nothingtolosebutweight · 21 hours ago
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Ivar & Floki - having fun killing Christians.
Blood doesn't make family, love does.
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ivarthebadbitch · 4 months ago
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Vikings + the major arcana
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thepaperpanda · 7 months ago
Arranged Marriage || Part II || Ivar x Female!OC
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Part I
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Summary: Growing closer to each other, Freya and Ivar begin to realize that their parents’ decision about marriage was not as bad as they thought. Ivar tries impossibly hard to appear as unapproachable viking to Freya, but he’s actually very charming, as for her liking. Ivar, however, begins to realize Freya wasn’t merely a whiny woman as he formerly thought. As a result of their marriage, their wedding night is quickly approaching.
Warnings: smut (if you’re a minor, don’t read!)
Words: 13,5k
Authors: Cass & Fenrir
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The morning came quickly. Too quickly as for Ivar's liking.
He woke up as the first one and discovered how beautiful and peaceful Freya looked while sleeping.
Ivar couldn't stop himself from reaching his palm to caress her rosy cheek.
After that, he got out of the bed and crawled back to his chamber, to not get caught so easily by her side.
Girl yawned loudly, hugging the fur she used to cover herself with, and growled loudly when she saw an empty spot next to her. He left? How could he leave her all alone?!
Freya growled loudly and then got up to her ready for the day by putting on her best dress, braiding her hair as beautifully as it was only possible and putting just enough makeup on.
Ivar was already present in the throne chamber, dressed in black tunica and black pants, with braces wrapped around his legs. He looked so fresh and happy. As soon as he spotted her, he raised his palm to greet her.
Freya huffed and looked away as soon as she noticed Ivar. Of course she was angry, he just left her alone when she was sure they finally had some connection. "Do you... Eat together in the morning? I used to do so with my family and I would like to talk to Ubbe."
"My dumbshit brother still sleeps. Yes, we do, mother is very strict about this." Ivar informed. "Freya, you look so beautiful."
"As I can see you are rude as always but thank you for miraculously kind words." She nodded, smoothing her dress.
"Beautiful and sweet as always." Ivar commented. "Why are you so unhappy today?"
"Oh, well. Let's see." Freya hummed, tapping her cheek. "I had a really pleasant evening with my soon-to-be husband. He was kind to me once but who would have thought he would be gone before I even woke up?" She growled.
"Okay, so what's the commotion about me getting up early? Listen, it takes me a while to get ready in the morning, especially when I have braces on." He raised his finger at his braces. Sweetheart, I need more time than you do. But I can't lie, you sleep so peacefully that I would love to stay with you longer."
Freya blushed but frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why didn't you? I wouldn't be mad, it would be really nice, actually, love."
"I told you why. I had to get ready for the day."
I could help you if you needed it, or at the very least, you could wake me up." She said, shrugging. "It wasn't enjoyable to wake up alone."
"I didn't want to disturb your sleep. You needed some proper rest after yesterday."
She sighed and walked to him, sighing. "Let it be but do not leave me like this." Freya suddenly touched his cheek, gently stroking it. "How are you feeling?" She asked.
Ivar almost hummed and leaned into her touch. "Yes... Good... Keep on..."
Freya kissed his forehead softly after stroking his cheek with her thumb.
Ivar murmured quietly but stopped when he noticed his mother standing nearby.
Aslaug smiled widely and said, "And just yesterday you claimed to snap the neck of a girl that will come here. She has you wrapped around her finger."
You blinked and looked at him, raising your eyebrow at the whole 'neck snapping' thing.
"Mother," Ivar greeted the queen and rolled his eyes at the woman's comment about Freya, "Don't jump to such conclusions. She's just being helpful to a cripple."
Freya blinked, surprised and frowned. She didn't just try to be kind to a cripple. All she wanted was to get closer to Ivar but apparently he had his own conclusions. She huffed angrily and simply walked away to find herself a free seat at the table.
The queen chuckled, nodding her head. "Of course. Keep thinking that."
Ivar offered his mother a glance.
Soon, Ubbe joined. "Good morning, dear family," he said, finishing braiding his long hair. "Freya," he greeted the girl. "How did you sleep?"
Freya smiled at Ubbed sweetly and nodded. "I slept very well. The bed was so nice and warm until morning. How was your night?"
"Good. As much as it can be when you share a chamber with the younger brother who snores."
Ivar giggled loudly.
"Oh... I am so sorry to hear that. I heard no snoring." Freya giggled, giving Ivar a short look before her attention returned to Ubbe. "So, are there any places I could visit today?"
Aslaug frowned. "Why would you leave the Great Hall? Are you bored with my son already?"
Girl shook her head. "None of that, my queen. I just want to know Kattegat better. After all I will stay here, also I want to do something interesting."
"I can show you our settlement," Ivar offered instantly, throwing cold glances to Ubbe, "If you want, of course. Unless you want to go with my brother. At least no one is going to laugh seeing the two of you."
Ubbe stopped with a chalice raised to his lips, his eyes falling on Ivar's face. He could see the anger in his little brother's eyes. "I can take her for a walk, it's not a problem."
Freya looked at Ubbe and then back at Ivar. Oh, how she wanted to mess with him a little longer. He looked cute when he got mad and probably jealous. But she decided not to tease him for now, there would still be time for this. Her grin was contagious. "I will stay with Ivar.”
Ivar smirked proudly. It cost him a lot to not say anything to Ubbe. The feeling was amazing; he won the small fight and it tasted like ale.
Freya smirked as well, seeing Ivar's happiness. Those blue eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Rest of the morning went quiet. Freya was nice to other brothers and Queen, simply talking with them. After breakfast Freya got up from her seat and walked to him. "Is the walk still a thing or you changed your mind?"
"No. I'll take you on a walk. Just I need to go get something so I need to ask you for a little more patience," Ivar replied.
Hvitserk raised his brows and muttered something to himself.
"What's that?" Ubbe asked, nudging his elbow into Hvitserk's side.
“A girl is dating a cripple."
Sigurd shrugged and said, "She is forced to do it, Hvitserk. Remember, she does it to please our mother and her own father." He predicted, "She will run away as soon as she can.".
Aslaug ignored her older sons, looking too intently at Ivar.
Ivar smiled, and Freya gently kissed his temples. "I'll just sit here with the Queen and wait for you. Take your time."
He nodded in agreement. After slowly getting up, he limped back to his room.
Ubbe glanced at their mother. "Are you happy, mama?" he asked.
"Yes, I am. Of course, I am. Ivar will have this lovely girl as his wife." She nodded. "You three aren't happy for your younger brother?"
The smile on Ubbe's face assured Aslaug that he was happy. He had never shown such politeness before.
Hvitserk, on the other hand, merely shrugged. It didn't matter to me.
Sgurd rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Ivar didn't deserve such a chance. He will hurt her. Just like he did to Margrethe. One of us should marry her. Even Bjørn could."
Freya blinked, staring at them. 'Margrethe? Hurt? Who was she?' She wondered.
Ubbe rolled his eyes as he looked at Sigurd. "Stop it!" He said.
Sigurd said, "You were the first to ridicule him for that. She ought to know what kind of man will be her husband."
Ubbe frowned, encouraging him to tell her. "I bet my right hand Ivar will try to rip off your head."
Sigurd nodded and turned to Freya. "As for someone with such a beautiful name and face you ended up with a boy that can't even..."
"Enough!” Aslaug almost yelled. "The three of you are done eating. So off you go, I bet there are thralls thirsty for your pricks." She growled.
The girl was completely confused as she sat there.
The fuss didn't escape Ivar's attention when he returned from his chamber. Is there anything I missed?" He asked, holding a thick bear fur in his hand.
After giving the other boys one last look, Aslaug shook her head, smiling at Ivar. "Nothing is as critical as you think. Ready for a walk?"
Sigurd was the only one to chuckle at the question.
Ivar's eyes instantly scanned the room and stopped on Sigurd. "Do you have a problem?"
"No, not really. I just feel bad for Freya. The walk with a cripple will be sad and humiliating." Sigurd commented looking at Ivar.
Freya was fed up with this stupid play. She rose from her seat and walked towards Sigurd.
"I am tired of you, I am tired of your comments. I don't know what your problem is. I will be Ivar's wife in the future while you'll keep on fucking random thralls."
As Ivar blinked, he took a seat at the table to process what he had just heard. "Freya, leave him, he won't understand." Ivar said slowly.
Older brother said, "You will have problems with him."
Girl snapped, "I don't care. For now, I only have a problem with you. So go get your prick wet because you apparently need this. Maybe some girl will think you are special thanks to those stupid eyes."
Sigurd frowned. "As you wish. Just don't come to us when he will try to strangle you in your bed." He muttered and left.
Freya let out a deep breath and smoothed her dress before smiling at Ivar. "Are you ready?"
Aslaug was of course taken aback by it all but as a good mother should; she simply observed.
Ivar got up slowly and looked at her. He nodded slowly. "Sure. If you still want."
Ubbe smiled at the girl and his brother and as soon as they left, he looked back at the queen. "I can't believe they're speaking so calmly.”
Aslaug nodded, admitting, "You see? Your youngest brother isn't as bad as you all think, boys. He just needs some love and I am more than sure that Freya will give it to him."
Hvitserk chuckled a little darkly. "But mom, you do realise you'll never have grandchildren if it comes to Ivar?"
"Perhaps the three of you will finally follow your brother's lead and take a step to find a real woman and give me grandchildren." Aslaug snapped and added, "Besides, you never know, he may have more children than all of you combined."
"Surely he will. Did you hear that from the Seer?"
"Just go already. Don't you two have stuff to do? Or fuck?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.
"Of course, ma." Hvitserk replied and got off the table to leave the Great Hall as well.
"Let's just hope Ivar will be good for her and won't hurt her." Aslaug sighed, looking at Ubbe.
"What can I say, mother? You know he's short tempered, just like you," he winked at her. "So, you said that you need some help with planning. What can I do for you?"
In the meantime, Ivar stopped outside the Great Hall and looked at her. "Wait, you can't go like that."
She looked at her dress and blinked as she gazed at him. "Is there something wrong with my dress? Shall I change? Maybe I braided my hair in the wrong way... I can change, no problem."
Ivar gave her a look, cocking his brow. He handled her bear fur in a dark brown colour, saying, "You'll get cold. Put it on."
Freya quickly shook her head. "No, honey. You will get cold... Last thing I want is for you to get sick and suffer more than you already do. I will be fine."
The fur was simply placed on her shoulders as Ivar shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm a warrior, I am never sick or weak."
With a nod of the head, Freya accepted the fur and tucked it properly around her shoulders, nuzzling to it gently. "So? What shall we do first?"
"Follow me," he gestured to her.
While walking down the sandy path, Ivar told her about the buildings they passed by.
As Freya tried to keep up with him, she followed him slowly. Everything he said sounded so interesting.
"Over there," he pointed north, "Is a place where my father fled, leaving us all behind." Ivar said.
Freya blinked, surprised at the sudden information. At this point she wasn't sure what to say. "Oh... How could a father do such a thing?"
"My father might be the most famous viking of them all, but he is nothing but a prick." Ivar told her with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
Freya nodded. "My father... Never left me. He always kept a watchful eye on me."
"Lucky you then." Ivar replied with his eyes stopped on the mountain on the horizon.
She gently touched his shoulder. "Let's go, Ivar. I am more than sure you want to show me more."
"Yes. I want you to meet a person who has a very special place in my heart," he informed the girl and gestured for her to follow. "Come on, come on."
Freya of course followed him. Her curiosity was piqued when she heard his words.
Ivar limped down the path.
Prince attracted a lot of attention from people, who stopped whatever they were doing to look at him and the girl by his side.
Upon seeing the couple, a few young girls started giggling and whispering to each other.
Ivar ignored them perfectly.
This didn't escape Freya's attention since it seriously pissed her off. Although Ivar wasn't ordinary, that didn't give anyone a right to laugh at him. Taking a look at the girls, she asked, "Hello! What's going on?".
One of them crossed her hands over her chest while whipping her hair. "Have not seen you before. We," she pointed at the girls gathered around her, "Aren't exactly sure who would accompany Ivar the Boneless. Especially if it's a girl."
Ivar stopped, looking back at you. "Freya. Come."
"At last, you are brave enough to speak openly." Freya frowned, crossing her arms over her chest as she spoke. "My name is Freya and I dare to walk with Ivar. Do you have any problem with that?”
The girl giggled, "I don't think so, but I think you do." She said, "I hope you know what his sweet nickname 'boneless' means."
"I don't really care what it means." Freya simply shrugged. "Is there anything else you want to say?"
Another girl raised her eyebrow, giving Ivar a mean glance. "He will not be able to satisfy you nor give you a child. Pity you, you have a pretty face. You should have gone after one of his brothers instead."
"I'm sure you already have. I wouldn't be surprised at all, since you look like a simple whore who would jump on any cock." Freya said, shrugging and joining Ivar. "Forgive me that I wasted our time on these girls. Let's go now."
Ivar looked at her a little angrily. "I told you to come earlier. Listen to me. And don't engage in unnecessary conversations."
She blinked and frowned. "So you will just let them whisper about you behind your back?!”
The subject was dropped when he said, "I don't want to discuss this." "It's not relevant. Leave it."
She followed him as he wished, rolling her eyes.
Ivar remained silent the entire time.
He stopped and offered her his arm as soon as they left the settlement.
Since Freya was more than certain that he was angry, this gesture surprised her. However, it made her smile because it was a positive sign. The offer was accepted, and Freya took his arm. "I'm scared of where you'll take me." She stated.
He told her, "We're going into the woods, so you'd better make sure you hold my arm." "The last thing we need is for you to fall into a bear nest or something. As a cripple, I wouldn't be able to save your beautiful ass if that happened.".
Holding on to him firmly, she laughed and shook her head. "Throughout my childhood, I spent a lot of time in the forest running around, but as you wish, I will stay close and hold on tight."
It felt comfortable already to feel her hands on him; her grasp was strong yet light.
They walked slowly through the woods, in silence.
Freya remained quiet so as not to disturb the silence. She just kept looking up at the trees and the clear sky above. At some point she wrapped some of the fur she was wearing around Ivar's figure as well, just to be sure he wouldn't get cold.
Ivar looked at her after she wrapped fur around him; in the end he offered her a little nod and a smile.
Her face enlightened by little sun rays falling from thick treetops was like a blessing; her beautiful blue eyes glinting with small sparks of excitement, her round, soft lips parted as she inhaled the cold, fresh air into her lungs, her rosy cheeks from the cold wind on her high cheeks. She looked like a goddess. Ivar began to believe she really was one of Æsir.
Freya placed a gentle kiss on his temple as she continued walking.
In this cold wind, the fur kept them both warm.
Even though there was silence during the walk, Freya really enjoyed it. Just being close to him made her happy. She was a bit confused when Ivar stopped. "What... Where are we?"
Ivar shouted, "You old, stinking brat! Where are you hiding your slimy ass?!"
The more Freya looked at him, the more confused she became
Ivar waited for the response, but there was none. He finally turned to his girl. "Come further."
Freya became concerned that Ivar had lost his mind. The area looked abandoned and he appeared to be acting as if someone was there.
Suddenly, a tall, older man appeared before them. He appeared out of nowhere, letting out a deep laugh. As if a stone had been thrown into a still pond, his laughter made ripples. Why does a cripple with a crooked face like yours hang out with women?
Ivar tilted his head a bit. "Since none of them want to waste their time on you." The young man replied with a mischievous grin on his face.
Freya almost jumped out of her skin when the man suddenly appeared in front of them.
In an instant, she hid behind Ivar and looked at the stranger over his shoulder. Girl didn't like this at all, at least it looked like Ivar knew him.
In the end, the older man offered Ivar a wink as he summarised, "So you found yourself a cute, jumpy creature." "I'd like to see her."
Ivar turned his head a tiny bit to look at her. "Don't worry. He's not dangerous. Not emotionally stable, that's true, but not dangerous in the least."
Freya frowned, looking at Ivar. Even though she wasn't so sure, she did what he asked since she kind of trusted him. The girl sighed and smoothed her dress before walking behind Ivar. "Hello there... Um... My name is Freya."
The older man looked at the girl curiously and said, "With your look, you're very winning. Freya it is." He hummed, smiling brightly at her.
Girl nodded. Her eyes focused on Ivar as she replied, "Yes, that is my name and thank you."
"Floki is my father from another mother, an old, stinky, bald wiseass." Ivar told her openly.
Freya blinked and then gasped loudly. "Floki? You mean that Floki? The finest boatbuilder there ever was?!”
Floki giggled loudly while nodding. "That's me, my beautiful Freya. Am I such a well-known and distinguished boatbuilder that my fame is few steps ahead of me?"
Freya jumped into place, clapping her hands a little in celebration. "Your boats brought Ragnar everywhere!" she said.
Floki glanced at Ivar once in a while while watching the girl. "She's lovely, you should marry her."
After looking at Ivar for a moment, Freye laughed nervously. "Well.... So... I think you will like the news that this will actually happen."
"News?" Floki asked as he sat on a thick branch of a fallen tree.
Freya looked at Ivar. "Are you even here with us?”
Ivar stared at Freya without blinking.
Floki said, "He just zoned out. With such a beautiful woman by his side, it is no surprise that he did that. You know, he is not good with women."
