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#history channel vikings
levithestripper · 3 months
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5 times Ragnar and Athelstan looked at each other + 1 time they didn't
VIKINGS— Ragnar Lothbrok and Athelstan
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mrgabel · 6 months
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day 2: favourite episode
For @vikingsevents Autumnal Equinox.
Couldn't really decide on a specific episode so I went for the most important scene that set everything in motion. When Ragnar and Athelstan locked eyes first time.
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majorxmaggiexboy · 5 months
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King Ecbert rolling up to the crucifixion like
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Not Today XLII
A/N: And we're finally back with another update! I posted on my last update to Can You Imagine? That I was going to try and get on a system of posting an update weekly, rotating which fic I'm updating, which means this will probably be updated about every three weeks going forward. So that said, I hope you all enjoy being back to this story, and I hope you'll stick around for the coming updates- I told you this wasn't abandoned XD Skål!
Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.
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Asta felt like she was going to explode. Talking to Olaf had brought up all the grief she’d felt over the years, everything she felt she had locked away when she left Kattegat, and now it was threatening to burst out of her if one more thing happened to bring it out of her. That’s why she needed to talk to Ivar- if anyone would know how to stay sane in the face of everything they were facing… Well, it wasn’t him, but he could help her sort through things at the least. 
She let Hvitserk lead her back through the town quickly, indulging herself in the protective arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders. How would she be able to stand it if something were to happen to him, or to Ivar? She’d already lost so much… Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle it- and not like this, when she wasn’t sure she’d handled what had happened so far just yet. If she went through it in her mind- the father she hadn’t known, Heahmund, the father she had, Aethelred, her mother, Freydis, Lagertha, Bjorn… And those were only the deaths. What about Alfred, and Torvi and Ubbe who she hadn’t heard from in… who knew how long at this point? 
Her mind turned back to something her beloved Freydis had once said to her, after the death of the Bishop Heahmund. When she had confessed her heart had broken with news of his death, Freydis had told her that her heart would repair. But that had been before everything else she had lost. She wasn’t so sure anymore that was true. Very suddenly, she held out her hand and held it to Hvitserk’s chest. “Wait,” she said, and he looked down at her confusedly.
“Princess?” he questioned. “What is it?” 
“I think I need to be alone,” she confessed. “I need… I need to think. Please.”
“Of course,” Hvitserk replied. “Where will you be should we need you?” 
Asta swallowed, looking out over the mountains. “I’d say wandering, but that wouldn’t be of any help, would it?” she said with a quiet chuckle. “There’s a clearing not far from here, take the path out of Vestfold and follow it to the east. I’ll be there.”
Hvitserk nodded a little. “Be careful,” he warned her. “Keep your sword about you at all times, just in case.” 
“I will, thank you, Hvitserk,” she replied. “Will you let Ivar know?” She didn’t worry about clarifying, sure enough of him to believe that he would know what she was asking him to tell his brother. And happily, she saw she was right, as Hvitserk asked no questions. Instead, he kissed her on the head and wished her well before heading toward the palace. 
Now all alone, Asta started down the path she’d indicated to Hvitserk, keeping an eye out as he’d requested. Besides, as little as she trusted Oleg and his men, she didn’t want to take any risks.
In the days since Asta left Wessex, she had noticed something about the way she’d picked up Viking customs. She didn’t pray the way she once did, not anymore. She had grown up praying in church, on her knees in the pews, hands clasped together and head bowed. Now, she just… prayed. The rituals had all stayed behind in England, and in their wake was left comfort and familiarity, a relationship as opposed to religion. Freedom she hadn’t once known.
Unlike Kattegat, Kiev had been stifling. She had to hide so many things there, for fear of what Oleg may do if he learned, even having to resort to hiding away to say a prayer. It wasn’t because Oleg had something against Christians- on the contrary, the man claimed to be one himself- but rather because everything he believed about her would begin to unravel if he learned this one truth about her. Asta knew Oleg would never understand how a wanderer who came to Kattegat, and became the wife of Ivar the Boneless, had become a Christian in her time there in Kiev- and to not partake in the rituals of the Kievan Rus would simply make him question things even more. She knew if he continued to pull on that thread, it would inevitably lead him to the truth- that she was English, and nearly everything he knew about her was a lie. No, she couldn’t allow that.
Thus, she waited until she was well enough alone to pray, and even sought out a hidden place to do so. Somehow, she found that just stepping into that space released the restraints she felt she now lived her life in, and she let out a long breath as she felt the peace of it wash over her. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed quietly, her voice nearly a whisper. “My life has changed… so much in the past years, Lord. My family are all but gone, my past buried so deeply inside me that I can hardly tell where the truth ends and this lie begins. Add to that how miserable I feel with each and every lie I tell, and I just… I’m so lost. Telling my story to King Olaf has brought it all back, every part of myself I’d silenced, and I know now that I cannot continue on this path I’ve set myself on. But what happens to Ivar and Hvitserk, if I reveal the truth? They’ve known me for years now, won’t Oleg know this? Know what they’ve done in helping me to conceal this? What will he do to them for covering the lie? I need You to show me what I am meant to do, to give me the strength to do it. I’m so afraid, Lord… of losing anything more than I already have.” She swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “Help me overcome these fears. Bring me back to You. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” 
The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted Asta, and she turned back to see Hvitserk running down the path. “Asta, you need to come now,” he said, urgency lacing his voice. “They are going to kill King Olaf.”
Asta’s eyes widened as she processed the words, and she blinked a few times. “What are we doing?” she questioned. “What does Ivar want us to do?” 
Hvitserk shook his head. “Nothing,” he answered. “He wants us to attend the execution, but we will not interfere. He wants to keep Oleg’s trust still.” 
As little as Asta liked the idea of just letting this happen, she nodded. “Alright,” she replied. “Then we should go.”
They nearly ran back to town, to the docks where the execution was to take place, so they wouldn’t miss any of it, and by the time they wormed their way up to the front Asta could see that Olaf had already been tied down to a chair. Ivar, Oleg, and Igor were there as well, standing up at the front to watch the execution. Hvitserk moved to lean against a post nearby, while Asta came to stand beside Ivar, watching as two men stepped forward and began to pour oil all over… the wood piled around the chair? Oh. It was then that Olaf began to speak, and Asta’s eyes widened.
“There is someone beside me,” he said.
Oleg frowned. “There is no one beside you,” he said. “You are all alone.”
“No, there is someone beside me,” Olaf reiterated. “Although I cannot see Him, I know He is here.”
“How do you know, you old fool?” Oleg demanded.
“Because He speaks to me,” Olaf said. “I hear His voice.”
Asta swallowed as she realised what he meant, and a chill ran down her spine. Anticipation began to build in her. Listen.
Hvitserk glanced over at Asta, noticing the suddenly attentive gaze she had pinned on King Olaf. He hadn’t confessed to this earlier, but he’d heard the tale end of her prayer. He knew now what the woman was struggling with, so he asked, “And what does He say?”
Olaf answered, “He says, ‘He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. I am the resurrection and the life. I shall walk beside you. Always. Always.”
Asta was stunned. I shall walk beside you. She glanced over at Ivar, who she could tell understood the point of Olaf’s words, and had grown concerned. Why, she couldn’t say, but she knew what it meant to her. She had to do what was right, and the rest wasn’t up to her.
Still, she was distracted from trying to figure that out by Oleg’s interruption, as he instructed Igor, “Don’t listen to him, get on with it.” When he shoved the boy forward, a torch in hand, Asta felt anger boil up inside her. He was really going to make a child do this? He had the gall to order a man’s death, but not to go through with it on his own? To do it himself? She wasn’t sure her opinion of him could get any lower than this. Then, she noticed how anxious Igor clearly was, and her heart clenched.
