind her.

Once she is out of sight, Thorunn picks up her sword again.

"Let us return to our practice," She says, hiding the trembling of her fingers in the strength of her grip.

---

Once the two of them can practice openly, all things become easier.

Ivar comes up with a design so that his hand-axes have spikes on the handles, to make it all the more easy to crawl. He describes it to the blacksmith, hands flying. 

He can fight with his brothers now. He is on a level where he can put them to a draw- with no small amount of dirty tricks. He can be with them on the training grounds.

But he prefers to learn from Thorunn, and the meadow, away from curious eyes. But also because she is much more willing to entertain his wilder ideas, and experiment.

“What if I was able to attack from below? On the ankles, or the knees?”

“You would be too easily trampled,” she says, frowning. “The front line would not be your place.”

“My brothers could throw me at the enemy,” he suggests. “Break their lines, and surprise them.”

Her eyes narrow, unsure if this is a legitimate suggestion.

His cheeky grin says otherwise.

“Tch,” she scoffs. “They would certainly be surprised.”

Thorunn tells him of Bjorn’s dream of the Mediterranean. 

“I know already,” he says, with no small amount of childish pride. “Floki told me. That is why he is designing a new boat, as he did for my father.”

There it is, that slightest twist of the mouth, when he mentions his father. She never brings him up, not like any of the other members of the family. 

“You knew my father, didn’t you?” Ivar asks her.

“Not very well,” she says. “I was only his slave.”

He cannot imagine his mentor as a slave. Ubbe has mentioned it of her before, so he knows that it is true. But he has never known her as anything other than a free woman. She was the one who taught him freedom.

“What was he like?”

She hesitates, the same way his mother does.

“He was a great man,” she says. “Inspiring. When he led, you wanted to follow, especially in battle.”

“I did not know you fought beside him.”

“Only twice,” she says. She points to her scar. Quite fearsome: he remembers cowering from it as a baby, and even when he first began training. “And I could not go to Paris with him.”

“I would have liked to go with him.” He pouts. “Of course, I doubt my mother will let me into battle at all.”

“We have not been on raids for years,” she says. “We have many years yet where we can convince her.”

He looks over at his unlikely champion, who has so casually pledged her support, and smiles.

---

The time has finally come, for him to enter battle, and although Thorunn is proud of her first- and only- student, now it is time for them to part ways.

“I don’t understand why you have to leave,” he says, pushing himself onto his stump again. “You should come to England with my father.”

“Ah, but I have been to England before,” she says. “I was promised Paris years ago, Ivar. And I intend to go beyond that.”

“What if you do not return, hm?”

“As long as I do not die before reaching Paris, I will be happy.” She shrugs.

He shrinks into himself, as if he could hide the words he says.

“I would like to fight with you,” he mutters. “I would like to fight with you, and my brothers, and my father.”

Ragnar had never liked her, had doubtless never noticed her while she was serving him. All she was to him was an error in his son’s judgment.

Thorunn remembers much of Ragnar, but it is doubtful he remembers her as anything other than mother to his first grandchild. Perhaps as the woman who carried that grandchild into battle, receiving a scar that still marks her.

Ivar does not remember anything of the reality of Ragnar. They have been fed a steady diet of stories, great tales that neither Aslaug nor Thorunn contradict. Thorunn, because she cannot be bothered. It amazes her that Aslaug seems to want her sons to have a good opinion of their great father.

“You have a choice here,” She says. “You can come with us, or you can go with your father, or you can stay with your mother.”

He bites his lip, his eyes wide.

“What do you want me to choose?” He asks quietly. 

Sometimes, she forgets that Ivar looks up to her. The concept seems so ludicrous to her- the son of a king, asking the advice of a former slave. If she asked it of him, she might actually sway him. 

“I want you to choose.” She says, finally. “Do not forget that you deserve choices. Always.”

When Ivar leaves, Aslaug hugs her sons in turn and kisses them on the forehead. She saves her tears for once Ivar boards their boat. They stand on the dock together, Ubbe holding his mother.

As the boat sail away from each other, Thorunn stares Ragnar in the eye, the way she never would have as his slave.

#vikings #thorunn #ivar ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #aslaug #vikingsevents #summer solstice #vikingssummer #fic #bjorn x thorunn #glory and gore

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler

A/N: this was, as always, super fun to write. i decided to add in some super underrated characters bc i like them sm

tagged: @alicedopey, @demon-of-the-ancient-world (if u want to be added - comment)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Ragnar

Slightly uncomfortable at the beginning of it

Nah jk, he’s hella touch-starved

Two minutes in he melts into you

Will maybe ask you an ‘are you okay?’ after he’s got his fill

Didn’t want to ruin the moment

When you tell him you’re not okay he just starts cuddling you again

Lagertha

Immediately knows something is off

Makes you tell her before she cuddles you

Will get you some or something to eat

Gives you a big bear hug

Also makes you go for a stupid mental health walk

Bjorn

“Do you want to fuck?”

He does not know what you want from him

Awkward side hug

Apologizes later that day and gives you a bone-crushing hug

Ubbe

He already knew something was off

Lets you hug him and then puts an arm on your shoulder

‘Are you alright?’

Will do whatever he can to help you

Also gives extremely good hugs

Provides enough blankets

Hvitserk

At first he doesn’t notice

He’s just so, so happy you want to cuddle him

Eventually he goes ‘are you okay?’

Listens to whatever went wrong for you that day

Then becomes very clingy in turn

A little puppy

Ivar

As someone who I hc to not like touch that much himself, he’s irritated, mostly

Gives you an awkward hug back before he creates some distance

Gives you a ‘what are you on?’ stare

If you talk, he’ll listen

Very reluctant to hug you

As if you’re a prickly cactus, but he still manages at least one decent hug

Athelstan

2 words: touch. Starved.

You don’t live in a monastery to receive hugs all day

Soggy wet kitten aesthetic

‘Uhm okay’ *hugs you back* ‘What’s wrong?’

As someone who’s basically English, he makes you tea

And hugs you again

Thorunn

She’s talking to her friends when you come over and start grabbing her arm like a koala

Doesn’t mind – she loves you, and she’s not ashamed

Eventually, she asks you if something happened

Will take some one on one time with you to take care of you

Does not mind the clinginess though

Elsewith

Oh she immediately knows

Ofc she’ll ask you what’s wrong

Takes time off her queenly duties and comforts you

No one is allowed to upset you further

Poor Alfred knocks on the door and Elsewith shoves him out

Cuddles you until you feel better

#ragnar #thorunn #elsewith #ivar #hvitserk #ubbe #bjorn #lagertha #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #hvitserk x reader #ubbe x reader #bjorn x reader #lagertha x reader

[artemiseamoon]

Milk & Honey 1

Werebear Bjorn x ofc multi chapter fic

Status: complete | read on A03 

Fic info, general warnings, etc | next chapter ⬅️

Words: 1,494

Warnings this chapter: none really, mentions of past heartbreak, loneliness 

Gif credits to creators. If you prefer your gif removed, let me know.