Ivar frowned and walked over to the girl. "You're not particularly adept with women, old fool." He added.
"Don't be so selfish, Ivar!" A spirited woman replied and soon Floki was joined by a blond girl. "How are you, by the way?” She asked and immediately walked to Freya to cup her cheeks. A woman looked at Floki and said, "She is so pretty. Did Ivar really bring her here?"
Freya was giggling uncontrollably.
"He did.” Floki giggled, looking after the woman. "They brought us some news."
As Ivar walked slowly towards Freya, he nodded. "She's going to become my wife."
Woman's gaze fell on Freya as she gasped. "Is that true?”
Freye smiled and nodded. "Y-Yes, that's true. It's our parents' decision but it will certainly happen."
"It's our decision as well," Ivar's hand rubbed small circles on Freya's waist. "And this lovely blonde is Helga, Floki's wife."
Freya raised an eyebrow and looked at Ivar with a soft smile. Then she smiled at Helga. "The following statements are true. Soon we'll be husband and wife." Freya nodded her head as a bright smile appeared on her lips.
Helga giggled and embraced Freya before hugging Ivar. "Look, Floki! We will have a delicious feast to attend soon."
Ivar corrected Helga, "The greatest of them all. You know my mother. She will do anything to make sure this day is remembered and talked about for years." Ivar glanced at his girl. "And this beautiful woman, she has already brightened up the entire settlement. I saw people looking at her, but is it too much to ask? She is like a goddess. It was as if Freya herself chose to honour us with her presence."
Helga said excitedly, "Oh, she'll look even more beautiful at the wedding. I'll help her get ready. Find a gorgeous dress, braid her hair, I'll make her a big flower crown!"
Freye smiled and nodded. "I would love that! Since my mother won't be here, this would be very kind!"
Ivar smiled as he let go of Freya's waist. After letting go, he watched both girls walk away, giggling and talking. Ivar loved that about his soon-to-be wife: she was very kind to everyone and spread a pleasant aura around herself.
The shoulders of Floki wrapped around Ivar. "Are you in love?" Floki asked. "Your face is flushed like that of a young shieldmaiden who has just seen her first real manhood."
The only response Ivar could muster was a roll of the eyes.
Freya walked with Helga, talking and chatting about the wedding and everything that needed to be prepared. It was nice to finally talk with someone who wasn't directly involved in this whole mess.
A man as big as a bear suddenly called out Helga's name. Once again, she hides behind her new friend.
Ivar's smirk was instantly wiped from his face when he saw Bjørn approaching.
"Ivar!" The man shouted, taking only two steps before he was standing in front of a cripple. "I came to find you on behalf of your mother."
Freya was taken back to Ivar and Floki by Helga. "Bjørn! It's good to see you as well." She said cheerfully.
The tall, blond viking man completely captivated Freye's attention. His appearance was the opposite of Ivar's.
Bjørn caught sight of her with the corner of his blue eye, and soon his full attention was drawn to her. "Who are you?"
Freya smoothed her dress nervously and smiled as she cleared her throat. "My name is Freya."
While he didn't try to hide the fact that he was checking her out, his eyes drifted up and down her body, inspecting every curve. "Bjørn Ironside." He introduced himself briefly. "It's my first time seeing you, but you can't possibly be a thrall. What are you doing here?"
Helga announced that Freya would soon be Ivar's wife.
Freye smiled and nodded her head. "That's true, I was brought here to become Ivar's wife. So I am not a thrall, you're more than right."
Bjørn laughed loudly, rolling his head back a bit. "Oh, you poor, helpless thing." He took one step closer to find himself in front of the girl. His palm was immediately placed on her cheek. "Such beauty is going to be wasted."
Freya nuzzled to his hand and sighed, shrugging just a little bit. "Honestly, I wasn't the one who made this decision. Father brought me here and said I should marry him."
A glance from Ivar could freeze everything in a blink of an eye, as he cocked his brows. "Freya, let's get back to the Great Hall." He growled.
Bjørn's thumb gently caressed the girl's cheek. "Look at you, you could have anyone, but you're stuck with the most disagreeable person. What a shame."
Once again, Ivar sounded cold when he repeated her name.
When she heard her name, she turned her attention to Ivar. She purred quietly at other man's touch but her attention quickly shifted to Ivar. Freya bit her lips and even if she didn't want to, she moved away from Bjørn to join Ivar.
Ivar grabbed her hand, thanked Helga and Floki, and started dragging Freya after him.
Bjørn spoke with Floki for a while, watching as his step brother walked away.
I-Ivar! You don't have to pull me! I can walk on my own. I am not a horse you need to lead." Freya said as she whimpered under the strength of his grip.
"What the hell was that, woman?" He yelled loudly as they walked along the path that brought them to Floki in the first place. His grasp never relaxed.
She growled, "What's your problem this time? He was just polite to me!"
"And of course you had to fall for these stupid, silly games. As a wife, you have to behave like one. You think I'm deaf and blind?" Ivar raised his tone.
As Freya struggled to free her hand from his grasp, she said, "He appears to know how to behave around women."
With a low growl, he let go of her hand and turned quickly to her. "Of course! Go to him then! Go on! You're free!"
" I need to remind you there is no one who can free me from this situation! I will remain your wife no matter what." She replied, rubbing her palms together. She could see the bruise forming already.
"It doesn't matter. I knew from the beginning that this idea was absurd. How could you fall for someone like me? Go to him. I'm freeing you from this stupid arrangement that none of us are comfortable with."
"Neither you nor I are making this decision, Ivar." Freya said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You could also be a bit gentler. It wouldn't hurt you."
As he hobbled away, he asked, "What if I don't want to? Don't force me to be someone I am not."
While returning to the settlement, Freya grunted frustratedly and passed him by.
While following the girl, Ivar grunted something under his breath.
Freya went to the settlement, but she wasn't interested in returning to the Great Hall.
She disappeared into the crowd as soon as she crossed the main gates.
The moment Aslaug saw her son walking into the house, she snapped, "Where have you been? The two of you were absent for several hours. It's supposed to be a walk!" She exclaimed. "Where is Freya?"
"I have no idea. I am not her father. She's probably fucking somewhere with some normal man, just like any normal woman would." Ivar replied as he passed Aslaug. "Now, leave me alone."
"What do you mean you have no idea? She is going to be your wife soon, you should keep her safe and close." Aslaug scolded him.
"I'm a cripple. How am I supposed to keep any woman close?! Even our fucking thrall didn't want to be involved with me! I'm nothing. Just like my father."
Sigurd laughed, playing with a wooden cup as he sat in front of a fire. "I'm sure if you act like a man for once, she will stay with you by herself."
Aslaug sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The two of you were doing so well. She will be your wife. Shouldn't you really try to make it work?"
Ivar growled, throwing his crutch on the floor and crawling throughout the chamber. "I don't need a wife. I think maybe you should start planning Sigurd's life? And not mine!" He screamed.
Sigurd rolled his eyes. "You are always so dramatic. I would have run away too if I were that girl."
"Enough." Aslaug growled at Sigurd who just shrugged his shoulders.
Ivar locked himself in his bedroom.
Though he hated to feel that way, he had a mental pain that was so intense that he almost felt a physical pain in his chest. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he leaned back against the wall.
Freya was hurt and angry as well. His behaviour really pissed her off. She did indeed try her best for him.
The girl found a nice place to sit near the market. She was able to eat an apple in peace. Thankfully, she still had enough coins to purchase one for herself.
Suddenly, a strong hand caressed her neck, caressing the crook of her shoulder. "Our gods will bring us together again, isn't that so?"
Perhaps you just like to follow girls around?” Freya asked and looked up at Bjørn. “Don't you have better things to do?”
"Saw you sitting here, all alone. As for the gentleman I am, I decided to verify if you're fine."
"No, I am not fine at all." She huffed angrily before biting into the apple.
His palm moved to remove a lock of her hair from her cheek as he sat next to her. "What's wrong?"
As she looked at her bruised hand, she muttered, "My soon-to-be husband is wrong. He behaves as he does and he is surprised when I snap back."
"He did this to you?"
"He grabbed me too hard. That's all." She shrugged.
"You should drop this agreement. You're a free woman, until you marry him."
"I am not. Everything is set..." Freya sighed heavily. "My father brought me here when I was a free woman. Now, I will become Ivar the Boneless' wife."
Bjørn was bold with his actions.
He wrapped his arm gently around her waist. He leaned forward a little. "If you want to be saved, just say it." He whispered into her ear, brushing his lips against her earlobe.
It really annoyed Freye to see him so close, so loudly she growled. "Oh, really? And how would you do that?" She asked, frowning.
"A Ragnarsson who is not crippled would be a better match for you." He simply replied after getting up. "Think about it."
Freya watched him with her eyebrow raised. Having another Ragnarsson hope that she will warm his bed was the last thing she wanted right now.
Bjørn left her all alone.
The girl sighed and stood up to return to the Great Hall. She wanted to go to bed, even though it wasn't the middle of the day yet.
Aslaug smiled when she saw Freya entering the Great Hall. As she walked up to the girl she said, "Oh Freya, thank gods. I was growing worried ever since Ivar returned alone."
Freyea smiled a little. "I am alright. Really."
The Queen cupped her cheeks. She said, "Relax now. If you need anything, just let me know."
Freya nodded and decided to join Ubbe at the table. Girl smiled at him, sitting down. "Hello.'
"Hi," Ubbe responded, staring at her intently as he bit into a piece of chicken leg.
She nodded with a soft smile as she said, "Enjoy your meal."
Ubbe moved a plate filled with chicken towards her. "þakka."
Freya blinked and shook her head. Though she appreciated the offer, she was not hungry. "No, no. Thank you, really. Have you seen Ivar? He made it back here, right?"
“As soon as he got back, he headed to his room. He seemed angry."
Freya got up and strolled straight to Ivar's room after nodding her head. She knocked on the door as soon as she found it. door. No response was received. A frown appeared on her face as she entered the room.
Wrapped tightly in furs and cuddling his pillow, Ivar slept peacefully. Dreaming of the only thing he was sure he would never be able to have - fatherhood - he heard the sound of his children's feet, of their laughter.
And he was so handsome as he slept, that steady heart, those steady breaths, more than enough to make everyone fall in love with him all over again.
She watched him for a short moment, then quietly closed the door before walking closer to the bed.
Ivar looked calm and sweet for once. Then she gently stroked his hair as she sat down on the bed. She felt terrible about making things worse.
At first, he didn't react, being fully asleep. But as she continued to stroke him, he rolled his head, leaning into the touch. While Ivar slowly opened his eyes and breathed back, he stared up at her without blinking.
Her hand moved away and she smiled awkwardly. The girl said quietly, "I am sorry... I didn't mean to scare you or wake you up."
"It's fine.” He replied, slowly rolling to his back, hissing a little.
She worriedly asked, "Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I ask your mother to get someone for you?"
"Easy." He asked her. "It's fine. Nothing happens. Cool down."
Although Freya didn't want to risk it, she bit inside her cheek and nodded. "But... Are you sure? If you are in pain, I can bring someone or something to help you. It won't be a problem."
"It's fine." He assured, turning his head away from her. "What do you want, Freya?"
She quickly explained, "I wanted to see how you're doing, Ivar. Make sure you're fine."
"It's unnecessary, Freya. I'm always fine and good."
"Ivar... I am so sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry. You've done nothing wrong."
Laying down, she placed her head on his shoulder. I rarely do that. I really shouldn't. I am yours. No one else's. Such a situation should never occur. He wasn't worth my time."
"Just so you know, I don't blame you and I don't have any hard feelings toward you." Ivar assured, cocking his brow slowly when she placed her head on his shoulder. "You are a healthy, young woman. Your purpose is to become a mother one day, to give a life. It's in you, even if you aren't aware of it yet. With me, the grief will be the only experience you will have."
After shaking her head, she nuzzled his neck while cupping his cheek. "No matter what happens, I want to experience it by your side."
"Look at you. You're young and adorable. All men are losing their heads over you. And here I am, a crippled Viking. Do you realise how ridiculous it sounds? A Viking who is a cripple."
She sighed. "None of it matters to me. When you aren't so angry, you are a really nice person and I want to be with someone like that."
The man replied, "But that's not who I am." He said, "I'm vicious. Angry. Raging."
"Oh, Ivar. I know you aren't like this. You are so much more." She looked at him and smiled.
He closed his eyes and replied, "You don't know me.".
As Freya kissed his cheek, she whispered, "So let me get to know you."
He didn't react. But seemingly enjoyed her lips being pressed to his clean shaved cheek.
Freya hummed quietly and continued to kiss his soft skin, soon moving the kisses to his neck.
He turned his head to her. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I am kissing your neck. You don't like it?"
"I do.” He replied honestly.
A small giggle was heard from her and she returned to kissing his neck.
He let her go further. "You should marry my brother."
Freya sighed against his neck. "I was brought here to marry you, not anyone else. It was already set in stone. Nothing could change their minds."
His right hand moved to her shoulder and slipped to the back of her neck where he stroked her. "If we protest together, they'll have to change their mind."
"You really don't want me as your wife?" Freya asked.
His fingers danced up and down her neck as he did not reply.
Her smile made him look at her as she cupped his cheek. It took courage for her to touch his lips.
It was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.
Freye soon backed away. As she gently rubbed his chest, she said, "Let's not ruin something we promised. Is that okay with you?"
Ivar ran his hand through his thick, stiff hair. "Yes."
Freya could not contain her laughter. "You are good when it comes to talking with a girl."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not, I must admit. I still have time to learn."
"I will help you." She smiled.
Anxiety thoughts were like a horde of soldiers running through the battlefield, faster and faster. And Ivar felt very anxious at that moment. "We'll see how it ends." He rested his hand on the curve of her hip.
"Ivar, I can feel your heart beating like the heart of a scared rabbit. What's wrong, you can tell me." She whispered into his ear.
"Nothing. I'm not a good man, we both know it and we both are aware where it might lead. I don't want to hurt you, but on the other hand, this is who I am and I can’t just deny it."
"You? Not a good man? Why?" She asked surprised.
"I thought you're aware after today's outburst."
Freya laughed and shook her head. "Ivar. This? Really? You have no idea how many times my father snapped at me. One outburst doesn't make you a bad man."
"You'll realise this one day."
He closed his eyes, enjoying her presence.
"Don't be so sure.” She whispered, kissing his cheek gently.
He opened one of his eyes, glaring up at her face.
Freya looked back at him and simply smiled.
His hand travelled to her cheek, his thumb gently brushed her lower lip. He moved a little, pressing his lips to hers. She tasted like the finest ale.
Freya let out a soft, happy moan and gently kissed him back, wrapping arms around his neck.
Ivar opened his eyes a little to have a brief look at her face.
She looked like an angel. Long lashes, honey hair and honey skin. That girl was sweet from sun-kissed lips to soulful gentleness.
He gently deepened the kiss, trying to not forget what Ubbe had taught him about kissing.
She hummed gladly, accepting the kiss fully. Freya was actually surprised that he was such a good kisser.
When their lips, once connected in a shared, sensual kiss parted, Ivar looked into her eyes. "You're a good kisser."
Freya hummed, nodding her head while biting her lip. "You aren't so bad either."
Ivar's eyes didn't move; they observed you carefully.
Reading a face was using his intuition to see the real person, to allow his longing heart to see below their mask and respond with grace and tact to their real needs.
Freya's face was lightened up with a tiny smile dancing in the corners of her lips. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkling, her little nose twitching a little as a brief laughter escaped her lips.
Ivar chuckled. "I've been practising a lot.” He replied sweetly.
Girl nodded and watched him. Ivar was handsome just the way he was, even if he didn't think so at all. There was more to him than just legs and Freya could see this.
There were still many hours left before the night. As much as Freya wanted they couldn't spend the day in bed. Girl got a nice idea. "Ivar? You know how to use a bow?” she asked curiously.
"Do I know how to use a bow? This is such a random question but yes, I do, why?," Ivar replied, frowning a little.
Freya gasped loudly. "Could you teach me?! I kind of know how to use it but I am not the best at it."
"You want to learn how to use a bow?," He asked. "What for? You're a lady."
She frowned. "Ladies fight as well. I want to be able to fight! How else will I help my husband during a raid?"
He blinked. Ivar was at a loss for words. "You're not only soft-hearted, you're tough enough to stay that way. That takes a kind of bravery that I'm still processing," Ivar replied in the end. "I need to admit that you're a great surprise to me. I'm lucky enough to have a woman with ambitions by my side. Have you ever fought before?"
Freya giggled and shrugged. "I have three older brothers. Life wasn't easy and most of our play time ended with stick fights," she explained. "Once I got older they helped me learn a thing or two. Just to be sure their little sister is safe. I am the youngest child."
The youngest and the cutest at the same time, Ivar thought to himself, but he didn't say it aloud.
He considered her words. "If you want, we can go to the woods to have training."
Freya nodded eagerly. "Yes, pretty please. I would love you to teach me."
She immediately sat up and then got up quickly. "Let's go!" Girl jumped in place.
Ivar blinked once again. "Let me get ready. Wait in the throne chamber."
"No... Can I help you with anything? I... As a good soon to be wife, I should know what my husband's needs are."
"I need to put the braces on," he replied softly.
Freya straightened her back and nodded. "Tell me what to do and I will follow."