“This isn’t right,” she murmured from beside Ivar. “He’s a child…”
“I know,” Ivar whispered in return. “But we cannot stop it. Not without raising suspicion.”
She swallowed again as she heard Olaf trying to comfort Igor, even as the young Prince was preparing to end his life. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, though in Asta’s experience that rarely actually helped.
“I can’t,” Igor replied.
“Think of me as already dead,” Olaf advised. “Nothing more can hurt me. Not the thunder, nor the deep swell of the waves, nor yet, the tongues of fire.” 
Igor turned back to Ivar, as if silently asking whether or not he should go through with this, and while Ivar nodded to encourage him, Asta glanced over at Oleg. He was clearly quite unnerved by this, seeing that Igor preferred Ivar’s encouragement to his own, and that, at least, brought a small smirk to Asta’s lips as she turned to watch the execution again. Let him stew on that. Children rarely sought strength from the person who pushed them too far, anyway.
The boy knelt down in front of Olaf, lowering the torch toward the pyre built at the King’s feet. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” Olaf replied. “My lands are in order, and I am ripe for Heaven.”
He offered Igor a reassuring smile, and Igor finally lit the pyre, before standing and beginning to back up. Ivar reached out and wrapped his arm around him to pull him back, protecting him from the flames that grew quickly to ensnare Olaf within them. To the surprise of most there, however, the man lifted his hands as if in prayer, and gave nothing even close to a cry of pain as he was consumed. Oleg shook his head and stalked off.
For once, his behavior left Asta unbothered as she watched Olaf’s life fade before her eyes. She hadn’t known him for very long, but she had quickly realized how wise he was, the depth of his knowledge, and the fact he had asked the question that had been the catalyst to her awakening was something she couldn’t simply overlook. It hadn’t taken very long at all, but King Olaf had become quite an influential figure in her life. But the Lord worked in mysterious ways, she knew, and all paths crossed for a reason. She found herself thanking God for Olaf’s life, and for the chance she got to meet him, swallowing as she blinked to clear the wetness from her eyes. The crowd began to disburse, and Ivar asked her if she was coming along with him, Hvitserk, and Igor, but she answered that she wanted to be left alone for a while. 
She stayed until there was nothing left to stay for, a lone figure on the dock. 
Eventually, Asta returned to the Great Hall, and she quickly became aware of Ivar at her side. “My love,” he whispered, disguising it with a kiss to the side of her head. “Are you alright? Hmm?”
She nodded slightly and leaned her head over against his. “Just tired,” she answered. “I don’t think I’ll stay for the feast tonight. I need to get some rest, think about some things.” 
Ivar frowned, not convinced at all that Asta really was ‘just tired’ as she said. But, he wasn’t about to force the truth out of her in front of this crowd, so instead of trying he simply nodded and kissed her head again. “I’ll come and join you soon,” he promised. “And I’ll bring you food and drink. Go rest.”
Asta smiled up at him lovingly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “You don’t know how much of a comfort you are to me.” She leaned up to kiss him softly, and rested her forehead against his, taking a deep breath as if she could draw some sort of strength from him. Ivar returned her kiss before pressing one of his own to her forehead, and releasing her. 
She wandered off to head to their room, stopping to press a kiss to the top of Igor’s head and telling him she was proud of him, and when she got in there, the sounds of the feast now distant, she felt a weight come off her shoulders. Running a hand through her hair, she went and flopped down on the bed. It was then that her door opened, and she looked up to see who had come in.
If there was anyone she had expected to see, it wasn’t Igor. Still, she smiled a little when she saw him, sitting up to greet him. “Igor,” she said. “Can I help you with something?”
“You did not seem like you were well when you left the feast,” he told her. “I wanted to come and see what was wrong.” 
Asta let out a touched sort of sound and smiled at him, reaching out to invite him to come and sit with her. “Oh, sweet boy,” she said affectionately. He did as she offered and settled in beside her, so that she started to run her fingers through his hair. “I’m more worried about you than you need to be about me. How are you after today?”
Igor swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to kill him,” he said. “I’m not even sure what he did wrong.”
This brought forth a sigh from Asta, who ended up laying back with Igor and holding him close still. “Nothing,” she said. “Your uncle wanted him dead because he feared the loyalty King Olaf could inspire in the remaining Vikings. This sort of thing isn’t exactly uncommon in war, but…” She paused and gave a soft sigh. “It wasn’t right, especially not the way it was done. Your uncle made the decision, and he should have seen it through himself- not passed it off to his young nephew. I can’t tell you how sorry I am he did that, and how much I wish he hadn’t.”
Igor shrugged a little as if he wasn’t all that bothered. “He said he wanted to teach me how to be strong,” he said. “So I had to be the one to do it.”
“Killing a man doesn’t make you strong, darling,” Asta told him. “Although you are strong for enduring what your uncle made you do today. But killing in itself isn’t what defines strength. In fact, your uncle showed a lack of it when he didn’t kill King Olaf himself.”
“He did?” Igor asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.
She hummed as she nodded. “He did,” she confirmed. “Never forget this, Igor. If you ever decide to execute a man, you must always be willing to carry it out yourself. If you aren’t so convinced it’s the right thing to do that you have the strength to do it, then it isn’t right. Do you understand?”
He nodded at her. “I think I do,” he confirmed. 
It was just then that the door opened again, and Ivar was coming in with a plate full of food, a cup balanced carefully on it and leaned up against his arm. He blinked a few times when he saw his wife and Igor laying together. “Did I miss the invitation?” he deadpanned.
“Yes,” Asta teased him in response. “I was just telling Igor how he couldn’t trust you anymore, and he could only trust me.”
Ivar raised a brow and asked Igor, “Is that true?” 
“No,” he replied. “She was teaching me about strength.”
“Ah,” Ivar said. “This makes more sense. I did not think she would betray me that way.”
Asta chuckled softly. “Mm, but he could be lying, you’ll never know,” she joked. 
Ivar smirked and brought her food and drink to her. “Then I suppose I will just have to trust you,” he answered, and once the food was sat on the small table beside the bed, leaned down to kiss her softly.
That was when Igor gave a fake gag and got up. “I’m going to go now,” he announced, causing Asta to fall into a fit of giggles. “Enjoy… that.” He shuddered and then walked out of the room.
“Should we have stopped him?” Asta asked, looking up at Ivar and trying not to laugh, especially when he shrugged.
“I wanted to see if you were doing better anyway,” he said. Her laughter died down instantly. “Mm, you are not. Hvitserk told me you had left the village to pray. You only leave for that when something is bothering you. What is it?”
Asta swallowed and looked away from him, sitting up slowly as she took in a deep breath. This wasn’t a conversation she had expected to have this way, but… she had asked for a path, hadn’t she? The time had simply come to take it. She looked back up at him, and said, “I think we need to talk.”
Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @crashbyers, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @lotr-got, @dekusdante
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fandom-postss · 10 months
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Vikings OC Fanfic
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maidmerrymint · 2 years
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The ultimate power couple. Olga x Ivar x Freydis
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woahhhgwendolyn · 7 months
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Birthing Ivar's Child Would Include...
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-Birthing his child would not be like anything else. He would make sure that you are comfortable and have the best doctors around to make sure that you are okay while birthing his child.
-He would honestly not know what to think the first time that he gets the news that you are going to birth the child that night.
-He would of course come straight away to the house where you are birthing and stay there with you through the whole process.
