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bjornswoman · 4 months

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Destruction XII

Author's note: Hello, happy New Year to you all! Sorry for being too late to post the last part of these series. However, here it is I hope you will enjoy it!

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, series, fluff, drama, angst.

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of pregnancy.

A couple of months later.

You had forgotten the sound of your own giggle the past year. However, those two last months were enough to prove you wrong and remind you that you still contained the ability to feel happy and laugh — finally.

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed laughing at your friend Torvi. There had been a long time since you last met each other. Actually, the last time you saw her was before your wedding.

A wedding that never really happened because Ivar decided to take you away. He had confessed that he loved you that same day as well. You could recollect the memory as it was yesterday.

Flashback – Two months ago.

“It’s not what you believe, (Y/N). It wasn’t just revenge for me. You mean a lot to me. You know I am just not good at saying those things and you, also, know that I can be dickhead sometimes. Don’t cry for me. I - I care for you.”

Ivar had said and kissed you like his life was depending on this kiss – like both of your life were depending on this kiss.

“Don’t get married, you don’t deserve being treated like that. Dump that asshole.”

You needed to hear these words back then – you needed a motive to stop that madness. After all, you didn’t love Mason, but Ivar.

You didn’t treat Mason right, so leaving him before this mistake would be the only thing you would do to save him from being miserable next to you – because of you.

“I won’t, Ivar.”

“You are mine.”

“I am yours.”

End of flashback.

“Oh, I’m and that’s not even the end of it.” Torvi continued speaking and got you out of your thoughts about that particular day. “Your mother was about to kill Hvitserk when he announced that Ivar had stolen you – those were the exact words he used.” She laughed. "Besides you know the love your mother contains for Hvitserk." You both laughed at her remark.

It was well-known that your mother loathed the sons of Ragnar – especially Hvitserk. She would call him peccant or sinful. Generally, she would criticize his way of living. Not that Ivar was her favourite brother though, but Hvitserk worked as a red flag for her.

You could picture your mother's face after hearing Hvitserk announcing that the wedding was over because you run away with his brother. You were sure long before Torvi told you about the events of that evening that she was furious – that was the main reason you hadn't even tried to contact her since then.

"What about Mason?" You hesitated to say his name after the way you treated him, though he wasn't honest to you either – as he lied to you about the events of the past and blamed Ivar about his doing.

Anyways, you felt guilt of your own lies, because you acted the very same way you accused Ivar of when you walked away on him.

"Oh well, I heard that he is fine though he and the boys are distant after what happened. He blames them for helping Ivar. Anyways, Ubbe told me that Ivar mentioned that he is after Freydis again."

You could understand the way Mason felt, but you couldn't focus on this after some names were mentioned successively.

"Ivar?" You muttered before you could stop yourself.

"Yes, Freydis told him."

You felt jealous once again about the same thing – you were back to the beginning of this messed up story. You felt weird after everything that happened the last two months in contrast with what Torvi just told you. Maybe you were just overreact, but still you couldn't bear lose again.

Maybe your love wasn't the healthiest one , but it was strong enough to swallow you if he hurt you like he did previously.

"Don't tell me you are jealous." Torvi said smiling after receiving no response from you.

"I'm not jealous of her." You fought back and she chuckled. It was too obvious that you were lying.

"You didn't really tell me what happened with Ivar after you left." She mentioned and you smiled at the memory.

Flashback – Two months ago.

Your heart was full after a very long time it felt half without him. You felt happy again being close to the person who you loved the most. Probably this wasn't the best way to come back together – not even close to be honest – but what was worth it for you was the fact that you were sitting on the passenger's seat of his car and he was on the driver's seat taking you away somewhere that only he knew.

Nobody spoke a word though – an awkward silence was surrounding the car. You didn't know what to say – you didn't know whether you had to say something or not. You knew Ivar by heart and yet you couldn't predict what was inside his head. You knew when he was mad, happy or sad, but you couldn't say what was bothering him.

"Ivar." You breathed and turned your eyes at his figure. "Do-do you love me?" Your voice was barely coming out as a whisper. It was a silly question to ask – even after he crashed your wedding and told you that he cared for you – you wanted to hear him saying this particular word. You hadn't heard him saying it – at least not to you.

"What kind of question is that? Didn't I told that I care for you less than an hour ago?" You could say by hearing the tone of his raised voice that he was getting annoyed by your question. You were aware of the fact that he wasn't good with words – especially this kind of words, but you wanted to hear him saying just for once.

"Why is it so difficult for you to say it again? Tell me, do you love me, Ivar?" You raised your voice out of frustration. You couldn't understand the reason why it had to be that hard for him to tell you about his feelings.

The possibility that he didn't feel that way came in your mind. Maybe he was just possessive when it came to you or it could be obsession the feeling he contained for you. Those could be the actual reasons why he couldn't express his love fore and that would be because it was non-existent.

"Yes!" Ivar yelled with obvious anger at you and hit his hands on the wheel.

"Yes, what?" You pressured him more as you were angry and disappointed at the time because of his inability to express himself to you – the person he was supposed to love.

Ivar hit the brake pedal so forcefully that if you weren't wearing the seatbelt you would be out of the car when it stopped. You turned your face at him and he had already focused his furious blue eyes on you.

"No, Ivar, you don't." With those last words you stormed out of his car and started walking at the opposite way from the one he was driving on. Though, you didn't get to make it far away because his hand grabbed yours tightly and forced you to turn back and face his wrath.

"What do you think you are doing? And what the Hel are you saying?" He growled on your face as you were trying to break-free from his grip to no avail.

You breathed heavily and looked his angry face.

"All you feel about me is some kind of authority and possessiveness as I'm one of your belongings." You spoke and motioned on your hand he was holding firmly. "The worst part of it is that it isn't even new to me to get this treatment from you. You don't love me, because you don't know how to and that's due to the fact that you feel that you don't deserve the love the others are trying to give you. The only thing you know how to do is hurting these people with your childish behaviour." You continued telling him with tears falling from your eyes – tears that you wiped away with your free hand.

Ivar was looking you without speaking, he was just looking at you quite shocked. Behind his anger you could spot guilt and redeem. He knew himself that you were right and that was the most painful part for both of you.

"The next one who will come in your life and try to give you the love you deserve let her." After these words, more tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You grabbed your gown on the palms of both of your hands and took a couple of tiny steps believing that Ivar would let you walk away from him – from his life.

However, such a thing didn't happen because he used the hand of yours he was gripping and pulled back – this time he held you closer to him your bodies were touching. You tried to fight back again, but he was too strong for you in such way that when he pulled you the lacework of your dress was ripped.

This time he even stopped holding your hand and he went for your throat. His grip was as tight or strong as it was on your hand, but it was firm enough to pull your face closer to his.

"Too late for that." Ivar said in raspy voice. "There is someone who has already made my heart beat for her – who have made me feel all of the things you've said before. I didn't know how it felt to be truly loved by somebody because of the problem I faced. I thought everyone pitied me – the poor cripple – until you came. You saw me what love really means – what it is – and I sent you away. When our paths crossed again, I thought that all I felt for you was just lust or possessiveness for a woman who used to be my partner. However, I got hold of my feelings – of my true feelings – after our first kiss in the bowling alley, when I called you to come to that bar to tell you about my conflict with Mason and after we got drunk and went to my house and slept together, remember? In fact, all this was just an excuse because I wanted to see you."

When he finished, Ivar let go off you throat and one of his hands touched your arm as the other when on one of his pockets. His touch was really genuine on your hand.

"I remember." You mumbled and smiled as you remembered that particular night you spent together.

"You want me to tell you that I love you, but you know that I'm difficult with words. Though, for you, I'll say it, but before I have to do something else." Ivar stopped and afterwards his hand got out of his pocket holding a red-whine velvet box.

You looked first at the box shocked and then at Ivar.

"Ivar, you don't have to do that just to prove your words to me." You tried to say, but he stopped you by taking your hand in his, after he opened the small box. As you expected, it contained a ring, but it was not just a random ring he picked. It was the ring you had told him years ago that you wanted to be the one you would be proposed with. It was a unique design which you couldn't find easily, but he did for you.

"I love you." Ivar finally confessed and you could even spot a tear on his cheek. His forehead touched your own as he eyes found yours. "Will you marry me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" He asked and you smiled widely.

At the sound of his words, you felt your heart hitting your chest with just force that it was going to rip out of your body.

"Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Ivar Lothbrok!" You exclaimed and kissed him passionately. This kiss wasn't like anything you had experienced. It was different from any other you had shared. One that both of you were expressing within it your deepest feelings about the other person.

When you stopped, Ivar pulled you closer to him again and placed the ring on your finger.

End of flashback.

After that moment that you would never forget about, you spent two months away from everyone you knew. It was just the two of you in the middle of nowhere. However, you had to return back in Kattegat to face the real life and what came after the decisions you made.

Ivar's family welcomed you back and they were glad to hear about your engagement – though they could see it coming. They knew better that you two about the feelings you shared.

So, there you were, talking with Torvi about the days that came after your almost-wedding with Mason.

Torvi looked at you with narrowed eyes and a huge smile on her face.

"And after this you are still jealous? You are crazy girl!" Torvi exclaimed and both of you laughed again. "No, I am being serious now." She said and you both burst into laughter again. "No, seriously now you are getting married with the love of your life!" You smiled and looked back at your feet.

"And that's not even the end of it."

"What do you mean?" Your friend asked confused and your smile became even more wider than it was already. "(Y/N)?" She asked you again anxiously this time.

As an answer, your hand moved on your stomach and you caressed it meaningful. In Torvi's face formed a smile identical to yours.

"Don't tell me that you...." She exclaimed and you tried to prevent her from let everyone know about your little secret.

"Shhhh, I am, but Ivar doesn't know yet. I am going to tell him tonight and then we are sharing it with the others. Keep it for me, okay?" You spoke on a soft tone of voice and Torvi agreed happily before she congratulated you about your pregnancy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night.

The night sky was very beautiful – enchanting you could even say. But that wasn't the best part of the night, that part would be the fact that you were sitting next to your fiancé, trying to find the best way of telling him that you were expecting his child as he was engrossed in with laptop with work matters. You were away for so long and matters had piled up.

"Ivar, when do you think that we should get married?" You asked him out of the blue as you stood up and walked through the balcony. Ivar glanced at you for a quick second and then turned his attention back on his laptop.

"I don't know, but we should not rush. In three to four months, what do you think?" He proposed without looking at you and you smiled, because this conversation was taking the way you wanted.

"That won't be convenient. I think that it should happen in one or two months." You continued.

"Why so?"

"I'll have gained weight. I won't feet in any dress."

Your words caught him off guard. He abandoned the computer on the coffee-table and fixed his eyes on you confused.

"What do you mean?" Ivar asked as the edges of his mouth lifted and left the sofa to come closer to you. He stopped on when his body was behind yours.

"What do you want me to mean?"

"Don't riddle me, (Y/N)." His voice was stern and you couldn't help your little smirk. "Are you pregnant?" He asked as his body collided with yours and his muscular hands hugged your torso and stayed on your stomach. Your back was touching on his chest, so you couldn't see his facial expressions. "Tell me." He demanded impatiently and you smiled.

You knew how much he wanted a child – a daughter or a son. You were also aware of the fact that he was delighted when Freydis had told him that she was pregnant in the past and thought it was his child when it wasn't.

"Yes, Ivar." You whispered and tilted your head at the side to catch a glimpse of his reaction to your news. What you saw was a tear slipping from his eye and you smiled again. "Are you happy?"

"No." Your blood froze in your veins and your smile died on your lips. You turned so you could face him. "No, I am not just happy. I'm thrilled!" He exclaimed and you felt your heart beating normally in your chest again.

His hands closed you inside them and one of them caressed your hair softly.

"I love you, wife."

You giggled when you heard him calling you wife.

"I love you, husband."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @anotherfan07, @heavenly1927, @zvacu-te-pile-moje

#vikings ivar #ivar imagine #modern ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar x reader #vikings modern au #vikings imagine #modern ivar x reader #vikings x reader #modern vikings x reader #modern vikings

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 months

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come.

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods.

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives.

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance.

And Ivar relished every moment.

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated.

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them.

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives.

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come.

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act.

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him.

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come.

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted.

Fucking pathetic.

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer.

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it.

"Wake him up."

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man.

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now.

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement.

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief.

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?”

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case.

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue.

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination.

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane.

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.”

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white.

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her.

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain.

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off.

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover.

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side.

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–”

Another smack reverberated in the air.

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out.

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse.

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!”

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill.

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands.

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha.

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing.

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise.

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs.

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of.

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still.

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin.

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?”

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered.

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now.

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.”

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic.

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face.

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed.

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high.

“You live!”

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence.

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?”

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim.

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them.

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real.

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm.

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest.

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side.

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out.

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name.

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water.

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket.

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn.

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?”

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number.

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief.

Someone was calling him about Kari.

As an emergency contact.

From a hospital.

Where she is a patient.

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him.

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him.

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying.

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her.

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting.

He had promised.

And he failed.

Again.

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again.

“Yes.” He croaked out.

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call.

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic.

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed.

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror.

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.”

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option.

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes.

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her.

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass.

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel.

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort.

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind.

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on.

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

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jadelynlace · 2 months

Text

"All the Time"⎮ Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

read more of Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: Yeah, it's the super smutty piece I warned you all about. In hindsight, maybe it's not all that raunchy? I don't know. You can tell me. Also, fun fact! While I wrote this, my captain sat across the table from me, completely oblivious (he figured I was writing my care reports, and I was. Kinda). I literally have the best poker face.

Word Count: Just under 2,000 words (of porn)

Conversation falls around you. In the cool air of the evening you’ve grown comfortable with your legs thrown over Ivar’s thighs, sitting at an angle as his hand hooks around your shoulder. Drowning out the words around you as you scroll on your phone to decompress your social battery, bombarded with videos from Hvitserk as he thinks that’s a successful way to use his energy during his over time shift. And, quite frankly, he’s right.

“But where are people finding the time?” A voice says. “I work a full time job, I go to the gym, and I’m trying to get a full 8 hours of sleep and cook for myself—where do people find the time to date? To even hook up?” The voice continues.

“Ivar and I fuck all the time,” You say, and you don’t even really realize that you said it out loud until Ivar’s hand is over your mouth.

“That’s really all the input you have for the conversation?” Another voice says. You’re quick to lick Ivar’s palm as he lets out an estranged noise, wiping your salvia on your back.

“I’d have more of an input if we were actually having a conversation,” You mutter back.

“Why on earth would you lick my fucking palm?” Ivar says, shooting you a look. You lean into his ear closely before speaking:

“You don’t seem to be too upset when I lick the other things you put near my mouth,”

There’s a low rumble from Ivar’s chest as he registers what you’re saying and you smile.

“What can we use as an excuse to leave?” He whispers to you.

“The fact that I work in the morning?” You try and Ivar just nods at that.

You climb off of him, standing with a stretch and you feel eyes on you.

“Leaving already?” Someone whines.

“Well, as riveting as this conversation is regarding your ability to not adapt to being adult, I do have to work in the morning. So I am going to get those 8 hours of sleep you keep talking about,” You say.

“Well then, why are you leaving, Ivar?”

“Uh, because I don’t want to wake her up in the middle of the night when I come home from the bar?” Ivar answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can spend the night with me!” Aiden teases.

“You have one bed,” Ivar tells him.

“Exactly,” Aiden smirks.

“Do you…do you want to spend the night with him?” You tease.

“No, no I do not,”

“Alright, why don’t you kiss him goodbye then,” You add, patting Ivar’s chest and Ivar shakes his head.

Aiden offers him a kiss through the air, and a wave, but Ivar only flips him off, rounding the corner to leave. Not a second passes before Ivar turns back around, looking at Aiden and returning that kiss through the air.

You’re all but tossed onto the bed, a quick display in both Ivar’s strength and his dominance has you landing suddenly against the pillows before her’s climbing over you. Wasting no time as he comes to cover your body with his, mouth seeking yours.

“Oh, so you really weren’t that mad at my comment,” You try, seeing if it’ll fuel his fight. Ivar doesn’t say anything as his mouth travels past the shell of your ear, meeting he nape of your neck and his teeth nip at your flesh. “Because revealing to them that we have “sex all the time” was not necessarily a lie,”

“Stop,” Ivar says suddenly, his blue eyes coming to catch yours. They flash with a quick display of anger, momentarily muting your brain and making you refocus on him. And how he’s in charge right now.

“Stopping,” You peep back.

“Good girl,” Ivar groans, mouth catching yours for a kiss that is all tongue. He would smile to himself at how well he knows you, but his lips are occupied.

The last articles of his clothing are flung across the room as Ivar moves again, pushing his knee to divide your legs as they instinctively part for him. You can feel his hardness against your cunt throbbing, as Ivar’s hands come on each side of your head, pressing his weight through them while you both catch your breath. Hungry eyes trace you, and the wisps of the ends of his hair tickle your chest as his head tips to watch the space where you two are about to be connected.

A low grumbles comes from Ivar’s chest as your hand reaches down, spreading your lips for him to see you. The same hand reaches up, grabbing Ivar’s chin as you pull his mouth towards yours again.

“Are you waiting for something?” You tease him.

Settling his legs over you, Ivar pulls away, shifting his weight as his hand grabs his length, The other rungs through his hair, pushing it from his view before tapping himself against you. Meeting your teasing with his own, the head of his cock finds your bundle of nerves, pressing ever so slightly as he hears you gasp. Your eyes flutter shut, bunching the sheets at your sides as his cock glides through your wetness.

Ivar suddenly stops, a slow string of spit coming from his lips as it lands against your mouth. His fingers collect it, pressing them towards your clit before he takes them down his shaft.

Pushing your hips into him, Ivar responds by slowing his motions, biting his bottom lip as his cock sinks into you, bottoming out until he’s flush against you. A deep moan climbs from his chest while he savors you fluttering around him.

You reach at him, pulling him over you as his arms plant on each side of your head, moving before digging his fingers into your hair while his hips start up. Quickly they take force, slamming into you as the bed rocks against the walls. You hardly have a moment to grasp the sensation of how he feels inside of you, before he gets faster, moaning in your ear.

“Ivar,” You squeak. “Slow—” You grit out. “Slower,” You say and he stops, nuzzling against your head as his hips come to a halt. “Give a woman a chance to breath before you take away my ability to walk,” You mumble to him as you shift your body and Ivar only snickers from somewhere over you.

Pulling back, Ivar lets go of your hair, smoothing it out slightly as he seeks out your lips again, humming into the kiss as your hands dance along his back. His hips roll lazily, your wetness collecting between you two and you offer him a sweet moan.

“There are much better ways to take me if you want to go that fast,” You whisper to him. Ivar feels you push at him before his climbs back to let you move. Watching you crawl onto your stomach he pulls at your hips himself, positioning himself behind you while you nuzzle against the bed. His cock presses into you again, his chest coming over your back as the warmth radiates from him. Jutting the two of you up the bed, Ivar’s hips move as he wraps an arm around your waist, his free hand finding yours.

Ivar’s thrusts are met with you pushing against him, chasing his cock in the brief moments it’s away from you while you hear the moans coming from his mouth. With your thighs shaking under him, you can’t help but moan his name, egging him on.

As he chases his release, Ivar’s mind empties as he moves, your walls quivering around him with his arm attempting to pull you closer, even with no additional space. Through each grunt, each sweet sound you sing to him, Ivar’s muscles tense, the ache in his balls nearing an end before he pulls out of you suddenly. Moving away before he flips you in one quick display of his strength.

Ivar moves again with his orgasm taking over his body. You feel the string of seed against your skin, watching him before you. Abs quivers as he breathes quickly, the final drops dribble from his flushed head, throbbing as it slides down his shaft. Only then is it collected as his fist moves to grab himself, and tap again against your cunt, swirling his essence against your mound.

After a whisper of a moment, his fingers slide through your slit and press into you, curling them right against your sweet spot. Ivar leans over, lips hungrily against yours. As he feels your nails in his back, your teeth sink into his bottom lip while he pumps his fingers.

Your mouth opens to moan and Ivar pushes his forehead against yours.

“Give it to me, Goddess,” Ivar whispers, “Come for me,”

You can only whine in response, breathing deeply as Ivars fingers move, his eyes on yours and you can’t look away. His thumb comes against your clit, pressing in circles and you hum as the pleasure takes over your body. Your lashes flutter, a heat low in your belly as the coil tightens, as Ivar growls for you to open your eyes again.

“Look at me when you come,” Ivar tells you. Your eyes open as a blush covers your cheeks, the band finally snapping as you moan. Sinking your nails into his back before they move, grabbing his hair in an attempt to ground yourself as your orgasm rushes through your body. You grab his face again, pulling it back towards you to regain some control, as your mouth seeks his.

Ivar slows his fingers as his breathing matches yours, lips lazily tackling one another as a satisfied groan comes from him. Moving, Ivar settles back over you, placing his weight carefully to cover you as you latch around him. Your hands take their turns from tracing his spine, to scratching his head as the man deflates above you, nuzzling into your cheek and you can’t help but smile.

Moving again and putting his weight on his elbows, Ivar looks down at you, bumping your nose with his.

“Hi,” He says quietly.

“Hi, handsome,” You say back, a smile on your face.

“You don’t…you don’t even work in the morning,” Ivar finally realizes.

“I know,” You giggle and Ivar huffs, collapsing back over you.

Tags:

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#vikings au #vikings #modern vikings #ivar au #modern vikings au #ivar #modern ivar #vikings fiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #modern ivar x you #ivar x reader #modern ivar x reader #ivar smut #modern ivar smut

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paracosmoon · 2 years

Text

king harald finehair would've risked it all for megan thee stallion

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peaceisadirtyword · 1 year

Text

Pull the Trigger IX (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! A bit late, sorry! I just got home🥲 I’ll try to post the next chapter as soon as I can🫶🏼

Warnings: mild smut👀 mentions of past abuse, mentions of alcohol, anxiety...

