#like it's such a good set up that Sigurd is so terrified Ivar will hurt her he doesn't see the opposite coming a mile away
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To Forsake All Love (Part 3)
Pairing: Sigurd x Reader
Word Count: 3400
Warnings: None I think, give me a heads up if there is one!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5-
@amazinggraceling @the-irish-princess @littlesnorlaxx @letsbedragonstogether @hornyorca @ivarinleatherpants
The night had been a torturous one. It wasn't the first time the sin of lust hit you like a sickness. You rolled around, too hot and then too cold for covers, legs moving this way and that for the desperation of relief, any semblance of ease the ache your parents were so adamant you resisted. You were a mess in the sheets, half driven to madness, thinking you might weep to Sigurd so he might forgive your rejection and satisfy you. He clearly had a mind he knew how.
But you remained strong, and tired. So tired. The morning came and your heart was still hammering painfully, the cold chilling the wetness down your legs. As a distraction you had a plate delivered to the study and had your breakfast alone while you wrote up and wrote up papers for the upcoming wedding. Thinking about what kind of wedding to have was just as frustrating but dishearteningly so, bouncing back and forth between a Northmen wedding or a Christian one, or a mix of the two. You could also go more traditional, celebrating old gods may also be in a way like a mix of the two. You knew a lot of the common folk still enjoyed the sayings and games. But any attempt to find joy in planning your wedding was doused by the reminder in your heart, there was only one way to do this.
“Ingweald!” The young guard stumbled in. “Send for Sigurd will you.”
“Why?” It was a genuine and innocent curiosity, but still.
“Because I asked you to.” you irritably quipped.
He nodded quickly. “Right, sorry.” Once he left you rolled your eyes, sitting back and enjoying a vine of cherry tomatoes, mind fully occupied.
“Your guard said you wanted to see me?” A sporadic pulse shot down your stomach at the sound of his voice, the sudden thought of his lips on yours shoving everything to the side like you’d never thought of anything else. Keeping it hidden you swallowed your tomato hard and motioned for the seat across from yours. As he sat down an apologetic smile came to him. “He said you snapped at him.”
“I didn't snap-” you groaned and rolled your eyes again. “Ignore him, he’s new.”
Taking a steadying breath, braiding your fingers together, you put up every shield you could think of. “How would you feel...about doing a Christian wedding?”
Sigurd raised his chin slowly, speaking as definitive as he could. “That is not going to happen.”
“See, I thought you might say that. So I’d like to make it clear that I’m not asking you to become Christian. This is simply a show to the Saxon people that absolute change is not imminent-”
“But it will be.” You held your jaw tight in both frustration and lethargy. Fighting him was the last thing you wanted no matter how inevitable you knew it would be. Weeks had gone by with the only change being your people getting more and more restless, most were in denial of the marriage to come. “They will have a Viking king, they will learn to be Viking-”
“People don’t work that way.” It shook your heart to shoot him down, but he needed to see reason. “If a Christian King barged in and declared all Vikings from this day forth to be Christian how would that end?”
Sigurd shrugged pompously. “I am the one with the army-”
“I offered my hand to avoid the army.” You snapped. For him to try and use that as his backup for ruling, you couldn’t stop the bitter tone. “Are you saying you can not hold it back?”
“I am saying the people will do as I say-”
“Or die. Which they will. Which is what I am trying to avoid in marrying you.” Leaning forward on the desk, Sigurd tensed in defiance. “The people have lost half of their family, some their whole family at your hands already. They are desperate and alone and this makes a perfect storm for rebellion if we’re not careful. They will not bend for you nor I if we can not calm their aching hearts and prove to be the leaders they need.”
At that Sigurd eased only slightly, at least looking like he was thinking about it though he crossed his arms. Still you pressed.
“Please. If you wish to have any love in this marriage you will at least consider my advice as a very real option. One that will speak volumes-”
“Yes. For both sides.” Tapping your nail on the wood, you looked away and sat back. “My own people will watch me bend the knee before a different God and you think that will go over well? You think they will still trust me?” He rolled his eyes. “Ivar is already spreading rumors...”
You answered in sympathy. “I understand. And many of people will see it for the show it is, but it is the effort that I need, that our people need-”
“Your people, are not my people.”
The air went still, your blood heating. There was a danger to such an alliance you knew that, but like a mother bear, your anger was stroked and you spoke very plainly, a certain coldness in your subdued reaction. “They will be once you marry me.”
Sigurd’s eyes dodged, tsking as he couldn’t disagree.
You sighed in an effort to calm down, “I need this alliance, but the only reason I need it is to protect what is left of my country. That means protecting them from themselves as well.”
Sigurd scoffed at you, the surprise of it only offending you further, “They are not children.”
While your gaze shifted, the glower still steady, you looked down at the mess of hate letters all claiming you were unfit to rule because you were a woman, because you’d rather not send children to die in a fruitless battle, that you were mad for submitting the land rather than burn it. “You’d be surprised.” you murmured, that exhaustion creeping up on you again.
After a moment’s pause Sigurd stood, making his way around the table. You watched him carefully before he brushed your messy bed hair back over your shoulder. There was a sweet smile to him, one that gave you some hope you could yet change his mind. “You are very tired.”
A knot released in your chest to finally have someone acknowledge that, “I just need this to be over with. So we can move on to better things.” He nodded in agreement before you asked, “So you agree? We’ll have a Christian wedding?”
Everything about him tensed and dodged you, standing up straight while looking at the door. Like a cloud of guilt sudden parked over him, Sigurd hung his head, coming back down to meet you but didn’t stop until his lips were on yours. While you didn’t pull away or squeak, you did tense, melting the longer the warmth of it flooded down your stomach. All thought had floated away as he pulled back, Sigurd submissively whispering, “I need to think on it.”
Breathing in slow and deep to gather yourself and not look too disappointed, you nodded.
The demanding tack of a cane on stone interrupted you two and you felt sick your heart dropped so fast. “I didn’t call for him.” The tone you took was more hard than you realized. Sigurd looked down at you, as rigid as a fearful hound. Bishop Edmure took slow steps in, his nose turned up at what he’d seen, Ingweald hanging his head low.
“He said he wanted to see you.” He mumbled apologetically. You bit your tongue. No doubt Edmure had threatened young Ingweald with eternal damnation if he didn’t do as the Bishop ordered. Your heart raced from the scene of yesterday, the dark purple rings on your arm hidden away under your dress suddenly making themselves aware. You didn’t want to, but swallowing your fear, you nodded to Sigurd, “I need to speak with him alone.”
Sigurd was slow to leave, not taking his eyes of the Bishop as he near sauntered his way out, slowing by Edmure to scoff at his puffed chest. The little ridicule pulled a small grin from you, the only ease you would have in Edmure’s presence.
When the door gave a dooming shut, the smile dropped and you squared your shoulders. “I hope this is important.”
“Discussing wedding plans?”
You had to bite your cheek, thinking of how he would be the one performing the ceremony. Suddenly you thought of how he would also be the witness in the consummation and the bile rose in your throat. “We were.”
“The people will not accept him even if he bows before God. They will not accept an unbaptized King.”
Looking away, you nodded, because he was right. Worse still Sigurd sounded assured he wouldn’t feign another’s religion. “Steps will be slow to take, but this is in everyone’s best interest.”
Edmure snarled at you, “God would not accept a heathen on a holy throne.” You cocked your head at ‘holy throne’. “You may think you’re saving us by becoming one of them, but God will rain down his punishment for this atrocity.”
Your teeth clamped so hard they hurt. “I don’t think that’s for you to decide.” He opened his mouth and you stopped him, “If God truly disagrees with my actions, then I will see it, and our destruction is once again as assured as it was before. Die if we do, die if we don’t, I know my choose.”
Fast for a scrawny old man Edmure rushed you, causing you to sit back. But he stopped opposite your desk, baring his teeth and red down to his collar. “You would fight God!? Who are you, little girl, to dictate his word and his orders!?”
“And who are you to claim to know his design?”
He slammed his fist on the desk, making you flinch and grow agitated with not being stronger. You were a princess, soon to be Queen, he couldn’t harm you. Yet your thumb trailed along the wrist of your wounded arm. “You dare question my wisdom? I am a priest of the lord-”
“You’re a con-man.” It took you a moment to find courage and glare up at him, standing by the words that so thoughtlessly left you.
Shaking his head he stood up, suddenly serene and all-knowing. “The devil has gotten in you girl.”
“Is that what you’ll tell them? About me? About my mother… my sister… my guards… anyone who might oppose you? The Devil is in this house and only you are so pure to resist him?” Keeping your head up, refusing to wilt under his growing scowl, “My father never appointed you for a reason. You are weak for power. He said that, those exact words, weak for power as any good god fearing holy man shouldn’t be. I will say now and only once; if you take further actions which lead you to usurping the rightful heir of the throne, I will have no choice but to see it as treason and have you executed.”
For the first time since knowing him, Bishop Edmure took back, blinking wide that the most modest Princess of Aelle’s daughters would threaten him. “And yes, that includes manhandling me like I am your own stubborn pup to beat.”
Edmure chewed his jaw, looking off for a moment before muttering, “For a moment I could have mistaken you for your father.”
You didn’t know how you felt about that, though it was surely to make you feel fearful of the future. A cold stone rest low in your belly thinking back on your father laying on the ground, white skin turning grey and eyes devoid of life. Swallowing the unwelcome feeling you spoke as stern as possible. “You’re welcome to test my conviction. However while you do so, please bare in mind; You are not a holy man in my eyes, I am willing to do whatever is necessary to keep my people safe, and I. Do not. Like you.”
He stepped back, cold and disconnected from any fear or anger. “You threaten to turn yourself into a Tyrant.”
“Than a Tyrant I’ll be, if that’s what it takes to keep the peace.” You glanced at the door, “You are free to leave.”
An order not a request, and he knew it. With one last lingering contemplative stare, he turned. You watched every step, waiting for the door to close before releasing a huge breath and melting into the seat, hands and knees shaking uncontrollably. A Tyrant was the last thing you wanted and you couldn’t imagined yourself able to kill a man. But your Father had thought so of himself once. And your Uncle before him. And your Grandfather before them. Such terrible things done in this house to ensure festering wouldn’t infect the rest of the populous. For now you prayed Edmure didn’t catch wind of your doubts, prayed that would be the end of his little holy crusade against you.
The kitchens were practically empty, a nice lull between breakfast and lunch. You found a table in the center and rested your elbows on it, your head dropping into your hands as you waited for Head Cook Alfida to come out of the pantry. You were starting to drift asleep when the strong smell of mint and warm steam filled your lungs and suddenly you were breathing and wide awake. Snapping up, Alfida was smiling sympathetically, a cup of mint tea resting on the counter between you arms.
“It’s barely noon and you look like death!”
Taking the cup and blowing into it you sighed, “I’m starting to feel like death would be the better option at this point. Just let someone else take care of this mess.”
“Oh~... it’s not all bad.” Raising your brow, Alfida glanced to the open window, the sounds of grunts and fighting taking place beyond it. Taking the follow, you held the cup close and walked to the door.
The Northmen huddled in a circle in the square, chatting for the most part while a mentor taught a few of the younger men. Why half of them were shirtless was a little beyond you, though as the coy look on Alfida indicated along with the entire female staff huddled by a corner giggling and watching, it wasn’t exactly a bad sight to behold. Breathing in the still hot tea, you rested against the wall by the door, watching the lesson and eyeing the men at the rim, finding all the brothers save for one.
“Your father cried and begged while he died.” You snapped your head to the side, finding Ivar sitting on a wooden seat that was normally reserved for Alfida on her breaks. He sneered at you, breaking from chewing on a leather strap to smile wickedly, “He was weeping like a baby before we even tied him down.”
It was hard to not rile from the taunt. Your father was tortured, of course he screamed, you had never known a man not to. Spitefully you quipped, “Well, yours raved like a madman.”
“Probably thanked Odin for a glorious death.” Ivar sat back, proud at the thought. “Sung how he would be received into Valhalla with cheer and open arms.”
Sipping your tea you muttered while looking away, terribly uncomfortable by the way he was sounding like a madman himself. “Cried out all the same.”
You could feel the glare fall and intensify, you busying your fearful instinct by sipping more tea.
“So what wedding will you be having? Because if it is not Viking, we are tempted to think Sigurd has turned his back on his people as well as his Gods. Traitor, I think is the word.” You straightened, glaring at him more out of your stress than meaning to be intimidating. He was smiling wistfully, almost dazed with the thought, “We would have to return and conquer Northumbria all over again. Put a real Viking leader on the throne.”
“All that effort, for the offense of your brother dare having a Christian wedding for the Christian people he will be ruling?” Ivar shrugged, all so inconsequential. You scoffed, trying hard to not roll your eyes and contemplate the reasons Sigurd’s people were still so uncivilized. “This marriage isn’t for me and it isn’t for him. It is for the greater good of the people.”
Ivar however didn’t hold back rolling his eyes. “Greater good, what does that even mean?”
Starting to lose your patients you inched away from him, desperate to find an excuse to leave his company. “It means I concern myself with a world larger than myself. That innocent people shouldn’t have to die on my pride.”
He chuckled at that, like it was such a silly notion. As he opened his mouth, Sigurd barked from a distance, Ivar suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Sigurd made his way from the group and stopped by you, protectively grabbing at your arms. The two starting bickering back and forth in their language, the words sounding more and more vexed with each round before Ubbe snapped at them both, the names alone a call for them to stop.
Sigurd looked between you and Ivar, deciding to lead you away to round the corner out of earshot, Ivar smirking triumphantly like the whole purpose of the former conversation was to get under Sigurd’s skin, not yours. “Did he say something that made you uncomfortable?” Sigurd huffed at himself, petting you down like you were frantic and sobbing. “What am I saying of course he did. Ignore what he says, Ivar is just… Ivar.”
Breathing in the mint you nodded, “Yes, making people uncomfortable does seem to be his nature.” As you sipped, Sigurd watched before erupting in a laugh, you joining to see his relief so relished. “Really now, I can handle myself.”
You let a few beats go before readying to sore his mood. “How much power does he have in the army?”
Sigurd gave some vague sound, seemingly confident it was none until he let his thoughts wander, looking out in the courtyard before reassuring himself, “Not much.”
Shifting, you asked, “Do you think it would be enough to cause us trouble?”
“Ivar? No. He wouldn’t.”
Licking your lips you glanced at the men and women that filled the square. “But could he, if he wanted?”
There seemed to be something Sigurd didn’t want to admit, eyes roaming the people, not saying anything to agree or disagree. Backing down, you tilted yourself into his view and smiled. “Thought for another time perhaps. We should just focus on the wedding.”
“Yes.” Sigurd breathed, taking a step closer before asking, “That man you met with…”
“Appointed Bishop Edmure.” you grumbled. “My mother’s rash decision after the former was slain in the battle. He’s harmless.”
“Harmless-harmless, or harmless like my brother?” He nodded in the direction of Ivar, and the way Ivar had shamelessly mocked and threatened war did make you uneasy. Instead of admitting Edmure basically made the same threat, you gave the ground a face that said it for you.
Warm and calloused hands fell on your wrists, holding them gently while yours protected the soothing warm cup. “If the priest makes you uneasy, you never need to be alone with him. And if he lays a hand on you-”
“O-oh you don’t need to-”
“I will kill him.”
You knew he was going to finish his sentence with something like that, and while it gave you a bit of a fright at first, somehow the sincerity in his eyes, the assured but aware grip on your wrists, somehow it made you smile, it made you start giggling. He asked with a half smile.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I don’t know.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks warm in a blush. “It’s such an absolute promise. You don’t think there would be context to determine otherwise?”
Sigurd’s brow knitted, shaking his head, “No.”
You shrugged, still smiling. “Okay then.” You let a last nervous laughter escape, “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
When you brought your eyes back up you found his mouth agape, wanting to say something but seemingly unable to. Instead he dropped it, smiling with you before leaning in, you quickly turned your head away. “N-not here. Not in front of everyone.”
“What do they care?” He whispered.
“Mine will care. They would see it as inappropriate especially for someone of my status. Of our status.”
You could feel the disappointed breath that escaped him run down your neck, yet Sigurd obediently leaning back. “Than I suppose we have our duties to get back to.” Taking steps back toward the group he pointed to you, “I will say it again. I do not like this whole sin business.”
Your smile turned bashfully wide, because a large part didn’t like refusing his kisses either.
#Sigurd#sigurd snake in the eye#sigurd ragnarsson#sigurd x reader#sigurd imagine#vikings imagine#To Forsake All Love#my stuff#when you're gothic brother in law is creepy but you have to deal with it#why am I so tempted to have a love affair tho#like it's such a good set up that Sigurd is so terrified Ivar will hurt her he doesn't see the opposite coming a mile away#also Ingweald is a gangly 15 year old for reference
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A/Ns: So originally I posted this as a Finan/TLK fic but just had no real drive to keep it going as that then I was like, this would actually be amazing as a Hvitserk one where it challenges his beliefs, loyalties, etc so I tweaked it and here we are! It definitely won’t be updated as much as others but it is a start!
TAGLIST: @bloooferladyy @revolution-starter @surewhyynot @punkrocknpearls
SUMMARY: Hitting someone with one’s car was not on on the top of Niamh’s to do list. Hitting a ninth century viking warrior with one’s car? Further down said list. It just wasn’t a good day for Niamh or Hvitserk.
CHAPTER ONE
The light was blinding. The crack of thunder was the only sound Hvitserk heard amid the battle. Ubbe was off to his left one moment, gone the next. Blackness flooded his vision. Panic settled into Hvitserk’s whole being as time seemed to falter; a heavy weight pressed him down, suffocating him. He tried to call out for Ubbe, Bjorn, anyone but nothing escaped. He wanted to run, tried to but it was no use. His body was frozen, trapped in such a never-ending sea of black.
A splash upon his cheek – wet and ice cold against his warm skin. He twitched in reaction, fingers clenching around his axe as another splash followed the second. With a heavy groan he rolled his head to the side as his eyes fluttered open.