-He would kind of be worried for you in a sense because he has not seen a women birth before, so he does not know if any of what you are going through is normal.
-He has to be constantly reminded by the doctors that it is completely normal what you are going through right now. He is just nervous for you.
-He stays there with you the whole time that you are birthing. No matter what. He even tells his brothers that you are birthing and that he will be a while before seeing them again. Because he does not know how long it will take you to birth the child.
-After a long while of you trying and trying to birth the child you finally birth the child.
-Ivar could not have been happier. He was so happy he could not hold in his happiness and started to smile like a maniac. After a while after you birthed the baby Ivar's brothers came in and got to hold the baby and say hi to them.
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blakeswritingimagines · 5 months
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Dating Hvitserk would include:
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He is fiercely protective of his beloved. His love is like a raging fire, burning bright and hot. If anyone were to harm or threaten you, he would not hesitate to unleash a fierce attack. He would go to any lengths to protect you, even if it meant hurting himself. However, he also can have a very soft and gentle side when it comes to you. He would be very gentle and loving towards you, cherishing you with his every breath.
Well, if you consider the fact that he is a 10th-century Viking, a pretty strange experience most likely. He might take you on a boat trip to raid and pillage a village, as one of his way of showing affection.
Dating him is like having the best time of your life. He's great with making the person he's dating feel important and special in every way possible. He is also a good listener and can hold an engaging conversation about anything you want to talk about. He's also very loyal and would never cheat or lie to the person he's dating. Plus he knows how to have a good time and he's always up for trying new things. And he's not too shabby in the looks department either, if I do say so myself.
He's a very caring and loving man who is protective of his person and would never allow you to come to harm. He is also very loyal and faithful, always remaining faithful to you no matter what. He is very caring and will always be there for his partner when you need it, doing his best to support and comfort you. He is also a very passionate man, who shows his love to his partner in many different ways. He also becomes a very affectionate man.
He is very open and honest with you. He believes in communication and being able to talk openly and honestly about your feelings and thoughts. He is always there to listen to and to help you with any problems that you may have. He is also a very romantic man and will always come up with creative and special ways to show his love for his partner. He is not afraid to show his emotions or to express how much he cares for you.
Being in a relationship with him is like being protected by a fierce warrior who is soft and loving at the same time. His love is strong and sincere. He would do everything in his power for you and protect you with his life. He is very territorial especially when it comes to you and is not afraid of showing you or those around his possession. He can also be very possessive and would need reassurance every time you go out. He becomes very jealous because he is scared of losing you.
Well, he's a man who's very strong and can be very dominant, so you better know how to stay in your place. When he is not angry he's quite kind, and he also likes to play around with the people he likes, although that often involves teasing you and saying a few dirty things. But if you ever want to make him jealous you only have to flirt with other men or spend enough time away from him. But you better not try it too much.
When it comes to dating him, you can expect a lot of attention. He's quite possessive and obsessive, so he likes to keep his partner close by his side at all times. He can also be quite clingy and needy, but this is all because he's so deeply committed to your relationship. He wants you to feel safe, secure and loved.
Dating him can be both a blessing and a curse. While he is extremely loyal, loving, and supportive, he can also be a bit overprotective and jealous. His love for you is intense and all-encompassing, so much so that he wants you to be completely his. This can sometimes lead to arguments when his partner wants to spend time with other people. But ultimately, dating him is like having a constant source of love and warmth in your life.
Dating him can be exciting and fulfilling. He's a very loyal and loving partner who will go above and beyond for those he cares about. He's also very possessive and protective, and he's not afraid to show it. He's very protective of his partner's safety and well-being. He can also be quite obsessive and has a tendency to get wrapped up in the person he's with. He's very romantic and passionate, and he loves showing his affection both physically and emotionally.
If you manage to catch his attention, you're in for a treat. At first, he'll be distant but always polite. When he likes you, and if you're worthy of it, he'll be possessive, obsessive, loving, and protective. At times he might even become quite jealous. He'll make time for you. Take you on dates that mean something. Tell you everything you want and need to know. The only downside is he is a bit clingy and requires a fair amount of attention.
He might be intense at times, but it would never be boring. He would always keep you on your toes and keep you guessing what he would do next. He would shower you with love and affection, but he would also keep you on your toes with his protectiveness and possessiveness. You would find that he is thoughtful and romantic but also strict and possessive. Dating him would be a roller coaster of emotions, but one that you would never want to end.
As a partner, he would be constantly expressing his love for you in both words and gestures. He would shower you with gifts and compliments, and always be there to support you and cheer you on. He would also do his best to fulfill your needs and desires, both physically and emotionally. In return, you would find that he tries to be a patient, understanding, and forgiving individual. He would always work to resolve conflicts in a calm and mature manner and would value the bond that you share above all else.
He would show affection in many ways. He would provide support and comfort when you needed it. He would cook for you, write you letters and texts, and surprise you with thoughtful gifts. He would make sure to listen to you and be present in your life. When possible, he would also shower you with physical affection, hugs, and kisses. He would take time out of his day to make you feel loved and appreciated.
Some of his favorite kinks involve showing off his body and being admired by you. He enjoys feeling desired and sexy, and he gets a thrill from knowing that you find him attractive.
He likes to be dominant in the bedroom. He enjoys being the one in control and dictating the pace and intensity of the action. He likes to be the one who takes the lead and gives you orders. However, he also likes to be submissive at times and let you take control. He enjoys switching roles and experimenting with different dynamics, all to ensure the most enjoyable and pleasurable experience for both of you.
He enjoys exploring your body and finding new ways to please you. He likes to find your sensitive spots and use them to slowly and sensually build up the tension until you are begging for release. He also likes to use toys and other tools to enhance the experience for both of you. He wants to explore and try new and exciting things, and he gets a thrill from seeing his partner being swept up in the moment. He wants you both to achieve ultimate pleasure in all of your sensual encounters.
If you are into it, he is open to experimenting and trying new things. As far as sex positions go, he is open to trying different positions and finding he has no problem with hitting it from behind.
He enjoys using toys and other accessories to enhance your sexual experience. He finds it exhilarating to experiment with different toys and outfits, and he enjoys seeing your reaction when you try something new.
He also enjoys role-playing and pretending to be different characters, as it makes sex more fun and interesting. He wants your sexual relationship to be playful, creative, and entertaining as well as satisfying and physically stimulating.
He enjoys both romantic and wild, animalistic sex. In romantic sex, he loves to have a deep, emotional connection with you and to show his love through intimacy. In more animalistic sex, he likes to be wild and impulsive, letting go of his inhibitions and simply enjoying the pleasure of the moment.
He likes to explore different positions and fetishes with you, and he enjoys switching between being in control and being submissive. Most importantly, he wants to make sure that you are satisfied and have a pleasurable experience.
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Vikings • S3 x E6
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aikaterini-drag · 4 months
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Embrace of Two Hearts
Summary: Harald has been traveling, negotiating alliances but now that he is back, he can’t take his eyes off of his wife —as well as his hands off of her.
Pairing: King Harald Sigurdson x Queen Fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, kisses, implied smut, besotted Harald.
Kofi 🧡 AO3 🩷 ASK ME 🩵
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It had been a long time since Harald Sigurdsson had left Norway to build alliances and trading negotiations with the surrounding kingdoms. The matter had required his attention and he had been forced to leave you behind so you could take care of the kingdom in his absence. You were his Queen, the person he trusted and loved the most.
After meeting with various wealthy yarls and merchants, Harald’s plans had been prosperous; he’d stricken deals to trade goods and boost the income of his kingdom.
After almost two months at traveling, he was finally back.
Harald hadn’t blown the horns to make his arrival known.