Words: 4412

Read on AO3

Fic masterlist

Alfred had cancelled on you. Apparently, he had missed an important date with Elsewith and he had gotten a last minute reservation on a very expensive place to apologise. You understood, but couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment when you saw his text. Thora was out with Hvitserk again. Since they had formalised their relationship it was almost like they spent even more time together than before. She had insisted on staying with you, but you practically forced her to go, feeling too guilty for having ruined her big night some days ago.

Almost a week had passed, and you had hoped you could talk to Alfred about what Ivar had said to you. You hadn’t had the chance to do it earlier, as the last time you saw him you had spent hours crying because of Erik. You had never seen Alfred so angry at someone, and while it was comforting, you still were overthinking Ivar’s words.

But then again, he didn’t contact you anymore. He wasn’t in class that week, and he was nowhere to be found on campus. You had his number and could have easily texted him, but then again you didn’t know what to say.

Because you weren’t sure of what he had said.

He was at Valhalla. You knew it because Ingrid had texted you, telling you she had seen him inside when she had entered, and you had tried to convince yourself you didn’t care, but a part of you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You had gone through Ubbe’s posts on social media until you found him at the background of one of his videos. Sigurd had also posted things but as the brothers couldn’t stand each other you didn’t bother to look for Ivar in his videos. Thora had told you they’d head to Valhalla around midnight, so you kept glancing at the clock, knowing that Hvitserk was the one that would post the pictures of Ivar, given they were the closest ones.

You just wanted to see him, to see he was okay, because even if you had tried your best not to acknowledge it, you missed him. You would be forever mad for not remembering most part of that night, when you had slept in his bed and he had taken care of you. The simple thought made you feel something strange that was both worrying and comforting at the same time.

Taking a deep breath, you got up from the couch and entered the bathroom for a quick shower. The horrible movie you were watching was forgotten as you entered your room, immediately opening your wardrobe to try and find something to wear. After almost crying a few times, you decided on a black velvet dress. It was short and had cleavage, not quite what you’d usually wear for a night out, but Valhalla wasn’t a normal club and it was very far from your usual trusted bar, so you put on some thighs and your favourite tall boots that Thora had gifted you last Christmas because of how many times you’d ask her for hers.

After frowning at your own reflection for a good ten minutes before moving back to the bathroom to wash your face and put some makeup on. Half an hour later you were ready, picking up your phone, wallet and keys and quickly turned off the TV and the lights, leaving your flat before you could change your mind.

Calling an Uber was way more than your bank account could afford, so you took the bus and walked towards the club, hoping Ivar would still be there when you managed to get in. It was cold, and the slow queue didn’t help. You checked your phone a few times until you realised the battery was very low. Thora had messaged you, asking if everything was okay, you replied quickly, telling her you were fine and debating whether you should tell her you were at the club or not.

But just when you were going to do so, the doorman called you. The rest of the queue looked at you up and down, some of them with annoyance and even hatred, but you didn’t say a word as the doorman lifted the rope, letting you in.

Flashbacks of the first time you stepped into that club made you take a deep breath as you left your coat on the wardrobe next to the door and thanked the girl that took it with a tense smile. You didn't even know what you were doing there, you didn’t know what you would say to Ivar if you could talk to him. You made your way to the VIP zone, your heart racing when you saw Whitehair. Wherever he was, Ivar was never too far away.

Your eyes finally found him. He was standing, leaning on his crutch and with a drink on his other hand. But you stopped walking towards him when you saw who he was talking to.

It was a woman, a tall, beautiful woman with brown hair. You could only see her back, but your mouth dried when you saw her curves, hugged by a beautiful red dress. You were sure she was stunning, and Ivar was so close to her, talking to her…

You felt like throwing up, suddenly you were the idiot that had come all the way to Valhalla to talk to him after not hearing from him in days. Thinking he liked you.

Looking around, feeling the tears fill your eyes, you took a deep breath. Should you get a drink or just go home?.

When you looked back towards Ivar, you found his eyes. He looked surprised to see you there, and you could see his lips saying your name, but you turned around and left for the toilets, unable to face him at that moment. Then you heard him calling you a bit louder, but you were already entering the women’s toilet and ignored him. Great, now he knew you were there. That was even more humiliating.

There were two girls inside the bathroom, talking cheerfully as they retouched their makeup, who looked at you as soon as you barged in, clearing your throat. They looked at you up and down, frowning, but you didn’t even look at them, running your hand through your hair and taking another deep breath.

Your relief didn’t last, as someone else entered the bathroom and startled the girls.

“You” Ivar pointed at them “Out”

They didn’t say a word. Instead, they grabbed their things and left quickly, barely glancing at you as they closed the door behind them.

“This is the girls’ bathroom” you said, looking anywhere but at him.

“I don’t care, toilets don’t have a gender” he replied, annoyed.

“Someone could enter…”

“Whitehair is outside” he interrupted you, shrugging “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t even know” you muttered, turning back to the mirror to try and fix your makeup “I guess I wanted to talk to you”

“Did anything happen?” he frowned in confusion “Did Erik…?”

“No, don’t say his name” you sighed “No, not everything is about him, I just wanted to talk to you because you said things the last time I saw you that I… Have been thinking about it, but I don’t know what to think and it’s killing me, but then I come here and I see you with someone else and I realise I’m an idiot and you probably didn’t mean what I thought you meant and now I really want to be alone…”

“Wait, wait, slow down” he frowned, interrupting you “Someone else?”

“Yes, the girl you were talking to, I just… I misunderstood what you told me the other day, it’s my fault, now if you excuse me…”

“Wait, let me talk” he grabbed your arm as soon as you tried to walk towards the door “That girl you saw me talk to is my sister”

You felt as if someone just threw a bucket with ice and water all over you.

“Your… Sister?”

“Yes, well, my half sister, Gyda” he shrugged “She’s my dad’s daughter but her mother is Lagertha, she’s Björn’s sister, she lives in Hedeby with her mother but she came to Kattegat to visit us”

“I…” you groaned again, closing your eyes. If you thought nothing could be more humiliating than thinking Ivar was with someone else when you came to see him, you were wrong “Sorry, I… Never saw your sister before”

“Were you jealous?”

Flustered, you looked away again. Ivar had a smirk on his lips and his cocky expression only made you want to hit him really hard.

“No” you scoffed “I’m just… I didn’t want to interrupt you”

“Well, you did interrupt me with your dramatic escape and making me chase you” he chuckled “I’m not complaining, though”

Rolling your eyes, you finally looked at him, realising you couldn’t escape now and had to tell him exactly what you had come to tell him.

“The other day…” you sighed “You said you cared about me”

He hummed, nodding his head and almost pouting. His eyes were widened and you had to force yourself to stop looking into them.

“I’m not sure I understand what you meant by that”

Ivar sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“You are dense sometimes, did you know that?”

You gasped, offended.

“And you are rude” you replied, scoffing.

“I was going to kiss you” he ignored you “And you still don't understand what I meant?”

You were left speechless. It was true that you had thought about it, but there was a part of you that insisted that it couldn’t be true. That you weren’t the kind of girl Ivar Lothbrok would like.

“I didn’t know if I had imagined it or not, I just…”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted you again, and you blinked a couple of times “Now, so you stop talking”

“Okay, you are very rude, and if this is your way of flirting let me tell you it won’t…”

You didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Ivar leant in to press his lips against yours. You gasped in surprise, but closed your eyes as soon as he deepened the kiss, his free hand landed on your waist, and you let yourself relax between his body and the sink behind you. His lips were warm, and tasted a bit like alcohol and cigarettes, but they were sweet and softer than you had imagined. Because you had imagined it. Even though no one of your daydreams was nearly as good as the actual kiss. You almost felt like you had never been kissed before, and his scent felt almost intoxicating when you breathed into it.

Ivar hummed against your lips, making you sigh at the sound. You weren’t sure of when exactly you started to like Ivar that much but you felt unable to kiss anyone else after that kiss, especially when he broke it, moving away just a few centimetres just to chuckle and give you a small peck before you could even open your eyes.

His blue eyes were the first thing you saw when you finally opened yours, and you could feel the heat underneath your skin and hear your accelerated heartbeat. You wondered, embarrassed, if he could also notice.

“Sorry, I just have wanted to do that for a long time” he said, tilting his head with his smirk back on his lips. You cleared your throat.

“That was also very rude of you”

“It was also very rude of you to interrupt my conversation with my sister” he shrugged “We’re even”

“I didn’t interrupt it, I…”

“You did, by running away after getting my attention, jealous” he leant in again to whisper against your ear. You didn’t know if he put that with many other girls, but it was definitely working because you almost moaned “And wearing this”

His free hand, which he had leant on the sink to support his weight, tugged at your dress, making you look down.

“I had to wear it because otherwise I wouldn’t have entered your elitist, corrupted club”

He laughed then, shaking his head.

“The doorman knows who you are, you would get in even if you were wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants”

“Well, I decided not to risk it” you shrugged, trying not to overthink his words -because if you did you would probably start hyperventilating.

Ivar smiled again. Obviously he had drunk, being way more relaxed than you had ever seen him. Was that the real Ivar?

“I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me” you bit your lip “I thought you hated me”

“I beat up a guy that drugged you, Y/N”

“Yes, but that’s just your mob boss complex”

“I’m going to ignore that”

“But you called me a bitch” you crossed your arms, forcing him to move slightly backwards “And you said my life was worthless”

Ivar sighed, nodding and closing his eyes.

“You really got on my last nerve, but you’re lucky, others ended up dead for less”

You rolled your eyes, an amused smile on your lips.

“Stop doing that, I don’t believe you, you act like you’re all dangerous, cruel and heartless but there you were taking care of me when I couldn’t even walk, you’re just a normal guy”

Ivar shrugged, but he didn’t look bothered by your comment. In some way, you could see why so many people were afraid of him, he could be intimidating. But he had just asked for permission to kiss you and then had interrupted you with a kiss… He couldn’t be that bad.

“That’s the point” he licked his lips, shrugging again “I’m not meant to be dangerous to you”

“I’m serious”

“About what?”

“You act like that but then you come to my house to bring me my clothes and see if I’m okay, and then you start yelling and almost kiss me but then don’t talk to me for days…”

“Isn’t it obvious, Y/N?”

You knew it was obvious, but at the same time it was too obvious to be real. Everything seemed more of a fantasy you had built inside your head in which Ivar Lothbrok liked you even before you talked to each other for the first time. And for some reason that thought didn’t bother you, quite the contrary, it made you fluster and smile like an idiot.

“No, I want you to say it” you took a deep breath “Loud and clear, no indirects”

Ivar looked taken aback, almost like no one had ever asked him to talk about his feelings before. Looking around, he stepped back, suddenly nervous. He felt his mouth drying and a strange feeling in his stomach. He was nervous. Him, who had killed people in cold blood, who dealt with terrifying people that doubled his age and experience, who had had guns pointed at him and his brothers and that was used to deal with people that wanted him dead was a nervous wreck in front of a girl that asked him to talk about his feelings for her.

Well, it wasn’t just a girl, it was you.

Ivar still remembered the first time he had seen you. Sitting next to Alfred, you were frowning down at your notes and comparing them with his while he laughed. Then he had seen you many times around campus, you were all the time with Thora or Alfred, but whenever you were alone he never dared to approach you. Until one day Hvitserk saw him looking at you, and Ivar had made him look at your friend. She’s cute, Hvitserk had said, but his smirk had told him he had liked her.

And then he only had to wait. Ivar hoped you’d never heard about the fifty kroner he gave to that girl that sat next to him to go up and seat next to Alfred. Just to have you close, as he knew it was the only time you’d be close to him.

He was glad to see he had been wrong for the first time in his life.

“I…” he cleared his throat, his heart was beating so hard against his chest that he was afraid of you hearing it, and also of having a heart attack “I care for you”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Is that all I’m getting? After you barging into my house to yell how you tricked your brother into dating my best friend because you couldn’t talk to me”

Ivar couldn’t believe you had memorised his exact words.

“I didn’t barge, you invited me in”

“That’s not the point”

Ivar took a deep breath, and when his blue eyes looked right into yours again you almost groaned out loud.

“I like you, Y/N” he said. It was the first time you saw him being somewhat vulnerable. His cheeks were reddened, he kept biting his lower lip softly, looking everywhere but at you, his head down. Almost like a teenager waiting for a scolding.

You couldn’t help your lips curving softly with a smile. You also felt flustered. Hell, your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear anything over it. Ivar gulped, suddenly watching you carefully. Please, don’t laugh, don’t make fun of me.

He didn’t like to feel vulnerable or open, he didn’t want anyone knowing he liked you, not even you, because it was the only effective weapon that could really hurt him.

“So you’re not heartless after all”

It was a mere whisper, but he heard you perfectly fine, even if he didn’t reply. What was he supposed to say? That you couldn’t tell anyone? That it was fine if you didn’t feel the same?. He skipped all of that during his teenage years and had no idea of how he was supposed to react.

But he didn’t need to. Suddenly you approached him, making him freeze and grab his crutch tighter than ever. He’d swear he heard it crack, but he didn’t really care because you grabbed his neck and pulled him down as you got on your tiptoes, kissing him.

It was almost like your warm lips melted him. Literally. Ivar couldn’t recall a moment in which he had felt so hot. He leant against the closest wall he had, letting the crutch fall to the floor just to touch you with both hands. You glanced at the thrown crutch quickly, but his lips against your jaw and travelling down your neck distracted you. He was intoxicating, warm, his scent made you dizzy and the way he was kissing you… His lips captured your upper lip, and he kissed you with urgency, passion and need, almost like he’d die if he stopped.

You weren’t complaining, though. His hands had found their way to your ass, but they kept touching you everywhere, leaving a warm, tickly path behind. You jumped and gasped when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your legs, and Ivar seemed to find that amusing. His hand was warm when he finally touched your thigh, and you felt a familiar wave travel down your lower belly and sex. You only broke the kiss to catch air for a couple of seconds before kissing him again. This time your hands travelled down his neck and shoulders, letting yourself touch his chest, hard and muscular from carrying his own weight for his whole life. Just when your hand reached his belt and his was already under your dress getting closer and closer, someone knocked on the door, startling you.

Then you realised you were about to have sex with Ivar Lothbrok in a public bathroom. Your last week self would have been very scandalised.

Stepping away, you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. Your lips were reddened and swollen and you were thankful for not having worn lipstick. Your eyes were teary and your makeup was a bit ruined, but you only smudged it a bit with your fingers and hoped everyone would be too drunk and it would be too dark to notice.

Ivar reached for his crutch, raising his voice to let Whitehair know he was fine. You wondered whether you should help and reach his crutch for him, but he managed just fine, knowing exactly which movements he needed to do. When he was standing again, he looked at you. His expression was softer. You couldn’t remember the expression he had when he had taken care of you, but you liked to think it was the same one.

“Ubbe is probably freaking out because I left” he shrugged “Do you want a drink?”

“I… Think I should go home” you cleared your throat “It’s late”

Ivar raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you home later”

You didn’t even try to argue, because you knew you’d stay. For some reason, you wanted to spend a bit more time with that new Ivar you were discovering. The one that didn’t act like a pretentious asshole.

His soft expression disappeared as soon as he opened the door. Whitehair looked at him and then at you, frowning and clenching his jaw. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him, making Ivar clear his throat and grab your arm quickly. The people queuing at the door didn’t say anything, but looked at you up and down and you instantly knew all of Kattegat would know you had been locked in a toilet with Ivar Lothbrok by morning.

You did smirk at Whitehair when you finally stepped in the VIP zone as he stayed at the entrance with a frown in his already harsh face. You could feel some people staring and just when you were thinking about texting both Thora and Ingrid to let them know you were there, someone practically tackled you, making you yelp and almost fall to the floor. Thora squealed in excitement and you could tell she had already had a few drinks when she looked at you, her cheeks reddened and a stupidly wide smile on her lips.

“You’re here!” she jumped next to you. Ivar glared at her, rolling his eyes, but Hvitserk asked him something and his attention diverted soon enough “Where were you? Ubbe told us you were here but that you disappeared suddenly… I was worried! Do you want a drink? Ingrid is here too!”

“Wow” you chuckled, grabbing her shoulders to keep her in place “Sorry, I had to go to the toilet… I found him on my way back and he told me you were here”

“Him being Ivar” she giggled, almost like it was a joke you didn’t get “Okay, a drink?”

You nodded, if you had to deal with the entire Lothbrok clan and drunk Thora you might as well get even.

You didn’t get a second to breathe, as soon as Thora left to grab you a drink, someone else approached.

She was even more stunning up close. Gyda had a beautiful, long hair that seemed to be brown but was darkened by the lowlights of the club. She wore a beautiful and probably very expensive red dress that you’d swear you had seen on some runway on YouTube. When the lights illuminated her face you could distinguish greenish eyes, more similar to Hvitserk than to Ivar’s, but you couldn’t tell the exact colour.

She shot you a big smile. She was older, older than you and Ivar, maybe in her thirties already, but she could have been twenty-five and you wouldn’t have been surprised. You only realised you were staring with your mouth agape until she spoke.

“Hello, you must be Y/N” she grabbed your hand enthusiastically “I’m Gyda, I’m Ivar’s sister… Half-sister” she chuckled “It’s great to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you these days! Mostly from the boys teasing Ivar, but they were only good things, don’t worry”

You wondered what good things the Lothbrok brothers had to say about you, but decided to ignore it and smiled back at her shyly.

“Hi” you nodded “Yes, I’m Y/N, it’s great to meet you too”

“Wow, you’re really pretty” she looked almost excited, her eyes scanning you up and down, then she giggled “Ivar already said it, but I don’t trust his taste very often so I’m surprised, but you’re beautiful, I love your dress!”

“Why, thank you” you chuckled nervously, feeling mortified as her smile widened even more.

“Hvitserk told me you’re giving my littlest brother a hard time… Whatever you’re doing, he probably deserves it so you have my full support!”

“Okay, Gyda, that’s enough, thank you so much” an annoyed Ivar appeared beside you, glaring at his sister. She winked at you, amused, before turning around and leaving. You turned to Ivar with a frown.

“What are you telling your family about me?” you narrowed your eyes, Ivar rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Only your terrible taste in men and your inability to pay attention in class”

You scoffed, but your lips curved in a smile.

“Someone is calling you” he pointed at the bar, where Thora tried to grab your attention to point at the drink on her hand. Hvitserk looked more in love than ever next to her.

“I better go before she drinks it” you grimaced.

“Okay”

A moment of silence. Ivar looked at you with his soft expression that had disappeared as soon as you had left the toilet, but before you could act on your instincts and kiss him again, he turned around, going back to the couch where Ubbe was sitting talking to some people you didn’t know.

“Ivar” you reached to grab his hand before he could get too far, and the both of you froze almost instantly, realising what you had done. When he turned to look at you he had a surprised look on his face, which you were sure mirrored your own “Um… Thank you”

You didn’t specify why but he already knew. He nodded slowly as you let his hand go, hurrying to the bar where Thora waited for you. Ivar let himself fall on the couch next to his brother, looking around to make sure no one had seen that. Then he looked down, hoping the darkness would hide the stupid smile he had on his face.

Because it had been the first time you had called him by his name.

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Tags: @istorkyou @barnes-lothbrok @naaladareia @youbloodymadgenius @southernbe @yummycastiel @nothingtolosebutweight @noway4u @cdauni @heavenly1927 @ivarhoegh @biancathecool @helleiaiwritting @marvelsangels @ironynoticony @kenyadakblalock @mymindfuckery @alexa4040 @tessakate @ivarlover @vannabanana1995 @darksoulgemx @mynameisiliana

I hope I didn’t forget anyone💔 thank you so much for reading🫶🏼

Ps. I will try and reply to all the comments this time!

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #modern ivar #vikings #vikings imagine #modern vikings #pull the trigger

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istorkyou · 1 year

Text

The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader

Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+

Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.

Word Count - 1584

Note - This is the second fic I ever wrote and I’m not sure why I never posted it. I think I started writing The Arrangement not long after and kind of fell out of love with this one. Still, it’s been festering in my completed docs for well over a year so I figure I might as well post it 😬 It’s fluffy, and maybe a little cheesy (and by a little I mean a lot!) so if that’s your bag I hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard - The beautiful moodboard is made the magical, amazing @serasvictoria. Thank you so much xxxx

This was beta read by my aussie wife who has left Tumblr. All love, all the time Lou x

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes@noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73 @meandmycherrytree @mymindfuckery

Masterpost

CHAPTER 15

Nine months of dating Ivar. Nine months of happiness. Nine months of amazing sex. Nine month of love.

The interest in your relationship publicly has definitely reduced, mostly because the pair of you don’t go anywhere the photographers would be. Ivar has adapted to your lifestyle easily and fits into your world perfectly. You still struggle sometimes fitting into his world, but you are getting better at the glitzy parties and rubbing shoulders with the extreme wealth in your city. You much prefer it when you guys do normal things together though.

You have become friends with his brothers, they were easily won over, especially Hvitserk. He and Iris have been on a few dates and he seems besotted with her. She likes him a lot but is being very ‘Iris’ about the whole thing and is playing it cool.

Ubbe is dating someone new and, aside from cracking a couple of jokes in the beginning, leading Ivar to threaten to murder him, in a seriously scary tone, your ‘thing’ is long forgotten.

Since the ball you haven’t seen too much of Aslaug, she has been away, staying in her house in Iceland for months.

She calls you the week she gets home and she comes to visit your shop.

You bond over your mutual love of fashion. She spends a long time looking through all the clothes you stock and buys some dresses and some jewellery.

“You have a really good eye, Y/N. A wonderfully eclectic mix of fashion in stock. Have you thought about expanding? Opening more boutiques across the city?” She asks curiously.

“I have, I am hoping to by the end of next summer, I just need to make sure the business plan is foolproof, find a space, blah blah! It will be a lot of work.”

“I can help, I am always looking to invest in small local businesses…” she trails off and raises her eyebrows.

“Aslaug, without wanting to sound ungrateful, because I really am grateful for the offer, I’ve got my heart set on doing it all by myself.” You give a determined look.