It was still raining, that was a good sign he thought. He heard a rumble of thunder overhead, and the rain falling but no sounds of battle. He couldn’t hear the screams, the shouts, the sing of steel clashing against wood and steel. Confused, he lifted his head only for a sharp pain to spike up his neck. He curled over onto his side, clutching tightly to his sword and neck.
The forest was dense and overgrown around him, what he could see of it anyway. Lifting his head slowly, dark eyes searching wildly for his companions.
Panic seized him for the second time that night. He was alone. There were no bodies, there was no blood. Alone in an unknown place, Odin only knew what was going on. He just hoped they were alright.
Rolling onto his stomach, Hvitserk slowly pushed himself to his feet, almost slipping on the muddy ground beneath his feet. He needed to find camp, he needed to find something that was familiar to him.
He swore under his breath, clutching his axe tight to him as he tried to shake the light headedness overcoming him.
He just had to keep pushing on; move forward. If he found a town, he could find his bearings. He couldn’t be too far. Whatever trickster was playing with him tonight hadn’t claimed him yet, and Hvitserk would do everything in his power to survive this.
He’d survived worse he tried to reason.
Using the heavy growth and trees to keep himself upright, Hvitserk picked a direction and marched. He slipped a few times, he nearly knocked himself out with low hanging branches. The storm didn’t let up and with no moon or torch light, Hvitserk could barely see beyond his nose.
He bit out a curse here and there, trying not to question Odin had decided to upend him in the middle of battle. He just needed to find a town, a camp, anything.
***
Niamh squinted. The windscreen wipers were swinging back and forth on the highest setting possible; trying to chuck the downpour out of her path. Rinse and repeat. It was near impossible to see beyond into the darkness. She swore. She’d not intended to be so late but with home so close she wanted to get there after being away for a month.
Any other time Niamh would’ve enjoyed the night drive in the rain; the sound of the rain on the roof of the car would normally have a calming effect on her, but not tonight. She was already twenty something under the speed limit to make sure if she needed to stop suddenly, she could.
Driving the back tonight may not have been the best idea. She hadn’t had a lot of good ideas recently. She reached out and hit the dial to skip the song that was playing, a little restless that she still couldn’t see well beyond the windscreen.
Every so often she would hum along with the song and it soothed her restlessness for a little while. Then she would remember Seamus. She hoped wherever he was, he found some measure of peace. Two years fighting a losing battle to aggressive lung cancer and her stepfather had finally given in. He was the last of her family, he’d been so strong for so long.
A tight pain in her chest made her rubbed over her heart. For so long he’d been the only constant, the anchor she’d needed to make it through all the rougher years. Now he was gone. She wanted to say she was happy he no longer suffered the pain he’d so long endured, but the truth was, she hated that he wasn’t there anymore.
Thinking back over the last month, Niamh wondered whether she’d done enough. Putting her job on hold wasn’t a question, the time off had been good. She’d moved into his small London flat for the last few weeks. She’d stayed there to finalise what she could, have the funeral and now she was heading back to Aylsham.
The small village south of Liverpool had been her home for the better part of the last ten years. After a month away though it was odd to be coming home, alone. She wouldn’t be ringing anyone to tell them she’d arrived safely. Niamh felt her chest ache a little again and sighed heavily.
Niamh glanced out her side mirror, unable to see anything behind her but the darkest night.
***
Blood spilled down his hand, he tried to shake the feeling back and ease the trembling, but it wouldn’t work. Heart pounding fiercely in his chest and breath escaping in short, harsh pants he limped his way through the uneven terrain, sliding across the wet ground. He had to keep moving. His boots and his clothes soaked.
He trudged on, the cut in his side ached. He hadn’t noticed he was bleeding at first. The ache had come first. He’d been wounded enough throughout the years to recognise the sensation.
Hvitserk cursed under his breath. He could scare breathe deep enough to catch his breath. He didn’t know how long he’d been moving, only that his panic was returning. If he didn’t find somewhere soon, he’d collapse on the forest floor and bleed out.
Deep in his thoughts, Hvitserk failed to notice the way the trees began to thin out. When he did, he paused, leaning against a tree for a moment. He clutched at the pendant about his neck.
A cough wracked his body and he groaned as the pain in his side flared. Where was Ubbe? Where was Sigurd, and Ivar? What in all that is holy happened to him? Where was he?
With a sharp grunt, Hvitserk pushed himself from the tree and stepped the remaining few feet out onto what he thought was a path. In the dark he couldn’t see much, the path itself was strange. With a furrowed brow, Hvitserk tried to scuff at the earth. It didn’t move. Without any light, he couldn’t make out a lot. The rain beat down on his head as he looked skywards for a second, letting the rain wash over his dirt ridden features as he steadied himself for a few moments; breathing as deep as he could.
The forest stretched on again on the opposite side ahead of him. He turned a little and tried to look as far down the strange path as he could. Which way did he go? Without knowing what direction to travel, he could end up anywhere.
“Damn.”
He heard a noise behind him, movement of something down the path coming up at great speed. Turning, Hvitserk was blinded for the second time in less than a day only instead of being winded and dazed his entire world went dark as something ploughed into him.
***
The silence in the car was broken sharply as Niamh’s phone began to ring. She jumped, reaching across to the passenger seat to grab it. Not looking, she fumbled and knocked it down onto the floor.
“Fuck.” Niamh took her foot off the accelerator, swearing as she fumbled for her phone, glancing up every second or so to make sure she wasn’t going off the road. Who could honestly be calling her at this time of the night? Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she straightened herself up.
The phone stopped ringing as she glanced at the caller ID and then back at the road.
Then it happened.
Her car clipped something and knocked her off course. She hit the brakes; heart racing a thousand miles a minute as the car screeched to a stop.
She swore. She knew better.
What had she hit? Niamh was panting harshly, panicking.
“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” she whispered as she unbuckled herself and fumbled at the door. She shoved it open and climbed out. She raced to the back of the car and stopped short as she came upon her poor victim; hand covering her mouth as she gasped.
There, lying crumpled on his side, was a man. She’d hit a person.
Dear god, she’d hit a person.
Her hands trembled and her legs lost all ability to hold her up and she collapsed to the ground beside the unconscious man. It felt like it took hours to shake herself enough to crawl across to the man. Her brain was buzzing as she tried to think of what to do.
Check to make sure he’s alive.
In her shocked and terrified state, her hands trembled as she reached out to the man. Her fingers closed around leather. As though it jolted her back into herself, Niamh frowned. Leather? She didn’t roll him onto his back, worried she might hurt him some more, or exacerbate whatever injuries he might have.
She realised then he was wearing some sort of leather, cloth and fur. What on earth was he wearing?
Check to make sure he’s alive. Niamh swore at herself, she reached up to his neck, trying to find his pulse.
She held her breath as she waited for any sign that he was alive. She let out the breath when she felt a faint pulse, thank god he wasn’t dead.
Niamh inched a little closer, trying to get a look at his face in the rain. What damage has she done to him? A quick scan showed no obvious sign, no twisted limbs, but Niamh still couldn’t get over the clothing. It looked like he’d stepped out of a costume movie. Where on earth had he come from?
Glancing out to the forest through the harsh rain, Niamh sighed. Had they been filming something nearby? She needed to get help. Trying to find a film set would be too hard, she knew there was a late-night clinic in town, if she could get him there in time, he might stand a chance.
Niamh leaned over him and jumped back a little seeing the axe laying by his hand. She reached out to touch it when suddenly a hand snatched at her wrist. She cried out and tried to yank her hand free but the axe that had been laying on the ground was now at her throat.
She froze as she looked down. The man was awake and staring at her with unfocused eyes. Niamh felt a dreadful wave of fear creep along her spine as she stared back at the man, wincing as the axe, which she now knew to be real and sharp, bit into her throat.
“I- I’m sorry,” she stammered out. “I- I didn’t mean to hit you.”
She watched his brows come together. He tried to move, to sit up, but he clutched at his side, the grip on the axe slipping. As quickly as he gained consciousness, he went out again. Niamh let out the breath she’d been holding as he did. Least he couldn’t hold the axe on her.
Well, she hadn’t killed him. Niamh looked at her car and then back to the man. She needed to get him into the backseat. Reaching out, she plucked up the axe and scrambled to her feet, reaching the back door, she jerked it open and tossed the weapon onto the floor.
Now to move him. Niamh came down by his head, grateful he’d at least fallen back unconscious on his back. Crouching down she managed to get her arms under his shoulders and arms and groaned as she tried to lift him even just a little to get him to the car.
She tried to be careful with him, worried she might hurt him more doing this, but not able to wait out here for an ambulance Niamh huffed and wheezed as she dragged the downright heavy man to the car. She wasn’t weak but the dead weight of him was a lot.
She managed to scoot herself into the backseat, pulling him across it as she shuffled back across the seat. She collapsed against the other back door and let out a sharp breath. In the dim light of the car, Niamh was surprised by the absolute mess across her lap.
Long, dirty blonde hair was braided back from his face, tied into a knot at the back of his head, matching the slight stubble across his jaw. He was covered in dirt and mud but under it he looked young. Niamh glanced down along his body. The clothing looked real. Whoever had made it was talented. There she saw the darker patch down on his side. He had been bleeding. Niamh wasn’t an expert, but it was too high for where she’d hit him, had he already been injured?
Still certain she had accidentally hit someone on a film set, maybe an extra, Niamh managed to climb out from beneath the large man, and he was large. He had to be a good a head taller than her, six foot and he was solid muscle.
Niamh finally shut the back door of the car after pushing his feet in. She leaned her head against the window for a second, breathing heavily. She was soaking wet, her hair was sticking to her skin, her clothes were drenched but she’d managed to get him into the car.
She climbed into the driver’s seat and slowly shut the door. Numbly she turned the ignition and put the car in drive. With a shaky breath, she headed off down the road.
***
The parking lot of the late-night clinic was empty as Niamh pulled in. Niamh was quiet as she unbuckled herself. Her passenger hadn’t moved in the twenty minutes it’d taken her to get into town. She felt like it should’ve been a small mercy, both for him and her but Niamh wanted to know who she’d hit, wanted to apologise a hundred times over for foolishly grabbing at her phone when she should’ve been more careful.
Shakily, she got her door open, grateful the rain has eased to a light sleet as she climbed out and headed for the entrance. The doors slid open, and she saw the nurse, someone she knew, behind the desk look up at her as she entered. She must’ve looked dreadful. Drenched and like a drowned rat and shaking.
“Niamh, you look dreadful, what happened?”
God, how did she start explaining this?
Niamh nodded a little. “I- I ah, hit someone out on one of the back roads. I’ve got him in my car, he is banged up and he’s bleeding on his side. I- I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”
The nurse, Ellen, quickly jumped into action startling Niamh a little. It felt like a blur as the nurse came rushing round and calling out for a hand. They directed Niamh to sit down in one of the chairs and she watched as they headed out to her car with a stretcher.
The reality of it all crashed down on her. She’d hit someone with her car. She’d nearly killed someone. He could still die. Niamh felt like crying as she buried her head in her hands. Please don’t let him die.
***
Niamh sat with a blanket round her as she stared at the police officer across from her. She felt a sick lump in her throat and hollowness in her belly. The officer was patient, even after seeming to doubt her recount of what happened. When Ellen had said she’d called them, Niamh had simply nodded and waited. She couldn’t do much else. She knew bringing him to the clinic meant she’d need to face the consequences.
She had told the officer everything, even handed over the sword and told him she wasn’t sure who he was, where he was from and that she’d made a mistake.
“You didn’t find any I.D. on him?”
Niamh glanced up from her lap. “No, I didn’t.”
The police nodded, writing it down. “The nurse couldn’t find anything on him either, most they found were a few odd coins, some rings and the like. We’re trying to find if anyone has put out a missing person report matching his description.”
Niamh nodded. “What will happen now?”
The officer watched her for a moment. “He’s alive, the doctor said he had a laceration on his side which wasn’t caused by your car. He has some bruising on his ribs, they’re uncertain if your car did that given the shape he was in when you clipped him. Until he wakes up, there isn’t much we can do Niamh. He might want to press charges, that’s his right.”
She nodded mutely. “I know.”
The officer tapped his pen on the arm of the chair and stood. Niamh followed suit. “Ellen knows to contact us when he wakes up.”
Niamh watched him leave before she looked down the hall. They’d wheeled him into the third room.
“Niamh,” Ellen said, startling her a little. “Try and get some rest. He’ll be asleep for a while.”
“Can I go sit with him?” She knew it was an odd request. No one knew who he was, where he was from, nothing. She just didn’t want to see in the waiting room any longer. It’d been dark and raining when he’d regained consciousness, but it didn’t stop Niamh from seeing the sheer panic in his face. She’d done that to him.
Ellen gave her a small jerk of her head to say go on. Thankfully, knowing Ellen met Niamh didn’t have to worry too much about the oddness of her request. She gently opened the door of the room and stepped inside.
Whoever he was lay on the bed in the room, breathing evenly as he slept. Niamh took the seat by the door and curled up, wrapping the blanket around her legs as she drew them to her chest. Ellen had cleaned him up a little she noticed.
His face had a slight tan. He was covered in a gown and the blankets. She noticed his arms were scarred even from where she sat. Hadn’t they been special effects from the movie set? Her brows knitted together in confusion.
“Who are you?” she whispered into the space between them. It didn’t take long before the shock turned into exhaustion and Niamh fell asleep curled up on the chair by the door.
#fanfiction#fanfic#vikings#vikings fanfic#vikings fanfiction#hvitserk x ofc#hvitserk x oc#hvitserk ragnarsson#hvitty#hvitserk#hvit#smut#romance#time travel
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Blank Pages pt 2
Pairing: Ivar x reader
Warnings: Violence, attempted rape, curse words, implied rape, character deaths, my stories timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.
Word Count: 6.9k
Author’s note: Sorry it’s so long, I really wanted to keep it whole. Part 3 is being worked on as we speak and I’m sorry for the delays. Let me know what you guys think and send me any questions you have. I also have a face claim for Erik if any of you are curious !
Summary: What happened in the time Y/N ran away
Masterlist
Pt 1 // Pt 3
Ivar arrived defeated, hoping for the comfort of Y/N and of his mother. His father was gone now, and it was up to him to avenge him. He couldn’t wait to just be coddled by his mother and tell Y/N that she was right and that he should never have gone. That he wished he had stayed with her in Kattegat, that he had missed her more than anything. Not only did he not find Y/N at the docks to receive him, but he was given the news of his mother’s murder and that Largetha was now in charge. To say that Ivar was livid, was an understatement. He only saw red and wanted to do nothing more than seek revenge. His mother was gone, surely Y/N was holed up, terrified, he never should have left her alone. He dragged himself to her small cabin to find it abandoned. It looked like no one had lived there in all the time he had been gone. She really had left. He looked around the room at all the tattered parchment with fading ink. All mostly blank pages, none explaining where she had gone. But an even worse thought crept its way into his mind; perhaps something had happened to her. What if Largetha took the two women he loved most from him? His brothers tried to assure him that Y/N had most likely left before the death of their mother, but none of them knew where she was or where she could have gone. Bjorn made sure to ask his mother about her and he was told she knew nothing of who he spoke about. She told him she had nothing against the sons of Ragnar and would never go out of her way to harm them, she simply wanted her home back. Ivar had taken the last crumpled letter he had found of hers and tucked it away in his belongings. She wrote that she loved him, she had to come back. She just did.
The anger from losing her only fueled the vengeance he wanted to get on Lagertha. He had moped around Kattegat, snapping at everyone that got in his way, refusing to talk to anyone. His arguments with Sigurd had amplified and he had nearly killed him once.
“There are other women in the world” Ubbe had tried to distract him once, only to be met with a scoff
“None that will ever want to touch him” Sigurd had mocked. Ubbe tried to stop the argument before it got out of hand, but that was an impossible task. “I mean just look at Y/N. Poor girl, felt trapped. Terrified Ivar would kill her if she didn’t pretend to not be nauseated by him. She ran the first chance she got. I’m sure she’s much happier now, with a real man” if Ubbe hadn’t intervened, the knife in Ivar’s hand would have been lodged in Sigurd’s eye. “You’re insane Ivar” Sigurd had gotten up to leave, his last words venom to Ivar’s ears “No wonder Y/N left you”
The days turned into weeks. In his attempt to forget about Y/N he had tried to lay with the slave that all his brothers shared and that had been a disaster. All he could think about when he was thrusting above her, was how Y/N probably laid under another man. How she was probably lying with any man she wanted, how she had lied to him when she told him she loved him. He hadn’t been able to satisfy Margarethe, he had done nothing but hurt her and now every woman in Kattegat knew he couldn’t function as a man. Y/N had stolen his heart, and his manhood and he couldn’t forgive that. Yet, late at night when he would hear girlish giggles, he would remember her. The way her eyes crinkled, the way her nose would scrunch up whenever he complimented her, the way she would hold his hand and sit in silence with him whenever he was upset. She had done everything to make him happy, she had given up other friendships, she had turned down men that offered her marriage all for him and he couldn’t give her the one thing she asked him for, to be his priority. As much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn’t. He stayed up, looking at the stars, imagining that she also looked to the stars and thought of him.
“If the gods ever bless me with her presence again, I will not let her slip through my fingers” he had sworn to Hvitserk once as they drank. “I will not lose her a second time. I will choose her, like I should have done from the beginning” his brother only nodded in agreement as he listened to Ivar, too scared to say anything that might set him off.
The weeks went by and Ivar spoke about her less and less, putting all his anger and energy toward uniting all the Vikings for Ragnar's Vengeance. Things had slowly begun to become like they were before. Eventually Ivar didn’t speak of her at all and his brothers knew better than to bring her up.
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•
Leaving had been the hardest thing she had ever done. That was until she had run out of food and still had no settlement. Then hunting was the hardest. She cursed herself for not taking it seriously when Ivar tried to teach her to fight. She never thought she would be in a position where she would have to. She imagined Ivar would always be there to protect her.
After living in the woods for a couple of weeks in peace, she had heard screaming. She grabbed her dagger, terrified and made her way to the noise. “Ivar would kill you if he knew you were putting yourself in danger” she mumbled to herself as she quietly continued going through the trees. She shook her head and scoffed, Ivar’s dead, he doesn’t care about much anymore. As she continued her path she saw a woman in fine clothes, on the floor, her guards dead, and two men laughing trying to rip at her dress. Y/N made eye contact with the woman and signaled for her to remain quiet. She threw something on the other side of the clearing and one of the men fell for it.