He wanted today to be a surprise.
He wanted to see your face light up and hear your happy laughter as you reached him.
So after a light meal and a much needed bath, he headed to one of the villages where he was told you had gone shopping.
With his hood pulled low over this face, he strolled along the bustling Viking village, and when he saw you, his eyes fixed on you. You hadn’t taken notice of his presence; you were engaged in conversation with some of the women selling silks and spices. Resting his great frame on one of the stalls, he took his time and watched you for a few seconds. When waiting became too much to handle, he slipped back his hood and approached you.
A loud gasp left your lips when you finally saw him. You blinked, as in disbelief and when he smiled invitingly, all dimples and sunshine, you rushed into his arms. Your husband was back! Oh, how you’ve missed him, craved him! You’ve been exchanging letters with him during his travels but nothing compared to him holding you, touching you. And there he was, tall and handsome, wearing his marvelous regal tunic and leather pants, his fur cloak, his handsome face forming a warm smile.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful queen!” he said when you practically jumped into his waiting arms.
"Oh, Harald!" You pressed your lips against his in a long kiss. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”
“Surprise,” he said, his lips stretched delightfully.
“Oh, how I missed you! Is everything alright? The negotiations?”
“Everything’s perfect. I’ll tell you about my feats later.” He cupped your face, his hungry eyes taking in your beauty. “Let me look at you, have my fill of you.”
“Did you miss me so much, my lord husband?”
“Only a little, my lady wife.”
"Only a little?" You raised a brow. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I lied. I missed you. Painfully. Deeply. Hard.”
You laughed. “You debauched Viking.”
He grinned. “I've hoped to distract you from your shopping. Is it working?”
You fluttered your eyelashes. “Only if you kiss me again.”
Smiling in that stunning mischievous smile of his, he lowered his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours wetly. The touch was too swift for your liking but since you were still in public—and everyone was staring… you drew back softly. Harald locked your hands together and led the way back to your longhouse. You walked through the hall, with him stealing kisses and whispering sweet words to you.
When he had you in the solitude of your room, he scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed. You giggled as you bounced stop the furs and pillows. He joined you, a thick knee climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. And then he was all over you, his strong body draped over your slender frame. He watched you with eyes ablaze with the passion, his lips parted. He brought his hands to caress your cheek, his knuckles tracing your skin lovingly.
“What is it, King Harald? What has you so enthralled?” you teased, leaning into his touch.
“You,” he said simply. “My wife… my beautiful wife who outshines even the finest jewels.”
You kissed him lightly. “I’m not as charming as my strong and courageous husband.”
“I disagree. You are achingly beautiful and perfect. And I am not in the least charming.”
“Oh, you're charming. Impossibly charming.” You claimed his lips and he moaned. “Your charm is as sharp as your sword.”
Harald grinned. “My love, my sword only yields to you. Sharp and ready to service you.”
“You didn’t just say that!”
He kissed your forehead, however, his hands were skillfully dragging up your gown. “What are you thinking, my mischievous wife?”
“What are you thinking, my mischievous husband?”
“I’m thinking I missed the feel of you. And that I want you,” he said and rolled his hips gently, and even with the layers of clothes, his groin pressed hard against her center.
Whining softly, you slipped your hands under his tunic to feel his warm skin. “Me, too. It has been so long.”
“Hm… I have been denied your warmth but no more.”
“Make love to me?”
“All day and night, my love.”
He pulled you close and kissed you deeply and fervently, lips meeting, tongues brushing. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but your love and passion. Clothes were tossed away, skin touched skin, sweat tricked like little diamonds and then came bliss.
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editfandom · 11 months
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Vikings
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levithestripper · 6 months
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“You are lucky.” “Why?” “Because you have never been married. I would not come back here, if it weren’t for my children.” VIKINGS— 03x05 “The Usurper”
AUTUMNAL EQUINOX WEEK— @vikingsevents ➳ DAY FIVE: FAVORITE SCENE— RAGNAR AND ATHELSTAN RETURNING HOME TO KATTEGAT.
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mrgabel · 6 months
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day 1: favourite character s
Was speaking today to @darksidekylux about how I always miss @vikingsevents Autumnal Equinox.
Shortly after, I saw that it starts today and seized the opportunity to sit down and draw this piece. I felt a bit rusty because I haven't drawn Athelstan and Ragnar in so long but I am pleased with the colours!
Happy Vikings event, everyone!
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majorxmaggiexboy · 5 months
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Athelstan: I SAW GOD HE CAME TO ME IN THE FORM OF LIGHT HE DID NOT SPEAK AND YET I HEARD HIS VOICE AND I AM BORN AGAIN Ragnar: if you are experiencing a medical emergency please hang up and dial nine-one-one immediately
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Can You Imagine? XIX
A/N: FINALLY another update- I feel like most of my author's notes start out that way XD Still, I haven't abandoned this, an am consistently working still on it, Not Today, and One Swallow Can Make A Summer, so I'm hoping to get on a schedule of posting a chapter a week, rotating which fic gets updated each week! Next on the list will be an update for Not Today, and then we should be on a good schedule. So stay tuned for those updates if you're interested- otherwise, I hope you enjoy this (very late) update! Skål!
Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive... she may have to learn to trust him again.
Masterlist
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Seize the Moment and Stay In It
Leaving Ivar behind hadn’t been in Freydís’s plans.  Björn, she hadn’t ever even intended to pick up, but this was another game entirely now. She was spiralling out of control, and she’d hurt Ivar simply for interrupting her. What kind of a wife did that? Hadn’t she been upset with Ivar for hurting her? For behaving toward her as no husband should? What kind of a hypocrite was she, to hurt him now?
You aren’t a hypocrite though, are you? Not really, a quiet voice whispered in her mind. The presence had returned, once again just behind her, but when Freydís now tried to look, she thought she saw some kind of dark shape quickly escape her peripherals, hiding behind her again as it laughed quietly. You cannot see me, it told her. Not like this. 
“Can I see you?” Freydís asked the voice, her eyes slipping shut as she tried to call the figure it came from into view. 
Not like this, it repeated. You know how.
It surprised her to find that she did know how. Her eyes glowed red as she began to levitate in the air, her body tilting back as if in a bed. She fell asleep.
When her eyes opened in that space from before, where the ground was cracked beneath her feet, with something glowing beneath. Now, Freydís was able to recognise it for what it was- that is, that it was magic, just the same as the magic she possessed. What exactly this place was, she still wasn’t sure, but she felt more connected to it now. It felt somehow more comfortable now.
The voice was no longer just that, as the same figure which had met her here before walked out from behind her, still just as mysterious, hooded and hiding her face. “See?” she said, seeming rather smug. “You did know how to see me.” Freydís rolled her eyes, unable to help herself.
“I did,” she replied. “But we’ve spoken like this before.”
The figure hummed and chuckled softly. “We have,” she confirmed. “But I think you have called me here for a purpose haven’t you? What is it you wanted with me?”
Freydís swallowed a bit. The truth was that she had wanted to ask something of this figure which was always with her, but how she had known that… It was baffling, at best. At worst? Outright concerning. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she confessed. “I mean, I do know, but I can’t do it.” 
“You must,” the figure advised. “If you won’t, everything is lost. Surely a few moments of their pain will be forgiven? Ivar has done far worse to you, and they have done far worse to each other. Why not take this chance for all of you? For those in the future who you will save from this fate you are already suffering?” 
“Then you are saying that this sacrifice is necessary for the greater good?” Freydís questioned for clarity’s sake. The figure nodded.
