#ivar x christian!oc

[the-girl-in-the-box]

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.

Masterlist

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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.”

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#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x original female character #ivar x christian!oc #ivar's heathen army #alex hogh andersen #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter forty-two

[aissa-snapped]

The Heathen and the Christian

Ivar the boneless x reader ( OC)

Word count: 3401

SUMMARY:When a young anglo-saxon meets Ivar in the woods, she thinks he is a nice innocent boy, only to be shocked when she finds out who he REALLY is and what he is capable of.

A/N:This is my 2nd time writing with Vikings. I hope yall like it. I am also apologizing for (possible) mistranslations of irish and icelandic. I might do a part two to this series cuz i like how its going. Also not readproof

1-Oh Cernunnos god of the forest bless me and guide me.

2- WAIT

3-That one is mine

4- Do that again and you`re dead

Wandering the woods at this time of the year, gave any passer-by a spectacular and magical scenery. The rays of sunshine were breaking through the branches, illuminating the forest in the most wonderful ways. Summer was without a doubt the best time of the year. The weather was finally favorable for farmers, crops were flourishing and nature was thriving. But there was a downside to it. This season naturally brought along raiding parties coming from the north, with the intention of pillaging and eradicating every village in sight of any gold or treasure.

Villagers were adivsed to be extremely wary of their surroundings, and in case of any suspicious sighting to report to the guards.

Walking out of the small one-room cottage, Frigyth took her woven basket, hanging it on her left arm and took steady steps towards the neighboring woods that surrounded her village. She was a young maiden, '' ready to be married'' according to her parents, who took her tasks very lightly. She came from a typical peasant family, with three other sisters and one brother. She was at that age where she cared more about enjoying life than actually being helpful around the house.

She begged her mother days in a row to let her go harvest some berries from the woods, seeing as that was her only opportunity to explore nature and relax a tad bit. She took her already forming path that led her into a meadow, hidden from view by some on-growing bushes. She found a larger boulder, and took a seat in a dent, placing her basket next to her. She had plenty of time to finish her task, she thought, so for now she could enjoy a little bit of warmth.

Clasping her hands in a prayer-way, she took a glance around her, making sure she was alone, and started chanting an old prayer she used to hear as a child from her grandmother.

Ó Cernunnos Dia na foraoise

beannaigh dom agus treoraigh

mé tríd an bhforaois...

From a small distance, the prayer spoken by the girl was heard by a trespasser, that was lurking around in the woods seeking some alone time. Instead, the stranger took a detour and followed the voice, leading him into the hidden meadow. upon his arrival, he analyzed the young lady up closely, noticing how she had her eyes closed, and was in a vulnerable state. It would`ve been very easy for the young Viking leader to take his dagger out and kill her on the spot, which was what he should be doing, otherwise he risked getting noticed by the saxon girl, who in return would alert the whole village of the presence of Vikings.

Or perhaps he could kidnap her, get any valuable information out of her and THEN kill her. That seemed like a better idea.

The warrior got lost in his thoughts for a few moments that only when he heard the girl gasp did he snap back to the current situation he was in. The young woman that was not so long ago sat in a peaceful position was now standing up, grabbing her basket in front of her, as if she thought it would protect her from the unknown boy. You did not need to be a schooled noble to notice that the stranger`s attire was different from the regular anglo-saxon clothing, and the weapons well secured around the belt hugging his waist were a big tell-tale sign that she had just ran face to face with a Viking.

Frigyth was not sure what she could possibly do to escape this situation. If she ran, would she meet other Vikings? Or perhaps if she yelled for help, the barbarians would much faster come in to the aid of the mysterious boy and do her in. Her mind along with her heart were racing, blood pulsing through her whole body, as if it was preparing for whatever would happen next. Feeling a giddy feeling in her stomach, she spotted her way out, then she got into a running position, one leg in front of the other, slightly leaning on it and being ready to sprint at any given time.

The Viking however, seemed too lost in his tracks to think of what he should do to her. He was observing her. Long, curly hair, with a vibrant color that glimmered in the sun. He felt sort of... entranced by her?

Before he let her go, he wolf whistled at her, gaining her attention. '' I am Ivar.'' He spoke in a very thick anglo-saxon accent. Frigyth did a double-take, not being sure she actually heard him speaking in HER language. While on the outside she remained frozen, her mind was filled with multiple questions. Probably because she has never heard foreigners speak her language- or because she has never faced a norman before.

'' What is your name?'' Asked the Viking in an iritated tone. The young girl was not sure it was a good idea to tell divulge her full identity. But realizing she had no other choice, she defeteadly answered.

'' Frigyth.'' It was a simple and short answer, for which she hoped it would suffice. But by the looks on the warrior, he smirked slowly at her, watching with predator eyes as she was shifting uncomfortably her weight from one foot to the other.

'' What was that prayer you were saying earlier? It did not sound like your language.'' The maiden`s heart started beating at an alarming rate. Deep down she knew, that the prayer she was chanting earlier was considered heresy and it was forbidden among the christians. But it`s not like him, a Viking, would go and tell on her to a guard. After all, weren`t they pagans as well?

'' It`s an ancient language. I was praying to Cernunnos, the god of the forest, fertility. I- It`s forbidden to pray to any other god other than the One True God. But my grandmother used to tell me that the old Gods never left and are ever present.'' She finished, admitting what has been laying in her heart for many years, sighing in happiness when she mentioned her grandmother.

To say Ivar was shocked at the newfound information was an understatement. In all his life, he had never encountered a christian praying to a different deity. He was getting more and more intrigued by the girl, and the logical part of his brain that was constantly nudging him to kill her was shutting down completely.

The young leader-who had previously found a good sitting spot on the grass- nudged his head towards the empty place next to him, indicating to her to take a seat. With careful, calculated steps, she approached him, leaving a few centimetres between them, just in case he was going to strangle her, or who knows what else.

'' So... tell me...'' He trailed off, in hopes that the girl would tell him something about herself.

With frowning brows, she kept silent, waiting for him to continue with a question. Ivar rolled his eyes, and asked her about her family.

'' We`re but a family humble peasants .'' The Viking could tell she loved cutting straight to the chase, not giving out any other detail unless asked.

Gaining all the courage she could muster, she turned slightly towards him, asking the dreaded question.

'' Where did you come from?''

Raising his eyebrows, Ivar chuckled darkly, shaking his head softly.

'' I don`t think you want to know.'' He admitted cynically.

'' Will that get me in trouble?'' She asked shyly.

'' You could say that.'' Smiling softly, Frigyth directioned her eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the burning stares of the curious Viking whose hand was slowly reaching up to her face, pausing for a second and taking a hold of a piece of her hair, and twirling it around his finger -almost lovingly so- which made her flinch for a second, before relaxing back and letting him play with strands of her hair.

The atmosphere between the two was peaceful, even though there was silence, but it was a welcoming one, in which neither felt the need to interrupt it. It was as if an unspoken rule was set. Both simply wanted to sit down and get lost between the thousands of trees and take a break from their societal obligations. Ivar leaned back on his elbows, straightening his legs in front of him, to give them a stretch, which gave the girl a full view of his crippled legs. She widened her eyes in surprise, but quickly gained her composure when she noticed Ivar clenching his jaw in anger, averting her eyes elsewhere.

It felt like they were there for an hour or two, when Frigyth sighed sadly and stood up, clenching the handle of the backet in her left fist and started taking small steps towards the hidden entrance marked by two bushes with a beaten track in between them. Ivar frowned, his eyes following her figure sharply, similar to a wolf following his prey.

'' I should go.'' Looking at her feet, she was swinging the basket slowly in her hand, as if waiting for the boy to stop her from going, although, deep down, she knew she was running behind with her tasks and she was bound to return home eventually, and her mother would not be happy if she came back empty handed.

Ivar nodded stoically, breaking his eyes from the girl and with a loud groan, he rolled onto his back, and began crawling towards the girl, ignoring her stares of bewilderment at his methods of traveling.

'' I should probably go too.'' He responded and begudgingly so.

'' It was nice meeting you.'' Frigyth complimented, with a small voice.

'' We will meet again, christian.'' He winked at her, which caused the maiden to let out a nervous laugh, having no idea what he could have possibly meant by that, and on that note, they both departed their own ways.

Upon her arrival back home, she was welcome by her worried mother, who seemed to have a look of concern mixed with irritation displaying across her face.

'' Where have you been?! It`s almost dark outside. And what is this? This is all you gathered in all this time you were gone?!'' She pointed at her basket, which was barely filled with any berries.

Frigyth shrugged off the hand her mother had placed on her shoulder, sprinting inside the cottage. The one-room hut was warm and all her family was gathered round at the table, chatting lively amongst eachother. Her presence was sensed by her father, and one by one her siblings all paused mid-conversation, to look at the newcomer. Her father smiled warmly at her, motioning with his hand to take a seat next to him.

'' We were wondering when you would come back Frig. Your mother was worrying terribly.'' He laughed, patting her back twice.

'' And I had all the reasons to. You know what they tell us, the priests. The woods are no longer safe.'' Her mother huffed angrily, stepping into the cottage and slamming the door shut, checking the small window incorporated in it for any intruders that might be lurking outside their homes. She took her seat, next to her husband and continued eating her freshly cooked pottage.

Frigyth`s father let out a breath of air, rubbing his face with his face. The rebel daughter rolled her eyes, pretending to be oblivious to what her mother was saying. Should she tell anyone that today she has met and spoken to a possible Viking? If she did, then she would reveal to everyone that she had been slacking rather than actually gathering food for the family, and she risked losing the task she was given, and probably forced to return to her old duties, which were mostly around the cottage. So she took the smarted option, and never mentioned the encounter with the stranger.

'' I know. Aelflead and the other blacksmiths think that we are to prepare for an attack.'' The father confessed sadly.

'' What makes you think that, dad?'' The youngest sibling asked, with her curious natured eyes.

'' Because sweetie, we have been ordered by the king to forge as many swords and shields as fast as we can manage. But when we tried asking the guards why, he refused to tell us. They were all acting suspicious.'' He shrugged, ripping a piece of the wholemeal bread and dipping it in the stew.

Frigyth was starting to get nervous. What if they are about to be attacked? But again, Ivar did not look dangerous. Evenmore, he was crippled. Surely that meant he was maybe thrown out of his tribe and forced to die alone. And even if she decided to tell her family about her encounter, in what way would that help them escape the fury of a Viking raid?

The contact she had with the mysterious boy was what kept her awake most of the night, and by the time her body was exhausted and allowed her to fall asleep, the rooster was already crowing, alerting the family that it was dawn and that meant time to go back to work. However, something felt odd. While Frigyth`s family members were grumbingly getting out of bed, the young maiden heard screams and clanks of swords outside. When realization hit her, she alerted her family to be silent for a second in order for them to pay attention to what might have been going outside.

''Haeddi, take the girls and hide in the barn. Wilfred and I are going outside to see what is happening.'' The father instructed his wife. ''Here, grab this.'' He threw a newly forged seax to his son, and he took an old rusty looking blade for himself, gesturing with his head towards the door. '' Let`s go.'' With one solemn look, Frigyth`s father glanced at his girls, holding a strong and loving eye contact with his wife, silently reassuring her that everything was going to be all right.

When the girls were left alone, Haeddi looked at her daughters, trying to contain the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. '' We`re going outside. Stick close to each other. Once we reach the barn, find a hiding spot. Underneath the hay, behind it. I don`t` know. But do it as fast as you can. We don`t know what awaits us out there.'' The four girls looked at her mother, nodding shakily and following closely behind her towards the door. The mother was counting with her fingers how many seconds they had left before she would open the door and the chaos would start. Frigyth could hear the faint screams of terror coming from the villagers and once the door was open and they started running, everything went in slow motion. The action outside became more vivid. The shrieks and cries of pain were amplified and all of those made the girls run faster than they had ever done so in their entire lives.

Once they safely reached the barn, her mother grabbed the youngest offspring and she chucked them both behind some haystacks. The other two sisters went off climbing on a ladder and finding a safe space to bury in.

Frigyth was looking around, trying to find the first hidin place and duck under it, but to her terror, she was forcefully grabbed by her arm by a very muscular man, that looked like he could eat her alive. She gulped, eyes wide open and heart drumming against her chest, almost as if it was ready to jump out of her chest. He gave her an animalistic smile, that sent shivers down to her spine. Her sisters and mom were watching terrified from the hiding spots how poor Frigyth was going to get killed...or worse.

With an unmatchable force, he turned her around with her back facing him, and raising his axe and readied himself to cut her thin linen dress open, ignoring her pleas and screams to stop, but a powerful voice made him pause mid-action.

''BÍÐA!'' Both the cruel man and Frigyth turned their heads to look at whoever just stopped the brutal Viking. The girl couln`t believe her eyes. Sitting in a single seated strange looking carriage pulled by a beautiful white stallion, sat the very guy that around this time the other day she was enjoying her time with in the meadow.

''ÞESSI ER MINN!!'' Ivar approached the enormous barbarian and pulled him away from his victim by his hair, holding his dagger against his throat.

''Gerðu þetta aftur og þú ert dauður!!'' He spat with venom, letting go of him. When he looked at the shaken lady, he softened his eyes, offering a friendly hand for her to take. She shakily shook her head no, losing any trust she had in him.

Seeing how reluctant she was, Ivar huffed annoyed. '' If you come with me, you`ll be safe.'' He promised. She glanced back at her mother and sisters-who were terrifyingly and confusingly observing the interaction between the two-, looking back and forth between them and him. He instantly put two and two together, and rolled his eyes playfully. '' They will not be harmed IF... you come with me.''

But before she had any chance to speak, her father and brother came rushing to her aid. Wilfred, her brother, seemed unharmed, except for a few cuts here and there and some blood staining his blade, but her father seemed to have a pretty deep cut on his side, that was bleeding alarmingly.

'' STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!'' Her father yelled, pointing his old and chipped sword at the Viking.

Ivar mockingly raised both his arms in surrender, faking a terrified expression. After a few moments, he then grabbed his trusty dagger, swirling it smoothly around his finger and pointing behind him at the army that was currently ravaging the village.

''See that? I am the leader of all of them. I can order them to stop anytime if I want to. That is why I am asking YOU again.'' He pointed his dagger in Frigyth`s direction. '' Are.You.Coming.With.Me?'' He asked slowly, putting an emphasis on each word, to ensure he was being understood.

The curly haired girl looked with saddening eyes at her dad, who was still clutching his sword with all his being, as if believing THAT could actually help her, then at her brother, who was copying his father`s movements, but with less confidence and then at her mother and sisters, who were all shaking their heads no and crying silently, not knowing what the outcome of this woul be.

There was no backing out of this. She had two simple but impactful choices. She either went with him, probably ending up a slave, but at least her family was safe, or so she hoped. Or she could refuse, and get killed by the previous Viking.

With determined steps, she approached Ivar, making him smirk in victory. Her father yelled at her angrily to get back there behind him, but she was already climbing Ivar`s carriage. The young ruler grabbed her hand softly, guiding her to sit on his knees, that she now got to observe, were covered in some sort of metallic braces.

Once she took her seat in his lap, he stroked her hair with one hand, while whispering in her ear. ''Good girl.'' She sat frozen in his lap, letting him wrap a strong arm around her waist to keep her steady.

She took a one last glance at her family, waving sadly at them and struggling to keep her composure.

'' They will be safe, right?! You promised!'' She asked desperately, glacing back at her house, which was now growing to be more and more far away.

'' On my arm ring.'' He pledged, placing his palm over his bracelet for a moment, showing her that he was serious about his oath. Grabbing with one arm the reins and with the other gripping her tightly against him, he yelled something in Old-Norse to the other men, fleeing the village afterwards towards an unknown location to the girl, from where a new life was about to start for her. She could only hope it was going to be good.

#vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x oc #fluff #possessive #dark ages

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unholy Matrimony: a Sham in Four Acts

Prompt: “I’ve learnt to love you.”

Summary: You (the older sister of Alfred and Aethelred) are unfortunately in York when the northmen attack. When they find out who you are, the Lothbroks decide that one of them must marry you to claim the land. Disclaimer: this is 2nd Person POV but your name is Aethelind (so a bit OC)

Cursive means either norse or thoughts (but that’s pretty simple if you take the context into account)

Part 2

Act I: Mercy

The terrified messenger had come too late to warn you. He had stumbled into York mere hours before the pagans arrived, asking you to flee to the marshes. Of course, you didn’t know that then. You had been sent to York to learn more about your Faith. Your father, Aethelwulf, had been disgusted at the shallow friendship you had formed with Ivar.

 Ecbert and Judith had suggested to marry you to Ivar to finally make peace with the pagans, which had sent your father into a rage. Instead, he sent you away to York so that you would remain pure.

 If you weren’t so terrified, you’d laugh at the irony of it all. With Aethelred gone, there was no one to protect you, and with Alfred gone, there was no one for you to protect.

 Father Matthew had ordered all the gates closed and asked the bishop to hold a mass so that all Saxons could be on their way with the Lord’s blessings. You knelt at the front, next to a motherly nun when the doors burst open, and the heathens stormed inside.

 Screams filled the church as the slaughter begun and the nun pulled you away. You almost stumbled over a man that must’ve fainted at the sight of these demons, but as you saw the knife in his belt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

 Instead, you took the meagre protection and prayed that the rumors around Aelle’s death were not true. The few guards that were still alive and fighting quickly diminished in numbers, but two of them left their group to protect you, and together with the nun, they ushered you behind the altar and into a dark room.

 One of them began pulling open a door in the floor when someone began pounding on the heavy wood separating you from the screams and the carnage outside.

 Finally, the door was pulled open, and you climbed inside. In the dark, the last thing you noticed was the wet liquid spattering your face.

 …

 Light blinded you as the giant of a man carried you outside. You kicked in his grip, not willing to give up this easily. He only laughed in response and threw you into a corner of the church. You landed on your back and looked around for someone, or something to help you as your eyes fell on a woman next to you. Your stomach turned as you realized what was happening to her.

 You blindly grabbed for the knife as he began to ruck up your skirt. He growled as you slashed shallowly across his face and slapped you in response. You were selfish, and what you were about to do next could be worse than being raped, but you didn’t care.

 “You can’t do this, I’m the princess!” you yelled, but he only laughed. In the broken Norse Ivar had taught you, you tried to tell him again.

 “Grandfather… King.” You managed, as the door was open once again, and a man in a chariot rode in. He was wearing a helmet, but from the way he was sitting in his chariot, he could be Ivar. Ivar would protect you, right?

 “IVAR!” you screamed as loud as you could. The man on top of you stopped, staring at you confused and the figure on the chariot turned their head too. You took the man’s confusion and dashed towards Ivar.

 You barely made it five steps before the man pulled you back and you fell, but a few harsh words from Ivar made him pick you up and sit you against a pillar, a firm hand on your shoulder.

 He looked at you, surprised and intrigued. He looked older, surer of himself than the last time you’d seen him, but there was also something even more sinister about him.

 Then, he smiled brightly. “Princess Aethelind!” he exclaimed, much too optimistic. He leaned on the edge of the chariot and scrutinized you. You knew you had to look disheveled at least. “What brings you to York?” Ivar asked.

 You decided to go for an oversimplified half-truth. It had always seemed to work for grandfather, after all. “You.” You replied.

 “Me?” Ivar asked, raising his eyebrows. He looked like he wanted to ask you another question when two other men walked to the chariot. They both had the same startlingly blue eyes, and from their demeanor you guessed they were his brothers.

 The more serious one began talking to Ivar in quick, quiet Norse while the one with the boyish grin smirked at you. You stared back, trying to hide yourself under his gaze. A quick command from Ivar, and the giant hoisted you up and carried you away.