Solitude is something Bjorn knows intimately.  He made the choice a long time ago to live a life away from crowds, humans and modern society. Though Bjorn wasn’t opposed to all modern things, he indulged in a few and built his cabin with certain modern amenities.

While it’s common among Werebears to isolate, Bjorn was more reclusive than most. Some of his kind elected to live among their own in remote camps, but that lifestyle never called to Bjorn. From the moment he was old enough to set off on his own, he did.

The longest time Bjorn spent in a community was in his younger years. It was during this period when he met his mate and fell in love for the first time. A future with Thorunn never came to be, her path took her in a different direction and Bjorn was never the same after this loss.

Heartbreak combined with the painful separating process slowly ate away at Bjorn and hardened the gentle parts of him. The parts of him that dreamed of a life with his mate, and a family to protect.

Through adulthood, as mating season came and went, Bjorn remained mate-less and sought temporary pleasure with occasional women when his longing got the best of him. But it was never anything serious or long term. After each brief encounter, he’d move on, continuing his solitary life.

At first, the loneliness didn’t bother him. Over the last few years, as he matured into his wiser years, the longing for a mate returned. Now, as the final weeks of fall wind down, Bjorn's desire for a true mate has become all consuming.

As usual, Bjorn only ventured into town for necessities. He built his home to meet all his needs and though he didn’t have to hibernate just yet, his heavy lonely heart was weighing on him.

The idea of hibernating early seemed like a good solution. He could figure out what to do once winter ends. Having made his decision, Bjorn pushed his desire for a mate to the back of his mind and headed into town for a quick errand.

…

September 20th, afternoon

Bjorn moved through town capturing the curious eyes of the locals. Even though he’s lived outside of this town for 6 years, he remained a mystery to them.

The massive Viking of a man only appeared as needed. To them, he seemed to have zero personal connections. He was always alone, even with a number of interested local women and men lining up to 'get to know him.'

Being here for as long as he has, Bjorn knew people's faces, names, scents, he greeted shop owners by name. Bjorn even made some trips for trading goods and selling things he crafted in his studio.

But that was the extent of Bjorns interactions. No one knew much about their curious, quiet, broody neighbor. To them, Bjorn was a single reclusive human male, a hunter and a craftsman.

Despite avoiding humanity, Bjorn did grow fond of this small town and appreciated the fact that most people, even with their curious nature, left him alone. And none dared step foot on his property. It was rare, but occasionally, Bjorn liked to get a drink at the local bar.

Each time inquisitive locals would join him, offer to buy his drinks and try to engage him in conversation. Depending on his mood, Bjorn entertained them just a little or not at all. Today, he was in the mood for a beer, and minimal to no conversation before returning home.

After dropping off a batch of handmade tools, Bjorn made his way to The Three Bucks' Bjorn was only a block away when the hypnotic scent hit his nose. The pleasant natural aroma took hold of him, possessing all of his senses. Every thought in his mind came to a complete stop. The alluring, soft and sweetly seductive scent of Gardenia and pheromones captures Bjorn completely.

Following the aroma, Bjorn reached the end of Main Street. The Fall Market is mildly busy, familiar faces wave at him from behind their stands. Still, Bjorn doesn’t give the faces much thought, he only has one focus, her .

The bear inside of him grows desperate and impatient with each step. With each human he needs to pass just to get to her. He’s waited for this for so long, longer than he could admit to himself.

Bjorn tried to convince himself he didn’t need this, and for years the human part of him believed it, it accepted this lie. But the bear inside of Bjorn always knew it was just a lie, that he would never feel truly fulfilled or complete until he had a mate and cubs to call his own.

Bjorn growls under his breath in frustration. Then, he spots her, standing at the donut stand with Mr. and Mrs. Green. A friendly old couple who owned a small patch of land closest to his, yet it was still a distance away. Bjorn slows his steps, as every one of his senses zones in on her .

Her laugh is warm, her smile full and bright on her freckled face. Her mane of thick wavy red hair is loose about her shoulders. As she chats with the Greens, Bjorn takes a step closer, continuing to watch from across the street.

“You had me at apple cider donuts. Yes, I’ll take them. All of them.” She chuckled and handed the vendor cash before sliding the bag off her left shoulder.

“We think you’ll like it here, it’s a sweet town. Anything you need, we’re a call away.” Mr. Green said.

“I appreciate the tour, thank you. I’m good to head to the cabin after this, see my temporary home.” She replied.

Whenever she speaks, her voice is loudest, the clearer to him. Bjorn continues to listen with his heightened hearing.

Cabin? He thinks to himself.

The closest thing to his land is a small quaint cabin owned by the Greens. When he first heard they would be renting it, he was upset. He didn’t want any human interference anywhere near his land. He didn’t mind when the Greens were there, they never bothered him, never even broached his landline. They barely ever hiked.

The couple themselves lived in a home about an hour out from the small cabin, and Bjorn's land was farther west toward the mountains. Getting there included a difficult hike, one that worked in his favor as humans rarely ever got close.

Over the last two months, as the quaint cabin remained empty, Bjorn was delighted. He hoped the Green’s went back on their plan and decided to keep the cabin private. One of his favorite things to do in bear form is to swim in the small river that ended just behind the Greens cabin. He didn’t want this joy interrupted, especially by humans.

Once, while swimming in the river, he did see the Greens, but they were always very respectful of wildlife and quickly left him alone. They would never know the bear they saw that day is the same man they greet on his rare visits to town. No one would, it remains Bjorns secret.

Bjorn hoped no one aside from the Greens would ever step foot in that cabin, but now, knowing she would be there, this striking woman who instantly cast a spell over him, Bjorn finds himself feeling thankful.

His mate and the Greens continue speaking among themselves as they move away from the market. Bjorn continues to follow in the background, listening, watching. His heart is racing in his chest and the beast inside of him is demanding dominance, demanding to take over.

Though bears have a gentle spirit within them, they are mighty and fierce. And Bjorn has always been a more aggressive Werebear. In the past, his impulses, desires and anger have proved burdensome for him. In his solitude over the years, he’s been trying to calm that, to practice more self-control.

His bear side grows more impatient with each passing second. He wants to take her, to tear her away from them and retreat to his oasis in the woods. But Bjorn knows he can’t do that. It would be hard enough to explain the mate thing to a human, abducting her in the process would definitely work against his favor.

As Bjorn follows them to their cars, he almost feels ashamed by how needy the bear in him has become. He needs her, his mate. He needs her more than anything. Bjorn has always prided himself on his independence and strength, on his ability to rely only on himself and need nothing from anyone. Now, as he watches the beautiful mysterious woman enter her car, he feels vulnerable.

Bjorn watches her purple car take off, following Green's van up the street. Bjorn quickly makes his way to his truck and follows them out of town, toward the woods.

Next chapter

#bjorn ironside #Bjorn Vikings #can’t believe in writing him #🙃 #werebear bjorn #Bjorn x ofc #human x werebear #fic: milk & honey #supernatural Vikings

[queenstormbornn]

what are your thoughts on bjorn/thorunn?????

Personally, I really liked them together despite it becoming unnecessarily disastrous by the end. 