“I am afraid so,” it replied, and stepped forward, brushing a hand through Freydís ’s hair. “There is no other choice if you wish to put an end to the schemes of those who wish to play at weaving fate.”
Freydís nodded reluctantly, and took in a deep breath which she let out slowly. “Then I have work to do,” she almost whispered. The figure hummed, and then suddenly Freydís was waking, and she adjusted so she would land on her feet when she returned to the ground.
It was a dreadful thing, realizing what she had to do to her husband and his brother. But if she was going to find the information she needed from either Dr. Schmidt or Professor Andersen, she wasn’t sure she had much of a choice. So, she began the work of preparing her space, creating little fires all around herself in a circle by burning various sticks and leaves. Then, laying out her book in front of herself, she began to write the runes around herself which would allow her access to the right minds- even as wrong as it felt.
Her search began, seeking out the paths she needed to make it through to Ivar or  Björn- whichever she got to first. They both had that final connection, she was almost certain of it, and if  Björn didn’t for some reason then she was certain that Ivar would, and  Björn would have the connection to Ivar. They were the final pieces of the puzzle.
Being entirely alone meant that there was nothing to break her focus or her concentration, and that made the process all the quicker and more painless for those she had already been through. They would barely notice anything, aside from perhaps being reminded of what had happened the first time she passed through their minds. This being the first time she was connecting to either Ivar or  Björn, however, they would feel the full force of the spell, only to be relieved once she had finally reached her ultimate target. She just hoped they’d recover well enough.
When the spell finally reached Ivar, Freydís crawled her way into his mind just as she had with every other mind before his, and he cried out from shock at the sudden sight of her, and pain from the violence of the action. But that wasn’t the only shock- not by far. What shocked him beyond that was how grey her skin had become, the deep black around her glowing red eyes. Her teeth seemed almost like fangs as she cried out at the effort it must have taken to get into his mind. Not to mention how thin her fingers had become, looking more and more like ink dipped claws than anything else. What had happened to her? What had happened to his wife?
By the time she left, Ivar suddenly could see his surroundings again, and it was only then that he realised he had lost sight of anything but his own mind until then.  Björn was kneeling at his side, but it did little to soothe Ivar, who was shaking and suddenly very, very cold. 
“Was it Freydís ?”  Björn asked, and Ivar managed to look at him, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. But still, he managed a nod. “What did she do?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Ivar answered, trying now to sit up. “She came into my mind, and…” A chill ran through him. “She didn’t look like herself anymore.”
 Björn opened his mouth as if to answer Ivar, when suddenly he too cried out, and collapsed to the ground. His hands came to his head and he clutched at it, screaming from whatever pain he must have been in. If she was doing to him what she’d done to Ivar, then he knew the pain  Björn was in. Ivar grimaced a bit at the thought. 
Unfortunately, all he was able to do was wait for  Björn to come back. Or, rather, for Freydís to release him the spell she had captured his mind in. Whatever it was she wanted, she had needed them both to find it, and then apparently she had it as  Björn seemed to snap back into reality. He looked up at Ivar, eyes wide with horror. 
“You’ve seen her,” Ivar surmised, and  Björn nodded slowly.
“What has happened to her?” he questioned, barely getting the words out as he tried to shake off the pain.
Ivar swallowed, his eyes clouding with regret, along with many other things- one of which was grief. “That book,” he said. “I think she has gone too far into it, and it’s corrupting her beyond what we could have ever imagined.”
 Björn was quiet. Ivar could tell he was thinking hard, which he may once have teased him for, but now he couldn’t find the levity to do so. Eventually,  Björn asked him, “What do you think she was looking for?”
Well, Ivar certainly didn’t struggle to answer that. After everything they had been through, unless there was some sort of memory of Kattegat she sought, there was really only one thing that bound her and Ivar to  Björn. That facility which had raised them from the dead, where she and her husband had first met Doctor Schmidt and Professor Andersen; where they had first been reconciled with each other.
“The facility we were kept in,” he said to  Björn. “She wants a way in. My memories of jt aren’t quite enough, we have mostly the same memories, but yours… They trusted you more than they ever trusted us. My mind was just her link to you.”
“We should warn them,”  Björn said, staggering to his feet quickly as he now had a mission in mind, but Ivar shook his head.
“No, they deserve whatever she would do to them,” he decided. “I won’t save those who have caused us pain, not when they will cause that same pain to others.”
 Björn huffed in irritation. “Then what do you suggest we do?” he questioned sharply.
Ivar’s answer was simple, but first, he needed information from  Björn. “You do know the way in?” he asked.  Björn nodded. “Then we meet her there. Those people deserve whatever she would give them, but I cannot let her repeat my mistakes. I fear we would never get her back.”
He could tell  Björn was unsettled at the prospect- at all of it, really- but he could also see that  Björn was resigned to this. “We needed to get in anyway,” he figured. “May as well let her help us.”
May as well let her help us…
Ivar couldn’t help but wonder when his wife had become someone he and his brother, the legendary Ivar the Boneless and Björn Ironside, feared. What would they call her when history told their story? Their names were known already, but she had only once been Queen Freydís , defined by her marriage to him. The image of her eyes still burned in his mind, glowing red as she showed her power. No, she wouldn’t be Queen Freydís any longer. He thought something along the lines of Freydís the Scarlet was far more appropriate, now. He figured they’d see exactly why when they met her again.
Unfortunately, time would prove Ivar right. When Freydís arrived, she had the information she’d taken from  Björn’s mind floating around in her own. That meant it was easy enough for her to get in, but it could only get her so far. What she had was a map now, essentially, but she didn’t have anything near an already cleared path into the facility.
She made surprisingly quick work of detonating any firearms pointed at her, turning the blasts back on them once they’d been fired. It wasn’t long before witnesses stopped trying to fire on her, knowing what she would do, but she hadn’t gone to spare those working in that facility. Freydís had gone for blood. 
The hallways were flooded with red light as she fought through, alarms blaring in her ears to call out, ‘Invasion! Intruder! Danger!’ in their own high pitched, squealing ways, but Freydís didn’t stop. The warnings were about her, and were proven necessary when she wrapped magic around the throat of one of the guards, and used it to sever his head from his body with a single pop! The nearby guards gasped and cried out from shock as she then made his body turn on them, lifting his gun and firing a quick round. Their screams fell silent as she dropped him, and stepped over their corpses.
Her face now coated in a smattering of blood, Freydís stalked through the halls. The gunfire must have been significant enough a warning, because everything had gone still. No defenders rushed out to meet her, push her back and out. Anyone left had hidden, which meant she now had full access to the entire facility. Perfect.
Freydís stalked through the halls, searching each door for what she knew she needed. Any door that was locked to her, she simply decreed was not, and so every door was open to her. Eventually, she found what she had been looking for.
Doctor Schmidt was the first to face her. “Freydís,” she said. “Before you do anything rash…”
“Anything rash?” she repeated, laughing in the woman’s face. “Believe me, I am being perfectly reasonable.” Without waiting on an answer, Freydís reached out and took Doctor Schmidt by the throat, lifting her almost violently into the air.
She heard a familiar gasp of, “Freydís !” and turned to see Professor Andersen standing there, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at the two women before him. 
“Ah, hello,” she said with a cold chuckle. “I don’t suppose you can help me, can you? I’m looking for information, about those you have brought back from the dead like myself, like my husband, and  Björn Ironside. Do you have it?”
Professor Andersen opened his mouth to answer her, but Doctor Schmidt hissed out, “Give her nothing.”
