#reader x estadir hefna
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Hefna XV: Gildi
Summary: You talk to Alke about her being chosen to be an envoy and you can tell that this event has given your people hope. Ivar takes thing a bit too far.
Warnings: angst, strong language, small fluff, mentions of death, mentions of a war, I know that Ivar's not everyone's favorite in this fic but I promise that when I'm done posting this fic we'll move on to something where he's a nice person
Word Count: 2,664
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
“Vidar will not give us any longer to recover from the last attack. We must muster up as much strength as we can for the next fight,” Bjorn mentions, glancing around to each person around the war table. He leans forward on his hands, his gaze lingering on Ivar for a while longer to make sure he understands the urgency of his words, only to find him staring at you.
You keep your gaze on your hand entwined with Estadir’s, too scared to make eye contact with Ivar after what happened. You have yet to tell Estadir, but wonder if it is something you best keep to yourself because you are unsure what he would do. You don’t want him killing Ivar.
With Alke now back and a restored faith in your people, the plans for Skapanir went quickly. It’s now only a matter of when the attack will be.
“We must attack when he least expects, when he still thinks we are weak,” Bjorn mentions, earning a nod from Ivar. Bjorn can relax slightly, knowing now that Ivar has his mind focused on this war rather than on something like you.
Ivar shifts in his spot, tears his stare away from you and glances down at the table. “We should attack tomorrow. At dawn,” he states, looking up at Estadir and waiting for a protest or a reason not to attack tomorrow. A reason like the ritual that prevented them from attacking the last time.
Instead, Estadir nods in agreement and looks down to you at his side. You look up at him, bite your lip and nod your head. “We lost the last battle because we underestimated their numbers,” Estadir says, looking back to Ivar and you keep your gaze on him. “We should do the same to them.”
Ivar thinks about it for a moment, licking his lips and agrees to the idea with a nod. “What do you have in mind?” he asks.
Seeing that you are no longer needed here because you know that you won’t be fighting again, you let go of Estadir’s hand and take a step back. “I’m going to check up on Alke,” you whisper, earning a nod from him and a gentle smile.
You make the mistake of looking up to Ivar, catch his gaze for a second before turning to walk away. Estadir turns back to face Ivar, leans forwards with his hands on the table and clears his throat. “If you let me and my men go first, we can set up a distraction so your men can attack when they do not expect it,” Estadir speaks, making Ivar look away from where you had walked out of and back to him.
Walking through the hall where your people have made a temporary residency, seeming the smiles on their faces makes your heart light. And when you see Alke walking among them, speaking to them as you would speak to them as the voice of Virheia.
Something deep inside you tell you that this is good. In this time of strife for your people, they need to hear the voice of Itris and that will come through Alke. They need healing for their broken hearts from the Goddess of Healing.
You pick up a basket of bread that has been given graciously from the local baker to feed your people, walk up to Alke’s side and start handing out loaves to your people. “Is this how it normally feels after being chosen by a God?” she asks in a small voice as she turns her head to you.
As you look up at her, you have to hold back a gasp at the sight of the healed scar across the face. It’s Itris’ doing, you know that. Still, you give her a small smile and turn with her to walk across the room to another group of your people. “That feeling of something else flowing in your veins?” you question, making her chuckle and drop her head between her shoulders as she smiles to herself. “Yes. It always feels that way when a God chooses you,” you mention, gently handing a man a loaf of bread as you pass him, making sure to give him a reassuring smile even though you know he has lost his wife.
“Did you see Virheia when she chose you?” Alke questions, making your head turn to her and you see her staring off into the corner of the Hall.
Placing the basket down, you step in front of the healer and reach out to take her hands, causing her eyes to shift over to you. As you look into her eyes, you see fright. “I did. And Estadir saw Dedon when he was chosen. But, Itris doesn’t use her envoys the way the other Gods do,” you speak, giving her hands a slight squeeze as if to reassure her that things will be okay. “She doesn’t choose her envoys like the other Gods either.”
Those words make her laugh and she steps to your side to start walking toward the door, a hand timidly reaching up to touch the magically healed scar on her face before it drops to her chest. “I wasn’t dead, but I wasn’t alive either. And she reminded me of my mother because of how caring, how loving her voice was. How loving her voice is,” she starts, leaning against the door as she folds her arms over her chest. “She told me that we have work to do. And I know, something deep inside me knows, that there’s going to be more death, more healing that needs to be done. And, it scares me,” she confesses, dropping her head to stare at the ground as she bites on her lower lip.