“I’ll go check it out. Don’t have too much fun without me” he laughed as he left to check out the noise.
“Alright my lady. Time to see if you taste as good as you look” the other man growled as he pulled the woman by her leg, lifting her dress. Before the woman could scream, blood splattered all over her face as Y/N jumped the man and dragged her knife across the man’s throat.
“Can you walk?” She asked the frightened woman who simply nodded and stood. “Good. Go to your cart, lay down and don’t come out until I come back for you.” The woman nodded once more and muttered a thank you before running to her cart. Y/N couldn’t believe she had done that. She killed a man, she defended a woman in need. Ivar would have been proud. She heard the other man come back.
“Must have been an animal” he shouted over. He saw his companion on the ground covered in blood and ran to him. He crouched to examine his body, Y/N had hoped she could catch him off guard as well but she accidently stepped on a twig. He rushed over to her and grabbed her arm, knocking the knife out of her hand. “You’re not the Earls daughter, but I’m sure you’ll feel just as good warming my bed” he threw her on the ground and began undoing his belt. Y/N’s eyes went wide as she tried to find an escape and found none. She was pinned to the ground with no weapon. The man lifted her dress and then his body fell heavily on top of hers, the woman she had saved standing over him, with a huge piece of wood in her hand; she had hit him upside the head.
“I know you said to wait for you, but you looked like you needed help” she stuttered out, tears staining her face, her dress filthy and her hands shaking. Y/N crawled out from under the man and quickly grabbed her dagger. She grabbed the woman in a quick hug. They both turned their attention to the man groaning and trying to stand. The strange woman took a step back, but Y/N was angry. This man had tried to take advantage of them. She turned the man over and quickly plunged the dagger into his throat. His gurgles echoed in the woods as Y/N pulled out her dagger and wiped the blood on the man’s clothes. She searched both the bodies for anything of value they might have. “How can I ever repay you?” The woman called out to Y/N.
“No need. I’m just glad I got to you before those men could hurt you”
“Please. Come back with me. My father, he’s an Earl. I’m sure he can pay you, he would surely be grateful. Let me at least offer you a bath and a warm meal” Y/N nodded and smiled. For once the gods were looking out for her.
The journey wasn’t a long one. The woman was named Asger. She had been right. Her father had been grateful to Y/N for saving his daughter. He had insisted that she stayed with them as a thank you. He always kept an eye on her and Y/N had noticed. She confronted him about it and he had become flustered. He confessed that though she was much younger than him, he admired her. He admired the way she trained and the way she looked out for his people, even though they were strangers to her. His people liked her and she quickly became one of them. He confessed that he was smitten by her and told her he believed that Odin had put those two men in his daughters path in order to bring Y/N to him. She had never been so flattered. She apologized for thinking the worst of him and agreed to having dinner with him, just them. Their relationship had grown quickly and before the new season they had wed. Y/N was as happy as she could be with the pain of Ivar’s death still in her heart. The village accepted her and loved her, they were appreciative of all she did for them. Her new husband would joke that if his people were given the choice, they would probably choose her over him. Unaware, Y/N didn’t realize that when he made these comments, he wasn’t joking, he was warning her. He slowly stopped her from training, by telling her he didn’t want her to get hurt and that he would always protect her. He promised her love and asked her for children. She was hesitant at first but she had always wanted a family, she was just sad it wouldn’t be with Ivar. Though the Earl wanted children, the gods did not wish that fate upon them. One night the Earl had gotten frustrated when Y/N told him she had bled, which meant she wasn’t pregnant. During the midst of their argument he had accidentally let it slip that it was him who had sent the men to teach his daughter a lesson.
The longer they were together, the more disgusted she became with him. He wasn’t the sweet man he had presented himself as. He was cruel and vindictive, he had basically confined Y/N to the bedroom until her womb would take his seed. His daughter had become her ally. She would sometimes sneak in to give her a treat or keep her company. One day she stopped coming and Y/N had heard from a thrall loyal to her that Asger had been sporting a big bruise on her cheek, most likely given to her by her father. Y/N felt lost, she had begun talking to Ivar when she was alone, hoping her voice would reach him in Valhalla.
“WIFE!” Her husband had come stumbling in, causing her to jump. “I’ve had a bath prepared for you, with your favorite oils” she hesitantly got up from her sewing spot and followed him to the tub. He helped her undress and helped her wash her hair, if anyone saw them, they would think he was the most loving husband. Y/N was suspicious but said nothing. “A dear friend of mine is arriving tonight” Ah, there it was. He wanted her to be on her best behavior. To pretend they were the happy couple he told the world they were. “He has very powerful warriors, together we could conquer many. It is important that he sees us as a unit, that he sees us as stable. Is that clear?” His grip on her hair had gotten tighter and she let a squeak escape her lips as she nodded
“Of course husband” she muttered out. He released her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“Wonderful. I shall see you at dinner then” with that he left and Y/N was left with tears running down her face. Why did Ivar leave her to this life? She couldn’t handle another man like her husband. Surely this friend was as cruel as the last man that had come to ask for Asger’s hand. Thankfully she was able to persuade him into denying the man and protecting Asger. It had been at her expense, but she had grown fond of Asger and would do anything to protect her.
She had arrived before her husband to the dinner and decided to walk outside, enjoying the fresh air, making sure the thralls had everything prepared for the guests. “Are all the women here as beautiful as you?” A voice had startled her and she blushed. She looked around to see who the man had been talking to, surely it couldn’t be her. She didn’t recognize him, he must be one of the warriors that came with her husband's friend. He chuckled softly at her disbelief and stepped closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you”
“Not at all” she managed to muster. It was rare that she was at a loss for words, but this was the first kindness she had been offered by a man in a long time. As he stepped closer into the light, she was mesmerized by his deep green eyes, almost like Odin had picked his two favorite emeralds and placed it on this man’s face. “You really shouldn’t go around saying things like that. It could land you in trouble”
He laughed again, his laugh drawing her in further. “Perhaps you are right, but, I feel like things with beauty given to them by Freyja herself should be told” Y/N’s whole face burned and she was glad for the dim lighting, so that the handsome man could not see her reddened cheeks.
“You are too kind, truly.” She knew she needed to run away from this man before her husband saw them. He would not be happy that such a handsome man was giving her attention. “I’m sorry, but I must be going.” Before he could respond she made haste in walking back to the hall only to be met with the eyes of her angry husband.
“There you are, wife. I was beginning to worry” he chastised her softly. She simply bowed her head and made her way to her seat beside him.
“My apologies husband. I was enjoying the fresh air” he hummed in response and squeezed her hand as a warning. The hall began filling with people, their people and her husband's friends. She saw Asger quietly make her way in and sit in a corner. She leaned over and placed her lips quickly on her husband's cheek “I’m going to mingle with our guests my love” she didn’t give him a chance to refuse as she got up and made her way to Asger. They were hidden amongst the crowd and they hugged. “My dear Asger. I am so sorry if I have brought you any misfortune” she reached for her cheek and Asger just let out a smile
“Do not be silly Y/N. On the contrary. I’m sure you have taken some of the humiliations that he usually dishes on me” she grabbed Y/N’s hand and squeezed it. “I am simply thankful to have a friend as kind as you”
“We will escape this hell I promise you” she whispered in her ear as she hugged her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pretend to be a wife in love with her husband.” Asger nodded to her And Y/N made her way back to her husband, spotting the familiar red hair she had seen when she was walking outside. She hoped he wouldn’t say anything to her, in front of her husband.
“There she is. My lovely wife” her husband pointed to her and the man standing in front of her husband turned to look her way. His green eyes looked...sad? Y/N made her way to them and bowed her head as she reached the men “Y/N, this is my old friend Earl Erik” The man reached for her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles
“You are very lucky to have such a beauty to call yours” he muttered, his eyes never once leaving hers. She cursed herself for letting her cheeks get so red and for letting herself get so flustered.
“Dangerous words” Y/N whispered with a smile and Erik chuckled with a nod.
“She is quite a beauty isn’t she? A great prize indeed” her husband’s voice was not one of praise for her, but of pride for his appearance.
“Indeed” Earl Erik let out a wink as Y/N giggled. Her husband quickly ruined their moment as he stood from his seat and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. He guided him away and Erik's eyes followed Y/N no matter how far they got from each other. Y/N tried to keep from looking at him, but she could always feel those emerald eyes staring at her.
The night had dragged and Y/N had excused herself to her chambers as her husband planted a drunken and sloppy kiss on her lips. It was the only time she had noticed that Earl Erik had looked away from her. Sleep had quickly taken a hold of her and for once she didn’t dream of Ivar. Instead of the ocean she dreamt of emeralds. She was woken up in the morning by her husband getting ready for the day. “I will be very busy today. I expect you to keep Erik company today. He informed me he will be staying some weeks and with any luck he’ll ask for Asger’s hand and we’ll be united as family” she felt her smile falter at his last sentence and she nodded.
“Of course husband” When her husband left, she found herself spending extra time getting ready. She had her thralls braid half of her hair up and wore a dress the same green as his eyes. She shook her head as she admired herself in the mirror “it’s just to make him want to marry Asger” she reminded herself. She straightened her dress one last time and added flowers into her braids.
She walked into the hall to see Erik devouring his meal. “Do they not have manners where you come from?” She teased as he looked up at her with the biggest smile.
“I didn’t realize you would be blessing me with your presence” he wiped his mouth and stood up, to pull a chair out for her.
“Well you’ve already eaten.” She pushed the chair back in “without me” she shook her head and tsked at him with a mocking laugh. “How about we explore?”
“I’d follow you to Valhalla and back if you asked” he winked at her again and she shook her head in mock disapproval.
“Dangerous words” she repeated to him and soon that became their routine. She would show him around, they’d have lunch together, he would spend the day complimenting her and she’d tell him they were dangerous words.
Three weeks had passed and she had learned everything about him and he had learned things about her as well. She told him how she had lost the love of her life once and he confided in her that he too had lost the love of his life during childbirth, but that their son was alive and healthy back home. He also admitted that while he was fond of Asger, he had seen her grow up and had no desire to marry a woman that he saw as a daughter. She had also learned that he loved when Y/N wore red and when she added flowers into her hair and so she did both more often. He had confessed that he was jealous his friend had met her first, but he would never betray him. He confessed that he wished his friend could see how lucky he was to have her. One night while he had gotten drunk, he had tried to kiss her and she had quickly moved away. “I’m married” her voice was shaky and so were her hands as she looked around. He had apologized profusely and told her he didn’t know what came over him. She excused herself from his company and avoided him the rest of the night. She had confided in Asger what had happened and Asger simply smiled.
“He clearly cares for you. My father doesn’t deserve you” Y/N shushed her and looked around to make sure no one heard.
“Asger you cannot say these things. Your father could hear”
“Run away with him. Just because I’m stuck with my father forever doesn’t mean you have to be. You lost your great love once, don’t let another slip by” She grabbed both of Y/N’s hands and tried to comfort her.
“Those are foolish dreams Asger. Earl Erik simply wants to bed me, like every other man. He wouldn’t stand by me if I chose to defy your father.” She stood and kissed Asger’s cheek “Now go get some sleep. I hear that arrogant man who asked for your hand is back. You’ll need all the rest you can get”
They departed and entered their respective rooms. Y/N’s husband was waiting for her as soon as she entered. The closer she got to him the more the smell of mead flooded her senses. He was drunk. “WELL THERE IS MY WHORE WIFE” he slurred out. Y/N cringed at his comment and began to undo her braids
“I don’t know why you speak to me like that” before she could turn around to face him, he had run over and gripped her arm to spin her. His hand wrapped around her throat and he squeezed until she was clawing at his hands for air. “Please” she begged and he only moved closer to her face.
“I told you to keep Erik happy, to convince him to marry Asger. NOT TO FUCK HIM UNDER MY OWN ROOF” She tried to shake her head to deny it, but her head was spinning and her chest hurt. He finally let go of her and she dropped to the floor coughing. “Get up” he slurred as he kicked her leg.
She took a deep breath and stood, keeping her head high. “I did no such thing husband. I would never do that. I have simply been keeping him company”
“Between your legs !” He spit back “I know what you and my daughter are planning and it’s not gonna work. You will stay married to me, Erik will go home to his child and as for Asger.” His eyes went dark as he chuckled “She will be taken away for marriage by Gunnvor for breeding”
Y/N felt her heart jump out of her chest as she reached for his arm, throwing herself on her knees at his mercy “No please. You Cannot send her to that man. He’s killed his last three wives. Please husband. I beg of you. Spare your daughter. Please” The kohl she once had neatly around her eyes were now staining her cheeks and her tears would not seize.
He shoved her back and as his stare bore holes into her he yelled “You disgust me. Get up.” She sobbed softly still muttering pleas for Asger. Swearing up and down that nothing had happened between her and Erik and that nothing ever would. All she felt was a sharp pain on her cheek and then a blunt edge hit the side of her head as her husband slapped her and her head fell against the table. She knew her cheek would bruise and she felt a warm liquid run down the side of her head. Her husband threw a rag at her and spit on the floor beside her legs “Clean yourself up and get to bed. Tomorrow we welcome our future son and bid farewell to Asger”
Y/N curled into herself as she let herself cry. When she heard her husband's snore fill their chambers, she stood up and cleaned herself off. She stood over him as he slept. She had never felt so much disgust for another human being. She had to stop him. She had to save Asger, by any means necessary.
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•
Her fingers slowly traced the dark mark on her cheek. She flinched as she attempted to put on something to help cover the dark mark. She was furious and embarrassed. How could she show her face? Everyone would know how she got the bruise. Her thrall quietly opened the door and informed her that her husband required her presence in the hall. She took a deep breath and plastered the biggest fakest smile she could as she made her way to the feast. Her eyes immediately found Erik’s and she saw his smile fade as she got closer. She made quick work of looking away from him and joining her husband's side.
“I can’t wait for this night to be over” He groaned as his hand found its way to her thigh, giving it a squeeze. She didn’t flinch or move away, she felt numb. She could feel people’s eyes on her and she hated that they were probably whispering about her.
“Where...where's Asger?” She whispered, not wanting to give her husband any more reason to be angry
“Getting ready to be acquainted with her new husband” There it was again, that deep chuckle that made fear run through her veins.
Her eyes were on the floor most of the night, she didn’t feel like mingling or pretending like nothing was wrong. When her husband had left her side to relieve himself, she saw Erik run over. His hand instinctively going for her cheek and she moved her head away “Please” she pleaded with him “Just leave me alone”
He quickly apologized for any actions of his that might have cost her pain. “Did he do this to you?” Y/N just nodded her head and felt a tear come down her cheek. “I am so sorry that he is an idiot. Let me take you away. Far from here, where he can never touch you again” His hand found its way back onto her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her skin
She looked into his pleading eyes and smiled. Gods how she wished she had met him first. Asger’s words rang in her ears, the words that told her she should take this opportunity to get away from her aggressive husband. “I can’t” her lips, quickly met the palm of his hand as he stroked her cheek and then pulled it away. “I can’t abandon Asger. Now please. Leave before my husband sees you talking to me. Leave before more rumors begin” When he refused to go anywhere she sighed “Then I will go.” She stood up and walked away from him, leaving him wishing he could save her. She quickly ran down the hall, trying to find where Asger could be, she needed to save her before it was too late. Y/N had survived in the woods once, she could do it again, this time with Asger by her side. As she was trying to come up with an escape route for them, she saw Asger stumble out of a room. Her hair was messy and tears stained her cheeks. Her pink cheeks covered in Kohl and her dress half laced up. “Asger” she called out as she ran to her. By the look in Asger’s eyes, she knew she was too late to save her. They both fell to the ground as Asger weeped into Y/N’s shoulder, holding her tightly. She sang softly to her and promised to protect her, no matter what. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you in time my sweet dear Asger. I’m so sorry”
After what felt like hours of them just holding on to each other, Y/N took Asger to her room and helped her bathe and laid her down. She held her until she had fallen asleep and kissed her forehead before leaving. How could her husband do such a thing to his own daughter. What kind of a man was he? She tried to calm herself down as she reached her room. She could hear her husband mumbling to himself and she felt the anger boil in her veins. She opened the door and found him undressing himself. When he turned to her he had a big drunk smile on his face. “There you are” the slurs were barely understandable. “Come here wife. Let me fill you with a baby tonight” He quickly stomped up to her and grabbed her by the arm, shoving her down on the bed. Her body bounced and then felt the weight of his on top of hers. “I’m going to make you scream my name. Let Erik know who you belong to” He had pinned both her arms above her and his lips were on her neck.
“Husband please.” She pleaded as she tried to push him off “Not like this.” she felt his grip get stronger on her wrists as his other hand went down to part her legs for him. She quickly turned her head, her lips met his and she kissed him. “Let me make you feel good first.” She tried to close her legs, trying to buy herself some time. His grip loosened and she pulled her wrists out of his hold. Her arms snaking around his neck, she kissed him again and flipped them over. She straddled him and leaned down, her lips on his and her arm finding its way under her pillow. She felt the cool steel of the knife that Ivar had made her. Even from Valhalla he was protecting her. Her husband’s hands roamed her body, pulling up her dress, trying to feel more skin. She leaned into his ear and placed a small kiss before whispering “This is for Asger,” His response was nothing more than gargling as he choked on his own blood, Y/N’s knife was embedded in the center of his throat. She grabbed her husband's hands, which were thrashing trying to push her off and pinned them above his head. “How does it feel husband? To feel so powerless. To know that you lose? To know that your daughter will inherit your lands? To know that your wife is the one who took your chance from ever dining in Valhalla?” She stared into his eyes, making sure there was no life left in them before getting off of him and going to wash her hands. ‘I killed him. I did that. Me’ her thoughts were running rampant and she didn’t know what had come over her. How could she be so stupid? What was she going to do now? Surely they would kill her. She knew the people loved her, but she killed their leader. Once her hands were scrubbed clean, she changed her clothes and snuck outside for fresh air. She walked toward the water and saw someone sitting on one of the logs, staring at the sea. She tried to go back but knocked over some things and emerald eyes immediately found hers. She sighed in relief, she always felt so comfortable around him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you” She tried to turn away, but the rustling of him running over stopped her.