It was both Bjorn’s and Thorunn’s first relationship. Bjorn was a romantic and Thorunn was a slave who later was freed.  Thorunn’s freedom was the most important thing to her. Being a slave for most of her life, she had no control and no say. By becoming a shield-maiden signified strength and respect which she never had the opportunity to have. I think that’s why she looked up to Lagertha who was well respected by the fiercest warriors.  Thorunn never really counted on Bjorn falling in love with her or vice versa. So, when she became pregnant so soon into the relationship with Bjorn she came to resent it hence why she fought in battle while pregnant. She had just earned her freedom and now, here is a child to take the thing she loves and enjoys the most away.  Bjorn was ready to become a father and settle into domestic life with Thorunn or his ideal version of domestic life (him raiding alongside his mother and father while Thorunn stays at home and takes care of their child). That’s what Ragnar and Lagertha did (until Athelstan came into the picture). 

As for Thorunn abandoning both Bjorn and their daughter, Thorunn suffered from postpartum depression, and couldn’t look Bjorn nor Siggy in the face without it being a constant reminder of the choice she made that almost killed their child. Plus, she felt resentment towards her daughter for taking away her freedom. I don’t think that makes her a bad mother nor person, but it broke Bjorn’s heart and changed how he viewed relationships/companionship. 

#ask me #bjorn ironside #thorunn #bjorn x thorunn #vikings

[hecohansen31]

Hello! I would like to request something! being the forgotten daughter of Bjorn and siggys twin sister. I just would really like to see that concept! How they would have grown up with her mother running away and her father not really caring and no one caring when her twin died! Thanks

(A/N): Hey sweetie!

Before you for further I do hope you’ll like this, because it isn’t my usual genre so I had a bit of difficulty, but I hope I was able to do my best, and I do hope that I satisfied your request!

Also if you are interested by this theme, I’d seriously tell you to check out this fic written by @ivarthebadbitch because it is *chief kiss*

WARNINGS; Mention of Death, Abandonement Issues, Post-Partum Depression, Depression, Attempted Suicides.

People said that you were lucky that you had lost your sister when you were young enough not to remember it.

They said that she hadn’t lived enough to do a lasting impression on you.

But they were all wrong.

They didn’t know that pain was much more than memory.

Pain was actually an hollow feeling in your chest you had never been able to fill, since you had lost your sister, but you knew it had started much before than your sister’s death, because before losing her, you had lost your mother.

You had been too young to know, but the more you grew the more you realized that nobody had ever braided your hair, careful not to hurt you or reassured you with a kiss on your cheek when you didn’t feel well enough, cradling you close to her chest.

Nobody had ever made you feel like a daughter.

And soon you had also lost your father too, a shadow over your body that hadn’t done much more than your disappeared mother and your dead sister.

You looked at him almost as a stranger, one that’d hug you with no emotion, too fast for you to map his body and to know it.

In the end, this absence of a family had pushed you to find one of your own, after you had grown up as a stranger in Aslaug’s care, and although she had tried her best…

… she wasn’t your mother.

This is why you had immediately run away as soon as you had been able to and you had searched a family.

And when you had gotten one, you had thought that the hollow pain in your chest would have disappeared.

But it kept on being there, because what you had suddenly discovered was that not having had a family of your own, you didn’t know how to act in a new one.

You didn’t know how to be a mother.

And this had ruined you further.

After the birth of your second child, you had been unable to even simply take care of it, standing and being constantly in bed, as voices whispered in your ears, asking you to end up this misery and to come closer to the fire, because even covered by all the furs in your house you still felt cold.

But the truth was that the coldness didn’t come from the outside, but it was a deep and cruel hole inside of you, swallowing everything positive and warm, till you were reduced to barely a sack of bones and thoughts.

Your husband had been dead worried, because you wouldn’t show empathy for your children, barely able to face them and he had started to stay at home, worried that you’d do something to them, but he was unable to understand that the only person you would have hurt was you.

The only person who had survived too much and had been left behind.

In the end you weren’t used to raising a family, and it all hurt too much.

You had thought that the best solution would have been stopping that pain in the most definite of ways, but your husband, poor man, had caught you just in time and you had expected him to push you away, isolate you as everyone had done.

Your father had taught you that men didn’t care anything for women, once they got what they wanted and your mother had shown you how easily it was to leave your children’s life.

That was their legacy.

But what you hadn’t understood was that the fact that you had never felt like a daughter also meant that you hadn’t to follow their stupid teachings.

That you could create your own path.

But for that, you’d need to come up and challenge the pain inside of you.

And you had done it, you had grieved the sister that everybody had forgotten, and you had allowed your mother to part herself from you, for ever, as you forgot of having had a father and just moved on with the family you had created, finally finding the creating the family that you had never had.

You learned better from your parents’ mistakes and you fought for your children to love each other and to be able to recognize that, but more importantly to also have parents who loved them and to whom they mattered.

Some nights you’d still be too cold but your husband would bring you closer, reminding you that it was all in the past.

Some nights you’d catch fireflies of memories and you’d be happy for Siggy, the sister who now rode in Valhalla, the one who could have been a fierce shieldmaiden and sweet wife, who had left glimpses in your children’s faces.

And you’d know that she’d be happy to know that you had been able to raise from that pain.

She’d tell you that she was glad that you had held on, and that you had lived the life she hadn’t been allowed to.

And then one day, you heard a light knocking on your door.

You hadn’t thought much of it, although you couldn’t help but be suspicious, since after married you had moved away from Kattegat, in a hut in the middle of the woods, so not many came to visit you.

You were more likely to move to the nearest village for the market day to meet people.

But there were still various motives for somebody to come in your house.

Still you grabbed a knife, and told the children to stay in their rooms, as you went to answer the door.

But at the door there weren’t’ any threats.

Just a man from your past.

Your father, Bjorn.

He looked much more older than he was supposed to be, weariness and tiredness on his face as you took it in, trying to remember how handsome he had been, how strong he had always seemed and how his eyes had always been set out somewhere searching for more.

And now they moved onto you, as surprise shone on his face.

He wasn’t used to seeing you as a grown woman and you weren’t used to seeing him, in general.

“… you have grown” he mumbled softly, as you were all too dumbfounded to do anything “… (Y/N)”.

“I think you are mistaken” the words hurt you, but you had to.

He might have been your father, but you had buried him alongside with your sister.

“No no, it is you (Y/N), my daughter” he spoke, quickly almost as if someone was running after him.

And with the way he looked, you couldn’t help but think that it might be Death, itself.

“… I am nobody’s daughter” you spoke, maybe a bit too harshly, because you saw your father’s eyes become cold and empty “… I was nobody’s sister and I was nobody for you, so don’t call me your daughter and don’t come to me, Bjorn Ironside, I buried my family alongside with my sister”.

And his eyes shone of something.

Regret.

He regretted what had made you grow bitter towards him, and he regretted not having been a father.

But it was too late, now.

#Bjorn #Bjorn Ironside #Thorunn #Bjorn x Thorunn #Bjorn Fic #Bjorn Ironside Fic #Viking #Vikings Imagine #History Vikings #Vikings Fic

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Googled Bjorn Ironside, this popped up, and I felt like making myself sad because dammit this bad bitch deserved better.