You sigh, stand beside her and look out to the roofs of the houses. “I’m scared too. We’re all scared. But, we also have hope,” you say, her head turning up to you again. And you realize that this healer standing beside you is no longer like a daughter to you as your role of the mother of the tribe. Because she is not an envoy of the Goddess of Healing, she is now like your sister.
“How can you know that there’s hope?” Alke questions, making you smile and move to turn her around to face what remains of your family.
“Because of them and the look on their faces,” you whisper, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as you gesture out to your family. “Itris choosing you as her envoy, her first in years, has reassured them that the Gods haven’t completely abandoned us,” you add, looking over at her and watching a smile slowly starting to grow on her face.
She’s understanding more now why she was chosen. And just like Estadir was there for you when you were chosen by Virheia, Alke knows she’ll have you to help her out with all this.
In a way, Ivar didn’t want the plans for the next battle to be finalized because he knew that then you and Estadir would go through the same ritual that might ensure you starting a family, therefore taking away his chance of making you see why you should rather be with him.
But, it was all out of his hands.
He can’t stop the temporary move your people make into the woods close to the city - by now Ivar’s learned that any ritual done to your Gods has to be done outside - and he can’t stop this setup for the ritual.
Maybe there is something he can do, he thinks to himself as the sun starts to set, darkening the sky. He still has your pendant of Yggdrasil from that time in Nork. And maybe, he should tell you how he truly feels about you.
With the thought that he might be able to change your mind, he walks into the tent that was set up for you a bit away from where the ritual will take place.
There’s a certain smell in the tent, one that Ivar’s never come by. It’s sweet and soft. Rich smelling, but it has a calming effect on Ivar making him take a deep breath and holding it for a while before he breathes it out. Then he looks for you.
You stand in one corner of the tent, your back facing Ivar as you whisper foreign words in the language of what Ivar’s come to know is that of your Gods. In your hands, you hold something that he’s only seen when he’s in the Seer’s tent - a bundle of herbs he has never seen, smoldering at the end and filling the air with smoke and the distinct scent.
When you turn around when your white owl screeches and see Ivar, a gasp catches in the back of your throat and you lower the smudge stick slightly. He stares at the pain on your face. Is it possible for you to seem more fierce with it on now than when he first met you?
“What are you doing here, Ivar?” you ask in a small voice, gently placing the herbs on the table beside you but never taking your eyes off him.
He starts to walk towards you, keeping his crutch close to his body. “I need to talk to you,” he says, just as soft as you have spoken before, walking closer and closer to you.
You breathe out a deep sigh and drop your head between your shoulders. “Now is not a good time for that-”
“I think it is the perfect time,” he cuts you off, standing in front of you and reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and index finger to lift your gaze up to him again. “If I do not say it now, I will lose you forever,” he whispers, holding your face so you don’t look away from him as a shadow passes outside.
“I am in love with you.” You shake your head at his word, try to stop him but he doesn’t allow you to. “I want you to be mine instead of his. I can give you everything you want, take you across the sea to the lands you wish to explore. Those places on those maps you have, I can take you there. I can make you a queen.”
And then, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you gently and moving his hand to cup the side of your face.
It’s at that moment that Estadir walks into your tent, a smile on his face because of the smell that hit him the moment he pushes the flap aside. But that smile falls the moment he sees what’s before him. You, the love of his life, kissing the man he’s been wary of from the moment he came into his camp. And instead of rushing forward to pull the King away from you and losing his temper, he steps back out of the tent and seethes in wrath outside. It’s a pity he doesn’t have a weapon on him…
Then he hears you speak.
“No,” you say, quite loudly as you push away from Ivar. “You do not love me, Ivar. You barely know me compared to how Estadir knows me. You’re just...infatuated with me.” Ivar shakes his head, trying to fight back but you hold up a hand to stop him and make him listen to you as you carry on. “I could never love anyone else the way I love Estadir. It took our whole lives for our love to grow to where it is now. And I hope, one day you find someone who you love as Estadir loves me, and who loves you the way I love him. But that person is not me.”
Ivar stands, baffled at your words and with his eyes still staring at you. “We’re from two completely different worlds. And when we part ways, in time, you will forget about me,” you mention, turning and walking away from him towards the exit of the tent.
“I will never forget you,” he says to you over his shoulder, making you stop in your tracks and stand silent for a while.