 …

 You had sat in the dark, cold room for what had felt like an eternity when another Northman hoisted you from the floor and back into the church. When you were inside, he immediately pushed you down into a chair.

 The three brothers sat at the table, and you only caught a few words of their discussion.

 “Land… chess... Aethelwulf… game...”

 At the words ‘marriage’ and ‘Aethelind’, you lifted your head. They were talking about you. They were talking about binding you, to one of them probably. Suddenly, Ivar hoisted himself up and crawled towards you quickly. He put a calloused hand under your chin and turned your face from side to side.

 Unconsciously, you leaned into the touch. Everyone here had tried to touch you as little as possible and the last time you had hugged your little brother was two days after Ivar had left.

 Then, you shook yourself out of your trance and snapped away from him. The small smirk on his face told you that he had noticed, nonetheless.

 “Are you married?” he asked you in a heavy accent. You shook your head. His eyebrows knit together.

 “Then why are you here?” he interrogated.

 “My father sent me here to become more faithful. He said I’d spent to much time with you.” Ivar sniggered.

 “You Christians are funny.” You had to smile a little. He turned away and crawled back to his brothers.

 The younger one, who seemed to be called Hvitserk nodded in your direction and smirked again. The older one elbowed him. You watched them for a while, trying to decipher their words and what they were having such a heated argument about.

 You were dragged away and thrown back into the room with a ragged blanket that you grasped onto desperately. You shivered as you fell asleep, but your last thought was of your future. Were they going to kill you?

 No. you thought to yourself. But they might do something much worse.

#ivar x y/n #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar x oc #vikings #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #ish #this was supposed to be a oneshot and now it's a miniseries oh well #smut #ivar's heathen army #alfred #aethelwulf #aethelred #King Aelle #judith #king ecbert #northumbria #christianity #pregnancy #cuddling #mutual decisions of minimal trust in order to treat the fact you both are touch starved #prompts #fanfic

[popcorn1989]

𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡.

Prompt List for Requests - Requests Open

Updated -> 11.01.2023

---

Fan Videos - Witcher, Vikings, Others: [Click Here]

Gifs List - Arnas, Eamon, Others: [Click Here]

Requests - Witcher, Others: [Click Here]

Other Stories and Fanfics - [Click Here]

One Shots:

Cahir --- The Man of the white Flame -- Words: 1957

Cahir x Jaskier --- You have no Idea -- Words: 948

Cahir x Rience --- Chapter 1 -- Words: 308

Cahir x Rience --- Chapter 2 -- Words: 344

Cahir x Rience --- Chapter 3 -- Words: 555

Cahir x Rience --- Let's fight -- Words: 657

Cahir x Jaskier --- Don't you Dare -- Words: 1730

Rience x Cahir --- Set me one Fire -- Words: 2934

Rience x Jaskier --- Stand by my Side -- Words: 1914

Rience x Jaskier --- Please don't do that -- Words: 1130

Rience x Jaskier --- I am Fed up -- Words: 1811

Rience x Jaskier --- Valentine Couple -- Words: 217

Jaskier x Rience --- You're in my Mind -- Words: 877

Jaskier x Rience --- Jaskiers last Hope *1 -- Words: 1400

Jaskier x Rience --- Jaskiers last Hope *2 -- Words: 1373

Jaskier x Rience --- May I help you? -- Words: 1154

Rience x F!Reader --- Erotic -- Words: 908

Rience x Cahir x F!R --- Uninhibited Night -- Words: 1563

Rience x Renfri --- Never Again -- Words: 1372

Rience --- All is Well -- Words: 427

Funny Stuff:

Witcher Boys Drive Bus 🚌

If the Witcher boys were dogs 🐩

When you play Poker with rhe Witcher-Boys 🃏

Witcher boys in The Lion King 🦁

When you suddenly stand in front of the naked Witchers

When you have to Shop, with the Witcher-Boys

Rience x Oc (Own Character) Chapters:

Prehistory - Click Here --- Words: 833

You don't know how I feel ---Words: 3104

Let me show you ---Words: 2744

Dont Tell me that --- Words: 2680

I fight by your side --- Words: 2251

Whatever you say --- Words: 2778

Kill me, if you want it --- Words: 2827

My soul is on fire --- Words: 2029

to be continued....until Netflix gives us more

Okay, this is my Life: Here - In progress

Story Summary: Ivar has a hard life, but soon everyone turns against him. Soon he knows that this is his life. These are connected stories from Ivar's life, and we accompany him a bit.

Vikings - You're my Blood: - paused

Story Summary: Ivar was stabbed in battle, against the King of Wessex, by an unnamed soldier. And Hvitserk has converted to Christianity. But something happened that turned Hvitserk’s life upside down, he had to make a choice, and he is taking a dangerous path.

The Long Journey --- Words: 2917

The Stranger --- Words: 2879

Hopeless --- Words: 3163

The Search --- Words: 2817

Coming Soon.....

One Shots:

Ivar x Hvitserk -> You will not Go to Hel --- Words: 2126

Vikings x Reader -> The Prophecy --- Words: 7381

Ivar x F!Reader -> Honey Lips --- Words: 5608

Floki x F!Reader -> White Bird --- Words: 8474

Ivar x Hvitserk -> Summer Fishing --- Words 1175

Ivar x Hvitserk -> Summer Beer --- Words: 1277

Hvitserk x Reader -> I See you --- Words: 5807

Floki x Ivar -> Witchcraft --- Words: 3573

Funny Stuff:

WhatsApp Chats between You and Vikings-Characters*1

WhatsApp Chats between You and Vikings-Characters*2

When you try to bake with the Vikings boys

If you ask the Viking boys how their day was

If you want the Vikings Boys to pull a tooth for you

One Shots:

TLK Boys x F!Reader - "Im the real man Here"

TLK x F!Reader - The Wolf and the Lamb

Funny Stuff:

If you ask The last Kingdom men...

Request Prompts - Here

.... for help with the Xmas party

.... if they train with you.

#masterlist #witcher cahir #witcher fanfiction #vikings fanfiction #my stuff #i write #women writers #creative writing #storytelling #witcher fandom #vikings fandom #i write stuff #long fanfic #short fanfic #the last kingdom fandom

[thyshadowwriter]

Lost & found.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: being rescued by Helga in one of the raids and reluctantly tolerated by Floki, a young girl finds herself amidst a strange place with strange people, but if adapting to the cultural shock wasn't hard enough, catching the attention of the volatile and beloved son of the Queen would soon prove to be the ultimate proving. That if she realizes just how much being around prince Ivar is walking on thin ice.

Author's note: simply said, a scenario that's been playing in my head. I took some liberties with the wacky timeline. Apologies in advance for typos, grammar and the lack of a read more, only so much I can do on mobile XD.

This chapter is all around Helga and Floki as they bring her with them.

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

This was a bad idea, a mad idea, Floki was sure of that, yet he couldn't bring himself to deny the desperate plea of his wife, he had already done that. If bringing that strange girl with them would at least ease the grief of his Helga, then he could put up with the girl, granted she lived enough to wake.

Though the fact she was injured before they arrived was a thought that he couldn't ignore.

The girl was laid on furs Helga carefully arranged for her. She was passed out since they got her from the raid. The wound on her left chest, dire as it was, was healing slowly with Helga's care, and as uncomfortable as it was for Floki, he too helped Helga in her sudden wish to keep this girl alive.

Helga searched the girl's body, seeking any other wound but finding nothing, much to her relief. She washed her long, pitch black, hair with a smile on her face, rolling the curls around her fingers.

Days had passed like this, with Helga hovering over her with a joy Floki had long since saw. She would stare at the passed out girl as if she had known her since birth, then at Floki with a smile and a shine behind her eyes. It was a horrible idea, but she was happy so he would smile back to her while it lasted.

Part of him wished the girl would just not wake and he wouldn't have to deal with whomever she was and the consequences of her presence, part of him was very curious she did wake for him to see it unfold.

After a few days of Helga's careful attention the girl woke up. She squirmed weakly in the furs, face full of pain. Helga was already by her side, as she had been since she brought her.

"Floki! Floki, she's waking!" Said Helga looking back to him.

He spoke nothing.

The girl squirmed more, rolling her head from side to side, trying to move her hands, under the fur, but her attempts were too weak to do much.

"Wake up, my beautiful child. Wake up."

She called the girl with soothing words and caressing hands on her head.

From the other side of the tent, Floki watched warily, he was curious yet he didn't want to be part of it. It would probably be best if he didn't anyway. Not now.

The girl blinked weakly, whispering something incomprehensible to them.

"It's alright, my dear, it's alright. Wake up." Helga said, keeping the girl's head still else she moved harshly, while caressing her plump cheeks with her thumbs.

She mumbled something that sounded like a question, face scrunched in pain, while trying to move her head.

"Wake up. Wake up, child."

Helga smile faltered and her voice waved.

She opened her eyes slowly, stopping her movements. She was unfocused, but Helga's hand softly caressing her face guided the girl's gaze to her.

She looked to the girl with a hopeful shine in her eyes even if they were watery. The girl finally looked back to her. From the other side, Floki saw how her eyes turned from pain and confusion to dread and her lips parted slightly as if trying to say something but nothing came out of them.

"I've found you, the gods sent you to me." Helga said with a soft voice.

The girl stared at her for a few seconds before passing out again.

"Floki! Floki, help me. She passed out." Helga called for him, trying to shake her awake.

Floki sighed and without moving from his spot said to her:

"She's recovering, Helga. Let her rest. She'll be up in no time now."

Helga looked back to him with eyes wide open, but silently agreed with him. Turning back to the girl, she adjusted the furs around her, caressed her face and kissed her forehead, before going to sleep herself.

She would wake up anytime soon, Floki was sure, albeit not relieved.

Two days more the girl woke up. She was obviously tired, but sat down startled before Helga could stop her. A look of utter confusion and fear that clouded her expression.

She was young, younger than what their Angrboda would be by now. Her hair was as black as a raven, very long and curled, cheeks and lips plump. Her dark eyes, looking to every detail surrounding her, transparent to all emotions crossing her mind.

When Helga approached her with a bowl of food, she flinched, looking back and forth terrified of Helga and Floki.

"Don't fear, my child. We won't harm you." Helga said, leaning a hand to her.

The girl seemed to ponder what what to do, looking to the bowl and Helga.

She tried to move, but she agonized in pain as she moved her arm.

Helga hurried to her, sitting by her side and petting her head to calm her down.

"Be careful, you are still wounded." She said worried.

The girl looked down to her covered wound, to Helga, who smiled kindly and nodded and to Floki, who looked to her, possibly as intrigued as she was.

She stood still, her other hand hovering above her wound, a lost look in her eyes. She looked to Helga, searching something, perhaps an answer.

"It is alright, my child. You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you." Said Helga with her kindest smile.

The girl pulled her eyebrows together, possibly not understanding a word of what was said, but still searching meaning.

She then cautiously nodded to Helga, accepting the food and the help to eat. She went back to sleep shortly after.

Helga was happy, looking back to Floki and giggling, trying to keep quiet as to not disturb the resting girl.

"She is getting better, Floki. See? The gods gave her to us."

"I hope you are right, Helga. I hope you are."

Back to Kattegat, the girl was already on her feet, Helga guiding her with a reassuring hold on her shoulders. It became clear to them she spoke nothing of their language nor of the Christians for that matter, but she seemed to be thankful and surprised by being saved. She accepted the food, learned their names and tried to understand them to the better of her abilities.

The only thing she refused to say was her name. She would always turn silent or look away.

"She refuses to say her name, we need a name, we need one to introduce her." Said Helga.

Floki has been pondering on the subject for a while. She wasn't to be a slave, so she needed a name if she was to be part of the society as their adopted daughter.

"Revna. I will name her Revna."

#ivar x reader #vikings fanfiction #helga x reader #floki x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[reb0rned]

The Witch’s Heir.

Chapter 5.

Summary: The seer is ominous and another brother makes an entrance.

WHEW, OK, HELLO! It’s been a hot minute since I last posted anything and I am sorry for taking so long... It’s been kind of a crazy time for me, with too many new things that took my time completely. I can’t guarantee I will be consistent with posting, but I promise I will really try. I am fond of this story and would like to finish it eventually! Even though looking back to what I wrote years ago makes me see all the mistakes I made and probably still make,, but! I am here, and I’ll rewrite whatever I need to. Thank you so much for your support, it really makes me happy to see the lil interactions, and thank you if you decide to support me still! Feel free to ask anything and correct me in my writing bc I kinda still suck at translating my own thoughts.

Lots of love for everyone! Hope you are safe and taking care of yourselves; you deserve it!

(also tell me if you want to be tagged or for me to stop tagging you!!)

Warnings: Sigurd being ableist, talk about slavery,, weapon use,,, i think that's it! If you believe i should add something else, please message me!!

Pairings: i’ve finally decided this is gonna be an (eventual) Ivar x reader! but there’ll be a little bit of everything.

Characters: Floki, Aslaug, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar, Bjorn, Tekk (oc), Cat (oc)

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​   @inforapound   @nyx-daughterofchaos98​   @bagpipes606   @amy8220   @mamabearlovr​   @ace-fiction​   @stillreadingfantasy​   @chandrababyface​

Word Count: 5191.

MASTERLIST

 ‘’What? No way! Ragnar had a christian friend?!’’ You leaned towards Floki from your place on the dusty floor of the room, your smile widening at his mystical and exaggerated expression. ‘'Weren't you guys enemies or something?’’

‘’And we are.’’ Ivar replied from beside you with a smug raise of his eyebrow. ‘’He was his slave.’’ You frowned.

‘’He was his friend. And the gods did not like that, they knew he would betray us. They even sent me a sign.’’ Floki interrupted, catching your attention again.

‘’The gods sent you a sign?’’

‘’I had a vision. They wanted me to… they did not want him here.’’ He looked perturbed by whatever it was he was thinking, but you were far more interested in what he had to say to notice that.

‘’Is it a common thing for your gods to speak to you? To send you signs?’’ Ivar sent a strange look your way at those words. 

‘’For some people, those who are gifted, it is.’’

‘’Those like you?’’ Floki smiled at that, he didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to grow on him.

‘’And you, it seems. Ivar told me his brothers brought you to the seer today.’’ You rolled your eyes; of course he did.

‘’Ah. Yeah, they did. But they might as well not have done it at all. He only spoke nonsense.’’ You replied with an annoyed shrug, and Ivar laughed dryly.

‘’You only say that because your dense mind could not understand the seers wisdom.’’ You looked at him while he mocked you, flaring your nostrils in anger.

‘’And what would you know?’’ You fired back, your voice raising with each word. ‘’You weren’t even there.’’

‘’What did the seer tell you?’’ Floki interrupted you quickly, he knew your conversation could get heated faster than he could hope for.

Luckily, you turned your attention towards him again.

‘’He told me I had to not worry at all, to just wait for my destiny to find me. He said that is what the gods want from me, amongst other confusing things…

Like, what is that? He wants me to wait? Like nothing’s wrong? Like I’m not somewhere completely strange for me and my siblings…?’’ You sighed.

‘’The seer is never wrong, if he told you that, then you should not have any worry.’’ Floki waved his hand dismissively.

‘’But he can actually, like, get the stuff wrong, I guess? I mean, they can’t always understand what the gods tell them, can they? Even if they know them that much.’’ You insisted, trying your best not to lose your temper.

‘’That is exactly what they do, idiot.’’ You ignored Ivar’s words.

‘’You must trust the gods to guide you eventually towards the right path.’’ Floki patted your head lightly and offered you a sympathetic smile. But it did nothing to calm you down: you could see, besides the usual glint of mischievousness, a small fragment of what you could only assume was worry.

‘’Right…’’

 ‘’The important thing is that you recognise them whenever they call you. So let us go back to your lesson. Tell me; what are the many names of Odin?’’

———————————-

That same afternoon, you and your sister were by the stables, accompanied by Ubbe and Hvitserk. Álvaro was already riding through the mountains besides Sigurd, not having wanted to wait for any of you. Your sister struggled with the saddle while you groomed your horse, gently.

‘’Come on, Catalina. He won’t hurt you.’’ You smirked when you heard Ubbe’s exasperated voice, trying his best to help your sister.

‘’But prince Ubbe! If I get down there, I’m scared it’ll knock me down with its hooves!’’ Ubbe snorted.

‘’If you are quick and firm, there is no danger at all. Besides, you told me you had ridden a horse before?’’ He quirked an eyebrow.

‘’And I have, but saddling the horse… that’s different. He’s looking at me with hatred in his eyes...’’

You took Hvitserk’s hand in yours and he guided it to the saddle, indicating to you the correct way to mount it. You followed his instructions carefully.

‘’Be gentle when you sit, Y/n. If you let all your weight fall on her back at once, you will hurt her.’’ You nodded and let your weight down slowly, the mare snorted gratefully and you patted her neck.

‘’Alright, perfect. Now take the reins like I taught you.’’ You did as he told you, a nervous smile on your lips, for this actually was your first time truly riding a horse.

‘’Come on, Cat. We are waiting for you!’’ You teased, smiling at the glare your sister sent your way. Once she finally managed to get her horse ready, she was helped up by Ubbe, he held her by the waist and pushed her up like it was nothing. Ubbe then proceeded to sit behind her. You reached out your hand to help Hvitserk up. 

‘’Alright.’’ Said Ubbe, he was holding the reins over Catalina’s hands, leading them towards the door. ‘’Catalina and I will go ahead, you try to follow us, hm?’’

You looked as Cat took the reins from Ubbe’s hands and started riding, her smile getting wider as she took control of the horse. Even from afar, you could hear their giggling and seemingly endless banter.

‘’Okay. Alright. Come on, please follow them.’’ You spoke softly. The only reaction you got was the twitching of her left ear. ‘’It won’t work.’’ You whispered, already getting frustrated.

‘’It is fine, do not get nervous.’’ Hvitserk comforted you with his hands on your shoulders. ‘’Try kicking its belly with the heels of your boots.’’ His voice was calm and his words were spoken directly into your right ear. That did not help with your nerves at all. 

There was no response from the horse as you repeatedly struggled to kick her belly without hurting her. You let out a frustrated sigh.

‘’I can’t do it, she won’t move.’’ You whined, and you could hear the suppressed snort coming out of Hvitserk’s mouth. ‘’Hvitserk, don’t laugh at me!’’

‘’It is alright, Y/n. You need to be firm, or she will take advantage of your gentleness. Let me do it.’’ He dug his heels on the horse with determination, and she abruptly went into a trot . You yelped, holding on for dear life to the reins and having just enough time to stop it before you ran over the figure that suddenly appeared in front of you. 

‘’Sorry! Oh god, I almost killed you!’’ You caught your breath, holding your chest with your free hand. The man in question was tall, even taller than your horse, and his hair was pulled up into a long braid; you would have thought it was Ragnar if he wasn’t so young. Your thoughts were cut short by Hvitserk’s voice.

‘’Bjorn!’’ He jumped down the horse and greeted him with a hug. You were able to see Catalina and Ubbe just behind them, holding the reins of their horse as they had already dismounted. Your sister helped you down the horse as Ubbe joined the group of men.

You were patting your skirts as the stranger called Bjorn approached you with an intimidating gaze. You straightened your back and looked at him with pursed lips.

Catalina was the first to break the tense silence that was building up. ‘’Prince Bjorn! This is my sister.’’ She gestured towards you and you forced a smile on your lips.

"Ah, you must be Y/n. I have heard a lot about you." You gaped at him, eyes wide.

"Seriously?" You looked around you at the two brothers, and they shrugged with guilty smiles. Bjorn rested a hand on your shoulder. A gigantic hand. 