“Although, if you know anyone in real estate that can give me a heads up of any suitable spaces becoming available I will gladly take that help,” you give her a cheeky smile.

“It just so happens I do know some people who could help with that. I will get in touch with them,” she gives you a wink.

“Also, the jeweller who made the bracelet and necklace you bought could maybe use some help, she’s amazing but hasn’t managed to get herself a proper workshop. If you were interested? Her name is Sadie.” You hand Aslaug one of Sadies cards which she slips into her purse.

“You are a very determined young woman, Y/N. I can see why Ivar loves you so much. What time do you lock up the shop? We should go and get cocktails.”

“Yes! I bloody love a good cocktail, come back at 4pm?”

You think you might have finally cracked the cool exterior, Ivar will be so pleased and your heart swells.

—————

You wake up early on Christmas morning and throw on an oversized hoody, before Ivar is stirring and you grab the heavy present on the kitchen counter and head to the elevator.

It opens on the ground floor and you head in over to the reception desk.

“Preston, Happy Christmas!” You shout and laugh as he jumps out of his skin. You hand him over the present.

“What’s this?” He looks in disbelief.

“A pressie, open it!” You are so excited.

He opens the present to see a state of the art coffee machine and his face lights up.

“What? Why? You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.” His face is tinged with annoyance.

“Oh shush, you always look knackered, we thought you could use it,” you retort.

“Wow, thanks so much, I don’t know what to say.“ He holds his hands up.

“Just a gesture for putting up with Ivar’s rude ass for all these years! Are you going home to your family soon?”

“He’s not so rude anymore.” He tells you with a wink “I finish in 30 minutes,” he says happily. “Happy Christmas, Y/N, thank you.”

“Happy Christmas, have a great day. Hope the twins are happy with their bikes.” You give him a quick hug then head towards the elevator.

When it dings and the door opens Ivar is standing, with his arm above his head looking at the floor and his eyes travel up you until reaching your face and creasing with laughter.

“Will that never get old?!” You ask him in fake annoyance, he knows you find it adorable.

“Happy Christmas, baby! Did Preston like his present?” He asks, pulling you in for a big kiss.

“Yep, he was very happy,” you bury your face in his neck.

“Do you want your present?” Ivar asks with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Is it an orgasm?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Later,” he laughs out, “come on, it’s in the bedroom.”

“This is getting more interesting..” he looks back with a withering look.

“Get your mind out of my pants, filthy girl,” he wags a finger at you.

“Can I give you my present first? I’m so excited!” He laughs at you and nods.

You run to your side of the bed and pull out an envelope, skipping to him to hand it over. He opens the envelope and reads the Christmas card inside, smiling. He opens the card and two pieces of paper fall out. He picks them up with a furrowed brow, reading the words on them.

“Wha..what is this? Japan? You bought us tickets to travel to Japan?!” Pure disbelief on his face. He keeps looking back at the tickets and to you, clearly having trouble processing the information in front of him.

“What the fuck? This is too much, Y/N! We said small gifts.” His face is shocked.

“Meh, you are worth it. Are you ok? Do you want to go? I thought we could go and try some authentic sushi? Remember when I first came here?” You are searching his face for any sign of happiness.

“Y/N, this is too much. You can’t afford this.” His face still shows nothing but shock.

“I can baby, I wouldn’t have bought them if I couldn’t afford it, you know that. The shop has been doing amazing. Do you not want to go?” Your voice is small and dejected.

“Are you kidding me? It’s my number one place I want to visit! Oh my god I’m so excited, I'm just in shock, baby. Thank you! Thank you so much. I’ve never had a gift like this before.” He pulls you in for a crushing hug, kissing you all over your face and neck until you are swatting him away.

“Do you want to open your gift?” He asks excitedly.

He walks to his drawers and pulls out a big black box with a giant gold ribbon tied in bow. He hands it to you and sits close to you, watching your face intently as you undo the bow. You lift the lid on the black box and pull out a red box that you recognise. It’s one of Sadies.

You look at him and his face is so earnest you give him a kiss.

“Open it,” he urges you.

You open the box and inside is the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. It has three platinum chain mail chains twisted round each other all joined together with a diamond on each clasp. It has a round platinum pendant on it, around the edge there is an engraving and in the middle is a beautiful, green stone.

“Ivar……” you look up at him, your eyes misting up.

“I need to explain it!” He is like an excited puppy.

“I designed it, with a little help from Sadie. It’s platinum and diamonds on the clasps..” the look on his face is one of pure amusement, you can’t help but laugh at him despite wanting to act offended, a clear call back to the unwanted bracelet he gave you.

“The circle of the pendant represents my never ending love for you,” his face changes from amusement to seriousness.

“The engraving is the date I first laid eyes on you.” You bring it closer to your face to read it.

“The date of the merger party.” You tell him, with a big soppy smile on your face.

“And the green sapphire in the middle is the exact colour of the blazer you were wearing when we met. I knew from that very moment you were the one for me. Forever and always.”

You don't know what to say, your eyes well up with tears.

“Do you like it, Y/N?” He asks nervously.

“It’s the most beautiful, thoughtful present. I love it.” You wipe your tears of happiness and kiss him. “You can't tell me off for the gift I got you, this must have cost a fortune, Ivar,” he just shrugs and grins.

“I left a space on it for another engraving. I am going to get it engraved with the date I ask you to be my wife.” his voice is smaller than before and his face is red with a blush. You gasp at his words and pull him close for a cuddle.

“Just for future reference, I will say yes.

THE END - thanks for reading :)

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barnes-lothbrok · 1 year

Text

Modern Ivar

I've fallen down the Modern Ivar rabbit hole again. Please use this to share you recommendations and Modern Ivar writers!

People I can think of right now with amazing stories I have already had the pleasure of reading are:

@youbloodymadgenius

@istorkyou

@jadelynlace

@whenimaunicorn

Please don't take offence if I haven't shared your blog. The ones I have, are ones that I have read some of their work and can think of them right at this very moment.

The whole reason I have made this, to find Modern Ivar lovers and feed my little obsessed demons.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #vikings #modern ivar #vikings modern au

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ivarlover · 1 year

Text

UNDENIABLE PART 2 (Sequel to UNLEASHED)

Alex + Modern Ivar

Mentions of Female Reader + Hvitserk

This was supposed to be just a one-shot but the story has come alive for me and the need to write more can't be ignored. At this point, I have no idea how many chapters this will end up consiating of. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! 🔥

Summary: During a hot weekend with your classmate, Alex, and his best friend, Ivar, the two of them had their own fun together. And now, it had turned into what looked like a confusing situation in the light of day. What did it all mean to them now? What would happen with their friendship? Can they move forward as friends or has all been lost? Is friends to lovers even a possibility at this point?

Inspired by a naughty conversation with a friend of mine. 😍 (You know who you are).

Warnings: This chapter: Unfortunately, this chapter does have more heartache, but if you're still following, hang in there. There's still more to come and I promise, you won't be sad.

The sequel in general: Totally NSFW, Unprotected anal sex (male receiving), oral, male to male contact and more, heartbreak, and a bad case of the feels, and smut, with me, there is ALWAYS smut 🤣

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ON OR OFF OF THE TAG LIST!*

Words: I don't know; there are many, many words 🤣

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The next few days were dark and lonely for Alex. Even with you by his side, he still felt empty and alone. He felt completely lost. Although he couldn't stop thinking about Ivar, he was determined to continue on. He had work and school to attend to, a big weekend event to get ready for, and didn't have time to dwell on things that almost happened, things that could have been. He tried to stay busy. It was hard.

As Thursday rolled around, you were there with Alex in the bar, putting the the final touches on the decorations for Saturday. To prevent the need to spend early Saturday morning working to get everything ready for the night, Alex had decided to close the bar Friday night. "Well, apparently, I have nobody to answer to so we'll get everything finished tonight and we won't have come at all tomorrow and we won't have to worry about it getting destroyed by tomorrow night's crowd," Alex told you. You didn't miss the pain in his voice but chose not to address it. You knew he'd talk to you if he needed to.

Still, your heart broke for him. You were truly lost as to what happened with Ivar. He'd completely ghosted Alex and you'd stopped trying to figure out why and had decided to just be there for your friend. Saturday would be here before you knew it and you wanted to offer all the help you could provide to Alex so it would be one less thing he'd have to stress about.

This after party for the couple's marriage was going to be big for business and you'd set out to make it as close to perfect as possible.

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"I can't believe this is really happening! We will get so much exposure tomorrow night. I have all the extra helpers in place and ready to work, too. Can you think of anything I've missed, Y/N?" Alex sat in the floor across from you as the two of you ate take out at his coffee table. "It's kind of nice not to be there on a Friday night. How is your food? Do you need anything else to drink?" He looked at your curious face, "Oh, I'm sorry, Y/N," he laughed. "I know I'm all over the place. I'm just excited and I've got a million things going through my mind all at once."

You laughed, "It's ok but maybe focus on one thing at a time. You're going to wear yourself out before tomorrow even gets here." You guys talked for what seemed like forever and you enjoyed seeing him in better spirits. These last two weeks had been rough.

Alex stood up, taking your plates. "Wait. I'll help," you told him, scrambling to get up, too.

"No, you find us a movie or something to watch. I'll take everything to the kitchen. Don't worry about it. Want a glass of wine?"

"Sure," and you got up on the sofa and turned the television on. As you began flipping through the channels, you thought you heard something outside. You muted the TV and listened and yes, there was someone at the door. Why hadn't they rang the doorbell? You called out to Alex but it sounded like he must have went to the bathroom.

Annoyed that whoever it was still hadn't knocked or anything, you got up and went to the door. Placing both hands, palms down, on the door, you stood in front of it and tiptoed to see through the peephole. "Holy fucking shit!" you softly gasped.

"Hey, I didn't know if you wanted red or white wine, so I just brought the glasses and both bottles. We can't be letting perfectly good wine go to waste, now can we?" Alex walked in from the other side of the room behind you and hadn't looked up to you yet. "So? Which will it be, Y/N?"

As Alex looked up at you, to his surprise, he saw you standing at the open door. There stood Ivar in the doorway looking at Alex like a lost puppy. "Can, umm," he swallowed loudly, "Can I come in?" Ivar asked. Completely shocked, Alex dropped both wine glasses, them shattering to the floor.

You tried not to laugh. "Umm, I'll be right back. I need to umm, make a phone call," you said as you left Ivar standing in the door, deciding to give them some time to talk. Alex just knodded at you, still completely dumbfounded.

Uncertain of himself, Ivar said, "I'm sorry to interrupt you guys. I, umm, I can come back." He took a step back, and Alex almost lunged at him but caught himself.

"No! I, umm, I mean, umm... Yes, Ivar, please come in."

Ivar's heart stopped. He'd actually expected Alex to let him leave. He came in and closed the door behind himself and stood there by it. "I'd offer you a drink, but umm, it seems I've just broken these two glasses. I'm not sure I trust myself with two more," Alex nervously laughed, bending down to pick up the pieces.

"Here, let me help you with that," Ivar rushed over to Alex and bent down to help him.

Their hands brushed up against eachother's and they both froze. Alex looked up at Ivar and Ivar stood back up. "What are we doing here, Ivar? I need some answers," Alex said as he stood up, too, just leaving the broken glass in the floor.

"Why, umm, why is the bar closed? I went to find you there," Ivar nervously asked.

"Remember that couple who are getting married and wanted a venue for their after party?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, they chose us. Their after party is tomorrow night, and rather than spend all day there tomorrow, preparing, decorating, and cleaning, we decided to just close it tonight," Alex explained to Ivar.

"We?" Ivar wasn't sure who Alex meant, and his heart kind of stopped again.

"Well, Y/N and I. She's been helping me out since, umm, well, since you have been missing in action." Alex braced himself for Ivar's reaction, not knowing, exactly, what it may be.

Ivar felt anger run through his veins. He hadn't came all the way over to Alex's to be made fun of. Maybe it had been a mistake to come over after all. His immediate reaction was to tell Alex to fuck off and to walk back out the door. That was until he looked into Alex's eyes and saw the pain. In fact, he could tell Alex was struggling to hold back his emotions. He wasn't sure if he was about to cry or scream but seeing the stress across his face completely calmed Ivar. The last thing he wanted to do was make this any worse.

Surprisingly, to Alex and Ivar both, Ivar grabbed Alex's hands in his, "Alex, umm, can we talk about that? Umm, I mean, can we talk about umm, us?"

Alex wasn't sure what to say. Hadn't he tried this already? "Umm, Ivar, that's well, that's what I've tried to do, and you are the one who just completely shut me out. Is there even an us to discuss? I'm not usually the type that likes to be involved after a certain point, Ivar, and honestly, I'm not so sure how much more of this I can take." He pulled his hands out of Ivar's and ran them through his own hair. "I mean, honestly, I'm just confused."

Feeling worried, Ivar motioned towards the sofa. "Can we sit?"

Alex walked over to it and sat down, not knowing what to expect. "Hear me out, Alex. This is a lot." Ivar sat down beside him and turned facing him. "You remember my brother, Hvitserk?"

Alex was confused. "Hvitserk? Yes, of course I remember him."

"Well, Alex, he and my mom have been at my place for the last two weeks. Hvitserk has an alcohol and drug problem. He has for a while, but he's been able to stay away from it. Apparently, some guys took advantage of his problem and got him drinking and convinced him to do a line of coke with them. He showed up at mom's completely out of it, saying he wanted me. She was going to admit him into rehab, but he said he'd kill himself if she did. He only wanted me. She called me and they've been at my place since that Monday after our," Ivar looked up at Alex, nervously, "Well, after our weekend."

Shocked to his core, Alex wasn't sure what to say, so he just said the first thing that came to mind. "So you avoided me because you were what? Embarrassed? Ashamed?" Alex felt his stomach knot up, and his heart completely stop.

"No! No, Alex. It has taken everything out of me to keep my brother in my house and not let him leave for drugs or alcohol. Not to mention keeping an eye on him to be sure he doesn't try to do something stupid to himself. He's been going through the worst withdrawals. I've had to be there with him, by his side, day and night. I've hardly slept at all. He's fought me every step of the way, but I couldn't leave him, and I definitely couldn't bring him with me to my work at the bar."

Alex interrupted him, "Ok. I get it, but no phone calls or text messages, Ivar? Something to clue me in on what was going on? Something to let me know that I wasn't just, umm, damn! Just another fuck for you, meaningless. Or fuck, was I?" Alex immediately felt embarrassed at his words. He dropped his head to his hands. He couldn't bear to look at Ivar. He wasn't sure he could handle Ivar's answer.

Ivar's heart sank. He'd been so wrapped up in everything going on in his world that he honestly hadn't stopped to think how Alex may have taken everything, how he might be feeling. He felt so guilty and selfish.

He gently grabbed Alex's hand and pulled it away from his face. Slowly, Alex looked up at him, eyes wet. Ivar wiped a tear off of his cheek. "No, God no, Alex. It wasn't meaningless.

Not by far. I meant everything I said to you that night." He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. This was hard, harder than he'd expected.

His heart rate sped up, and he continued, "Umm, but it, umm, I didn't really have time to even process everything before all of this with Hvitserk was dropped in my lap. My mom called me every single time I left the house without them. She was so scared to be left alone with him. And I've told you how suffocating my mom can be and how she wants to control me. I was already exhausted, and I wasn't able to handle all the questions I knew she'd have for me. Especially when I, myself, still didn't know the answers yet. I wanted to call you. I think I was, umm, well, I guess I kind of freaked out. And then, when you didn't call me either, I thought maybe you regretted it. And umm, I was. Fuck. I was scared, Alex. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm truly sorry." He placed his hand on Alex's cheek and held it there.

Alex reached up and placed his hand over Ivar's. "I..I did call you, Ivar, and I was heartbroken when I heard some woman in the background calling you sweetheart." Alex choked on his words and held his breath to prevent himself from doing the ugly cry.

"Alex, fuck, that was my mom!" Ivar gasped, guilt sweeping all over him again.

Alex half-heartedly smiled and said, "Well, I know that. Now." For some reason, he still couldn't feel relieved yet. Yes, he was happy that he'd misunderstood everything but it didn't change how deeply hurt he had been because of it. "But last weekend? What happened? You seemed so, I don't know, so cold, distant. That's why I left. It hurt, Ivar."

Ivar explained that he'd come to talk then but saw him with you and felt jealous. "I, umm, I thought maybe you belonged with her, Alex, and maybe me being there was preventing you from true happiness with her. I, umm, I didn't want.. umm, to get in the way." He dropped his head.

How had both of them read everything so wrong? Was this because of the sensitive subject and how new and unexpected everything was to them both? Alex sat quietly, trying to wrap his head around everything. He was still a bit too nervous about everything but he had to admit how nice it was to have Ivar sitting here on his sofa with him.

Ivar interrupted Alex's train of thought, "Alex, I'm truly, truly sorry. I promise, I never wanted to hurt you or for you to feel used." He grabbed both of Alex's hands and held them in his. "Alex, can we..."

At that very moment, Alex's front door swung open. There stood Hvitserk in the doorway. He quickly scanned the room before entering. "Well, long time, no see, mother fucker!" Hvitserk said, walking toward the two of them on the sofa.

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Ivar practically yanked his hands away from Alex and straightened his body. Alex was kind of taken back by Ivar's sudden stiffness. Before he could say or do anything, Hvitserk stepped closer and said, "Humm, what kind of lover's quarrel have I just interrupted?" He leaned back, laughing, and said, "I'm just kidding, guys. Fuck! Chill!" He looked at the two of them closer, "Oh shit! I'm right, ain't I? Fuck, man! Shit, forget it. Stand up and give your big brother a hug, Alex. What's it been? Two? Three years?"

Alex stood and hugged Hvitsert. "It's, yes, it's been a while," Alex tried not to sound as nervous as he actually was.

"So," Hvitserk began, "What you got to eat, man? This mother fucker over here has had me in the car waiting on him so we can go for some food."

Alex laughed nervously as Ivar stared at Hvitserk like he had horns growing from his head. Hvitserk looked at Ivar, still sitting on the sofa. "What, man? Not my fault you're in trouble with your dude." He looked over to Alex. "What did he do? Need me to kick his ass for you?"

Alex gulped. He was completely shocked that Hvitserk had picked up on anything. He was upset that Hvitserk had interrupted such a tender moment but that was definitely Hvitserk for you. "Umm, I think there's some leftover pizza in the fridge. Some things never change, huh? Always hungry. Come with me."

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You had heard all the noise and stepped quietly out of the room to see what was going on. You recognized the panicked look across Alex's face immediately when your eyes met his, so you walked straight to them.

Hvitserk, being the guy he was, looked straight at you and said, "Umm, hungry? Yeah, but I think I'll have my dessert first. Hi, I'm Hvitserk. And who might you be?"

Ivar had came into the kitchen with you guys. "I'm sorry. Hvitserk, this is our friend, Y/N. Now, please leave her alone."

Hvitserk took a step back and looked around at the three of you and then back to Ivar. "Holy shit, man! Are you fucking them both?! Where the fuck do I sign up for this shit?" You dropped your head, blushing even more with embarrassment but you still smiled. "Fuck! What else have I missed since I've been gone? My fucking little brother got some game!"

Ivar smacked Hvitserk upside his head and put his arm around him and turned him toward the door, "See why my fucking brother doesn't need to drink? This is him sober!" He took a step with him, "I'm sorry, guys. We should go now."

"Wait," you stepped toward them, "Umm, he's not a bother. I can get his pizza, umm, so you and Alex can finish your, umm, conversation?" You couldn't help it. Obviously, the Lothbroks had damn good genes. Hvitserk was taller and a little thinner than Ivar but still muscular and gorgeous with his long hair and pretty blue eyes. You also loved the way he was looking at you, like he could strip you naked right there. And honestly, part of you wished he would.

Hvitserk instantly pulled away from Ivar and stepped toward you. "Yeah, you kids run and play. The two of us have adult business to discuss." Not taking his eyes off yours, he grabbed your hand. "The pizza doesn't happen to be located in the bedroom, does it?" he laughed. You felt your cheeks blush again. "It's incredibly attractive watching you blush. I could get used to this."

"Umm, let me get that pizza," you pulled your hand from his and went to the refrigerator.

Ivar and Alex looked at eachother and Ivar shrugged his shoulders, defeated. He waved Alex to come with him and the two of them went back to the living room together and sat back down on the sofa again. "He has done me that way my entire life," Ivar began, "But I guess Y/N has been the only one who I was actually with first," he laughed as he flashed his devilish smile at Alex, then added, "And I doubt, very seriously, he can do for her what the two of us did."

Blushing, Alex smacked him on the chest. "Ivar! Don't talk about Y/N like that! If he's a dog we should probably rescue her from him, though, no?"

"No, no. He's ok. He knows better than to hurt her. That's how he figured out everything so quickly, because I was protective of her," Ivar answered. A little louder, he continued, "He won't hurt her. I'll break his fucking neck if he does and he knows that."

From the kitchen, Hvitserk called, "Hey! I heard that!"

"Good, I fucking meant for you to, numb nuts!"

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"So," Ivar took a deep breath, "Where were we?" He gave Alex a warm smile.

Alex was surprised Ivar wanted to continue their conversation but still decided to give Ivar an out. "Umm, well, I just miss my best friend and want him back, Ivar. I just want things to be good with us again." He nervously looked to Ivar.

Ivar leaned closer to him and spoke softly, "That's just it, Alex. I think, umm, actually, I'm sure that umm, I want more than that. I mean, if you do."

Alex's mouth dropped. He was speechless. Just as he finally began to speak, "Ivar. Umm, I, uh," he grabbed Ivar's hand, "I," his doorbell rang. "Fuck!"

Looking back at Ivar, hating that they'd been interrupted yet again, Alex walked over and opened his door, "Umm, Mrs. Lothbrok!" Surprised, he turned back to Ivar. "Come in."

Alex heard Ivar sigh as he stood to meet his mother. "Did you two forget about me in the car?" She asked Ivar.