When Bjorn first saw her, everything else faded into the background. The hall was dark and smoky, she alone was vibrant and light, mumbling apologies for ale spilled into his lap. He noticed her hands shaking, clenched into fists, and tried to smile at her but she hurt his eyes like a blinding flash of lightning.

She whirled into his life like a storm, her hair in the wind and the smell of electrified air. Her flesh was a shock beneath his hands the first time he touched her, tamed the thunder rumbling in her.

And then she was gone just like lightning, too brief and beautiful to be bound to earth, too erratic to be predicted. She left him only with the taste of electricity in his mouth and a daughter he could barely stand to look at with her blue eyes like lightning flashes. The girl was like her mother, brief and beautiful, leaving him empty and aching.

He filled the void with Torvi, tame as springtime, but every time he opened his eyes all he hoped to see was lightning.

#bjorn ironside #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn x thorunn #bite-sized fic

[sammyjadedavis]

Everything’s changing…

Chapter 1

Torvi, is a Princess and she was the love of his life…or so everyone thought. You could tell he was a jealous man when it came to her, no man was dumb enough to stand to close to her or hold a conversation for to long and they would never give her bedroom eyes when he was around…he loved her full heartedly.

Torvi’s Point Of View

“Hello?” I yelled though my house not knowing who was here since no one was meant to be here other then me and my two sons who were both sleeping and it shouldn’t be the slaves since I’ve given them the day off. It couldn’t be Lagthera since she was also away raiding with the Ragnarssons and the rest of the people in Kattegat. I heard more noises not knowing who or what it was a grabbed the dagger off the countertop and walked towards the noise…

“Who’s there?” I asked once more but no response…I picked up the dagger as a I walked around more then a blonde woman was standing in my household crying…holding onto a piece of my husband’s hair?

“I’m only asking you one more time…who are you?” She looked up at me from the floor and then my husband walked in and looked at the thing in front of him before coming over to me and grabbing my waist pulling me into him.

“Who is she?” I whispered to him this time since she seems to be a mute at the moment and I would like to know who’s sitting in my house crying on my floor and why she is there to begin with.

“Don’t get mad…it is Thorunn…we had sex…while we where all in England and she’s…well…she’s with my child…Torvi look at me…” he had whispered all of this into my neck pulling at the necklace that was around my neck and he moved my hair more while I stayed quiet looking down at the woman who is still very much crying on my floor to my house with my husband’s baby inside her stomach…I was not happy…

“Get her out…I’m staying with Ivar tonight you can have the kids since they haven’t seen you in awhile don’t follow me also I wasn’t going to tell you this but while you were gone Erlendur came back and he raped me but you seemed to of had so much fun while you where away…I’ll see you tomorrow and if she’s still here you’ve made your choice…I don’t care if she stays in Kattegat she can but she’s not staying in our house with our children…” I said before trying to get out of Bjorn’s grip that he had around my waist not letting go…

“Wait go back…” he said turning me around in his arms so I was facing him…

“I’m staying with Ivar.” I said knowing exactly what he meant but I didn’t want to repeat myself not about anything that I’d seen, heard or said from the conversation I’d just had.

“Not that…you know what I mean…Little Bear…tell me what he did…” I shook my head and tried to leave again but he just bought me closer and put his lips on mine.

“I’ll see you in the morning Bjorn…” I mumbled against his lips before leaving…I couldn’t be in there not in that house with him and her not with knowing everything I know…I needed to be somewhere else…anywhere else and tonight that would be staying in the great hall with Ivar since his like a little brother to me and I know he’ll always be there for me as will I for him.

I walked into the great hall seeing many of the warriors standing around talking some kissing others hugging but all of them had one thing in common they were happy unlike me…sure I was happy my husband was still alive but I was heart broken he’d gotten another pregnant and it’s heart wrenching knowing that right now his with her alone and could be doing anything…but I wasn’t going to think about that or at least I was trying not too.

“Torvi? Torvi why are you not with Bjorn he was so happy to be back and to be back with you?” It was his mother Lagertha, she was a close friend of mine and I was close with her even before Bjorn and I started seeing each other. She leaned in for a hug and started walking towards a table with her arm still around me…

“His with the boys and I’m just here to see Ivar again and let him tell me about his raiding adventures…we were together for a while but his dealing with a few things at the moment and I didn’t want to interrupt…he’ll be busy for a while if you need me I’ll be in here tonight but you might be able to see Bjorn later tonight though his a little tried…” I trialed off trying to find Ivar or anyone else to get myself away from this mess that was happening in my life right now…I was looking for any of my close friends whether it be Ivar, Astrid or Margrethe any of the above will work for me right now…but knowing my luck of late none of them were in sight…

“Oh and Torvi I just wanted to tell you Bjorn’s got another brother…Magnus his from Kwenthrith and Ragnar’s affairs that had happened in England…all them years ago…now go find Ivar I know his been looking for you but understood that Bjorn has first rights to see you…since he is your husband after all.” I nodded letting my head go crazy and then I wonder off to find Ivar and let my brain take a break from everything that is happening in my household right now…

#bjorn x torvi #torvi x bjorn #angrboda #bjorn ironside #erik #guthrum #harald fairhair #halfdan the black #ivar lothbrok #siggy #thorunn #hvitserk ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #margrethe #Magnus #gyda #sigurd snake in the eye #lagertha #aslaug #Kwenthrith #judith #king ecbert #astrid #athelstan #aethelwulf #aethelred #king aelle #floki #helga

[alessa-10]

#my type of otp

(insp.)

#bjorn ironside #thorunn #bjorn x thorunn #vikings #vikingsedit #dailyvikings #vikingssource #mine

[littleoceanfairy]

I’ll always come back

Pairing: Athelstan x reader (female) Fandom: Vikings Words: 308

*Trigger warning* Fluff

„I haven't slept in ages. The kids are keeping me awake all night, begging for their father.“, you sigh an place the basket of vegetables on top of the wooden table. „I just hope they get back soon.“, Siggy turns around with a longing gaze to the horizon, where you've last seen the ships, that carried your husbands away from Kattegat. „I just hope they get back at all. I can't raise four kids by myself.“, another worried sigh leaves your lips as you place one hand on the visible baby-bump that makes moving harder than in already is.

Just two days later, the horns were heard throughout the village as everyone left their work and started gathering at the shore. „Father is coming home!“, Egil screams out and pulls his little sister , Eostre, and baby brother Jerrik behind him. You try your best to keep up with their pace, while concentrating on not slipping on the muddy path. As you get to a stop you place your hands onto your oldest's shoulders and look around for your husband. You can spot Siggy wrapped into Rollo's arms, Ragnar and Aslaug already leading most of the people towards the great hall, and even Bjorn and Thorunn can be seen together in the distance.

„I knew you'd wait for me!“, you suddenly hear a familiar voice call out and seconds later your wrapped into your husbands arms. „I thought you were dead, but here you are smelling like a wet dog.“, as tears start streaming down your face, the tall man cradles his children in his arms. As the kids make their way back to your house, you stay behind a bit and walk hand in hand.