"Do not be surprised, it is not very common to have such strange visitors here in Kattegat. So it is only normal that people talk about you."

‘’Uhh, yeah, I guess. But, jus-’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’Who are you?’’

‘’I am Bjorn Ironside, son of Ragnar.’’ He announced proudly.

‘’Another one!? Woah…’’

‘’He is a great viking.’’ Ubbe spoke, proudly, while he took the horses to their places. You patted your horse’s snout as a goodbye, and she snorted in return. You smiled.

‘’Has father seen you yet?’’ Hvitserk spoke now, you intertwined your elbow with your sister’s, seeking for an ounce of comfort. She accepted it, but followed close behind the men as they made their way outside. You could see she was looking at the middle one with a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nudged her on the side with a slight frown.

‘’And what’s up with that face of yours?’’ She whispered mockingly when she noticed how you watched her.

‘’Nothing’s wrong with my face.’’ Your whisper was a little louder than intended, and she sniggered when Hvitserk turned towards you for a second, giving you an amused smile, before joining his brother’s conversation again. ‘’I should be the one asking.’’

She only laughed again as she picked up your pace to reach the princes.

———————————-

‘’So you four will be joining your brother on the next raid?’’ You asked as Sigurd strummed his oud softly, both of you resting against a tree.

‘’Yes. Well, not the four of us, Ivar cannot go to the battlefield.’’ He looked at you, eyebrows raised, with a slight smirk.

‘’Really? It seemed to me like he was very good at fighting. At least from what I could see the other day.’’ Catalina inquired from beside you, she was resting her head on your right shoulder, a tired look on her face. You dug your carving knife into the piece of wood on your hands. Sigurd took a peek of your work from over your left shoulder.

‘’Maybe he is good, but he is also a cripple.’’ He muttered and pointed at the piece on your hands. ‘’What is it?’’ 

You stopped for a second, processing his words, and shook your head. "It's a dragon. I'm learning to carve those dragon heads that you have on your boats. Only a smaller version of them." You clarified, he hummed.

"Why is that?"

"Floki says I need practice before I can really help him, and I want to, so..." He hummed again in understanding.

There was a long silence, the gentle melody of Sigurd's oud enveloping the three of you, accompanied by the soft chirping of the birds and the singing of the breeze against the trees. The non-silence had felt peaceful before you broke it.

 "Why would you say something like that?" You turned to look directly into Sigurd’s eyes. He did the same, only with a slight frown.

"I wanted to know-" He began, slowly, but you interrupted him.

"No, no. I meant the crippled thing. Why are you always so cruel towards your brother?" You set your carving knife and wooden piece on top of your skirt and thighs.

He averted his gaze then, looking to the distance, to a young woman with blonde locks that seemed to be waiting. You recognised her as one of the thralls that worked for the royal family, Margrethe. Your sister shot you a reprimanding look before she clarified.

‘’You don’t need to answer that, Sigurd.’’

"Because he deserves it." You tried not to frown, waiting for him to explain. "It has always been like that. Poor defenseless Ivar getting everything he wants. I am tired of it. That is all.’’ 

‘’But he’s your brother, shouldn’t you support him? I mean it mustn’t be easy for him, you should know that.’’ 

‘’Well, he needs to understand that he is not the only one suffering.’’ Sigurd looked into the distance, the dryness of his words exasperated you.

‘’But you can’t say that! You have two legs, you can walk, and run, and dance, and swim, what would you know about his world?’’

‘’What do you know about him at all?’’ To which you answered with silence. He was right, you didn’t know how it felt, either, you didn’t know anything about him except for the fact that he was an ass most of the time. You felt a little foolish.

‘’And why are you defending him so suddenly? He has been terrible to you from what I could see.’’ Catalina spoke and you made a face at her.

‘’I don’t know.’’ And you didn’t, really. It was then that you heard Sigurd click his tongue, and you both turned to follow his pained gaze. It was almost too far for you to see, but the girl you remembered named Margrethe was now being held close by a man. A familiar one. You squinted your eyes and gasped when you realised who it was.

‘’Is that Ubbe?’’ You whispered, Sigurd replied with a nod. ‘’Wow, they’re not discreet at all, are they? Who is that? She’s one of those thralls, isn’t she?’’ You were pretty sure you knew her name, but didn’t want to risk getting it wrong, since it seemed to matter so much to the young prince.

‘’Her name is Margrethe.’’ Sigurd clarified. For a few minutes, you just stared ahead, in complete silence. Not even the lute was playing now, and you could feel a strange tension building up around you. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously as the couple disappeared into the forest, hand in hand. 

‘’...what is happening here?’’ You positioned yourself in front of your sister and the prince so you could look at them both. Sigurd made a face, but Catalina wasn’t bothered by your question, she looked at the prince with an equally interested face. She had always known how to avoid confrontation when it suited her best.

‘’That’s right, have you got feelings for that girl?’’ She asked, a smirk forming on her lips. Sigurd flinched, feeling slightly intimidated by your curiosity.

‘’I am in love with her.’’ His voice was so soft it could’ve been confused with a bird’s chirp. It was almost heartwarming. Almost.

‘’You’re in love with a girl who is your slave?’’ Your sister asked with a grimace.

‘’Well that’s problematic.’’ You added to your sister’s comment, she nodded sadly.

‘’Why should it be? I can free her, then I will marry her.’’ He was determined, you had to give him that.

‘’But does she want to be with you, though?’’ Catalina asked, gently, like she was speaking to a child, like she did with you when you were little and wanted something you couldn’t have.

‘’She does love me, she told me. But she has also been with Ubbe and Hvitserk. That’s the problem.’’

‘’Uh, man. She’s a slave.’’ You deadpanned.

‘’And what does that matter? She is human.’’ His tone was slightly offended, and you rushed to clarify.

‘’Yeah! Yeah I don’t mean it like that. But she’s a slave, can’t you understand? The fact that she says she loves you doesn’t mean anything. Because she’s not free to choose, and you’re princes! You hold power over her.’’ How did you explain consent and power dynamics to a man from the middle ages? 

‘’What do you mean? She does no-’’ 

‘’Catalina! There you are!’’ You were interrupted by a group of young women, all of them dressed as warriors. They all approached you, and Catalina rose to her feet, greeting them with a smile.

‘’Girls! Were you looking for me?’’

‘’We were about to begin our training, come with us.’’

‘’Oh, of course!’’ She turned to you with a smile. ‘’See you later, guys.’’ She winked at you and then followed her group of new friends.

You looked at her as she disappeared, slightly shaken. 

‘’Woah… I didn’t know she had made so many friends already.’’

‘’She is quite naturally good at fighting, that made her popular.’’ 

‘’I can see that. And yet here I am…’’ You muttered the last part, but Sigurd heard you nonetheless, and he bumped you slightly with his elbow.

‘’Hey, you told me you enjoyed singing, why don’t you sing while I play?’’ He lifted his oud up, a smile returning to his face as he strummed random chords.

‘’Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’’ You smiled at him and he tilted his head to the side, confused.

‘’Why?’’

‘’I don’t think you’d like any of the songs I know.’’

———————————-

You sat on the floor while you examined the weapon in your hands; a short and light sword that Ivar had left on the floor when he picked the bow for practice. If you raised your eyes you could see the brothers practising. Ubbe and Sigurd fought stubbornly while Bjorn drank a cup of water, almost out of breath. You had seen your sister a couple of times as she came and went with the shieldmaidens by her side, but it was weird since she seemed not to acknowledge any of you each time. On top of that, Floki had sent you away since there were important matters to be discussed with Ragnar about an upcoming voyage or so you had believed to hear.

So you weren’t having a good time.

‘’Hey, Bjorn.’’ He turned to look at you. ‘’Do you know where my brother is? I haven’t seen him all day.’’

He let the cup down to approach you. It intimidated you how tall he looked from your spot on the floor, so you got up. 

"I think I saw him with Hvitserk, they were laughing. I cannot tell you much more." He shrugged and you nodded your head, thinking to yourself. He was acting weird, he hadn't even spoken a word to you all day. You heaved a sigh and Bjorn startled you with a hand on your shoulder. He smiled down at you empathetically, and you knew what he was implying.

"I'm not worried, I know all of this is new and he surely wants to get to know everything as soon as possible." You smiled back.

"Right." You both turned to look at the brothers, who were concentrated in fighting still. "Would you not like to try?" He pointed to the sword hanging limply from your hand. You grimaced.

"I'm terrible, it's no use." You shook your head, and he made a face.

"Ivar told me you had an incident the other day with Sigurd's axe."

"He did, didn't he?" You bit your cheek as a way of controlling your bitterness. 

"He also told me you had quick reflexes. Those are pretty useful in a fight." Your head snapped towards him, surprised. He wasn't looking at you, but there was a slight smile playing on his lips. You turned to look at Ivar as he shot one of the arrows right at the middle of the mark. Ivar, being… nice?

"No way he said that. You must be mistaking him with someone else." You crossed your arms stubbornly.

"Whoever it was, it does not matter. Let me see that for myself. Fight with me." He then turned to look at you, and you stood there for a few seconds, processing his words.

‘’Hah. No, I don’t think so. No way.’’ You shook your head and smiled, as if he was just joking.

‘’I will not hurt you, you need not worry. It is merely a game.’’ He gently guided you towards the centre of the training camp.

‘’But Bjorn! You’re going to crush me, I’m too small and weak!’’ He smirked at that, while picking up his own sword and giving you a round shield. It was so heavy that you struggled to hold it in one hand.

‘’And how else do you think you are going to get strong if you do not train, hm?’’

‘’Bjorn! Listen to me.’’ You raised the shield as much as you could, which wasn’t that much, to protect yourself from any sudden attack. ‘’I’m not fighting. I’m not.’’ You stepped back as he threateningly moved towards you, jokingly attempting to hit you a few times.

‘’Stop it! Stop it, Bjorn! I’m serious! Shit-’’ He hit your sword and it flew right out of your hand, leaving you with the protection that the heavy shield could give you. You looked around for a second to notice that the other three were now looking at you, the two older brothers had looks of nervousness on their faces, while the youngest seemed to be analysing your every move, a look of concentration that almost took your breath away. 

You turned around right in time to block one of his blows, you noticed it was fiercer than the others, you pushed your shield forward with all your strength and the sword got stuck right in the middle of it. 

You stopped cold when you felt the tip of the sword brushing against the skin of your neck, sharp and cold, and Bjorn threw back his arm with a panicked grunt. You noticed he looked slightly taken aback, if not confused. You tried stabilising your breathing, terrible and scary images invading your mind as you struggled not to cry. You could hear laughter in the background, and the humiliation became unbearable. You threw the shield and sword to the ground, almost hitting Ivar in the process.

You took off, your voice caught in your throat. The only thing inside your head was the color red, dense and relentless as it pounded against your eyes and brain. It was too much.

———————————-

‘’You should pay them no mind, they are only teasing you.’’ Aslaug said with a serene smile as she braided your hair intricately. 

‘’But Queen Aslaug, they are always laughing at me, especially Ivar. He thinks I'm some kind of child.’’ You huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

‘’I am sure it was not that bad.’’ She assured you as she noticed your pouting. She was amused, for not wanting to seem like it, you surely acted like a furious little child, one she knew and loved all too well.

‘’And to think I defended him in front of Sigurd. Cat, can you believe it? I’m such an idiot. He can go fuck hi-’’ You sucked up some air suddenly as the queen tugged on your hair a little too harshly, your sister stifled a laugh from her seat just beside you both. Her hair had already been braided, and she looked beautiful.

‘’Just ignore him, Y/n. He’ll eventually get tired of mocking you. Or, I could teach him a lesson...’’ She whispered the last part, even if Aslaug was perfectly capable of hearing it. You made a face at her.

‘’If only you hadn’t left me alone with them… They’re too skilled for me.’’

‘’My sons have been training to be viking since they were children. You should not be ashamed of your progress, even if it is small.’’

‘’I don’t even understand why Bjorn wanted me to fight. I’m terrible, and I think it shows pretty well. I’ll just never fight at all.’’ You reached for one of the hairpins to give it to Aslaug. She took it and used it to hold your hair in place. ‘’By the way, have any of you seen Álvaro at all?’’

Cat looked at you, thinking for a moment before she shrugged. ‘’He said he was going training with Hvitserk. No idea if they’re still together.’’ You hummed, repressing the frown that was trying to creep up on your face.

‘’Alright, I’m done.’’ Aslaug announced and got up from the bed. She guided you by the shoulders so you were in front of the mirror. Her touch was gentle and it had this way of comforting you that you couldn’t quite explain. Even in front of the mirror, your gaze first fell on her proud expression and excited smile, you could only mirror it and look at the person in front of you. You almost didn’t recognise yourself, even if your face was still the same. The smile faded, and for a second you pursed your lips. This was not you. It almost brought yourself to tears, how much of a stranger you were to yourself in that moment, but you forced a smile back onto your face when you heard the excited voices of your sister and the queen.

‘’What do you think?’’ Aslaug lowered her face, tilting it to the side with a smile while squeezing your shoulders. Cat quickly joined you both, biting on her lip.

‘’Don’t you love it?’’ She asked, and you nodded instantly.

It wasn’t that you didn’t, you really liked how it looked, and it was better than having your hair falling on your face all the time. But that feeling, so new, it was scary. You didn’t look like yourself, you looked like one of them, and you weren’t ready for that. You would never be one of them, you knew right well where you and your siblings came from, you knew where your true home was.

———————————-

You entered the Great Hall with your sister by your side. It was already full of music, loud chatter, and it immediately brought a smile to your face, even if it was a nervous one. There were so many people compared to the feast you had been to the first time, but it was understandable, since the victorious return of their warriors must have been something big, you guessed. The king Ragnar called for you both as you approached the main table, squeezing in between agitated people. When you arrived, you instantly noticed your brother was nowhere to be seen, but were soon distracted by Ragnar’s hand indicating your place on the seats next to him, just between him and the princes.

‘’It is a shame that you decided to unbraid your hair, Y/n. It really did suit you.’’ Aslaug smiled at you and you shrugged timidly, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. ‘’On the other hand, doesn’t Catalina look just lovely? Hm, sons?’’ The look she sent them held more meaning than it seemed, you looked at the princes, each of them seeming to appreciate your sister’s astonishing looks. You almost rolled your eyes, all too used to that, but were interrupted by a young man speaking to you with a soft voice, close enough for you to hear him. It was Tekk.

‘’Would you like something to drink, master?’’ His foreign accent filled your ears, you were thankful to have him near.

‘’Hello, Tekk. Please call me by my name, I’m not in any way your master.’’ You turned yourself in your seat so you were facing him. ‘’And what is it that I can drink?’’

He showed you the contents inside the big jug he was holding as you leaned closer.

‘’It is just water. I could bring you mead if you would like.’’ He bowed his head and you smiled at him.

‘’No, don’t worry, I’ll have water. Thank you very much.’’ He smiled gently as he filled your cup. It was then that you saw your brother entering the Great Hall. Tekk had stopped smiling as soon as he recognized him, and that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

He arrived at the main table, accompanied by two young thralls giggling at his whispered words. When you turned around in search of Catalina, she was nowhere to be found, as well as prince Ubbe. You frowned to yourself and lowered your head, trying to focus on eating your food. He looked so much like one of the princes it was painful. 

The worst part was; he looked the happiest he had ever been, even this far away from home, he looked genuinely comfortable, and that made you feel infinitely more alone. 

You felt selfish for wanting to return home when both your siblings were having the time of their lives, and even if deep down you understood the reason for their unexpected happiness, you couldn't help but feel like all of it was terribly wrong. 

It was all too much for you. So much you hadn't noticed Sigurd’s hand on your shoulder as he repeated his question for the third time, you didn't know when you had risen to your feet and left the Great Hall without even looking back once.

It was bullshit, all of it.

Didn’t they miss their lives? Didn’t they miss their friends? Didn't they miss mom?

…

Did you miss mom?

Shaking your head, you began walking away from the Great Hall, feeling the tears begin to sting your eyes.

The town of Kattegat grew silent as you rushed away, as the darkness and the night’s solitude engulfed you.

There was no one around, so why did you feel observed? You looked around as you increased your speed.

Suddenly, as you approached the town’s exit, you stopped. You were frozen in place as you gazed upon the creature in front of you; a raven. Even if it was impossible for you to tell, you knew it was one of the ravens you met the first day here. It was looking directly at you. You wanted to search with your eyes for the other one, but your body didn’t answer you, and the raven seemed to speak through its piercing eyes.

You knew their names; Hugin and Munin, Odin’s ravens, his eyes and ears, they had appeared countless times in your dreams, so many that you didn’t even remember the first one.

But the raven’s eyes didn’t scare you, they were as warm as they were dark, and you knew they held the wisdom of every single thing within them.

You took a deep breath as you smiled faintly, a single question lingering in your mind.

‘’Where’s your-’’

The sudden feeling of a hand gripping your shoulder broke you from the trance you were on, and you startledly turned around to look at the figure behind you.

‘’Tekk?! What in the world are you doing here?’’ Bewildered eyes met the ones of the young servant boy, but he didn’t bow his head, instead he held himself proudly, almost as if he was an entirely different person. 

It shocked you, to say the least, and it was even more shocking for you when he slid his hand down your arm, going from your shoulder, to your elbow, to then your hand.

He then put a finger to his lips, and almost as if you were afraid he’d go back to his usual shy self, you complied.

It had been several minutes since you began walking inside the forest. You weren’t scared, his touch was warm and gentle, and he hummed while you walked, a melody so familiar, yet so calming. You felt as if you were back in your dreams, and you began seriously questioning it when you arrived where you were heading to, or rather, who.

Right in front of you, there stood a gentle-looking man, a man you had been hearing about for days now; a one-eyed man, with a beard as thick as the forest itself, and a travelling hat laying on the top of his head. Two beautiful ravens rested on both of his shoulders. 

It was the Allfather; Odin.

#vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings imagine #vikings fanfics #the witch's heir #vikings time traveler #time travel #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd ragnarsson #ragnarssons #aslaug #Ragnar Lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #Bjorn Ironside #floki the boat builder #platonic #oc #tekk #catalina #álvaro #y/n

[ivarisms]

Forbidden Romance

Title: Forbidden Romance

Summary: Ivar the Boneless finds a Princess during one of his raids on Mercia, a sign from the Gods he decides. She is a Christian and he is a Viking, a forbidden romance on both sides of the sea. But Ivar does not care what others think, and he won’t start now. 

Ratings: Mature, NSFW in later chapters, violence, non-con

Paring: Ivar the Boneless x Female OC 

                                        C H A P T E R  ONE --- FATE

“Come here.” Ivar wagged his pointer and middle fingers of his right hand towards the princess, beckoning her forward. A sly smirk curved at his lips when he saw the fear pool within her eyes. Slender shoulders slumped in distress and she grasped at the material of her dress, bunching it in her palms as if she was getting ready to 

R U N.

Ivar watched as she looked around the chapel where her bishop lay dead, his blue eyes fixed on her as she searched hopelessly for an escape that did not exist. The young woman soon realised she was out of options and settled her frightened gaze back onto the Viking.

“Did you not hear me, Christian?” He asked, his gravelled Nordic accent sneering around the religious word as if it was filth in his mouth. “I said come here.”

When once again she didn’t move at his command, Ivar the Boneless glanced at his brother Hvitserk who wasted not another second in grabbing her arm and yanking her forward roughly. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stumbled over the blue fabric of her dress and she froze when presented in front of the man whose name she had heard many times before now.

The locals some of whom had fought and survived battles against the Vikings said he was a God, some even were convinced that he couldn’t be killed, that he had been sent from the devil himself to burn all that was good from the world.