"No, mom. I was just waiting on Hvitserk. He's eating pizza." Ivar turned to Alex. "You remember Alex, don't you, mom?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. I'm sorry. Where are my manners? I'm sorry to have so rudely intruded," she smiled at Alex and kissed him on the cheek.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," he said, looking at Ivar's apologetic smile.

Hvitserk and you came from the kitchen, and he introduced you. "Mom, this is, well," he looked into your eyes and smiled, "My future girlfriend." You blushed again. What was it about this guy?

Aslaug looked you over in a very critical way but then hugged you, "Any friend of my boys' is a friend of mine. Nice to meet you, sweetheart." As she hugged you, all you could think about was how quickly everything had just changed.

Alex asked if he could get Aslaug anything to eat or drink and as she began to answer, Ivar interrupted her and nervously answered, "Um, no thanks, Alex. We should probably be leaving now."

Aslaug looked to Ivar, studying his face. "What am I missing here, dear?" She looked around at everyone. "Everyone seems to be on pins and needles."

"Nothing, mom. I just figured it's time for us to leave now, before we've worn out our welcome," Ivar was quick to answer her.

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," Alex said, looking around at them, "Y/N and I didn't have any plans this evening."

"Oh?" Aslaug began, as she gave you that same critical look, "Y/N, do you live here with dear Alex?"

You were taken back by her elegance, but somehow, she still seemed to make you feel inadequate. Inadequate of what, you weren't quite sure. There was no way she knew anything had happened between the three of you, but she definitely had this way about her. You were honestly glad you weren't in Alex's shoes. He was going to have a difficult time measuring up to her expectations, especially since he's a man. But you just knew from watching Ivar with him that there was going to be something very serious between them. It was obvious, and maybe this was why Aslaug was acting this way. She had to notice it as well.

"Um, no ma'am," you answered her. "I'm just really good friends with Alex. And Ivar, too. I'm just visiting."

"Well, you need to come visit me back at Ivar's place," Hvitserk said and kissed you on the cheek. "There's the blush in your face that I adore so much," he grinned.

"Well," Aslaug smiled, "Aren't all the boys just smitten with you?"

"Mom! Enough!" Ivar stepped in front of you just as you were about to put this woman in her place. You didn't care whose mom she was.

Hvitserk was clearly thrilled at your obvious reaction, smiling from ear to ear at you. He walked to Aslaugh's side. "Well, it's been nice seeing you again, Alex, and definitely nice meeting you, Y/N. I'll be in touch. Mom, Ivar is right. Let's go." He draped his arm around her shoulder and turned toward the door, not giving her an opportunity to protest. He looked back and said, "Ivar, we'll meet you in the car. After you say your goodbyes, of course," as he winked at you. He is slick. He walked her out the door and closed it behind them.

"Damn! What the fuck was that about?" you asked.

"My mom is a little too observant for her own good. And she's obviously too nosy. I'm so sorry, guys. She's so overbearing." Ivar looked completely defeated.

"It's ok, Ivar. I remember her well. She's always been like that. She means well. She just loves you and wants what's best for you like any mom. But look, don't worry. You're completely off the hook here. You owe me nothing," Alex swallowed loudly.

Ivar looked confused, "But Alex, we're not done here."

"Yes, we are, Ivar. For now anyway. You have too much on your plate right now and I truly understand. Just. Just make sure you keep in touch with me, ok?" Alex was even surprised at his words himself, but he knew this was best for now. He didn't want Ivar to end up resenting him and he knew this situation had the very potential for just that. He could push his own feelings aside for now. He'd already done it this long. What was a little more time? He definitely had no plans of getting into a pissing contest with Aslaug.

As he stared blankly at Alex, Ivar was completely speechless. This was not how he'd seen this evening working out. He felt crushed and completely defeated, and if he was being honest, he was a little pissed off. How could Alex just act as if none of this was important? Was he seriously simply putting what he thought was Ivar's best interests above his own? "But, Alex?"

Alex stepped to Ivar and placed his hand on his cheek. He looked Ivar deeply in his eyes and softly spoke, "Don't worry, Ivar. This is not the end. Just go and take care of your family. They need you more than I do right now." Ivar's eyes began to tear up, but he quickly, angrily wiped them dry. Alex's heart lunged for him, but he stayed steady. "I promise it will be ok."

Ivar only knodded his head and he turned to the door, not saying a word. He walked out, never looking back.

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As soon as the door closed, Alex fell to the floor, his face in his hands. You rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tightly as he began to cry. "What the fuck, Alex? What the hell is wrong with you? That man loves you! Can't you see that? Why did you send him away like that?" You were completely shocked and confused. He finally had his chance and he ended it before it even began.

He slowly lifted his head and looked at you. The pain in his eyes was almost too much for you to bear. "Y/N, you can't possibly know how he feels about me. And Hvitserk needs to be his priority right now. If we try this in the middle of him trying to help his brother get well, he'll resent me. I just know it. I'll add too much stress for him right now and you saw his mom. She will never give him a moment's rest about how he plans to give her grandchildren if I'm his choice. Nobody will ever be good enough for her boys but I definitely won't be. He doesn't need all of that right now. If it's meant to be, it will just have to wait. We shouldn't have to defend it straight out the gate." He dropped his head back down and sighed.

"But, Alex! You can't make that choice for him! He obviously thinks you're worth it. And so do I, damn it! And I'm sorry to break the news to you, but if you're going to be romantically involved with another man, you're, unfortunately, going to have to get used to defending your relationship with him. That sucks, I know, but society isn't there yet. They don't understand that you simply just love who you love."

"Well, it's done now. It'll be ok," he gulped. "It has to be."

You placed your arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Alex." You knew this was serious for him, too. That was the most selfless thing you'd ever seen anyone do. You just hoped Ivar would see it, too.

@istorkyou @vero-maris-zamo @chapada010101010 @ivarhoegh @lostasalice-thisway @lonewolf471 @lemonsarepink @covidinducedsocialreject

#ivar the boneless smut #ivar the boneless fanfiction #alex hogh andersen x reader #ivar the boneless fic #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh andersen #alex hoegh andersen #modern ivar

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 1 year

Text

Vantalaður Ást

Ivar Lothbrok Hvitserk Lothbrok x F!Reader

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17.

A/N: So I wrote a little blurb about how I was sorry this had taken so long, but tumblr deleted my first draft and I legit don’t give a fuck anymore 🤣 blah blah @kaybee87 this is for you 😘

Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, p in v (wrap it up irl.) alcohol, weddings, addiction mentions, pregnancy mention (not reader), the boys being boys.

Word Count: 7.9k+

Tagging: @ivarisms @majesticwren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @smears-and-spots @bulmabhadie @southernbe @ironynoticony @xceafh

Your boots were muffled on the plush carpet as you strode down the corridor. The boys had the biggest suite in the hotel, three bedrooms and a living area as well. Hvitserk had told you all about it and sent you pictures, it looked lovely. They were out last night getting rip-roaringly drunk and you had to mute your phone at one point because Hvitserk was blowing up your notifications and the girls were getting curious.

Pulling out the key card you slipped it quietly into the door, letting the light turn green before carefully stepping inside. It was dimly lit, a lamp on a small table casting a faint glow into the small hallway area before it spread into the room itself. Smiling, you crouched down and gently touched the sleeping form that was resting against the wall. He stirred, his eyes opening and when he saw it was you a wide, sleepy smile split his face.

“Elsku dúllan mín,” he whispered, reaching for your face to pull you to him. Recoiling slightly, your nose scrunched up at the smell of him.

“Jesus, Hvitserk. You smell like a bar!”

“I didn’t want to miss you arriving,” he said with a needy tone that made you smile and lean into him. His lips were so welcoming and you exhaled softly against him. You had been apart for a few days before the wedding and you had missed him.

“Why are you on the floor, Hvitserk?”

“I knew what time you were coming, I moved out here so I could kiss you before anyone saw.” Leaning forward you rewarded him with another, mind bendingly, tender kiss. Your fingertips ghosted over the side of his face and his hand fisted in your top.

“We should stop,” you breathed, keeping your eyes closed because you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Don’t worry. No one will see us,” his gaze dropping to your lips once more before he kissed you harder this time. A tiny moan of desperation leaving you, his arms pulling you off your feet and into him.

“Hvitserk?” A voice called. You don’t even remember getting up. But by the time Ivar had rounded the corner you were standing, hitching the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder while Hvitserk smirked on the floor. Elbows on his raised knees and a thumb swiping along his lips like he could still taste you. Ivar glanced between you both but his expression was impassive, leaning heavily on his cane. You made a note to make sure his meds were in his pocket before you left.

“What are you doing on the floor, huh?”

“Resting,” replied Hvitserk. “Still recovering from last night, brother.”

“You absolutely stink,” you commented and he sniggered lightly.

“I’m going for a shower now,” he jumped up towering over you as he stretched, his back to Ivar he gave you that puppy dog grin as your eyes locked. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Fat chance,” you retorted. Placing your hands on his hips you shimmied past him in the small space, highly aware of how close he was and hoping Ivar wasn’t reading too much into this. “You ready?” You asked the youngest Lothbrok, trying to dispel the breathlessness from your tone.

“More than the rest,” he answered, glaring at his brother who you could just tell was still smirking even as he sauntered back to his room. You followed Ivar into the living area, seeing a mini bar against one wall and Ivar perched on a stool there. You emptied your bag onto the bar surface, scattering bands, combs, hair wax and gel. You concentrated on setting everything up as Ivar watched. His blue eyes were focussed when you dared to glance at him, his head resting in the palm of his hand and hair framing his handsome face. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension that had collected between you.

“Was last night fun?” He stirred, breaking out of his reverie at the sound of your voice. His piercing gaze slid to you and for a minute you wondered if he knew the secret you bore. You always felt like Ivar could read you, better than even Hvitserk. Especially with the way he noticed even the smallest details about someone.

“It was what you would expect for a night out with my brothers.” You grinned fondly as memories surfaced.

“It’s been a while since I joined you all.” Ivar shrugged and sat up straight as you came round behind him.

“Hvitserk wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You didn’t miss the light hearted, yet probing tone of Ivar’s voice. Your hands didn’t falter though and you raked the comb through his soft strands without missing a beat.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few months,” you finally responded and Ivar scoffed, his fist closed firmly around the handle on his cane.

“Uh huh.” He didn’t say anything else because Ubbe appeared from around the corner. He squinted at you and then threw himself onto a sofa with a groan.

“What time is it?” He rasped, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Struggling, brother?” You tugged on Ivar’s hair in warning and he sighed heavily.

“How are you….functioning?” Ubbe asked Ivar as he hung over the arm of the sofa watching you do his youngest brother's hair.

“I was sensible. And I knew we had to be up early. I didn’t get so drunk I acted like an idiot all night long either.”

“No. You don’t need alcohol for that Ivar,” Sigurd announced his arrival with that comment, making Ivar turn his head and you dropped the braid.

“Stay still!” You hissed, forcing his head back round. “No arguing today. This is Björn’s big day and if I so much as sniff the pair of you taking chunks out of each other, I will personally march you from the wedding myself.” You jabbed the comb in Sigurd’s direction and he held up his hands to show he surrendered. “You too,” you stated, poking Ivar in the shoulder and making him curse softly.

“She’s right,” Ubbe mumbled. “No fighting.”

“Did I hear my litla systir?” You let Björn hug you from behind, wrapping you in one of his famous snuggly bear hugs. He leaned on your shoulder, squeezing you hard round the middle before releasing you.

“Nervous, brother bear?”

“Nah. Should I be?” He asked quickly and you shook your head.

“They were all still asleep when I left this morning but the excitement is popping.” You finished off Ivar’s hair, tying the last braid and resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re done. Sigurd?” Applying some wax to your hands you scrunched his curls before segmenting out some strands at the side and began to braid them close behind his ear. “What am I doing with yours, Björn?”

“Just redoing the braids.”

“What about me?” You glanced up only to feel a flame in your face at the sight of Hvitserk fresh from his shower. He still had droplets of water settling like diamonds on his skin. His tattoo that you had traced with your fingers while he told you about it, rippled as he poured himself some water for the small sink behind the bar. He leaned easily against the counter, the towel slung dangerously low and it was all you could do to keep your eyes trained on Sigurd’s braids.

“Put some fucking clothes on!” Sigurd grabbed a handful of your bands and threw them at Hvitserk.

“Hey! I need those!”

“I’ve got them, sæta.” Peering over the bar you saw Hvitserk give you a wink when he was ducked down and you rolled your eyes, grateful that Sigurd had broken the moment for you. Prodding the blonde Lothbrok in the shoulder, you were satisfied when he flinched and swore.

“Don’t mess with me today, Sigurd.” Finally you finished both sides and stepped back to admire your handy work. “Do you…?”

“No I’m done,” he said as he slipped off the stool.

“I’m next!” Demanded Hvitserk who still hadn’t got dressed. This was going to be a struggle. The others slowly filtered away to get changed and soon you were left alone with him. His hazel eyes looked around as you tilted his head to the side. You jolted slightly when he slipped a hand down your legs, digging his fingertips into your thigh and you inhaled sharply before slapping him with the flat of the comb.

“Ouch, kærasta!”

“Don’t distract me!” You whispered.

“I can’t help myself.” His leg jigged in irritation and he crossed his arms across his chest. “I just want to tell everyone how I feel. How we feel.”

“I know. Soon, ok?” You breathed, combing half of his hair out of the way. “Let Björn and Kat have their day.”

“But then we’re…” he trailed off as Ivar thumped into view.

“Oh wow look at you!” It spilled from you a little too brightly but he did look amazing. Kat had picked out black suits with a deep red waistcoat under the jacket, over a black shirt. Without thinking you stepped around Hvitserk and reached to adjust Ivar’s collar. He tipped his head forward and you slipped your fingers round, smoothing it all down only to be struck by how sad his gaze was when it locked with yours. “You ok?”

“Are you finishing my hair? I want to get ready.” You looked over your shoulder to glower at Hvitserk but he just bit his bottom lip as he watched you and Ivar. His leg was still going and his arms tightened slightly across his chest, bunching up his muscles.

“Shut up, Hvitserk,” Ivar snapped.

“Make me. Brother.”

“Oh children! Do I have to give you two the same threat I gave Ivar and Sigurd? No fucking fighting!” You made a point of glaring at Hvitserk but he avoided your gaze, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Seems someone is the common denominator there,” muttered Hvitserk and you cracked him on the shoulder. The slap sounded worse than it was but he still flinched, you had no doubt Ivar was looking smug behind you.

“Pack it in. Now let me finish your hair and I’ll gush over how handsome you look too, Mr What About Me.” Not much else was said as you swiftly braided Hvitserk’s hair, his arms not shifting from his defensive position.

You gave each brother the same attention you’d given Ivar, except Björn. When you saw him you nearly sobbed, letting him drag you into an all encompassing bear hug before he sent you packing back to the girls.

You took a moment before you left, watching them preening amongst themselves as Ubbe poured some mead for them all. You went to leave when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve got time,” muttered Björn, holding out a glass for you.

“Surely this is a brother thing,” you assumed.

“It’s a family thing,” Ubbe spoke up. Dumping your bag beside the sofa you reluctantly took the glass, Björn wrapping his arm around and pulling you into him.

“Who’d have thought I’d be the first one to get married,” he started and you all scoffed in amusement.

“You’re the only one in a steady enough relationship,” Ivar pointed out. “I’d say it was pretty obvious.” Hvitserk groaned and nudged his brother as you glared at him from under Björn’s embrace.

“To our oldest brother,” Ubbe raised his glass and looked around the group. “May he pave the way for the rest of us.”

“Here, here!” You cheered, knocking your glass into the rest and you all chugged the mead quickly. You gave up after a few gulps knowing there was wine waiting for you. “Don’t spill any!” You cried as they tipped their heads back, Hvitserk gasping in satisfaction when he finished first, a proud smile splitting his face.

“Still the fastest chugger,” he announced.

“That’s what she said,” muttered Sigurd and they all descended into snorts of laughter.

“I’ve got to go! Have fun boys, for the love of the gods don’t drink much more! Don’t mark your suits and be on fucking time!” You stressed urgently.

“Don’t worry astvinur,” Ubbe said as he wrapped an arm around Björn and gestured with the hand still clutching his glass tankard. “After you I’m the most sensible one here.” You smiled, shaking your head and made your way to the door.

“Hey!” You paused, watching Hvitserk approach, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you looked him over, appreciating his suit. “Checking me out, huh sæta?”

“Maybe,” you admitted quietly.

“I can’t wait to see you in your dress.” As he spoke he leaned against the half shut door, his fingers curling over yours and his hazel eyes dragging up and down your form. He sucked in his bottom lip, such a simple motion had such a devastating effect on you it was all you could do to keep your composure.

“Kiss me,” you whispered boldly. His gaze flared, followed by a swift cocky upturn to his lips before he was snatching the breath from your body.

“I don’t want to stop…” he mumbled against your mouth, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face and you groaned. Coming to your senses, you pushed him away. Gently touching your lips as you adjusted the bag strap on your shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Not soon enough,” he grumbled good naturedly. The door didn’t close and you knew he was watching you walk away so you sashayed before breaking down in giggles. The door finally closed and you sighed, thinking he’d gone but instead he grabbed your arm and spun you round just as you turned the corner in the corridor. Both hands came up to cradle your face as he gave you a deep, needy kiss which made your head spin. Your lungs ached because you forgot to breathe and the butterflies in your stomach started doing somersaults.

“Go now or I’ll never let you leave,” he groaned. Biting your lip you smiled.

“I’m going.”

“Hvitserk? You out here?” Ubbe shouted into the hallway.

“Shit, yeah I’m coming!” He called, sauntering round the corner and you leaned against the wall, fanning yourself. You had to get a grip but today was going to be so terribly difficult.

You left the main hotel building, walking purposely back towards the Bride’s cottage that you’d left everyone else in. Music was going, Lagertha was pouring wine and she cheered loudly when you entered. Kat was sitting at the dresser having her makeup done, Alex was dancing with Hali, making the boy throw his head back with laughter.

Before you’d even put your bag down, you were almost knocked over by Asa as she wrapped her little arms around you.

“How is frændi Hvitserk?” She whispered. Her eyes were wide and you got down on her level. Ever since they’d been told about Hvitserk and his “illness,” she had made all these scenarios up in her mind and you were the only one who could put her mind at ease.

“I’ve just seen him,” you whispered. “And he told me, he cannot wait to see his very favourite frænka.” You let her digest that information for a moment and she rewarded you with a beaming smile.

“He did?” She gasped. “Will he look at my pretty dress?” She stepped back and did a twirl in the rich red dress that matched the brothers. The layers flared out creating such a beautiful image for the briefest of moments you almost felt broody. She was gorgeous, and one of your favourite people on this planet. When she stopped you straightened her straps, gently brushing her hair off her shoulder and gave her a smile.

“He is going to love your dress. Shall I get in mine?” Without a word she grabbed your hand, barely giving you time to wave at Kat who was beginning to look nervous before you were dragged into the other room.

She chatted to you the whole time, bringing you up to speed on Torvi who you’d just missed; her little legs swinging on the chair while she waited for you to reappear. The dress was perfect, long floaty material that hid all the sins of your body and a matching shade to Asa’s. The sleeves were off the shoulder, leaving straps to hold it up, blooms of lace plunging down, but not indecently. Thankfully Kat had also got you all some white faux fur pashminas to cover your shoulders. Already you knew though, some dancing, some shots and you wouldn't be feeling the cold anymore.

You joined the others, Asa letting go of your hand and running to join Lagertha on the sofa while she watched you all get ready. Kat was standing nervously to the side and you scowled at her.

“Stop chewing!” You scolded softly.

“I know but I’m so nervous!” She breathed. “How did he seem?” You sat in the chair and let the makeup artist start on you.

“Björn is stupidly excited,” you nearly made a joke about them celebrating so hard they might be late; but from the look of her that would be a very ill timed joke. “They’re all so happy for him.”

“No horror stories from last night?”

“Nope. They got drunk, probably danced until Ivar ruined their fun…haven’t you got a dress to put on?” You asked, making her jump up. Luckily Lagertha and Asa distracted Kat and disappeared with her to get changed.

Finally you were all done, standing there with your beautiful flowers, make up and hair done and a sense of anticipation filled the cottage when Lagertha asked if you were all ready to see.

She opened the doors and a collective gasp spilled from you and Alex as Kat stepped into the room.

Her dress was exquisite, the top half made of lined lace, hugging her body and covering her arms in patterns of flowers and leaves. The middle band was a matching shade of red, gems glinting in the light when she moved, the skirt of her dress flowing elegantly round her legs.

“Well?” She squeaked. You were lost for words, tears threatening to ruin all the hard work of the makeup artist so when Hali stepped forward first you let out a little shaky breath.

“I think you look beautiful,” he said earnestly. “Can I walk you down the aisle?” Alex blew out a breath and you knew she was trying not to cry as much as you were.

“Yes, Hali. Of course you can.” You all fussed around the bride, adjusting her veil and laying out the train of her dress before lining up.

They were getting married just behind the cottage to a backdrop of mountains and snow and then the wedding party would move to the marquee to eat and dance. This wedding had been pulled together quickly but it had all slotted into place perfectly and you were bursting with pride that your biggest brother bear was finally getting married.

Björn wasn’t late. All the brothers were stood at the altar, looking impeccable but your gaze softened at the sight of Hvitserk. Imagining this is what it would be like to get married to him. Marriage was not something you’d really put a lot of thought into but now you had that…that someone. This desire was foreign and you weren’t entirely sure what to do with it. Concentrating on the ceremony you hoped your thoughts would clear but your gaze kept wandering to Hvitserk, only to find him returning the focussed look.

The pair of you almost missed the end of the ceremony, the kiss, the cheers. Following the newly married couple into the marquee you were momentarily distracted by Asa as she dragged you round pointing out the decorations and the buffet that was being laid out. Eventually you made it to the bar, immediately asking for a gin and guzzling it harder than you should.

“Thirsty?” You let out a moan into your glass, you didn’t need this right now. Not when he looked for fucking good in that suit.