„I thought I wouldn't see you again, Athelstan.“, you mumble and he stops, turning towards you. „I'll always come back to you.“

#Athelstan x reader #athelstan #vikings #littleoceanfairy #vikings athelstan #george blagden #come back #Spotify

[allherdaydreams]

Headcanon: Bjorn's Best Friend Being In Love With Gunnhild Would Include...

(Platonic!Bjorn x lesbian!reader, Bjorn x Gunnhild x fem!reader)

Warnings: angst towards the end but an overall happy ending. polygamous marriage. bad writing but that's me and hirst both

Note: so this is my first headcanon that is actually telling a story and isn't just random shit than i find funny and accurate so i'm sorry if it's really boring or if my writing is weird! i just love gunnhild and think she deserves all the love so i wanted to write this out lol. also, this part is mostly you & bjorn because i ran out of room thanks tumblr, but there will definitely be a pt2 if people like it. if you have any other requests or want to be tagged in future stuff, tell me!

you became friends with bjorn when you were both still teenagers

his mother, lagertha, had married the earl of your land a few years before

when you decided to become a shieldmaiden, you quickly caught lagertha's attention due to your talents

she decided to take you under her wing, and also introduce you to her son, who she thought would be a good training partner for you

the two of you became fast friends as well as very talented warriors

when bjorn and lagertha went back to kattegat, you joined them

lagertha tasked you to be bjorn's personal guard because she knew you were used to keeping him from doing stupid things

when he fell in love with thorunn, you were the person he talked to about his feelings and you gave him advice

after thorunn left, you convinced him to keep little siggy and promised to help raise her

and boy, did you help raise her

you were her mother in practically every sense of the word, she even stayed at your home more than bjorn's

though siggy wasn't as impulsive as her father, you did have to keep her out of quite a bit of trouble

while also still taking care of her fuckboy father

once siggy has grown up, you spent the next decade or so of your life going on adventures by his side

and trying to keep him loyal to torvi, his second wife and another good friend of yours

"bjorn, stop flirting"

"bjorn, don't look at that woman that way"

"bjorn, you cannot sleep with astrid, your mother sleeps with her"

"bjorn, you cannot marry snaefrid, you already have a wife"

"bjorn, elsewith is engaged to the king of wessex, no-"

he's a mess but you keep him out of too much trouble, though, he and torvi still don't last

gunnhild is captured after battle, and you join bjorn in questioning her about lagertha's whereabouts

you are the first to realize she doesn't know anything, and you convince bjorn to set her free

gunnhild becomes close with both you and bjorn, and although you begin to develop feelings for her, you also know that bjorn is falling for her

so you say nothing and watch as he marries her, trying to be happy for your best friend

bjorn knows you too well though and after some time of you acting strangely, he confronts you

you tell him the truth about falling in love with gunnhild, nervous about how he will react

he's pretty shocked

like, his best friend just sat back and let him marry somebody that she was already in love with?

he definitely doesn't understand why you'd do that

but he's pretty apologetic and definitely supportive

"well... do you think she feels the same for you?"

"i don't know, i mean, you're the one she married, but i thought she felt the same. maybe i was just being too hopeful."

so he goes and talks to her, without you knowing

she admits that she does have feelings for both of you, but that since only bjorn was vocal about how he felt, she chose him

so he definitely doesn't know how to feel at this point

he wants his best friend to be happy, of course

and he doesn't want to stop his wife from having something that she cares about either

plus there's kinda this other woman who's caught his eye

so he proposes a solution to everybody's problems

basically, he asks you to join the marriage, as well as asking for gunnhild's okay on marrying ingrid, so that they can both be happy and not have to give anything up

so i'm out of room haha but like for pt.2! sorry if this is too long!!

thanks for reading <3

#bjorn ironside #vikings #vikings headcanons #queen gunnhild #gunnhild vikings #ragga ragnars #alexander ludwig #lesbian headcanon

[dragonsoftheeast]

i don’t ever think about death (it’s alright if you do, it’s fine)

read on Ao3

Thorunn begins to worry that her scar- and what it means- will somehow affect her pregnancy.

Written for @vikingsevents Autumn Equinox Challenge Day 3: Sacrifice

Crouched on the side of that hill, Thorunn thought that the worst possible ending would be her death. She would die in glory though. This last year of freedom feels like enough. Even a day had been enough. She could be satisfied with her life and her death.

When the first blow came, she’d thought it very strange that she couldn’t see anything. Her eyes were watering, she had to brush away her tears, she couldn’t be crying on the battlefield. A second later, it was hair in her face, and she couldn’t raise her hand to brush it away, and she really should have tied it back tighter-

Then she’d woken up, and for those brief moments, the pain had been blinding. But she hadn’t even had the energy to scream. She tried to open her mouth, and even that hurt too much.

“Thorunn! Thorunn,” Bjorn’s voice reaches her through the fog of pain, and she can see the gray-blue of the sky through fluttering eyelids. “Are you thirsty? Is there anything you need?”

“I am not thirsty,” she mutters, and her mouth is too dry and too wet all at once, but as always, she must make him understand. “Or hungry, or alive at all.”

Because it would be easier to be dead. It would be easier to be dead than this half-life, these days of pain, this awareness of something missing in her face.

And yes, Bjorn would mourn her for a bit. His first love, he would remember her forever. But she would always be young and beautiful in his mind. 

She looks down at her rounded stomach. 

And he would have mourned the child inside her. Even Ragnar might mourn the child inside her, if Bjorn had ever told him.

But now that it is clear that she and (more importantly) his grandchild inside her, are not about to die, he has gone back to ignoring her.

She can accept that, more than his judgment, more than annoyance, more than the fear in his eyes when he looks at her that has nothing to do with her. She has been a non-entity to him for so long when she was his slave that this is a place of familiarity for her.

The wound has scarred, becoming rough and stiff in the smooth skin of her face. It pulls at her face no matter how she moves, and it is red, so red, she can’t help but think people can see it even through the thin linen of her veil.

Bjorn assures her that she is still beautiful, and he’d married her anyway, that little sham of a ceremony. But she sees the pity in his eyes, and the guilt, and she knows the truth. 

He forces himself to touch her, to look at her, she sees and feels his hesitation. This consideration, this affection, comes from the remainder of his love from before she was scarred. Eventually, these residuals will run out, or she will give birth and all of it will transfer to their child, and it will hurt when she sees it in his eyes.

So she is weaning herself off of him. When eventually he realizes that he doesn’t love her anymore, she can end things on her own terms.

That’s what she would like to think. But she knows, in her heart of hearts, that it is still her that’s the problem, really. The weakness in her. She doesn’t know how to be a warrior. She doesn’t know how to be a royal either, to maneuver in these halls where she used to serve.

She thought that having her freedom would be enough for her. That freedom had made her new. But there is still so much left in her that doesn’t belong in her current station.

Her husband returns to her that night, beaming. In his hand is a slice of bread, slathered in honey. He offers it to her, and she accepts silently, chewing it softly, and she barely tastes the sweetness.