She swore that her heart would surely give out, not able to handle the stress she had been put under. What would he do with her?

“Tell me, what is your name?” He asked after a moment of studying her, leaning forward on his metal cane that creaked against the blood stained floorboards. He stared right through her, and she attempted to turn away from him but he scowled and snatched her chin between calloused fingers, forcing her to look up at him. The anger he possessed in his features was terrifying, and though he was handsome, it did not matter to her in that moment. He was a monster, that much was clear to her. “Answer me.”

“Please –“ She trembled, tears swelling in her soft eyes. “Please let me go, take anything you want, I won’t tell anyone.”

Ivar’s men broke out into a chorus of laughter as they ransacked the chapel, stepping over the bodies that littered the Holy site as the princess begged for her life. Ivar smiled back at her, amused at how she truly thought to herself that he would just let her free. So naïve. Snorting out a breath, he lifted a bloodied thumb and grazed it against her pale cheek, leaving a deep red mark behind. “I already have taken everything I want. This shithole town that belonged to your father is burning around us as we speak, it won’t be long before this chapel burns too. The people who resisted are now dead, the ones who didn’t are now slaves and will serve my people until there is no further use for them.”

Pausing, Ivar eyed the princess carefully and leaned in close until his face was level with hers. He felt something ignite within him as her bottom lip trembled, the fear she radiated was so infectious that it excited him. “As for your father, I had him crucified outside the town walls as a warning to the others who will no doubt come running to his aid.”

The princess lowered her head and sobbed quietly, tears spilling down her cheeks and into the crooks of her lips. She tried to take a step back away from him, but gasped when he snatched her throat and yanked her so close to him that she could smell the leather and blood clinging to him, along with musk and mud.

“You. Are. Evil.” She mustered through her terror, her mouth parting as he squeezed with just enough pressure to make her uncomfortable.

“I could not care less about what you think of me, girl.” He smirked at her then, feeling her pulse quicken in his hand. She was like a baby deer to him, it wouldn’t take much to break her in half if he wanted to. Making Christians squeal was a talent he had perfected, even his own brothers couldn’t stomach some of the imaginative techniques he used in killing those who apposed him. He imaged in that moment what it would look like to strip her naked and nail her to a cross alongside her father, letting her bleed out slowly and painfully. Oh, how King Alfred would weep at such a tragedy. “I am Ivar the Boneless and I am your new God. Now – tell me your name before you make me hurt you.”

She glowered at him, wishing him the worst pain and misery she could possibly imagine. If only God would strike him down now, she would pray to him every day until her last.

“My name is Freya.” She hissed through her teeth at him, wincing as his nails nipped at her tender skin.

Ivar’s smirk faded almost immediately and something else filled his eyes when he looked at her. Loosening his grip on her neck, he pulled his hand from her entirely and blinked when she coughed.

“Freya…” He murmured, tasting her name on his tongue as he gazed at her curiously. “How is it possible for a girl from these lands to share the name of our Goddess, hmm?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She bit back at him, lifting her hand to touch at her neck that was now reddened from his harshness.

“It doesn’t matter, hush now.” Pressing his index finger against her full lips, Ivar turned to look at his men who continued to take their share in the spoils they found within the chapel. If he ordered them to kill the girl, they would have and wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Hvitserk stood alert with sword in hand, waiting for the go-ahead to drive the steel through her heart like a knife through butter. But Kattegat’s King had changed his mind. Returning his gaze back to princess Freya, he sighed and rolled broad shoulders into a shrug.

“I was going to kill you. I had it all planned so beautifully in my mind.” He tapped his temple with his fingers and smiled at her deviously. “What would break King Alfred’s spirit more than having him see such a lovely princess crucified to a cross alongside her pig father? Having you die this way would make your people fear me more than they already do, you have no idea how much I hunger for that kind of fame.”

Freya trembled at the thought, but she said nothing to Ivar as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered against her skin as he spoke. “But now that I know that your name is Freya, I truly believe Odin has delivered you to me for a reason. You may think I am crazy, you won’t be the only one – but Odin does not want me to sacrifice you. He wants me to save you.”

Freya didn’t understand. She furrowed her brows as she stared up at the King, feeling her sadness overwhelm her.

“You always think everything is a sign from the Gods, brother – even when it is not!” Hvitserk grumbled, lifting his sword and pointing its sharpened tip at Freya threateningly. “She’s a Christian. Kill her and be done with it, enough of these games. We need to leave for Kattegat and bring these spoils back to our people before reinforcements arrive.”

“Are you telling me what to do, Hvitserk?” Ivar asked mockingly, his tone a veiled threat as he narrowed his steely glare at his brother. “Of course it is a sign from the Gods! You remember Freydis, yes?”

Sighing deeply, Hvitserk clinched his jaw at the mention of his brother’s once wife.

“And where is she now, Ivar?” He asked. “Dead. You killed her, remember?”

“Of course, I remember!” He seethed, his eyes darkening angrily. “She betrayed me, I had to kill her for the lies she told. And as much as I loved her, and Gods did I LOVE her – her death had to happen. You know this, everybody knows this. Odin demanded her sacrifice and now in turn he has gifted me with Freya.”

Eyes widening, the princess felt Ivar’s hand come to rest on the small of her back and glanced at the other son of Ragnar who glared at her like she was the top name on his list of people he wanted to kill. How could it be that her life now depended on Ivar?

“If that is what you believe, then so be it. I do not care anymore.” Hvitserk growled, glaring between his brother and the new pet he had claimed. “Take the Christian with you, all I’m concerned about is sailing home to Kattegat.”

“And we will.” Ivar stated, waving his hand at his men, commanding them wordlessly to go ahead and ready the longships for the journey home. “Come now, princess – we are going to Norway.”

“Norway?” She flinched from his touch as he reached for her arm, terrified of being whisked away to a foreign land. “Please Ivar, no.”

“Shut up.” He warned her carefully. He was in no mood for complaints, it had already been a long enough day. “Do not make me have to stuff your mouth with cloth and hog-tie you, it’s a rough journey across the North Sea and it would very uncomfortable for you. I would prefer it if you do as I say, and we will get along so much better.”

Her need to cry and fight him was unbearable, she wanted to scream and punch and kick him but she had no allies here. All her family, friends, everyone she had grown up with were now dead.

“Good.” Ivar patted her cheek, taking her silence as a victory. “Now, time to go.” Guiding her forward, the Viking allowed his men to flank her on either side to lead her out to the ships.

Ivar limped behind them, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.

tags: @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @strayrockette​

#Ivar the boneless #vikings #fic #romance #forbidden romance #female oc #my tags aren’t working atm to tag people idk what’s up I will need a fix

[peaceisadirtyword]

Coming soon: Heathen (Ivar/Edlynn)

Moodboard by me! I took the pics from Pinterest except the one of the cross, which is an screenshot of the Vikings season 6B trailer

Summary: Edlynn is to marry. The king and her father found a good suitor for her with whom she'll marry and go live with, leaving her home, family and friends. But the wedding plans got disrupted by the threat of the northmen, whose army gets closer and closer to the capital each day. King Harald Finehair, the crowned king of all Norway, leads his army through Wessex with renewed ambitions of expanding his own kingdom. With him rides a man known and feared from Wessex to Northumbria, a ruthless viking who sometimes crawl like a snake and is called Ivar the Boneless. Always with his brother Hvitserk by his side, he recalls that king Alfred was the only one who ever beat him at chess, but now intends to win the game in real life.

As Edlynn has to flee with her family and the king's army, evacuating the capital in fear of the constant attacks of the northmen, Ivar makes a plan, knowing they are outnumbered and will need to negotiate with Alfred if they want to win the war and get what they want, or at least part of it. He knows Alfred's weaknesses and immediately realizes what they need: a hostage.

First chapter coming next Thursday (24/06/2021)

_______________________oooo____________________

Edlynn [ed-lynn]: Old English (anglo-saxon), means "little noble one" or "princess".

Edlynn was born in Wessex, being the youngest of the three children of a noble man and his wife. Her mother died when she was a child, so she was raised by a nun called Hilda. She has auburn hair and light brown eyes, she is sweet and obedient, but also stubborn and sometimes too curious for her own good. She likes to read, and also loves to admire the illustrations on the sacred texts, even if she's not allowed to paint. She likes to hear and to tell stories, since her father used to tell made up stories for her and her siblings when she was a child. Edlynn is Christian, raised to behave properly, to do what she's expected to and to put her family's honor and God before everything else. She lives in Winchester, on King Alfred's court, where her father serves as a counselor to the king and her brother as part of his guard.

__________________________

Hello! A while ago you asked to know a bit more about Heathen, the new fic I’ve been planning for months. So I decided to make a moodboard, a small summary and an introduction to Edlynn, the original character I created for this!🥰 At first, it was going to be an Ivar x Reader, but as I was already creating original characters for this I figured I could make it Ivar x OC. As I said, if everything goes well I will post the first chapter next Thursday!

as I said before, this fic changes a bit the second part of the last season! and it’s inspired by my favourite ship from The Last Kingdom!🥰

Feel free to ask me any questions you might have about Edlynn or about the fic or anything! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it♥️ btw I’m sorry about the moodboard I know it’s terrible, I’m new at this🥲

#ivar imagine #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar x oc #ivar fic #heathen

[lisinfleur]

She Wolf

The request:

Author’s Notes | I think you gave me a lot of good material for a single shot. I placed this request between the scenes of the 6th Season. Think about this happening before the day in which Ivar decides to speak to Hvitserk, and they have a fight that costs Ivar's face and a huge scar. I may think about making this a big Ivar x OC fiction, but not for now. Let us see what the future will bring. For now, I hope you like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x OC Info | Requested by anon for 5CW II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1060 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, blood.

She was like the wild winds of Winter: coming out of nowhere, going away before he could figure out where she was going. For many years, Ivar thought that black-haired woman was some kind of goddess, spectrum, something who liked him enough to order her wolf to eat a man's neck, just to keep him safe from the assassin’s attack. He was fifteen at the time, and he was alone at the hunting cabin that night.

His brothers thought it was him who killed the bastard, but the truth was that he watched as her wolf bit the man to death, tearing his flesh so precisely that it was not possible to really say it was an animal attacking and not a violent man.

It was the first time Ivar watched death happening in front of his eyes without being frightened by it, and since then, he was never tired of watching it over and over again.

But it was never like her.

It was never precise like her wolf's teeth.

And he could never figure out who she was, despite seeing her through his whole story like a shadow following his steps. He was sure her wolf was the shadow attacking archers in England to prevent them from hitting his chariot. He could swear he saw her black cloak flying around the crowd when he yelled at the Christian army. Ivar was sure it was that woman who he saw killing the few men of his brother who would've been able to reach him before he could flee from Kattegat after his defeat.

But she didn't act against the Rus.

Was she killed by Oleg's men?

Was she afraid of the Russian prince?

Did she leave him before the Silk Road was finished for his steps?

Despite the tension in Oleg's palace, Ivar couldn't stop thinking about that nameless woman he so many times owed his life to.

She saved him too many times to leave like that, without a trace.

In his room at the palace, Ivar was thinking about her. Thinking maybe she was some kind of lucky charm in his life.

Now that Hvitserk was around, he wasn't feeling alone, but her memory was haunting his thoughts.

What could've happened to his savior?

"I hope you're thinking about a way to leave," a female voice sounded from behind his position, and Ivar lifted his torso in bed.

A dagger in his hand ready to slaughter whoever had dared to invade his room like that.

But the sound of growls and her voice calming the wolf sitting beside her were enough to get Ivar's eyes fully surprised.

"You..." he mumbled.

"You should prepare to leave, fallen king," she warned. "Oleg has been luring your addicted brother into vicious wonders, and if you're not ready to drag him out of this place, soon, he may be dragging you down to the grave."

"Hvitserk? What are you talking about? What is your name, woman? Why are you..." Ivar started, trying to take the chance and get all his answers at the same time.

However, she giggled instead of answering, looking at him with eyes that were different from one another, reinforcing in Ivar's heart that something was divine about that woman.

Her blue and dark brown orbs dove deep into his eyes, almost as if she could read his mind.

"I don't have enough time for the whole bunch of questions I know you have so consider me someone... Loyal... To you," she said, not leaving the shadows completely.

The beautiful black wolf looking at him with bright ambers from the corner of his room.

"Hvitserk is falling on Oleg's traps. But, at the same time, Dir is almost ready to send you his sign. Ensure you'll be ready to leave when Easter comes, and I'll be there to help you sneak away."

She was so determined! So secure of her loyalty to him!

What did he do to deserve her loyalty like that?

"Who are you, woman?" Ivar's lips mumbled as his eyes could catch a smile on her lips.

"Someone who doesn't believe in false gods," she said, looking at him. "But who knows you don't need to believe in yourself as a god, to be more than the average kind of men I've ever known. Use your brilliant mind, Ivar, the Ruthless," she said, walking towards the window.

The wolf followed her.

"And don't mind the guards in your way. I'll ensure they won't have tongues to speak about your trail."

She climbed up the window, and Ivar came down from the bed, dragging himself to call her back.

"Wait!" he asked. "How can I know you'll be here? You vanished since I've lost Kattegat to my brothers!"

She looked back, smiling at him.

"No arrow reached your armor, nor sword crossed your chest. Right?"

She was there, ensuring his safety all the time?

"Oleg's eyes are better than the eyes you had around you before. I may be hiding better, but it doesn't mean I'm not here. The night hides when the sun is born, but you still can see the shadows during the day. Don't worry, my king. The wolves follow its leader wherever he goes."

Ivar was even more confused than when she started.

Who made him a leader? There was more like her?

What was that woman?

"At least, tell me your name," he asked.

But her different eyes went outside, and she noticed something that caused the wolf to be unsettled as well. Ivar could see they wouldn't have much time.

"Whistle, young king. The winds will listen to your call," she said, mysterious.

Leaving through the window with her wolf before Ivar could reach the window frame.

When the strong arms pulled his body up, allowing him to look out to the town, there was no trace of her, nor her wolf, other than a howl echoing in the wind.

Ivar spent a long time looking out of that window. And then, the whole rest of his night thinking about what had just happened. In the morning, he was determined to speak to Hvitserk about that approaching between him and prince Oleg.

And in his mind, his plans would involve whistling when that whole thing was over, in a calm place, so he could talk to his lady-wolf once again.

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Tagged ones:

|| @bluearchersstuff || @ivarswickedqueen || @akamaiden || @bang-kim-bap || @cris101071 || @elysias-temple || @alicedopey || @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla || @lol-haha-joke || @readsalot73 || @rekdreams247 || @naaladareia​ || @laketaj24​ || @therealcalicali​ || @grungyblonde​ || @arses21434 || @honestsycrets​ || @2thequietone4 || @blackspiritshake��� || @vikingsbifrost​ || @wallabieswisher || @cyarikashakira​ || @chinduda​ || @isthat-tyra98​ || @xinyourdreamsx​ || @thiahilmarsdottir​ || @queenbeeta​ || @winchesterwife27​ || @gold-dragon-slayer​ || @mzliterarydreamer​ || @youbloodymadgenius​ || @marvelouuse​ || @tgrrose​ || @lif3snotouttogetyou​ || @lordsexmachine​ || @deathbyarabbit​ || @ietss​ || @thorins-queen-of-erebor​ || @didiintheblog​ || @h-e-a-v-y-l-e-a-t-h-e-r || @heavenly1927​ || @alexhandersenx​ || @alexisshoto​ || @letsloveimagines​ || @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ || @destynelseclipsa​ || @charming-merlin​ || @violetidk​ || @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ || @ghvsts​ || @littlemoonchildbear​ ||

Want to be tagged? Ask me! 

#history vikings #imagine vikings #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ivar x OC #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #sister wives #shot #HTGI

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

First Line Tag game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

I tend to begin first sentences with names for some reason haha. My favorite is 18, because it really just sets the tone for that whole story so well!

I was tagged by @aadmelioraa, thank you darling <3 I'll tag @whenimaunicorn @raincityruckus @geekandbooknerd and @darkcloakedinfinitevoid

1. All That's Best of Dark and Bright, a Tam Lin-inspired Sihtric x Eahlswith AU: Eahlswith hates traveling with this rowdy, ragtag company of Danes a little less each day.

2. To Curse a King, a Sihtric x Skade dub-con knife kink crackship that you can't prove didn't happen: Skade does not flinch as the knife pierces the skin at the crook of her elbow, and she does not struggle against the firm hand holding her wrist in place.

3. Silver Hairpins, Sihtric x Eahlswith canon-compliant fluff: Sihtric was always happy to come home flush with victory, but this time he was even happier

4. The Heart of a Family, Sihtric captured and tortured by Kjartan and Sven, because this poor darling is too easy to whump: Sihtric can't remember how long it’s been since he's seen the sun, though he knows when night is because that's when Kjartan and Sven leave him alone.

5. The Weight Behind a Blessing, a one-shot exploring a bit of Sihtric's past and his blossoming bromance with Osferth: Osferth is not the first Christian to bless him for splinting an injured arm, although he is the ugliest, Sihtric thinks, smiling down at Baby Monk after he slips the sling over his head.

6. To Tame a Wildcat, a little bit of Sihtric x reader battlefield kink that I will never apologize for: There is no softness in him now, the son of a man known for his cruelty, a fierce man in his own right.

7. we keep pretending the sun will not rise, a piece that explores the entire relationship of Katy x Reilly x Jonesy, from when they're in high school until when they break up: Katy tries not to smile over her coffee cup at the two boys across the small plastic table, their arms pressed together, Reilly’s damp hair dripping onto his shoulders and Jonesy’s eyes wide and bright.

8. so fill to me the parting glass, Sihtric tries to comfort Beocca when he's mourning Thyra, and Beocca learns maybe the rat-faced Dane isn't so terrible after all: Beocca cannot even stand to look at him, the Dane boy that Uhtred keeps in his company, the son of the man who tormented his wife for years

9. Pulse of my Heart, she has been searching for Finan for years, and doesn't believe she will ever find him: It was a great sword, longer and lighter than most, designed to be wielded by a man who danced around his foes like a whirlwind give human form.

10. Blasphemy, Osferth, wounded and tired of Finan's incessant worrying, asks Sihtric to sing. Sihtric cannot sing: They were on the road somewhere in Mercia, and this was one of those times that Sihtric felt he’d ridden the entire length of this land, from Wessex to Northumbria, a dozen times over

11. To Throw Curses, a piece exploring Sihtric's childhood, that I wrote after wondering why Sihtric knew so much about curses: His mother is a good Christian woman and proud of the fact that she’s managed to maintain her faith despite her hardships, so maybe Sihtric shouldn’t be surprised when she crosses herself and leans forward to repeat the gesture over his body, too.

12. He Lacks the Courage, OC Thora x Ubbe, tons of angst, Bjorn is a jerk, but that's just who he is: The boat rocks to the motion of the small waves and the rowers’ work, the sun paints the sky in luminous pinks and oranges and the waves spark and dance with the color of flames, and usually Thora would love this but tonight it just feels like emptiness

13. To Lie Down With Wolves, Ubbe x OC Imogene, Ubbe is disgraced for betraying King Ivar long ago, and keeps the slave Imogene against his better judgment (co-written with @darkcloakedinfinitevoid!): Imogene hasn't seen a wolf since she was small, the winter the snow reached halfway up the side of her family's cottage.

14. Funeral Pyre, Sihtric returns to Dunholm, a lifetime after he's left it, and finally puts its ghosts to rest: When Sihtric sees Dunholm rearing up on its high crag, bile rises into his throat but he keeps his face impassive because his friends are watching him.