"Ahm, Freya, I can do this on my own, don't worry about your little, pretty head."
Freya shook her head and kneeled in front of the bed. "I want to know what my husband needs if I ever have to help him.'
As much as he didn't condone this, with a loud sight he gave her a nod.
Ivar reached to get the braces. "You need to be careful, extremely careful. You need to know that my legs tend to hurt a lot."
Freya bit her lips and nodded, taking the braces from him. After taking a deep breath she started to gently put the braces on.
He sat there stiffened, almost forgetting to breathe; he was mentally ready for the pain wave that would wash all over him if she would not be gentle enough.
Freya worked gently and carefully, making sure to not cause him any pain. This was the last thing she wanted. After a moment she looked up at him. "Everything's fine..?"
He was looking down at her with his eyes wide opened, his breath held back. Ivar nodded, slowly exhaling. "Yes. Yes, you're doing a very good job down there."
She smiled proudly and continued her work to soon put the braces on his other leg as well. Freya honestly felt happy that she didn't hurt him at all.
Ivar reached hand out and put it to her cheek, gently rubbing it with his thumb. "Ágeatavel, þakka.” He said quietly.
It was the very first time when someone was truly kind to him. He wasn't sure how to behave. He wasn't sure what to tell her and how to express his gratitude.
When he made sure his palms were gloved, Ivar got up and offered his hand to Freya. "I can also teach you how to use an axe."
Freya grabbed his hand and happily followed him, smiling at everyone who dared to give them a weird look. She really wanted to build a bond with him and apparently she indeed found a way to do so.
Ivar stopped in the throne chamber to collect his lighter fur. He also attached his favourite axe to a sheath.
Freya grabbed her own fur and then simply watched Ivar getting ready. She was so excited for those lessons. "Can we go?"
"You two are going out again? Will this end up in another fight?” Aslaug asked as soon as she noticed Ivar putting on the fur.
Ivar smiled briefly at his mother. "Hopefully it won't. Don't worry, mother. And don't wait for us. I want to take Freya to the tavern later."
Freya blinked but nodded. "I will make sure we are safe. No need to worry, my queen."
Aslaug sighed and nodded. "Fine then. Just don't get her drunk, Ivar."
"So I can get my ass drunk? Thanks, mother." He teased Aslaug with a little giggle. "Freya, come on."
She nodded and followed him.
Ivar limped slowly through the settlement, leading her to the secret place where he used to train with his brothers. He hoped Sigurd or Hvitserk wouldn't be there.
Girl this time followed him without stopping but she still was giving a mine glances to anyone who dared to giggle or anything.
Of course Sigurd was there. Freye didn't like it because she could already feel the trouble coming. "Oh, Freya! It's so good to see you again!” Sigurd immediately got up from his spot under a huge tree, where he was polishing the blade of his axe. "It's such a shame you have a trail behind you," he added as soon as he spotted his crippled brother.
Ivar didn't reply, instead passed Sigurd by, of course poking him with his shoulder.
Freye huffed and passed by Sigurd as well, trying her best to ignore him.
She was growing tired of his behaviour, all she wanted was to spend some time with Ivar.
She wasn't fast enough; Sigurd caught her by her wrist, pulling her closer, letting his free hand wrap around her waist. "Look at you, such a pretty girl."
"Let me go!" She growled annoyed. "I came here with Ivar. Take your filthy hands off of me!”
"Oh, so resistant.” He chuckled.
His laughter was yet cut off by an axe flying right next to his face, sticking in the branch. It was Ivar's axe.
Freya blinked surprised and looked at Ivar yet she frowned since Sigurd's grip didn't loosen at all. "I warn you, better let me go."
Sigurd was looking hard in her eyes, then let go of her wrist. "So you've chosen. You want to be his cum sack. Fine then but do not come to me if he won't satisfy you."
She finally had enough and simply punched Sigurd in the face, hissing softly as she moved away. "Shut up finally! I have enough of you, by being such a shitty person you will never get any normal girl to like you. Only cheap whores catch an eager cock like you." Freya growled, massaging her palm.
Ivar limped closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "You heard the girl, don't ya?" He asked with eyebrow cocked, looking at Sigurd who fell to the ground.
Other brother got up and spat on the ground right next to Freya's feet. "Whore."
"Say it once more and I'll cut your tongue off.” Ivar informed Sigurd, remaining stoical.
Freya crossed arms over her chest, his words didn't offend her at all. "You better go. Find some woman with no taste who will even want to fuck with you. We are too busy to deal with you, right love?"
"Exactly." Ivar pulled her closer to offer her a lovely kiss.
Sigurd growled loudly. "This is not over yet, Ivar." Then he left the two.
"Like what would he do? Growl at us?" Freya asked, looking at Ivar.
"I have no idea what he meant."
Freya shrugged and clapped her hands. "Who cares. Let's get to what we were planning, I can't wait!"
Ivar showed her many things, from how to use a bow to how to throw an axe.
Freya laughed loudly when the arrow hit the exact spot she was aiming at. She was really mastering her skills. "Did you see that?!”
"Yes, Freya. Good shot." Ivar praised her with a grin on his lips as he sat on a thick branch of a fallen tree.
"Axe probably won't be my best weapon but I am getting good with the bow.” She said proudly. "I will be able to join you during the raids!"
"Join me during raids, you say?" Ivar asked, raising his eyebrow. "You'll never go with me."
Freya looked at him. "What... Why not?”
He measured her features with his glance carefully. "You're too pretty and too precious to be put in such a dangerous situation."
She blushed, hearing his words. Blinking from time to time, she stared at him. "But... I was sure you would love your wife to be with you while raiding distant lands..."
"I'd love my wife to be safe, ruling the kingdom while I'm gone to distant shores, nursing our children.” He said and blushed a little.
Freya blushed a little as well and smiled sweetly. "Oh, really? Nursing our children, you say?" She hummed while walking to him.
"Nursing our children,I say.” Ivar nodded, his face straight as he spoke. "Every marriage has a purpose. It's about giving new life in the end, isn't it, dear Freya?"
She walked to him closer and gently moved hand through his hair. "I think it is. But I was sure you hate me and you don't really want me as your wife or mother for your children."
"I didn't say such a thing.” He shrugged, pretending to not remember about him saying all of the bad stuff.
She hummed and hugged him, stroking his hair lovingly. "In that case... I cannot wait to nurse our children."
He got sad instantly. With a sadness written on his face, Ivar looked up at her. "You do realise I can't give life, right?”
Freya hummed and kissed his head gently. "You don't know that for sure, Ivar."
"Everyone says that.” He reminded her. "Besides, look at me. A crippled viking? I barely can walk. How am I supposed to get you pregnant?"
"Just because people say something doesn't mean it's true. We will see how it is and who knows. Maybe you'll get me pregnant." Freya shrugged a little. "And then I will nurse a lot of our children."
He smiled sadly. "Yeah... Don't you have a feeling you're going to lose all of your best years by the side of the cripple? It must be terrifying."
Freya gently smacked him on the head. "Stop that, I swear to Odin himself.”
He was supposed to be married on that day. He was supposed to be married to the woman his parents had arranged.
But Freya proved to be quite the opposite of the conservative woman he had expected.
He considered Freya to be his soulmate. A partner in crime and his closest friend.
Grabbing Freya's cheeks, Helga exclaimed, "You look so cute!"
As Freya listened to her words, she couldn't help but giggle. Her nerves were frayed. The girl really did fall in love with Ivar, but once that day is over, she will be bound to him until the end; what if he was so kind just up until the wedding? What will happen on the wedding night though?
"Of course she is. After all, Freya is my son's wife." Aslaug smiled, braiding Freya's hair.
In the meantime, Ivar was at the seaside, where the wood altar was built.
In a white silk tunic, matching material pants, and with his hair brushed, Ivar sat on a chair brought to him by Hvitserk.
As Ubbe ruffled Ivar's hair and grinned at him, he said, "Look at you. If I didn't know you, I would call you an angel."
"Stop it.'' The younger brother grunted, pushing Ubbe's hand off his head. "I brushed it. You'll destroy my hairdo."
"You did? It looks as messy as always." Hvitserk giggled. "Freya will run away as soon as she sees this mess. Or you."
Ivar frowned, looking at Hvitserk. Then his eyes moved to Ubbe. "Tell him to stop," he demanded.
Ubbe rolled his eyes and poked Hvitserk's shoulder. "Quit it. Your brother gets married today. Behave."
"Oh you know I am joking but we all know that mother set it up. There is nothing... Real in this relationship," Hvitserk shrugged. "I have no idea why he is so excited about this."
"What do you mean why?” Hvitserk asked, looking at his younger brother. "You really think she loves you? Freya was forced to attend this wedding."
Ivar clenched teeth, huffing angrily. "And what do you know about love, dear brother? She loves me and I love her."
Hvitserk summarised, "It's her duty, not her will, Ivar. I doubt you know much about love either. Oh! There she is!"
Ivar turned his head so he could see Freya.
Immediately, his heart beat faster, his blood ran cold through his veins, and the only thing he could do was release a gasp.
As Freya wore a long white dress and had her hair braided neatly, she looked like a goddess.
As a result of instinct, Ivar was compelled to get up from his chair and walk to her. Despite shaking all over his body, he managed to pull himself up, leaning against the back of the chair.
Freye smiled, seeing him. She felt so happy that this day finally came, even if she was really scared Freya couldn't wait. She gasped a little, seeing him standing up proudly.
"Ivar, you shouldn't," Ubbe whispered to his brother quietly. "Sit down, you can't put so much on your legs. Your eyes are blue."
Ivar simply waved his hand at Ubbe. "Don't tell me how to live my life, you ain't my mother, Ubbe."
She took a deep breath, improved her dress and started to walk to finally meet with Ivar at the altar. Girl smiled and cupped his cheek. "You should sit down, love," She whispered, looking at him worriedly. In the past few weeks she learned a lot about Ivar and anything that has to do with his health, including his blue eyes. "You will be in pain later."
With his eyes widening and lips parted, he forgot to breathe; this became a habit of his when he was with her.
Freya blinked and glanced at Ubbe over Ivar's shoulder. "Could you please sit him down?" she asked.
Without saying a word, Ubbe tapped Ivar's shoulder and nodded. It's time to sit.
Ivar obeyed with his eyes glued to his soon-to-be wife.
Freya smiled sweetly at him and gently kissed his forehead. She whispered, "Now... We can bond in front of our Gods.".
Let me take a moment to collect myself. I should stand by your side."
Her hand was raised so she could kiss it gently. "I am so happy."
There were too many emotions accumulating within him, and he was shaking all over.
Freye smiled at him as she asked, "So let's start?"
A tiny smirk danced across the corners of Ivar's lips as he replied, "Yes."
The wedding only lasted a few minutes. During the ceremony, the prophetess who conducted the ceremony exchanged rings, they were united by blood, and she pronounced them husband and wife, for good or for bad.
Once they returned to the settlement, they were greeted by a cheering crowd, led by queen Aslaug. Of course his brothers prepared a feast for them.
Freya was genuinely surprised by the size of the feast. Although she expected a feast, she did not expect it to be so large. Waving to her father and her older brothers, the girl giggled. "This feast is so huge, Ivar! I never expected this!’
She followed her newly married husband, stumbling a bit behind him. My beautiful Freya, I hope you enjoy your day today."
She assured him, "I will certainly do so. A whole feast by my husband's side? This will be better than anything else.".
Ivar waited politely until she sat first when they reached the spots set by thralls.
Freya greeted her older brothers. The men hugged her tightly, giving Ivar a disapproving look. It was good that Freya got married, but why to the cripple?
Prior to joining Ivar, the girl greeted the queen and Helga as well.
After she joined Ivar, she asked softly, "Shall we begin that feast, love?”
He nodded, "I'd like that."
She smiled, taking her horn and raising it up high, "Let's not wait and start the feast, dear friends!"
Seeing her family's glances, Ivar sat slowly. As her husband, he knew they were unhappy. The girl could do better.
As Freya noticed that he was looking at her brothers, she frowned. Touching his shoulder, she asked, "Ivar?".
He turned his head towards her. "Yes?"
When he turned to her, she immediately used the opportunity and pressed her lips to his.
While she was kissing him, Ivar caught himself looking at her face.
Shortly thereafter, he closed his eyes and slipped his tongue past her lips, returning the kiss.
She hummed into the kiss and cupped his cheek. This was to show everyone that she is not ashamed of her husband even in the slightest.
He blinked as their lips parted. "That was something, Freya.."
"Something special, just for my husband." She giggled.
He smiled at her, "It seems that your brothers aren't pleased with me."
"They were not satisfied with anyone who came near me. Honestly? When my father brought me here, I was surprised that they didn't join forces to kick the asses of anyone who wanted to be near me."
"I can fight any of them for you," Ivar said, gesturing at the thrall to pour him more wine.
Freya laughed softly, "You don't have to, love. We don't want any bloodshed or conflict, right?"
“There's something fun about blood spilling on the ground, isn't there?”
"I don't think so, love. Once they get to know you, they will stop." She assured him.
Ivar nodded, "Fine then. We'll spill the blood of our enemies someday."
"You will spill the blood of our enemies and conquer all the distant lands, and I will be here, nursing our children."
"That's my wife." He smiled, trying to cover the blush crawling on his cheeks by raising a chalice with wine up to his lips.
"That should be interesting.” Freya said to Ivar quietly, observing how Hvitserk started to pick on her oldest brother.
Ivar also focused his gaze on Hvitserk. "I bet my bracelet he'll get his ass kicked tonight. Finally."
"Let's watch." She giggled.
Meantime, the man glanced over his shoulder at the stranger that kept bothering him. "And who are you, little boy?"
"Hvitserk Ragnarsson, prince of Kattegat." The young man replied, playing with the knife he held in his hands. "I don't like the way you and your companions are looking at me and my brothers." He pointed to the table where all the Ragnarssons were sitting.
"That's what eyes are for. We look whenever we want." One man said, shrugging, and the others nodded. "This is our first time here, so we are curious."
"I welcome you here, but please stop glaring at us." He gestured towards the sitting man. “Were you taught any manners?"
"Manners have nothing to do with this, little man." The oldest guy replied, his eyes widening as others laughed.
Hvitserk glanced back at his brothers and Sigurd nodded to encourage him to behave properly.
Hvitserk simply pushed the man's shoulder as he said, "I don't like when you stare."
The man stood up right away, he was easily twice the size of Hvitserk. The two others followed. They were not much shorter than their brother. “Then let's resolve this matter as men and women. Because you are the only whiny bitch complaining that we are staring."
Hvitserk reached for the hatchet attached to his belt immediately, being unfazed by the man's height.
With just one gesture, Ivar silenced almost everyone in the chamber. "Enough. Those of you who still have business should go outside, cool down, and only then return."
As Freya nuzzled the shoulder of Ivar, she replied, "Yes, that would be nice. We don't want any fights at our wedding feast."
"We're just fooling around here, my dear sister. We won't ruin your day." The men laughed.
Ivar looked at them with a cold, careful glance. Any trouble would be just the last thing they needed.
Hvitserk nodded at the huge man and patted his shoulder. "I was just messing around with you."
"I like this one!" the tall man laughed and wrapped his arm around Hvitserk. "If everybody is like that, we might even accept Freya's husband."
A nasty smile appeared on Ivar's face in response, after he heard the man's words.
Laughing, Freya watched as her brothers stepped forward and joined Ragnar's sons. "I really expected a fight to happen."
"My troll brother Hvitserk's strange charm attracted them this time, thank goodness."
“I knew they would get along just fine. Just like I did with you." She hummed, resting her head on Ivar's shoulder. "You know what?"
"Hmmm?” He murmured, looking down at the girl.
Her excitement was obvious as she said, "I am glad we are finally together for real!".
He touched her nose. "Surprisingly, I am glad too. I have been stressed for a few days."
"It's funny to think back on how you treated me in the beginning. You threatened to kill any girl that came near you." Freya let out a sharp breath.
"As you can see, I got rid of my stupidity rather quickly." Ivar replied.
She took his hand in hers and said, "I hope you did, my dear husband. I am so lucky to have Ivar the Boneless as my husband."
His blue eyes were open wide, glistening in the light filling the chamber. She could easily conclude he was happy.
His fingers massaged her hand as he squeezed it.
As Freya smiled gently, she nuzzled and kissed him on the cheek, and enjoyed his presence. She stayed at Ivar's side throughout the entire feast. She did not go dancing or chatting with anyone. All she wanted was to be with Ivar.
Toward the evening, Ivar and Freya decided it was time to leave the feast and rest. After leaving the crowd behind, Freya giggled as she flopped on the special bed that was prepared for them. It was filled with soft furs and flower petals.
The man blinked twice as he peeked inside the room before closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. As he slowly limped to the edge of the bed, he commented, "I don't know what you told the thralls, but they did a decent job." Putting his crutches aside, he gazed at the girl. "I'm in awe of your beauty tonight."
A sweet smile spread across Freya's face. "You look so handsome tonight. I am the happiest woman alive." She said and added, "I never imagined I would be that happy."
A smile spread across his face as he undid the stripes of his tunic that had been neatly wrapped around his neck. He removed it slowly, hesitantly.
She climbed up on her knees and moved closer to him so that she could gently help him undress.
When he felt her hands suddenly wandering down his chest, he blushed. "þakka."