He rests his hand on her belly, and she doesn’t flinch back. It is natural for him to have affection for his child. 

“How is baby doing today?” he says.

How could she be so delusional as to believe she could be worthy of the son of Ragnar Lothbrok? The son of Lagertha? To stand alongside, to fight alongside, to bear his child? 

“It’ll be weak,” she says softly.

He blinks.

“What?”

“It’ll be weak,” she repeats. “It’s your child, yes, but my child too, and it’ll be weak, it won’t survive, I know it, I know it-”

“Thorunn,” he says, and there is actual terror in his eyes, despite his steady hold on her and his even voice. “How do you know this?”

“Look at me,” she says, because isn’t it obvious? “I was wounded while it was within me, who’s to say it has not been affected?”

His face pales as he considers what she has said.

“We will sacrifice tomorrow,” he says, finally,firmly. “We will make a sacrifice to Frigg, that she will protect you and our child.”

She nods. Yes, anything. Perhaps the goddess would help her child escape the consequences of its mother’s actions.

So she chooses a sacrifice.

Bjorn offers up one of his horses. But no, if she chooses one of Bjorn’s vast horde of animals, it will not be a sacrifice. She has to be giving something up, something real. Something hers, because the fault is hers.

Her little goat has grown big, now. She is Thorunn’s, and the first thing that is solely hers, even as she adds to her flock along with Bjorn’s. But she is precious to Thorunn, and will make a fitting sacrifice. 

She is too trusting, as they lead her to the altar.

Bjorn holds the goat down and Thorunn holds the knife. 

Let this not be an omen, she prays, let this child be free of me. And slices across her little goat’s throat.

#thorunn #bjorn ironside #bjorn x thorunn #siggy bjornsdottir #in the womb but still #vikings #vikingsautumn #glory and gore

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Hey can you do rollo x time traveler fem reader please?

Pairing: Rollo x (fem!)reader

Notes: I hope you like this haha. I had a really hard time deciding at what phase of the series I wanted to throw the time traveler in since Rollo changes so much but in the end, I settled for something simple and kind of gist-y. Small POV switches to mix it up.

I used this translator for Old Norse: https://lingojam.com/OldNorsetoEnglishTranslator, and didn’t put translation in order to get the ~vibes~ right

y/c – your city

Summary: The woman that appeared out of nowhere could be oh so dangerous, but even a stupid man would know that she was fascinating.

After Bjorn left to return to Kattegat, Rollo sat at the edge of the water alone, sharpening his axe as he tried to clear his head.

As the chaos in his head remained, Rollo sighed and got up, heading towards the line of trees. Suddenly, a woman appeared in front of him. She was looking at something in her hand and briskly walking towards him, not looking up.

Rollo’s hand wandered to his weapon. Where had she come from so suddenly? He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t register her walking into him. Her shoulder brushed his as she kept looking down at the little object in her hand.

Barely looking up she muttered a stranger word. “Sorry.” The woman said, before heading on. Where the hel was she going?

‘Sor-ree?’ Rollo thought, ‘what kind of word was that?’

Suddenly, the click accompanying the woman’s walking stopped and Rollo turned around. She was staring back at him with wide eyes.

Only then did he realize how strange she looked. A square piece of cloth was covering the lower half of her face and her hair was pulled away from her face in a strange fashion. In her hand, she was holding some kind of leather sack. She was scantily dressed, wearing a white linen shift that was tucked into what looked like the short, lower half of a black dress. Her shoes were the most curious thing though. They were shiny and black and seemed to get higher in the back, giving her a taller appearance.

By far the strangest thing, even surpassing the shoes and the face covering was her cape though. It barely reached her waist and had only two buttons.

Rollo’s hand wandered back to his weapon.

Your POV:

Bewildered, you stared at the shirtless man. One second, you were rushing to Starbucks to get your coffee in your too short lunchbreak, attempting to catch up on your emails, and now you were standing at the edge of a forest together with this dude?

He was staring at the blazer you’d put on to protect yourself from the wind that was common during fall, even in your city. As if he looked normal!

This literally shirtless man (though you could appreciate it), was staring at YOU, while he looked like he was straight out of some medieval period drama. Were LARPers this delusional? But how had you walked through a forest and towards a river without noticing.

With a sigh, you closed your Emails and opened Maps to find your way back. Out here, it was eerily quiet, too quiet for a park in the middle of the city or a forest next to some highway. Looking at the screen, your mood got even worse.

Great. Of course, I have no service.

So, you turned to the strange man. “Hey, excuse me, do you know where y/c is?” you asked. The man stared at you.

“Do you speak English, sir?” you asked carefully. Still, no response. You pinched the bridge of your nose. You did not want to embarrass yourself with your terrible school French, nor the Korean you’d just started learning with Duolingo just a week ago.

“Parlez-vous francais?” you tried again. No fucking response. Great.

“한국어는 어떻습니까? 당신은 최소한 한국어를 말합니까?” you attempted, jumbling words together. The man looked irked, but he still laughed at your terrible Korean. You crossed your arms.

“What the fuck man?” you asked, more than slightly irritated.

“Hverr eru þú, víf?” the man responded. You were dumbfounded. The language sounded like a Scandinavian one, and momentarily, you cursed yourself for choosing Korean over Norwegian.

The man rolled his eyes at you. Finally, he pointed to his chest. “Rollo. Minn nafn er Rollo.” he told you.

He was telling you his name! You realized. It rang a bell somewhere, but instead of pondering too long you quickly pointed at yourself. “Y/N!”

He arched a brow but motioned you to come with him. “Koma.” He told you. You though you knew what he meant and walked towards him. It was incredibly stupid, but there wasn’t really another option and his weapons looked serious.

The trek through the forest was painfully awkward, and your shoes were worsening everything. The heels kept sinking into the muddy ground, much to the amusement of your companion.

“Shut up or I’ll stab you with one of them.” You muttered under your breath.

Three steps later, you gave up, and pulled off your shoes. You barely managed to take off the first one before the strange man picked you up and carried you through the forest, bridal style.

After you got over your initial shock, you slapped him against the chest. “Let me down!” you demanded.

He laughed at your actions and ignored your protests, carrying you through the forest.

I’d like to put my hands on that chest again though. You thought, before cursing yourself and trying your best to think about your ruined shoes.

Finally, you made it to the edge of the forest and Rollo put you down, returning a shoe he’d stolen from you.

You glared at him as you put it on and marched away from the forest without looking back to him. As you made it to the edge of your “city” you stared. What was this place? Wooden huts? Who still built that stuff?

The man caught up with you, finally having pulled a shirt over his head and led you into the city. Immediately, you noticed that everyone was staring at you. Whispers followed the two of you as these strange people stared, stopping what they were doing.

You almost gagged as you saw flies buzzing over a decaying hunk of meat. Rollo didn’t seem to notice your discomfort as he pushed you forward, towards a tall house.

Just as you stood before the open doors of this house a very uncomfortable thought overcame you.

A lot of these people carried real-looking weapons. And then, your mind conjured another thought that was maybe even scarier. And all of them are white. Literally all of them. Is this some kind of sect?