“Go away Hvitserk,” you whispered, flinching when he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your entire body tensed but he let out a soothing “ssssh,” into your ear.

“Relax, sæta. No one suspects a thing.”

“I just don’t want to ruin their moment.” You whispered. He ordered a drink from over your shoulder, pressing in behind and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep your thoughts to yourself. Hvitserk leaned on the bar beside you, nursing his drink but keeping contact with you even when other people came and spoke to you both. When the rush cleared you two found yourselves alone at the end of the bar, observing everyone enjoying themselves.

“I want you,” he murmured in your ear just as the DJ stepped up to play some music while people ate. Your entire body felt like it was electrified, the hairs on your arms standing on end as his words spawned a desire deep in your belly. You pressed your back into him, each movement just giving him a hint of friction on the growing bulge in his trousers. You smirked at the tiny little breath hitch he gave, his hidden hand grabbing an arse cheek hard enough to make you jump. “Don’t tease me,” he growled.

“Why not? You do it to me all the time.” You casually finished your drink, stepping back a little to bump into him harder and he swore under his breath, fingers grabbing your hip to hold you in place.

“Bathroom. Now.” Protests died in your throat as the pair of you scanned the crowd before quickly diving into the door to your left. He barged you through the doors and thankfully the place was empty. His lips were insistent, his fingers commanding with the way they held your throat. Molten heat pooled between your legs and you wanted nothing more than to have him here, right now.

“We shouldn’t!” You giggled as Hvitserk kissed his way up your throat and the side of your face.

“But the dress,” he groaned. “You in that dress is driving me wild. Do you know how difficult it is for me to keep my expression blank so Ubbe doesn’t figure us out?”

“Just call me litla…”

“Don’t ruin the moment for me!” He huffed, forcing his lips to cover yours and stop you talking. You eased yourself up onto the counter, legs spread so he could wedge himself between them. His hand held your face, a simple motion you had missed these past few days. The kiss tossed back and forth between you, both of you fighting for dominance and a small giggle left you at the idea of doing this in a bathroom at your friend's wedding. “I missed you!” He whispered and you moaned softly as his hand slipped under the folds of floaty material. His breath hitched when he felt your lace underwear and you smirked over his shoulder. He kissed you again, almost cracking your head on the tiles, he was so desperate to taste your lips. “Sæta, I need you…”

“We can’t,” you breathed. But already your hips were lifting off the counter as he slipped your underwear down your thighs. Your arms curled round his neck, holding him close and inhaling everything that made him so ultimately Hvitserk. You heard his belt go, the buckle clanking on the surface as he slipped his trousers down. You planted your foot against the hand dryer on the wall as Hvitserk reached to hook his hand over the top of the mirror behind you. You were both so desperate you knew no foreplay was needed. Spitting on his hand, Hvitserk wiped it quickly on his flushed cock and you wriggled on the counter in anticipation. His other hand hooked around your waist and hauled you to the edge, notching his cock at your entrance and both of you groaned in unison at the sensation.

With a firm thrust he entered you fully, his hazel eyes watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. His own face screwing up in concentration, knowing the pair of you could be discovered at any moment. He rocked your body, desperate to reach that point that neither of you could back from. His entire body was tense, his lips trailing over your neck as you leaned back into the support of his arm. He found a steady rhythm, all the while you tried to keep listening out for the door but you were soon drowning in the noise of the gasps and moans that filled the bathroom.

His hands came back to your body, clutching you to him as he throbbed inside you, filling and stretching your cunt at this angle. His mouth was open, his eyes glassy and hooded which told you he was close. His gasps increased, mingled with your own; they echoed loudly against the tiles.

“Hvitserk, I’m gonna…” your voice was breathy and it seemed to spur him on to increase the tempo. Your mouth found his, feeding off his desire, tasting his neediness and it brought you so close to the brink.

“Guð, þú ert svo kynþokkafullur,” he gasped against your cheek just as you cunt clamped around him. Burying your face into him, you hoped he would absorb the loud cries that threatened to echo out of the bathroom. The rippling sensation of your orgasm had him rutting forcefully into you as he found his own release. His fingers tangled almost painfully in your braids, his form trembling against yours as he worked you both through the remaining waves of pleasure that weaved between you.

Catching your breath you let him kiss the soft, tender spot under your ear, his hips flexing into you once more as he cupped your face.

The squeak of the outer door had you shoving him away and he quickly disappeared into a stall to redress, still having time to chuck you a devilish smirk before you grabbed your underwear off the floor just as the door opened and Kat and Alex strode in.

“There you are!” Cried Kat.

“Why does it smell like sex in here?” Alex asked with a rise of her eyebrow.

“I have no idea,” you forced out. “Maybe people were in here before me.” Looking in the mirror you saw you were a mess, lipstick was smeared across your lips and you quickly worked on sorting it out, keeping your legs crossed and hoping you could dive into a stall soon.

“Whatever. I have a crisis!” You dared to glance at the door Hvitserk was hiding behind and quickly tried to figure out how you were going to get them out of here.

“Shall we do this at the bar. With shots?” You suggested but Kat leaned on the counter.

“No alcohol.” Both you and Alex glanced at each other over her hunched form.

“Why?” Alex asked.

“I think I’m pregnant,” whispered Kat. All of you turned at once as Hvitserk burst from the stall, excitement lighting up his face and you died a little inside but thankfully his trousers were done up.

“What the hell Hvitserk?!” You cried trying to act surprised.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” smirked Alex. Kat just gazed at him with wide imploring eyes.

“This is the ladies!” She cried but then waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “You can’t tell him, Hvitserk! Promise me!”

“I won’t say a word,” he grinned before grabbing her in a bear-like hug, his bright eyes slowly wandering to you and you smiled tentatively. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He released Kat and to your surprise he slipped an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, lingering for just a second longer than he needed to. You coughed slightly hoping the desire in your body wasn’t there for everyone to see. He made a fuss of kissing Kat and then Alex before his gaze turned back to you with all unspoken promises and he disappeared from view.

“Well that needs some explaining. His shirt was untucked,” Alex pointed out but Kat deflected the comment.

“Her and Hvitserk are together all the time, they’re like twins,” she murmured. “He probably freaked when he heard us because this is the girls bathroom.” You nodded but you could see Alex wasn’t buying what Kat was saying, her gaze was unforgiving and you almost buckled under the weight of it.

“So. Have you done a test?” You asked, hoping to put the attention back on Kat.

“That’s what we’re here to do,” announced Alex. You and Kat stared at her as she delved into her bag and pulled out a box.

“You just walk around with them in your bag?” You asked incredulously but all she did was shrug as Kat fell on the box. Gathering her dress she disappeared into a stall.

“So,” started Alex. She pinned you with a knowing look and you shifted uncomfortably. “Hvitserk.”

“Is my best friend,” you stated.

“I’m not accepting that he’s just a friend.”

“He’s had a difficult time and I’ve been helping him through it these last 6 months.” You avoided her gaze, it wasn’t a total lie. You had been helping him through everything and he was doing great. The pair of you were also in a full blown relationship underneath everyone’s nose, wanting to see if it worked before you told anyone else. It quickly became evident that it was working and you both decided to keep it under wraps until after the wedding.

Thankfully her attention was redirected when Kat flushed the toilet. She looked a little pale when she placed the test on top of the box, face down.

“Now we wait.”

Everyone was dancing in the marquee. The music was loud and jaunty, Ubbe grabbed you for a twirl as you walked past, your red dress fluttering around your legs. Laughter and happy conversation drifted on the notes of the song and you found your spirits lifted, a smile permanently on your face. This was everything you had dreamed for Kat and Björn and you were so happy they had finally taken the last step.

You paused, watching Kat and Björn in the middle of the dance floor sharing a private moment in the whirlwind of their day. Most of the guests were up and dancing, except Ivar. You came to a stop beside him, hoping he’d say something. It had been strained between you these past few months but most of your effort has gone into hiding your relationship with Hvitserk.

“Are you having a good time?” You asked, glancing at him and seeing how relaxed he was.

“It is a party and a feast. What isn’t there to like?”

“Are you happy for Björn?” He sipped his drink, rubbing his hand over his mouth when he was finished and pointing at Kat.

“She is the best of his choices.”

“Yes she is,” you agreed with a soft smile. “She has changed him and made him grow up.”

“How is it living with my brother?” Ivar asked with a smirk. “Because out of all of us, he is the messiest.”

“Yes he is,” you said with warm affection. “But his hours are long and it gives me time to pick up after him and work.” Sipping your glass of champagne you watched Hvitserk on the opposite of the dance floor, he was talking to Halfdan. His hands animated as he described something and you smiled to yourself. Sure you had bad days and this whole week had been an ultimate test for him; what with being away from you for a few days and around the most alcohol he’d had in months. But he’d done it. He was doing it. And you felt your heart swell with pride.

“I do think I could have handled it better.” Turning slightly you looked at Ivar who was staring into the pits of his glass. His expression was pensive, sadness shone in the depths of his exquisite blue irises and your throat ran dry all of a sudden.

“Handled, what better?”

“You. Us—this.”

“I don’t….”

“I need to finish.” He didn’t sound angry, but his features were dragged down, his teeth appearing for a second as he desperately tried to express himself. His eyes looked all around until they finally settled on you making your heart stutter for a brief moment. “I knew. Long before you and Hvitserk, I knew. I could see it and still I let myself…want you.” The splinters that had long repaired began to seep, the gentle shift of your heart started the age old ache that you carried around with you, buried deep inside. “I let myself feel and then—well, I tried.”

“So did I, Ivar. But you didn’t let me be yours.” He shrugged, his leg shuffling into better position.

“And then Hvitserk,” he continued. “I saw your face at the hospital and I knew at that moment you’d never be fully mine. Even though I hoped... Even Sigurd tried and didn’t get anywhere.”

“W-what?” Now he smirked, covering the pain in his face at your shock.

“It’s why he created a scene at the lodge. You all forget, I observe everything.”

“But you knew?!”

“Of course I knew,” he replied, scrunching up his nose. Scoffing in disbelief you drained your glass.

“What do we do now?” You asked quietly as the pair of you stood shoulder to shoulder, watching your family and friends with smiles lighting their faces. The happiness that filled this wedding was something you hadn’t felt in such a long time and even now it was tinged with a greyness you couldn’t put a name to.

“You carry on. You are exactly what Hvitserk needed, still needs. You were always his.” You glanced at the youngest Lothbrok, tears welling in your eyes as your mind ran through what could have been.

“Maybe in another life,” you murmured.

“One where I learn to love what’s good for me.” On a whim, you leaned in close and he turned to you in surprise. His eyes softened as your scent wrapped around him and he breathed deeply. Boldly you placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. You felt him lean into you, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, your shed tears resting on his skin.

“I’m sorry, Ivar,” you whispered. He nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat as his fingers dug into you. One last contact before you were gone for good. Without looking back at him you left. Abandoning your glass on an empty table as the sobs rose up inside you. Maybe if he’d tried harder you’d have stayed. But it was all ifs, buts and maybes.

It was dark in the garden, the light of the braziers only stretched so far and you needed a moment. Tears slid down your face, knowing you still had to talk to Björn and Ubbe. It had been difficult with Ivar, more than you were anticipating. Your old feelings had surfaced, because you had let yourself want him. You had let yourself hope. The love for him was still there but it was edged with pain. You knew why he had pushed you away in the end, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“What are you doing?” Whirling around you held in a scream, your heart leaping in fear but it was only Sigurd.

“What is it with you Lothbroks scaring the shit out of me?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes and hoping he didn’t notice.

“Sorry,” he replied, giving you a toothy grin that said anything but.

“In answer to your question, I was just taking a moment.”

“To cry.”

“No…” he grabbed at your arm and forced you to face him. You went to push him off but he gently swiped a stray tear off your chin.

“I saw you talking to Ivar.”

“He didn’t do this to me.”

“He doesn’t have to do anything to make someone cry,” he stated and you huffed out a laugh. “There, that’s the smile,” he murmured.

“You didn’t come out here to make me smile, Sigurd.”

“Rumbled.” He released you but stayed beside you, resting against a tree, his curly hair cascaded over his shoulders as he glanced back at the wedding. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Me? You barely let me touch your hair.”

“No, not for that. For Hvitserk.”

“Hv-Hvitserk?” You stuttered.

“None of us could have brought him back from the edge like you have. You are special to him.” You rubbed your hands up your bare arms looking away from him as he spoke because you knew your face would give you away. “More than he lets on.”

“I’m just his friend,” you lied quietly and Sigurd laughed in quiet disbelief.

“We all have eyes, krúttið mitt.”

“Not you an’ all,” you muttered. He placed a hand on your shoulder, drawing you into his warm body and you went easily. Slipping your hands under his suit jacket and snuggling close into his body.

“Ivar knows. He knew.” You felt Sigurd tense against you followed by a quick draw of breath as he attempted a nonchalant shrug.

“Doesn’t matter now anyway,” mumbled Sigurd and you nodded.

“I might turn in.” Leaving his embrace you let him catch you round the waist. His mismatched green eyes glinted in the firelight as they searched your features.

“Goodbye, krúttið mitt.” The phrase held more weight than normal and you both knew it.

“Bye, Sigurd.” His fingers trailed over your hip as you moved away. His gaze followed you until you’d disappeared into the crowd.

You were caught up in the swirl of warmth and happiness, joy spilled over and tried to light your soul as you weaved your way across the dance floor. Ubbe clutched your hand, pulling you from the throng and over to the bar with Björn following. He embraced you with one of those bear hugs you adored so much. It was getting harder and harder to keep yourself from falling apart as you stared at the boys who had been your older brothers and protectors for most of your life.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Ubbe started.

“Oh yeah. What have I done now?”

“It’s Hvitserk,” stated Björn and you felt your smile faltering as your gaze drifted between two very different sets of blue eyes.

“Oh?”

“I don’t know what you did ástvinur,” Ubbe leaned on his elbows against the bar, facing the gathering. “But I haven’t seen Hvitserk smile like that in months.”

“He has done amazingly,” you said lightly.

“Bjarnarungi,” Björn whispered a name you hadn’t heard in such a long time and you almost sobbed it all out to them there and then. “Does he make you happy?” As you stared up at Björn, Ubbe leaned in closer.

“Because you make him happy.”

“Guys…we were going to wait until after the wedding before we said anything!” Ubbe let out a noise of satisfaction as Björn slammed his hand firmly onto the wooden surface of the bar.

“I knew it!” He exclaimed loudly. The pair of them reached for you at the same time and you felt the heat of your emotion as it crept down your face. Holding tightly onto their arms you sobbed quietly, wanting to remember this moment forever.

“My turn!” More hands snaked round you and the others shifted to make room for Hvitserk pressed in behind you. His face burying into your neck, the tickle of his breath catching your behind the ear.

“Group hug!” Shouted Sigurd as he barrelled into you all, nearly making the group fall over and you let out a breathless giggle.

“Ivar!” Ubbe shouted and you wondered if he’d join in. Turning in the tight hug you felt Hvitserk move to the side and Ivar appeared. All of you created a circle, linking arms as you all peered inward, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. Wedged between Ivar and Björn with Hvitserk opposite you couldn’t help but get caught up in the feel of you all together. It probably wouldn’t happen again for a long time.

“No matter what happens,” Björn stated quietly. “We are Lothbroks.”

“Except me!” You piped up making Ubbe cough slightly and Sigurd rolled his eyes in a good natured way.

“Right now,” Björn continued. “I need to give my wife her present! Litla systir…” he prised you from the tangle of the others and walked you to the edge of the dance floor. “Find Floki, tell him it’s time.” You nodded, for once completely in the dark about what he was going to do. You found Floki talking with Lagertha who beamed as you approached, embracing you gently and rubbing your arm.

“Litla hrafn.” You went willingly into Floki’s waiting embrace breathing him in deeply before looking up at him.

“Björn said it's time.” He excused himself from Lagertha and still with his arm around you, steered you out of the marquee. “Where are we going?”

“Björn got Kat a…” he giggled, his entire face lighting up at the irony. “A köttur. He got Kat, a cat.” You frowned, seeing he’d brought you to the car park where his van was. Unlocking the camper he ushered you inside.

“Floki, it’s warm in here. Are we going to collect it?” There was no evidence of a cat in the living area of the camper.

“In here,” he gestured to you and opened the door to his bedroom. Clasping your hands together you let out a high pitched squeal, whispering how adorable the kitten was as it padded towards you across Floki’s bed, fluffy tail raised and little mewling cries spewed from it. “I’ve been coming to check on her every hour,” he assured you. “Komið svo litli kettlingur.” He scooped her up and held her close, whispering words of endearment as he carefully put her in the carrier.

“We can’t go with you.” The words fell from you before you’d even really thought about it and Floki looked at you, no judgement in his eyes as he waited for you to finish. “Hvitserk would do it, for me. But I can’t ask that of him.” Floki nodded and pulled you down to sit on the covers, his hands smothering yours lovingly.

“I’m glad you saw it yourself. You are more in tune with him than you even realise. Dóttir…”

“I’m sorry. I did really want to come with you to travel but I don’t think—just not now.” The disappointment was evident on your face but the pain of ripping Hvitserk from people he loved the most was something you couldn’t do. He was doing so well, firmly back to the Hvitserk you’d known all your life, he was working, living… At the time he’d agreed and said it would do him good, because he’d do anything for you. “We’ll visit,” you whispered, squeezing Floki’s fingers.

“I’d like that.” Hitching up a smile you gestured to the kitten purring loudly from the carrier as she rubbed against the side.

“We should get her inside. She’s the second main event after all.” Floki chuckled and nodded in agreement.

The marquee was still heaving with the celebrations but you and Floki headed to the cottage just set amongst some trees. It was where you and others had got ready. Your stuff would have been moved from the cottage and put in your rooms in the main building but you couldn’t resist flirting about and straightening things up. Moving the champagne to beside the bed, spreading out the rose petals a bit more and moving the suitcases so they weren’t in the way. As you drew out the hanger for Kat’s dress the main door opened and they spilled in fresh from the dance floor, all giggles and rosy faces. Kat saw you first and threw her arms around you.

“I’m gonna tell him,” she whispered and you hugged her back tightly. “It feels right.”

“It does,” you breathed back.

“Eiginkonu.” You turned Kat around and pushed her towards Björn. “I have a gift for you.” She nearly screamed, hands over her mouth as she danced on the spot while Floki carefully extracted the kitten.

“Oh my gods, she is gorgeous!!” Kat exclaimed and tears began to well in her eyes as the kitten snuggled in her arms. “Oh Björn!”

“Faðir.” You helped the door open just in time to hear your friend say she had something to tell Björn before you closed it, leaving them to their bliss.

“So the others know about me and Hvitserk.”

“Yes, I know, litla hrafn. I think you and Hvitserk were the last ones to know.”

“That just makes me feel stupid,” you moaned but Floki shook his head.

“You needed the time to come to the realisation yourselves or it never would have worked.” He paused at the entrance, the flashing lights dancing over his form and you felt that telltale sinking feeling in your gut.

“You’re going to leave now.”

“I am, Dóttir.”

“It never gets any easier,” you sniffled. Floki drew you in, rubbing circles on your back as he comforted you, murmuring all the while about how much he loved and missed you but he just couldn’t stay in one place. After a few minutes he turned you round and deposited you in a pair of arms you knew so well. Burying yourself into his chest as the emotions took over. You felt happy because today had been amazing but at the same time you felt sad and confused about changing your plans last minute.

Hvitserk spoke to Floki as he held you, his voice rumbling through his chest but you didn’t want to listen to what was being said, only noticing the way Floki’s touch left your shoulder and you knew he’d gone. You were barely aware of being led inside the main building, Hvitserk guiding you into the quiet of a dark room and making you lay down with him.

He cradled you close, letting you wring yourself dry until drowsiness took over. He brushed the hair out of your now peaceful face. He knew what pressure you’d been under with work, looking after him and helping him slowly get back into work. He owed you everything, his entire life if he was honest. He couldn’t imagine never seeing your face again or hearing your voice, experiencing your touch and all of that kept him here. It tethered him, grounded him to keep fighting and never give into those urges again.

As he rocked you gently he fished around in his pocket and drew out a small box. Flicking the lid open he held it up to the lamp light, admiring the way the light fractured on the facets of the diamond he had purchased for you. Ravens of white gold held the gem, wings spread to join onto the band that would one day sit on your finger. He wanted nothing more than to give it to you but it never felt right. Snapping the box closed he buried it once more in his pocket, snuggling down with you and telling himself the time would come soon.

#vantalaður ást #at last #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x f!reader #hvitserk x you #ivar x f!reader #modern ivar x reader #modern hvitserk x reader #modern ivar #modern hvitserk #modern au #vikings modern au

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underscorewriting · 1 year

Note

Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless

this. this is the one I might be the most excited for to write!

Thank you for your request :)

May the gods forbid.

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: Language probably?

Words: 2.425

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was. He wasn't supposed to happen. The gods were playing tricks on her, this couldn't be real. She wanted to hate him, hate how he despised her sister. He was a smartass, an arrogant little boy with anger issues if something didn't go his way.

One son of Ragnar was her greatest fear for her younger sister. Ivar. He was unpredictable and even though the girl was taught how to fight, Lagertha knew that she would not be good enough to protect herself from him. That was the main reason why Lagrtha forbid her sister to leave her side. Lagertha was always very protective of her, even more when the sons of Aslaug and Ragnar started planning to kill her or hurt her the same way she hurt them by killing their mother.

So one night when the girl was upset and searched for a place to hide away, she walked into the woods. Flokis and Helgas place always brought her the most comfort when her and Lagertha fought, those were the times she thought the girl was quietly in her chamber. Sitting down in a small meadow, she leaned back, watching the stars, inhaling the fresh air.

Rustling behind her made her hand quickly shoot to the dagger she kept on her thigh. "Well don't you look cozy." The cold voice of the prince made her flinch as she sat up completely, her body being on alert if he tried anything. "What do you want, Ivar?" The exhaustion from was as clear in her voice and how she said his name as it was on her face. She didn't want to live like this. To live a life that held nothing for her, since she wasn't allowed to do much. Even her nephew Björn was always watching over her when he was here.