Unfortunately for them, Freydís ’s mind worked quickly. She figured that Doctor Schmidt was willing to pay with her own life, if it meant keeping these secrets from her, but what about the life of another? Would she sacrifice Professor Andersen to the same end? She suddenly dropped Doctor Schmidt in favor of lifting Professor Andersen in the same fashion, deciding to find out.
“Do you still wish to give me nothing, Doctor?” Freydís asked, looking back to her. “Now Professor Andersen’s life is on the line, will you give him up to save your secrets?”
Doctor Schmidt swallowed, but her eyes hardened. “Kill him,” she said. “I won’t tell you anything.”
Freydís turned to look at Professor Andersen, whose wide eyes reflected the betrayal he felt at Doctor Schmidt’s words. “And would you give your life for her secrets?” she asked him. “Or do you want to give me the information I seek, and save yourself?”
Before he had the chance to answer, the most familiar voice yet yelled, “Freydís , put him down!” She turned to see Ivar and  Björn rushing in, horror written across their faces. Ah, so they had seen what she’d done to get this far. Oh well, she supposed that couldn’t be helped.
“Why should I?” she questioned. “You know what they did to us, to others like us. Why should I give them any mercy now?”
She watched Ivar swallow, noticed how  Björn kept an eye out, likely to be sure no one snuck up on them, and she tried to keep an eye out herself, as well. “Because you won’t ever come back from this,” Ivar told her. “I have always admired you for the path you never took. Don’t take it now.” Freydís turned back up to look at Professor Andersen, the fear he regarded her with, and even as a dark voice whispered in her ear to snap his neck, she remembered a night from over a thousand years before. She’d had this sort of fear when Ivar took her by the throat, when she had demanded to know what he’d done with Baldur.
Her magic weakened around him suddenly, and she let him drop to the ground. As soon as she did, she heard Doctor Schmidt scoff, “I knew you wouldn’t have it in you.”
“Did you?” Professor Andersen asked her, around each breath he managed to take through his choking. “Did you know? Or did you know there was a risk?”
“Of course I knew,” she said, but Freydís ’s eyes narrowed a bit. 
“You’re lying,” she accused. “You couldn’t have known. I did not know myself until I released him.”
Doctor Schmidt huffed, as if irritated with all this. “Alright,” she said. “I knew there was a risk. But it was a necessary risk.”
Professor Andersen shook his head a little. “I wouldn’t have taken that risk,” he confessed. “Even though you told me not to tell her anything, I still would have done it if it would have kept her from killing you.” He took a deep breath, then stood to his feet as he looked to  Björn, Ivar, and Freydís in turn. “But I won’t let my loyalty stay in the wrong place,” he told them. “I’ll give you everything you need.”
Freydís was stunned, but she wasn’t about to question his sudden change in heart. “You’ve made the right decision,” she said, and when he nodded, she saw no hesitation in his eyes. She felt no lie in his heart, when she looked, and she nodded in return.
They left Doctor Schmidt behind- Freydís ,  Björn, Ivar, and Professor Andersen- to go down the hall to what seemed to be an archive of sorts. There, Freydís watched as their guide went into a drawer to pull out a thumbdrive, which he then plugged into one of the computers. She kept an eye on everything he did to be sure all he downloaded to it was the information they needed, no trackers or anything of the sort. Fortunately, it seemed he did exactly as he was meant to, and was soon handing the thumbdrive over to her.
“It doesn’t have any sort of lock on it so you won’t end up without access,” he said, “but that does mean you need to be careful not to-”
“Not to lose it,” she finished for him, and nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”
Professor Andersen nodded in return as he released the thumbdrive, which Freydís pocketed and stepped back. “Good luck.”
“You too,” Freydís said. She didn’t imagine there was any version of this where Doctor Schmidt didn’t retaliate against him for what he’d done, and it was for that reason that she really appreciated his assistance. Doctor Schmidt had expected him to die for their research just as she had been prepared to, but he made a different call. He’d turned the tide in their favor in that moment.
With little else to say, Freydís turned back to  Björn and Ivar, and the two looked to her for their next step. Seeing they were ready to go, she turned and put out her hands, magic flowing out from them and pouring into a sort of cloud that hovered before them. She stepped through, expecting for them to follow. As soon as they were, she closed the portal to shut the facility behind them. They would soon reach the end of their efforts now, and it would only be a matter of time.
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ritual-unions · 7 months
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Gatekeeper
Pairing: Ubbe x OFC
Warnings: NSFW, explicit
Word count: 4k
Setting: season 6ish, Kattegat
Summary: Ubbe is forced to punish his Sami consort when she mistakenly reveals the secret entrance into Kattegat to the enemy.
Also known as sex-on-a-throne cause I can.
Notes: I had to let this live somewhere other than Ao3, enjoy. This was all the fault of the follow gif, my mind went straight to the gutter.
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He did not want to do it like this. To pass judgment on her in front of so many people. Now he was being forced to address the situation immediately when he would have preferred to do it in the privacy of their room.
Hvitserk was mostly to blame for it.
His brother should have known better than to bring her before him so publicly, but Hvitserk had never known patience. Especially not when the drums of battle were so close at hand.
There were few people in the great hall. Warriors made their reports while thralls and maids scurried back and forth from the kitchen as they tried to keep bellies full and fires stoked. Laughter rippled through the hall when a thrall tripped a clay cup clattering to the floor. In a corner, where a group of men lounged, an arm wrestling match was in the works. Anything to distract from the crusade that waited outside the gates. They were searching for someone bold enough to test their beefy-armed contender. Goading a man into joining as he walked passed.
Ubbe sat on top of the throne, listening, watching, waiting until the time for action came. Leaning back, he mulled over the different outcomes of the battle as he shifted on the throne’s hard seat, having already lost and won a thousand battles by the time the sun had set. Soon it would be time to retire for the night. He longed to ease against the feather pillows that littered his bed, in the hopes it would relieve his aching back, though he did not imagine sleep would come easy for him.
As they came through the doors he caught sight of her hair first. A glowing white that cast an aura around her wherever she went. Even on the darkest winter days he could find her. He sat up a little straighter. Grimaced at her disheveled state.
They had bound her hands, which Ubbe deemed an unnecessary gesture. She was no shieldmaiden, as she could hardly hold a fishing spear without maiming herself or others. Yet, the purple bruise forming on the corner of Hvitserk’s lip and the angry red scratches across his cheek showed she had not gone without a fight.
Her defiance had seemingly sparked a deep-seated habit out of Hvitserk that Ubbe typically witnessed on the battlefield. Berserkr. That wild glint in his eye and the bemused smile on his lips all signaled Hvitserk’s insensible state as he dragged her before Ubbe.
A heavy sigh pushed out of Ubbe’s nose when she ripped her arm out of Hvitserk’s grip and turned on her heel to snarl at him. Laughter bubbled out of his brother’s throat while he reached for her again. Fingers digging into her arms he spun her to face Ubbe effortlessly. Amusement tickled Hvitserk’s mouth when she struggled against his excessive force.
He didn’t know whose name to call out. Both wore the matching look of a petulant child.
“Ver.”
Her name was thick on his tongue. The nickname was reserved for the quiet moments hidden away under the covers of the bed. She sneered at him, and turned her ire to Hvitserk instead.
“Let go of me,” hissed Verdandi over her shoulder, “you oaf!”
She shook as she all but growled. Attempting to thrash her weight back against him, hoping to throw him off balance. All to his brother’s amusement. Cracking laughter shot out of Hvitserk’s throat. He was enjoying her struggle a little too much. Quick as a viper he pulled her in closer, just to annoy her that much more. His arm wrapped around her chest holding her flush against him. A grin curled on Hvitserk’s mouth as their cheeks touched.