His hand reached toward hers and his fingers lightly ran over the back of her hand. “Please don’t go” his whisper was a plea and she obeyed. How could this man be so magnetic? He led her to where he had been sitting and they both sat on the ground. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” his eyes traced over every feature of hers as she stared blankly at the sea. The same sea that had taken Ivar away from her. “My offer still stands. Run away with me”
She turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re better off without me”
“How could you say that? I- I think I might love you” his eyes darted to their intertwined hands before looking back into her eyes, his were full of hope and possibility. “Your lost love would want you to be safe and happy.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She felt almost guilty as she heard the waves of the water crash against the boats, almost as if Ivar was protesting from Valhalla at the mention of him. She had gotten married once, but she knew it wasn’t love. Erik however, he was different, she could see herself round with his children, she could see herself growing old with him, waiting at the docks as he returned from battle. She leaned closer to him as her eyes opened, could she betray her love with Ivar? Was this even a betrayal? Before she could overthink anything, she let her lips crash into Erik’s, her hands pulled him by his furs and held him close. Erik didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand on her cheek and the other on his lap.
She rested her forehead on his as she breathed deeply “I killed him” her voice was almost inaudible and Erik didn’t think he could have heard her right
“What was that?” his fingers stroked her cheek.
“I killed my husband” This time she said it louder and sat back, she’d rather pull away from Erik than have him pull away from her. She couldn’t handle being rejected right now. “He-” she started crying and Erik pulled her in once more. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to soothe her. “He tried to have Asger killed once, and tonight he had her ra-- I just couldn’t take it anymore. He was cruel and he didn’t deserve to continue living.”
Erik closed his eyes and held her tighter against his body, his hand running up and down her back slowly. “It’s going to be okay.” He didn’t know how to react. He would have done the same in her position, he knew that her husband was no good and there had been many occasions where he wished he had killed him, himself. Nothing made him angrier than when he had seen Y/N bruised, he had almost killed him right then. “I will protect you. What did you do with the body?” he asked and felt Y/N stiffen in his arms. She told him that it was still in their chambers and Erik went to wake some of his men to help her dispose of his body. He took her to Asger’s room and told her to stay there until morning. He would come and get her when the time was right.
Upon entering Asger’s bedroom, she woke up. “Y/N what are you doing here?” Y/N ran over to her and hugged her tightly “You’re safe now, just like I promised. He will never harm you again. No one ever will again” Asger didn’t know what Y/N meant but she didn’t ask any questions, she just held her friend until she was ready to talk. They both fell asleep, holding each other once more.
Morning had come too quickly and Y/N woke up first. She patiently waited for Erik to come and get her. They spoke of what to do next and then Erik left to make preparations. Y/N awoke Asger and told her to come to the hall when she was done getting ready. There was an important announcement to be given.
Once the hall was filled with people, Y/N took her usual seat, beside the empty one her husband usually sat on. Erik had his men posted in front of her for protection. He wasn’t sure who in this village he could trust around her. She quieted the hall and Erik stepped up to tell the people what had happened to their Earl, but he felt her small hand on his shoulder “It should be me” she whispered to him and he frowned at her, but nodded. As he stepped aside she stood in front of her people and took a deep breath “Your Earl is dead” the crowd broke into loud whispering as they all talked amongst themselves.
“How?!”
“Who’s in charge now?”
“When did he die?”
The people were all shouting questions and she settled them all before continuing. “All of you know me, and you knew my husband” she looked around at the knowing eyes. Some people looked down and avoided her gaze. Everyone knew she had been a happy and cheery woman before marrying their Earl. They all heard the commotions and they had all seen her bruise. “You know he wasn’t the kindest man, you know he always looked out for his interests and not yours” some people scoffed and others agreed, most remaining silent. “I have helped you all from the start. Asger has always looked out for you all. She has always been the people’s ruler. My husband wasn’t fit to rule, he wasn’t fit to be a father and he definitely wasn’t fit to be a husband” The crowd began murmuring again, some were beginning to put it together. “Last night your Earl tried to rape me” the hall was loud now and so Y/N raised her voice “So last night, your Earl choked on his own blood. Killed by my hand” Everyone went crazy and Erik quickly pulled her behind him in case anyone loyal to the late Earl tried to kill her. But she refused to hide. “I married him thinking he was a different man. I was wrong. I will accept whatever punishment you all deem I deserve.” she bowed her head to them.
“Good riddance” one man yelled out
“He was a shit Earl anyway!”
“No one will miss him!”
Y/N wasn’t expecting that the hall would all be yelling praises and acceptance at her. She knew her people were unhappy but she didn’t know they would celebrate his death. Of course some were loyal to her late husband, because they were friends and offered certain privileges, but they were severely outnumbered and so they remained quiet. “Will you take over as Earl then?!” a woman had yelled out and Y/N simply smiled as her eyes met Asger, who had heard enough to know what was going on.
She shook her head “You deserve someone that cares for you all, someone that has already been your ruler, someone who has grown with you and will protect you all no matter the sacrifice.” She walked into the crowd and toward Asger “You deserve Asger as your Earl” Asger was in tears as she heard her people cheer for her. Y/n leaned in to hug her and whispered “No man will ever control you again. You’re free.”
The women stared into each other's eyes and then Asger looked behind Y/N at Erik “As are you Y/N. Go with him. I’ll be fine on my own.” They nodded at each other and began the celebrations.
Asger had the man who had violated her punished and sent on his way, never to return to her lands again. She hand picked her guards and offered Y/N her pick in warriors to take on her journey with Erik. The second biggest goodbye of her life was bittersweet. She left Asger with tears in her eyes and love in her heart, they promised they would write and visit each other.
Erik did not miss a beat in claiming Y/N as his and together they sailed to a better life. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you” Erik’s hand was around her waist as they stared into the long sea.
She turned into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck “Dangerous words” she mumbled as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
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#Ivar#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivarxreader#reader insert#readerxivar#Vikings#vikings fic#vikings x reader#vikings angst#multific#fanfic#fiction#viking fanfic#vikings fanfic#vikings fanfiction
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Ubbe x reader Protecting you
Pairing: Ubbe x reader
Summary: Reader is a slave who has a hard time behaving. An incident at dinner has her scared and running away from Ivar. Ubbe decides to help her.
Warnings: Mentions of slavery, abuse, death, freezing, mild cursing.
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Hey guys! I couldn't sleep so I wrote this instead lol, hope you like it😚
"You should watch what you say y/n, especially in front of Ivar, he can be very cruel" Calise warned as you rolled your eyes for the millionth time.
"How many times do I have to say it Calise?! Just because some foreign bastards stole me from my home and made me a slave doesn't mean I can just accept it. I'm a human being, not property. If one of those bastard brothers tries to hurt me they will be the ones who are sorry" you huffed setting down a large bucket of dish water.
Calise tsked nodding her head, "You won't last long with that attitude... believe me you weren't the first slave to think she wouldn't bend, but these men can be savages and they will not hesitate to beat you into submission.." she sighed when you didnt reply and continued washing silently.
In your mind you were seething. You understood that you couldn't just go around picking fights but you weren't going to be treated like dirt either. Ugh why were the gods punishing you like this?
You decided to try your best at keeping a low profile until a chance of escaping arose. After all if no one noticed you it wouldn't be that difficult to sneak away one night.
Alright brain, are you listening? No more smart mouthed comments. No more under the breath insults. And for the love of gods, no more dirty glares! Let's try to stay alive long enough to escape shall we?
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That night you stood behind the chairs of the royal family as they ate and conversed happily. A rare occasion honestly, it was not often that all the brothers got along this well.
Ubbe was more sensible and to be honest you did not mind him much. Hviserk was for the most part ok, his comments about women sometimes made you clench your teeth. Sigurd wasnt that interesting to be honest, and then there was the devilish one known as Ivar, that one you had to be wary of, you had seen him almost choke to death a servant for spilling soup over him.
Your eyes roamed around the hall. Gods standing around was so boring... the first thing you were gonna do when you escaped was relax in a hot bath and feast on the fattiest foods. None of that leftover meat slop you slaves were fed.
Sometimes when you guys were cleaning up you would sneak some food in your mouth quickly. Calise scolded you everytime but hey, the gods taught not to be wasteful. In your eyes you were doing a good thing.
"Are you deaf slave?" A sudden sharp voice cut into your thoughts.
Shit...
"Sorry, how may I serve you prince Ivar.." you quickly stepped forward.
"My cup is empty" he motioned holding it up mockingly.
This asshole is lucky I don't have my knife anymore...
You quickly filled his cup with ale, a simple task really. No one could've imagined what would happen next.
When you felt a wandering hand over your ass you acted on instinct. No you didnt even stop to think that slapping the craziest man in kattegat was a bad idea.
You stood there eyes wider than saucers. Frozen like a deer as you watched Ivars stunned face turn from the side slowly, a red welt already appearing on his pale skin. Fuck.
You took one giant step back suddenly afraid that he would stab you with a dinner knife right then and there.
"M-my prince, I'm so sorry I did-" you were abruptly cut off when he shot out of his chair, a wild look of murder in his eyes.
Fuck you were done for. Great job you managed to keep yourself in check for like what 7 minutes?!
"Ivar stop!" Aslaug tried to calm him down but he was already out of his chair and limping towards you dangerously. Afraid of him and what he could do you whipped around and darted past a shocked Calise out into the brisk winters air.
You could hear shouting behind you but you were too frightened to stop. Although you probably made it ten times worse by running away. Should you have just stayed and taken the beating?
Surely the brothers or the queen would've intervened before things got too out of hand. You shook your head. Well none of that mattered now, you had to hide before he found you. Gods for a cripple, he sure was fast.
You cursed as another ruthless wind made you shiver. Only a thin dress protected you from the harsh weather. Great instead of being beaten to death you were gonna freeze to death.
Maybe it was better that way.. even if you left kattegat, it's not like you had anywhere else to go. And being captured by bandits on the road didnt seem appealing either. For all your past bravery you were feeling pretty terrified right now.
You hid behind a house taking a deep breath. Ok so you couldn't ask anyone for help for surely they would turn you in. After all no one would risk protecting you for Ivars wrath.
A barn near the house caught your eye, and you immediately snuck through the crack in the door and pulled it shut.
There were some piles of hay, a table for crafting tools of some sort, and above it all was a semi sealed attic.
Seeing no ladder you quickly piled some hay until it was tall enough to climb on. You also pulled as much as you could up with you to cover yourself.
By this point your hands were starting to burn. But you feared going back more than freezing. So you scooched back as far as you could, almost hidden completely and pulled the hay onto your shaking body. It wasn't the furs you slept with but it would have to do.
Wrapping your arms tight you prayed to the gods that you would somehow survive this or at least die a quick death.
At some point the cold turned into burning and then you felt nothing. You couldn't even feel your eyelids as they drooped shut.
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"Ivar calm down, she's new she doesn't know how to be a proper slave yet" Ubbe stood blocking the door. The only thing standing between him and your certain death.
"I agree, she doesn't know, so she must be taught a lesson" Ivar growled and tried to push past his brother once more.
Aslaug gently placed a hand on his back, "Ivar please, she is just a slave, she is not worth it"
Ubbe could tell he was starting to calm down, especially when his mother spoke he always listened.
"Ivar you're right, she does need to learn but please, let me go and deal with her" Ubbe pleaded.
Ivar glared at his brother a few moments before sighing and shoving his arm off.
"Fine, just promise me you wont be too easy on her brother" he grumbled making his way back to the chair.
Ubbe sighed in relief and made his way outside. He started to worry because it was heavily snowing and from what he saw you were only dressed in a thin dress.
He actually had no intention of "dealing with you" as Ivar had demanded. In all honesty he thought you reacted as any insulted girl would. It just so happened because you were a slave it wasnt permitted.
Later on after he found you he would probably have a good laugh about this with his brothers. After all it wasnt everyday someone stood up to Ivar the boneless.
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Ubbe had been searching far into the night now, no one he asked had any clue where the girl was and he was starting to lose hope.
Part of him wanted to give up and warm up by the fire in his house but part of him knew you would die if he did. He was far too kind to let that happen. So with a sigh he rubbed his hands together trying to generate some heat before he set off again.
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Ubbe lightly shook your numb body as he tried his best to bring you to conciousness.
"Wake up, c'mon woman this is not a good place to die" he lightly slapped your cheek.
He clicked his tongue when you didnt even flinch.
He pulled off his outer fur and gently wrapped you in it. Carefully he lifted a hand behind your back and under your knees. Adjusting you until you lay safely in his arms.
He decided to take care of you himself seeing as it was the middle of the night and his house was much closer than the hall. Plus it wasnt a good idea to be around Ivar right now.
He kicked open the door and gently layed you down by the firepit. He got to work lighting it and gathered all the warmest furs he could find.
Once he had you wrapped up in several layers he grabbed a pillow and made himself comfortable beside you. For a moment he just stared at your face, wondering what your name was, where you came from, what you were thinking when you slapped Ivar. The last one made him smile. You were an interesting one indeed.
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Death felt cozy...? It was warm and comforting, like the first day of spring after a long winter.
You felt softness everywhere, like a bunch of tiny kittens were cuddling into you. If this was death, this must of been heaven. The smell of wood was soothing, reminding you of your home and the sounds were peaceful. The crackling, singing of birds, snoring....wait a minute...snoring???
Your eyes flew open as the realization that were in fact very much alive sunk in. You could see a wooden ceiling and tried to sit up but someone had piled what had to have been 1000 furs on you, making you feel like a swaddled baby. A very hot and sweaty baby. You tried to lift them off but your arms felt like jelly.
Ubbe heard the commotion and was awake in an instant.
He almost laughed as he watched you wiggle around like a trapped worm.
"Easy now, you're still recovering" Ubbes unmistakable voice echoed through the room.
You twisted around until your eyes landed on his amused ones.
"Prince Ubbe?" Ok now you were officially confused.
"Here" he scooted closer and started removing a few of the layers. When you moved to sit up he placed a hand on your back supporting you. You nodded a thank you and cleared your throat. It felt dry like you hadn't drank water in days.
As if he read your mind the prince reached over to a table where he poured water from a pitcher into a small cup then handed it to you.
After gulping the whole thing down you suddenly felt very awkward as he was just staring at you.
" Um Prince Ubbe?" You looked up.
"Yes?"
"What am I doing here.." he let out a tiny laugh which only confused you more.
"You mean you don't remember?" He asked smirking.
"Remember? I don't know what you are talk-.......Oh my god I slapped Ivar!!" you shrieked in disbelief as the memories started to piece back together again.
You suddenly felt very unsafe and began scrambling to get up. What if he was waiting for you to get up just so he could torture you.
As soon as you stood up you felt a wave of dizziness pass and found yourself pitching to the side.
"Woah slow down" Ubbe effortlessly caught you and guided you back onto the ground. "You need to rest, your body has been through a lot." Ubbe said with his hands still supporting you.
You were about to protest when he held a finger to your lips, "Shh listen to me, my brother is not going to hurt you I give you my word." He promised pulling away slightly but still staying close.
You visibly relaxed at his words. Out of all the brothers Ubbe did seem the most trustworthy and kind.
"Although he did say that I should teach you a lesson" he meant it as a joke but you tended up immediately, ready to run again. He quickly noticed and shook his head smiling, "Don't worry, I think you almost freezing to death was punishment enough...how do you feel by the way?" He asked with genuine concern in his eyes.
"I'm fine I think...but I still don't understand how I came to be here with you.." all you remembered was crawling into that barn and feeling so tired.
"After you ran out we calmed down my brother and I convinced him to let me handle you. I searched for you a long time before I got lucky and happened to spot you curled up in the corner. You were nearly dead, I didn't waste time and brought you here to my home. I have to say I am quite surprised you are up already considering how unresponsive you were last night."
As he finished speaking you felt suddenly very vulnerable. All your life you had been on your own. You took care of yourself because that was all you knew. And in one night he had cared for you more than your own parents did your childhood. Suddenly you felt bad for every bad thought of him that ever ran through your mind.
"Thank you...you saved my life and somehow saved me from Ivars wrath as well. You must be a magic prince or something, definitely my new favorite" you let out a tired laugh.
His eyes lit up in amusement. You certainly were an interesting one indeed.
"As long as you don't make a habit of slapping princes I promise nothing will happen to you"
You wanted to believe that but you were a slave, anyone on the street could beat you and no one would bat an eye.
"You can't promise that....I mean no offense but I'm a slave, anyone has the right to punish me with the littlest excuse and no one would care.." you were getting angry at the thought of how many slaves you saw get brutally punished for simple mistakes.
Ubbe was quiet for a moment then shrugged his shoulders, "Then I guess I have no choice"
You tilted your head at his non chalant attitude.
"What do you mean?" You questioned.
"I'll just have to make you mine" he said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Make me his? What is he talking about??
"If I convince my mother to give me you as a personal slave I would be able to watch over you. Down the road I would be able to free you and you could still serve and work for me if you wish."
You sat wide eyed at his words, was he being serious right now??
"You want me to be your slave...? And then you would free me..?"
He nodded his head confirming it.
"I've been in need of someone around the house anyway however I'm not looking for someone to force. If you agree, you would work and I would pay you. But you would be free to do as you please. What do you say"
You were stunned, this man had not only saved your life, he protected you, nursed you and now he was giving you your freedom!?
Again your instincts took over and before you knew what you were doing you launched yourself onto his body gripping him in the tightest hug possible.
"I say yes! Thank you my prince!!" You squeezed him still in disbelief.
He was not expecting that and let out a surprised laugh. When you realized what you had just done you shuffled back embarrassed.
"Ubbe, call me Ubbe from now on" he smiled before opening his mouth again, "Now I think I should know the name of the woman I'm going to be spending alot of time with yeah?"
You looked into his eyes and for the first time you felt so hopeful for the future, "Y/n..my name is Y/n".
He smirked and for the first time in your life you felt those tiny fluttering butterflies that all the girls had talked about.