You take a deep breath through your nose, close your eyes when you hear the drums starting to beat in a steady beat outside, and then turn your gaze back to Ivar. “Then you will grow to be bitter and watch the life you could have had fade away from you.” You turn to face him again, your eyes slightly narrow as you fold your arms over your chest. “You have someone who would give anything for you to just notice her, pay her the attention that’s wasted on me, and your obsession with me has made you blind to it,” you say, making him frown at your words and shift on his feet to turn around. “And now, you might have lost the chance to win Alke’s heart.”
With that, he doesn’t say anything. He’s still trying to comprehend your words and mention of Alke possibly feeling something for him and he hadn’t noticed. You’ve never spoken like this to him, never shown him this resentful side to you. After a moment of staring at him, you take a turn back around and leave him alone in your tent.
The moment you step outside, you stand in front of Estadir who lowers his gaze from the flap of your tent to you. And you realize that he had been listening to your conversation with Ivar but don’t know whether or not he knows that he tried to kiss you. “You heard it all?” you ask, standing up tall and straight, hands clenched at your sides as you silently pray that this hasn’t ruined the night and the ritual.
Estadir nods his head. You try to find a sign of anger in his facial expression, but there is none there. It makes you tilt your head and give him a perplexed look. “I told you from the beginning that I did not like him here. Did I not say that he was trying to take you from me?” There’s a kind of cocky tone in his voice and a teasing smirk on his face as he steps beside you and places a hand on your back to lead you forward to the fireplace and the heart of the ceremony.
You roll your eyes, relax when you realize that he’s trying to make a point and that he heard everything right with what you said to Ivar. “Please, don’t tell me you told me so tonight. Did I not profess my love for you to him and say that I’ll never love anyone the way I love you?”
He chuckles, turns toward you, and glances down at you and he places his hands either side of your face. Then, he leans down and presses his forehead to you making your eyes flutter shut and a smile grows on your face.
Alke waits for you and Estadir by the fire, a smile on her face when she sees the loving interaction between you two. She knows that everyone is in high hopes that tonight the Gods will bless you and the war will be won tomorrow. Itris gives her hope too.
Seeing Ivar walk out of your tent, Alke’s smile drops and she goes stiff in her place. Especially when his eyes fall on her. He stares at her, making her heart race in her chest and a breath falls from her lips.
But Alke turns her gaze away from him and walks into the circle of the people starting the ritual, banging on drums and singing verses to the Gods. You had said that she would have to choose between Ivar and her family. And now that she is the voice of Itris, she is proud to choose her family.
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Hefna XVIII: Fararleyfi
Summary: Everything comes to an end. But most of the time, the end is just the beginning. and at least you get to say goodbye to your father.
Warnings: strong language, fluff, mostly angst, mentions of death, mentions of a corpse
Word Count: 2,089
A/n: Epilogue to follow tonight!!! This part is uncheck so please forgive any mistakes
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Waking up before the sun rises, the space barren next to you where Estadir should be, and loud talking - almost shouting - coming from outside makes you smile. To think that everything can now go back to what it was excites you. No more fighting, no more innocent being lost. You can leave your past behind you now and focus on your future.
Then you remember Vidar. He’s still alive - as far as you know. But you tell yourself not to think about him and not to worry about what will happen. Revenge isn’t what Virheia stands for so neither should you. His fate is in Ivar’s hands and you’re sure that he will do what he thinks is right. So, why do you keep wondering what Ivar will do to Vidar?
When you walk out of your tent, the sky is lighter and the sun is just starting to rise. Estadir spots you, gives the man he had been talking to beside him a pat on the shoulder and a nod before he walks over to you. “I thought you would sleep in a while longer. Considering that you were restless during the night,” he speaks when he reaches you, his hand reaching out to take yours as you breathe out a long sigh. “Bad dreams?”
“You know I barely remember my dreams,” you whisper as you look down at your hand in his. “But there was something, now that I think about it. Something I vaguely remember.” You continue to stare down at your entwined hands, biting the inside of your cheek and you slowly close your eyes to try and think more about your dream. “Something about your family.”
Estadir shifts on his feet making your eyes snap open and your head to lift. “That’s all you remember?” You nod your head. “You have every reason to think of your father now. And your family,” he gently says, a smile breaking on your face as his fingers slowly run up and down the back of your hand. It always warms his heart when you smile. He would do anything to keep you smiling.
“I must go into Kattegat to buy some things we still need before leaving,” Estadir states even though he knows it will go against what he wants and will take the smile off your face.
It does and it makes your head drop between your shoulders as you nod your head. “I will come with you,” you mention, expecting him to fight back and find a reason for you to stay in the camp. Instead, he smiles and leads you towards his horse and yours.