“Hvitserk,” Ubbe called out his name in a low warning.
He did not need this situation any more heightened than it already was. Bright green eyes briefly met him. No longer were they irritated by the incursion of drugs and alcohol. These days, Hvitserk wore the blessing of the gods that often moved him into a different kind of altered state. Ubbe had yet to understand the change.
“Release her,” he commanded, running a hand along his face.
He would never hear the end of this.
A smile tickled the corner of Hvitserk’s mouth. Of course he was laughing silently at him. Ubbe would have his hands full with her. With a brief bow of his head, he snapped the ties with a swipe of his knife. He stepped back in a hurry as if he was trying to get away from the wildling before she attacked.
Deliberately she assessed the red welts where the ties had rubbed her skin raw. Rubbing her wrists tenderly before lifting her gaze to Ubbe. “I did nothing wrong,” she said evenly as if there was nothing more to be discussed.
Teeth clenched, he shook his head. He was well in his right to be upset with her. He had warned her not to go the night before. Telling her that if she did not listen he would not be held responsible for the results of her behavior.
“You disobeyed me, Verdandi.”
“He is my brother.”
It was a plea to reason, especially when her eyes darted to Hvitserk. What would you do for this brother, she silently demanded.
He licked his lips. Anything. For Hvitserk. Bjorn. Even Sigurd, long passed. Ivar, however, was a different matter.
“What did he say?”
A shake of her head, so small he might not have seen it if he had not known her every mannerism by heart. Her eyes were cast to the ground. It seemed her older brother had not changed.
“Torfinn will not see reason.”
His mouth twitched in agitation. Negotiations had long since passed. Torfinn craved violence. As volatile as Ivar, he would not listen to his sniveling younger sister when she begged him to go home.
“He said he will burn down the hall.” She scowled at the thought of her brother. “With you in it.”
“Yes,” he sneered.
No doubt Torfinn believed such claims. He, however, believed in his own preparations. He trusted the walls Lagertha had raised and Ivar had strengthened. Most of all, he relied on his warriors and shieldmaidens whose love for Kattegat ran as deep as his family’s roots.
“He followed her.” Torvi announced, half hidden by a pillar. She had slipped through the doors quietly enough that he hadn’t noticed her presence until she spoke. “He followed her right to The Tree.”
The willow tree that marked the hidden entrance through the city’s walls.
He licked his lips to keep himself from lashing out. She had put them all in danger with her secret sleuthing. It had not truly mattered that she hadn’t listened to him when he had warned her not to go to her brother. He had forbidden her to go because he did not want to witness her pain afterward when she realized her attempt at discourse was a fool’s errand. In hindsight, he should have let her go to Torfinn with armed guards or an escort.
He could not worry about what he should have done. He had to focus on the now. How to fix the problem at hand. And how to properly deal with her folly. This was no longer just about him. It involved all of Kattegat, and he would have to act accordingly.
He found Hvitserk’s gaze for confirmation. A slight nod of his brother’s head was all he needed. He gritted his teeth as he considered his next action.
Torvi was quick to the draw. She whipped across the room and shoved at Verdandi’s back, causing her to stumble. A childish gesture. His gritted teeth pulled into a snarl, fingers curling around the armrest.
A few of the onlookers gasped, but the other half appeared pleased. They had not collectively accepted her presence, especially now that her brother threatened their livelihoods.
“On your knees.” He could barely hear Torvi above the rising murmuring of the crowd. She had pushed Verdandi off-center to the ground, but Verdandi did not fight her. She lowered her head at Torvi’s next words instead. “Don’t you know where your place is?”
An onlooker spit, his cud barely missing Verdandi’s feet. “Sami scum,” the man cursed.
Ubbe blew out the heat of his anger through his nose. It was growing more difficult with each moment that passed to stay impartial.
“Torvi.”
He said her name once, low, the only warning she would get. She was his sister by marriage, queen when his brother sat the throne. He would not let her have her say now, not today. He would not allow her to treat the people he had promised to protect so cruelly. Verdandi had lived in Kattegat with the Sami longer than she had and was deserving of a proper trial.
“Take men to secure the area.” Ubbe nodded to Hvitserk, ignoring the insolent townsman who sneered at Verdandi.
“Leave,” he added, looking at Torvi who seemed to be contemplating further provocation. Annoyance passed over her features, but she said nothing as she left the hall. The heels of her shoes against the wooden floorboards formed the only sound in the sudden silence. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone.”
The silence deepened further.
He sat back in his seat. The corners of his nose twitched when no one moved. He raised his chin to assess the crowd. If anyone had anything to say against his order, let them say it now.
A slight shifting stirred the crowd when no one protested and slowly they removed themselves from the hall. Even the guards and thralls had left.
They were alone.
“Ubbe,” she breathed in a sigh of relief, shifting back on her heels to stand.
“No.” He pointed to the ground, back to her position. “You will stay.”
He was bitter. She had disobeyed him. Openly. For all to see.
He had asked her not to go. And then there had been that damn glint in her eyes, that same one that sparked in his brothers any time he tried to lead their hand. After they had supper, he had told her not to go.
No, he had commanded it. As king.
Pseudo king, she had shrugged her shoulders in indifference. Bjorn had been gone for over a year, sailing across oceans only the gods knew the names to. There was no promise he would return.
He would have chained her to the bedpost had he not been certain she would howl like a banshee the entire night.
“I had no choice.”
He grimaced, shaking his head. Every free man and woman had a choice. He sat on this throne for his brother, not because he had to but because he had chosen to. He could be sailing to this Iceland Floki spoke of, or to grander places yet uncovered, but he had chosen to put Kattegat’s needs above his own. He would suffer the results of his decision.
She had chosen to disobey him.
Nodding at her, he asked, “what will your punishment be?” He rolled his eyes as her mouth snapped open, attempting to talk back and say something coy that would only further annoy him. Now was not her moment to speak. “You put the lives of others at risk with your choices. They are my responsibility.” Pointing at her, he finished a little more sternly. “You won’t leave this hall until we agree on a suitable punishment.”
A scowl furrowed her brows while her lips pouted in obvious protest. It stirred him, just slightly so that he was forced to adjust his seat.
Her brow raised in his direction, looking at him the same way she had a hundred nights before. The same look with which she had pleaded for his forgiveness the time they had escaped the drudges of Kattegat for the hunting cabin, high up on the mountains. She had scared away every animal he had attempted to hunt with her incessant singing. Songs that reminded him of his childhood and made him think of his future had alerted any deer or turkey in the surrounding area of their presence. That night they ate a sad collection of wild vegetables he had found on the long walk back to the cabin and by luck a small hare, whose den he had accidentally stumbled across. She had come to him, eyes soft and pleading, begging for forgiveness. Naked and wet and willing to do anything to gain his absolution. She had whispered praise in his ear while the hearthfire crackled beyond her and the wind howled with an oncoming storm. Even now, as he thought back to it, he could still feel the heat on his thighs as she lowered herself down on him. His nostrils still filled with the smell of rain as it seeped into the earth and through the cracks in the walls of the old cabin.
The look on her face was smug. She always got what she wanted. A smile curled onto his lips at the thought. They could come to an agreement, one made between lovers, but not until she suffered first.
She moved to stand.
He grunted, flicking his chin. Crawl, he mouthed, pointing to the space before him.
She frowned but sank back to the ground, crawling to him until she was snug between his legs. Eyes searching, she waited for his next command.
He might have left her there, situated perfectly between his legs, begging for him to make the next move.