Her fingers grazed the strings on the front of her dress as she sat next to him.
"Would you mind helping me take it off?" She asked innocently.
He blinked and felt as if the blood was floating away from his face, leaving him pale. With his eyes fixed on hers, he reached for the strings, untying them quickly. "Very well," he whispered.
"Just take it off." Freya whispered, staring deeply into those stunning blue eyes of his.
He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before he asked, "Like, completely?"
He assumed that she would probably have doubts about him and could think negatively of him because of his silliness.
Her eyes widened. "Yes please. It's too beautiful to sleep in, and I don't want to ruin it."
After nodding, he put palms on her shoulders and slipped his fingers under the fabric of the dress, gently pushing it down her shoulders, revealing her chest and belly.
Her breasts caught his attention before he could think. When he realised he was staring, he cleared his throat. "Fyrirgef..."
"It's all yours, Ivar. You can look, touch or whatever else you choose." She took his hand and placed it on her breast as she spoke. "You don't have to be sorry." She laughed. "It's all yours."
His eyes widened and he forgot to breathe once more. "Freya..." He whispered in the end, taking back his hand. "I don't want to disgrace you in any way."
"You do not disgrace me, love. You are my husband now. You have the right to watch me and touch me like this." She said softly.
His eyes wandered again down her body as he asked, "Can I kiss you...?"
"No need to ask. Those lips are yours now. You can do anything you want." She hummed.
In a tender kiss, he slipped his tongue past her lips as he put his palms to her cheeks.
Feya moaned into the kiss and returned it eagerly.
He hummed softly in the kiss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer to him.
He left her lips and moved his kisses to her neck, gently trailing the tip of his tongue down her pulse point.
Then he moved his kisses down her neck, tracing the tip of his tongue down her pulse point.
"Oh, Ivar..." Freya rubbed her hands into his hair and moaned before biting her lip.
The man cupped her breast in one hand while his other rested on her hip. The man moved his lips down her neck to touch her clavicle while exclaiming, "You're so gorgeous."
She agreed with him wholeheartedly. "Gorgeous and only yours. Your touch feels so good. I love you."
He paused and looked her in the eye. "All mine."
The promise I made in front of the gods is true, Ivar. I'm yours."
Ivar smiled at her. "I'm tired. Aren't you, love?"
She placed herself on his lap and rolled her hips a bit as she frowned. As she gently pushed his chest to make him lie down, she stated, "I am not tired. My husband just got me all hot and bothered. Do you really expect me to go to sleep now?"
Her push made him blink. Still, he put his hands on her hips, gazing at her breasts while stroking her thighs. "Woah, Freya!" He replied, licking his lips. "You're stunning."
She moved towards his neck and began kissing him. Soon she was kissing his chest. "I already heard that, love." She laughed.
"Someone's pretty eager here.” He teased.
She whispered, kissing his belly, "Thank you for making me. Thanks for your touch, your words..."
A sharp intake of breath accompanied him as he tilted his head back, resting his head on the bed. "Freya... maybe we should not do this... I'm not skilled."
"Neither am I..." She confessed, nibbling on the skin of his abdomen.
His lips curled into a smile. "You are such a she-wolf, aren't you!?" He chuckled, slipping his hands into her hair. "You may not be skilled, but you act bravely."
Freya shrugged. “Often, I watched my brothers and their lovers.”
Ivar cocked his brow and propped himself up with his elbows.
Freya frownd. "What?"
"What did you mean by that?"
“Is it so hard to understand? You never pampered your brother to watch him play around with girls?” Asked Freya, raising her eyebrows.
He felt blush hitting his cheeks. "I actually did..."
She sighed, "This is how I... Learned stuff... I never had anyone explain it to me..."
"Yeah, I understand. I heard filthy stories from my brothers or I saw them in action," he smiled. "I'll even be honest now. My brothers arranged for me to meet Margarethe, one of our thralls. They just took me to this hidden place that they prepared for us. They wanted to make me a man," he chuckled at the memory, but his smile quickly disappeared. "I've always joked that no girl would want me because of these," he pointed at his legs. “I don't think my manhood works as it should... Because, you know…”
Freya listened to him, resting her head gently against his legs. Nodding her head she looked at him. "Did you... Love that girl?"
"No." He replied simply, shaking his head a bit, "But you know, they all had her. I didn't want to make myself look foolish. I wanted to challenge myself. It didn't work."
"You can't really challenge yourself when it comes to love. Maybe that's why it didn't work," She whispered as she gently touched his leg. "How do you feel about me?"
He stared down at her. "Good. Comfortable. Relaxed."
"Maybe it will work this time." She smiled at him.
While humming, Freya slowly undid his pants. "Let your wife work, you just need to relax."
"Honey... No, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to look at them." He replied, shaking all over his body.
Freya hushed him. As she smiled, she pushed his pants enough to release his cock. "I know you don't want me to see your legs, but trust me and let me do this."
His head rolled back as he inhaled deeply. "I don't want to disappoint my beautiful wife."
"You would let me down if you pushed me away tonight." She whispered and wrapped her hand around his member. I was surprised at how hard it became. "Would you look at that?"
As soon as he felt something, he opened his eyes wide and realised that it was her delicate hand wrapped around his manhood. Ivar propped himself up on elbows again, looking at her with wide eyes once again. "Impossible..."
Freya looked up and chuckled as her thumb played with his tip. "You see, love? Maybe you just married a woman who is a goddess in a human disguise." She teased and then licked a long strip from the base to the tip of his cock.
As he gasped loudly, he rolled his head back, almost moaning at the intensity of her touch.
As Freya hummed, she remembered what she saw in the past and tried to imitate it here.
Her lips encircled his tip, sucking it gently.
He undid her braids with his hands slipping into her hair. "Freya." He mumbled quietly, looking up at the ceiling, enjoying the pleasant sensation he was experiencing. "This is impossible... You must be a goddess."
"Maybe I indeed am, who knows, love." She whispered, looking up at him before swallowing his member at once.
"Freya." Ivar whispered in a tiny voice, just like a kitten. "You spin my head round."
While Freya purred around his cock, she continued her work on him.
"Leave it." He whispered. "Please. I want you here. I need you here, by my side."
With a loud pop, she pulled him out of her mouth and smiled, licking her lips. The girl moved up, kissing every inch of his body until she reached his lips.
As he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, he kissed her desperately, pulling her as close as he could. His palms stroked over the soft curves hidden beneath her dress, which hadn't been completely removed yet.
Freya returned the kiss eagerly but soon backed away. He was now fully straddled, and she took her dress off with a sweet smile.
"Oh, my Gods!" Ivar whispered quietly, barely moving his lips as he did so; his hands found their way instantly to her round hips, which he grabbed firmly, enjoying how perfectly they fit in his hands.
Freya giggled and reached up to scratch the skin on his chest with her fingertips. "I feel someone is happy." She claimed.
While he admired her body, he was trying to catch his breath.
She smiled, cupping his cheeks. "Are you alive?" She asked, "Or did I kill my husband on a wedding night?"
"I've never felt so alive." He said, slipping his hand between her thighs.
She teased, "Oh, really? You overall seem a little lifeless."
He cocked his brow. His hand found a sweet, hot spot on her while he murmured, "I am not as skilled as you are."
She reminded him, "I did not do this, just watched." I am not skilled either, she told him.
As his thumb gently rubbed her clitoris, Ivar said, "But your confidence lends you some credibility. Do you like it?"
Freya moaned quietly and bit her lip, nodding her head eagerly.
He cleared his throat, whispering, "I have never been so close to a woman before. You'll have to guide me." Meanwhile, he used his index finger to gently spread her pussy lips and tease her entrance.
She smiled. "Yet... somehow you know where to put your fingers. I am sure you know what to do. Just don't stop yourself, my dear husband."
His other hand caressed the beautiful smoothness of her chest, moving up and down it. Meanwhile, one of his fingers slipped into her wet core, teasing it further.
Then, Freya began slowly riding his fingers, moving her hips as Ivar's hand was caressing her chest.
"So eager, aren't you?" He asked with a raspy voice.
He pulled his fingers out, covering her pussy in her own wetness. Shortly after, he took his manhood and lined it up with her entrance.
"So eager, aren't you, dear husband?” She teased him, using his own words against him.
Freya gently grasped his manhood and slid down it, moaning quietly at the strain. "Fuck..."
His eyes were fixed on her beautiful face covered in blush as he parted his lips.
Freya gasped and bit her lips hard, trying to take in the pain. Slowly, she moved up and down his shaft.
He whispered, "Hey, take it easy," as he scanned the exposed features of her body with a smirk. "You feel so good..."
Despite the pain, Freya moved her hips faster as she whispered, "But I want to please my husband."
As Ivar tightened his grip on her hips, he pressed her harder against his legs, making her unable to move. She tried to buck her hips as he said, "Wait. Wait. It's not about me, it's about us." He told her, cocking his brow. "As much as I would like to satisfy myself, I also want you to feel satisfied. Don't want you to feel pain."
When he pressed her down, Freya whimpered loudly. She could feel him deep inside.
As she looked down at him, she said, "I heard it was always painful, love, for the first time. I promise, it will pass soon. I just need to adjust." Freya assured him.
"I was told that, too." He added.
In order to give her some sensation, he gently rubbed circles on her clitoris. "You're so tight that I can't think straight."
Again, Freya moved up and down his manhood. She let out a soft sigh and smiled at him, feeling her walls gently relax around him. It became easier for her to move. "You are so big..."
Her warmness and wetness around his cock were enjoyed while he traced his hands along her waist. Ivar couldn't take his eyes off her. "I'm yours."
Freya gave him a soft smile, her hands touched his chest. "Look at you... You don't have any problems with your beautiful cock. You just needed the right person." She whispered.
"I needed a goddess, and Gods provided me with one in the human body."
"Yes... Yes!” Freya moaned, moving a bit faster. She could feel herself getting closer to her high. "Oh, my Gods...."
"Wait, love!" He again pulled on her hips a little, pressing her pussy to his crotch. "Let me do it properly. Let me try."
Freya bit her lip hard and nodded. "Of course, love."
She laid comfortably on Ivar's bed after being gently pushed off of him. After he slowly rolled on top of her, he pinned her down with his weight. He kissed her hungrily, helping Freya to wrap her legs around his waist. Her arms were pinned above her head by him after he detached his mouth from hers. Suddenly Ivar caught one of her nipples in his mouth, encircling it in warmth as his tongue flicked across it and then he bit down on it tenderly. Soon, he removed his mouth from Freya's breast and looked at her with lust clouding his eyes. He reached down towards his dick and placed it against her entrance. Ivar entered her roughly.
It now seemed as though Freya was praying, wailing praises for Ivar in a way that resembled a moan. Her fingers ran through his hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Ivar grunted as he continued thrusting into Freya. He slammed into her roughly with his hands gripping her waist. "You're so hot, my beautiful wife." He grunted out.
A smile spread across his face as her nails raked over his back. "I'm going to make everyone within the Great Hall know to whom you belong."
Freya gave him a mischievous smile. "I BELONG TO IVAR THE BONELESS! THE GREATEST VIKING THERE IS!" She moaned as loudly as she could.
"That's my girl." Ivar praised as his eyes grew darker and he wasted no time in pulling her closer to him, smashing his full lips against hers as one of his palms slipped between their connected bodies to rub circles on her clitoris. "Cum for me, Freya." Ivar whispered as his thrusts became sloppy.
Frey smiled against his lips and kissed him deeply again. She could feel her walls tightening around him and soon she whimpered his name loudly, cumming all over his prick.
Freya rumbled with pleasure as Ivar held her tightly. He stiffened and buried his head in her shoulder. Ivar's thrusts became sloppier and he slammed into her three more times before he moaned and groaned loudly in pleasure while he milked her pussy with his warm seed. As he breathed heavily, Ivar whispered, "I love you very much." He held her against him and kissed her neck. Slowly, Ivar began to pull away from her.
Gasping and nuzzling him, she purred out of happiness. "I love you too... And who knows. Maybe soon there will be three of us..." Freya whispered.
He nodded with a smile, settling down by her side, lying comfortably on his back. "You think there is a chance? I was told all my life that a cripple cannot have children."
"They also said you can't fuck or be truly loved." Freya looked at him and giggled. "Just look at the mess you left between my legs."
Looking curiously between her legs, he propped himself on his elbows. "I must say I love this view."
She laughed and nodded. "Oh, I hope you do. It was our first time but it won't be our last."
He smirked proudly. "So you'll want to have sex with me more than once?"
A soft frown appeared on her face as she looked at him. "Why not?" She asked, confused.
"I am a disgusting cripple because of my legs."
"Ivar!" She sighed. "If I hear that again, I promise I will punch you."
As he sat up to find his pants, he joked, "You are threatening a cripple."
Grabbing his arm, she pulled him back down. "Let's just sleep." Freya smiled, pulling the fur to cover both of them.
Smiling at Freya, Ivar nodded. "Good." He let her place her head to his chest as his arm wrapped around her figure.
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Vikings + sleeping habits
Summary: what i think these characters sleeping habits are, from positions to the amount of sleep they need to some random wildcards.
Beginning Notes: this is such a fun prompt!!! for everyone reading unexpected, i'm almost done with part 2, and starting to plot a miniseries. feeling in the mood for happy endings, so no one has to worry.
Taglist: @bragisrunes, @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, @punkrocknpearls, @demon-of-the-ancient-world, @alicedopey
Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!
Ragnar does not sleep
Like, ever
Every time you wake up and go to the kitchen/hall to have drink, he’ll be there
When he does sleep, he’s an extremely light sleeper
He definitely needs weed to fall asleep in later seasons
She’s a pretty regular sleeper
Doesn’t need too much, maybe 6-7 hours are enough for her
However, she falls into a coma after battles
12 hours of sleep straight
Doesn’t get grumpy when deprived of sleep
Light sleeper, she’s gotta keep an eye out for Selena Aslaug
This queen needs her beauty sleep
At least 8 hours
If she has visions during her sleep, they leave her very drained
She gets snappy quickly the day after
She doesn’t nap though
Back sleeper, looks kind of possessed too
No sleep schedule
Sometimes he gets four hours, sometimes he gets 13
Grumpy when he gets too little, but he refuses to acknowledge that
Falls asleep very quickly
Starfish position
If he’s in safe surroundings, an extremely heavy sleeper
He’s got a light snore too
Sleeps on his back and his kids/brothers pile around him
Once, Ivar dragged himself over Ubbe to punch Sigurd, and he slept through it
Cannot sleep around, needs a human teddybear (Amma or Hvitserk mostly)
Can sleep in any position
The kid that falls asleep lying across two chairs in the middle of a sacrifice
Later, when he gets more nightmares, he starts sleeping curled up
Also often slept next to Ubbe or Ivar as a kid
Will never forgive Ragnar for dropping him while he was sleeping, that shit disturbed one of his best dreams ever
Sleeps on his stomach
He’s a light sleeper for obvious reasons (Ivar)
However he can fall asleep with any amount of noise or movement going on around him
Early bird, much to his brother’s annoyance
Does not sleep in ever
Does not admit it, but he needs at least 8 hours too
Sleeps between mountains of pillows (or brothers)
Likes it when someone puts his legs up while he’s asleep (not while he’s falling asleep!!!)
Extremely light sleeper, and sometimes has slightly prophetic nightmares
Often wakes up bc of his pain
Grumpy when that happens too often
Possibly sleeps in trees
Needs his diffuser, sleep mask, melatonin gummies and maybe some weed from Ragnar
Five pillows
Curled up fetus position, we already know
Uses silk pillows for luscious monk curls too
Best sleeping game out there, Lagertha tries his routine once and rises with clear skin and silky hair
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deans-ch-ch-cherrypie · a month ago
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Hvitserk & Flóki (5x1)
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derangedrhythms · 5 months ago
I mean the real gods, the darker gods, the gods that haunt me.
Vikings, from 'Boneless'
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darkcrystals · 5 months ago
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Gustaf Skarsgård as Floki VIKINGS (2013) Season 01 Episode 01: Rites of Passage
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underragingwaves · 2 months ago
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1x03: Dispossessed
In and out in a flurry of violence and terror, Ragnar and his crew raid the monastery in Lindisfarne for everything it contains, from treasure to monks who can be sold as slaves. Unable to ignore the riches this unsanctioned journey has returned, Earl Haraldson has no choice but to agree to let these warriors undertake a second trip out. 
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viki-ngs · 2 months ago
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bragisrunes · 6 months ago
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under the cut you’ll find a list categorized by character for all of my vikings’ oneshots.
happy reading !
I’ll Walk With You Anywhere: a requested Ivar x reader fic where reader is there to see him walk in s5.
Sleepovers: Sigurd swears that his best friend is destined to marry one of his brothers and maybe he’s right. A modern Ivar x reader fic.
Ivar’s Sword: a requested Ivar x reader fic where Ivar’s wife is sexually assaulted during an attack on Kattegat. *Warnings for referenced SA, major character death, and canon divergence
Someone You’ve Never Met: Ivar x reader. How can you miss someone you’ve never met? You needed Ivar all this time, and you hadn’t even met him yet.
Take it Off: Ivar x reader. While in Kyiv, Ivar finds himself sexually frustrated. *Smut
Red String of Fate: a requested Ivar x reader fic where Ivar comes to the future and finds reader, who he was married to in his own timeline.