Oh dear so this was what having a crush on someone felt like..
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Thank you for reading! Please lemme know what you thought in the comments 💕
#viking fanfic#vikings#ubbe x reader#ubbe x oc#ubbe ragnarson#ivar#ivar the boneless#slave girl#slave reader#protecting you#self insert#x reader#slap#sick#faints#fainted#freeze#almost dies
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Invisible (Ivar/Reader)
A/N: Hello! I’m sorry for being so absent these days! Seriously uni is killing me, and to make things better, I’m sick😂 so I can barely study or write as I have a constant headache. But I wrote this a few days ago, hoping to post it for my birthday or for Vikings premiere, but I forgot so I'm posting it now... It’s just some idea I had a while ago when I was feeling a bit angsty and it’s probably very bad, but I’m posting it anyway... I want to do two or three more parts and include one of the requests I have for Ivar in my inbox! I hope you like it♥️
Btw I won’t post anything about the new episode until the weekend as I don’t want to spoil anything to anyone, but if someone has already watched it and want to talk about it send me a message! I'm dying to talk about it with someone!
Again, sorry for being so inactive! I have some fics to read and I hope I can answer to your comments and your messages tonight!💕
Warnings: Angst (an attempt), Ivar is an asshole, there are a lot of insecurities for both of them and please don’t let anyone treat you like that in your life. Don’t be like me and the reader.
Words: 3510 I don’t know what’s happening to me these days
gif isn’t mine, it belongs to @bloody-imagines
Kattegat had grown considerably during the years, the trade and the growth in population had enlarged the city. Though when you arrived it was already big, it had grown even more.
There was a lot of people living in Kattegat, and you knew almost all of them.
You had been brought to Kattegat as a slave, after being sold by your father, who had gotten married after your mother's death and whose new wife seemed to have a problem with you living on her house.
Queen Aslaug had bought you, after the slave trader told her you'd been cooking and cleaning for your father for years. She had put you in the kitchen to cook, and then as her personal slave, washing her clothes, making her bed and cleaning her room. She always treated you well, seeing you as the daughter she'd always wanted to have.
Aslaug ended up freeing you, even offering you a small house near the Hall. Somehow, the queen and her family had grown fond of you, and even Floki, who had be the one who taught you the language and the viking culture, seemed to like you.
Your relationship with the sons of the queen had been... Weird. At first, you were scared of them; you were just a little christian girl who had never set her eyes on a man, let alone a viking man. They were big, fierce and you had seen them training on the woods. Their hungry eyes had followed you the first days, while you served dinner or cleaned the hall.
Ubbe had been the kindest to you, smiling softly at you and calling your name with a gentle voice, though his big eyes always roamed over your body whenever you approached him to fill his cup. Hvitserk hadn't been that subtle, biting his lip and reaching to caress your waist and your thighs while you served dinner, his eyes glued to your chest.
Sigurd hadn't paid much attention to you until you had sat next to him on a feast, listening to him playing the oud. He had tried to kiss you after a while, kiss that you had awkwardly avoided, blushing and muttering something about Aslaug calling you.
And Ivar... He seemed to hate you. The first time you saw the terrifying cripple of whom everyone had talked about since you arrived you thought he was the most handsome man you'd ever seen.
His piercing blue eyes had looked at you intensely, making you blush, and his brows had furrowed together while he waited for you to fill his empty cup. It had resulted in you spilling the mead all over him, which had enraged him. Fortunately, Ubbe had intervened before he could hurt you, but since then Ivar had been cruel with you.
When Aslaug freed you, he had argued, saying they needed the thralls and even offered to buy you himself to be his personal slave. The thought hadn't exactly bothered you, as you really liked him, but his cruel smile had hinted you that you would have had a bad time.
He didn't like the fact that you were free and he wasn't able to torment you constantly.
Anyway, and even if you considered yourself pathetic and stupid for it, you kept pining after him. It didn't matter how many times he tortured you, teased you or insulted you, your heart kept beating faster whenever you saw him, and something between your legs turned on when you saw him training with his brothers, working on the forge or even crawling around.
"She's looking at you again" Ubbe smiled teasingly at his little brother, who scowled and kept sharpening his knife, sitting next to the beach and with his back leant onto a rock.
"She's annoying"
"She's hot" Hvitserk smirked softly while looking at you from afar. You were helping Helga to clean the fishes the boys and Floki had captured that morning, but your eyes wandered over Ivar sometimes, and Ubbe had caught you twice now.
"She's really nice" Sigurd glared at his brothers "Ivar does not deserve her attention, Y/N deserves a man, a real viking who can satisfy her and make her happy, who does not torture her and who actually can walk"
"Sigurd" Ubbe glared at him, and even Hvitserk pressed his lips together.
Ivar clenched his jaw, but instead of stabbing his brother, he smirked.
"You're not talking about yourself, are you brother? Because I don't think you can satisfy her or make her happy considering the fact that she rejected you once" he chuckled "You can try and marry her, though, you'd do me a favor"
"Enough, both of you" Ubbe scolded, sighing "I think Y/N is the only one who truly knows how her man should be"
"It's a waste that she only looks at Ivar" Hvitserk groaned "I would happily satisfy her"
"Use one of those tricks that you use with the thralls" Ivar scoffed "She was one of them, so it should work"
"Ivar" Ubbe shook his head "Stop being mean to her"
"I'm not" he replied "I just find her annoying and clingy, I'd love it if she found some other man and let me alone"
"She's the only woman who has ever shown interest in you" Sigurd chuckled "And if you keep being a prick to her, she will be the last"
"I don't want her, she's a christian that thinks that she can now worship our gods and behave like one of us. She's not a viking, she's weak and cannot fight, and she's too small"
"What's wrong with her being small, Ivar?" Hvitserk shrugged "Small or big, she's a woman, her size does not matter when she's under you, with her legs around your waist and moaning as you pound into her" he smirked and Ubbe chuckled, agreeing with his brother "And I could teach her how to fight, you know" he winked at an annoyed Ivar, who blushed when his brother mentioned the sex part.
"I want a viking woman" he repeated "Not her"
"She's coming" Ubbe cleared his throat "Not a word, Ivar"
Helga and you approached the brothers, with a stewpot and some bowls.
"The food is ready" Helga smiled while you left the stewpot on the floor and started filling the bowls before passing them to the boys. Ubbe and Sigurd smiled and thanked you, Hvitserk practically had no time for doing that as he shoved the soup down his throat immediately, and Ivar took the bowl from your hands without even looking at you. While Helga went to give Floki, who was working on a boat, his bowl, you sat down next to Hvitserk who was devouring the soup, smiling at him.
"Do you like it?" You raised a brow and Hvitserk moaned.
"It's amazing" he nodded "Did you make it?"
You nodded, proud of yourself. You had spent almost the entire morning making the soup, knowing that the boys had been training and fishing and would be hungry.
"It's really good, Y/N" Ubbe smiled at you "Thanks"
"You're welcome, I'm glad you..." A sudden noise startled you. Ivar had let the bowl fall on the floor, spilling his content with a disgusted scowl present on his face "Like it" you finished your sentence in a whisper, knowing that he was about to say something hurtful.
"It's the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten" he spat, his eyes sending daggers to you "If you don't know how to cook, then don't do it" you looked away, ashamed and angry at the same time.
"Ivar" Ubbe looked at his brother "What...?"
"If you don't want it, give it to Hvitserk" Sigurd glared at him "But Y/N has spent a good time making this for us, and you should appreciate it"
"I didn't ask her to do it" he shrugged "And if she doesn't know how to make a simple soup, it's not my fault... Now I understand why mother freed her"
You looked at you feet, trying not to cry. It had been an amazing morning. You'd found some flowers at your door that morning, which had made you the happiest person in Kattegat. You had been happy thinking that they could be Ivar's, but his behavior in that moment made it very clear; it definitely hadn't been him.
"Shut up" Ubbe was now angry, one thing was that his brother didn't like you, he could understand that, but humiliating and insulting you was another "You're acting as a spoiled little brat"
"That's what he is" Sigurd shrugged "It's what you become when you've always been mommy's boy"
Ivar gripped his knife, and you looked at him with wide eyes, afraid he'd hurt one of his brothers.
"It's okay" you quickly got up, clearing your throat "Helga is cooking the fish now... Maybe you'll like it more, Ivar" you tried to smile at him, but his annoyed glare mad your smile fade away "I'll tell her to add a few more pieces, so you won't be hungry" you muttered while picking up the empty bowl and walking over Floki's house, trying to swallow your tears.
Helga turned around when she heard you entering the house, but her gentle face furrowed with worry when she saw you trying to dry your tears with your hands.
"Y/N, my dear, what happened?" She hugged you tightly. After her daughter's death, she'd been desperate to have another child, and she immediately felt that motherly feeling towards you, and loved you deeply.
"It's just..." You shook your head, feeling stupid "Nothing, it's just that I cannot do anything well"
"What?" She frowned "Of course you can! You do a lot of things well, love, for example, this soup, I think Hvitserk will ask for your hand in marriage after he's done with it" she smiled.
"Ivar didn't like it" you muttered, shrugging.
"That's weird, I always cooked this soup for him and he loved it" she shook her head.
"I must have done something wrong"
"No, you didn't" she smiled at you, caressing your cheek "He's just in a mood, probably... Do you want to take the rest of the food to them or you prefer staying here?"
You bit your lip.
"I think I'm going to go home" you muttered "I haven't slept very well..."
"But you haven't eaten anything!" Helga replied, the concern making her frown again.
"I'll eat something at home" you smiled, trying to reassure her "See you tomorrow, Helga... Oh, give my plate to Ivar" you bit your lip "He must be hungry" you kissed her cheek before going out of the house, using the back door to avoid the brothers.
Ivar could see Helga was angry at him. He supposed it was because of the way he had talked to you. Gods, it was annoying how much she seemed to care about you. You weren't a viking, just a simple thrall that had been abandoned by her own family.
"Where is Y/N?" Ubbe asked when Helga brought them the cooked fish they had gotten that morning.
"She went home, she wasn't feeling well" Helga glared at Ivar, who rolled his eyes but frowned a bit, feeling a bit guilty "Anyway, she asked me to give you her food, Ivar, as you didn't eat the soup" she gave him a plate with more food. That made him blush and take the plate. He heard Sigurd scoffing and saw Ubbe smirking. Hvitserk, on the other hand, was looking at his plate with a pout.
"You deserve it, brother" it was annoying how Ubbe seemed to know everything "Now think about how you're going to apologize to her while you eat her food"
You stood on your small house, completely naked and looking down at your body with a frown. There had to be something wrong with you.
Maybe it was because you didn't have those long and strong legs that all the viking women had, or maybe it was your belly, which wasn't as flat as you'd like it to be, maybe you had small breasts. Or maybe it was your incapacity to fight, or to be bold and fight as the viking women.
The thing was; no man had ever shown interest on you. Well, Hvitserk had tried to get you into his bed several times, and Ubbe had too. Sigurd tried to kiss you once, but given the reputation of the three brothers with women, every single female present in Kattegat had been in that position at least once on their lives.
But no one had ever actually liked you, you guessed, as no one had ever talked to you in that way.
It was true that you were too in love with Ivar to even look at other men, but as he seemed to hate you, you probably should forget about him...
Then you realized. You were crying over someone who was cruel to you. Well, to you and to half of the population in Kattegat, but especially to you. You only had showed him kindness and love, forgiving his outbursts and always tried to please him, make him feel comfortable. And he only screamed at you and made you feel bad.
You breathed deeply, frowning. You had to put an end to it. You were only hurting yourself while pining after him, and he clearly wasn't interested.
No, Ivar wasn't the right man for you.
Of all the things you loved about Kattegat, the feasts were your favorite. You loved the music, the large amounts of food, the dancing, the people laughing and having fun... You always felt more relaxed and enjoyed those evenings.
That day was no different. You dressed up in a beautiful red dress and left your hair loose, only braiding some locks. You felt better that day. You had received another flower at your door that morning, but that wasn't the main reason of your happiness, as you had began to think it was some type of joke. You were happy because you had spent days ignoring Ivar. You had avoided him a little bit, but you were proud to say that you didn't even look at his direction whenever he was present.
It was a start, and you were already feeling more confident and relaxed.
The feast didn't disappoint. You ate sitting next to Hvitserk and Ubbe, who spent the whole dinner laughing about how Sigurd had tripped over himself while training and had fallen right onto his butt. The story wasn't that funny, but the way they cried in laughter while telling you made you laugh with them, happy to be able to share their joy.
You didn't pay any attention to Ivar, who was eyeing you, annoyed. He had been waiting for your to look at him and smile lovingly, offering him some more food or mead.
He missed it.
Yeah, at first he found you annoying, how you would be all day looking at him and longing for his attention. He couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would be interested in him, the cripple.
He had looked at you, of course he had. Every single man in Kattegat who wasn't blind had.
But you were too much for him, and that angered him. If he had been a true viking, like his brothers, he would have claimed you. But he was a cripple, and you deserved something better.
For him, that was reason enough to be rude to you. Maybe then you'd forget about him.
But a part of him didn't want you to forget.
Ivar frowned, watching as you almost choked on your food after Hvitserk said some stupid thing that made you laugh. Surely you had finally realized that his brothers were a better option than him.
Next to him, Aslaug talked about how he should stop training so hard, saying that he'd end up hurt.
"Ivar" she sighed when she realized he wasn't listening "What's wrong? You look bothered"
Her son looked at her, faking a smile and putting his hand over hers.
"I'm okay, mother"
Aslaug looked at you. She had noticed the change on your behavior with Ivar. She actually understood, knowing how it felt to be ignored, humiliated and hurt by a man.
"If you were nicer to her, she wouldn't ignore you" Aslaug took her cup, sipping on her drink while Ivar scoffed.
"I don't care"
Aslaug raised an eyebrow at his words, but didn't say anything, not wanting to upset him.
Everyone was already drunk. Even you were a bit tipsy, giggling at everything and blushed. You had moved to be closer to Sigurd, who was playing some music while a group of people gathered around him sang and danced happily. You were standing up, your back leaned onto the wall and a cup on your hands. A smile on your lips.
Ivar looked at you intensely. You looked pretty smiling, more than you did when you frowned or winced at his cruel words.
Again, you deserved someone who would make you smile like that.
That angered him, again, and he cursed himself for not being good enough. He never was good enough. Maybe that's why he was so angry at you, because you reminded that to him every time you smiled softly at him and ignored his remarks.
He throw his cup to the floor, clenching his jaw with rage. A part of him would like to go and apologize to you, to tell you that he didn't mean any of those things he always said to you. But he was too proud, and if you laughed at him he wasn't sure of how he would react.
He stayed there, sat on his chair, his lips pressed together and his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard that he would have probably broken it if Ubbe hasn't made him remove his hand.
His brother followed his gaze, smiling softly when he realized he was looking at you. Of course he was looking at you.
You, oblivious to what Ivar was thinking, kept listening to Sigurd, smiling softly. Until someone stopped in front of you. He was a handsome man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was smiling at you.
"Hello" he tilted his head. Gods he was very handsome "You must be Y/N, right?"
You blushed, not knowing how to react. It was the first time a man approached you in that way.
"Yeah, I... Am Y/N" you cleared your throat, smiling nervously.
"It's a pleasure to meet you" he had a deep voice, and his tone was soft and gentle "My name is Einar, I just arrived to Kattegat a few weeks ago and I couldn't help but to notice you"
"Me?" You almost choked.
"Yeah, I have to say, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen"
You blushed, widening your eyes and making him chuckle.
"Well... Thank you, I suppose" you looked away, too ashamed to look at him in the eye.
"Don't thank me, I'm just saying the truth" he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.
You smiled softly, biting your lip. You felt a warmth inside you and you actually felt good. It was just like his comment had made you feel more confident with yourself.
"I see you like music" he looked at Sigurd, who kept playing the oud with a bright smile on his lips.
"Sigurd is really good" you nodded.
"I heard you're close to his family"
"I am" you smiled at him "I came here as a slave for queen Aslaug, but she freed me and gave me a place to live, her sons have been very nice to me... Well, almost all of them"
"I can't imagine how someone could not be nice to you" his blue eyes which reminded you of Ivar's but less intense and softer, were fixed in yours "He must be a fool"
"Ivar is... Complicated" you sighed "But don't let him hear that"
"Would you like to get out of here? We can go somewhere more... Quiet"
You bit your lip, and your eyes scanned the large hall searching for Ivar's. When you finally spotted him, you were surprised to find that he was looking at you, well... Glaring at you. You were tempted to look away and lower your head, as you always did when he glared at you like that. But this time you didn't. You refused to give him power to hurt you again.
He didn't want you, he had made it very clear, you'd dare to say that he despised you, so what were you going to do? Stay there and keep feeling bad about yourself because of his indifference or go away with a man that clearly had some interest in you and who was being much nicer?
You looked at Einar again, managing to compose a charming smile before nodding and taking his hand.
"Let's go"
Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @thisisparadisemylove @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02
I hope you liked it!💜 thanks for reading!
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Towards the sun - Part 8: Guilty pleasure
Pairing: Ivar x OC
Word Count: 2256
Summary: Pia just wanted to go to work, but oh well, shit happens.
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)
Her words caused a big stir.
Not only Sigurd reacted violently. His brothers and their men also shouted. Pia stood quietly holding Blaeja's wrist. She waited for them to calm down, ask her questions and stop insulting her. Blaeja seemed anxious and hid behind her. Pia was not surprised. A bunch of vicious Vikings could be terrifying. However, she didn't think that trusting her to defend them was a good idea.
“She is a Christian!” Ivar began.
“It's hardly your place to decide that,” Ubbe added.
"She's quite pretty," said Hvitserk who was hit in the back of his head by Ubbe.
“You saw it?” Bjorn asked sceptically.
“Why me?!” Sigurd growled.
Pia arranged the answers in their language in her mind first not wanting to make minor mistakes that could disturb their conversation. The silence between them lasted some time and Pia was hesitant to break it now. But she had no choice. You cannot say A without saying B.