You both ride to Kattegat for what will probably be the last time with a few other people accompanying you. Riding next to Estadir, you can’t help but think about when you two will be traveling again, going through the wild and living off the land. Thinking of Holar where you and Estadir will marry and then at the thought that the Gods have blessed you with a child after this war makes you smile again.
In the city, you and Estadir go around the market, looking for things that had been lost when Vidar attacked the camp. Things like extra blankets for when it starts getting cold and then some foods you’ll need that you won’t be able to get from hunting.
Something grabs your attention when you reach the center of the city. Turning your head, a gasp catches in your throat and your hand covers your mouth at the sight of Vidar’s body hanging from two poles. His back is cut open and his lungs draped over his shoulders. You’ve never seen something so brutal before, considering that you saw Vidar kill your father.
You step forward, walking away from Estadir with your eyes fixed on Vidar’s body. Swallowing harshly as you slowly drop your hand from your mouth, you stop walking when you’re a few feet from the display. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you but you somehow can’t seem to pull your head away.
“I thought you would be there last night to see him die,” Ivar speaks, his voice making you finally turn your head. You stare at him, your eyes wide and your heart hammering away in your chest. “He was, after all, the man that killed-”
“I know,” you snap, taking a small step away from him. “Maybe I would have…” You trail off, stop yourself, and shake your head to yourself and you stare at the ground. You don’t want to say that you would have come last night if you knew because you don’t know if that would be true. If you knew that Ivar would kill Vidar like this, you’re not sure if you would have even come. “Revenge means something completely different to you and me. To your Gods and to mine.”
Ivar frowns at you, his eyes running over your face to try and understand what you’re talking about. “You don’t think he deserved this?” He points to the body on display but you don’t look back at it. You carry on looking at him. “After what he did to your family? And your people?”
“Maybe he did. But it’s not for me to decide what happens to him because of that.”
“Then why did you come? Why did you agree to help me in the war?” His voice is now getting louder, drawing attention from others around you.
“Because I…” You sigh, run your hands through your hair to calm yourself. You don’t want to shout just because he’s shouting. You need to remain calm. “Because I thought that he would die in war. That you would decide to kill him on the battlefield instead of making a show for your people,” you explain.
He narrows his eyes at you and takes a step forward, but you step backward. “Because that’s the way your people do things.”
“Well, we don’t go around killing innocent people for their gold and cities,” you fight back, keeping your head held high as he steps back slightly in shock. “I saved your life when I found you injured on a battlefield. And I didn’t ask for anything in return. Now, you killed the man that killed my father, my mother, and my siblings. I consider us even now,” you say, your head turning slightly to the side to see Estadir walking towards you.
He looks a bit distressed, especially as his eyes move up to the grotesque display of Vidar’s corpse hanging above your head. “Goodbye, Ivar,” you whisper, turning around to start walking towards Estadir again, who has now stopped in his tracks.
Ivar stares at Estadir as you walk and Estadir stares at him with a stern gaze. Neither of them move or say anything, not even nod to each other. When you reach Estadir, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and turns around to walk away with you. Ivar doesn’t want to go after you anymore. He turns and walks away, back to the Great Hall, telling himself that it’s useless looking back at you.
It feels like home again, traveling on the road with the sun above you and the horizon never-ending. Like always, Estadir rides in front of the moving tribe and you farther back. The sounds of your horse’s hooves hitting the stones start to drone out in a repetitive clip-clop.
Your vision starts to blur slightly, making you blink and take a deep breath. But it’s like the sun’s starting to shine too bright for your eyes, making you squint and lower your head so you stare at your hands holding the reins. You try to focus your eyes, but when a low buzz fills your ears, you have an idea as to what might be happening.
You pull on the reins and as quickly as you can, dismount your horse. You don’t hear people around you asking if you’re okay, alerting those farther ahead to stop, and don’t even feel Alke helping you to the ground.
On your back, your eyes turned up to the sky, you take a deep breath as the bright light fills your vision completely. You feel nothing but peace in your body and in your mind. You’ve felt like this, not even when Virheia chose you as her voice. As you blink again, you see a figure walking towards you.
Trying to speak, your mouth definitely moving, nothing comes out. Slowly, your father’s Great Hall starts to take form around you. And the figure starts to take form. Ethereal and radiant, she walks towards you with a serene light glowing off her skin. “Virheia.” You know her face all too well.
She gives you a smile as she turns and holds her hand out to the side. “Everyone should have a chance to say goodbye,” she says in a warm voice.