The inside of the house was filled with different people mingling. At the end of the hall, a man and a woman sat on two throne-like chairs. Again, people became silent as they heard the sound of your heels and turned to stare. All of them were silent, except for a skinny man wearing eyeliner, who giggled and jumped into your way. You gave him a forced customer-service-style smile.

Finally, Rollo came to a stand in front of the man. “Ek vitumk þessi strange víf inn forest, Ragnar.” He said.

Now, you realized who this guy was. Your friend had been a huge Vikings fan and rambled towards you how the writer had fucked over both Rollo and Ragnar’s death.

“OH! You’re that Rollo guy, aren’t you?” you asked him. “You know, Rollo Duke of Normandy and shit.” Suddenly, the man called Ragnar jumped from his chair and walked towards you. He stared at you and plucked at your mask.

“Hey!” you replied, but he only chuckled. Then he stared at the many piercings decorating your ears. As he reached up to touch your left ear, you slapped his hand away. You just got a new ring put into your helix, you did NOT need an infection, especially not in this place.

“Gerir hon eigi mæli okkarr tunga?“ Ragnar asked Rollo, who shook his head. “Nei, en sumr fleiri tunga.” He responded.

The man called Ragnar looked to some others gathered at a table. “Athelstan! Komfylgjagðr mik með þessi víf.”

A smaller man walked towards you and looked to Ragnar questioningly. “Vel, líðár. Mæltilr hana!”

“Minn nafn er Athelstan.” The man said. Rollo scoffed, clearly unsatisfied that Athelstan was attempting the same thing as him.

“Do you speak English?” you asked him hopefully.

“English?” he repeated. “Bebrûcan êow tôsprecan Englisc? stêpan êow into Wessex ðýl¯æs?”

“No, I’m not from Wessex. Is that even a place anymore?” you asked. This was embarrassing, but you tried your Korean again. Better get it out of the way.

“한국어를 할 수 있습니까?” you tried. Collective laughter went through the hall. Ragnar shushed them with an amused smile.

“Parlez-vous francais? S'il vous plait, j'ai eu une terrible journée.“

Athelstan turned to Ragnar. “Fyrstrinn tunggerirr sounð bitr lítenglishr. Ok þriðiinn einn er lítfrankianr. En annarrinn einn, ek eigneverr hearð.“ He said quickly.

“hvat um þinn gods tunga? latin?“ Ragnar asked.

Athelstan sighed. “Vafgerar eigi mæli at.” He replied. When Ragnar only stared, he shrugged and turned to you.

“Loquerisne latine?” Athelstan asked you. Somewhere in your muddy memory, you remembered a year of torture when you’d taken Latin and a smile broke out on your face.

“Sic!” you exclaimed, and the man looked taken aback. “Bene, terribilis sed...” you trailed off.

…

After a week in Kattegat, your head pounded with new vocabulary. You’d gotten over the crazy fact that you’d traveled back in time.

While Ragnar had stolen your phone on day two and Athelstan trailed you like a shadow, as if you’d start spewing knowledge any second, Rollo was nice enough to let you stay at his place. You thought it was dingy, but really, it was way better than most houses here.

A woman named Siggy sometimes came by. She’d explained period products to you, and you were so grateful for that. Other than that, Floki was slowly warming up to you while Helga was positively sweet. Their daughter Angrboda was just too cute.

Aslaug was still cold towards you, but it had gotten better since you’d yelled at Ragnar in a mix of languages for letting Hvitserk play by the fire after having to extinguish the boy’s flaming hair and eyebrows.

Currently, you were leaning against Rollo’s shoulder as you listened to Torstein tell a, to you, unintelligible story. Rollo had begun to warm up to you and you tried to ignore the crush you had on the man that rudely carried you into Kattegat.

The story devolved into what you guessed were drinking games and eventually, everyone stared at you.

“They want to know if you know any.” Athelstan explained. It was annoying that he already spoke English better than you spoke Norse.

Immediately, your mind went to truth or dare, and you decided to modify it.

“Truth eð darer eð drinkr.” You said in your terrible norse. When asked for instructions, you repeated the name. The others were skeptic, but as soon as they began playing, everything devolved into positive chaos.

Soon, Ragnar was wearing eyeliner applied crudely by Angrboda while Floki was condemned to have Sigurd sitting on his shoulders for the rest of the game. Everyone, to their great delight, had found out that Torstein almost lost his virginity to a 50-year-old woman while Bjorn was still beet red over having to explain his attempts to woe Thorunn, who’d laughed her ass off.

Finally, it was your turn. Floki cackled as he thought about it and settled on dare. “Ek dare þú til kysse Rollo.” He said.

You raised an eyebrow while Rollo had tensed up next to you, looking like he was about to murder Floki.

Very rudely, Torstein made a few smooching sounds, pointing right at Rollo. “Oh.” You realized, turning to look at Rollo.

Even though his hair was open, you could make out his red ears. Suddenly, Rollo leaned forward and kissed you while you were still processing the dare.

Then, you regained composure and kissed him back properly, a cheer going up around you.

…

A few months later, when your Norse was somewhat acceptable, you learned that your mutual crushes had apparently been very obvious to everyone but yourselves. You smiled as you saw the beginnings of the small stream where you had stumbled into Rollo half a year ago.

Soon, you’d be leaving to raid Paris for the first time, and Rollo had insisted for sparring. Well, you both knew that the ‘sparring’ usually devolved into less productive things, but neither of you minded…

#rollo #rollo x reader #rollo lothbrok #rollo x you #fanfic #vikings #ragnar #hvitserk #angrboda #sigurd #aslaug #bjorn #thorunn #athelstan #vikings time traveler

[honestsycrets]

Would you be willing to take a request for a season 2)3 Bjorn X female reader? Idea I had was that reader is Floki's daughter from a woman before Helga and she's always been close to the family, and after that initial thing with Thorunn/Porunn and she rejects Bjorn (talking about how she had choices etc) he and the reader become a thing and basically fluff of them being happy and Ragnar, Floki, Lagertha and Helga being happy about it

Hmmm, yes. I got you on that, but it might be a lot less fluffy with what just popped in my head. We’ll get there, though.

[goldentailedmermaids]

Vikings for the tv ask game

Favourite character: Rollo, Kwenthrith, Aslaug, Thorunn

Funniest character: I’d say Floki, perhaps, in that he is always so edgy. He’s your basic emo boy.

Best-looking character: Aslaug, Rollo, Gunnhild, Thorunn, Roland

3 favourite ships: Rollo x Gisla // Aslaug x Lagertha // Kwenthrith x Aethelwulf

Least favourite character: Lagertha, Ubbe and Bjorn #sorrynotsorry

Least favourite ship: Rollo x Lagertha. BURN that ship! BURN it Viking style!

Reason why I watch it: Oh I loved watching it mainly for the battle scenes, the drama, the relationships and the pretty costumes. It all went downhill after season 4a, in which none of the writing made sense or was coherent with the ensemble and from now on it became an inconsistent patchwork and it broke my heart and I was so angry I stopped watching it because Lagertha killing Aslaug was the last straw.