Nattmara: Ivar x reader. There’s a story about the mara, a creature that gives nightmares. Ivar’s learned not to be afraid.
Masquerade: 1600′s Ivar x reader au. Reader has always heard that the Lothbrok family is a cult but never believed the tales. Part 1.
Masquerade: Aftermath. Part 2: reader and Ivar’s relationship changes. *Smut
Gone: Modern Ivar x reader. Reader remembers Ivar’s death.
The Bakery: Part 1 of a modern Ivar x reader story. Ivar and reader attend the same college and Ivar asks her out on a date when she shows up at his bakery job.
The Bakery: Part 2. Ivar and reader go on a date.
Words Unspoken: a requested Ivar x reader fic where reader is mute and Ivar is the one that gets her to speak
Belonging: Ivar x Reader requested fic where Ivar is possessive of reader but she gets taken by Bjorn
The Fourth Night of Jul: Ivar x reader requested fic where Ivar fucks reader as she's sleeping. *smut
Love from the Threat of War: Reader requested. When Reader becomes Jarl of Hedeby, it's not long before she has King Ivar threatening war. A drunken word from Hvitserk gives him a better idea.
A Poem of Goodbye: Ivar x Reader. Short werewolf au
A Soft Love: Reader requested. A short, fluff filled oneshot.
Cat Boyfriend: Reader requested. A spell gone wrong and Ivar becomes part cat.
You Suck: Reader requested. Modern Ivar and Readers relationship start out with a wrong number text.
Catboy II: Reader requested some m/m smut for catboy Ivar. *Smut
To Remember Love: Reader requested. Ivar x male reader. Ivar thinks about his time with reader.
Sleeping At Last: Reader requested. Ivar and Reader have a fake wedding.
Ghost of You: Modern Ivar x reader. Goodbyes are always hard.
Love Beyond Religion: Reader requested. Ivar's men kidnap the wrong woman. *Smut
Lessons: Reader requested prequel for To Remember Love
The Last Letter: Ivar reads Hvitserk's suicide note.
The Proposal: Requested. Modern Ivar plans to propose but everything goes wrong.
Midterms: Reader requested. Modern Ivar and reader are scholastic rivals. *Smut
Edible Arrangements: a modern Hvitserk x reader fic. After his last one night stand sends him an edible arrangement as a thank you, reader has to know if he’s really that good in bed. *Smut
Forsworn: Hvitserk x reader. Inheritance Cycle AU. Hvitserk is one of the 13 Forsworn Dragon Riders, reader is nothing more than a slave in the castle.
Through the Years: modern Hvitserk x reader. following Hvitserk as he and reader grow up together as childhood sweethearts.
Haunted / Loved: Hvitserk x reader. Hvitserk finds that reader has the ability to chase away the ghosts.
His Huldra: Hvitserk x reader. Hvitserk meets a Huldra in the woods one day, she’s fallen in love with him after watching him for years.
Flour Fight: Modern Hvitserk x reader. Hvitserk and reader work in a bakery together and amidst a fight, have their first kiss.
Not Alone Anymore: Hvitserk x reader. The Gods granted him a vision of his soulmate, someone who knows his pain and all he wants to do is hold her in his arms.
Head Towards IHOP: Hvitserk x reader. When a camping trip goes horribly wrong, reader and Hvitserk end up lost in the woods for hours. It's alright though, the IHOP sign will lead them to safety.
Fucking Adorable: Reader requested. Modern Hvitserk finds reader to be absolutely adorable and wants to sweep her off her feet.
Bitemarks: Requested fic. Hvitserk shows his affection by biting reader. *Smut
Sickness: Reader requested. Hvitserk is overly dramatic when he's ill.
Missing Pieces: Modern Hvitserk x reader. Hvitserk was born sad - but being a single father and then later meeting the love of his life changes everything.
Art is the Weapon: Reader x Hvitserk. Set in a Killjoy / Danger Days AU
Pretty Boy: Transmasc!Hvitserk is woken up in the best way by his girlfriend. *Smut
The Club: Modern Hvitserk x reader. Ivar takes his brothers to a club and Hvitserk meets someone unexpected. *Smut
Moving Day: Modern Hvitserk x OFC. Hvitserk and his wife move into their new home
Puppy Love: A sequel to Cat Boyfriend. Hvitserk is part puppy. *Smut
Heart of Winter: Hvitserk x plus size reader x Bucky Barnes. A crossover au. Hvitserk was once a Winter Soldier. *smut
OnlyFans: Hvitserk asks Reader to help him film something for his OnlyFans. *Smut
The Basement Show: Hvitserk falls in love with a rockstar!OFC.
Hvitserk’s Reward: Ivar’s wife would like to reward Hvitserk for his friendship, who is Ivar to deny his queen anything? *smut
Heartbreak: Ivar x reader & Hvitserk x reader. Ivar fell in love with his best friend, now she’s sleeping in Hvitserk’s bed.
Ivar’s Hero: a short fic about Ivar’s thoughts on Hvitserk
That Which Haunts Us: Modern Ivar & Hvitserk x reader. reader moves into a new house and discovers that it’s haunted by Hvitserk’s ghost.
That Which Binds Us: part 2. Ivar and reader prepare for the Summer Solstice with Hvitserk. *Smut
No Goodbyes: Modern Ivar x reader x Hvitserk story. Teenagers with terminal illnesses have no reason to say goodbye.
Threesomes in Kyiv: Hvitserk x Reader x Ivar: Ivar's wife proposes the idea of a threesome. *smut
A Tale of a Witch and Two Brothers: Requested fic: Ivar x Witch!Reader x Hvitserk. Ivar's loss of virginity *Smut
Braids: Short, brotherly fluff of Ivar braiding Hvitserk's hair.
Angelic: Third part to OnlyFans. Hvitserk asks Ivar to fuck reader. *Smut
The Fox in the Woods: Reader requested. Reader is a fox. *smut
Lucky: Modern Trans!Hvitserk x Chubby!Reader x Æthelred. A little drabble to celebrate that yesterday was trans visibility day. Hvitserk has Y/N and Æthelred to love him and celebrate every mile stone and victory in his life. He truly is lucky. *Smut
Under the Stars: Ubbe x male reader. Ubbe and his boyfriend have a night under the stars on Kattegat’s beach
Wild Like Wolves: Ubbe has always felt guilt for Hvitserk's death - but a strange visitor within Kattegat tears all of his beliefs of the past apart.
Filming: a sequal to OnlyFans. Hvitserk shares Reader with Ubbe, under the condition that it needs to be filmed. *Smut
Flowers: Sigurd x reader. Reader’s not looking for someone who’s going to use and lose her immediately.
Cherries: Modern Bjorn x reader. Bjorn meets reader in a local bar and can’t keep his eyes off of her.
Precipice Heart: Bjorn x NB!Reader. Reader issues a challenge and Bjorn accepts.
Perks of Being Young: Modern Floki thinks about Helga’s death
Floki like Loki: Floki x reader. Floki is the Jotun, Loki Laufeyson. *Smut
Kissed by Sunlight: Torvi x reader. Reader thinks about her time with Torvi
A Life in Unreality: Ragnar x Fem!Reader. Reader makes a wish for Ragnar to be more than a character in their favorite show.
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mrsalwayswrite · 17 days ago
To Call Forth Love - Chapter 17
I'm back! I'm so sorry its taken me months to update. Life took a turn for the busy. During this time I've had people ask and I promise I have no intentions of abandoning this fic, even if it takes me months to update. I'm enjoying this story too much, and I hope you are too.
Also this chapter was a tough one to write. So I suggest you buckle up your seatbelts because the angst train is here since its Ivar's POV! Hopefully the length also makes up for the wait!
min skatt– my treasure
Words: 9400
Warnings: language, implied drug use, mild sexual content, brief mentions of violence, Ivar doesn't handle feelings well
Series Masterlist
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Ivar fucked up. 
He knew it. His family knew it. Hell, it might as well be broadcasted on global news at this point. 
He had fucked up. 
That thick, tar-like feeling of betrayal had coated his nerve endings, dulled his mind and made his black heart stone-cold. The sensation of betrayal was not unusual, but he hated it. With every cell of his body, he loathed it. Anger was an escape, a way to get out of the suffocating void that betrayal tried to drown him in. So he latched onto the familiar burn of anger, a welcomed friend by this point in his life. 
But when the fire burned out, when he could see past the comforting haze of red…it was to the sight of fear in Kari's blue-green eyes and tears running down her cheeks. 
Immediately, he knew he fucked up in the worst way possible. And when she ran from him, he could not blame her. Even if every step she took away from him was a knife repeatedly to the gut. But her expressive eyes, they told him how badly he had messed up. She had dealt with plenty of his shit but this…this was the line crossed. He could not even get mad at her for it, for self-loathing had wrapped its tentacles around him and squeezed. 
He had lost her. His gift from the gods. His kitten. 
His Kari. 
He vaguely remembered screaming and demanding his brothers and Floki release him. Could barely recall landing a solid punch to Sigurd that busted his knuckles and broke his brother's nose. Somehow he ended up on the floor whimpering her name with cold tears slipping from his eyes as Floki kept his arms wrapped around him, either to keep him restrained or to comfort, Ivar was unsure. But it did not matter. 
In a single moment, he knew he had lost her. 
And it was his own fucking fault. 
When Ragnar returned later, Ivar could barely get words to come out, his tongue felt heavy and his stomach full of stones. His father had taken one look at him and sighed. 
"Leave her alone. I told her you'd stay away. Don't make me fucking put security on you to keep away from her. She's got enough shit to deal with now."
Ivar nodded silently. Promising himself he would. 
But the next day he broke that promise. 
It was an all-consuming need to see her, to check on her, to make sure she did not despise him as much as he did himself. He tried to sneak away, however idiotic that was. A crippled bastard trying to sneak out of the house, where every footfall was as loud as a gong. Standing at the door, phone in hand to call a driver, Floki had found him. He took one look at the child of his heart and told him to get into his car. That he would drive him, but only this once. 
Ivar was unsure what he had expected when choosing to visit Kari. Hell, he was not even sure she would be home. All he knew was at some point during the night, while he laid awake on his bed, sleep evading him like a mocking ghost, he knew he had to see her. Fuck what Ragnar said. 
When she walked away, she had taken part of his heart with her. Whoever cliché that sounded, and he would never admit it aloud. Yet that was how it felt. And now he needed to know if he would ever get that blackened, bleeding organ back from her delicate, gentle hands. 
In his mind, the best case scenario of his unexpected arrival would involve her running into his arms, him reassuring her he never meant to hurt her, immediately followed by hot make-up sex that lasted for hours. 
The worst case scenario? He would walk in the door and she would shoot him. No…he would walk in the door and she would coldly tell him she never wanted to see him again, that whatever they had was over and how much she hated him. He would gladly take being shot instead of hearing her say anything like that. 
What he walked in on- seeing her curled up on the couch, with red-rimmed eyes and tear stains on her cheeks- that felt like someone took a whip at what remained of his heart and attempted to shred it. 
When he happened to notice the faintest discoloration along her jawline…the lashings began in earnest. 
Then her words, her hesitation. It all tore at him. 
"I need time, Ivar."
Another lashing of the whip. 
But he absorbed the pain, welcomed it because he deserved every stroke. What he did was unforgivable, but somehow he hoped she would. 
Gods, he hoped she could forgive him. 
He did not linger, feeling his concrete reinforced composure cracking under the weight of his self-loathing and turmoil. 
Thankfully, Floki never said a word when Ivar reentered the car. Nor did he question when Ivar put in a food order to be delivered to Kari. 
Afterwards, the entire drive was silent. 
Back at the house, he could feel Floki's shrewd gaze on him but he ignored it. He only spared his brothers a glance before retreating to his room. To the isolation and darkness there. To where he could cry without anyone seeing. 
At some point that despair morphed into anger and before he realized it, he found himself in the home gym. He had no recollection of walking out of his room and to the gym. But in the moment, it did not matter. All he cared about was ruthlessly pounding on the punching bag. 
All of his self-loathing. All of his anger directed at himself, at his family, at the whole fucking world. All of his pain and despair. All for it he poured into his punches. Each slam of his fist on the fabric drained a little more from the reservoir overflowing inside of him. 
When his bones broke under the onslaught, he never relented. 
As blood splattered the bag, the floor and himself, he persevered. 
His whole vision had tunneled into needing to feel the pain, into pouring out his frustration. He breathed in the pain and let it wash over him. 
He was not one for going to church, none of the Lothbroks were. But this. Each punch. Each sharp stab of pain. Each coating of blood flying from his own body. It all felt like a penance. It was no Hail Mary or Our Father. But this was even more raw, more real for Ivar. 
For he knew blood. He knew pain. 
What better way to atone for his sins than to punish himself with both?
He was unsure how long he slaved away at his personal penance until they found him. 
Ubbe and Hvitserk pinned him to the floor. His blood stained their hands. His heart and lungs were in overdrive yet his mind was blissfully silent. He could vaguely hear Floki say something about a broken hand and they needed to take him to the hospital. 
The rest of the night was spent with nurses and doctors, x-rays and a black cast on his hand and forearm. The sterile smell of the hospital burned his nose. The grating voices of the hospital staff asking questions and reading his extensive records irritated him. 
But he kept silent. 
All he could hope for, all he could pray for, was his atonement could somehow make up for his sins. That his blood shed could replace the pain he caused. 
That his offering would be enough.
The following day he spent in solitude. No matter how many times someone knocked on his door, he never answered. The one time Hvitserk tried to stick his head in, Ivar threw a drinking glass at him. Immediately after, Ivar cursed himself for the now shattered glass on the carpet. He knew he was acting pitiful yet he could not seem to rise above the deep well of depression and its thick cords wrapped around his body, dragging him further into its dark depths. 
The only person he willingly chose to answer was his mother, but that was more out of self-preservation when she continuously called him for three minutes straight without stopping. The conversation had been brief and then he returned to watching TV while laying on his bed, trying his hardest to ignore the cast on his right hand and forearm and how much it fucking sucked to deal with. 
At some point during the day, he had tossed his phone across the room, uncaring whether it broke or not. The temptation, the need, to text Kari, to call her, to profusely apologize and beg for her forgiveness was too much. She said she needed time. So he was going to damn well give it to her. 
Fuck, if he could just forget it all for a while. Instead of drowning in thoughts of her. Of his self-loathing. Of how he always fucked up the best things in his life. 
The next day an idea came to mind, a way to find a temporary reprieve from the swirling vultures of his thoughts. 
He just needed his brother's help.
Ivar and Hvitserk settled back onto the couches, the short table in front of them already with beers waiting for their pleasure. The loud thumping from the bass of the club's speakers could be felt in Ivar's chest. The shrill cries of the inebriation mixed with excitement filled the air as much as the music. 
He pointedly ignored the fact, this was the very place he first met Kari and became consumed by her. 
Ivar's fierce blue eyes scanned the crowd from his advantageous position about the main floor. For a Sunday night, the dance floor was packed and the line along the bar was full. He wondered if there was a special event or celebration causing it to be busier than normal. Not that he truly cared. The more people the better for his plan. 
"So why are we here, Ivar?" 
He looked over at his flaxen-haired brother. "I needed to get out."
"Yeah? Well I'm personally shocked this is the place you'd choose." Hvitserk waved to someone walking by that called his name but swiftly returned his attention to his younger brother. "So why are we here?"
"I told you–"
"And I'm calling bullshit, Ivar."
Ivar scoffed, taking a long draw of the beer in front of him. Only after initially reaching for the beer with his right hand and belatedly remembering it was in a cast before grabbing it with his left. It was a miracle he had not needed surgery for all the broken bones in his hand and wrist. The dumbass that he was, he had not even thought to wrap his hands before pummeling the punching bag. But what was another surgery to him? What was more broken bones to his crippled body? Physical pain was his closest companion. But this constant ache in his heart, this roiling torment, it was more than he could bear. 
Hvitserk sighed. "I know you're hurting– don't give me that look, asshole– it's obvious to everyone with eyes. Look, if you wanted to just get drunk, we could have done that at home. So why are we here? Do you need a distraction? Someone to suck your cock? Is that why we're here?"
Ivar leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, mirroring his brother's pose. "I need something to get me out of my fucked up mind for a while."
"Okay…I'll go order a bottle of–"
"No," Ivar interrupted, "I need something else. I need the good stuff, Hvits."
Hvitserk blinked for a moment before immediately shaking his head and leaning back, as if distancing himself emphasized his refusal. "Ivar, no."
Ivar waited a second before continuing. "You know who has the best quality, who doesn't fuck around."
"Ivar….I don't do that anymore–I won't…not this."
The youngest Lothbrok understood his brother's hesitation, his wariness. It was a closely concealed secret of their family about Hvitserk's prior drug addiction and how it had almost killed it. He had been clean for close to two years now, but Ivar knew he still had connections even if he did not partake in the sampling anymore. 
Ivar continued to stare at his older brother, just waiting. He knew he was an absolute, selfish bastard for asking this favor. Hvitserk had tried to protect his youngest brother as much as possible while he struggled with his addiction, and this was the one dark spot in Hvitserk's life that he tried to forget about or ignore. But right now, Ivar would do whatever necessary to get a break from his emotional pain. Including lying to his brother. 
Hvitserk ran a hand down his face. "Just this once." 