Looking towards your father's throne, you see him standing in front of it, his hands folded in front of him. He’s smiling at you. As you take a step forward, so does he. You have tears falling from your eyes, but you don’t feel any sadness. Seeing him in front of you makes your heart fill with happiness that feels unearthly.
He reaches up to touch your face and wipes a tear away from your cheek. “Don’t cry, my darling,” he whispers. Hearing his voice again makes you smile and you jump forward to wrap your arms around him.
“I miss you,” you mutter into his shoulder as his arms wrap around you and pull you closer to him.
“I know you do. But I am always with you,” he gently says, pulling out of the hug to smile down at you again. “And I am so proud of the woman you have become.”
You laugh, nod your head at him and drop your gaze to the pendant on his chest. The one you had carried for years. Hearing footsteps behind your father, you tilt your head to see who it is. And you feel your heart sink when you see your mother walking forward, your siblings trailing behind her.
Estadir sits on the ground with your head in his lap, gently stroking your temples with his thumbs as he waits for you to wake up. He knows everyone is wondering why Virheia is choosing to speak with you now, wondering if they have done something wrong or if something is waiting for them down the line that they need to be wary of. But Estadir knows that they know they need to wait for you to wake up.
It takes a few moments longer than usual before you wake up, breathing out a deep sigh as your head rolls to the side, pressing against Estadir’s hand. Your eyes flutter open and you blink a few times as your head returns back to the center. Estadir smiles down at you when your eyes meet his and you give a small chuckle. “Hi,” you whisper, smiling back up at him.
He leans down, presses his lips to yours as his thumbs continue to caress the sides of your face. It’s just a short kiss, one that tells you he’s happy you’re alright. “Hi,” he whispers against your lips.
“I saw my family,” you softly say, your hand reaching up to touch his. “Virheia took me to say goodbye. I saw them again.”
Estadir sighs, slowly pulls away from you but keeps his gaze on you. “You deserved to say goodbye,” he whispers, and you nod your head. “And what happens now?”
“Now, we move on. Focus on our lives and our future,” you mention, pulling his hand away from your face so you can wrap your hands around his.
He nods his head, strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I think that’s a good idea.”
You chuckle at him and slowly start to push yourself up. Estadir helps you up to your feet. He doesn’t let you go as he leads you to your horse again. Helping you onto your horse again, he quickly mounts his own horse and then looks at you. He smiles, shouts to the rest of the tribe that it’s time to move again, and holds out his hand to you. “Ride with me,” he says.
Placing your hand in his, you urge your horse forward when he starts to move forward to get back to the front of the horde.
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#ivar#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#ivar lothbrok#vikings#vikings ivar#reader x oc#estadir x reader#hefna
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Hefna Epilogue
Summary: The land of your Gods has always made you happy. And it's the perfect place to start your family.
Warnings: fluff, end of a series, mentions of childbirth, short and sweet
Word Count: 892
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
*Estadir^^*
Estadir decided not to leave Holar after the two of you married, thinking that it would be a good place for the birth of the child you carry. You started showing signs before you even reached the halfway point to the sacred land and Alke confirmed that it is pregnancy. Not that it surprised anyone. It was what Skapanir was about. You got to Holar before your child showed too much and the wedding was planned quite quickly. But you and Estadir were eager to marry so you didn’t mind that at all.
The time you didn’t get to send in Holar before marrying, like Estadir had planned, was spent afterward when he thought it would be too risky for you and the child growing in your belly to be on the move every day. Besides, Estadir told you even before he asked you to be his wife that he would like his firstborn child, his heir, to be born in the land sacred to the Gods.
And for the rest of your pregnancy, Holar was your home.
It makes sense that the Gods chose this peaceful valley in between mountains to be their sacred land. You sit at the edge of the river every day, your hand over your swollen stomach, taking in the peaceful surroundings. Sometimes, you sit with your feet in the cool water. Other times, Estadir is behind you, rubbing your back and peppering kisses on your neck as he whispers what he thinks the baby in your belly will look like.
And on a calm, peaceful night - practically like any other night in the sacred land - the Gods decided that your wait for your child was over.
You stretch out to the side, letting out a small groan when your hand lands on the empty space where your husband should be. Lifting your head off your pillow, you look around the tent to try and spot Estadir. He’s not in the tent. And neither is your newborn child.
Slowly you push yourself off the bed, sighing as your feet hit the floor and feeling how cold it is outside this warm bed. Before you stand up, you pull the fur blanket over your shoulders and wrap it around you to keep yourself warm.