15. Fighting Lessons, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x Steve Harrington, Steve teaches his lovers to fight in the Wheelers backyard, because none of them feel safe even though the gate is closed. Post season 1: He’s had this fear in him, ever since the cabin, that someday Nancy would be without her handgun.

16. Counting Breaths, in the dark when she can't sleep after falling into that place, the only thing that keeps Nancy sane is the rhythm of Jonathan's breath: Inhale, one.

17. Slow Hands, modern AU, Ubbe x reader, reader runs a horse sanctuary and Ubbe is her new farrier.: Finding a farrier was always such a pain, and of course as soon as the horses had gotten familiar with John, he'd thrown his back out.

18. Captured, Ivar x shieldmaiden reader hate-fucking, AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED: “Do you really think that’s going to work?”

19. First Sight, a companion piece to my longfic Feed You the Sky. Ivar and Kára reminisce on the first time they saw each other: Ivar is an old man now, his black hair streaked with gray, and the fire in his wife’s hair is dulled but still he cannot resist running his fingers through it every chance he gets.

20. Hidden Daggers, Sihtric and Eahlswith meet-cute and first night together, and you can't prove it didn't happen exactly like this: Sihtric was the son of a dead slave girl and he loves being a free man, he loves carrying swords and serving Uhtred and wearing silver arm-rings.

#tag games #fanfic games #the last kingdom #vikings #letterkenny #stranger things

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today XLI

A/N: Hello again! It's been a while, but I'm finally back with a new chapter! My laptop almost went out this week which set me back on finishing this, not to mention travelling as well. However, I am finally ready to present this hot off the press! We're about to begin the final arc of this story, and I'm so excited to press on! I hope you are as well, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! 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.

Masterlist

--

Quite frankly, the amount of celebration in the halls of Vestfold felt inappropriate to Asta. The Rus were thrilled with their victory, and understandably so, but with all the death that had bought that victory, including that of Björn Ironside, she found it to be in very poor taste. Ivar, who was sitting beside her, seemed… not necessarily like he was in agreement with her, like he felt the same way, but he seemed more underwhelmed than anything else. But Oleg was far from reflecting either of their moods, enthusiastic and excited about their prospects, the odds of them going on to be successful in their future campaigns.

Through the scattered conversation, Oleg called out a toast. “Here’s to victory, my friends!” he announced, and a round of cheers went up. The lack of a shouted Skål! being sent up unsettled Asta, only serving to remind her of the fact that these people were not their friends, whatever Oleg claimed.

Ivar’s dissatisfaction was proven not a moment later, as he shook his head just slightly and reminded Oleg, “The battle of Norway is not over yet. They have only retreated, and probably back to their fortress at Kattegat.”

Oleg was not dissuaded by this. “But probably without their talisman,” he countered. “Their hero. Their leader.” He stood from his seat in the throne at the head of the room and walked to Ivar, upon whose shoulder he laid his hand. “They say you killed him yourself.”

You certainly didn’t, Asta thought, glaring up at Oleg. She barely stopped herself from speaking the words.

“Mmm,” Ivar hummed. “I cannot be completely sure that Björn was dead.”

Oleg opened his mouth to argue, but Hvitserk cut him off before he could. “It’s not possible to kill Björn,” he said. Oleg went and sat in front of him, prompting him to elaborate. Hvitserk did so. “I saw him, getting carried off the battlefield with my own eyes.”

Asta could easily see that this had concerned Oleg, and a part of her wanted to enjoy that concern from him. She knew Björn was dead, had seen him fade from her sight, but if Oleg was uneasy, she’d be happy for him to believe Björn Ironside yet lived. He was looking for any sort of comfort in his uncertainty, and so even asked Hvitserk, “But you cannot say that he was still alive?”

“Uh… no,” Hvitserk replied with a slight shake of his head. “No, I cannot.”

Oleg nodded a little at that, and Ivar gave an irritated little huff, not wanting to focus on this any longer. “So,” he interrupted. “When do we leave for Kattegat?”

“As soon as we have repaired our ships,” Oleg answered, standing and starting to walk away. “This business must be finished. I confess, we lost more warriors in the battle than I had intended.” He sat on the throne once again. “You Vikings fight hard.”

Before Oleg could continue this train of thought, the doors to the Great Hall were opened, quite loudly, and two men were brought in who Asta didn’t recognize. Both were in chains, though one was dragged forward while the other was able to walk. Whoever they were, both Ivar and Hvitserk were stunned to see them, though the latter seemed quite a bit worried, too. 

“Who are these prisoners?” Oleg demanded of the guards who had brought them in. They didn’t get a chance to answer, as Hvitserk stood and approached them.

“This is King Olaf, once the ruler here,” Hvitserk announced, referring to the older, balder of the two. To Asta, he seemed the sort of old man one might find would be rather wise. She had a distinctly good feeling about him. “And this,” Hvitserk began, continuing to the other, “is King Harald, King of all Norway!”

Harald Finehair. Asta’s eyes narrowed and she stood, walking over to join Hvitserk as Oleg asked if this were all true. He seemed thrilled, but not her. She found herself glaring, angry and grieving again at the memory of a close friend who had died because this man wanted to raid her home. This was the man she held responsible for the death of the bishop, Heahmund.

King Harald was panting as he listened to Oleg, and in an exhausted, worn down answer, he said, “Yes. Alas to say. You cast your net… and when you hauled it in, you found that you have caught both the King and the Joker.” 

She could tell he thought himself clever, and bit out, “Or perhaps the Joker and a fool.”

Hvitserk gave something of a bitter chuckle, and then said, “King Olaf’s jokes were never… never my taste.”

King Olaf seemed quite hurt by this, his face falling. “Oh, I thought we got along famously, Hvitserk, son of Ragnar,” he replied.

Ivar stood and walked over to the group, and Asta glanced over at him as he came to stand beside her. “Well, do you remember me?” he asked. “I too am Ragnar’s son.” He lifted his cup to his lips and drank some from it.

“Oh, I know who you are,” said King Olaf. His voice turned mocking as he announced, “Ivar… the Boneless,” which earned a disparaging chuckle from the famed warrior. “From the sewers of York to the Silk Roads, your… your name is legendary. And you… his prophet.” His eyes turned to Asta, and she offered him no more than a bitter smile, before Oleg was cutting in.

“The question is… what to do with you both,” he said. “In what ways can you possibly… be useful to me?” He crouched down to get more level with King Harald.

Harald looked at him with a hardened gaze, and answered, “I have no intention of being useful to you. I won’t bargain for my life. For a Viking, that would be demeaning. To us, death is bliss… and I rush to bleed.”

“And what about you?” Oleg asked Olaf.

“Oh, I, uh… I’m not in a rush,” he said.

Oleg pressed his lips together, almost seeming to smile, before he waved a hand and they were taken away. “What interesting prisoners,” he commented, but Ivar noticed Asta’s disinterest, the way she still glared after Harald’s path. 

“Asta?” he prompted. “What’s the matter with you, huh? This is good.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Perhaps we can take King Harald’s head to Kattegat. He should be there when we take it back.”

She didn’t speak another word before brushing past everyone and almost storming out of the Hall into the cold air, and Hvitserk swallowed. He followed her.

“Princess?” he questioned, walking along in her wake as she continued angrily on. He decided to try again. “Princess, what is it?”

Asta suddenly turned on her heel, whipping around to face him. “I despise him,” she hissed. “King Harald attacked my home, and my family. He tried to kill my brothers, he would have killed my mother, and my friends.” She paused to swallow. “He did kill my friend.”

Hvitserk frowned and tilted his head, confused. “Who?” he asked.

“Heahmund.”

“Heahmund?” Hvitserk asked. “The Bishop?”

“Yes,” she answered. “If you must know, he helped train me, and then Harald Finehair attacked Wessex, and Heahmund died. I can’t say who took his life on the battlefield, but I know Harald is the one he went to battle against. I consider all the blood spilt that day to be on his hands.”

Hvitserk chuckled in such a way she couldn’t tell if it was sad or bitter. “If that is so, then anyone who attacks anyone has those warriors’ blood on their hands. Hmm?”

Asta nodded affirmingly. “For that reason, I have blood on my own hands,” she said. “We attacked Vestfold, and the blood of every warrior who died that day is on my hands, too. As is the blood of the man I killed to protect mine and Ivar’s identities. I hate it, but I realized in Kattegat that I wouldn’t return to Wessex with clean hands.”

Hvitserk sighed and stepped toward her. “I’m sorry that happened, Princess,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. She offered him a sad smile.

“I think that’s the first time I haven’t hated that title since Björn Ironside laid siege to Kattegat,” she told him. “Thank you, Hvitserk.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he chuckled. “I think I have an idea that might help you.”

“Is that so?” she questioned curiously. He gave a small hum and nodded.

“Come with me,” he instructed. “But be quiet and careful. We can’t be caught.”

Asta nodded slightly and began to follow him, wondering what he might have in store. He eventually led her down to the part of town where the prisons were erected, and had her pause, watching until they saw Ivar and Oleg leave. Then, when it was clear, he waved a hand for her to go inside. Though she did give an unsure frown, she went on as instructed.

Hvitserk did not follow her there, but rather waited outside to be sure no one tried to interrupt her while she was inside. A guard met her there, and while he initially seemed loath to allow her to pass, a few moments staring her down, being stared down by her in return, convinced him to do so. She stepped into a small, dark room, and there she found the Kings Harald and Olaf themselves, tied up and chained down so they couldn’t escape. Her gaze hardened exponentially at the sight of the former.

Harald looked up when the door opened, and at the sight of her walking in, he leaned his head back and chuckled darkly. “Ivar’s ‘Prophet’,” he said, drawing out the words. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“There is no pleasure in this,” Asta said. He lifted his head once more to look her in the eye.

“You are English,” he noted. “I thought so when we spoke in my Hall, but I could not be sure until I heard you again. So tell me… what is an English woman doing so far from home?” Something about the way he asked that question sent a shiver down her spine.

“Ask yourself, Finehair,” she nearly snarled. “Or have you already forgotten how you attacked Wessex, and stirred the King to call out his warriors, so that my friend and confidant was killed. I knew when I left that I would never see him again, but it’s you I blame for it.”

Harald tilted his head and leaned it back a bit, regarding her with a curious gaze. “The Princess,” he realized. “Björn Ironside spoke of you when he came to York. He told me about your mission to see Ivar. They couldn’t find you after we took Kattegat.”

“Then Björn didn’t trust you with the truth,” she mused. “He knew I was leaving with Ivar, so did Hvitserk. I suppose I should feel good about the fact he decided to protect me as opposed to telling you everything.”

“And you betrayed him,” Harald chuckled. “He led me to believe Ivar had killed you, before he disappeared, and the topic became one that wasn’t discussed in Kattegat. No one speaks of Ivar’s rule anymore. How does it feel to know you were a part of his-?” 

Asta suddenly knelt down to get in his face. “You watch your mouth,” she hissed. “I don’t know what plans Oleg has for you, but I assure you, they won’t interfere with my own desires.”

“He has decided I am going to live,” Harald practically gloated. “Ivar says he’d have made a different call.”

“As would I,” Asta agreed. “Perhaps I still will.”

Harald chuckled. “I told Ivar he didn’t have the power here,” he said. “Do you?”

“I have it,” she growled. “Oleg may have decided to spare you, but I have not. You should pray that Ivar will change my mind.”

“And who should he pray to?” a voice interrupted. Asta turned to see it was Olaf asking, and she gave a wry smile. 

“His gods, of course. I’m curious if they would choose to spare him.”

“Then you are still a Christian,” Harald almost huffed. “How does Ivar of all people tolerate that?”

“The same way Ragnar Lothbrok tolerated my father, I suspect,” she replied shortly. “That, or perhaps it is the fact I am Ivar’s wife that makes the difference.”

“His wife?” Olaf repeated. “I thought he was married to a… another woman?”

“Freydís,” Asta supplied, her eyes falling. “He was. She did not survive the siege on Kattegat, and I regret it every day.” 

Harald chuckled a little. “So tell me, how did a Christian woman leave Wessex and become the wife of a Heathen king?” he questioned. She rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you one day, if you survive this,” she said. “For now, I will let you wonder. But know this-” She paused to crouch down in front of him. “-if you speak a word of what I have said here, of my being here at all, I will come to you in the night and cut your throat open. I’ve done it before. I fought at the Siege of Kattegat, defended Ivar with my own life, and sacrificed the lives of others for his. If you think I would flinch at spilling your blood, you fool yourself. The only reason I don’t do so now, in recompense for the life of my friend, is so Oleg has no reason to distrust me. Do I make myself clear?”

“As ice,” Harald replied with a chuckle. His amusement further angered her, and she stood with a huff.

“I’m going now,” she said. “I look forward to seeing you rot.” With that, she turned away, and started for the door.

But, it was then that Olaf spoke up again, and the sound of his voice made her pause. “There is pain in you, child,” he said. “So much pain… and it shows itself in your anger.”

“What do you know of my pain?” Asta hissed, turning her head back just slightly over her shoulder- not really looking at him, but directing her voice in his direction.

“Oh, I know nothing of your pain, not unless you tell me,” Olaf conceded without hesitation. “So why don’t you tell me? I am going to die after all. Who could I tell?”

“I won’t air my dirty laundry out in front of him, I don’t think. He isn’t going to die, not so far as Oleg is concerned. I don’t want a reason to have to kill him,” she countered.

“Not even if he had to face the full of what he had done to you? Or if it meant he would have to live with knowing that?” Olaf pointed out. She began to consider.

What was, truly, the worst that could happen? When Olaf died, Harald would be the only one in that room who heard what she confessed, and it would be his word against hers, Ivar’s, and Hvitserk’s, as she knew they would never give her away. But what good was it to tell Olaf anyway? To get another opinion? To talk it out and understand it better for herself? She wasn’t sure, and yet her mouth opened anyway, and she spoke. 

“My family are dead,” she said. “My mother, my father, the father whose blood runs through my veins, my brother, even some of those friends I consider just as close as brothers and sisters. Björn Ironside is dead. Lagertha is dead. I haven’t heard about Ubbe or Torvi since I left Wessex so long ago. Heahmund, the warrior bishop? Dead. I don’t know if my brother Alfred still lives, because he doesn’t know where I am to reach me. And Freydís, the woman I have loved more than any in this world, is dead. So shall we do a little head count of who I do still have? I have Hvitserk, who is now as much a brother to me as any brother I have ever known, and I have Ivar, who has been the cause of much of this pain, and yet who I still will never sacrifice. I don’t count anyone else in this place to be someone I truly have, because I know one day I will leave it behind. But Hvitserk and Ivar? Lord, I could never. So there it is, and still, you do not know my pain; you haven’t been the one to bear it.”

“It’s no wonder you are so angry,” Olaf said. “Your life is… changed, in ways you never could have imagined it would. But you have strong faith, to still walk this path. Faith in what?” 

Asta finally looked at him, turning her body so that she was facing him fully once more. “In God,” she replied. The words almost shook her to her core, as if waking some long quieted part of her being. For so long now she had pretended to be Viking, to follow their gods, that to confess this to someone aloud… she almost feared the consequences. 

Olaf smiled at her. “Then you must trust Him,” he said. “You have not suffered for no reason, Princess. For He knows the plans He has for you.”

She felt stunned, blinking a few times as she registered Olaf’s words, and then she began to back away just slightly. “I should go,” she said. “I need to be alone.”

Asta gave Olaf no further opportunity to reply, nor did she say a word to Harald, before she was almost rushing out of the room, where she found Hvitserk still waiting for her. “Princess?” he greeted. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I need to think on some things.”

Hvitserk nodded slowly, though he had to walk quickly if he wanted to keep up with her. “What things?” he asked her. She stopped suddenly to look up at him, and the anxiety he saw reflected in her eyes gave him pause. He didn’t know the last time he had seen her look like this, which shook him up quite a bit. “Princess?” he prompted again.

“I don’t think I can keep the lies up for any longer,” she confessed.

Hvitserk swallowed hard. “We need to see Ivar,” he replied, letting out a long, slow breath. He waited on her to give a little nod, anything to confirm she was alright with that, and then wrapped an arm around her to support her as he started to walk them back to his brother. He would know what to do. When did he not?

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @sylki-simp, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @kingniazx, @dekusdante

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#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x original female character #ivar x christian!oc #ivar's heathen army #alex hogh andersen #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter forty-one

[aissa-snapped]

The heathen and the christian part three

Word count : 2.7k words

Pairings: Ivar x OC

Summary: When Frigyth disobeyes Ivar's rules, consequences follow along, making her wish she had listened to him in the first place. 

Warnings: smut, rape, non-con

Requested by @youbloodymadgenius and others

Frigyth returned to Ivar`s chambers, sobbing uncontrollably, only thinking of what would follow next. She could only pray and hope that whatever Ivar decided to do to her, she could take it. Considering the state he was in at the current moment, - drunk from all that mead-, it meant he was not aware of his own actions. She has had enough negative experiences with drunken men in her hometown, instances in which she was almost raped.

Taking careful steps towards her tiny bed sat in the corner of the room, she took a seat, rocking back and forth in a stressful manner. It felt like centuries until she finally heard the door crack open, and a very wasted Ivar entering the room, with two other slaves helping him stand on his feet, preventing him from falling.

Standing up abruptly, she watched with careful eyes the way he was brought in by the servants, and eventually placed as softly as they could on the bed. Frigyth hoped he was knocked out, and maybe tomorrow he will have forgotten the whole situation, but it seemed this was not the case, for he waved a dismissive hand at the two fearful girls, in a ` leave now` motion.

Once the door was shut closed, there remained the two, in a deadly silence in which only his heavy breaths and her shaky ones were audible. Ivar, who had been recently sitting with his back on the bed, was now standing upright, staring at the girl shamelessly. With a low chuckle and a head shake, he rubbed his chin.

'' What you did there...'' He trailed off, creating a suspenseful moment. '' I warned you. Many times. I took your side in front of the other SERVANTS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! YOU MADE A FOOL OUT OF ME IN FRONT OF THE OTHERS.'' Yelling with all his might, it felt as if he was sobering up quickly.

'' I- I don`t understand what I`ve done wrong. I was taken by surprise and you scared me.'' The poor girl explained herself, gesturing with shaky hands.

'' The other men who have slaves... They do whatever they want to them. If they so wish, they can fill them up right there in front of the others. ME?! I was just being nice and I suppose that was my mistake. I am tired now... But from tomorrow onwards... Oh you have no idea what I have prepared for you. '' He warned lowly, projecting fear upon the maiden.

'' TAKE THESE OFF NOW.'' He motioned to his leg braces, and in a heartbeat, Frigyth was crouching and untying the heavy pieces, placing them next to her master`s bed. Once he positioned himself nice and comfy in the bed, he fell asleep in a breath, whilst the red headed girl was struggling to stop her mind from overthinking and going over all possible scenarios of what would happen the next day.

The passing weeks have been as close to a real hell as possible. Ivar was no longer the somewhat sweet and protective boy he was the first days they`ve met, but rather became a horrific master. Frigyth had been tasked with helping around the kitchens, and the garden, so that much decency was still left inside him since he did not make her whore herself to random men -unlike Berwyn, who, as a punishment was kept as a sex slave for her master and his friends-.

Ivar did not in fact try anything with her anymore, keeping his distance from her. They would meet first thing in the morning and last night at night, when she would prepare a bath for him and remove his braces, though she never saw him naked because she was ordered to leave, which she was grateful for.

The distance the king has put between her and his slave seemed to have unlocked a new opportunity for his other brother to befriend the shy christian. Hvitserk has been taking slow steps towards approaching and eventually converse with her, without the girl backing away in shyness. Besides the language barrier, though Hvitserk did know a little of her language, they were inexplicably becoming closer and closer.