“Yes, she is a Christian, but that doesn't mean you are better than her. So stop being an anti-Christian, Ivar. Ubbe, your brother made a lot of decisions for me, and you didn't utter a word, so do not behave so self-righteous. Yes, Hvitserk, she is pretty, but she's not for you. Bjorn, you don't have to believe me. I don't care," she turned away from them and spoke to Sigurd in a hushed voice. “Because you are the only one who will take care of her. Faced with the choice between you, Hvitserk and Ivar, it is quite obvious. She will give you sons thanks to whom your name, Sigurd Snake In The Eye, will remain. So please, listen to me.”
Pia heard someone strike their palms against one another. She glanced in the direction of the sound and saw Ivar. She stared at him in confusion, completely not understanding why he was clapping his hands.
"You've barely been able to say anything just a few minutes ago, and now you speak like this," he said in a mocking manner, leaning forward. "I wonder, what other talents you hide from us.”
Her heart throbbed. She didn't want to treat him terribly, but she didn't want to be treated poorly either. Part of her ached to apologize to him, she wanted to come back, but the other part remembered. Something drew her to him, something craved to be close to him. But Pia knew herself. She knew that in the long run, she required delicacy, not brutality, which Ivar emitted. Then why did she have tears in her eyes, when he looked at her like that?
She opened her mouth to say something unpleasant to hurt him, just as he hurt her, but the flutter of the wings interrupted her. A raven sat on her shoulder thrusting its claws into her shoulder, drawing blood. Pia hissed in pain, but she didn't chase away the bird. It gave her an idea. If they insisted on her association with Odin so much, she would give it to them.
“Am I not the Allfather's favourite? Perhaps, as a gift for such a long endurance with you all, he gave me the Allspeak?”
Ivar fell silent. He didn't have the correct answer, and Pia knew it. She looked at Sigurd again, thinking of communicating well with him.
“So what's your decision?”
Sigurd looked at her with astonishment and only nodded. Pia turned to Blaeja.
"You will become his wife." She pointed to Sigurd. “He'll take care of you.”
;:;
Pia sat with Blaeja all evening. In the end, she agreed to get married to Sigurd, though reluctantly. She was afraid of what was to come, but she kept her face still. From birth, she was prepared to become a wife of a nobleman. Sigurd was not civilized, but he was still a prince. Blaeja had no choice. Now, she would become his wife and she would take her revenge later.
The girl moved away from Pia. Where Pia goes, Blaeja goes. At the table, by the fire, next to Halfdan. Sigurd wanted to take her with him, but Blaeja cried, that it was not proper, that they could be together only on the wedding night. Pia looked at Halfdan, who sighed and whispered some pleas to his brother's ear. When he got the answer he wanted, he stood up and motioned to the girls, that they should follow him.
They came to the tent he shared with his brother. Halfdan said he would give up his bed to them and he would sleep with Harald. Pia thanked him and hid from the cold under the blankets. Blaeja joined her, and a moment later she was asleep, the adrenaline finally died down. Pia was looking at the girl's hair, the colour of ripe chestnuts, and pale skin. She was not attractive by conventional beauty standards, but she had innocence, that lured people to her. Blaeja was young, and Pia condemned her to live with a man she did not love. All this to survive.
Pia wanted to defend this purity because she had it for a short time. As long as she lives with Ragnar's sons, Blaeja will be safe. She'll take care of it. Pia closed her eyes, wanting to fall into Morpheus’ embrace, but no matter how much she tried to sleep, she could not. She slept all day, and it disturbed her biological rhythm. She was not even a bit sleepy. She was wide awake. As soon as she closed her eyes, she saw a man hanged on his lungs. She wanted to vomit, but she tried to swallow it somehow.
She turned to the side, and Blaeja immediately cuddled up into Pia when she felt the older woman moved away. Pia watched her for a moment, wondering how she could trust her so quickly. But Pia thought about her situation with Ivar and about Tanaruz, who also started to trust her immediately. Pia looked up, her eyes focused on the tent's rooftop. She could barely protect herself from life in here, and she wanted to shield two other girls. Tanaruz and Blaeja were similar. Both lost their parents, both were in an undesired situation. Tanaruz as the daughter of Helga, Blaeja as the future wife of Sigurd.
Yes, girls were similar, yet so different. Where Tanaruz was shutting down and weakening day by day, Blaeja appeared to be strong and tried to get everything she could from the circumstances Pia had set down. Pia wondered if Blaeja was so because of childishness and stubbornness, or maybe she defeated her inner demons. If she had any, of course. Pia didn't know what life Blaeja had before all of this so she could dismiss nothing, she shouldn't jump into conclusions. She did not want to see her as a princess who was protected from everything and everyone.
A few days ago, Pia was just a girl who lived her simple life. She attended university, went to work, and watched Netflix. She lived calmly, aware of wars and conflicts, aware of hunger and poverty. And although she knew about it, she lived on because it didn't concern her. She didn't witness the cruelty, she wasn't touched by war. She didn't stand in its epicentre, she didn't have to run away from it. She didn't watch others die, no one raped her, nobody forced her to kill someone.
Future had a lot of laws, but not everyone upholds it. Evil and death are everywhere and always, no matter what period it is. In her time, people are also tortured and murdered, but she cared about that only when she witnessed it. Only now did she appreciate her old life. Her mother who cared for her. Friends who had always been there for her. A job that allowed her to afford food. She had everything she needed, and she was unhappy. Here she had nothing, she was a stranger. She had no home, no family, no money. It was Ivar who took care of what was essential for her to live here.
“You cannot sleep?” she heard.
She turned her head towards Halfdan. He laid on his side, his eyes focused on her figure. Pia slowly, not wanting to disturb Blaeja's sleep, turned around so she could look at the man freely during the conversation. Candles have not been blown out yet, he was probably waiting for his brother to return. The orange light illuminated their faces so that both of them could see their faces accurately.
Pia could see every wrinkle on his face, she could see every line of his tattoo. His eyes were half-open, suggesting that he had either been asleep a moment ago or sleepy right now. He had his hair behind his ear. He looked so soft at that moment, that it cut her heart. If not for the distance separating them, Pia could imagine that they were lying in one bed, and like an old married couple, talking before sleep. But it was not like that, and she didn't want to let herself dream about a problem-free life because it will never be like that again.
Halfdan watched the woman lying in his bed as well. He would like to be there beside her instead of that Christian girl. He would like to embrace her, would like to kiss her, would like to touch her, would like to have her. His brother would laugh at him if he knew what he was thinking about. He would have laughed at him being trapped by a woman he barely knew when he mocked Harald's love. But his thoughts were safe so he could freely admire her freckles, her pink lips, her petite body. However, what he liked best about her were her eyes. Big, doe eyes with pupils of different shades of brown. The right pupil had the colour of the tree bark, and the left one was much brighter, its colour almost like gold.
She nodded.
"Too much has happened over the last twenty-four hours," she admitted. “And why are you still awake? You're probably tired after the battle.”
Halfdan blinked several times, trying not to fall asleep. He slid off the blanket so the cold would allow him to continue talking to Pia. He lifted himself up and leaned on his elbow. Pia threw off her fur and sat on the bed, her feet touching the cold ground. She should let him sleep, but she didn't want to be alone now when she knew he had not fallen asleep yet. Halfdan mimicked her position, then patted the empty spot next to him. He needed to have her close, to breathe her sweet aroma. When she raised her eyebrow up, he used the sleeping Blaeja as an excuse. He didn't want to wake her up, and the beds were on opposite sides of the tent.
Pia nodded and quickly swept from bed to bed. She sat cross-legged and wrapped one of the blankets around her. Halfdan looked at her with a smirk on his face, knowing he would remember to the end of his life how lovely she looked, running to him with her bare feet. Pia was studying him expecting an answer.
"That's true," he admitted. “Emotions after the battle, however, still didn't wear off.”
Pia stared at his face, reflecting on his words. She moved closer to him, feeling that maybe he also needed the closeness of another human being like she did.
“Do you... do you sometimes regret killing? Even if it's a battle, even if it's an enemy? Do you regret it?”
Halfdan knew much depended on his answer. He also knew what kind of answer Pia wanted, because he was aware of how much she was terrified of the sight of the bloody eagle. She was sensitive and delicate. She was a flower that he wanted to protect from strong winds and trampling. But lying was not an option. He wanted her to know what he was like.
"First battles are never easy," he began diplomatically. “You don't see them as humans anymore. You see them as targets, sacrifices. It becomes kill or be killed.”
Pia bit her lower lip. It didn't agree with her vision of the world, but she had to apply a cultural filter. That's how they were brought up, that's what their culture looked like. There was blood everywhere.
"I have never liked red," she whispered. Halfdan looked at her with puzzlement. She just waved her hand. “It doesn't matter. I will never be part of your society.”
“You will!” he shouted. Pia hushed him with an equally loud, shh, seeing Blaeja stir. After a moment, he repeated, his voice quiet. “You will. You only need time. You will learn to live among us.”
Pia sighed, then smiled genuinely. Halfdan, fascinated by how beautiful her face looked at that moment, put his hand to her cheek. Pia let him do it, aching to feel more warmth. She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, and when she opened her eyes, Halfdan's lips were just centimetres away from hers. Pia did not know what to do. Would it be all right to get carried away or should she remain loyal to Ivar?
The decision was made for her.
“Pia! Pia!” shouted a familiar voice. Pia jumped from Halfdan to the proper distance. Hvitserk entered the tent. He was panting, his face was arranged into ugly fear. “You have to go with me... Ivar... he... he almost killed Sigurd.”
Fuck.
____________
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you. are. everything. part 3!
it was then in that moment that ivar realized how much he really needed her with him. all these new feelings for her. what did they mean? he didn’t know whether to be calm and accepting of these feelings, or be terrified and try to forget how he felt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a few months later. ivar had been hearing (and seeing) his brothers with the same slave girl. a girl he had seen before when he had visited (y/n) whilst doing the wash.
they all had been....’with’ her. all of them.
knowing this made ivar feel....less of a man.
he wondered what it was like to have sex. did it feel as good a his brothers made it out to be?.
he wanted to find out.
he wanted to ask (y/n), but of course, she’d never had sex.
ivar made sure of that.
any man that would even smile at her was under ivars glare. he hated any man even coming close to her.
ivar wished he wasn’t so possessive of her. but he couldn’t help it. he only liked when her attention was on him, no other man.
she would get very confused as to why he hated men talking to her. but of course, she had always been so naive and so excited to meet new people.
so when ivar’d glare at the men who were staring at her like she was their next meal, it confused her to no end.
but she trusted ivar and his opinions, so she never truly questioned it. just smiling and shrugging it off.
ivar knew he had to lay with that slave girl. he had too. he needed too.
he was very surprised when his brothers agreed to ask the slave girl to lay with him after he had asked.
he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous and rather anxious for that night. he didn’t want to tell (y/n), hell, he was afraid she’d be outside the cabin cheering him on.
something he knew she’d probably do. so, he lied and told her he was going to go fishing with his brothers. he just couldn't tell her.
she was just like that. so supportive, so caring, giving herself up for others.
that night...had been the worst night of ivars existence. he...couldn’t finish.
couldn’t get her to feel anything but fear.
he couldn’t feel anything. his prick didn’t work.
ivar felt so angry, embarrassed, humiliated, furious. the list went on.
ivar crawled home and slammed his bedroom door shut. his whole body shaking with anger. sweat glistening off his forehead and chest.
he felt as if he could kill someone.
she made fun of him. she actually fucking made fun of him.
(y/n) looked up from her bible at the sound of a door slamming from down the hall.
ivar.
she slowly stood from her bed and grabbed a wrap to cover her bare shoulders, and made her way down the hall.
it was freezing this night in kattegat. her breath visible, even in the hall. she sped up her steps and hurridly mad it to his room.
the sight inside made her freeze in her tracks.
he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his jaw clenched, eyes glaring at the floor, his bare chest rising and falling with each harsh breath.
he was pissed.
(y/n) closed the door behind her, frowning when he didn’t look up at her, or even acknoledge her presence.
“ivar?” she asked, rubbing her arms to try and warm herself. ivar still never looked up.
“ivar? what is wrong?” she asked, moving closer to him. she knew he was doing something tonight, but he never told her what it was exactly.
and she was fine with that. she trusted him. she knew never to question him too much, she never wanted to anger him. he just wanted him happy.
she crouched down in front of him, sitting between his legs. she laid her hand upon his thigh and hand.
“ivar? please talk to m-”.
“back away” ivar seethed, eyes finally meeting her. they were not that beautiful dark blue she had been used to seeing. they were black and hardly recognizable.
“what? i-”.
“back. away”. she continued to stare at him in worry and confusion....and a small twinge of alarm.
she had seen ivar extremely mad before. so mad he had broken something sharp that had cut his hand bad. blood pouring everywhere.
but this? this was an anger she had never seen before. she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she was more so concerned about him hurting himself.
she placed her hands on his shoulders and forced him to look at her.
“ivar. what’s wrong? did sigurd say something?” she asked knowing how his fourth eldest brother could be.
she leaned in closer but he suddenly jerked and growled out loudly.
“no! it wasn’t sigurd, alright!? it was me! just stupid fucking me!” ivar shouted, causing her to move back a bit. but not in fear, but in shock.
what did he mean himself? what was he talking about?
“ivar-”.
“it was me. i made me pissed off, just like always. first my father leaves, comes back out of nowhere, my brothers act as if i am the biggest problem in their lives, and now my-” i cut himself off before he could go further.
(y/n) cocked her head to the side.
“your what, ivar?”. he slowly looked up at her, tears of anger threatening to spill over.
“my.....” but ivar just couldn’t say it. he slammed his fists down on his bed, then placed them over his face.
he sighed and sniffled.
“i lied to you, love. i did not go fishing with my brothers”.
this just confused her even more. she moved back to her place between his legs and waited patiently for his explanation.
“instead, i had my brothers set me up with margarethe.........to have sex”.
(y/n) stared at him with a wide eyed and slack jawed expression. margarethe? and ivar? what the hell were he and his brothers thinking?
she was his complete opposite! she was too soft and far too shy for ivar. good lord, what was he thinking?.
she kept these thoughts to herself and frowned deeply as he continued.
“they fixed up a cabin for her and i. she moved things so quickly, i didn’t know what to do. i was inside her, (y/n), but i felt nothing and she....didn’t like it at all”.
her heart broke hearing all of this. how could margarethe not like it? yes, it was his first time, but surely she lead him through the hard and challenging parts........right?
“i.....my.....i-it didn’t go as i thought it would have. she laughed at me, (y/n). she actually laughed at me. just like everyone else does”.
“hey, do not think that way, ivar. it is not your fault. if she’d have been more willing-”.
“you do not get it, (y/n)!. my stupid fucking prick doesn’t work, just like my stupid fucking legs!” ivar shouted, his voice cracking in despair.
she hated seeing him like this. she hated seeing her best friend in so much pain. she moved closer and grabbed his hands away from his face and held them as tight as she could in hers.
“ivar, please do not talk about yourself in that way. you know that is not the truth”.
“like hell it isn’t”.
“ i mean it, ivar!. i hate hearing you talk about yourself with-with so much hatred!”.
ivar never heard her shout at him before. her eyes were trained on his face, her hands squeezing his.
“your legs are not stupid, they make you who you are. they make you special, they make you the strong, powerful, and most amazing man i know”.
her words brought him comfort, and had calmed him down slightly. his anger slowly fading into sadness.
he sighed and leaned in, letting his forehead rest on hers.
“i am not a man, (y/n). i can never satisfy a woman”.
“ivar, that is not true” she tried to argue. but ivar could barely hear over the blood thumping in his ears.
“what good is the prick i have doing me if i can not pleasure a woman?” ivar asked, sounding so helpless, so broken, so beaten down.
they both then fell into a very thick silence. the both of them never moving from their positions.
(y/n) was thinking as hard as she could. the cogs in her brain working over time. a thought suddenly popped into her head. but...would it work?-
no, she couldn’t think like that. the thought alone made her cheeks bright red. she couldn’t think that way about ivar. her best friend. her only friend she truly cared for.
but still, the thought hadn’t left her mind.
it was now or never, she battled herself over this tiny thought for over five minutes, until her mouth opened without permission and spoke her thoughts for her.
“maybe......it does work, ivar”.
this made him open his eyes and stare at her with a look she could not read.
“what?”.
maybe your prick does work, ivar. but maybe, maybe you were nervous-”.
“i was not nervous” ivar said defensively. but the look she gave him made him sigh and sink his shoulders down.
she smiled lightly at him and moved a bit closer.
“maybe, just maybe your nerves got the best of you. and maybe if you’d have had a more willing partner, it wouldn’t have went down like that”.
her words made ivar feel a bit better about the whole night. but he was still so pissed at himself for failing his first try.
“and maybe if you would have had a bit more confidence in yourself it would have went a bit better”.
ivar looked at her, watching as she moved from her crouching position and moved to sit beside him on the bed.
“you really think so?” ivar asked quietly, his yes meeting hers. she looked back at him and smiled with such tenderness.
“i do, i really do”.
it was then that he remembered what it was like being inside margarethe. it wan’t bad, but it sure as hell wasn’t good.
he remembered him trying with all his might to feel something, anything in that moment.....could it really have just been his nerves and the wrong partner?
he remembered closing his eyes and actually visualizing (y/n). he felt something when he imagined it was her he was inside of. it was like, a sharp, hot feeling flying through him.
but it was only for a moment.
but it did feel good.
he took in her appearance for the first time that night. her hair down in loose waves cascading down her back, that damn nightdress that hugged each curve just right visible though that wrap she wore over her shoulders.
ivar refrained from reaching out to touch her.
he shook his head and stared sadly down to the floorboards.
“but what if it really doesn’t work?”.
“i think you’re wrong” she replied confidently. her eyes staring into ivars with a fiery glare. it made ivar feel very warm.
“really?” ivar mused. a tiny smirk on his face, trying to hide his pain. she nodded and smiled fondly at him. but, ivar seen something different in that smile of hers.
she let her smile fall, her thinking face loud and clearly visible. she was thinking very, very hard.
“what are you thinking about, love?” ivar asked, his voice soft. her eyes were taking in each of his features so slowly.
ivar could feel his heart beat faster every time she met his eyes. he decided he liked this feeling.