Walking out of the tent, you squint at the bright light from the sun, glancing around to try and find Estadir. He’s nowhere in sight. You walk a bit more out of the tent, continuing to look around, keeping your eyes open for your new husband.
Alke notices you searching around the camp and she knows exactly what you’re looking for. She was there, right beside you when you gave birth. Itris gave Alke the knowledge and led her hand to bring yours and Estadir’s child into the world.
When your eyes land on the healer and she points in the direction of the river. You give Alke a thankful smile, nod your head, and turn to walk the path you’ve walked so many times before your child was born. Sure enough, at the bank of the river, you see Estadir gently swaying from side to side, holding a sleeping babe in his arms.
He hears your footsteps behind him, turns his head over his shoulder and smiles brightly at you. Looking back down at the part of you that he holds in his arms, you stand beside him and rest a hand on his arm. “He was restless and I didn’t want him to wake you,” he whispers, leaning towards you to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Well, I couldn’t sleep without you beside me,” you respond, keeping your voice as quiet as his because you don’t want to wake your peacefully sleeping son. “But, I’m glad to see you two spending time together. Does that mean you’re going to steal him away from me more often?”
Estadir chuckles, bringing his hand up to his son’s cheek so he can gently caress it with his thumb. The baby doesn’t stir at all. “Perhaps I will. But I still love how much of a mother you look like when you’re holding him,” he says, making you laugh and rest your head against his bicep.
“And I love how much of a father you look like when you’re holding him,” you respond. Estadir smiles at your words, smiles down at the son in his arms, and at the feeling of his wife and the mother of his child leaning against his arm.
Even though the tribe has always been and will always be his family, he’s happy with the family he now has with you. His wife is beautiful. His son is beautiful. He has everything he could ever dream of.
You sometimes wonder what it would be like if your parents were still alive. You would have liked your mother and father to meet your son and your husband. But you know that can’t happen so you don’t let that make you sad. You know they are in a better place, and there’s nothing you can do about that. You know they are looking down at you now, seeing how happy you are with your new family.
You know this is what they would have wanted for you. To have a husband who would do anything for you and a son who you would do anything for.
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Hefna XVII: Rök
Summary: With the last feast of celebration you'll have in Kattegat coming to an end, you confront Vidar about his actions towards your family; why he did what he did. But it doesn't give you the closure you thought it would give you.
Warnings: angst, strong language, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of a war, magical elements
Word Count: 2,886
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Your people joined Ivar’s people once more to celebrate the victory of the war. It was bigger than the feast that had occurred when you and your traveling tribe arrived despite the numbers you had lost in this war. You’re just glad to see your people happy again. And like them, you’re longing to start traveling again.
Though both you and Estadir are eager to start the journey to Holar again so you can marry before… Well, it’s preferred that you two are married before there are any signs that you’re carrying a child but you and Estadir know that won’t actually happen. Still, you’re sure that Estadir feels that enough time has been used up with this war and the year anniversary of his marriage proposal is coming up. The plan to get to Holar and spend some time there, planning the wedding in a relaxed manner won’t happen anymore.
“I don’t care if our wedding day isn’t the grandest one to have occurred in Holar. As long as I marry you, I will be the happiest woman in the world,” you tell Estadir to calm him down. You want him to enjoy this night just as his people are.
With the sun dawning into a new day, you remember Vidar being dragged into the Great Hall and that you never asked what had happened to him. You still have questions that you want answered by him. Questions that you have had since you saw Nork in ruins and questions that might go all the way back to when he attacked your home city when you were still a child.
You feel a warmth growing in your body as you turn to face the Great Hall. You couldn’t ask one of the men standing outside where you might find Vidar because you know they will want to ask Ivar if you have permission to see the prisoner. You are, afterall, an outsider and a guest. You don’t have the entitlement Ivar has or any of his brothers have. And after what happened on the night of the second ritual - and how he never even looked at you during the night’s feast - you’re certain that you don’t want to ask Ivar. It’s best to just leave things as is.
Then, you see a man walking up to the door of the Great Hall and something inside you tells you to follow him. You’re not sure why you feel you should do so, but you’ve learned not to question it. So, keeping you eyes on the man, you move forward and follow him into the Great Hall.
As you walk, you don’t look around to see if anyone has noticed you fearing that if you do, you’ll lose sight of this man and you’ll never find out why you felt to follow him. If this is Virheia telling you to follow him then you trust that she won’t let you get caught.