"Just this once." Ivar agreed.  
He stood up, giving Ivar one more long look as if hoping Ivar would change his mind. When Ivar only stared back, Hvitserk shook his head, and wandered off with a "stay here" over his shoulder. 
The dark-haired Lothbrok leaned back on the couch, arms across the back and surveyed the crowd once again. Years ago he had experimented with different substances, usually alongside Hvitserk, but while his brother enjoyed the sensations, Ivar did not. His mind was his greatest weapon, his most prolific asset. He disliked having his senses affected and his mind sluggish or useless. There had also been one too many accidents that left him in the hospital due to broken bones or lacerations that made him rethink the continued use. He did not mind getting a buzz from drinking, it was almost an obligation during family events, but he still felt in control then.
Tonight though, he wanted out of his head. Even for a little while. 
Feeling eyes on him, his predatory gaze shifted towards the half stairs leading up to the restricted seating area. His blue eyes locked with a pair of bright green ones, belonging to a blonde with a black and gold dress that hugged her fit form like it had been painted on. He continued to watch her, curious to see what she would do next. Instead of looking away, she met his gaze head-on, running a finger along the low neckline of her dress. 
A smirk grew on Ivar's face as he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her over. 
It did not take long until his cock was down her throat. 
He allowed the sweet bliss to fill him, to cloud his mind and focus on the pleasure her skilled tongue gave him. But even then, it was still Kari's name on the tip of his tongue when he came. 
Darkness swaddled Ivar in its cocoon of warmth, keeping him safe and at peace. Here, nothing mattered. In the darkness, he was nothing and everything. A serenity floated through and around him, even when his dreams were caked in blood and screams. Nothing could touch or harm him….
….until the abrupt sensation of cold water splashed across his face, delivering him back to the realm of the living. 
"Fuckkkk….what the fuck?" Ivar groaned after jerking awake and wiping the water off this face. Now his pillow was wet. Whoever disturbed him was going to fucking die. Well, once the pounding in his head, echoing his heartbeat, stopped and pain no longer flared behind his eyelids. Fuck, the nausea churning in his gut threatened to escape its weak confines. His stomach itself was attempting to claw its way out of his body. Why did everything fucking hurt? What kind of hangover from hell was this? 
"Mmm….what's going on, baby?" A sleep-laced, feminine voice said from beside him. 
Her voice grated against his ears, only intensifying the psychotic marching band that had taken up residence in his brain. "Shut the fuck up." He growled as he screwed his eyes shut. 
A signature giggle came from the end of the bed, quickly followed by, "does your head hurt? That's a shame."
Silently, Ivar begged all the gods he knew of to kill him now. He could not deal with that deranged madman today. His whole body was revolting against him at the moment. Even his thoughts staggered and rolled like a drunken sailor onboard a ship. Why was everyone talking so loudly? Was it even possible for sound to hurt this much?
Of course, because the universe hated him and despised him since birth, the feminine voice began shrieking and flailing about on the bed. The hammers striking against his brain with each heartbeat magnified their strength, as if wielded by gods themselves. He groaned loudly, digging the heels of his hands into his forehead, wishing death on everyone who dared to make a single sound.  
Finally, when he could not take her wordless panicking anymore, he rolled over (his stomach reminding him of the physical revolt it was currently throwing) and slapped his hand harshly over the woman's mouth. 
"Shut up!" 
After a moment, he could feel her give a slight nod and only then did he release her. With that, he finally opened his eyes. The morning light blazed through the window, the curtains fully drawn back allowing maximum light into the room. His eyes slammed shut once more, refusing to suffer another level of torture.  
"Fucking sadists." He mumbled, pressing his face back into his damp pillow. He must have spoken loud enough because that signature giggle followed his statement, sending another wave of pain shooting through his brain.
Fingers abruptly started running through his hair and down his bare back. An attempt at soothing him but instead it did the opposite. His body stiffened and his fists clenched even as he laid face down on the bed. 
"Don't touch me." He hissed through clenched teeth. 
The fingers stilled. 
Carefully he tilted his head and peeked over at the woman beside him. What he saw made him immediately regret it and curse his subconscious desires. She had brown hair that most likely had been straightened last night but was now sleep-tousled, with hints of curls returning. The mascara and eye shadow around her blue eyes was smudged. Full lips sat under a small, straight nose. 
Wordlessly, Ivar turned away from her and felt his heart crack at the sight. He knew what it was and hated what his drunk self had done. With just that single glance, he knew his drunk self had chosen her for the faint similarities she had with Kari. Apparently his subconscious would only bring someone like her into his bed now. Gods, what was fucking wrong with him? 
"Get out."
"What?" She questioned softly, her hand still on his shoulder.
He turned his head to glare at her. "Fucking leave."
"But baby…you said last night that you needed me. You made me promise to stay." 
And there was the knife twisting in his gut, but he ignored the pain. He needed her and her irritating touch gone. He needed to wallow in his pain alone and without someone to remind him of his mistakes. Why the fuck would his drunk self pick her? What kind of masochist was he? 
He closed his eyes, no longer willing to look at her. Someone that would never fulfill the throbbing ache in his chest. "Leave or I'll gut you." 
He could sense the warring within her, the confusion and hesitation, and he wondered what else he had blathered at her about last night. What lies and promises had he spewed at her, even if it was truly another person those words were meant for. 
"I suggest you go. I'm not in the mood to clean up blood today." Another bodiless voice said from somewhere in the room. 
Ivar turned his head towards the voice but kept his eyes closed. "Hvits?"
"Morning, brother."
"Ugh. Fuck you."
His brother's answering chuckle made Ivar want to stab someone. Repeatedly. 
The bed began to shift as the Kari look-alike started to get out, but when she tugged on the blanket to cover her nakedness, Ivar yanked the blanket back. He heard the quiet, surprised gasp but there was no remorse in him. She could parade naked down to the lobby for all he gave a shit. Shuffling and footsteps followed a clicking of what he assumed was the bathroom door. 
"Here, you ungrateful bastard. Move that ass."
Ivar rolled over and carefully sat up. The room spun like a carnival ride and he held his head for a long moment, swearing and cursing amidst the pain. Once he was able to overcome the rising nausea, he accepted the water and pills, knowing he needed them since he doubted the two intruders would leave him alone anytime soon. Damn them. 
As he sipped on the water, the bathroom door opened. The woman came out, wearing a maroon dress that looked like someone had taken artistic license to while wielding a knife. She met his eyes, holding one black heel. But whatever she was hoping for, Ivar refused to give her. He slid his gaze away from her, focusing straight ahead and the ugly artwork in the hotel room he found himself in. What hotel was this? It did not look familiar. He heard her scoff and her footsteps move towards the door. 
"Hvitserk, help her out." The asshole said, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. 
After the door closed, a pregnant silence fell on the two left in the hotel room. Ivar continued to sip on the water, staring straight ahead. The throbbing in his head felt relentless and his body ached as if he had gone a few rounds in the boxing ring. He thought about asking for someone to close the curtains, but his companion began speaking and it overshadowed his internal pain. 
"Did I ever tell you about the time I lost my daughter in the woods?" Floki quietly asked. 
Ivar's ears perked up, even as he kept staring forward. Floki hardly talked about his only child. Ivar had vague memories of her, influenced by his own young age since they were born a year apart. But he could never forget how at four years old she had died from leukemia. One of his earliest solid memories was watching Floki silently weeping as he cradled a hysterical Helga to his chest, his eyes never straying from the pyre he had built for his daughter's body. 
Without waiting for Ivar's answer, he continued. "Hmmm….it was one of the few times she wasn't in the hospital. She was like her mother, always wanting fresh flowers, listening to the birds' sing, smiling at the sun. It was…" He sighed, and Ivar could hear the pain and regret in the man's voice. 
"I needed a new tree for a boat and I promised she could come with me. She was so small for her age, so fragile. I got distracted…found the perfect tree and was measuring it. But that was long enough for her to wander off. The panic I felt, Ivar, I can't tell you the complete goddamn terror I experienced as I tried to find my little girl. When she didn't reply as I screamed her name…I thought she'd–" This time he shook his head. "I finally found her, watching birds in the trees above. I scolded her severely, made her cry, but then I hugged her like my life depended on it. I'll never forget the terror I felt that day. Even though it's been over twenty years and she's been gone just as long. I'll never forget." The last sentence came out in a whisper, an audible ode to the harrowing event. 
The next several seconds passed in silence before Ivar broke it. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Do you know what day it is, Ivar?"
"What? Why does that fucking matter?"
Floki reached out his long arm and swatted the side of Ivar's head. "Because you selfish, crippled bastard, you've been missing for thirty hours."
"The fuck–'"
"Ivar, listen," Floki interrupted before Ivar could question the validity of the statement. "The gods may have taken my daughter but they gifted me you as a son. And the fear I felt when Hvitserk told me he couldn't find you and you weren't answering your phone…I should beat your ass. I'm too old to deal with this shit anymore."
Ivar sat mutely, his mind reeling with everything Floki had said. How could he be missing for that long? That made no sense. He remembered going to the club with Hvitserk and his brother bringing him the chosen poison and deliverance he had practically begged for. Then there was a girl with blue eyes….or were they green? He could vaguely recall, like looking through a cloudy window, talking with someone about how they had more of the good stuff at their apartment. He remembered huge tits in his face and a woman moaning his name above him. 
He glanced down at his right hand, seeing the cast on it still. There were new drawings and several phone numbers on it now from a bright silver marker. Why could he not remember any of that? When did he arrive at the hotel? What kind of shit had he been on? 
Logically, he knew Floki had every right to scold him. It was a miracle it was not Ragnar himself chastising him. All the Lothbroks knew that with their rise in power and business accomplishments, it also painted a target on their backs for any that would seek to undermine or destroy them. For one of them to go missing…that would become paramount. Everything else would screech to a staggering halt until the missing person was returned. And for it to be him…with the vast wealth of information and security locked away in his mind. It could easily eradicate the company and their family if that knowledge was given to the wrong person. 
As if sensing where Ivar's thoughts led, Floki softly spoke. "Your father doesn't know. He thinks you've been holed up at home. Hvitserk came to me."
A whoosh of air expelled from his lungs, draining the staggering concern and stress that had momentarily crashed over him. "Thanks." He murmured. 
"I know you're hurting. You can't deny what my old eyes see. So I've one question for you…what in the hel are you doing, boy?"
"What are you–"
Floki swatted his head again. "Have you numbed the pain? Do you feel better now?"
"Fuck off. You don't know–"
"And that's where you're wrong again, foolish child. I do know." He leaned forward, forcing Ivar's gaze to meet his, the bed shifting under the movement. "What happened with Kari? I drove you there, if you can even remember. I didn't push you then, but I think I damn well deserve an answer. Saved your dumbass from punching through the bag and now this….what happened?"
Ivar flinched but knew the father of his heart was correct. Especially with it just being the two of them, he knew he could speak freely. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words stuck there. What agony he had tried to temporarily escape flooded him. Wave after wave slammed into his chest, especially with the reminder that even drunk and high, he still craved her. Waking up to find someone not her beside him. The pounding in his head was subsiding but now his heart took the brunt of the pain. 
Ripping his gaze away from Floki's, he stared down at the empty cup in his hand. His thoughts and memories swirled and clashed, like an intricate swordplay. But those edges were live and sharp, cutting and slashing at him with every pass. Her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. The fear and pain in her eyes. The mark he left on her. The self-loathing that threatened to shatter his control. The desperate need to forget and escape. Pain and blood. Gods, he has fucked up. 
Why did he always fuck everything up? 
"She said she needed time." He whispered. "She said….fuck– I can't remember everything, but she didn't want to see me. She said….she knows I'm sorry but she still needed time." His eyes blurred, tears welling in them, as he finally looked back up at his companion. Thick emotion choked his throat, making it hard to speak. "What if she…Floki, I can't lose her. I can't–"
Floki gathered Ivar into his arms and just held him as he cried. The youngest Lothbrok could not remember the last time someone held him as he cried like this, his body quivering with the sobs ripped from his very soul. Most likely his mother or Floki, but that would have been years ago. For he had learned to wrap himself in his anger, allowing his fury to be the suit of armor needed to protect him from the world and all the ways it attempted to rend him apart. 
But then she walked into his life, with her soft curves, kind heart and ability to see past all his barriers, to see past the thorns and thistles wrapped around his blackened heart, to hear the faint beating there, and to cherish its sound. For her to choose him, to want him for simply being Ivar. 
He was undone by her. And yet, he had never felt more powerful and happy than when he was with her. 
Eventually his tears subsided, draining him completely. He leaned back against the headrest of the bed as Floki went to refill his water cup. His body still ached, his stomach unsteady and his head hurt from the hangover and from the crying. It felt like someone had stuck a hose in him and sucked all the vitality out of him, leaving him a dry husk of who he should be, or rung out like a rag and tossed onto the floor to be trampled. 
Floki handed over the new cup of water, settling back onto the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, Ivar drank it slowly, even as he suppressed the urge to just chug it. He was not that stupid. It would most likely come back up. And he despised the taste of vomit. 
Of course, the old man delved into a new level of cruelty. Instead of sitting silently and allowing Ivar time to recover, he resumed speaking. 
The asshole. 
"How do you think Kari would feel if she found you like this? Hmmm?" He asked thoughtfully, as if they were speculating about the weather. "Think she'd take your ass back seeing you hungover like this? Or hearing about all the women you apparently fucked? Hmmm? Why should she want you after this?" 
Shame rolled in his gut, rising with the nausea he could taste in the back of his throat. "She doesn't want me anymore."
Floki swatted his head again. "Damn foolish boy, can't see past his own nose."
"Stop fucking hitting me." Ivar growled. 
"Oh, I'll hit you enough times until you start using that brain of yours." Floki leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, a calculating look in his eyes as he observed the dark-haired Lothbrok. "You want her back?"
Ivar furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?"
"You still want her, yes?"
"What kind of dumb, fucking question is that? She's the reason I–"
"Yes or no, Ivar."
"Yes!" Ivar threw the cup, hearing it hit the nearby wall but kept his gaze locked on Floki's, a tension swirling around them like a rising tide. "Fuck! Yes, I need her! Gods, I miss her so much it hurts!"
"Good." Floki nodded. "You want her back. Now prove it."
"But she said…"
"Yes, yes, she needs time. That doesn't give you the excuse to fuck off and be a disaster. She could still choose you…." Floki's calculating gaze intensified, immediately making Ivar uneasy, "....but not if you're like this. I'll keep her away from you myself if you keep this shit up."
"You wouldn't."
Floki giggled. "Think I won't? I might not know her well, but I do know she deserves better than this." He accused, gesturing to Ivar. 
And he was right. 
Ivar had always known Kari deserved better than someone like him. She was too pure. Too good. She was the bright, summer sunshine and he was the devastating, dark storm waiting on the horizon. And now…gods, would she even look at him if she knew the self-destruction he had spiraled into because he could not handle her loss? The potential of her rejection. Would she pity him? Would she become even more fearful of him? Would she hate him? 
Would she feel betrayed if she knew he had picked someone that looked like her to blindly fuck in a drunken attempt to alleviate his misery? Shit…she would probably never speak to his sorry ass again. And why should she? He had raged at her when hearing she had gone out on a date and here he had been fucking any woman he could. 
Why would she want him now? What goddamn right did he had to demand of her loyalty if he could not give his own? 
And yet he still wanted her. Still needed her. Would do whatever it took to win her back. To prove how much she meant to him. Even after all the shit he had done. It was still her he thought of constantly, that he wanted by his side, that he wanted to talk to and listen to her laugh, that he wanted to kiss and hold and make love to. Even if fucking was the only thing he knew. He wanted to learn how to make love with her. Floki said to prove it. But how? And the answer to that eluded Ivar. 
Slowly, Ivar shifted his gaze back to meet the piercing eyes watching him. He sighed quietly before speaking. "What do I do?" 
Floki studied him for a long moment before smiling. "You're coming home with me to Norway. Helga has been asking when you're coming to stay and I want you to see my new boat."
Ivar thought about it then shrugged. "Fine." It was probably the best place for him at the moment anyway. 
"Yeah, you ungrateful bastard. I'd drag your ass there anyway. My Helga always gets what she wants."
"You're whipped, Floki."
"Yeah, so are you."
Ivar groaned at the shit-eating grin on Floki's face but could not deny it. Not this time. With all his confessions and actions, it would be futile to try and deny it. 
Pushing himself off the bed, Floki started to search around the hotel room. "Where's your clothes, boy?"
"Stop calling me that."
"When you stop acting like a spoiled brat, I will."
"Fuck off."
"No, we've got a plane to catch and I highly doubt you can walk a straight line."
"Fuck me." Ivar groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in resignation while Floki's giggles filled the room. 
It took some time for Floki to locate all of Ivar's things. Thankfully, Ivar still had his pants on. Not that it surprised him. Even drunk and high, apparently his subconscious still was overly aware of the state of his mangled legs and did not want others to see them. Amidst copious amounts of swearing, Floki plying him with an excessive amount of water, and only one trip to the bathroom to puke up half of the contents of his stomach, the two of them finally made it out of the hotel. 
The morning sunlight burned Ivar's eyes as he stepped outside, refueling the hammering in his head. Squinting, he could see Hvitserk standing just off to the side of the door, smoking a cigarette. Without a word, he moved to join his brother. 