“tell me” ivar prodded, genuinely wondering what the hell was going on in that mind of hers.
she sighed lightly, her chest rising and falling heavier and heavier with each new breath she took.
she suddenly leaned closer and pressed her hand to his face, her thumb running back and forth over his cheek-bone. she leaned in so close, ivar could feel her soft breath hitting his lips, making them twitch with nerves.
she’d never been this close to him before in all their years of friendship.
“maybe i can prove to you that i am right”.
hey guys! i hope you like this! part 4 should be up soon! lots of love and thanks from me <3
@anzoh @fawnbrrry @emrysaaryn @kirah34 @titty-teetee @britt-janssens @guardianofthestars25 hopefully i got everyone who wanted to be tagged <3 hope you like it!
#ivars heathen army#ivar the boneless#ivar#ivar ragnarsson#vikings ivar#ivar lothbrok#vikings#vikings imagines#imagines#requested imagine#ivar x reader#ivar fluff#ivar angst#ivar x slave#part 3#ragnars sons#lothbrok brothers#vikings request
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End Up Dead
Series: Brynhilda’s Saga, Ivar x OFC
Warnings: Violent Imagery, none for this specific chapter.
Brynhilda is amazed how quickly two months can pass. She’s almost certain it’s because she’s kept busy. Fetching water, carrying sacks of grain for meals, and grain to the brewer for ale. Whatever physically demanding task Aslaug could think of, she called for Brynhilda to carry it out. Because of all the demands, she’d so far managed to escape the Ragnarsson’s notice. For that, she thanked Odin. From what the other slaves told her, the first three could be very pleasant to be around if you wanted a nice roll in the hay. But it was the youngest, Ivar, that proved the most difficult to work with.
Ivar was a cripple who had been smothered his entire existence by his mother. He was in an awkward stage of life where he tried to prove himself capable despite being crippled, but not having the will power to exercise control over his anger. He was a complete terror to nearly everyone but his mother and eldest brother Ubbe. Brynhilda made a mental note long ago to stay far, far away from Ivar. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to be alone with him.
Getting to know the slaves she shared quarters with was the hardest thing she had to do. They were so nice to her, bathing her when her back rendered her useless, rubbing her feet when Aslaug overworked her, telling her funny stories they made up when she was too angry to speak. It was sickening. Deep in her heart, she loved every moment of it.
She used to have her own set of slaves, four girls that were at her beck and call night and day. She never raised a hand to them, or her voice, but that hadn’t meant she was a good master. It wasn’t just petty tasks and forcing them to care for her. She allowed men under her command to use them as they saw fit. She never cared if they became sick, or injured, she expected unattainable perfection at all times. To soothe the guilt she felt over those transgressions, she made a vow to Odin that she’d do right by her slaves if she ever found them again.
She also resolved to take care of the other slaves she served with as much as she could. Which was how she found herself carrying a jug of ale to the feast hall. Apparently, because the cold was setting in, Ivar was being more of a pain than usual. The slaves were terrified of him, so they solicited Brynhilda’s help. After all, she was brave, wasn’t she? The scar on her back proved it.
Despite her new vow to protect the other slaves, when they crowded around her, asking her to serve the Ragnarssons that night, she was hard pressed not to roll her eyes. As she carried the jug of ale she had to remind herself that the slaves dealt with a different kind of pain than she did. She could take a hit from a fist, they could not.
Before she enters the great hall, she takes in a deep breath to calm herself. Queen Aslaug wouldn’t be there, she had retired to bed early, a migraine overtaking her. There wouldn’t be anyone that could placate Ivar once everyone got drunk.
Having never served anyone in her entire life, she enters the feast hall, not sure what to do. Luckily, one of the brothers makes sure to put her right to work. One of them raises their cup. He has incredibly blonde, bushy hair with a few braids on the sides. “It’s about time.” He whines. As she walks over, she’s aware all eyes are on her. The other brothers raise their own cups for her to fill. Well, it’s easy enough. “You’re new.” One of them states. He’s the only one with a full beard, and a long braid that reaches to the backs of his shoulders. “I am.” She says quietly. “What’s your name? Where are you from?” He continues.
“I’m Brynhilda, I can’t remember where I’m from.” She figures the less they know about her, the better. She doesn’t like the looks they’re giving her. “Why do you look so different?” One asks. His hair is shorter than the first ones, and shaved at the sides. “Hvitserk!” he gets a hit on the back of the head. Hvitserk grunts with the force. “She does.” He mumbles, going back to his food. “Maybe she’s from Islam.” One says. Brynhilda’s eyes snap to his. He’s Ivar, she’s sure. The cruelty and curiosity in his eyes give him away. “Are you girl? Are you from Islam?”
“My name is Brynhilda,” she says, trying to keep her voice from sounding too harsh. “And Islam is the religion, not a country.”
“What does a slave know?” he scoffs. “Ivar, play nice.” The same one that slapped Hvitserk warns. “Why, she’s just a slave.” Brynhilda grits her teeth to keep the smart come back quiet. “I could beat her to death and you couldn’t stop me.” The boy says. Brynhilda scoffs, but manages to bite her tongue. The boy wouldn’t even be able to land a hand on her before she had hers around his throat. Ivar’s eyes snap to hers. “What was that?” he growls. “Nothing,” she mutters. “Nothing, what?”
Brynhilda doesn’t miss the grip he has on his knife. Ivar would surely kill her if she wasn’t on her guard. “Nothing, master.” She puts, bowing a little. ���I’m sorry, are you being sarcastic with me?” He turns to get a better looks at her. “Ivar, please, she’s just trying to do her job.”
“Stay out of it Ubbe.” The boy snaps, without turning to him. “You do realize you’re talking to a prince, right?”
“Oh?” Brynhilda says, “You’re so ugly I couldn’t tell if you were even human.” She winces, her and her big mouth. The unnamed boy, the one she can only guess is Sigurd, throws his head back and laughs. “I think I found my new favorite slave!” he says. Ivar growls and throws himself to the ground. Crawling towards her, Brynhilda holds her ground, wondering what he could possibly do to hurt her. She knew better than to underestimate him, despite being a cripple.
He looks up at her, “You’d better learn some respect, slave.” He growls. “Or I will make life very hard for you.” Brynhilda raises and eyebrow, looking down at him. “I doubt it.” She challenges him. “There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t already lived through.” Ivar’s lips curl into a vicious smile. Saying nothing, he merely slithers around her and into the darkness.
The rest of dinner is uneventful. The remaining brothers try their best to flirt with her, but she doesn’t take the bait. Soon enough, they’re too drunk to notice her anyway. They turn to laughing at each other and talking of great hunts. Brynhilda can’t help the smile that overcomes her face. It’s an intimate scene she’s well acquainted with. Many nights had been spent around a feast table like this, laughing with her friends, boasting about kills. Her smile quickly falls when she realizes that those friends are out there, laughing and boasting without her. Gritting her teeth, she stiffens her face to stone once again. She needs to find a way to stop thinking about such things. The past won’t help her here.
Another pebble is flung into her side as she raises the water buckets over her head. Ivar, son of Ragnar, does not make idle threats. So far he hadn’t really made life more difficult, just more annoying. He’d woken at dawn with the rest of the slaves, just to torment her. He hadn’t outright ordered her to do anything, he was just there, prodding at her, wondering how far he could push her until she snapped. In all honesty, she wanted to strangle the little shit.
He followed her as she brought the buckets back to the feast hall. They were to be warmed for Queen Aslaug’s afternoon bath. Brynhilda knows better than to put the water buckets on the ground, Ivar would surely come up and dump them over, smiling like a child who’d gotten away with being naughty. Just as she was reaching for the door, it opens. She looks up and sees Ubbe. “Master,” She says, grunting as another pebble connects with her back. She saw some very suspect looking mushrooms in the forest once, she could slip those into his food if she ever served them again.
Ubbe looks behind her. “Ivar! Stop torturing the slave.” Brynhilda grits her teeth. I have a name you ass, she thinks. “Excuse me, master.” She says. He steps out of the way and watches as she carries the buckets inside to be warmed. “Ivar, enough!” Ubbe hisses as another pebble lands beside her feet. She leaves them to argue.
Setting the buckets down near the water, she sees that they will be her last two buckets. Thank the gods. The other slaves are tending to the heating of the water. “Brynhilda,” One whispers. “Come sit down.” As she has no other chores lines up for her so far, Brynhilda sits. If she remembers right, the girls name is Sigrid. “I don’t envy you,” She leans in and whispers. “You should’ve known better than to anger Master Ivar like that.” Brynhilda merely grunts.
The girls around her talk pleasantly. Most of the topics are foreign to her. Dreams of marriage and children, cute boys they’d like to snuggle with by the fire. Mostly Brynhilda kept quiet, enjoying the company even if she didn’t participate. “What about you Brynhilda?” Sigrid whispers. The girls all look at her excited. She stares back at them, not sure what they’re expecting. “Don’t you want to get married?” One of the slaves asked. She’s the youngest of them all, no more than eight or nine.
“Of course she doesn’t Rhona,” the other one snaps. “She’s out for revenge.”
“Vigdis!” Sigrid hisses. The girl pales and sends a terrified look to Brynhilda. Vigdis is also young. In fact, out of the five slaves Aslaug had in her household, only Margrethe and Brynhilda were considered proper women. “And how would you know if I’m out for revenge?”
“We don’t,” Sigrid says quickly. “We were just talking earlier. We, um,” She blushes hard. Brynhilda raises an eyebrow. “Did you make up stories about me?” She asks, not trying to hide her smile. The girls look relieved that she isn’t mad at them. “So long as I’m the hero, I don’t care what you come up with.” Brynhilda says. The girls giggle.
When the water is heated through, Brynhilda pours it into the bath. Bidding the other girls farewell, she takes the buckets and returns to the feast hall. She thinks that maybe Ubbe has taken Ivar far away from the hall, but no such lug. “Slave!” Ivar barks. Brynhilda stops in her tracks and turns to look at him. “Come here.” Brynhilda stays where she is. “Are you hard of hearing?” He snaps. “Come here.” She still stays frozen in her spot.
Her logic is this: if he’s going to try and make her life more miserable than it already is, then she’d make him work for it. “Woman!” He yells. “My name,” She says. “Is Brynhilda.” She turns and walks out of the hall. She’s playing with fire and she knows it, but she can’t let that pompous shit brained man-child get the best of her.
She is Brynhilda! THE Brynhilda, named after the Valkyrie, she struck terror into the hearts of men long before they even saw her. How many battles had she won by the sound of her name alone? How many times had men and women reported to be the fiercest in all the land bowed to her? How many aspiring farmers had come to ask her for training? How much of an asshole did she sound?
The longer she spent thinking about what was and what is now, she reaffirmed that yes, Odin meant for this to happen. Foolish hero that she was, at one point she almost felt akin to a god. The arrogance she suffered must have been insufferable.
She’s putting away the water buckets when Sigrid comes running as fast as her legs can carry her. “Master Ivar wants to see you.” She huffs, her hands on her knees. Brynhilda rolls her eyes to the sky. Her father told her that sometimes, the gods continued to add challenges during adventures to teach their champions valuable lessons. What lesson she was supposed to learn from serving Ivar, she had no clue, but hoped it was damn worth it. She just suffered an earth shaking epiphany.
Entering the feast hall, she sees Ivar is still where she left him, at the table. She stands in the doorway, looking at him levelly. “Come here.” He growls. She doesn’t move. The boy places a hand on his axe. She readies herself. She’s far enough away that she believes she can dodge his attack with little trouble. “Brynhilda,” He says, “come here.”
With that, she moves towards him. He seems pleased that she’s finally listening to him. “Yes?” she asks. “Yes, master.” He corrects her. She says nothing. If he’s irritated by it, he doesn’t show it. He’s too busy reveling in the small victory she allowed him. “My brothers have gone to the river. I wish to join them.”
She looks at him, confused. “What’s stopping you?” She asks. He purses his lips together. “I’m crippled.”
“I’m aware.” She crosses her arms. “I am not going to drag myself all the way to the river.”
“Why not? You drag yourself everywhere else.”
“You’re going to carry me to the river, Brynhilda.” He orders, ignoring her comment. “Now?” She asks. “Yes, now.” She shrugs and grabs for him. Fisting his shirt and the crotch of his pants, she throws him across her shoulders and heads for the door. “PUT ME DOWN!” He bellows. Again, she does as he asks, throwing him over her head onto the ground. He lands with a painful sounding thump. When he gathers enough of his wits about him, he rolls over and punches her leg. There isn’t much force behind it, which is surprising, considering how he gets around. She looks at him smirking. “What’s that matter Master?” She says sweetly. “I thought you wanted me to carry you to the river.”
“I wanted you to carry me properly you insane woman!” Another punch to her leg. Still not much force. Either he was holding back or he really didn’t know how to hit anyone. Brynhilda bends down and hooks her arms underneath him, one under his shoulders, the other under his knees. He glares at her. “Put. Me. Down.” He says, voice full of menace. Brynhilda can’t help but smile at him, dropping him to the ground again. He yelps and his head cracks against the floor.
“I’m going to kill you.” He mutters, staring at the ceiling. “It’s not my fault you aren’t beings specific Master.”
“I am being specific.” He counters. “Carry me, on your back, to the river. And do it properly.”
Brynhilda turns from him, gets down on one knee and waits. She hears Ivar move into position. He wraps his arms around her shoulders. She grabs them and stands. “This isn’t-” He starts. “Quiet,” She snaps. “I’ll get you situated in a minute.” She leans forward and awkwardly grasps at his pants. Getting a good grip, she takes a hold of the backs of his thighs and he wraps them around her middle. “You’re strong,” he notes. “you’re fat.” She spits back. “It’s muscle.” He defends. She lets out a bark of laughter. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
She’s near the door when she hears Aslaug call out. “And where do you think you’re going?” Brynhilda turns towards the queen. Ivar mutters a ‘shit’ underneath his breath. “To the river,” He says. “Ivar, you cannot swim.” Aslaug points out. “That doesn’t mean I can’t join my brothers.”
“You aren’t going to the river.” Aslaug says with finality. “Oh, thank Odin!” Brynhilda says, letting go of his legs. Ivar, having learned his lesson from before, tightens his grip on her neck before he’s dropped. It throws her off balance, and she falls with him, letting out a strangled cry.
They spend a few seconds dazed in the pile they’ve become, Brynhilda on top of him. “you’re on my legs.” He growls shoving at her shoulders. “Well, who’s fault is that?” She snaps, getting up. Her back is screaming in pain, so it takes her a while to get to her feet. “Slave, why are you playing around? Haven’t I given you enough chores to do?”
“My lady,” Brynhilda says, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Master Ivar wanted me to carry him to the river. Seeing as you haven’t given me any tasks for the afternoon, but Master Ivar had-”
“You aren’t Ivar’s slave, you’re mine.”
“Why not mother?” Ivar asks. “I want her to be my slave.”
“Ivar,” His mother warns. “She’s strong,” He says, looking up at her. “You saw her carrying me, the others can’t do that. I want her to be my slave and my slave only. I don’t want to share her like we share Margrethe.”
“I did not take her in to be a personal slave.” Aslaug explains. “I took her in to do the labor the others could not.”
“I don’t care.” Ivar states bluntly. Brynhilda is mildly surprised. If Ivar were her son, she would’ve slapped him for such behavior. “She’s strong and she can take me anywhere I want to go. I won’t have to wait for anyone else to take me anywhere.”
Brynhilda looks at the ceiling, praying to Odin for mercy. She doesn’t want to be Ivar’s personal slave. She’d kill him. Let Aslaug be strong just this once. She prays. It’s ignored. “Fine, Ivar.” Aslaug gives in. “She’s your slave.”
She’s careful to keep her groan from escaping. Wonderful, from slave to pack mule. Brynhilda is now assured of one thing, one of them is going to end up dead.
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New Dawn - Chapter Four
Pairing: Ivar x OC
Words: 2.742
Warnings: bad language; blood; fight; magic; explicit; pain;
Notes: So, again, the things are getting deeper and in this chapter you guys will see a side of both Ivar and Isa that not everybody have seen.
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
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They woke up when the sun was about to reach the highest spot in the sky, for the queen's servants has made an improvised tent above them two. The other Ragnarssons had already returned to their boats, leaving Ivar behind.
"Sons of bitches!" he said noticing that they were ahead in their boat.
"Who cares? Here, at least, you can practice what I have taught you!" she spoke rubbing her eyes yawning.
"I understand what you say in your tongue since Kattegat!" he then sat properly.
"One thing is understand. Speak is harder!" and her female servants brought her diverse fruits in a silver tray "Sas efcharistoúme! Thank you!"
"Eán léte étsi... If you say so..." he said surprising her.
"Huum..." and she took an apricot from the tray "Fáo! Eat!"
"What is this?" he asked.
"Fáte aftó to veríkoko! Eat this apricot!" and she put it in his mouth.
And he chewed enjoying the sweetness of the fruit.
They ate and drank speaking only in her mother tongue until the high noon. Then, Isa showed him her boat from inside out, explaining about many of her people and how did they build everything there. In the end, Ivar preferred travel in the trireme with Isa than with his brothers.
A few weeks later, they finally arrived in Northumberland. It was cold and rainy, more than in the Scandinavia. Isa then ordered to her first man in command to take ten boats and leave to Mercia, just as settled in the meeting - they would occupy the realm in a silence complete.
"Anxious?" she asked to him while they were about to ashore.
"I don't know. And what about you?" and he looked to the valleys.
"I am terrified." and she laughed, "I have never fought in such way. Yes, I have killed before, but nothing compares to fight in a battlefield. I kill from the shadows; I have never faced an army before. It is terrifying but exciting!"
"I hope you doesn't die today!" he said turning his face towards her.
"Keep your crippled arse safe today, Ivar!" she smiled "Eíthe oi theoí parakolouthoún páno mas símera! May the gods watch over us today!"
The men and women then landed and started to march while the English King was in the church praying for his god. The great heathen army then settled and waited.
"Símera agonizómaste sti gi poté den eínai gnostó sto laó mas. Símera tha xekinísoume to taxídi mas stin aioniótita. Óti o thánatos gínontai dektés próthyma ólous ekeínous pou stélnoume stin diéfthynsi sas. Óti ta onómata mas antichoún gia tin aioniótita!" she yelled to her men rising her sword to the sky.