The man leads you right to where you hoped he would lead you; the prison cells where Ivar’s keeping Vidar. “It can’t be comfortable wearing all those rings,” the man you followed says as you stand up against the wall so he won’t see you when he comes back out. “You’ll want to take those off when Ivar decides your fate.”
“You’ll have to cut them off my fingers for them to leave my hands.” Vidar speaks in a low voice, you almost don’t hear his words.
The man you followed chuckles and then you hear him leave. Waiting for a few moments of silence before leaving the spot where you stand to stand in front of the bars of his cells. Vidar lifts his head up at the sounds of your footsteps and the tired look on his face falls when he sees it’s you. “Well, well, well. Haven’t you grown since we last met, Verrasdottir.”
“I’m surprised you know it’s me.”
“Considering that you got away when I attacked your home?” he asks, pushing himself to his feet so he can get closer to you. You lift your head higher to keep your confidence and he shakes his head. “I knew where you had gone. I had men follow you so that I could complete my task of revenge but they told me you had found refuge in a huge, traveling horde. I would never have won a fight to get you back,” he explains, wrapping his hands around the bars between you and him as he smirks at you.
“Just so you could kill me?” you question and he hums. You scoff and run your tongue over your lips to push down the tears growing in your eyes. “I want to know why,” you demand, looking back at him with narrow eyes.
“Why your father? Why your family? Why your home?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at you. “Your father and I were very close when we were young. Friends. With a very similar thought of what we wanted when we grew older,” he starts to explain, pulling away from the bars and taking a step back. “But then, things changed when the city chose him to be Earl after the last died without an heir. He met your mother and he never spoke to me again.”
You stare at him, taking in his words and trying to comprehend them. Taking in a breath, you shift on your feet and shake your head slightly. “So, he grew up and decided to live his life. That doesn’t explain anything.”
Vidar holds up a finger. “Until he banished me.” You swallow roughly at his words. “I went behind his back to build an army, to try and tempt him into traveling the world like we planned. He saw it as a threat to his family and his people and banished me. It destroyed my pride,” he carries on. “So, a few years later, I came back with a bigger army to make him feel how I felt when he took everything from him.”
“Revenge is only in the minds of corrupt men,” you breathe out, glaring at him with a cold gaze and your hands curled into fists. “And it never leaves you with the feeling of satisfaction. That’s why you went on to try and overtake over cities, isn’t it? That’s why your hands are covered in rings to show off your apparent success and hide the fact that your hands are covered in blood you will never wash off.” You take a step forward and rest your hand on one of the bars in front of you. “You still haven’t explained why you left Nork to die. Why didn’t you rule it?” you demand.
“As you said,” Vidar begins, holding up his hands to show off his decorated fingers. “I had my eye on other prizes. Each city was far more greater than Nork. Do you really think I wanted to rule that pathetic excuse of a trading post?”
“Nork could have been as great as Kattegat is today. Under the right hand, it could have flourished.”
“Then you are just like your father,” he snaps at you, rushing forward and standing up close to the bars and almost pressing his face between the bars. But you don’t back away. “Stupid and naïve.”
You open your mouth to fight back and defend yourself as well as your father but a sound to the side stops you and your head turns to see what it is. In the shadows, you see Ivar stepping forward. “She is anything but stupid,” he says. And he’s looking at you for the first time since he came back from the battle.
He stands next to you and you look back at Vidar when you hear him chuckle. “I have what I came for. And from what you told me, I hope your Gods don’t take pity on you. No doubt they won’t allow you into your Valhalla because of what you’ve done,” you sneer at him, look at Ivar for a brief moment as you step away from the bars. “You can do to him what you want, King Ivar.” And then you walk past him.
Ivar’s gaze follows you, his jaw tensing, and his grip on his crutch tightening as he watches you walk away. “How does it feel-” Ivar looks at Vidar as he speaks again. “-knowing that you can never have her no matter how much you want her?”
Rolling his eyes, Ivar shifts in his spot so that he faces Vidar now. “You don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“Oh, but I do. I see the way you look at her. We’ve all looked at a woman like that before.” Vidar smirks as he leans against the bars, looking the way you had walked off in. “A shame she doesn’t look at you the same way, isn’t it?”
Ivar doesn’t answer. He just stares scornfully at Vidar when he laughs and shakes his head in amusement. “If she’s anything like how her mother was, you wouldn’t be able to handle her. That bitch took down 3 of my best men before she finally died,” Vidar mutters, smirking as if he’s remembering a funny memory. But Ivar’s sure that if you had heard this, you would be furious. Probably as furious as Ivar feels now.