Tilting his head Ivar studied her face for a second before crawling over to her and settling down besides her. "I decided I won't kill you." He pursed his lips looking over at her a playful glint in his eyes. "Not yet at least." A small smile pulled at her lips as she averted her face. "Ubbe told us about how Lagertha screamed at you. She was always quiet..." A stern glare from the girl made the boy hold his hands up in defense, a small smirk on his face as he saw her hand moving away from the dagger, finally starting to relax.

Ivar was a simple man, his plan to kill Lagertha was only left uncompleted due to his attraction to her little sister and now having her here in front of him was something he didn't know he longed for. Looking back up at the sky she sighed in frustration. "How is the world out there? You traveled didn't you?" Sitting up straight she turned to him.

The young princes eyebrows raised in surprise as he smiled slightly. "The world is huge, it has so much to see." pouting slightly the girl cursed her sister as she listened to Ivars stories. He told her all about Wessex and the people there, how different their belief are from theirs, which she as well found hilarious. As the night turned colder they took the path back to their home. Not once did they stop talking about what he saw out there and what she would want to see once she'll get out there.

"Gods, I want to see the world, Ivar." Smiling softly she twirled and inhaled the fresh air. Watching her Ivar felt his heart swell at the sight of her carefreeness. "I want to show it to you." His tone was serious and when she looked at him she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "Ivar..." Her voice was a mere whisper, shaking her head she sat down in the dirt near a haystack.

"We can't. Lagertha would never allow this. She wouldn't allow us, Ivar..." She was desperate for him to understand that this would never happen, but he was not having any of it. He would take what he want and if he wanted to have her, then he was going to have her. "Your sister does not control you, nor does anyone else. You should be able to live your life how you want it to be, the gods forbid that you won't live it to the fullest."

Looking around she kissed his cheek quickly. "I'll meet with you in the meadow tomorrow night, don't be late!" She turned around as she quickly ran to her chambers, smiling brightly at him before entering. The young prince couldn't help but grin at her actions, feeling a little giddy himself.

After that night they started sneaking around at night, only sharing small meaningful glances at each other when they passed one another or during a feast. Soon Lagertha grew suspicious, but not because she noticed any of the glances, no, it was because suddenly her sister started training more, stopped questioning her about being able to travel. It was as if she suddenly stopped caring about all that.

Ubbe offered to train with her, Lagertha trusted him so she allowed him to take her sister to the woods during the day as well. Ivar told his brothers about her and how he wanted to see her at any costs as much as he could. In the woods the four of them would train, Ivar didn't trust Sigurd close to her, due to disgusting glances he threw her way when she was merely visiting them over the past years.

She soon found herself growing closer to the brothers and feeling accepted by them. Freedom, was so close she could almost taste it. Walking with Ivar at night was her newly found escape, after he got his greave done for his legs and fixed up his crutches they could even hold hands while walking. Him rubbing her hand soothingly with his thumb, placing ocationally kisses onto her palm , whenever she talked about something that upset her. He enjoyed listening to her almost as much as her gentle kisses he would get to feel whenever his pain was unbearable.

They balanced each other nicely and after a few months the word marriage appeared more and more in their talks about their future. The girl was scared of how her sister would react to her and the youngest Ragnarsson being inseparable and spent every minute they could together.

But she didn't need to tell her, because one day during her and Ubbes training lessons, while she was play fighting with Ivar . Lagertha walked up the path, none of them noticed her sharp eyes watching. Ivar had her pinned down, laughing while she tried to push him of before rolling over and sitting on his stomach, having the prince at her mercy making her grin down at him.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were watching them, drinking ale and laughing at what the other said. Lagertha was disappointed in her, why didn’t she tell her that they were lovers? She continues watching them and filled an old familiar pain in her heart. Ivar was holding her sister now, not strong enough to hurt but strong enough to let her know he had control over the situation but her sister seemed completely fine with it as she leaned into his chest looking up at him with gentle eyes and a loving smile.

Ivars smile matched hers and in this exact moment Lagertha realized that she kept her sister protected from the most beautiful thing out there, a thing she herself shared with Ragnar even after his death. Love. Ivar was similar to Ragnar in many ways, but with her in his arms he resembled his father more than anyone would guess. Of course, she didn’t want her sister to be with someone like Ivar, he was dangerous, but if it is him that makes her as happy as she is right now, then that is all she would ask for.

Returning to her throne back in the great hall Lagertha couldn’t stop thinking about how she should’ve noticed the signs. Ivar was more around than he used to be, it wasn’t his normal behavior. Besides he was being a lot kinder than usual. As Torvi entered the great hall she noticed how lost in thoughts the queen was. „What is the matter?“ She said as she walked next to to sit down by her side. „Did you know about Ivar and my sister?“ Lagertha turned to Torvi catching the younger woman smile apologetic. „Ubbe said I wasn’t supposed to tell you, I apologize.“

As she heard giggles and laughter she could tell the four of them were coming closer, she prepared herself to confront her sister about this. But how was she supposed to? She was spying on her when she found out, not having had one good reason to walk out there in the woods except to check up on her actually being there. Ubbe was the first one to walk into the great hall, he noticed something was up when Torvi didn’t greet him right away. The girl was still outside giggling and whispering. Her whispers could be heard in the whole hall. Quietness settled in as the last three of them walked in, the girl walking a little behind but smiling brightly whenever Ivar would turn around to see if she was still there with him.

„Hello sister!“ The girl greeted and smiles brightly at Lagertha. The queen did not respond, making her feel uneasy as she glanced toward Ubbe, who sighed quietly looking down. Instantly the girl knew what was going on. Panicking she walked closer to her, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked back to Ivar in reassurance. „It isn’t like you think…“ Lagerthas raised an eyebrow making the girl feel even more uneasy. „Well then how is it? Because it looks like my sister is keeping secrets from me. Keeping secrets because she thinks I don’t want to see her happy or loved.“

The girl gasped softly wondering just how much her sister had seen. „Lagertha, I promise you I do not have any intentions behind my bond with your sister. It’s about her not about you or how you killed my mother.“ Ivar broke the silence looking at Lagertha with pure hatred but his eyes seemed to soften when he looked over at the girl standing close to her. The girl flinched at Ivars harsh words. The woman on the throne couldn’t stop herself from laughing. „I did not even think about that for a second Ivar, because you wouldn’t even be able to.“

„Sister, Ivar would be capable of ruling over Kattegat just as well as you are. His ideas for this village are incredible. If you would just listen to them you’d see how capable he would be to do everything he wanted to.“ With wide eyes the girl just realized what she said, covering her mouth she looked down. „I’m sorry I spoke out of tune.“ Lagertha studied her and saw a lot of how she acted because of Ragnar in her sister, smiling slightly. As her eyes wandered to Ivar, she caught him smirking, his eyes glistening with pride and love as his eyes wandered over her figure.

Getting of her throne Lagertha stopped only in front of her. Her hand went up to cup her cheek, making the girl flinch. The boy tried to crawl over to them making sure the girl stayed unharmed, but Ubbe held him back making the young boy fight against his hold. „He makes you happy, doesn’t he?“ Lagerthas voice was quiet as she smiled down at her sister softly. Nodding her head the girl looked back up at her. „More than anything.“ Her eyes held a sincerity that the woman saw rarely. She was a bit taken aback by her truthfulness. Of course, she was upset about it having to be Ivar. Hvitserk would’ve been easier to accept but sadly that’s not what happened. „How could it be him, he is cruel and no good for you, my sweet sister…“ She could see Ivar lowering his head, knowing that Lagertha was right about him being cruel, not being good enough for the girl.

„He wants to show me the world. He isn’t cruel, he is just easy to upset and in pain, Lagertha…“ Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how bad Ivars legs had been these past weeks. „The gods are cruel to him sometimes, so I pray. I pray to them to stop it and he starts to feel better. He is not a cruel man, Lagertha. He just isn’t!“ Her hands were trembling as she clenched them into fists. Lagertha could only stare at her in shock. For how long was their relationship kept a secret from her? „How long did you feel like this about him?“ She grew angry for being held in the dark that long. „All of this started a little over six months ago…“ The girls head hung low as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Looking at her hand she noticed a little mark on her ring finger looking over at Ivar she saw the same small mark on the same finger. „You’re thinking about marriage…“ She gasped quietly taking a step back from her sister. „I accept your decision, but I do not support it. Though I will give you my blessing only because I haven’t seen you happy like this in ages. You are my little sister and I love you and I want you to be loved. As much as I don’t like Ivar, I have to say that he truly seems to love you and care for you.“ Smiling widely the girl hugged her sister tightly, throwing her arms around her. „Thank you!“ She repeated those words until she turned to Ivar grinning at him shyly.

Ivar walked over to her cupping her cheek before he kissed her forehead and leaned his against hers. „I told it would work out somehow, my love. May the gods forbid anything would part us until we both are on our way to dine with the gods in Valhalla.“

Lagertha couldn’t fight the smile as she watched the both of them. Even though she disliked Ivar, she was certain he would treat her right. Maybe even better than Ragnar treater her. She could tell in his smile, in his eyes, in every action towards her sister, that he adored her.

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar fluff #ivar imagine #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar the king #ivar x you #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar vikings #ivar smut

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heavenlymorals · 1 year

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A Grave in Autumn

Summary: After getting a call from his wife that his youngest son is at the hospital and may not make it, Ragnar Lothbrok takes a moment to visit the grave of his dead daughter. If his son were to die, it wouldn't be his first rodeo.

Modern AUs are always so fun to read and so hard to write. I did have fun with this though 🍂 (Gyda deserved better-). Also, small headcanon, but I picture modern Ivar to be a least somewhat into goth fashion/culture. Where does this headcanon come from? From the fact that he had no fucking color in his wardrobe in the series.

All around him, the leaves were an ombre of red, orange, and yellow. The wind blew viciously across the branches and leaves fluttered all around him like sparks of tepid fire. The leaves would wisp all around him, clinging to his coat, to his hair, to his beard. Ragnar got annoyed and would pinch the wonderfully dead foliage and drop it mindlessly on the ground. The leaf, whether red or orange or yellow, would cover up the drab brown leaves that crunched loudly under each heavy footprint.

Autumn was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. All around him, he could see its beauty. Mother nature was a wonderful artist, no doubt. As far as Ragnar Lothbrok was concerned, no one could try to replicate her designs even if they wished to. Or maybe it was God’s design, who knew? He wore a golden cross with him almost all the time, a gift from his dearest friend Athelstan who either A. died a long time ago, or B. disappeared so he would never have to deal with the downward spiral that was Ragnar Lothbrok. If it was the latter, Ragnar couldn’t blame him. He was a toxic friend, a terrible person. Abandonment was far too kind of a fate for him.

He kept walking along the trail. It was dusty and old. It seemed that the church to whom the cemetery belonged fell on hard times. The trail wasn’t crisp in its lines. All around it, one could see the breaching of sickly dead weeds strangling the grass. They were now a yellowish color, which reminded Ragnar heavily of vomit. He would know. He used to drink a lot. Did crack a lot. He threw up many times, the aroma becoming dimmer and dimmer on his nose each time it happened. After a while, it simply became an inconvenience, like how muscles would get sore after a good day at the gym.

That was…terrifying, looking back at it, now, on the straight and narrow and sober. How he was so willing to overlook such significant things to escape his misery through artificial ecstasy. Getting high and getting drunk was his happiness. What made it worse was that he was still Ragnar Lothbrok, smart, lucky Ragnar Lothbrok, who could achieve whatever he wished. He was still running his business to a T. He was still making money. He was still skyrocketing into fame and fortune. Because of this, he couldn’t bring himself to care that this was wrong.

Sober. He’s sober now. He’d still drink now and then, but he was still sober. He’d never touch any recreational drug ever again.

As he kept walking across the trail, he came face to face with an iron fence. The fence itself was this fine between being of minimalist style and dabbling in the intricate gothic fashion that many cemeteries were fond of. As he opened the gate, it creaked loudly. Somewhat ought to oil the thing.

He kept walking across that dingy trail until all around him were a plethora of tombstones. He absent-mindedly made note of the shapes. Square-top headstones. Ogee headstones. Arc tops and check tops. The iconic cross headstones, becoming dull at the edges from the constant wind and rain. Some of the headstones had angels carved onto them. One of them caught Ragnar’s eye. The angel was in the image of a young girl. Her hair was adorned with thick, Grecian curls as she looked down at the grave ledger with her hands clasped together and her eyes closed in a solemn expression. Her dress cascaded down her in intricate folds and from the back, two small wings spread out delicately. The whole headstone was made of marble and the ledger was a polished black ingrained with gold.

It must have been expensive.

Ragnar sighed and continued walking, passing more tombs, some simple, some not. Some were clean and others were forgotten, as evidenced by the green moss and the stained brown that defiled them. He kept walking up the trail till he made it up to a secluded corner in the cemetery. There weren't any other tombs in this area, thus it looked almost abandoned. Shading the entire thing was a proud Norway Maple. It looked like it was on fire, with how bright it was. If he touched a leaf, he was sure that he might’ve burned his finger. The ravens seem fine though, cawing proudly and dancing on the branches. Fitting that the ravens were here. Ever a companion of death. Ever since ‘God’ and ‘Jesus’ weren’t the ones who held dominion over the heavens, but Odin and his brood.

The leaves fell again and covered what Ragnar was looking for.

A flat tombstone.

Perhaps it would make sense to know why he was looking for this unassuming little slab of rock. Why he was trekking through this cemetery. Why he gazed so intently on the guardian angel that prayed over that anonymous deceased.

A few days ago, he got a call from his wife, Aslaug. He used the term loosely. His marriage to Aslaug came from a place of practicality more than a place of love. He met the woman at a club and well, one thing led to another, and they slept together. Other than to relieve his hard-on with a beautiful woman, he also did it as an act of revenge. Before that fateful night, he learned that his wife, now ex-wife, Lagertha, had been sleeping with his brother while they were together and that his oldest son, Bjorn, might’ve never been his child. Thankfully, one discreet DNA check later revealed that Bjorn WAS his son, but Ragnar was still pissed. He slept with Aslaug, made it rather easy for Lagertha to figure out, and then left.

And being rather petty back then, he wasted no time courting Aslaug after he found out she was pregnant with his child and making her fall in love with him just as a final ‘fuck you’ to Lagertha. It rubbed salt in Lagertha’s wounds that Aslaug was pregnant as they tried many times after Bjorn’s birth to have another child but failed over and over again.

Looking back at it now, since he is older and at least somewhat wiser, he could only cringe at how childish he was, how needlessly petty.

In any case, he didn’t love Aslaug in the same way that he used to love Lagertha. He loved her as the mother of his children, but besides that? No. He didn’t love her. This then lead to many issues in their relationship, which could have contributed to his affairs with drugs and alcohol and her similar bouts with alcohol.

They managed to sort that whole business out, somehow. For now, they were simply married for convenience and neither of them was particularly keen on destroying that convenience.

Anywho, yes, he got a call from Aslaug and a deep pit of blackness threatened to consume him whole. He still remembered how the phone buzzed in his pocket, how he narrowed his eyes as he saw the caller ID, how he swiped to answer, all of that.

And how his heart sank as he received this terrible news.

“Ragnar?”

“Who else then? What’s going on, Aslaug?”

Silence on the other end of the line. He swore he could’ve heard a choked sound, one that came from a person trying to swallow their pain and misery.

“Aslaug?”

“It’s Ivar. Oh, God, it’s Ivar,” the mother of his children seemed frantic, hysteric. Her breathing came out ragged.

“What about him,” Ragnar asked, trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t even know what was going on.

“He was with Hvitserk. He was supposed to pick Ivar up from school. I don’t know what the hell they were doing, but they got into a crash. Hvitserk got out lucky with only a broken arm but Ivar- You know how fragile he is. The doctors are not sure if he’ll make it.”

Ragnar couldn’t bring himself to say much. Aslaug gave him the name of the hospital and that was that. He ended the call and quickly rushed into the closest car he could get to (Ubbe always muttered that he had too many cars), broke a couple of speed limits, and made it into the hospital.

It was a complete pain in the goddamn ass to get the workers to let him see his son, but eventually, he was escorted to a little hallway with shitty little plastic waiting chairs. Aslaug was not there at that moment. She went back to bring things for her boy when (if) he woke up. Ubbe was there, ever the responsible one, pacing back and forth, worry creased into his forehead, He always had that expression on, ever the worrier. He looked somewhat relieved when he saw Ragnar. Sigurd, to Ragnar’s surprise, was sitting on one of the chairs and crossed his arms. There was a look of worry on his pale face, and every now and then, he would look back at the sterile little room that housed his little brother. He didn’t bother to greet Ragnar. They didn’t have the best relationship (Ragnar’s fault, obviously) and Sigurd was a headstrong bastard, so there was little Ragnar could do to mend their relationship if Sigurd didn’t care to do so. Hvitserk was also sitting beside Sigurd and his face looked paralyzed in shock, fear, and worry. It had been a bit since Ragnar had seen Hvitserk in person, as his son seemed to inherit that addictive personality that Ragnar and his mother unfortunately had. He too fell into the vice of alcohol and drugs. A younger Ragnar probably would’ve blamed Hvitserk’s addictions on his lack of self-control and poor wisdom, but an older, somewhat wiser Ragnar, could sympathize with him. After all, he knew damn well that he had a part in Hvitserk’s benders.

Hvitserk would party a lot and he was an elusive little bastard too, so he couldn’t be found unless he wanted to be found. Somehow, someway, Ivar managed to get his older brother out of hiding and force him into rehab. He was doing well for a bit, until now it seemed.

Ragnar learned that Hvitserk was high as a kite when he was driving. Weed. He was supposed to pick up Ivar from school and bring him home.

And then this happened.

Ragnar looked at Hvitserk, at his sunken eyes, at his too-pale skin, at his greasy long hair, and wanted to scream at him for being such a stupid, stupid fool- What the fuck made him relapse like this?

He didn’t though. He didn’t scream at him. The horrified look on his face was enough for Ragnar to know that Hvitserk was already being punished enough by his own guilt. Ragnar could sympathize. He was a man who needed a good push to change, and for Ragnar, his push was the horrified expressions on Ubbe and Hvitserk’s faces when he tried to strangle his dealer for not giving him what he wanted. No, what he needed at that time. The girl, Yidu, quickly fled the scene and he was glad that she did. He would’ve killed her otherwise.

Perhaps Hvitserk’s push would be this.

Or maybe he would fall apart even further.

Time can only tell.

He sighed and sat next to Hvitserk, rubbing his face in his hands. Hvitserk didn’t even acknowledge him. His whole being seemed encased with ice, as he cradled his broken arm in his sling. Ragnar gently wrapped his arm around Hvitserk and Hvitserk all but sunk into his side.

A few moments later the doctor quietly said that they could see him, but only one at a time. Ubbe went first, then Sigurd, and then Ragnar. Hvitserk didn’t move an inch. Too guilty for his part in this mess.

Ivar’s life will never be one without complications. His youngest son was always going to have to live his life with some sort of complication. That was stamped on his head the second he was born with osteogenesis imperfecta, otherwise known as brittle bone disease. Now, Ivar was lucky in the sense that his OI wasn’t as severe as other cases, but it seemed to have taken a personal vendetta on his legs, as that was the part of him that was the most severely affected. Thanks to modern medicine and technology and whatnot, his legs are not as wasted as they could’ve been, but the breaks he suffered from them rendered him unable to walk without assistance.

As he walked into the room, he felt as if he was dumped with a bucket of ice water. His little boy looked so small to him in that bed, in that familiar hospital gown, with all those wires and bandages attached to him. His face was covered with a breathing mask and Ragnar would think he was dead if it weren’t for the soft beeping of the machines singing in the background and the one stereotypical screen of a green line zig-zagging up and down.

Ragnar felt overwhelmed with the same feeling that he had a million times over whenever Ivar had to go to the hospital. It never got better. He has been to hospitals so many times that he was honestly qualified enough to be a technician since he knew the machines so well. It never got any better and this time, it was worse, since this was the first time where the doctor was not entirely sure that his little boy will be ok.

He stayed for a while and left the hospital later when the sun became occulted by night.

He woke up the next day and went to go to the hospital but then did a detour to the old cemetery.

It wasn’t the first time he lost a child. He knows that Ivar isn’t dead, but he knew if he would be, it would be a similar feeling to how he felt all those years ago when he lost his sweet little girl, Gyda, and how he wasn’t able to say goodbye to her because he was out chasing his two-faced dreams and making his two-faced name. That broke him the most. That he wasn’t able to say goodbye to her. If Ivar was to go, at least he would be able to cope. It wouldn’t be his first rodeo, after all.

Sometimes, he thought about Gyda, about who she would be if she was given the chance to grow up. He sometimes had little dreams of a grown-up Gyda, who looked suspiciously like Lagertha except for dark hair and silver eyes, making him proud. In some dreams, she would jump into his arms with a diploma clutched in slender hands. In other dreams, she would proudly show off her successes in the fashion industry, as that was something he remembered his little girl obsessing over before she died. He tried to spoil her as much as he can back then, a father’s duty to his daughter, with whatever it is she wanted and that he could afford. If only he could spoil her now, with this multi-million (almost billion) dollar empire that he was able to procure with his blood, sweat, tears, and luck. A whole lot of luck.

What would Gyda think of her old man today, now that was the question. How would she feel knowing that the father that she knew, the doting father who was always a rock in a raging ocean, ever so stalwart, was not that same father for his other kids? Gyda and Bjorn were lucky in that regard. They knew their father before he became obsessed with material life. They knew the best version of their father. And he was still that father in the first few years of Ubbe and Hvitserk’s lives, but soon afterward, he became distant and aloof. He couldn’t lie to himself. He was a bad father to his four other children. He had his moments of course, but most of the time, he was just a filthy, junky mess, and whatever relationship he could’ve had with his sons were either nipped at the bud or so fragile that eggshells would seem like titanium.