Fingers strumming across the armrest, he settled at the sight before him. He had never possessed restraint when it came to his desire for her. Stretching out, he rolled his hips towards her. Lashes fluttering, she took in his growing bulge before her eyes traveled up to meet his gaze. He almost came undone then. His mouth twitched as he tried to control his baser instincts, fighting against the urge to grab the back of her neck and bury her face in his crotch.
Timidly she reached out and let her hands run along his thighs. She kept her gaze trained on his, waiting for him to stop her. To call it all off. Undoubtedly she thought that the people of Kattegat could demand entrance back into the great hall to see how their king punished a Sami traitor.
He knew the townspeople had all gone home. Home to protect their families and the houses they had built from the ground up, kept now for generations. Home to ready their defenses against a possible attack. Now was the time to kiss their loved ones. Tomorrow, if they survived, would be a moment to question what had happened to the traitor.
For a moment he would let fear move her toward him, until she too knew what it meant to make sacrifices that were beyond basic wants.
He said nothing, watching as her fingers fumbled over the laces of his pants. Tugging the strings loose, his cock sprung free.
She gripped him around the base in a practiced motion, sliding along the length. He groaned, letting his head roll back slightly.
Warm lips replaced her grasp on him. She swallowed him whole, lips soft around the root. Hot breath through her nose stirred the pubic hairs at his base. Patiently she tried to find her threshold until she gagged. He smoothed a hand down the crown of her head. Slowly she moved back to the tip, licking and slurping all the way up.
His fingers curled tight in her hair as she lowered herself again, this time going a little deeper. Her gaze caught on him. She smiled around his cock when she added a hand, lightly tugging on his balls.
“You’re going to be,” his teeth clenched as he worked his jaw, “the death of me,” he murmured as he pressed her head back down.
Verdandi hummed happily, thrumming a vibration that tightened his core. He let her stay between his legs for a moment longer, catching his breath as he grew used to the sensation and set her pace for her.
“You’d like that?” Threading his thumb around her ear down to her chin, he tilted her head back. She smiled lazily, lips swollen and red, and nodded. His eyes fluttered closed briefly and then he tugged on her elbow, pulling her up decisively. “Not until I make you scream.”
Lifting up her skirts, she straddled his lap. Her nipples were hard beneath her bodice. Ubbe wanted to see her, feel her fully. He found the laces at the back of her dress, ripping at them until he was able to pull the fabric down her shoulders.
Wiggling out the sleeves of her dress, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her hips rolled on top of his, letting him brush against her dripping folds. His fingers dug into her fleshy sides while he urged her to settle on top of him. Rolling his eyes, he let out a huff of breath as she ground deeper against him and let her weight tease him instead.
His hands slipped between her thighs, coaxing her forward with a passing swipe. She faltered at the sensation and he took the moment to grab the base of his cock, aligning himself to her entrance.
She eased herself down slowly, taking her time. He grunted in frustration. The only punishment occuring was the slow wait to fully engorge. He pushed away the bulk of her skirts, wanting to witness Ver as she stretched across him. Kneading the inside of her thigh, he encouraged her down further.
Her breathing hitched and she leaned forward. Resting against her head against his, she adjusted. He growled, no longer able to wait. He gripped her hips tight and rolled his pelvis upward, watching as she gasped and then bit down on her lip to stop her shuddering breath.
He reached out as she gradually took up the pace, brushing against the lines of her collarbone and then across her sternum. The weight of her breast in his hand was comforting enough to make Ubbe forget his duty, lost in the depth of her body, focusing on nothing other than the way she rode him and swayed into his touch. His fingers brushed across the surface of her nipple. He relished how her lips parted in a soft sigh. He pinched and tugged, watching each twitch and tremor of her mouth as he played with her.
Ver had found her rhythm despite his distracting touch. Slow and steady she rocked her hips against his. Gritting his teeth, he buried his head in her shoulder.
She pushed away her skirts so that she was able to find her clit. Ubbe grunted, replacing her hand with his own. He would be the one who dished out her pleasure.
She tightened around him as he brushed the swollen nub with his thumb. She moaned, a pathetic mewling sound. The first sign of her impending release, but he would hold it all in the palm of his hand. He would give and take as he saw fit. The same way she had seen fit to disobey his orders. Ubbe would watch her tremble under his touch. Her orgasm would be his own. He would make sure of that.
Gasping, she buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, breathing out the heat of her pleasure.
His free hand smoothed across the expanse of her thigh and curved around her ass. He brought her in closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, needing to feel her body flush against his. Her pace was faltering with each ruthless slide across her clit, but he held her steady. Flicking up his hips, taking control, he would have her whimpering by the time he was done with her.
She clawed at his shirt, mewling softly in his ear. “Please,” she begged him.
He grunted. He shouldn’t let her beg and take away the one thing he could control. Yet she pressed closer against his chest. Ubbe grimaced at the way her folds hugged him and claimed him deeper inside her. He had no control when it came to her.
He teased her a bit more, easing his touch until it was light as a feather.
“Ubbe,” she sobbed, breath hot against his ear. “Please.”
It was mostly silent in the throne room, aside from the sound of the crackling hearth fires and the occasional clatter from the kitchen far off. The heat of their bodies poured out into each other. They huffed hot breaths against the other’s skin, careful not to draw any extra attention from the thralls that were certainly standing with their ears to the door or a stray resident curious to see how their king punished the Sami stranger.
His finger curled up her neck, carding through her hair. He tugged until her neck stretched and he could look her in the eyes, locking her there as he drank her in. She was tantalizing. A sheen of sweat radiated the roundness of her cheeks, while the fires in the sconces cast a glow around her head that was otherworldly. The well-built defensive she often kept hard in her eyes slipped to a look so salacious he could not look away. She was meant to sit on a throne, next to him.
He would have fucked her on that seat every day until he was sure she was satiated.
He dug his fingers deeper into her fleshy bottom, bringing her closer, deeper than before.
“Please.” She nipped at his lips and drew him back to the room. “My king.”
He laughed under his breath, head rolling back against the headboard of the throne. His mouth quirked into a smile. Flicking his hips into her, he keenly touched her clit until she was gasping and clutching onto his shirt. A fierce blush crept up her chest and neck. Shamelessly he watched each shuttering breath out of her parted lips, enjoying her undoing by his hand.
Her folds tightened around him. A fluttering pulse. His fingers wrapped around her neck. Her skin was hot and clammy under his touch. Her long thick hair curled wildly around his hold. He kept her tight in her place as he held off, waiting until he saw that peak glimmer across her features. One last thrust. He pulled on her hair, wanting to see her face as she rode the waves of her orgasm. A shuttering jolt of his hips answered her. He locked her flush against him as his hot seed spurted into her womb.
Panting, he caught his breath then found her mouth, kissing her hard. He relished the taste of her and how she nuzzled her cheek against his. Untangling his hand from her hair, he ran it across the back of her head. He pulled her in until she was nestled into the corner of his neck, as if she had always belonged here, safely tucked away in this warm spot. Her lips pressed a smiling kiss against his neck and then to his cheek. She stole another quick kiss against his lips before rolling off his softening length.
He adjusted himself back into his trousers, watching languidly as she pulled the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders. He stood and helped her tighten the ties of her dress along her back. It was a slow process, as his earlier urgency had pulled some loose from their fastenings. Pressing his lips against the curve of her neck, he murmured that he would see her some time later that night.
“Where are you going?” She demanded.
“To see what damage you have done,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped down the dais. He turned to drink her in, a vision standing amongst the matching thrones. He smiled, adding on, “to see if your punishment was sufficient.”
Ubbe laughed under his breath at her scoff. “We will find out in the morning if I have to bend you over my knee next time.”
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