"You look like shit." Hvitserk greeted him. "Smell like sex and vodka."
Ivar took the offered cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling it curl in his lungs. "It's an improvement over what you always look like."
His brother snorted, taking the cigarette back. "Here." He handed over a pair of sunglasses. 
With a nod of thanks, Ivar slipped them on gratefully. 
"Don't ever pull this shit again. I was worried." Hvitserk stated as he handed the cigarette back over. 
"I know. I think Floki will kill me if I do."
"Slowly and painfully!" The asshole yelled out from where he stood a few paces away on the phone. 
Hvitserk chuckled while Ivar rolled his eyes.
"You good?"
Ivar thought about his answer, about all the revelation he had received up in the hotel room and what all Floki had said to him. He answered softly, "I will be." 
Hvitserk hummed. "Might want to get tested soon. The number of girls who sucked your cock at the club….if I wasn't so pissed at you, I'd say you deserve an award. Then you fucked off when I walked away and I couldn't fucking find you."
Ivar smirked, as he finished off their now shared cigarette, dropping the butt to the ground and watching Hvitserk step on it. 
The three of them loaded up in Hvitserk's car and headed towards the brothers' house. Head against the window, eyes closed during the drive, Ivar listened to Floki's words replay over and over in his mind. How could he 'prove it'? What did that even mean? 
He decided to analyze that more later when he was not hungover and exhausted. 
Once they finally made it back to the house, Ivar trudged to his room, ignoring the sounds of his family. What in the hell were they doing here in the late morning? Making a quick side trip to vomit once more then pop some strong pain pills he kept in his bathroom, he grabbed a few essentials from his room to bring with him to Floki's. 
Over the years, one of the spare bedrooms in Floki's house had become Ivar's since he spent so much time with them, especially as a child. It was the only place Aslaug would allow her youngest to go without her ever-watchful eyes on him. With the frequency and duration of time spent there, it had become easier to leave a decent amount of clothing and other personal belongings to await his return. 
With a backpack slung over his back, he grabbed his cane and his computer bag. That would be sufficient for now. If he needed something later, it would not be hard to have his father or brothers deliver it to him. 
Voices coming from the kitchen drew his attention and he headed that way after exiting his bedroom. He could hear Ubbe arguing with someone and mild shock spilled over him to hear Gyda. What the fuck was she doing here? And who the hell pissed her off so badly? However much she tried not to associate with the Lothbrok business and keep herself clear of all that entailed, she was certainly a Lothbrok through and through. Her temper alone was evidence of that. 
Stepping into the kitchen, he could see Gyda squaring off to Ubbe, hands on her hips and tension coating every inch of her body. Ubbe stood meeting her gaze head-on, arms over his chest. Hvitserk and Floki stood off to the side, seemingly watching the verbal sparring take place with no intention to intervene. Of course, Hvitserk had food in his mouth, one of his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. 
Hearing his footsteps and cane tapping as he entered the room, all eyes focused on him. Before he could question what was going on, the tall, blonde female practically flew across the room to shove him. It was only through sheer instinct and luck that he managed to only stumble backward and not lose his balance, having to drop his computer bag to reach out for a nearby wall to steady himself. 
"What the fu–"
"If you lay a finger on Kari again, I swear I will castrate you…" Gyda spat through gritted teeth with a vengeful fire blazing in her eyes. "...and then I'll cut off all your fingers, one by one. I don't give a single fuck that you're family. You hurt her again, I WILL come for you. Do you understand?" 
"Yes." Ivar slowly enunciated, fury boiling in his chest at her threats. But for once, he kept his anger in check.
"Good." She took a step back, hands returning to her hips. It was now she eyed him critically, as if seeing him for the first time. "Holy hell, you do look like shit. I'm still pissed enough I'll beat your sorry ass with your own cane though."
"Gyda, leave him alone, alright?" Ubbe said, coming around the large kitchen island. "You delivered your message, that's enough now."
Any other time, Ivar might have sneered at Ubbe attempting to be the peacemaker in the family, like always. But right now, he was too exhausted, too heartsore, too grateful for his older brother stepping in to say anything. It was taking all the miniscule strength he barely possessed to not lash out at Gyda, even if a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Gyda was only standing up for her friend. He met Ubbe's eyes for a moment, hoping he could see the thanks in them before dropping his eyes to his cane in hand. 
Floki came over to his side, picking up the dropped computer bag. "Ready?"
He just silently nodded. The frustration and anger coiled and burned in his chest but he bit his tongue for once. Gyda had every right to be pissed at him. Part of him wondered who told her about what happened between him and Kari. 
Without a word, Ivar started towards the front door, Floki by his side. The two of them were almost to the door when Hvitserk called out his name, drawing closer. 
"Don't stab me, but I'm going to hug you." Hvitserk quickly informed him before doing exactly that. And to both of their astonishment, Ivar readily reciprocated the hug. Neither of them acknowledged the tight grip Ivar had on Hvitserk's shirt, as if in that moment, his brother's touch was the only thing keeping him from crumbling. 
"I'll keep an eye on her. I promise." Hvitserk whispered, pulling back enough to press his forehead against his youngest brother's. 
"Thanks." Ivar murmured, although it came out more as a strangled croak. 
Emotions rising and warring inside him, alongside the unrelenting hangover, he trudged towards the car waiting outside for them. Seeing which driver it was waiting for them, Ivar was thankful it was one that preferred silence instead of background music. Minutes later, they were on the road, heading to the airport and the private Lothbrok plane waiting for them there. 
With eyes closed once again, he could not tear his thoughts away from Kari. Not after Hvitserk's comment. 
He wondered what she was doing. Was she working today? Had her cramps gotten better? What was she thinking about? Did she miss him yet? It was now he realized how much he looked forward to their conversations, even if it was just over texting. She always made him smile somehow. His own personal sunshine amidst the dark clouds and storm that was his life. His kitten. Did he brighten her day as much as she did his? 
An idea popped into his mind and without overthinking it for once, he acted on it. 
Less than five minutes later, a bouquet of tulips was on its way to her with his message. 
He turned the screen off his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. Gods, he prayed she liked the flowers. She had said they were her favorite. She would be less likely to toss them in the garbage then, right? Fuck. He hoped she liked the gesture, that it brightened her day. 
Floki's advice still swirled in his mind, like a maelstrom. Kari had told him to stay away, that she needed time. He could– no, he would honor that. She needed space from him. And she deserved it. But that did not mean he was going to let her go. Fuck that shit. He needed her. He silently swore to himself to do everything possible to show her how sorry he was for his actions and how much he missed her. 
To prove how much she meant to him. 
Ivar stared out at the gorgeous scenery spread out before him like a painting masterpiece. The steep walls of the Norwegian fjord rose above the glittering blue river. The trees appeared ablaze with what was left of autumn's colors, transforming summer's green to something warmer. A deception to the present chill in the air, a taste of the coming winter. He could practically feel the impending cold in his bones. 
His thoughts though were miles away from the picturesque scenery before him. He tapped his phone absent-mindedly against his leg with his left hand, since his right was still in its cast. Which was thankfully back to its original black and without random phone numbers in it. It had only taken a call to the local hospital to have them willing to redo his cast without any questions. One of the many times Ivar appreciated how easily he could use his name to bypass regulations and rules. 
"Did you decide yet?"
"Yeah." A small smile turned up the corners of his lips. "I ordered the Armani sweater and Dior jacket."
Helga settled onto the wooden Adirondack chair next to Ivar's, her blonde hair catching in the faint breeze. "I bet she'll love them."
"Of course she will." She leaned over, whispering conspiracingly. "Think Floki will buy those for me?"
He chuckled. "If he doesn't, I will."
Laughing, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I've missed having you here. Even if most of the time, you've been holed up in your room on your laptop."
He rolled his eyes at her pointed look. "I've been working."
"I know. Floki told me. I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping."
His brows pinched together as he tried to figure out how she knew that. Helga typically turned in early and rose with the dawn, quite opposite of Ivar who was a night owl. Aware of that, he made sure to be as quiet as possible when moving around the house, not wishing to disturb her or Floki when he finally retired for the night. At that point, he usually returned to his room but would remain awake for hours more, face illuminated by his computer or phone as he worked feverishly. If he let his mind wander freely too much, it would descend into solemn depths, he would rather avoid. 
"Floki told me. He hears you moving around–"
"That asshole never sleeps either." Ivar muttered. 
"--and those bags under your eyes are looking like you got into Floki's 'war paint'." 
He smirked as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. "If I hide it again, what do you think he'll do?"
"Knowing what happened last time you stole it and drew penises all over the side of his shed….gods, what were you? Fifteen?" She shook her head, unable to fully restrain the amused, fond smile on her face, highlighting the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. 
He grinned mischievously. "I was thirteen, but it was all Hvitserk's idea though."
"Uh huh. I highly doubt that."
The door opening had both of them turning their heads to see Floki stepping out onto the back deck. He stepped out in his usual brown pants and dark, long-sleeve shirt, the tattoos on the sides of his head clearly visible. He must have finished shaving his head before coming out. Ivar silently wondered if Floki and Helga even noticed anymore that their attire always seemed to match in some way. Today, Floki's shirt was a dark, forest green, the color matching Helga's dress, even as it was covered in a floral design. Maybe they were so in tune with one another by this point in their decades long marriage, it was instinctual or unconscious. 
A stray thought drifted through Ivar's mind, questioning if Kari and himself would ever be like that….he quickly brushed it away. 
"He lives!' Floki gestured towards Ivar as he came closer. "I thought you'd finally died from glaring at your laptop. Save us all from your complaining and moaning. I was preparing to drag your crippled, scrawny ass down and throw you in a funeral boat."
"Like an old, fat fucker like you could carry me."
"Ivar, language!" Helga chastised. 
"You see the abuse I have to deal with, min skatt?" Floki plopped on the arm of Helga's chair, wrapping his arm around her and faux pouting. "And I even shared my Brennivín with him."
She poked his side, making him giggle. "You just wanted an excuse to open the new bottle."
He hummed, noncommittally, before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to his wife's lips. 
Ivar dropped his gaze to his lap. Not because he was uncomfortable with their displays of affection, but because it made his heart ache. He had that and he fucked it up. He had someone to hold and kiss and tease, but he allowed himself to become blinded by perceived betrayal instead of trusting her. Someone who had only ever been genuine and selfless with him.  
It was almost a week and a half since he destroyed whatever it was that was blooming between them, something he had never experienced before but craved now with every cell in his deformed body. Six days had passed since he arrived in Norway with Floki. 
He had not heard from his kitten since she had texted him in thanks about the food he ordered when he found her on the couch. He could not think about it too much or he knew he would drive himself mad again. The gaping hole in his chest still bled her name, weeped with missing her touch. 
He appreciated Floki returning home with him. There was a peace here, tucked away in the woods outside Kattegat, that he had never found anywhere else. Not even in his childhood house in the city. Maybe it was the location? Maybe it was the two people who filled it with pieces of themselves and transformed it from a house to a home? Whatever it was, Ivar was grateful to be here. 
The only problem was the silence at night that pursued him. His demons of regret, self-loathing and insecurity stalked him in the darkness, wrapping their claws around his throat to strangle whatever buds of hope tried to blossom in his cheat. 
So he threw himself into his work. Ignoring his body screaming for sleep until he passed out from exhaustion or drinking with Floki. He continued to monitor the traitorous fucker, further tightening the strings of his web until soon it would bind the turncoat and keep him immobile. 
Then Ivar had lethal plans. 
Until then, he kept an eye on other endeavors for Ragnar. Both for the company and off the books, anything to keep his mind busy. More often than not, he would work through the night, not even aware of the sun's arrival until he checked the time. Yet she still invaded his mind with frequency. It certainly did not help that third day, he had drunkenly proclaimed to Floki and Helga, he would send flowers to Kari every day until she took him back. 
Floki had laughed.  
Helga had sighed then leaned forward and told him to stop sending flowers and send something meaningful. 
So far, he had no intentions of ceasing his array of offerings. But he had hoped….wished that by now, she would have texted him. At least thanked him for some of the presents. All he had gotten was radio silence. It burned like ice held against his skin for too long. A permanent chill took up residence in his chest, tightening its grasp on him with each passing day. 
He knew she had received the packages. He was notified every time something was delivered but he also had a contact keeping an eye on her for him. Would she never speak to him again if she learned that she was being watched and followed? Most likely. But she already was giving him the silent treatment and he could not with good conscience allow her to be unprotected. He might not be around anymore but that did nothing to lessen his compelling need to keep her safe. 
Hvitserk text him frequently, sometimes making a passing comment about how Kari was doing since he checked in with her often. Hearing the snippets of their conversations was both a knife to the chest, twisting and further ripping at his heart but also a cooling balm. To hear she was doing alright and she did not hate his family nor him. That she really did just need time to think. 
But how much time? How much longer could he keep waiting? Why would she not just fucking talk to him? Yell at him. Scream until his ears bled. Break one of his bones to help her feel better. Gods, he would let her do anything if it would create a bridge over the void between them. 
He just wanted to know if she thought of him as often as his thoughts turned towards her. 
Sighing, he glanced down at his phone in his hand, bombarded with alerts and notifications but not from the one person he wanted. 
Should he text her? Was it up to him to open that door of communication? But she said she needed time….why was all of this so damn confusing? Why did he have to fuck everything up in the first place?
"I'll go start on dinner." Helga announced, standing up. "Ivar, you should order those books for her next. That was a good idea."
He nodded silently, sending her a small, grateful smile.  
After Helga left, the two men sat in the quietness of nature, gazing out over the water and fjord of Norway. A comfortable silence hovered over them. 
Suddenly, Ivar's phone started ringing, startling him. With a raised brow, he unlocked the screen and brought the phone to his ear. 
"How's that vacation of yours?"
"Fuck off."
His father chuckled darkly before clearing his throat and turning serious. "Think you're sober enough to deal with our traitor?"
Ivar tensed, even as his stomach flipped and his fingers twitched in anticipation. "When?"
"Two days."
Ragnar hummed thoughtly then continued. "He still has no notion we are aware of his activities, correct?"
Ivar snorted. "That goddamn fucker tried to send out information about your supplier in Libya…which does Bjorn even know about this supplier?"
"Not a fucking word, Ivar."
"Yeah, figured." Ivar scoffed, his hand tapped repetitively on his knee as his mind raced. "I'll leave tomorrow. Get everything ready there."
"Excellent. Tell Floki I need him next week."
The click on his phone notified Ivar that his father was no longer on the line and had not even attempted to end the call with a 'goodbye'. Like normal. 
"Ragnar needs you next week." Ivar said, leaning back once again in his seat. Weeks of work, weeks of pouring through files and coded messages while digging deeper and deeper into the mire of corruption and betrayal. All of it would finally come into the light. All his hard work would showcase the snake he had caught, slithering through the henhouse. If only it had known Ivar was the bigger predator, with long-reaching claws and limitless resources. 
"Hmmm….and what's got you so happy?" Floki asked, breaking Ivar from his thoughts. 
He had not even realized a menacing smile covered his lips. Chuckling darkly, he could almost taste the spilled blood on his tongue. He stared straight ahead as he answered Floki, his gaze no longer seeing the fjord but a dark room where justice would be served. "My web has entangled a snake. And now it's time to rip its fangs out and watch it scream as I bleed it dry." 
Tag List:
Vikings (all)
@youbloodymadgenius @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @adrille88 @quantumlocked310 @errruvande-2-0
To Call Forth Love 
@heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @avoidanceishowiroll @maggyme13 @that-virgo-witch @cdauni @istorkyou @smears-and-spotss @resichen2406 @jessi-lynn-h @heathengurrrl71 @harleyquinn3289 @ivarlover @complicatedbutrare
@breezykpop @frankie-undead-dame
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lemonworldmp3 · 10 months ago
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we are going to lift the boats up the cliff.
vikings / s4e08: portage
480 notes · View notes
ivarthebadbitch · a year ago
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Vikings + animals
(thanks @philomaela for helping me track down ragnar and the goat!)
651 notes · View notes
incorrectvikings · 2 months ago
Floki: When crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, it’s “intelligent” and “really cool.” But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to move on.”
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Searching home
Summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long.
Pairing: adoptivemom!Helga x reader; adoptivesibling!Tanaruz x reader; (skeptic) adoptivedad!Floki x reader; Ivar x reader, Hvitserk x reader; Tanaruz’ family and reader
Notes: tw: mentions/attempts of s/a (this includes a raid so…) back on my time traveler shit rn, the reader is a slight OC (in a sense that she has similar outer characteristics as Angrboda)
inspired by a gifset from @ivarthebadbitch​ that i can’t find rn
My Norse translator: https://lingojam.com/OldNorsetoEnglishTranslator
tagged: @alicedopey | Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 requests are OPEN!
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 The only words you could say when the merchants guided you to their townhouse were “Salam aleikum.”
 They seemed to understand that but smiled at your pronunciation. In time, you learned more of the language of course, which meant that you could hold short conversations with the couple and their daughter, Tanaruz.
 Tanaruz took to you quickly, introducing you to her friends and pulling you along during the day to show you all nooks and crannies of Algeciras. You drew eyes to you, with your height and paleness, together with light eyes and long, blond hair that was almost white.