Gyda would hate him, probably. He hated himself. He would probably continue hating himself till the end of times. For what he robbed of these poor boys, for how he left them to the wolves. If forgiveness would ever come from his sons, and Ragnar doubted it ever could, he would be able to die in the peace he never deserved.

He sighed. He kneeled and wiped away the leaves that occulted the name on the flat marker.

Gyda Lothbrok.

Ragnar felt guilt pierce through his heart when he saw the state of the thing. God, how long has it been since he has last been here? Or Lagertha? The stone was stained a sickly green, and some of the letters were discolored. As Ragnar looked at the marker, he thought about the more grandiose headstones that littered the cemetery. He then looked at this flat one, so unassuming and insignificant that he had to card through leaves for an entire two minutes before he could find the thing. She should’ve had a larger stone. One with an angel on it. She was an angel.

However, it felt sordid to think about digging her back up to give her a better stone at a better plot.

To make himself feel better, he would simply describe the headstone as humble. Yes, that. Humble. Gyda was a humble girl.

Ivar will get the angel, then, if he doesn’t make it. He’d probably like that, considering his recent adventures in the gothic macabre.

“Hello, Gyda…”

His voice felt strange to him. As if it didn’t belong to him. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited for a while.”

I’m sorry that I am only visiting because of the guilt I feel for my other sons. I am sorry that I am only visiting because I am not sure if my youngest, if my baby will survive. If he doesn’t, be kind to him, yes? He’s a stubborn boy.

He didn’t say that out loud.

The ravens kept cackling. The leaves kept stirring. Ragnar stayed there for a long time, speaking to this grave in cold Autumn before going back to the sterile haven of the hospital.

#vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ragnar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #modern ragnar lothbrok #modern ivar #modern hvitserk #modern ubbe #modern sigurd

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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 17

I'm back! I'm so sorry its taken me months to update. Life took a turn for the busy. During this time I've had people ask and I promise I have no intentions of abandoning this fic, even if it takes me months to update. I'm enjoying this story too much, and I hope you are too.

Also this chapter was a tough one to write. So I suggest you buckle up your seatbelts because the angst train is here since its Ivar's POV! Hopefully the length also makes up for the wait!

min skatt– my treasure

Words: 9400

Warnings: language, implied drug use, mild sexual content, brief mentions of violence, Ivar doesn't handle feelings well

Series Masterlist

Ivar fucked up.

He knew it. His family knew it. Hell, it might as well be broadcasted on global news at this point.

He had fucked up.

Severely.

That thick, tar-like feeling of betrayal had coated his nerve endings, dulled his mind and made his black heart stone-cold. The sensation of betrayal was not unusual, but he hated it. With every cell of his body, he loathed it. Anger was an escape, a way to get out of the suffocating void that betrayal tried to drown him in. So he latched onto the familiar burn of anger, a welcomed friend by this point in his life.

But when the fire burned out, when he could see past the comforting haze of red…it was to the sight of fear in Kari's blue-green eyes and tears running down her cheeks.

Immediately, he knew he fucked up in the worst way possible. And when she ran from him, he could not blame her. Even if every step she took away from him was a knife repeatedly to the gut. But her expressive eyes, they told him how badly he had messed up. She had dealt with plenty of his shit but this…this was the line crossed. He could not even get mad at her for it, for self-loathing had wrapped its tentacles around him and squeezed.

He had lost her. His gift from the gods. His kitten.

His Kari.

He vaguely remembered screaming and demanding his brothers and Floki release him. Could barely recall landing a solid punch to Sigurd that busted his knuckles and broke his brother's nose. Somehow he ended up on the floor whimpering her name with cold tears slipping from his eyes as Floki kept his arms wrapped around him, either to keep him restrained or to comfort, Ivar was unsure. But it did not matter.

In a single moment, he knew he had lost her.

And it was his own fucking fault.

When Ragnar returned later, Ivar could barely get words to come out, his tongue felt heavy and his stomach full of stones. His father had taken one look at him and sighed.

"Leave her alone. I told her you'd stay away. Don't make me fucking put security on you to keep away from her. She's got enough shit to deal with now."

Ivar nodded silently. Promising himself he would.

But the next day he broke that promise.

It was an all-consuming need to see her, to check on her, to make sure she did not despise him as much as he did himself. He tried to sneak away, however idiotic that was. A crippled bastard trying to sneak out of the house, where every footfall was as loud as a gong. Standing at the door, phone in hand to call a driver, Floki had found him. He took one look at the child of his heart and told him to get into his car. That he would drive him, but only this once.

Ivar was unsure what he had expected when choosing to visit Kari. Hell, he was not even sure she would be home. All he knew was at some point during the night, while he laid awake on his bed, sleep evading him like a mocking ghost, he knew he had to see her. Fuck what Ragnar said.

When she walked away, she had taken part of his heart with her. Whoever cliché that sounded, and he would never admit it aloud. Yet that was how it felt. And now he needed to know if he would ever get that blackened, bleeding organ back from her delicate, gentle hands.

In his mind, the best case scenario of his unexpected arrival would involve her running into his arms, him reassuring her he never meant to hurt her, immediately followed by hot make-up sex that lasted for hours.

The worst case scenario? He would walk in the door and she would shoot him. No…he would walk in the door and she would coldly tell him she never wanted to see him again, that whatever they had was over and how much she hated him. He would gladly take being shot instead of hearing her say anything like that.

What he walked in on- seeing her curled up on the couch, with red-rimmed eyes and tear stains on her cheeks- that felt like someone took a whip at what remained of his heart and attempted to shred it.

When he happened to notice the faintest discoloration along her jawline…the lashings began in earnest.

Then her words, her hesitation. It all tore at him.

"I need time, Ivar."

Another lashing of the whip.

But he absorbed the pain, welcomed it because he deserved every stroke. What he did was unforgivable, but somehow he hoped she would.

Gods, he hoped she could forgive him.

He did not linger, feeling his concrete reinforced composure cracking under the weight of his self-loathing and turmoil.

Thankfully, Floki never said a word when Ivar reentered the car. Nor did he question when Ivar put in a food order to be delivered to Kari.

Afterwards, the entire drive was silent.

Back at the house, he could feel Floki's shrewd gaze on him but he ignored it. He only spared his brothers a glance before retreating to his room. To the isolation and darkness there. To where he could cry without anyone seeing.

At some point that despair morphed into anger and before he realized it, he found himself in the home gym. He had no recollection of walking out of his room and to the gym. But in the moment, it did not matter. All he cared about was ruthlessly pounding on the punching bag.

All of his self-loathing. All of his anger directed at himself, at his family, at the whole fucking world. All of his pain and despair. All for it he poured into his punches. Each slam of his fist on the fabric drained a little more from the reservoir overflowing inside of him.

When his bones broke under the onslaught, he never relented.

As blood splattered the bag, the floor and himself, he persevered.

His whole vision had tunneled into needing to feel the pain, into pouring out his frustration. He breathed in the pain and let it wash over him.

He was not one for going to church, none of the Lothbroks were. But this. Each punch. Each sharp stab of pain. Each coating of blood flying from his own body. It all felt like a penance. It was no Hail Mary or Our Father. But this was even more raw, more real for Ivar.

For he knew blood. He knew pain.

What better way to atone for his sins than to punish himself with both?

He was unsure how long he slaved away at his personal penance until they found him.

Ubbe and Hvitserk pinned him to the floor. His blood stained their hands. His heart and lungs were in overdrive yet his mind was blissfully silent. He could vaguely hear Floki say something about a broken hand and they needed to take him to the hospital.

The rest of the night was spent with nurses and doctors, x-rays and a black cast on his hand and forearm. The sterile smell of the hospital burned his nose. The grating voices of the hospital staff asking questions and reading his extensive records irritated him.

But he kept silent.

All he could hope for, all he could pray for, was his atonement could somehow make up for his sins. That his blood shed could replace the pain he caused.

That his offering would be enough.

*****

The following day he spent in solitude. No matter how many times someone knocked on his door, he never answered. The one time Hvitserk tried to stick his head in, Ivar threw a drinking glass at him. Immediately after, Ivar cursed himself for the now shattered glass on the carpet. He knew he was acting pitiful yet he could not seem to rise above the deep well of depression and its thick cords wrapped around his body, dragging him further into its dark depths.

The only person he willingly chose to answer was his mother, but that was more out of self-preservation when she continuously called him for three minutes straight without stopping. The conversation had been brief and then he returned to watching TV while laying on his bed, trying his hardest to ignore the cast on his right hand and forearm and how much it fucking sucked to deal with.

At some point during the day, he had tossed his phone across the room, uncaring whether it broke or not. The temptation, the need, to text Kari, to call her, to profusely apologize and beg for her forgiveness was too much. She said she needed time. So he was going to damn well give it to her.

Fuck, if he could just forget it all for a while. Instead of drowning in thoughts of her. Of his self-loathing. Of how he always fucked up the best things in his life.

The next day an idea came to mind, a way to find a temporary reprieve from the swirling vultures of his thoughts.

He just needed his brother's help.

*****

Ivar and Hvitserk settled back onto the couches, the short table in front of them already with beers waiting for their pleasure. The loud thumping from the bass of the club's speakers could be felt in Ivar's chest. The shrill cries of the inebriation mixed with excitement filled the air as much as the music.

He pointedly ignored the fact, this was the very place he first met Kari and became consumed by her.

Ivar's fierce blue eyes scanned the crowd from his advantageous position about the main floor. For a Sunday night, the dance floor was packed and the line along the bar was full. He wondered if there was a special event or celebration causing it to be busier than normal. Not that he truly cared. The more people the better for his plan.

"So why are we here, Ivar?"

He looked over at his flaxen-haired brother. "I needed to get out."

"Yeah? Well I'm personally shocked this is the place you'd choose." Hvitserk waved to someone walking by that called his name but swiftly returned his attention to his younger brother. "So why are we here?"

"I told you–"

"And I'm calling bullshit, Ivar."

Ivar scoffed, taking a long draw of the beer in front of him. Only after initially reaching for the beer with his right hand and belatedly remembering it was in a cast before grabbing it with his left. It was a miracle he had not needed surgery for all the broken bones in his hand and wrist. The dumbass that he was, he had not even thought to wrap his hands before pummeling the punching bag. But what was another surgery to him? What was more broken bones to his crippled body? Physical pain was his closest companion. But this constant ache in his heart, this roiling torment, it was more than he could bear.

Hvitserk sighed. "I know you're hurting– don't give me that look, asshole– it's obvious to everyone with eyes. Look, if you wanted to just get drunk, we could have done that at home. So why are we here? Do you need a distraction? Someone to suck your cock? Is that why we're here?"

Ivar leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, mirroring his brother's pose. "I need something to get me out of my fucked up mind for a while."

"Okay…I'll go order a bottle of–"

"No," Ivar interrupted, "I need something else. I need the good stuff, Hvits."

Hvitserk blinked for a moment before immediately shaking his head and leaning back, as if distancing himself emphasized his refusal. "Ivar, no."

Ivar waited a second before continuing. "You know who has the best quality, who doesn't fuck around."

"Ivar….I don't do that anymore–I won't…not this."

The youngest Lothbrok understood his brother's hesitation, his wariness. It was a closely concealed secret of their family about Hvitserk's prior drug addiction and how it had almost killed it. He had been clean for close to two years now, but Ivar knew he still had connections even if he did not partake in the sampling anymore.

Ivar continued to stare at his older brother, just waiting. He knew he was an absolute, selfish bastard for asking this favor. Hvitserk had tried to protect his youngest brother as much as possible while he struggled with his addiction, and this was the one dark spot in Hvitserk's life that he tried to forget about or ignore. But right now, Ivar would do whatever necessary to get a break from his emotional pain. Including lying to his brother.

Hvitserk ran a hand down his face. "Just this once."

"Just this once." Ivar agreed.

He stood up, giving Ivar one more long look as if hoping Ivar would change his mind. When Ivar only stared back, Hvitserk shook his head, and wandered off with a "stay here" over his shoulder.

The dark-haired Lothbrok leaned back on the couch, arms across the back and surveyed the crowd once again. Years ago he had experimented with different substances, usually alongside Hvitserk, but while his brother enjoyed the sensations, Ivar did not. His mind was his greatest weapon, his most prolific asset. He disliked having his senses affected and his mind sluggish or useless. There had also been one too many accidents that left him in the hospital due to broken bones or lacerations that made him rethink the continued use. He did not mind getting a buzz from drinking, it was almost an obligation during family events, but he still felt in control then.

Tonight though, he wanted out of his head. Even for a little while.

Feeling eyes on him, his predatory gaze shifted towards the half stairs leading up to the restricted seating area. His blue eyes locked with a pair of bright green ones, belonging to a blonde with a black and gold dress that hugged her fit form like it had been painted on. He continued to watch her, curious to see what she would do next. Instead of looking away, she met his gaze head-on, running a finger along the low neckline of her dress.

A smirk grew on Ivar's face as he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her over.

It did not take long until his cock was down her throat.

He allowed the sweet bliss to fill him, to cloud his mind and focus on the pleasure her skilled tongue gave him. But even then, it was still Kari's name on the tip of his tongue when he came.

*****

Darkness swaddled Ivar in its cocoon of warmth, keeping him safe and at peace. Here, nothing mattered. In the darkness, he was nothing and everything. A serenity floated through and around him, even when his dreams were caked in blood and screams. Nothing could touch or harm him….

….until the abrupt sensation of cold water splashed across his face, delivering him back to the realm of the living.

"Fuckkkk….what the fuck?" Ivar groaned after jerking awake and wiping the water off this face. Now his pillow was wet. Whoever disturbed him was going to fucking die. Well, once the pounding in his head, echoing his heartbeat, stopped and pain no longer flared behind his eyelids. Fuck, the nausea churning in his gut threatened to escape its weak confines. His stomach itself was attempting to claw its way out of his body. Why did everything fucking hurt? What kind of hangover from hell was this?

"Mmm….what's going on, baby?" A sleep-laced, feminine voice said from beside him.

Her voice grated against his ears, only intensifying the psychotic marching band that had taken up residence in his brain. "Shut the fuck up." He growled as he screwed his eyes shut.

A signature giggle came from the end of the bed, quickly followed by, "does your head hurt? That's a shame."

Fuckkkkkkkk……

Silently, Ivar begged all the gods he knew of to kill him now. He could not deal with that deranged madman today. His whole body was revolting against him at the moment. Even his thoughts staggered and rolled like a drunken sailor onboard a ship. Why was everyone talking so loudly? Was it even possible for sound to hurt this much?

Of course, because the universe hated him and despised him since birth, the feminine voice began shrieking and flailing about on the bed. The hammers striking against his brain with each heartbeat magnified their strength, as if wielded by gods themselves. He groaned loudly, digging the heels of his hands into his forehead, wishing death on everyone who dared to make a single sound.

Finally, when he could not take her wordless panicking anymore, he rolled over (his stomach reminding him of the physical revolt it was currently throwing) and slapped his hand harshly over the woman's mouth.

"Shut up!"

After a moment, he could feel her give a slight nod and only then did he release her. With that, he finally opened his eyes. The morning light blazed through the window, the curtains fully drawn back allowing maximum light into the room. His eyes slammed shut once more, refusing to suffer another level of torture.

"Fucking sadists." He mumbled, pressing his face back into his damp pillow. He must have spoken loud enough because that signature giggle followed his statement, sending another wave of pain shooting through his brain.

Fingers abruptly started running through his hair and down his bare back. An attempt at soothing him but instead it did the opposite. His body stiffened and his fists clenched even as he laid face down on the bed.

"Don't touch me." He hissed through clenched teeth.

The fingers stilled.

Carefully he tilted his head and peeked over at the woman beside him. What he saw made him immediately regret it and curse his subconscious desires. She had brown hair that most likely had been straightened last night but was now sleep-tousled, with hints of curls returning. The mascara and eye shadow around her blue eyes was smudged. Full lips sat under a small, straight nose.

Wordlessly, Ivar turned away from her and felt his heart crack at the sight. He knew what it was and hated what his drunk self had done. With just that single glance, he knew his drunk self had chosen her for the faint similarities she had with Kari. Apparently his subconscious would only bring someone like her into his bed now. Gods, what was fucking wrong with him?

"Get out."

"What?" She questioned softly, her hand still on his shoulder.

He turned his head to glare at her. "Fucking leave."

"But baby…you said last night that you needed me. You made me promise to stay."

And there was the knife twisting in his gut, but he ignored the pain. He needed her and her irritating touch gone. He needed to wallow in his pain alone and without someone to remind him of his mistakes. Why the fuck would his drunk self pick her? What kind of masochist was he?

He closed his eyes, no longer willing to look at her. Someone that would never fulfill the throbbing ache in his chest. "Leave or I'll gut you."

He could sense the warring within her, the confusion and hesitation, and he wondered what else he had blathered at her about last night. What lies and promises had he spewed at her, even if it was truly another person those words were meant for.

"I suggest you go. I'm not in the mood to clean up blood today." Another bodiless voice said from somewhere in the room.

Ivar turned his head towards the voice but kept his eyes closed. "Hvits?"

"Morning, brother."

"Ugh. Fuck you."

His brother's answering chuckle made Ivar want to stab someone. Repeatedly.

The bed began to shift as the Kari look-alike started to get out, but when she tugged on the blanket to cover her nakedness, Ivar yanked the blanket back. He heard the quiet, surprised gasp but there was no remorse in him. She could parade naked down to the lobby for all he gave a shit. Shuffling and footsteps followed a clicking of what he assumed was the bathroom door.

"Here, you ungrateful bastard. Move that ass."

Ivar rolled over and carefully sat up. The room spun like a carnival ride and he held his head for a long moment, swearing and cursing amidst the pain. Once he was able to overcome the rising nausea, he accepted the water and pills, knowing he needed them since he doubted the two intruders would leave him alone anytime soon. Damn them.

As he sipped on the water, the bathroom door opened. The woman came out, wearing a maroon dress that looked like someone had taken artistic license to while wielding a knife. She met his eyes, holding one black heel. But whatever she was hoping for, Ivar refused to give her. He slid his gaze away from her, focusing straight ahead and the ugly artwork in the hotel room he found himself in. What hotel was this? It did not look familiar. He heard her scoff and her footsteps move towards the door.

"Hvitserk, help her out." The asshole said, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Sure."

After the door closed, a pregnant silence fell on the two left in the hotel room. Ivar continued to sip on the water, staring straight ahead. The throbbing in his head felt relentless and his body ached as if he had gone a few rounds in the boxing ring. He thought about asking for someone to close the curtains, but his companion began speaking and it overshadowed his internal pain.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I lost my daughter in the woods?" Floki quietly asked.

Ivar's ears perked up, even as he kept staring forward. Floki hardly talked about his only child. Ivar had vague memories of her, influenced by his own young age since they were born a year apart. But he could never forget how at four years old she had died from leukemia. One of his earliest solid memories was watching Floki silently weeping as he cradled a hysterical Helga to his chest, his eyes never straying from the pyre he had built for his daughter's body.

Without waiting for Ivar's answer, he continued. "Hmmm….it was one of the few times she wasn't in the hospital. She was like her mother, always wanting fresh flowers, listening to the birds' sing, smiling at the sun. It was…" He sighed, and Ivar could hear the pain and regret in the man's voice.

"I needed a new tree for a boat and I promised she could come with me. She was so small for her age, so fragile. I got distracted…found the perfect tree and was measuring it. But that was long enough for her to wander off. The panic I felt, Ivar, I can't tell you the complete goddamn terror I experienced as I tried to find my little girl. When she didn't reply as I screamed her name…I thought she'd–" This time he shook his head. "I finally found her, watching birds in the trees above. I scolded her severely, made her cry, but then I hugged her like my life depended on it. I'll never forget the terror I felt that day. Even though it's been over twenty years and she's been gone just as long. I'll never forget." The last sentence came out in a whisper, an audible ode to the harrowing event.

The next several seconds passed in silence before Ivar broke it. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Do you know what day it is, Ivar?"

"What? Why does that fucking matter?"

Floki reached out his long arm and swatted the side of Ivar's head. "Because you selfish, crippled bastard, you've been missing for thirty hours."

"The fuck–'"

"Ivar, listen," Floki interrupted before Ivar could question the validity of the statement. "The gods may have taken my daughter but they gifted me you as a son. And the fear I felt when Hvitserk told me he couldn't find you and you weren't answering your phone…I should beat your ass. I'm too old to deal with this shit anymore."

Ivar sat mutely, his mind reeling with everything Floki had said. How could he be missing for that long? That made no sense. He remembered going to the club with Hvitserk and his brother bringing him the chosen poison and deliverance he had practically begged for. Then there was a girl with blue eyes….or were they green? He could vaguely recall, like looking through a cloudy window, talking with someone about how they had more of the good stuff at their apartment. He remembered huge tits in his face and a woman moaning his name above him.

He glanced down at his right hand, seeing the cast on it still. There were new drawings and several phone numbers on it now from a bright silver marker. Why could he not remember any of that? When did he arrive at the hotel? What kind of shit had he been on?

Logically, he knew Floki had every right to scold him. It was a miracle it was not Ragnar himself chastising him. All the Lothbroks knew that with their rise in power and business accomplishments, it also painted a target on their backs for any that would seek to undermine or destroy them. For one of them to go missing…that would become paramount. Everything else would screech to a staggering halt until the missing person was returned. And for it to be him…with the vast wealth of information and security locked away in his mind. It could easily eradicate the company and their family if that knowledge was given to the wrong person.

As if sensing where Ivar's thoughts led, Floki softly spoke. "Your father doesn't know. He thinks you've been holed up at home. Hvitserk came to me."

A whoosh of air expelled from his lungs, draining the staggering concern and stress that had momentarily crashed over him. "Thanks." He murmured.

"I know you're hurting. You can't deny what my old eyes see. So I've one question for you…what in the hel are you doing, boy?"

"What are you–"

Floki swatted his head again. "Have you numbed the pain? Do you feel better now?"