Why I started watching it: Because I already loved that Viking aesthetic thanks to Thorgal and I craved for some more and I am a history nerd sooooo... I watched one, two, three episodes and I was hooked.

#vikings #oooooh 4a #you bitch ask game #edythofhastings

[ivarthebadbitch]

Top 10 Vikings characters

ooh, top 10? all right, let’s do this alphabetically:

Athelstan: I thought his struggles with faith and identity made for one of the best and most compelling character arcs across all six seasons. of course many people come back to his relationship with ragnar (which was indeed great), but I also really appreciate this character on his own merits too.

Ecbert: absolute fave, i have a huge weakness for conniving, ruthless kings who also manage to be hilarious. did NOT care for ecbert x judith (much as I also like judith) but...oh well.

Gisla: this woman really waltzed in during family breakfast and yanked rollo out so she could have sex with him in the kitchen on christmas morning, what else is there to say?

Gunnhild: one of the best of the newer characters. while I’m not really down for the noble womanly suffering angle or the bjorn sex scenes, I really enjoyed her scenes with lagertha this season. also I cannot get over how tall ragga ragnars is.

Hvitserk: This was a character I did not especially care for until 6a, mainly because I think hirst didn’t have a clue what to do with him. but marco ilso put in a great performance this past season and won me over. he tries to play his role pretty straight but he’s got this slightly doofy quality to him that I find endearing.

Ivar: no surprise here, right? but for real, I found him super compelling in 4b and 5a, where he stole pretty much every scene he was in--he was funny, insecure, destructive, vulnerable, and sometimes just really fucking weird. I know a lot of people disliked his 5b arc, but I thought it was fitting for his character; it was just terribly depressing as well.

Kwenthrith: I find the whole ‘haha look at the sexy crazy lady’ thing uncomfortable, but I will say amy bailey is very funny, and her attempted seduction of aethelwulf in her aviary(?) is hands down one of the most hysterical scenes of the whole show.

Margrethe: I think “deserved better” is mostly a useless phrase that needs to be retired, but when it comes to margrethe...well. she was set up to be unlikable and unsympathetic and contemptuous, and yet her whole trajectory is one of those that is just super revealing about what the writer really thinks about class and gender (see also: freydis).

Siggy: The real MILF on the show! I really appreciated her grappling with her feelings and anger over her lowered status, and I was sad to see her go in s3. at the same time, I thought her death scene and reunion with with her daughter was really beautiful and one of the most moving sequences from that season.

Thorunn: I dislike where her character arc ultimately ended up, but I thought her relationship with bjorn was nicely developed (and imo hirst tends to do much better with already established relationships as opposed to new ones). I appreciate that she told him straight out that she needed time to figure out her own feelings; this is the type of introspection and growth that feels less and less common in the later seasons.

[sammyjadedavis]

Everything’s Changed…

Chapter 2

Bjorn’s Point Of View

I knew Torvi was pissed at me from finding out about Thorunn and the baby…but I was more focused on what she had told me before she left…Erlendur raped her…I was going to kill that son of a bitch. Tonight there was going to be a feast and I would be in attendance with both my sons Erik and Guthrum…Torvi would also be there since she’s going to be staying in the great hall tonight with my little brother Ivar The Boneless…I’m not sure how to feel about that.

“Bjorn?” I looked up knowing that it was Thorunn but hoping it would be my wife…it wasn’t.

“What?” I asked not really being in the mood to speak with her since I knew Torvi was pissed but she’s not like my mother and I’m not like my father. I’m not gonna ask for Thorunn’s hand but I am gonna keep Torvi’s hand and sure I will be in the kids life but I’m not going to be out of my sons life either. I knew I needed to have this talk but I wasn’t going to like it.

“We need to talk.” I nodded but walked out of my bedroom knowing if Torvi was to walk in and see me in our bedroom with another woman let alone the woman I cheated on her with and got knocked up so tonight’s feast will be crazy if I walk into the great hall with another woman surrounded by my family and every other person in Kattegat…it was going to be a shit show.

“So I know you told me you were married and this was only meant to be fun but I think I’m in love with you…” she moved closer to me but I moved back and stood up standing on the other side of the counter trying to stay away.

“No I’ve told you this many times the only reason you are here is because you are carrying my child and I want to be in my kid’s life I really do but I have two sons and a wife who I love more then anything in this world then them and you need to understand that…I love Torvi and only Torvi…not you not anyone else. And I know this may sound wrong but if Torvi wants you gone then I’ll do it without questioning it. I will raise this kid once it’s old enough and you can be in its life but yet again if Torvi wants you gone you will be gone. I can set you up with a house and give you a slave but you will not be around my kids nor my wife and you will not come to this house unless you are invited, got it?” I said to a woman who is pregnant with my child and crying on my chair…then I heard another cry but it was from Guthrum’s room so I left Thorunn sitting alone while going away to my son.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” I asked looking down at him from the door way and he moved so fast to get out of the bed and into my arms…this is what made me happy my little boys smiling and my wife but right now my wife is not here and my kids may not be smiling at me.

“I-I want mu-mum…” I smiled down at him picking him up off of the floor and whispering into his ear…

“If you go wake your brother will’ll go to the feast where your mother already is…Yer?” I asked and he nodded jumping out of my arms and running out to his brother…Erik.

“Thorunn I’ll find you a place to stay but you can leave anytime you wish but never come to this house without an invite…also don’t come to the feast tonight I’m spending some time with my kids, wife, sister, mother, father, brothers, friends and people…not you,” I said before showing her out the door and turning to my boys picking them both up and walking out of my house and down towards the feast which was being held at the great hall.

We walked into the great hall to see my mother and father siting next to each other like that had when I was a child myself with out children of my own…he was even touching my mother’s face.

I walked over to where Ivar and Torvi where seated and in a deep conversation but that didn’t stop my sons from running over to their mother and climbing into her arms…she smiled down at them before asking something and then they both pointed to me and Torvi just gave a small smile and moved her head a little showing me that she’s fine with me coming over.

I took the seat next to her and Guthrum climbed out of her lap and into mine while listening to his uncle’s storytelling from when we where away raiding. I didn’t release I had moved closer to Torvi and draped my arm around her shoulders and had my other hand resting on her though she did and didn’t say anything only moved closer to me which I thought was a good thing till she whispered…

“I’m not coming home tonight and Erlendur’s coming over here so this is the only reason for my closest to you right now…we may work things out but tomorrow once I’ve rested and let myself think…I know this hurts you but I need to do this for myself or our marriage will be something of the past and not have a much longer future…I’m sorry.” But never the less I still wrapped my arms around her and kept our boys close to us we both spoke with my family myself with my brother Magnus and Torvi with Ivar and our sons but it was a good night till I got home to a cold empty bed and that was when the voice in my head started yelling at me for what I’ve done…

#bjorn x torvi #torvi x bjorn #angrboda #bjorn ironside #erik #guthrum #harald fairhair #halfdan the black #ubbe lothbrok #gyda #hvitserk ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #ivar lothbrok #Magnus #torvi #siggy #kwenthrith #king ecbert #thorunn #athelstan #lagertha #aslaug #astrid #margrethe #floki #helga