So much so that when Hvitserk was having one of his usual affairs with some servant, he came to the conclusion that he wished it was Frigyth instead. But he had to remain focused and remember that if he does one wrong move, he would lose all the progress he had made so far.

Though Ivar was not as watchful over his property as he was the first time he brought her here, that did not mean that Hvitserk`s advances went unnoticed by him. And if there was one thing the whole world knew about Ivar, especially his brothers, was that he NEVER shared.

Afraid Frigyth might end up liking Hvitserk more than him - not that she liked him now after he acted so cruel- he decided it was time to take action. So that very night when he was retiring to his chambers, with her behind him, once they were behind closed doors, he waited for her to do he routinely crouch down to free his legs from the braces, and similar to a hawk catching its prey between its sharp talons, he swiftly gripped her neck with one hand, taking her by surprise. She gasped for air, placing both her hands above his, in hopes she could get him to let go, but she stood no chance against his physical strength.

'' So. I see you have been getting close to my brother hmm?'' Eyes wide open, he was studying every inch of her face, as if ready to yell at her in case she would lie.

'' We are not cl-close. He is just n-nice to me.'' She whispered, being left breathless when he squeezed her throat and restricted the air flow.

'' Mhm. I see. How about this. You will ignore him and if I see you talking to him, I will hang you BOTH.'' He spat, eventually releasing her from his grip, and pushing her forcefully backwards, so that she ended up on her butt , supporting her weight on the palms.

Quickly standing up, she nodded at him obediently and went to bed as well.

The following days proved to be even more difficult. Ivar was watching over Frigyth every second, and whenever Hvitserk came by to chat with her, she tensed up, looking subtly at Ivar through her lashes making sure he was not marching over to them.

As for the older brother, he was confused as to what was going on. He coulnd`t get the Christian girl to talk, and even more, she would ignore him and turn her back towards him when he approached her. All this made him feel confused, sad and angry. He wanted answers.

So when in a seldom occasion he found the girl walking with a basket towards the stables, he jogged up to her and stopped her dead in her tracks.

'' Why aren`t you speaking to me anymore?'' He asked sadly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Sighing, she dropped her empty basket on the ground and crossed her arms. Looking around alarmingly, ensuring that the king was not around, she turned to look at Hvitserk for the first time in days.

'' Well... It`s... Ugh. I am scared to say it.'' She admitted nervously, fidgeting with her collar.

The young Viking placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. The small gesture calmed her a tiny bit, but nonetheless she was unsure if she should tell him.

'' Say it. It is all right, I promise.''

'' I-... It`s I-Ivar.''

Hvitserk dropped his hands in a second, staring at her with a look of anger and she couldn`t tell if it was towards her or his brother, but she hoped for the latter.

'' Ivar told me to stop talking t-to you otherwise he will k-kill us.'' She sobbed softly, not able to contain her sadness at the restrictions she was obliged to obey.

It was as if a literal demon took possession of him and channeled its hell-like fury through the Viking as he turned red, squeezing his fists as hard as he could, but he stopped immediately once he saw how terrified the girl looked.

Gaping at him, she started shaking her head. '' I shouldn't have told you. Now we`ll both burn at the stake.'' And with that, she started weeping as if her fate has already been determined by the gods and there was no escape.

'' No no. Calm down please. PLEASE LISTEN.'' Gripping her forearms strongly, he stopped her from shaking and walking like a mad person, and assured her that he was not going to tell Ivar a thing.

'' How about this... We can`t talk when Ivar is around, but he can`t do anything to us if he doesn`t see us.'' And so Hvisterk, as desperate as he was, proposed to her that they should meet up after dark behind the sables, where it was guaranteed they were to be left alone and more importantly, hidden from Ivar`s possessive eyes.

Although it was risky, sneaking behind Ivar`s back, Frigyth had had about enough of her life as a slave as it was, and if she was going to spend her life here, she might have as well enjoyed it.

The little rendezvous turned into others and soon, they were meeting up almost every night. The first time it was really scary. Frigyth had to wait for Ivar to fall asleep so that she could escape the chambers, and it was not wasy. He was a light sleeper, so any slight movement awoke him. But she eventually made it and got used to this new routine.

'' You were so beautiful today. In that dress.'' Hvitserk complimented her, giving her a look of lust, which low-key made Frigyth feel a bit uneasy, but it was a normal occurrence to see him staring at her with those 'manly' looks.

'' Hvitserk, I wear the same dress everyday.'' She giggled softly, blushing at his compliment.

'' Of course but today ... It had something special about it. You.. Smelled different.'' He got close to her face, sniffling her hair and groaning afterwads. This action made the girl put some distance in between them, but Hvitserk clearly was not getting the message and with his hand, he started rubbing her back, tracing over places he`d been waiting weeks now to touch.

Trapping her with his strong muscular arms, he was now hovering over her, pushing her backwards into the soft grass, so that she was now laying on her back, powerless.

'' Hvitserk, what are you-'' He started kissing her neck, biting softly from place to place. Squirming and attempting to move his head away, her scrawny arms were no match for the warrior.

He was now trailing kisses down to her chest, which was only covered by the thin linen dress all slaves were wearing.

'' St- STOP'' But he was not listening. He kept going lower, and lower, in spite of the girl flailing her arms and legs hoping they would hit him and make him stop.

Hvitserk started simultaneously rubbing his clothed crotch against her still covered womanhood, grunting in pleasure.

Frigyth was mortified. As much as she wanted to make him stop, she was slowly realizing what was about to happen to her, and she froze on the spot. It felt as if she was laying on that grass lifeless, experiencing an out of body moment.

The Viking was now pulling her dress up, and with that left energy she had, she used the palm of her hand to move his head away from her, this resulting in angering him even more and with one strong hand, he gripped both her wrists pinning them down above her head.

Resuming his previous actions with only one free hand, he rode up her dress, now her private parts fully exposed to his hungry eyes. Frigyth had never felt more vulnerable or scared in her life.

Jerking when she felt contact with her sensitive skin, Hvitserk was rubbing her entrance up and down, licking his lips in excitement .

'' I have been waiting for this for so long. And finally...'' He trailed off happily.

Frigyth, with tears in her eyes, was looking at the stars, trying to distract herself from what was about to happen, though it was pretty difficult to ignore the sensation of something soft and wet touching her most intimate part of the body. Glancing down fearfully, she observed how the Viking was with his head between her thighs, toying with her using his tongue.

The feeling was inexplicable. Her body reacted to his actions, as if enjoying it, but her mind reminded her rationally that this was not a pleasurable experience.

'' Pl-please stop.'' She implored with a cracked voice, but Hvitserk had stopped paying attention to what she was saying a long time ago, for now he was taking out his penis, Jerking it quickly. Once it was well erected, he did not hesitate to enter her womanhood with a force that made her scream in pain.

It felt like nothing she had ever experienced. And for the next few minutes, he kept plunging into her over and over, ignoring her desperate cries of pain.

Frigyth returned to her chambers swiftly, stumbling upon anything, since her legs wouldn`t stop shaking. Everything hurt. Her body, her mind and her soul. She was slowly starting to comprehend what had happened, and the more she was remembering, the worse she was feeling.

Fearfully, she entered the room, stumbling upon the table, making a loud sound that had the tyrant king alert in seconds.

'' WHO`S THERE?!''

Jerking from his bed with his dagger at ready, he scanned the room for the intruder, only to find his little slave in the middle of the room, with red tear stained eyes, shaky legs, and her dress slightly coated in drops of blood.

His eyes went immediately from a bloody cruel warrior to a worried and protective stance.

'' What happened to you?'' He asked quickly, scanning her whole disheveled attire and already plotting someone's murder.

Frigyth tried speaking, but it felt as if her vocal cords were unable to reproduce the sounds. Her body was not cooperative and held her back from spilling his name.

Ivar was running out of patience, and now was starting to add the pieces together. Blood stains on the lower part of the dress, shaky body, and now that he was inspecting the girl closely he could see freshly formed bruises all over her neck, it all added up.

As the realization hit him, he knew it was about a WHO not a WHAT.

'' Who.did.this.to.you?'' He asked in a dangerously low voice, cracking her knuckles and neck, as if he was ready to attack the harasser right in the dead of the night.

Frigyth`s mind was twisted and warped. She didn`t know how Ivar would react had she told him it was Hvitserk. After all, he did forbid her from talking to him, and she disobeyed and this was her punishment from God, she was sure.

Ivar could tell the girl was too traumatized to speak at all, so for the sake of her, he dropped his dagger from his hand, and sighing, he motioned for the girl to come closer to him. She obliged, but fearfully so, the previous experience still fresh in her mind. Ivar made space for her, and wordlessly invited her to sleep next to him in bed.

Tucking herself under the heavy duvet, a sudden feeling of warmth engulfed her previously frozen and terrorized body, allowing her to relax a little. With her back towards Ivar, she moved the farthest she could go without falling on the floor, and curled her body, bringing her knees to her chest, eventually falling asleep like that.

Ivar however, was laying wide awake on his back, occasionally glancing at the girl and catching himself off guard by smiling at her when he heard her soft breaths, knowing she felt safe enough to fall asleep next to him. Not resisting the temptation, he moved his body closer to hers, just enough so that he could drop a protective arm around he torso, and rub her stomach softly.

He was going to find out eventually who touched her and when he did, he was ready to torture the man to death.

#ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar #ivar the boneless x oc #ivar the boneless x reader #tw noncon #smut #fluff #comfort

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 17 summary: The real work begins.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1831

Notes: This is it! Thanks to all for the likes, reblogs, comments...every single one is appreciated <3

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare @danisnotsosecret @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou

CHAPTER 17: Strange things happened

“Well, this is unexpected news,” Ecbert remarked over breakfast to his granddaughter and her husband. “You’re absolutely certain you consummated the marriage?”

Aldreda and Ivar glanced at each other and then looked away, both turning red. Ivar cleared his throat. “You did instruct me, King Ecbert.”

“So I did,” he said. It still seemed rather unlikely. He glanced at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who was rubbing his eyes blearily as Ubbe leaned over to whisper something in his ear. For once, the Northman seemed significantly more hungover than Ecbert after a late night of drinking, discussion, and sundry other activities. Ragnar briefly met his eyes and then slumped down in his seat, tilting his head back. 

“Aldreda,” Ecbert addressed his granddaughter. “Is this true? Lying is a sin.”

“Father…” Aethelwulf complained, gesturing around the table at Aethelred and Alfred, who both were staring very intently at their porridge. “This is hardly an appropriate place to discuss such matters. The children are present.”

Ecbert brushed him aside. “We’re all family here, and besides, the boys will be married eventually and so they should learn now what will be expected of them.” He turned once again to his granddaughter. “Well, Aldreda?”

She blushed and looked away. “It’s true.”

Ecbert considered the pair for a moment, toying idly with his spoon. “Until very recently, neither of you were forthcoming about the status of your marriage. Are we to believe you now? Shall Ragnar Lothbrok and I stake our alliance on your word alone?”

Ivar and Aldreda were quiet, neither daring to even look at each other. Ragnar, though obviously still nursing a severe headache, let out a humorless chuckle and whispered something in Ubbe’s ear. Ubbe snorted in response.

As the silence stretched on, Judith finally cleared her throat. All eyes turned in her direction. “If the marriage has been consummated as they say, it does save the archbishop some paperwork, and the trouble of having to organize a second wedding,” she observed. “No expense was spared for the first wedding, and it would look rather poor to our allies for Aldreda to have to wear the same wedding dress twice in two months.”

“A good point,” Ecbert concurred. “But the validity of Ivar and Aldreda’s marriage should not be subject to doubt. Not in the eyes of our allies nor anyone else.”

“There will only be doubts about the marriage if those of us inside this room allow it,” Aethelwulf argued. He set his spoon down firmly on the table and shook his head. “Judith is correct. Father, your own judgment will be in question if the marriage is disrupted under such circumstances, especially since Aldreda and Ivar both claim it was consummated and they no longer wish to seek an annulment.”

Ecbert looked from Aethelwulf to Judith and back at Aethelwulf again, mildly surprised. It was rare for the two of them to be in agreement. He stirred his porridge thoughtfully, smashing the lumps against the side of the bowl. “I will take your point into consideration,” he said. “However, this matter equally concerns Ragnar, as it affects both of his sons.”

Ragnar, who had quietly been conveying the details of the conversation to Ubbe, finally straightened up with a skeptical expression on his face. Ubbe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at his younger brother with raised eyebrows. “Come on, Ivar,” Ubbe said in Norse as Ecbert turned his head and pretended to not understand. “You didn’t really do it. Somehow you convinced her to go along with this.”

Ivar rolled his eyes. “I didn’t convince her of anything.”

Ragnar scoffed. “Oh, something was agreed to,” he said to his sons in his own language. “But I don’t think Ivar was the one doing the convincing.” Having turned his head too quickly, he winced and rubbed his temples, and then lowered his forehead to rest on the table.

“There’s something else,” Aldreda spoke up in the silence that followed. “Ivar misses his home, and I would like to see Kattegat. With your permission, we would like to arrange for both of us to return there with his father and brother, for at least a year or two.”

Aethelwulf looked up sharply. “Aldreda…”

“I want to see the world outside of Wessex, Father,” she explained. She glanced at Ivar with a small smile. “And I will not be alone. This is what both of us want.”

Ecbert studied the conflicted expression on his son’s face—pride and doubt and fear. Just over a month ago, Aethelwulf had objected to his daughter even traveling to Mercia. Kattegat was considerably farther away, and not even a Christian kingdom. But finally, Aethelwulf nodded reluctantly. “One year,” he insisted, looking from his daughter to Ivar. “You have my blessing. I trust you will take care of each other.”

Aldreda beamed at him and turned to look at Ecbert. “Grandfather?” she asked in a small voice.

“Hm.” He looked from Ivar and Aldreda, both with anxious yet hopeful expressions on their faces. It was more than saving the archbishop paperwork or the expense of another wedding on Ecbert’s mind, of course: it had not escaped him that it could be very useful indeed to have one of his own in Kattegat to ensure that the terms of the trade deal were being followed and who could reliably report back on other matters concerning the Northmen. And although Aldreda was young, her word would still hold authority as his granddaughter and representative. Perhaps it was time to put her to the test.

“The marriage will not be annulled,” he said at last. “Indeed, any such suggestion that an annulment had ever been considered will be dismissed as baseless rumor. I will also allow one year to be spent in Kattegat. If my friend and ally Ragnar Lothbrok is satisfied with this resolution, then so am I.”

Ragnar shrugged and fixed his gaze on his son. Some silent communication passed between the two of them. Ragnar looked away first and sighed. “I am satisfied.”

A huge grin spread across Ivar’s face, and Aldreda clapped a hand over her mouth as though she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Around the table, the boys were giggling, Judith and Aethelwulf were looking at each other with surprising warmth, and even the skepticism on Ubbe and Ragnar’s faces was beginning to ease. Ecbert tapped the side of his bowl with his spoon and raised his voice.

“Well, that’s all settled, then,” he concluded. “Everyone, finish your porridge; we have much to make ready.”

Despite his order, nobody else was paying much attention to breakfast at that point, least of all Ivar and Aldreda, who still looked rather dazed by the turn of events. Ecbert shook his head, smiled to himself, and dug back into his porridge: the two didn’t realize it yet, but now the real work was about to begin.

                                                            **

It took several weeks of preparation, but at last, everything that needed arranging had been arranged, Ivar and Aldredea had said their farewells, the carriage was packed to the brim with Aldreda’s trunks, and they were on their way to the coast. With Ubbe and Ragnar going ahead of them on horseback, that left Ivar and Aldreda crammed in together in the carriage and practically sitting on top of each other. 

“Why do you need to bring so many clothes?” Ivar complained as he wiggled around in the seat to try to get more comfortable, pushing her to the side with his body. “We could find you something to wear in Kattegat, you know.”

She pushed him back not very gently and stared at him as though he had just suggested that she travel to Kattegat naked. “They’re my clothes,” she said, sounding absolutely scandalized. “I need them.”

He rolled his eyes. “When I came to England, all I had with me were the clothes I was wearing.”

“Oh, I remember. You and your father were absolutely filthy the first time I saw you. Some of us have higher standards. Besides, I have to look my best when I meet your mother.”

He grinned and took her hand. “She’ll like you,” he said, and then backtracked. From the impression he had gotten from his father and Ubbe, his mother had not taken well to the idea of his marriage. “Well, maybe not right away. But eventually.”

“That’s why I have to make a good first impression,” she replied tartly.

He smiled and looked down at their intertwined hands. None of this still felt entirely real to him—that they were still married, that both of their families had agreed to it, that they were in a carriage headed to the coast and from there, to Kattegat. “What if they figure it out?” he asked quietly. “That we didn’t really...you know. Consummate the marriage.”

She squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter that much if they know or don’t know,” she reassured him. “They were willing to go along with it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“I guess not,” he said, still not entirely convinced. 

“The most important thing is that we’ll be together,” she said firmly. “Besides, we will be in Kattegat for an entire year. Who knows what will happen in that much time?”

“It’s enough time to make a pagan out of you,” he joked. “I can teach you how to sacrifice a goat. That would please my mother for sure.”

She smacked his shoulder with her free hand. “I’m sure there must be other ways I can please your mother.”

“Your father tried to make me learn about your bread god,” Ivar complained. “I think this is a fair trade.”

“You had to sit down one time with a priest to learn a prayer, and you didn’t even do that. That’s not the same thing as me sacrificing a goat,” she said dryly.

“Fine, no goats,” he agreed. He looked down, running his thumb along her palm, thinking back to the last time they had been together in a carriage like this. 

Aldreda rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just remembering the journey from Mercia back to Wessex,” he said. Aldreda had asked him to tell her about Kattegat. He had thought back then about what it would be like for him to take her to see his home and meet his family, and how impossible that had seemed. And something else had happened as well…

“Oh.” Aldreda blushed and sat up. She was obviously thinking about the same thing.

“You kissed me.”

She turned even redder, but she didn’t let go of his hand. After regarding him for a moment, she asked him shyly, “What if...we did it again?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So she kissed him and laughed, and to Ivar, her laugh sounded like joy, like hope, like the beginning of something wonderful.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

[aliceaddellheidde]

His Celtic girl

A/N: This one is for @youbloodymadgenius 1K celebration. It´s first time I´m doing something like that. I lost my grandfather and bunny while writing so I´m sorry if it sucks.

Prompts in bold.

WORDS: 4869

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, smut & violence (graphic), blood, swearing, death

PAIRING: Ivar x OC (Moko)

DISCLAIMERS: I tried to be historically accurate as much as possible. I don’t hate Christians. English isn´t my first language.

Moodboard by me; pics from internet.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Moko from Mokosh – Slavic goddess of fertility & water.

Ivar awakes from his long sleep. His head is hurting like Thor hit him with his hammer. He remembers fighting. Saxon's soldier with dagger. Hvitserk in tears. Grey sky. And then dark.