"Fuck off. You don't know–"

"And that's where you're wrong again, foolish child. I do know." He leaned forward, forcing Ivar's gaze to meet his, the bed shifting under the movement. "What happened with Kari? I drove you there, if you can even remember. I didn't push you then, but I think I damn well deserve an answer. Saved your dumbass from punching through the bag and now this….what happened?"

Ivar flinched but knew the father of his heart was correct. Especially with it just being the two of them, he knew he could speak freely. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words stuck there. What agony he had tried to temporarily escape flooded him. Wave after wave slammed into his chest, especially with the reminder that even drunk and high, he still craved her. Waking up to find someone not her beside him. The pounding in his head was subsiding but now his heart took the brunt of the pain.

Ripping his gaze away from Floki's, he stared down at the empty cup in his hand. His thoughts and memories swirled and clashed, like an intricate swordplay. But those edges were live and sharp, cutting and slashing at him with every pass. Her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. The fear and pain in her eyes. The mark he left on her. The self-loathing that threatened to shatter his control. The desperate need to forget and escape. Pain and blood. Gods, he has fucked up.

Why did he always fuck everything up?

"She said she needed time." He whispered. "She said….fuck– I can't remember everything, but she didn't want to see me. She said….she knows I'm sorry but she still needed time." His eyes blurred, tears welling in them, as he finally looked back up at his companion. Thick emotion choked his throat, making it hard to speak. "What if she…Floki, I can't lose her. I can't–"

Floki gathered Ivar into his arms and just held him as he cried. The youngest Lothbrok could not remember the last time someone held him as he cried like this, his body quivering with the sobs ripped from his very soul. Most likely his mother or Floki, but that would have been years ago. For he had learned to wrap himself in his anger, allowing his fury to be the suit of armor needed to protect him from the world and all the ways it attempted to rend him apart.

But then she walked into his life, with her soft curves, kind heart and ability to see past all his barriers, to see past the thorns and thistles wrapped around his blackened heart, to hear the faint beating there, and to cherish its sound. For her to choose him, to want him for simply being Ivar.

He was undone by her. And yet, he had never felt more powerful and happy than when he was with her.

Eventually his tears subsided, draining him completely. He leaned back against the headrest of the bed as Floki went to refill his water cup. His body still ached, his stomach unsteady and his head hurt from the hangover and from the crying. It felt like someone had stuck a hose in him and sucked all the vitality out of him, leaving him a dry husk of who he should be, or rung out like a rag and tossed onto the floor to be trampled.

Floki handed over the new cup of water, settling back onto the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, Ivar drank it slowly, even as he suppressed the urge to just chug it. He was not that stupid. It would most likely come back up. And he despised the taste of vomit.

Of course, the old man delved into a new level of cruelty. Instead of sitting silently and allowing Ivar time to recover, he resumed speaking.

The asshole.

"How do you think Kari would feel if she found you like this? Hmmm?" He asked thoughtfully, as if they were speculating about the weather. "Think she'd take your ass back seeing you hungover like this? Or hearing about all the women you apparently fucked? Hmmm? Why should she want you after this?"

Shame rolled in his gut, rising with the nausea he could taste in the back of his throat. "She doesn't want me anymore."

Floki swatted his head again. "Damn foolish boy, can't see past his own nose."

"Stop fucking hitting me." Ivar growled.

"Oh, I'll hit you enough times until you start using that brain of yours." Floki leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, a calculating look in his eyes as he observed the dark-haired Lothbrok. "You want her back?"

Ivar furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?"

"You still want her, yes?"

"What kind of dumb, fucking question is that? She's the reason I–"

"Yes or no, Ivar."

"Yes!" Ivar threw the cup, hearing it hit the nearby wall but kept his gaze locked on Floki's, a tension swirling around them like a rising tide. "Fuck! Yes, I need her! Gods, I miss her so much it hurts!"

"Good." Floki nodded. "You want her back. Now prove it."

"But she said…"

"Yes, yes, she needs time. That doesn't give you the excuse to fuck off and be a disaster. She could still choose you…." Floki's calculating gaze intensified, immediately making Ivar uneasy, "....but not if you're like this. I'll keep her away from you myself if you keep this shit up."

"You wouldn't."

Floki giggled. "Think I won't? I might not know her well, but I do know she deserves better than this." He accused, gesturing to Ivar.

And he was right.

Fuck.

Ivar had always known Kari deserved better than someone like him. She was too pure. Too good. She was the bright, summer sunshine and he was the devastating, dark storm waiting on the horizon. And now…gods, would she even look at him if she knew the self-destruction he had spiraled into because he could not handle her loss? The potential of her rejection. Would she pity him? Would she become even more fearful of him? Would she hate him?

Would she feel betrayed if she knew he had picked someone that looked like her to blindly fuck in a drunken attempt to alleviate his misery? Shit…she would probably never speak to his sorry ass again. And why should she? He had raged at her when hearing she had gone out on a date and here he had been fucking any woman he could.

Why would she want him now? What goddamn right did he had to demand of her loyalty if he could not give his own?

And yet he still wanted her. Still needed her. Would do whatever it took to win her back. To prove how much she meant to him. Even after all the shit he had done. It was still her he thought of constantly, that he wanted by his side, that he wanted to talk to and listen to her laugh, that he wanted to kiss and hold and make love to. Even if fucking was the only thing he knew. He wanted to learn how to make love with her. Floki said to prove it. But how? And the answer to that eluded Ivar.

Slowly, Ivar shifted his gaze back to meet the piercing eyes watching him. He sighed quietly before speaking. "What do I do?"

Floki studied him for a long moment before smiling. "You're coming home with me to Norway. Helga has been asking when you're coming to stay and I want you to see my new boat."

Ivar thought about it then shrugged. "Fine." It was probably the best place for him at the moment anyway.

"Yeah, you ungrateful bastard. I'd drag your ass there anyway. My Helga always gets what she wants."

"You're whipped, Floki."

"Yeah, so are you."

Ivar groaned at the shit-eating grin on Floki's face but could not deny it. Not this time. With all his confessions and actions, it would be futile to try and deny it.

Pushing himself off the bed, Floki started to search around the hotel room. "Where's your clothes, boy?"

"Stop calling me that."

"When you stop acting like a spoiled brat, I will."

"Fuck off."

"No, we've got a plane to catch and I highly doubt you can walk a straight line."

"Fuck me." Ivar groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in resignation while Floki's giggles filled the room.

It took some time for Floki to locate all of Ivar's things. Thankfully, Ivar still had his pants on. Not that it surprised him. Even drunk and high, apparently his subconscious still was overly aware of the state of his mangled legs and did not want others to see them. Amidst copious amounts of swearing, Floki plying him with an excessive amount of water, and only one trip to the bathroom to puke up half of the contents of his stomach, the two of them finally made it out of the hotel.

The morning sunlight burned Ivar's eyes as he stepped outside, refueling the hammering in his head. Squinting, he could see Hvitserk standing just off to the side of the door, smoking a cigarette. Without a word, he moved to join his brother.

"You look like shit." Hvitserk greeted him. "Smell like sex and vodka."

Ivar took the offered cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling it curl in his lungs. "It's an improvement over what you always look like."

His brother snorted, taking the cigarette back. "Here." He handed over a pair of sunglasses.

With a nod of thanks, Ivar slipped them on gratefully.

"Don't ever pull this shit again. I was worried." Hvitserk stated as he handed the cigarette back over.

"I know. I think Floki will kill me if I do."

"Slowly and painfully!" The asshole yelled out from where he stood a few paces away on the phone.

Hvitserk chuckled while Ivar rolled his eyes.

"You good?"

Ivar thought about his answer, about all the revelation he had received up in the hotel room and what all Floki had said to him. He answered softly, "I will be."

Hvitserk hummed. "Might want to get tested soon. The number of girls who sucked your cock at the club….if I wasn't so pissed at you, I'd say you deserve an award. Then you fucked off when I walked away and I couldn't fucking find you."

Ivar smirked, as he finished off their now shared cigarette, dropping the butt to the ground and watching Hvitserk step on it.

The three of them loaded up in Hvitserk's car and headed towards the brothers' house. Head against the window, eyes closed during the drive, Ivar listened to Floki's words replay over and over in his mind. How could he 'prove it'? What did that even mean?

He decided to analyze that more later when he was not hungover and exhausted.

Once they finally made it back to the house, Ivar trudged to his room, ignoring the sounds of his family. What in the hell were they doing here in the late morning? Making a quick side trip to vomit once more then pop some strong pain pills he kept in his bathroom, he grabbed a few essentials from his room to bring with him to Floki's.

Over the years, one of the spare bedrooms in Floki's house had become Ivar's since he spent so much time with them, especially as a child. It was the only place Aslaug would allow her youngest to go without her ever-watchful eyes on him. With the frequency and duration of time spent there, it had become easier to leave a decent amount of clothing and other personal belongings to await his return.

With a backpack slung over his back, he grabbed his cane and his computer bag. That would be sufficient for now. If he needed something later, it would not be hard to have his father or brothers deliver it to him.

Voices coming from the kitchen drew his attention and he headed that way after exiting his bedroom. He could hear Ubbe arguing with someone and mild shock spilled over him to hear Gyda. What the fuck was she doing here? And who the hell pissed her off so badly? However much she tried not to associate with the Lothbrok business and keep herself clear of all that entailed, she was certainly a Lothbrok through and through. Her temper alone was evidence of that.

Stepping into the kitchen, he could see Gyda squaring off to Ubbe, hands on her hips and tension coating every inch of her body. Ubbe stood meeting her gaze head-on, arms over his chest. Hvitserk and Floki stood off to the side, seemingly watching the verbal sparring take place with no intention to intervene. Of course, Hvitserk had food in his mouth, one of his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Hearing his footsteps and cane tapping as he entered the room, all eyes focused on him. Before he could question what was going on, the tall, blonde female practically flew across the room to shove him. It was only through sheer instinct and luck that he managed to only stumble backward and not lose his balance, having to drop his computer bag to reach out for a nearby wall to steady himself.

"What the fu–"

"If you lay a finger on Kari again, I swear I will castrate you…" Gyda spat through gritted teeth with a vengeful fire blazing in her eyes. "...and then I'll cut off all your fingers, one by one. I don't give a single fuck that you're family. You hurt her again, I WILL come for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Ivar slowly enunciated, fury boiling in his chest at her threats. But for once, he kept his anger in check.

"Good." She took a step back, hands returning to her hips. It was now she eyed him critically, as if seeing him for the first time. "Holy hell, you do look like shit. I'm still pissed enough I'll beat your sorry ass with your own cane though."

"Gyda, leave him alone, alright?" Ubbe said, coming around the large kitchen island. "You delivered your message, that's enough now."

Any other time, Ivar might have sneered at Ubbe attempting to be the peacemaker in the family, like always. But right now, he was too exhausted, too heartsore, too grateful for his older brother stepping in to say anything. It was taking all the miniscule strength he barely possessed to not lash out at Gyda, even if a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Gyda was only standing up for her friend. He met Ubbe's eyes for a moment, hoping he could see the thanks in them before dropping his eyes to his cane in hand.

Floki came over to his side, picking up the dropped computer bag. "Ready?"

He just silently nodded. The frustration and anger coiled and burned in his chest but he bit his tongue for once. Gyda had every right to be pissed at him. Part of him wondered who told her about what happened between him and Kari.

Without a word, Ivar started towards the front door, Floki by his side. The two of them were almost to the door when Hvitserk called out his name, drawing closer.

"Don't stab me, but I'm going to hug you." Hvitserk quickly informed him before doing exactly that. And to both of their astonishment, Ivar readily reciprocated the hug. Neither of them acknowledged the tight grip Ivar had on Hvitserk's shirt, as if in that moment, his brother's touch was the only thing keeping him from crumbling.

"I'll keep an eye on her. I promise." Hvitserk whispered, pulling back enough to press his forehead against his youngest brother's.

"Thanks." Ivar murmured, although it came out more as a strangled croak.

Emotions rising and warring inside him, alongside the unrelenting hangover, he trudged towards the car waiting outside for them. Seeing which driver it was waiting for them, Ivar was thankful it was one that preferred silence instead of background music. Minutes later, they were on the road, heading to the airport and the private Lothbrok plane waiting for them there.

With eyes closed once again, he could not tear his thoughts away from Kari. Not after Hvitserk's comment.

He wondered what she was doing. Was she working today? Had her cramps gotten better? What was she thinking about? Did she miss him yet? It was now he realized how much he looked forward to their conversations, even if it was just over texting. She always made him smile somehow. His own personal sunshine amidst the dark clouds and storm that was his life. His kitten. Did he brighten her day as much as she did his?

An idea popped into his mind and without overthinking it for once, he acted on it.

Less than five minutes later, a bouquet of tulips was on its way to her with his message.

He turned the screen off his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. Gods, he prayed she liked the flowers. She had said they were her favorite. She would be less likely to toss them in the garbage then, right? Fuck. He hoped she liked the gesture, that it brightened her day.

Floki's advice still swirled in his mind, like a maelstrom. Kari had told him to stay away, that she needed time. He could– no, he would honor that. She needed space from him. And she deserved it. But that did not mean he was going to let her go. Fuck that shit. He needed her. He silently swore to himself to do everything possible to show her how sorry he was for his actions and how much he missed her.

To prove how much she meant to him.

*****

Ivar stared out at the gorgeous scenery spread out before him like a painting masterpiece. The steep walls of the Norwegian fjord rose above the glittering blue river. The trees appeared ablaze with what was left of autumn's colors, transforming summer's green to something warmer. A deception to the present chill in the air, a taste of the coming winter. He could practically feel the impending cold in his bones.

His thoughts though were miles away from the picturesque scenery before him. He tapped his phone absent-mindedly against his leg with his left hand, since his right was still in its cast. Which was thankfully back to its original black and without random phone numbers in it. It had only taken a call to the local hospital to have them willing to redo his cast without any questions. One of the many times Ivar appreciated how easily he could use his name to bypass regulations and rules.

"Did you decide yet?"

"Yeah." A small smile turned up the corners of his lips. "I ordered the Armani sweater and Dior jacket."

Helga settled onto the wooden Adirondack chair next to Ivar's, her blonde hair catching in the faint breeze. "I bet she'll love them."

"Hopefully."

"Of course she will." She leaned over, whispering conspiracingly. "Think Floki will buy those for me?"

He chuckled. "If he doesn't, I will."

Laughing, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I've missed having you here. Even if most of the time, you've been holed up in your room on your laptop."

He rolled his eyes at her pointed look. "I've been working."

"I know. Floki told me. I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping."

His brows pinched together as he tried to figure out how she knew that. Helga typically turned in early and rose with the dawn, quite opposite of Ivar who was a night owl. Aware of that, he made sure to be as quiet as possible when moving around the house, not wishing to disturb her or Floki when he finally retired for the night. At that point, he usually returned to his room but would remain awake for hours more, face illuminated by his computer or phone as he worked feverishly. If he let his mind wander freely too much, it would descend into solemn depths, he would rather avoid.

"Floki told me. He hears you moving around–"

"That asshole never sleeps either." Ivar muttered.

"--and those bags under your eyes are looking like you got into Floki's 'war paint'."

He smirked as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. "If I hide it again, what do you think he'll do?"

"Knowing what happened last time you stole it and drew penises all over the side of his shed….gods, what were you? Fifteen?" She shook her head, unable to fully restrain the amused, fond smile on her face, highlighting the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.

He grinned mischievously. "I was thirteen, but it was all Hvitserk's idea though."

"Uh huh. I highly doubt that."

The door opening had both of them turning their heads to see Floki stepping out onto the back deck. He stepped out in his usual brown pants and dark, long-sleeve shirt, the tattoos on the sides of his head clearly visible. He must have finished shaving his head before coming out. Ivar silently wondered if Floki and Helga even noticed anymore that their attire always seemed to match in some way. Today, Floki's shirt was a dark, forest green, the color matching Helga's dress, even as it was covered in a floral design. Maybe they were so in tune with one another by this point in their decades long marriage, it was instinctual or unconscious.

A stray thought drifted through Ivar's mind, questioning if Kari and himself would ever be like that….he quickly brushed it away.

"He lives!' Floki gestured towards Ivar as he came closer. "I thought you'd finally died from glaring at your laptop. Save us all from your complaining and moaning. I was preparing to drag your crippled, scrawny ass down and throw you in a funeral boat."

"Like an old, fat fucker like you could carry me."

"Ivar, language!" Helga chastised.

"You see the abuse I have to deal with, min skatt?" Floki plopped on the arm of Helga's chair, wrapping his arm around her and faux pouting. "And I even shared my Brennivín with him."

She poked his side, making him giggle. "You just wanted an excuse to open the new bottle."

He hummed, noncommittally, before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to his wife's lips.

Ivar dropped his gaze to his lap. Not because he was uncomfortable with their displays of affection, but because it made his heart ache. He had that and he fucked it up. He had someone to hold and kiss and tease, but he allowed himself to become blinded by perceived betrayal instead of trusting her. Someone who had only ever been genuine and selfless with him.

It was almost a week and a half since he destroyed whatever it was that was blooming between them, something he had never experienced before but craved now with every cell in his deformed body. Six days had passed since he arrived in Norway with Floki.

He had not heard from his kitten since she had texted him in thanks about the food he ordered when he found her on the couch. He could not think about it too much or he knew he would drive himself mad again. The gaping hole in his chest still bled her name, weeped with missing her touch.

He appreciated Floki returning home with him. There was a peace here, tucked away in the woods outside Kattegat, that he had never found anywhere else. Not even in his childhood house in the city. Maybe it was the location? Maybe it was the two people who filled it with pieces of themselves and transformed it from a house to a home? Whatever it was, Ivar was grateful to be here.

The only problem was the silence at night that pursued him. His demons of regret, self-loathing and insecurity stalked him in the darkness, wrapping their claws around his throat to strangle whatever buds of hope tried to blossom in his cheat.

So he threw himself into his work. Ignoring his body screaming for sleep until he passed out from exhaustion or drinking with Floki. He continued to monitor the traitorous fucker, further tightening the strings of his web until soon it would bind the turncoat and keep him immobile.

Then Ivar had lethal plans.

Until then, he kept an eye on other endeavors for Ragnar. Both for the company and off the books, anything to keep his mind busy. More often than not, he would work through the night, not even aware of the sun's arrival until he checked the time. Yet she still invaded his mind with frequency. It certainly did not help that third day, he had drunkenly proclaimed to Floki and Helga, he would send flowers to Kari every day until she took him back.

Floki had laughed.

Helga had sighed then leaned forward and told him to stop sending flowers and send something meaningful.

So far, he had no intentions of ceasing his array of offerings. But he had hoped….wished that by now, she would have texted him. At least thanked him for some of the presents. All he had gotten was radio silence. It burned like ice held against his skin for too long. A permanent chill took up residence in his chest, tightening its grasp on him with each passing day.

He knew she had received the packages. He was notified every time something was delivered but he also had a contact keeping an eye on her for him. Would she never speak to him again if she learned that she was being watched and followed? Most likely. But she already was giving him the silent treatment and he could not with good conscience allow her to be unprotected. He might not be around anymore but that did nothing to lessen his compelling need to keep her safe.

Hvitserk text him frequently, sometimes making a passing comment about how Kari was doing since he checked in with her often. Hearing the snippets of their conversations was both a knife to the chest, twisting and further ripping at his heart but also a cooling balm. To hear she was doing alright and she did not hate his family nor him. That she really did just need time to think.

But how much time? How much longer could he keep waiting? Why would she not just fucking talk to him? Yell at him. Scream until his ears bled. Break one of his bones to help her feel better. Gods, he would let her do anything if it would create a bridge over the void between them.

He just wanted to know if she thought of him as often as his thoughts turned towards her.

Sighing, he glanced down at his phone in his hand, bombarded with alerts and notifications but not from the one person he wanted.

Should he text her? Was it up to him to open that door of communication? But she said she needed time….why was all of this so damn confusing? Why did he have to fuck everything up in the first place?

"I'll go start on dinner." Helga announced, standing up. "Ivar, you should order those books for her next. That was a good idea."

He nodded silently, sending her a small, grateful smile.

After Helga left, the two men sat in the quietness of nature, gazing out over the water and fjord of Norway. A comfortable silence hovered over them.

Suddenly, Ivar's phone started ringing, startling him. With a raised brow, he unlocked the screen and brought the phone to his ear.

"What?"

"How's that vacation of yours?"

"Fuck off."

His father chuckled darkly before clearing his throat and turning serious. "Think you're sober enough to deal with our traitor?"

Ivar tensed, even as his stomach flipped and his fingers twitched in anticipation. "When?"

"Two days."

"Where?"

"Istanbul."

"Good."

Ragnar hummed thoughtly then continued. "He still has no notion we are aware of his activities, correct?"

Ivar snorted. "That goddamn fucker tried to send out information about your supplier in Libya…which does Bjorn even know about this supplier?"

"Not a fucking word, Ivar."

"Yeah, figured." Ivar scoffed, his hand tapped repetitively on his knee as his mind raced. "I'll leave tomorrow. Get everything ready there."

"Excellent. Tell Floki I need him next week."

"Sure."

The click on his phone notified Ivar that his father was no longer on the line and had not even attempted to end the call with a 'goodbye'. Like normal.

"Ragnar needs you next week." Ivar said, leaning back once again in his seat. Weeks of work, weeks of pouring through files and coded messages while digging deeper and deeper into the mire of corruption and betrayal. All of it would finally come into the light. All his hard work would showcase the snake he had caught, slithering through the henhouse. If only it had known Ivar was the bigger predator, with long-reaching claws and limitless resources.

"Hmmm….and what's got you so happy?" Floki asked, breaking Ivar from his thoughts.

He had not even realized a menacing smile covered his lips. Chuckling darkly, he could almost taste the spilled blood on his tongue. He stared straight ahead as he answered Floki, his gaze no longer seeing the fjord but a dark room where justice would be served. "My web has entangled a snake. And now it's time to rip its fangs out and watch it scream as I bleed it dry."

Tag List:

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To Call Forth Love

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Vikings-Ivar

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jadelynlace · 3 months

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Full-Term⎮Ink Drinker Blurb⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]