 In turn, you tried your best to learn the language and culture and entertain Tanaruz, who found you extremely funny for some reason (you suspected it was your terrible Arabic).
 While you never thought that you’d enjoy living in an early medieval civilization, Algeciras was much better than anticipated. It was clean, the people were kind and the weather warm. Your days were much simpler, with a lot of free time when everyone else prayed in the mosques.
 Somehow, they respected you not wanting to go with them.
 Tanaruz’ parents, Aamir and Zoha sold oranges and other citrus fruits on the market, along with chai. In the evenings, the four of you would meet at their stall to eat and close it up. It was simple, a nice reprieve from modern life. Tonight was no different.
 Until it was.
 Suddenly, the quiet night air was filled with screams. Panicked, you looked around until you saw them.
 Men and women armed to the teeth slaughtering everything in their way. You scrambled to get up, ready to run when two reached your stall. Their faces were heavily tattooed and one of them gave you a hungry look.
 Then, he turned away and stabbed Aamir. You clapped your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. Zoha’s eyes were wide with terror, searching for Tanaruz, who was crouched under the stall.
 She looked over to you, a sort of beg in her eyes and you understood, diving towards Tanaruz, and grabbing her by the arm roughly.
 As the two of you began running, you heard Zoha scream Tanaruz’ name, before choking on her own blood. You couldn’t look back, Aamir’s death had been bad enough.
 You’d never seen anyone die, much less in front of you, and now, two people that had taken care of you out of the goodness of their hearts had been brutally murdered. Trying not to let your tears blind you, you pulled Tanaruz, who was still frozen in shock into the heart of the city.
 Eventually, she seemed to regain her senses and led you to a wide, blue doorway. When you turned, a light-haired woman was following the two of you.
 She followed you inside the maze of mirrors too.
 Somehow, you lost Tanaruz and froze in place, not wanting to stumble into someone. You were forced to move when another one of the warriors appeared at the end of the tunnel.
 He was tall and lean, maybe two years older than you with light hair and a giddy smile that looked out of place in midst of all the blood that spattered across his face.
 Abruptly, you turned and ran. You could hear him laugh, before taking up the chase. But you knew the mirrors and the way you had come.
 It was incredibly stupid, but you ran outside again, into the maze of the city. The mirrors were a thing of luck, but this city, this was a place where you could actually outrun him.
 You weaved through alleys and larger streets, barely avoiding these men that attacked and slaughtered a peaceful people and suddenly found yourself standing in the middle of a large piazza with a tiled mosaic floor.
 You recognized this place, because it was the first place in the city Tanaruz took you to play with her friends. The man appeared behind you, and you knew you were in deep trouble.
 Unsure of which road to take and caught up in memories, you’d stalled, but you were determined to not let him get you. You started running again, towards one of the alleys leading out of the piazza. When you turn around, you saw him lift his axe, ready to throw it and threw yourself on the ground.
 The axe whizzed past you as you felt the metallic taste of blood in your mouth and realized that you’d bitten down on the inside of your cheek too hard.
 Still, you scrambled to get up and ran into one of the alleys but the men with tattooed faces cut off your escape. You turned, but the blond was standing in front of you.
 Already in pain, you decided that one was better than eight and ran straight at him, breath leaving your body as you impacted with his. You landed on top of him, and he had the audacity to smirk at you, but you didn’t care, heaving yourself up again.
 One of them said something in an unfamiliar tongue, but you were already running again, turning around a corner. You felt your heart sink as another barrage of warriors was in that ally and backed out of it again.
 As you walked onto the piazza, you realized that you were surrounded.
 “þú skulu eigletr mik takþúr, smár kat.” The blonde said, beginning to circle you like prey.
 Suddenly, the blond woman rushed into the square, dragging Tanaruz behind her. She stood in front of you. You couldn’t see her face, but Tanaruz was shaking with her entire body.
 “Nei! hon's minn dóttir, Angrboda!“ she shouted, before wrapping an arm around you. Unsure of what to do, you let her. You were tempted to show the blonde man the finger and couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a small, sassy nod with your head, telling him that he’d lost.
 You didn’t expect to stay alive for long after that, but the woman seemed insistent on taking you both in. Tanaruz was silent, not eating or speaking and eyed you with something you couldn’t place when you tried to learn their language.
 The woman was kind, but her insistent need to call you Angrboda confused you. Many times, you’d pointed at yourself and told her your real name, even saying it in their language but she never listened.
 Hvitserk, that was what the blond man was called, looked at you like a kicked puppy every time you sneered. You would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t know that he was about to rape you.
 One night, Tanaruz was crying. You tried to comfort her, but she pointed towards the woman called Helga and then her eyes. It took you a while, but you eventually understood what she meant.
 Tanaruz thought that Helga had the evil eye. A charm with Fatima’s hand had been given to you by Zoha after you yourself had gotten fearsome looks, but with the liner Helga was wearing, the resemblance was even more prominent.
 Quietly, you lifted the necklace from your neck and pressed it into Tanaruz’ hand.
 “Fatima.” You explained, “From Zoha.” Then, in very rocky Arabic, you gently added, “I be sorry.”
 Tanaruz looked at you, her mouth slightly curving upwards. “I am sorry.” She corrected, but cuddled into your arms nonetheless.
 Kattegat was the hell you’d imagined from being a time traveler, but at least you weren’t one of the women being sold as slaves.
 Instead, Helga dragged you and Tanaruz into a small house. Floki began to make something out of wood while Helga cooked a stew. You looked over to Tanaruz, feeling a deep worry. She hadn’t eaten since that night, and even then, a few slices of orange didn’t count.
 Helga began to attempt to feed Tanaruz, but she wouldn’t budge.
 “You need eat.” You urged her, still using your terrible Arabic. “If you leave me alone, I know won’t what to do.”
 Tanaruz didn’t even correct you and that worried you even more. You crouched down before her, staring into her deep brown eyes.
 “Please. You need to stay alive. When we alone, we run home.” You promised. It was unlikely, but Tanaruz needed something to hold on to.
 “My home was burnt by the --------.” She said. Still, she slowly took the spoon from Helga and began eating.
 Just in that moment, the door sprang open. No one stood in the doorway, but a noise made you look down. A guy that had to be your age was pulling himself over the ground.
 Fascinated, you looked down at him, while Tanaruz scrambled away. She was afraid of all of them, except maybe Floki.
 While Ivar looked confused, he began a quick conversation with Floki that you couldn’t follow. Then he turned to look at you, asking for your name. That you understood.
 “Angrboda.” Helga said quickly.
 “Y/N.” you corrected firmly. Something seemed to click in Ivar’s head by your name, but you knew him from hearsay too.
 In your terrible, terrible Norse, you attempted to make conversation with him. “You Ivar. Hvitserk and Bjorn talk.” You managed. Ivar nodded.
 Not really caring about whether or not your clothes got dirty, you sat down on the dusty floor and handed him a cup. Ivar glanced at Floki, as if he wasn’t sure what to think about your actions, but the man only shrugged.
 “Hon's stranger mær.” Floki said. You had an idea, suddenly. You liked Ivar and wanted to show him something you’d seen in Kattegat. He looked like he didn’t have many friends his age.
 Glancing over to Tanaruz, you saw that she’d curled up in a corner and fallen asleep. You looked at Helga. “I trust you to take care of her.” You said quietly in your own tongue, but she seemed to understand.
 Then you turned back to Ivar. “Come.” You said, motioning with your hand to follow you. A dragging sound behind you let you know that he was coming along. The sun was already setting when you walked into the small alcove and sat down, patting the space next to you.
 Here, in this alcove where it looked like the sun set the water aflame, you felt like you were at peace.
 Ivar stared at you, confused but you simply pointed at the sunset. Taking off you boots and rucking your skirt up to your calves, you let the waves splash around your legs. The cool water was the only thing keeping you awake, a sudden exhaustion seeping in due to your constant awake state.
 As you leaned your head on the rocks, you realized that Ivar had closed his eyes and was smiling slightly.
 Two weeks passed, and slowly, Tanaruz was coming out of her shell. Your promise of home seemed to keep her going, but she was still cold towards most people.
 She seemed to like Floki, who showed her magic tricks and let her carve with wood. He taught her Norse in turn, and she assured you that you could leave her alone sometimes. Tanaruz also liked to play chess with Ivar sometimes, to your great surprise.
 Though she always lost, she seemed determined to beat him one day.
 Both you and Tanaruz were relieved when Helga insisted on coming on the raid to England. The two of you only talked to Floki, Hvitserk, Ivar and sometimes Helga, all of which would be leaving.
 On the last day in Kattegat, Ivar showed you his new chariot. Tanaruz and Floki came too, and you laughed as Ivar drove past, while Tanaruz gave a shy smile.
 Together, the four of you walked back towards Kattegat, where a feast would see off the Great Heathen army. You were uncomfortable with taking Tanaruz, since Harald and Halfdan would be there, but Helga insisted.
 The feast was loud, and the Great Hall filled as people danced and drank. Almost immediately, Tanaruz spotted Harald and Halfdan and you quickly pulled her away, into a quiet corner.
 She was silent now, and you knew it was going to take her days until she would speak again. Your own hand was tightly wrapped around a cup you were holding.
 A clear voice ripped you from your dark thoughts. “Angrboda.” The woman said, standing in front of you. Her name was Lagertha, and she was the queen of Kattegat.
 “Y/N.” Ivar corrected, sitting down at your side. You nodded in agreement.
 “You were taken on my son’s raid.” She began, slowly enough for you to understand. “But Helga decided to take you and this girl in.”
 You nodded, unsure where this was going. Ignoring Ivar, she stared at you intensely. “I hope you know who you owe allegiance to.”
 She intimidated you, but you didn’t let that show. “I don’t owe allegiance to any of you.”
 It was probably not the best idea to butt heads with a monarch like Lagertha, but Tanaruz was shaking like a leaf next to you, and you still hated them for transforming her into a ghost of her former self.
 Lagertha looked like she wanted to say something, but another brother, Ubbe, called for her.
 After a while, Hvitserk sat down next to Ivar, completely ignoring you and Tanaruz. No one was watching, and you took your chance to pull her away, outside.
 The cold night air was harsh on your skin, and Tanaruz began to shiver as you wrapped her furs tighter. The new clothes as well as your jewelry had been gifts from Ivar, and a few from Hvitserk, who still seemed insistent on flirting with you.
 All in all, the two of you looked much more regal than two kidnapped people should. But the clothes felt like a metaphor for your gilded cage.
 Tanaruz pulled you to the beach and you sat down on the cold sand. A few meters away, a foreign merchant had lit a fire, looking out into the ocean alone. Ignoring him, you laid back, trying to explain all the different stars to Tanaruz. The girl’s eyes began to close, and you picked her up. She was too heavy to carry, but you could give her a piggyback ride home.
 When you’d settled Tanaruz into her bed, you walked back out towards the beach. Suddenly, you stopped feeling uneasy. When you looked behind you, a tall man was at the other end of the alley.
 You’d seen him around, and he’d always filled you with unease. He was a creep, invading the personal space of slaves that couldn’t say anything about it. Speeding up, you began to walk away, but he matched your pace.
 When you began to jog towards the Great Hall, he picked up his pace. Realizing that this guy wasn’t going to let off, you bolted towards the Hall, but he caught you around your waist and threw you to the ground.
 Before you could scream, he clapped a hand over your mouth. You searched for something to protect yourself, finding a small rock on the muddy ground and brought it against his temple, hard.
 He stumbled backwards and you got up, but there was a house behind you. He began to run towards you when suddenly, he gurgled and fell to the ground. An axe was sticking out of the back of his head.
 Hvitserk stood right behind him, chest still heaving from an adrenaline rush. You felt queasy at the gory sight in front of you.
 “Hello little cat.” He smirked.
 You wanted to insult him, say something, but your mouth felt dry. Reaching up, your fingers felt blood trickling from a cut on your forehead you didn’t realize you had.
 “Ouch.” You complained, wiping the blood off.
 Hvitserk said something about Helga, and you wanted to stop him, knowing that she would be a little overbearing, but he already walked away. Then, Hvitserk turned back and pressed a knife into your hand, before disappearing again.
  You sank down on the ground, still scared from prior events. A few minutes later, Helga ran into the alley, visibly shaken. Behind her, Floki, Ivar and Hvitserk followed. Ivar looked positively furious, staring at the dead body next to you with an expression of anger while Hvitserk seemed almost proud of himself for saving you.
  Helga seemed unsure what to do, but Floki stepped forward and pulled you up. Only then did you notice how shaky your legs actually were. Hvitserk stepped forward to support you, oblivious of how his own actions might be uncomfortable to you now. Together, they brought you to the longhouse.
  Tanaruz was still sleeping as Helga began to fuss over the cut on your forehead, just as you'd anticipated.
  "Who sent him?" Ivar asked you. "Was it Lagertha?"
  You shook your head. "I've seen him around. I think he mistook me for a slave."
  Hvitserk snorted. "You don't look like a slave." he said. "He just couldn't control himself."
  "Like you?" you shot back. He had the grace to look away.
  Tanaruz was finally beginning to learn to speak Norse.
  She was sitting with Helga, trying to copy her stitches as the woman fixed a sail. You were a little off to the side. Ivar had stubbornly put his head on your lap, silently asking him to play with your hair.
  You didn't mind, watching as the other brothers loaded up crates on longships.
  Suddenly, Ivar sat up. He stared at you with a suspicious expression.
  “You’re not a spy. Right?” he asked.
  You had to laugh. “What makes you think that?”
  “The way you treat me.” Ivar mumbled. You felt your heart break for him.
  “Don’t you think I’d be a terrible spy. I could barely speak Norse when I came here!” you giggled, smiling at Ivar brightly.
  Ivar was still looking at you with a hint of unsurety. “What can I do to prove you wrong?” you asked, throwing your hands up in mock surrender.
  He stayed silent, but a blush appearing on his cheeks told you that his thoughts were running wild. Well, if that was what he wanted…
  You placed a soft kiss on Ivar’s lips, hoping that he wouldn’t immediately kill you, before turning away. “That enough proof?” you muttered, already regretting the action.
  “Do it again.” Ivar commanded. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you turned around and kissed Ivar, your heart fluttering at the innocence of the kiss.
  “Brother we’re-“ Hvitserk began, suddenly standing in front of you. Slightly annoyed, you let go off Ivar. He let out a huff, staring at his brother angrily.
  “What?” he snapped.
  “Nevermind.” Hvitserk said. Was that jealousy in his voice?
  You patted the free spot next to you. “Come on, tell us what you wanted to say!” you commanded.
  “We’re ready to go. Everyone’s already on the ship.” He replied.
  Nodding, you got up and climbed into the longship, where Tanaruz was already waiting for you. This time, she looked excited rather than scared, looking out to the sea as another passage began for her.
  The peace of it all was suspicious, but you were glad that Tanaruz was adapting. She’d told you she wanted to try, if only it meant that she’d be able to go back home. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it probably wouldn’t work.
  Almost immediately after leaving, a soft rain began to patter down. Quickly, Helga gave you and Tanaruz a few furs while warriors and slaves began to cover the ship.
  Under the plane of fabric, it was dark, but peacefully. Tanaruz burrowed into your side and the rocking of the ship quickly made your eyes droop with tiredness. You let yourself fall asleep, the darkness and warmth of the fur giving you a feeling of security.
  Hvitserk’s POV:
 He sat at the other end of the boat as he watched Tanaruz crawl into her lap and fall asleep. He still wasn’t sure what to call her, Angrboda or her actual name. He still remembered the old Angrboda. They had nothing in common but Helga’s features. Pale hair and blue eyes.
  Truth be told, Hvitserk was jealous of his little brother. He was the one who discovered her. Why couldn’t he have her?
  Yet she’d kissed Ivar.
  Speaking of him, the nuisance his brother was now sitting next to him.
  “You still want her.” Ivar observed. Hvitserk nodded before he could stop himself.
Ivar was wearing that smug grin when he turned to look at him. One that Hvitserk would’ve wiped off of him with a punch if he was Sigurd.
  “You can’t keep her to yourself, brother.” Hvitserk mumbled. “She has a mind of her own.”
  “Whatever you say, Hvitty.” Ivar teased cruelly. He was wearing that shiteating grin of his again. Hvitserk looked away, back to her. She shifted in her sleep, mumbling something unintelligibly as she rolled over. The cut on her forehead was barely visible anymore.
  He’d saved her. Hvitserk knew why she stayed away from him, but still, hadn’t that been enough to get her to trust him.
  Unlike Margrethe, he couldn’t read her.
  “She’ll come around.” Hvitserk replied, settling down to sleep. He’d had enough of Ivar’s ramblings for the night. Of course, Ivar would keep on talking for the next few hours, but as long as Hvitserk nodded form time to time, he’d be left alone.
  Unbeknownst to both, she was half-awake, hearing their argument through the fog of her dreams.
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odinsshieldmaiden · a year ago
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this is the only straight couple i care about.
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vikings-incorrect · 7 months ago
When a child is crying:
Tries to make the child laugh: Bjorn, Ecbert
Plays with the child to try to make them calm down: Helga, Aslaug
Entertains the child with cool stuff: Ragnar
Wants them to calm down but has no experience with children: Rollo, Athelstan
Calms the child down with their pro parenting skills: Lagertha, Siggy
Is the reason the child is crying: Floki
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