When he opens his eyes he sees wooden ceiling and small window on his left. „You are finally up.” says voice from his right with foreign accent and when he turns his head that way he sees young woman sitting on a chair by fire, mixing something in kettle. He tries to sit but agonizing pain stops him. „If I was you I wouldn't move. I bet your body still hurts.” It does but he will not tell it to that girl. With clenched teeth he pushes himself up, leaning against wall. „Who … ?” he tries to say - his throat dry, voice raspy. „Who are you?” he asks after few moments. „Moko.” She smiles a little, handing him cup. He watches it suspiciously before he takes it and drinks small gulps. „You have weird name.” he snorts. „Says nameless man whose I found on battle field almost dead. With no one around. Forgotten.” „I'm the king of the world! You stupid bitch knows      nothing!” he screams, throwing cup her way, his calmness turning into anger in mere seconds. „Don’t look like king to me.” she shrugs and turns to kettle again. He´s fuming, looking for something to throw at her. All he finds is fur over his legs. Fuck. Did she see them? „Why am I here anyway? You said I was dead. How I could be when I'm here, hm?” he asks with scorn. She said nothing. „Answer me! Where am I? Where is my brother!” He punches wooden bed under him. „I don’t know. My dog found you and I took you to my home. Now I think it was a mistake.” She was standing with hands on her hips. „I don’t need your help! I can take care of myself!” „Go then! I don’t give damn if you do!” she screams, stepping closer to him. He sees red. „At least I will not have to take care of crippled idiot!” He throws himself onto her but she just swiftly moves away from him, hand on sword. He almost screams from pain as his body hit the floor. Yet he stops    himself, spitting blood her way. Then he finally looks at her properly.

She is short, long dark hair falling to her waist, dressed in light yellow dress with golden armoured corset, belt around hips with few small pouches and sword scabbard. Her widen eyes watching him like falcon. He moves again and she unsheathes her weapon. ,,You are not gonna kill me.” he smirks. ,,No, but I can still hurt you.” They are watching each other for few more minutes before she puts sword away, takes cloth from table and cautiously sits next to him on the floor. He flinches when her hand moves to his face to wipe blood away. „Look, I took you here to take care of you. Once you are healed, you can leave. But until then it's better for you to stay with me.” She smiles when he lowers his head to avoid her gaze. ,,Ivar.” he whispers. ,,I'm sorry?” „My name is Ivar.” ,,You have weird name.” He only chuckled. ,,How about you take bath and I finish food? Then we can talk.” He looks at his useless legs and back at her. ,,Oh, I will give you some privacy.” She turns away with flushed face but he stops her. ,,Wait. I ... I need your help.” He already hates idea of her touching him or seeing him naked but he has no other choice. ,,So now you need my help?” she teases. ,,Shut up.”

She goes for water while he is looking around her home. There is big fire pit in the middle of room, on right side of room is wooden table with different knives, daggers, food, plates, bowls and cups. Next to it is longer lower table with wooden benches and flowers on it. On left side is his bed and then hutch with different herbs, flowers, books and bottles. Ivar never saw material like that.

„It´s glastos. Or how they call it here in Anglia – glass.” says Moko when she comes back with two buckets of water. „We are still in Wessex?” „Sussex. But I always wanted to travel around the world. Meet new people and try new things.” „So are you Christian then?” „Oh Gods, no!” she laughs. „You are not Viking either. Then what are you?” He watches her as she is moving around house. She takes few herbs and puts them into tub and then fills it with boiling water. „I'm from old Celtic tribe called Anartes. We lived in Europe. But one day my family decided that we should move and so we did. I lived here with my parents and brother. But they are all dead. And now it´s my purpose to keep our legacy alive. And what about you Ivar?” „I'm Viking.” „Rus´ Viking?” „No. I´m from Norway. How do you know about the Rus?” „My people had deals with them. We   exchanged animals, food and other stuff.” „Have you ever been in Kiev or Novgorod?” „No. But my father was there once.” „They are Christians now.” „Poor people. How do you know them?” „I had to r… . I travelled there with my friend. But then my brother came for me to fight king Alfred. We had some unfinished business.” „You were talking about you brothers in your dreams. Asking one of them for forgiveness. His name is Hvitserk. Am I right?” Ivar is quiet. „I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe they imprisoned him or he died.” „My brother is not dead!” he screams and she jumps a bit. „You don’t know that.” „I have to save him. Like he saved me.” „You are so stubborn! When I found you I thought you were dead but you were breathing still. I took care of you for three bloody days and you are still wounded. Yet you want to go to Winchester and be hero for your brother?” she wasn't screaming but she was angry. „That´s exactly what I want to do.” he half-smiled. „And how? You don’t have an army. You will never break through their defence.” His upper lip twitches in indignation because she is right. „I can´t leave him there. What would you do if it was your brother?” „Saved him.” „See?” „But not if I was hurt and with no warriors.” „Then we will find some.” „Ivar, these people are Christians and they love Alfred because he won over The great heathen army. They will never defraud him.” „We will see about it.” „In few days I´m  going to Chichester. I can ask if someone knows what happened to survived Vikings.” „I'll go with you.” She sighted and checked water temperature. „I have few conditions if you want to go with me.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „What do you want from me?” „You will sit on your arse and will not try to investigate on your own or try to kill anybody. Deal?” „Deal.” „Great. Now come and have a bath.”

„Earlier you said I´m crippled idiot. How did you know?” Ivar asks while he takes his tunic off. „Well, I had to take your braces off of your legs and I saw them.” He frowns at her. „Help me with trousers. But keep your eyes on my face.” he growls. „Is there a problem I saw them?” she asks as her small hands untie strand from around his hips. „They are hideous.” „I don’t really care about it.” Her brown-green eyes bore into his blue ones. „What do you care about then?” „If I and my animals will be healthy and if we will have enough food, water and home. And overall if I will have long, happy life.” „That´s so deep.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „Stop mocking me. I like simple life.” She helps him into tub, avoiding looking at him, gives him cloth and walk back to kettle. „Have you ever been with a man?” he asks suddenly. „Why?” „You are shy. Can´t even look at me when I´m naked. So I assumes you are still virgin.” he has wicked smile on his face. „That´s not something you need to know.” „Hm, maybe.” he smirks. „I also want to know what is all that.” He points on herbal hutch. „That´s my work. I´m making potions, herbal remedies and different things from it for other people.” „Clever girl.” „Yes, I´m.” She straightens her back and he laughs at her. „What did you put in bath?” „Lavender. You can make oil from it and eat it.” Ivar thoughtfully takes herb from water and bits a small bite. And second later she smacks his head. „Not from that dirty water! That´s    disgusting.” „I don’t like the taste anyway.” he frowns. „You didn’t try my lavender cake.” „I need proper food. Meat. Not some stupid cakes.” „It´s almost ready. Better wash your hair and come  eat.” When he goes out of the tub she hands him clean towel and clothes, averting looking at him again. „Virgin.” he murmurs for himself.

Over lunch – deer with plum sauce – they get to know each other. He tells her about his life, family and wars, hiding some details he´s ashamed of, and is pleasantly surprised how excited she is. „My parents taught me and my brother how to fight. My mother was warrior alongside my father.” „I usually had few my the most trustworthy warriors for my protection. I can´t really move on legs but in hand-to-hand combat I´m perfect.” „Maybe we can learn from one another.” „Maybe.”

After food Ivar meets all her animals and she shows him her gardens. Few metres from them is river with small boat. „It´s yours?” „Yes.” „It looks funny. I was on massive ones. My friend Floki built them. This one here is just joke.” „Ivar I swear that if you make any more stupid comments about my things I´ll leave you outside!” „Oh come on darling. You wouldn't do that. Not after your hard work.” He twirls slowly around his stick and bows. „You even put lavender oil into my hair.” He tosses his braids over shoulder. She laughs so much that she misses how he´s looking at her with goofy smile.

*few days later*

Ivar feels movement next to him and sits with dagger in hand. „It´s just me, you idiot.” says Moko, ruffling his hair on way down. „It´s still dark! Can´t we sleep a bit longer?” he shouts after her. „No. Today we´re going to Chichester so you better come for breakfast.”

In those couple of days he lived with Moko he learnt a lot about her, her people and culture. She was teaching him how to speak in her language, she showed him all her herbs and flowers and her knowledge in fighting, manufacture and farming. He wasn´t really fond of all of those things but he liked how excited she was when she was speaking about them or doing them. And if he tries those things too, oh gods, she even hugs him. It felt good.

Ivar is seating in covered carriage, petting her dog and listening to her singing. They travels for hours now with only one break and Ivar needs to sleep but he can´t. He somehow wants to protect her even when he doesn’t know why and how. „We will settle down here. Tomorrow morning we are in Chichester.” Her voice interrupts him from his thoughts. He looks out from carriage into darkening countryside. „Don´t just stare. Bring the chicken and make fire. If your puny regal ass can do that.” she smirks and starts to build a tent. Ivar is used to it by now, nonetheless he is surprised with how much ease she´s talking to him. He did what he could but that damn fire not and not to burst to life. „I thought you Vikings are fearful people and you can´t even make fire. Want some help?” He blames his shaking hands on cold not her presence. She makes fire in mere moments and then put kettle on it. „We will have chicken stew with vegetable and mushrooms. Is it ok?” He nods and watches with dilated pupils when she knocks off the poor bird. „It´s the last time I can have chicken or rabbit before Ostara.” „Then what?” „Bath in spring water, sacrifice hare and chicken but leave eggs for altar. We will have flower crowns and we will sow few seeds.” „Oh no, no. Leave me out of this. I will not have flowers in my hair.” „It will be fun.” „I doubt it.” „Shush and cut this please.”

Ivar sees stone towers and soldiers guarding big gate into Chichester. They are watching them suspiciously until Moko asks them for direction to market. „Don´t forget your name.” she warns him when she´s helping him out of carriage. „Leofric. I know.” he rolls his eyes. „Try to be more nice. Smile.” He turns to her and smile. Then smirks when she blushes. „I will find us room to sleep and you can put things on table. And leave your hood on.” „Gods woman! I´m not a child.” She giggles and walks away.

„We have room for three nights … Leofric, let him go!” Moko rushes to him and tries to separate him from another young man. „He tried to steal!” says Ivar. „I just wanted to see it better.” protests the other man, still with Ivar´s hand around neck. Moko smacks it and he growls at her but let go. „Thank you milady.” The other man tries to kiss her hand but she turns it palm up. „Return that bottle you stole. You may hurt yourself with it.” She waits few seconds and when nothing happens she jumps at poor man, turns his arm behind his back and yanks bottle from his hand. Ivar watches her with awe on his face. „Get off, idiot.” she spat at pathetic man and they both laugh when he runs away.

„That´s not funny Moko.” says Saxon soldier, walking to them. „Osgar, welcome.” „I see you keep up with tradition.” he snickers. „Every year someone tries something. They knows I can protect myself and my stuff but still.” „And you brought some friend.” He looks at Ivar sitting on stool. „That´s Leofric. I´m taking care of him.” „What happened?” „Bear in forest.” Ivar snorts. „I can say God is with him when he found the best healer in whole Anglia.” „Stop it Osgar!” Moko blushes again. „Rather tell me what happened after battle. Last time you didn’t have time.” „There is not much to say. We captured survivors and turned them into Christians. They live in their settlements. Our king trusts them.” „And you don’t?” He smirks. „I kind of envy those whose ran away. You knows my parents were Vikings, right? I live for day I will leave this land and will live like them.” he says quieter and looks around if someone hears him. „Adventurous Osgar. Any news about their kings?” „As far as I know Harald and Ivar are dead. But one son of Ragnar lives with Alfred in Winchester. I don’t know his real name. But his given one is Athelstan.” „Thank you. And what about your family?” „Good. My little girl is fighting with everyone and my wife isn´t very happy about it. My son still has mark on his face. He´s on guard now and I should replace him. See you later.” Day goes well, some of Moko´s customers comes and after sunset they goes to tavern for good night sleep.

„There is only one bed!” Ivar exclaims when they enter the bedroom. „Afraid of sleeping with me?” „What? No!” He puts their belongings on table, trying to calm down his too loud beating heart. „I'm going to have a bath. You will be ok here?” He nods. She disappeared behind the curtain  and he´s listening to her movements and noises she makes when she dives into warm water.

Moko feels water in the tub move. When she opens her eyes she sees Ivar sitting next to it. „What are you doing?” she squeaks. Ivar chuckles. „What does it look like? I have to wash as well. Or you want me dirty in bed?” She sinks more into water, only her head visible. He puts his hands into water again and his fingers brush her calf. She freezes and he smirks. „Your skin is so soft.” And she's blushing again. But both can play this game. „Will you wash my hair, please?” she asks innocently and his hand pauses in the middle of his face, eyes wide, shining. „Are you sure? I never done this.” Moko moves to him. „Please.” She turns her back to him and he clumsily takes her hair in one hand while the other is putting soap on it. Then he moves to her scalp. „That fells nice.” When he's done he smooths it on her back, his fingers lightly touching her skin. „Thank you. Give me a minute and you can go in as well.” She quickly rinses her head. „Close your eyes.” „Why?” „I have to go out and you can´t see me.” „I saw many naked women.” She glares at him over shoulder. „Fine.” But of course he cheated. He watches as she stands up and puts on linen tunic. After that she helps him in tub, she washes his hair and gives him his clothes.

„I said to the owner of this tavern that you are my husband.” says Moko nonchalantly when they are tuck in bed under warm duvet. „What!?” He sits up and frowns. „So we can have same room” ,,You are little minx.” he laughs and move closer to her. ,,What are you doing?” ,,Keeping us warm.” She turns her back to him, hiding her face into pillow. ,,Good night little minx.” he smiles into dark.

They wake up tangled at each other limbs. Moko tries to get up but Ivar´s arms around her are too strong. He nuzzles her hair and murmurs something. ,,Ivar, we have to go and sell otherwise we will have no money.” He groans when he opens his eyes. ,,I'll come later and brings you breakfast.” ,,You better be quick.” She kisses his cheek, throws her clothes on and she's gone. Ivar is still frozen on the bed processing what just happened.

,,I have bread, meat and wine.” ,,Oh, you are saviour! I'm starving.” He gives her plate with a cup on it. ,,Where is your food?” ,,I ate. Have only one hand free.” He waves with his right one and she grins at him. ,,Is it ok if you work until I finish?” ,,Sure.” He sells few pots and potions already when Osgar comes to them. ,,Hello you two.” ,,Good morning. Do you need something?” Moko asks. ,,Just to say you the news.” ,,What news?” ,,King Alfred will come here in five days to deal with Vikings in prison.” Moko sees Ivar stiffs. ,,Thank you. What do you think he will do to them?” ,,Probably gives them an option between conversion or death.” „And do you know if Viking´s prince will come too? I would like to see him.” He shrugs and goes back doing his work. „We need a plan how to get my brother and leave this stupid country.” „You don’t wanna kill       Alfred?” „Of course I want! But as you said, I need an army. I avenged death of my father on his grandfather and now I´ll avenge my own death on him.” „And rule Wessex?” „Maybe?” „Good luck then.” „You will not stay with me?” „I want to explore the world.” „If you will help me with Alfred I´ll give more treasure than you will ever need for fulfil your dream.” She looks at him sceptically. „Really?” „Word of the prince.” „I will think about it.”

„That one next to king on left is my brother Hvitserk.” Ivar whispers into her ear when Alfred comes to Chichester. „You remember our plan?” „Yes.”

They have to wait until next day but when Hvitserk comes to Moko´s stall she's nervous. He's handsome as Ivar but with lighter hair. They talk about different herbs for his problems and then she takes small dagger from her sleeve. „Prince Hvitserk, your brother Ivar wants you to have this.” „My brother is dead. I saw him fall in battle.” „I can assure you he's alive.” „How can I trust you?” „Because she's telling you the truth my brother.” says Ivar from shadow behind her. Hvitserk flinches a bit and can´t believe his eyes. „You are a witch! This is some stupid trick. My brother is dead!” „You see he's not.” Hvitserk slowly walks to Ivar and then he suddenly hugs him with teary eyes. „You fucking idiot! How comes gods saved you?” „They sent Moko. She took care of me.” Hvitserk looks at her and she smiles at him. „Nice to meet you.”

*month later in Winchester*

Ivar is excited all morning as helps Moko with selling. He sees men Hvitserk told him they are their allies when they walks around courtyard. They planned everything carefully. It took some time to collect enough men for attack to Winchester royal villa.

Once the night falls they moves. Quietly under veil of darkness their backups shoots guards on walls and at the gate and they are inside dim corridor. Hvitserk comes out from his hiding spot in kitchen with few warriors and silently they go forward to king´s chambers. His legs hurt and he's cursing on himself because Moko told him to rest during day but he didn’t listen. He sees her in the front of the group with plaited hair, sword ready for fight, serious look on painted face. Beautiful, clever and dangerous. That's what she is. Hvitserk is next to her eating something he stole from   kitchen.

Villa is suspiciously soundless and Ivar is suspicious. He feels it in his bones. It´s several minutes after they killed guards and until now they didn’t meet any more nor there was horn signal. For sure someone found bodies. But they have to do it. Even if it´s trap.

They reach their destination and Osgar goes first. The room is dark, only light from candles elucidate it. Ivar gives signal to his men and they encircle bed. Another signal and they are penetrating it with their swords. At same moment all other three doors of the room open and Alfred runs in with his soldiers, attacking mercilessly. Ivar watches as his warriors die one by one,        outnumbered. „Fight! Fight!” he screams, killing Saxons on his way to Alfred. Then everything freezes as he watches Moko moving between soldiers like air, sword and axe wet from their blood. One of Alfred´s bodyguards cuts her cheek and she stabs him in the neck, decapitating another one with other hand. Now she's face to face with king. What nobody awaits is Elsewith with sword assaulting Moko. English woman cuts her deep into hip when axe, thrown by Ivar, cuts through her back right after. His raging scream encourages his men. He assaults Alfred with blazing fury, maniac urge in the eyes. He effectively disarms young king, cuts his neck, fresh blood splashes him. Ivar throws himself onto Alfred stabbing him with all his power, shouting in old Norse, breathing heavy air with smell of sweat, dead bodies and taste of iron. Surviving Saxons watch in disbelieve and fear before they meet same fate from his fellow Vikings.

Things happens so quickly after that. One moment he is in king´s chamber, then he´s fighting his way from villa and in carriage fleeing into safety. He can feel adrenaline flows through his veins. Hvitserk sits opposite him, covered in blood too. They smile at each other. Moko´s next to him, patching her wound. „We did it.” he says victoriously and suddenly kisses her. She doesn’t protest and he's happy.

Following three months they are travelling and stealing all over Anglia. After that they build boats for way home. Night before their departure Ivar and Hvitserk are sitting by fire, enjoying peaceful quiet. „Will you go back to Norway or you´ll stay with Moko?” asks Hvitserk. „I don’t know what are you talking about brother. Of course I´m going with you!” „Are you sure Ivar? I see how you are looking at her.” Ivar glares at his laughing brother. „She doesn’t want to stay with me. She wants to travel.” „Then I´m gonna tell her i´ll accompanish her.” He turns to leave when a cup hits his head. „Don´t you dare!” Ivar screams. „Why not? She's free woman. Maybe I´ll ask her to marry me.” Hvitserk walks slowly backward with smirk, watching Ivar crawling on the ground as fast as he can to Moko´s tent.  

She walks out of it at same time as they show up. „Hello boys. Can I help you?” „Ivar wants to speak with you.” Hvitserk blurts out and Ivar hits him in the ankle. „Sure. I just need to get some food.” „I will get it. You two have fun.” „Come in then.” Moko smiles at Ivar.

„What you wanna talk about?” she asks, sitting next to him on bed. „Are you really sure you want to leave Anglia? And travel by yourself?” he asks straight away. „We spoke about it. I have small crew, you know.” „I know. It´s just … I don’t trust them that much. I would like to have you next to me more.” „As your friend, bodyguard or …?” „My right hand.” He looks at her. „And as my queen too, maybe?” She´s quietly staring at him and in next moment her lips are on his, her soft body collides with his hard one as they fall on bed.