"What is she saying?" Sigurd asked to Ubbe while they watched her speak to her one thousand and five hundred men.
"I don't know. She is strange!" Ubbe said frowning.
"She said 'Today we fight on lands never known by our people. Today we begin our journey towards eternity. May death willingly accept all those whom we send to their abode. May our names echo for eternity!" Ivar said in a haughty tone, grinning satisfied.
His brothers looked at him with wide eyes.
"How do you know?" Hvitserk questioned.
"Why do you think I have set her free, brother?"
"I thought she has bewitched you. Or, maybe, that you had lost your mind!" Hvitserk said mocking.
"What else did she taught you?" Ubbe asked.
"You will know at the right time, brother!"
Isa then kissed the blade of her sword and her men cried out loud:
"Gia ti Vasílissa! Gia Isanthya! Ahu! Ahu! Ahu! For the Queen! For Isanthya!"
Isa then bowed to them and knelt as a sign of respect. After that, she swung her sword and sheathed the blade. She remained silent.
The king's army did not take long to appear. It wasn't much than three thousand men.
"Shame!" Isa thought sighing "Párte to kástro! Take the castle!" she yelled to half of her men who obeyed instantly.
In less than expected, the sea of heathens wiped out the christian army. The frontline was capable to decimate them all, spilling their blood on the muddy soil. With the christian king subdued, they settled the camp.
"Shame!" she said to King Aelle in his tongue while cleaning her sword under her left arm.
"What?" he asked frightened while a norse man tied him.
"I thought that a man like you would be a fair challenge. I was wrong. You hide yourself behind your god while act like one. I was expecting ten thousand men ready to fight to death for their land and the love of their king. I was wrong once more!" and she put her sword on her belt.
"Spare me. You are not like them. I can pay you much more than they are!" he begged in despair.
"You cannot pay me the price of loyalty and respect, for you has none of it. Quia Deus miserere animae tuae, christian man! May your god have mercy of your soul!" and she made the sign of the cross in the air towards him.
Aelle wided his eyes and before he could say a word, he was dragged by the rocky ground until the place he tortured and killed King Ragnar.
With a long whistle, a horse rode to her coming from afar. She mounted and followed Ivar's chariot. They went to the pit of snakes.
"Here is where father died!" Ivar said crawling to the pit now open.
King Aelle then tried to bargain his life, but it was useless. The ritual of the blood eagle then begun.
Isa stood in the back, almost beside Ubbe while Floki pinned the king's hand with long dowels like his christian god in a wooden trap. Bjorn then opened the king's back with a glowing knife, making him scream like a pig about to be killed. When the oldest of the Ragnarssons begun to break Aelle's ribs, an eagle cried from the sky and flew right through the bleeding man and landed on the shoulder of the young queen. Everybody thought it was an omen from the gods.
The eagle stood perched upon her shoulder until the death take the king. Isa knew that it was a good sign of her men from Mercia. She grinned cunningly.
"We shall go to the castle!" she said to the eagle and it took flight.
Isa whistled again and mounted the horse.
"The castle is ours, we shall feast there tonight!" she said loud and about to take the path to the camp.
She rode like the wind to gather her men and go to the taken palace. So they went.
"To domátió sas eínai étoimo, kyría mou! Your room is ready, my lady!" the female servant said.
"Sas efcharistoúme! Thank you!" she said being led by the servant.
A bath was ready and waiting for her. Warm and perfumed water. It was a balm to her nerves. Isa then bathed slowly and took her time to get ready to the feast.
After put a red dress on and let her hair loose, she went to the outside of the castle. She was glowing like a goddess when the north men cruised the gates. They went astonished by her beauty.
"Come, my brethren, let’s drink the life!" she said with open arms.
All the men were served. They ate and drank like always while the greek musicians played many songs. Isa danced like always and everybody went to sleep almost in the first’s sunbeams.
Before the darkest hour of the dawn, Isa awoke with some painful moans. She got concerned, for she knew the owner of that tone.
"Ivar?" she called for him after walking bare feet down the halls of the castle and find him in one of the distant bedrooms. He was clearly in pain.
When Isa touched him, she felt all the ache in her waist down. It was excruciating.
"Oh..." she said touching his face "Show me your legs!"
He shook his head as a no.
"I can help, please!" and he pulled his furs out, leaving his legs at sight by the first time "Take a deep breath!"
And he obeyed.
Isa then warmed her hands and touched his lower limbs, massaging one leg at time, intoning old chants while still feeling his pain torture her own body. After moments, his pain got lighter, but it was strong still.
"Come with me, I have herb balms in my chamber that are capable of easing your pain entirely!" she whispered while covering his legs with the fur again "Can you follow me?"
He nodded and then they went to her room. She helped him to lay in the bed and then she got the balms and oils.
"Take your clothes off, please!" she asked after a deep breath.
He obeyed.
She warmed her hands once more before taking part of the balm and part of the menthol oil to spread all over his legs. She was careful not to hurt him while strongly massaging his muscles.
"Now I need you to turn on your belly. I have to take care of you entirely!" and he did what she said, allowing her to almost mount him from the back.
Isa worked on his muscles for a while until she felt that his pain was gone.
"Better?" she asked seeing him relaxed.
"Much. Thank you!" and he turned his back on the bed and saw her smiling.
"Good!" and she leant on him ready to kiss his lips.
Ivar pulled her closer, hugging her and making her lay upon him. His hands traveled across her skin and she knew that he wanted her.
"I won't fuck you yet, Ivar, you know that!" she said touching their foreheads.
"Then let me sleep here. Just sleep!" he asked while kissing her neck.
"You rascal. I help you and all you want is to take me under you!" she giggled.
"I promise I will not try anything!" he kissed her cheek.
"Therefore, you can sleep here with me. I know that you cannot sleep well far from my body!" and she kissed his lips before lean to his side to lie on the bed.
"Oh you smug pet!" he turned to her side and passed his arm on her waist.
"You're welcome, Ivar!" she said while threading her fingers in between his.
He spooned her and then slept smelling the sweet perfume of her hair.
The two sleeping in the large bed close to the fireplace woke up with the sound of the rain in the early morning. They remained in each other's arms during the whole sleep. It has become sort of a habit since the night at the barn although she has left him for months after that. Ivar would never admit, but since she was gone his nights wasn't the same. Watch her sleep every night were soothing for him. Their strange bond also affected him in many ways.
Sleepy, Isa closed her eyes unable to get off the bed and face the cold. It was cozy to have Ivar grabbed on her body, breathing calmly in the gap of her neck. She could get used to that for the rest of her life.
"We need to get up!" he whispered tightening his arms around her.
She shook her head and hummed a negative answer.
"Since when you became so lazy, monster?" he teased after yawn.
"It is not laziness. I just do not want to face the world right now. I am close to paradise here with you. It would be a shame to let it go so easily because we have to continue the raid!" she spoke in a tender voice with eyes still shut.
"Why you always do this to me, Isa?" and he hugged her even more.
"It is because I know that you worth my sweetness and the pain that may come with it. You deserve to see me as I am when I am alone with you and you not try to be tough!" and she slid her fingers through his hair after touching his cheek.
His heart went fast.
"You are waking up things inside me that I did not know that existed. It might be dangerous!" and he brought his hand up to her neck, gripping it with a little strength.
"No worries, brat, I will not tell the world that Ivar the Boneless has a soft side. What would I gain if the women know that you are more up to being Ivar the Tenderness? I rather to have you sweet just for me!" she giggled.
"Look what you do to me, witch!" he giggled too before pressing his hard manhood in her arse.
"It is because your body already knows that you love me!" she said and turned around just to see him flush.
He swallowed in silence, what made her smile.
Isa kissed him softly in the beginning, rolling to be upon him, ready to intensify her act. But, suddenly, someone knocked at the door. She growled before getting up and see who was the inconvenient. It was Hvitserk.
"We are leaving before the noon." he said looking at her transparent raiment.
"I know." she said drawing his attention to her lips.
"We know, brother!" Ivar yelled from the bed.
Hvitserk then entered the room without ceremony just to see Ivar laying naked with his hands on the back of his head.
"I am sorry to frustrate your plans of fucking her this morning, brother, but, as you see, she is claimed!" Ivar said sitting.
"Claimed... Right... I am not a slave to be claimed by none of you. Bite your tongues the both of you!" and she frown a bit angry.
Hvitserk choked a laugh while Ivar shown confusion.
"But I would not fuck you, Hvitserk. You are not worthy. Not until now, not the way I cherish!" she completed.
Then Ivar laughed aloud.
"Maybe some day, big boy. Maybe you change the way I see you!" and she showed him the door so he could leave.
Ivar stop laughing.
"I thought you were mine!" he said when his brother left and she closed the door.
"I am mine until the day I give myself to someone else!" she grinned "Where was I?"
Isa walked towards the bed like a wild cat, crawling upon the furs, ready to kiss him with greed.
"You are fickle. Unbelievable!" he said.
"Hate me then!" she whispered in his right ear making him shiver.
"Do not play with me, woman!" and he grabbed her wrists, holding them behind her back.
"Or what?" and she licked his lips.
"You are the evil, Isa, the pure evil!" he said while she sat on his lap.
"And you are harder than before. I really wish you inside me, making me scream your name louder than never. But not before we fight against Ecbert's army." and she bit his lower lip.
"You are going to drive me insane, you fucking monster!" he growled about to bite her neck.
She laughed like a kid.
"Please, Ivar, not my neck. Your beard... I have tickles!" she begged between the giggles.
"Oh, now you say please?" and he continued to bite her slightly while rubbing his morning beard on her skin.
Ivar then put her on the bed and laid on top of her, holding her hands upon her head. At that moment, his member started to touch her in her entrance.
"By the gods, Ivar..." she said still laughing "I want you to fuck me so hard! Fuck!"
"You only have to ask..." he rustled close to her mouth.
Her eyes then went white and her laugh stopped abruptly.
She saw herself losing blood in the battlefield, surrounded by men and women. And from far, she saw Ivar being hit by a spear. Her heart stopped in the moment he fell from his chariot. She came back to herself bursting in tears.
"Ivar!" she sighed and embraced him as strong as possible.
"What did you saw?" he asked worried.
"We shall respect my gods’ will, please!" she said sobbing, hugging him harder, afraid of losing him.
"Isa, what did you saw?" he asked again even more concerned.
"Just lay here with me a little longer, please!" she begged with a clumsy voice.
Then he laid his head in her bust until her calm returns.
#vikings#ivar the boneless#ivar's heathen army#ivar ragnarsson#ivar imagine#ivar x oc#new dawn#fanfiction#imagine
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New Beginnings
Series: Brynhilda’s Saga
Warnings: Violent Imagery
Though the Seer makes her uncomfortable, Aslaug knows he’s a man that deserves her utmost respect. It’s the face, she determines, that upsets her. It’s so scarred and ugly. Despite all that, he is the most holy man in all of Kattegat and she is the queen. They both have certain duties. Hers is to invite him to the feast celebrating a prosperous harvest, his is to show up and tell stories. He tells the old stories with flare, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in them.
The party has since died down. Most people have either passed out on the floor, the tables, or have gone home. Only her sons remain with her, nursing their last flagons of ale. Ivar has been pressing him to tell a story the entire evening, but tonight, the Seer is in no mood for it.
“At least tell someone’s future.” Ivar presses. “Tell my future, will I be a great warrior, like my father?” Aslaug watches as the Seer moves his head towards her son. “The gods show me only one future tonight.” He breathes quietly. “And it is not yours.”
“Well then who’s, is it?” Ivar snaps. Aslaug gives him a warning look. This is the Seer after all, he should show some respect. The Seer takes his time answering, lifting his head as though he were listening to the silent whispers of the gods themselves. “She is a dead woman come back to life.”
“The dead can’t come back to life.” Sigurd scoffs. Ubbe nudges him. “I don’t think the Seer means it literally.” He mutters. He leans in, however, interested in the prophecy. “Continue?” His tone is polite, and though the Seer can’t see it, he smiles. “Her rage is endless, brought upon by the pain of betrayal. She is but a wraith that walks towards Kattegat, the singular thought of revenge on her mind.”
“Does she mean us harm?” Aslaug whispers, terrified of this woman already. The Seer turns to her, smiling. “You are no enemy of hers.” He stands, a little stiff with the cold that has entered his joints. “The gods are interfering personally with her life. This happens once in a few generations. I am lucky to have seen it happen twice.” He looks pointedly at Ivar who seems confused. As he walks from the feast hall, he parts with the last words; “I’d be prepared for her if I were you. She’s quite the storm.”
Brynhilda can’t remember how it happened or when it happened, but she was buried. She remembers her hands slipping from their binds. She remembers crawling around desperately for food and drink. She remembers curling up in the roots of a tree to sleep. But when she awakens, it is to a lack of air.
The grave she’s placed in is a shallow one. The gravediggers were lazy. Not only did they leave her hand poking out, they only threw a shallow layer of dirt over her. She begins to claw at the mud in a blind panic, needing to see, needing to breathe. She rises from her grave with a screech. She gasps for breath, choking on the grit lodged in her throat.
She scrambles from her grave, sobbing with fear. The dead have always made her uncomfortable, but to be buried among them terrifies her. When she’s finally free of the muck, she turns on her back, chest heaving. The gentle rain is cold on her skin, she soon begins to shiver. She takes the time to catch her breath. Staring at the sky, she prays, to both her parents’ gods to give her the strength to see her plans through.
Sitting up, she reaches for the ring on her finger, relief flooding her when she finds it’s still there. She stands on shaky legs, nearly collapsing from the pain in her back. She’s still in the field she was blood eagled in, still naked from the waist up. She clutches at her shoulders and begins to make her way across the field, going the opposite direction the army was chased in. Less of a chance to run into trouble.
Slow, jerky movements coupled with the mud clinging to her skin and her emaciated appearance makes it look as though she’s a draugr off to haunt someone. She reaches the tree line, and begins looking for a source of water. It’s hard to concentrate when all she wants to do is lie down and sleep. With every stumble, it gets harder to get back up. Eventually, she stops to lean on tree, needing to get her bearings. That’s when she hears the humming.
She watches silently as an old man pops up from the long weeds of grass. He’s facing away from her, so of course he doesn’t see her watching him. He totters on, picking weeds and mushrooms, most likely for his dinner. “Excuse me?” She calls, finally deciding that he can’t be that dangerous. The old man yelps and whips around, holding his axe in the air. She’s too tired to even go on the defensive. “I need some help.” She explains. “Oh, I bet you do,” the old man snaps. “You need to be helped to my home so you can rob me blind and kill me I bet.”
“N-no,” She tries to push herself off the tree but can’t. “I was just,” she shakes her head, trying to clear the fog. “I was just in a battle,” she doesn’t get the rest of it all out before her knees buckle underneath her. Her vision swims as she reaches for the old man. He doesn’t come to her as she falls into a faint.
The old man had to admit, the girl was a good actor. Covered in mud, half naked, and fainting like that. All he does is chuckle and prepare himself for an attack. Five minutes go by, ten. Smiling triumphantly, he walks up to the girl, ready to kick her ‘awake’ and tell her the plan didn’t work. As he gets closer, moving cautiously along the way, he sees something’s off about her. He’s inches away from her now, and he’s staring, trying to figure out what’s wrong about the picture.
He backs away in disgust when he sees the maggots. He steels himself and takes another look. The wound is so deep he can see her spine. That’s when he realizes who she is. He was hiding in the woods when he saw the sacrifice. She’d born herself upon the altar with dignity like he’d never seen. Everyone around her seemed either to regret what was happening, or to fear the consequences. The Blood Eagling had been carried out with the utmost reverence until an opposing army attacked. That that happened two weeks ago, by his account.
“You are certainly a lucky one,” He mumbles. He shoulders his basket and puts his axe back into his belt. Bending down and hooking his arms under hers he begins to drag her back to his hut. The old man is stronger than he looks, he’s able to make it back into his hut quickly. “Dagmar!” He yells to his wife. “Dagmar!” The old woman slams the door open. “Eysteinn Eysteinnsson you had better be yelling for me for a good reason!”
“Get a healing paste ready, and start dinner, make sure there’s enough broth to go around.”
“What in Odin’s name-” She stops as he drags Brynhilda up the steps to his home. “What is that?” She steps aside to let him drag Brynhilda into their hut. He settles the girl by the hearth and rushes about the home. “Eysteinn, who is that?”
“Never mind that, she’s hurt, and close to death. Come, quickly, start dinner, and clean her, and get something warm to put on her.” Dagmar doesn’t argue, she knows better when her husband uses his irritated tone with her. She’s was just beginning to put vegetables and meat into the pot when her husband began to yell at her like a mad man. It’s the first task she finishes.
She’s just rushing from the home for clean water from the nearby river when Eysteinn leans down to inspect the girl. It was grim work. It wasn’t just maggots that had taken root into her flesh, but worms and beetles as well. He removed them all carefully, throwing them into the fire when he caught them. There was nothing he could do for her ribs but adjust them and hope they healed properly. He made a mental note to put her on a stiff board that would keep her back straight. As for the wound itself, all he could do was clean it, put a paste on it, and make sure it didn’t rot.
Dagmar places the bucket of water beside him. They both set to work. They’re gentle with Brynhilda while they cleaned her. When they’re done, Dagmar holds the sticks Eysteinn wraps with bandages. It will help keep the girl’s back straight as she heals.
Over dinner, they stare at her, expecting her to awaken at any moment. “We are too old to take care of this child husband.” Dagmar whispers. “We won’t last the winter, and neither will she.” Eysteinn chuckles. “We are but fifty, wife. We have years left in us.” Dagmar huffed, spooning more soup into her mouth. “She will bring trouble.”
“I don’t think anyone knows she’s here.”
“Husband,” Dagmar growls. “Hush now Daggy,” He says, kissing her cheek. “Everything will be fine, I promise. The girl will live. Today starts a new beginning for us, and you should be grateful.” Dagmar huffs but seems placated by her husband’s words. Perhaps he was right, perhaps this was a new beginning.
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