His hands are on her hips, pushing her more and more against his prick. She takes off his tunic, her fingers grazing his tattoos. „You like them?” She nods and kisses him again. „Have you ever done this?” „No.” „Let me make you feel good then.” He is nervous like never before but also determined to do it right, to show her he really cares about her. His fingers are trembling when he unties her dress and takes it off. She tries to hide from his curious eyes but he catches her hands, kissing them and putting them next to her. „You are beautiful.” He kisses her whole shivering body until he reaches her warm core. When he looks back at her she's watching him already with flushed cheeks. They hold their gaze when his tongue touches her and she lifts a bit from bed. He's not  stopping her, only diving his head deeper. She's making those small noises he knew were good sign. „Ivar.” she moans his name. „I want more.” He hovers over her, kissing her. „If it hurts too much, you have to stop me, ok? I might not be able to control myself.” „Ok.” „Do you trust me?” „Yes.” He pushes slowly in her tight hole and kisses her tears away. „I'm sorry my Queen.” Her nails scratches his back, leaving bloody marks when he bottoms up. He waits few moments, then moves slowly, searching for any clues of her discomfort. None appears. She even smiles at him slightly. „Feels good?” „Yeah, it´s nice.” „Should I move faster, or is this fine?” „I have no idea!” she laughs. „You are the one with experiences.” „Yeah, right.” He nuzzle into her neck, his hips hitting hers as he quickens and she surprisingly pushes against him.

They are lost in their own pleasurable world, they didn’t even notice Hvitserk when he comes with food. He smirks proudly and walks away.

***

„I never thought I will love someone again but it happened.” Ivar smiles in Moko´s hair as they lies under warm furs, her head on his chest. „You love me?” „Yes. You have bewitched me, body and soul. My Celtic girl.” „I love you too Ivar.”

*next day*

A storm comes from nowhere and Moko´s watching as ship with Vikings is burning from     lightning strike. „Can´t we help them somehow?” „I'm sorry my love. They are probably all dead by now.” But much to his own surprise he can see some men jumping into the sea. „If I´ll die saving those idiots, I´m going to annoy you in Valhalla forever.” „And I will enjoy every second of it, my king. Now go and be a hero.” He kisses her briefly and then shuts orders. At the end they saves ten men but loose control over own boat.

***

„Land! Land!” Ivar hears shouting and stands up to see if it´s really true. „Not really how I imagined my travels but it´s still new land to explore.” Moko says next to him, hugging him. „Our new start my Queen.”

She turns in his embrace as they are looking towards their new adventures.

#Youbloodymadgenius1kCelebration #ivar #ivar the boneless #vikings #history vikings #hvitserk #imagine vikings #imagine ivar #vikings fanfic #ivar ragnarsson #his #celtic #girl

[allherdaydreams]

Valley of Kings — Prologue

Sigyn | And So It Begins

Universe: Vikings Pairing(s): None yet (there will be several later on, mainly Ivar x fem!OC) Word Count: 1,195 Warnings: Bad writing and mentions of the death of Angrboda Author’s Note: my first vikings fic!!! ahhh!! I really hope y’all like it, i know it’s not much and it’s not great but I hope to have the next chapter out by the end of the week and hopefully I’ll get my other fic started by then too. lemme know if y’all wanna be on a taglist and i’ll add you :)

The stories of the Gods were part of the way of life for my family. Ever since I can remember — and, likely, before that — my mother and father spent countless hours recounting the tales of the Old Ways. I spent a large part of my childhood cradled in my mother’s lap, surrounded by my brother, sister, and our friend, Ivar, as we would listen to my father’s animated retellings. He told us of Odin and Thor, Freyr and Freya, the creation of the Nine Realms and the soon-to-be Ragnarok, when the Gods would die and the Realms would end. Ragnarok was his favorite story to tell us. 

When my father was away on raids in the summers, my mother would take over the storytelling — she especially loved to tell us of Freya and her cats, who drew the Goddess’s chariot. Of all the Gods, I loved Freya the most, and it was because of this love that I begged for years to be allowed a cat. On our eighth birthday, my brother and I were gifted kittens — twins, just like us. My brother named his Tyr, for the bravest of the Gods; I called mine Muninn, for Odin’s raven of memory. I often pretended that, when he got back from his hunting trips, the little black kitten brought me knowledge of the goings-on in the lives of our neighbors and that, occasionally, he spied on Ivar’s older brothers. I believed he also brought me news of my sister, Angrboda, who had died a few years before. I always pictured her in Valhalla. Though she was not much older than me when she passed (she was the same age as Ivar’s brother, Sigurd), she has always been fully grown in my mind’s eye. 

In my dreams, Angrboda looks like my father; tall, thin, agile, and strong. She has the same prowling walk as him and my brother, the same eyes and the same hair — but her smile is my mother’s. When I was little, I decided she was a Valkyrie, one that Odin himself had assigned to watch over her younger siblings. I held onto that idea for the rest of my life, even if it wasn’t how the legends described the Valkyries. 

After her death, in the later years of my childhood, the story we always begged to hear was the life and death of Baldur — the story of Loki’s punishment, and of me and my brother’s namesakes, Vali and Sigyn. Sigyn, wife of Loki, who displayed the ultimate act of love and loyalty as she shielded Loki from the snake’s venom during his punishment. Vali, whose birth was for one purpose; to avenge his brother Baldur’s death, by killing Hodr and binding Loki. 

My father was an odd man with an odd sense of humor. I could never be sure why he had named his children how he did, but I often wondered if it was coincidence or fate.

“And so begins the Saga of Sigyn Flokisdottir and Vali the Reaper,” My father had once remarked, out of the blue, not so long after my sister had passed. My brother had been given the title “the Reaper'' just after he was born because Ivar’s mother, Queen Aslaug, had foreseen him to be a great warrior with an even greater fate. He would avenge not one death, but many. His name would be remembered for centuries to come, all throughout the world. 

I don’t have many memories of my life during that time when we were very young, around the time my sister left us, but I have since been told of how my father was given Loki’s punishment for killing a Christian. My mother, always gentle and steadfastly loyal, had readily taken on the role of Sigyn. 

What we never heard in the story of Baldur’s Death was that Loki’s eldest daughter would die while he was chained in the cave. But we did often hear afterwards, from my father, that “All things come to pass as the Gods will them.” Though my mother would always nod silently at this phrase, Vali and I knew she never truly recovered from losing our sister. 

Every day, my father prayed aloud and talked to the Gods. He made sure to include his children in his conversations, both by mentioning us and encouraging us to join in. We spent many formative spring days speaking to the Gods, learning how to pray and practice our religion and the ways of our people. My brother and I loved this season, when everything was new and our father did not yet have to go overseas to raid. As we became older, spring became Vali’s time with him as he helped our father design and bring to life his great longships. And while Vali learned the art of boatbuilding, I learned how to help my mother around our secluded land. 

We lived on the edge of Kattegat, with our house overlooking the water, the trees behind our home sheltering it from the bustling noise of the city. Ivar, the youngest prince of Kattegat, was my only close friend besides my brother. He pretended he didn’t like other people, who excluded and underestimated him because he was a cripple. It was easier for him that way: to pretend he hated them instead of acknowledging that he wished for their love. Similarly, I didn’t have other friends either, though I tried to make them, because I was odd to the other children. Ivar found me odd, too (“You are always in your head and never really here!”), but I cherished his company despite his blunt words and often mean temper. All through our childhood, we stayed by each other’s side; listening to my father’s stories and prayers; watching my brother and father build boats; keeping me company as I did the “women’s work”; following all of our brothers around the streets of Kattegat and the forests outside it as they grew up just before we did. 

As we got older, things began to change. I was still odd (I had only begun to grasp what it was to be ‘here,’ present in the world outside of my mind), but people began to pay more attention to me. Ivar was still an outcast, but he had become handsome and strong, refusing to fall behind his brothers in any way. My brother had become his own man, skilled and clever and confident. He remained good friends with Ivar’s older brothers, and though Ivar & I continuously tried to keep up, we were usually able to make peace with it just being us. And it was, usually, just us.

Slowly but surely, Ivar and I crawled our way out of our childhood. As it was with everything, we did it together, following the footsteps of our many brothers. 

As it had been told once to us: “And so begins The Saga of Sigyn Flokisdottir & Vali the Reaper,” — and, as it had been told many times to us: “Sigyn, destined for steadfast loyalty and acts of love; Vali, born to avenge the deaths of many, to kill and bind and be remembered.”

#vikings fanfic #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x oc #floki the boat builder #valley of kings saga

[youbloodymadgenius]

Unexpected (Modern!Ivar x reader x OC)

A/N: This is my contribution to @waiting4inspiration‘s Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge. Hope you’ll like it, hun 💖

Please, stay safe, it’s far from over. Last night, at 10:30pm, my eldest daughter's teacher called me. Two teachers positive. School (about 1000 kids) closed until further notice.

Prompt in bold.

@inforapound 💋

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

The gif (🤤) belongs to @therealcalicali 🌷

Summary: You're about to spend a quiet evening with your friend Vero when the doorbell rings. Ivar...

Warnings: Implied FxF sex ; implied threesome.

Words: 2229

You pull back from Veronica's embrace just as the doorbell rings and your friend gives you a questioning look. "Did you invite somebody?" 

 Shaking your head, you frown slightly, getting up off the couch. Handing her the remote, you sigh. "Might as well go see who it is."

 Squinting through the peephole, you let out a gasp of surprise before opening the door. "Ivar," you greet your unexpected visitor, "everything okay? What are you doing here?"

A sly smirk on his lips, Ivar shrugs. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thought I'd come to see you. This isn't a bad time, is it?" Raising an eyebrow, he points behind him with his thumb. "I can leave if you want me to. It's no big deal." He then tilts his head to one side as his eyes wander over your body. "Though it would be a shame…" He says cockily, glancing down again to your tiny shorts. 

 "Ivar!" Suddenly hyper aware you are basically standing in the hallway of your apartment building, half-naked, you turn beet red, fumbling with the bottom of your shirt and pulling it down in a fruitless attempt to hide your upper thighs. "You know I'm not alone, right?"

 As he just nods, you furrow your brows, an idea popping into your mind. "Did you get my letter?"

 §§§

 Ivar (Dear Ivar, My dear Ivar, I don't really know how to begin… You know what? I'll stick to 'Ivar', everything else sounds too weird!),

 I bet you're wondering why I'm writing to you. And if I know you, you're probably thinking it's so twenty-century-ish. You are right but guess what? I don't care.

 §§§

 Looking down at you with a wry smile on his face, he shrugs and takes out of his jacket pocket a sheet of paper, on which you can clearly see your neat handwriting. "It would seem so, don't you think?" 

 His amused tone does nothing to calm your nerves and you wince, your heart speeding up until you feel it pounding in your throat. "And?" Biting your lower lip, you hold your breath, waiting for his answer.

 "Well..,” he chuckles, "I'd say it's so twenty-century-ish."

 Rolling your eyes, you heave an exasperated sigh. "You know that's not what I meant." Ivar keeps quiet as he locks his sparkling eyes on yours and you can't help but insist. "Please, Ivar, tell me what you think. Seriously!" You cringe at your begging tone, a dead giveaway that his opinion matters more than you'd like.

 "You're no fun, Y/N!” Ivar pouts for one second, then seems to realize how tense you are. "I don't understand why you didn't tell me earlier,"he frowns, "but I'm glad you eventually did."

 "You're not mad?" That's really a load off your mind and you're immediately breathing better. 

 §§§

 I have something to tell you. Actually, I tried several times, but to no avail. Hope it'll be easier in writing…

 You know about my friend Veronica, right? She was my roommate during my Erasmus semester in Spain, five years ago. I told you she was coming to visit me this week. That part is true, but I wasn't completely honest with you. There's more to it…

 §§§

 Ivar's face softens as his hand grazes yours, your fingers intertwining for just one moment. "Why would I be?" Giving you a sweet smile, he cocks his head questioningly.

 "I… I thought that…" Sputtering, you inhale deeply. "I didn't tell you the whole truth, did I? I… thought you'd be upset…" Running nervously a hand through your hair, you look down, shy and uncomfortable. 

 §§§

 I know we're not in an exclusive relationship, yet I know what we promised each other. That's why I feel awful about that… Because of course, the longer I wait, the harder it gets…

 §§§

 For two years, Ivar had been your lover's younger brother. Hvitserk and Ivar got along well, but even though they were family, they didn't run in the same circles. Different friends, different interests. Actually, during those two years, Ivar was always with his fiancée, a very blond, very pretty and very venal fucking bitch you couldn't stand. Freydis. Even her name rubs you up the wrong way. 

 Anyway… So, for two years, you had only occasionally met Ivar, mostly at family gatherings. And then, ten months ago, both of your love lives had been shattered, almost simultaneously. As you randomly found out Hvitserk had never stopped sleeping with Margrethe – Ivar's and Hvitserk's older brother's wife – Ivar caught Freydis fucking the gardener of the Lothbrok's estate. It had brought you closer together, as you spent nights drinking, cursing your former lovers and crying over your broken dreams, each of you drowning in each other's sorrow. You ended up finding comfort in each other's presence, and one thing led to another, you began sleeping together, rarely at first, more regularly for a month or two. 

 From the beginning, things had been clear between the two of you. No exclusivity, no commitment, as you were both emotionally scarred and totally not ready. However, an important rule had been established from the start: no lies, no secrets, no dirty tricks. A complete transparence at all times, in order to preserve your friendship – yes, you had become friends – at all costs. 

 Ivar giggles. He fucking giggles. "Love, that's a tiny white lie, an omission, you know? I can live with that. What I don't get is, why were you so afraid of telling me?" No mischief in his eyes. Ivar seems genuinely curious, prepared to hear your answer, whatever it is. 

 Relieved yet a bit embarrassed, you bow your head, feeling suddenly childish. Why didn't you tell him? It's nothing to be ashamed of. Plus you didn't do – and are not doing – anything wrong. So yeah, why? "I'm… I'm not sure, Ivar. I suppose… I thought… Maybe…" Chewing on your cheek, you suck in a ragged breath while collecting your thoughts.  "I didn't know how you'd react. We never talked about… this kind of things, you know…"

 §§§

 Okay, here goes. When I met Veronica, I was single and so was she. We were young and carefree, always up for anything. Vero was bubbly, self-confident, straightforward and quite fascinating. And so, so beautiful. 

 I don't remember how it happened the first time.What I do remember, however, is the softness of her skin and the smooth roudness of her breasts. (How wonderful a woman’s breast is! Right, guess you know that.)

 After that first time, there were others. Many others. In the end, my Erasmus semester had been peppered with a lot of kissing, touching, caressing… And so much tenderness… That was fantastic. 

 From then on, whenever we see each other again, and as long as we're both single, we don't resist. Not a chance. Why should we?

 Well, here we are! Now you know my "big secret.” I didn't have the guts to say it in person, that's why I chose to write. Because even though you and I aren't really in a relationship – or not in that kind of relationship, and you know what I mean – we promised to be fully honest with each other, and I didn’t feel like I had been. 

 Because I never told you about Vero, or the fact that I'm bisexual. It's obviously what I am. Quite frankly, I don't know. Maybe. Possibly. Truthfully, I don't care. Labels shouldn't matter, don't you agree? To me at least, they don't.

 Anyway, now you know. Please, try to be understanding and non-judgemental. And forgive me for not saying anything earlier. I'll be glad to still be your friend, you know?

 Talk soon,

Y/N.

  §§§

 "We never talked about this kind of thing?” Ivar mumbles, repeating your words. "It would have been pointless. There was just nothing to talk about!" His nostrils flare and he clearly struggles to restrain a growing anger. "Fuck Y/N! I can't believe you think so little of me. It is well known that Sigurd fucks more men than women, isn't it? And I'm pretty sure my father was once in love with a man. A fucking Christian priest! You really thought I was that closed-minded that you playing stink fingers with a girl would shock me?"

 Quirking your brows, you shrug, wincing slightly. "I… Sorry Ivar… I thought… I don't know what… I… huh… I was… scared… or maybe… I… Shit!" Stopping your rambling, you pull yourself together, inhaling deeply while rubbing your sweaty palms up and down your bare thighs. "Guess I don't know you so well. After all, we sleep together and sling mud at our unfaithful exes, but that's it. There are a lot of things we've never talked about and yes, I was scared. Yet, I should have known better, you're probably right. I've been silly, haven't I?" 

 A half-smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. "Yes, you might say that." 

 You can see his face is still tense, but his tone, much to your relief, is playful, which gives you the courage to ask another question. "Still friends, then?"

 "Of course. I wouldn't be here otherwise." Reaching out, his right hand cups your face, his thumb stroking lightly your cheek. Ivar is sometimes so soft, it's disarming. 

 "I'm glad." You're not lying. Ivar is important to you, has a special place in your life. You would have been disappointed if he was less accepting. 

 Wrapping your fingers around his, you stand on your tippy toes, giving him a quick peck right under his cheekbone. "Thank you. And now…,” you clap your hands, your face breaking into a wide grin, "are you finally going to tell me what you're doing here?"

 "I will," Ivar begins before shifting his weight from one foot to the other still leaning heavily on his crutch, "but won't you let me in?" Gesturing to his legs, he groans, tilting his head. "Or are you going to leave the poor cripple on your doorstep? How rude!"

 You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes. "You know using your disability that way is a shame?" Still, you can't help but feel guilty when you see him stifling a wince, trying not to show his pain. "Okay Ivar, come in." Stepping aside to let him in, you scratch your head, confused. You still don't know what he's doing here. 

 ***

 The awkward small talk is unsettling. Frowning, you take your seat on the couch next to Veronica after getting Ivar a beer, who is now comfortably seated in an armchair. 

 "So, what is it you really want, Ivar?" You ask growing annoyed at this point. As much as you like him, you'd rather spend your night in Vero's arms than chitchatting with her and your current "bedfellow.”

 Ivar doesn't open his mouth for a long time, an impish smile lingers on his lips. Tilting his chin up, he finally clears his throat. "Kiss her." His hoarse, bossy voice – his sex voice – catches you off guard, sending shivers through your spine. "Excuse me?" You murmur, your hand gripping Vero's. 

 "That's what I want. That's why I came. Kiss her." As he suggestively licks his lips, your eyes widen, a familiar warmth spreading in your lower belly. Knowing that Vero is anything but bashful, you give her a meaningful look, pleased as you can see desire in her dark, dilated eyes. Immediately leaning forward, you brush your lips against hers, your tongue parting them almost instantaneously, invading and claiming her mouth. Soft moans escape your lips as Vero deepens the kiss and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

 "We can do better than that," Vero mutters, her teeth nibbling on your earlobe, "if he wants a show, we'll give him a show. It would be rude to deny him, don't you think?" Without waiting for your answer, she slips a hand under your shirt, gently pushing it up, running her fingertips over your breasts as you wrap your arm around her waist, bringing her closer. 

 Catching your attention, Ivar lets out a low, appreciative growl, his expression unreadable. He's aroused, the bulge in his pants is obvious, but does he want more? Remembering that time when you sent Vero a pic of him, and how she was screaming over the phone about how hot he was, you know she wouldn't mind. She wouldn't mind at all. 

 "Care to join us?" You blink at him, making sure he can see your fingers sliding under her panties. When he doesn't answer and looks unsure, a faint frown creasing his forehead, you slowly get off the couch, kissing Vero one last time and then cross the room. Kneeling down in front of him, you reach out, putting your hand on his groin and squeezing his hard cock. You can hear Vero stand up, "Yes Ivar, join us please.” You make sure you whisper so that only he can hear you. "I promise, you won't have to take your pants off if you don't want to."

 His nod brings a beaming smile to your face and you grab his hand as Veronica joins the two of you. Brimming with excitement, you lead them up to your bedroom, wordlessly, your heart hammering in your chest.

 This is unexpected and definitely not how you planned to spend the night. But you won't complain. It's a thousand times better.

 🛡⚔️🛡

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