His hand shoots through the bars and he grabs Vidar around the throat, making him look at him with that smirk still on his face. “Maybe I should kill you tonight. Why wait any longer?” Ivar hisses at him, smiling at that thought as he lets go of Vidar and withdraws his hand.
“Just so you can prove something to a woman who doesn’t want you?” Vidar laughs. “You’re just as much of a fool as she is.”
Ivar doesn’t want to hear any more of this so he turns as starts to walk away, leaving Vidar in his cell. When he is alone, Vidar presses his back against the wall and takes a deep breath. He knows that nothing he says now will save him from what Ivar might have planned and if he decides to kill him tonight.
You thought that knowing why Vidar did what he did, why he killed your family would make you feel like you could move on. You could finally let go of that part of your life and carry on with being the Mother of the tribe and being Virheia’s envoy. But now, you can’t stop thinking about how your father must have suffered watching his family be murdered and everything being taken from him. And all from his childhood friend.
The camp that your tribe has set up for the second ritual out in the forest is still erect and will probably be dismantled the morning you and Estadir decide to leave. So, that’s where you go after walking out of the Great Hall. You’re also sure that Ivar might try and follow you to talk to you and you’d rather not talk about what he might have heard.
Sitting in your tent, your white owl on your lap and your fingers gently stroking her head, you know someone has walked in when her head turns around and she hoots softly. You know who it is from the footsteps, so you don’t bother lifting your head.
Estadir sits down beside you on the bed, folds his hands together, and breathes out a sigh. “I was wondering where you had gone. But from the look on your face and the way you won’t look at me, I can only guess that you went to talk to the man that-”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” you cut him off, standing up with your owl on your forearm so you can put her on her perch. As she places her beak under her wing, you breathe out a long sigh and drop your head between your shoulders. You know Estadir is still looking at you, so you hesitate turning around all while keeping your eyes on your hands. “I just thought that if I knew why he did it, I could move on. I thought I would have closure and I wouldn’t have this...missing part inside me. Everything would be fine,” you mention, slowly lifting your gaze to him. “Everything seemed to happen so fast when I was a child. I didn’t have time to think about everything because I was so busy thinking about my own survival and now, everything seems to be crashing down on me.” As you speak, you walk over to him again and sit beside him, your eyes falling to your hands again.
He places his hands over yours, turns to face you more directly, hoping that you’ll look at him again. “Do you remember when my father died?” His question is what makes you lift your head and look at him again. You nod. “Do you remember how everyone has been waiting for him to be at peace for years? How we stayed in one place all that time, waiting for Sidar, God of Death, to take him?” You nod again. “Everyone was expecting him to die. But for me, when he finally passed on, it felt like everything had stopped.”
You know what he’s getting at. Somehow, whenever he tries to comfort you, no matter what he says, it works and makes you understand what he’s talking about. You nod your head again, glance down to his hands that rest over yours, and give a small smile. “I remember how I was the only one that was able to console you. The only one you would allow near during that time,” you whisper, your words making him smile and chuckle lightly at the memory you share.
“You did all you could to make me smile again. And now, I will attempt to do the same as I tell you the words you told me,” he starts, lifting a hand to cup your cheek and turn your gaze up to him. “Those we love don’t go away. They walk beside us, unseen, unheard, so loved, and so missed, every day. Yes?” You nod your head, smile gently, and lean into his touch. “What can I do to make you happy?”
Sighing, you glance to the side at the flap of the tent and think for a moment before looking back at him. “Honestly, I want to leave. I want to put all this behind me.”
Estadir nods when you look back at him. “Then we’ll leave in the morning. I’m sure there are others that would agree with you,” he states, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You being a part of them?” you tease, smirking at him when he pulls away from you.
“Of course.” He speaks softly, almost as if he didn’t want to admit that he doesn’t want to leave as soon as possible, smiles gently at you before he stands, and pulls his hand away from your face. But you know he likes moving around as much as the next person in the family.
Ivar looks over the gathering crowd in front of the Great Hall, in front of the podium set up for Vidar’s execution. He thought he would see your face among his people. But then he realizes that there is not one person from your tribe in the crowd. He wonders if he should send word to you that he will kill Vidar tonight so that you can be there to see his death. Perhaps he should go tell you himself.
Shaking his head at that thought, your words about how you don’t love him and how you never will echo through his mind, he glances up at Vidar as Ubbe and Hvitserk push him forward onto the podium. Remember what Vidar said earlier about you, Ivar starts to feel a bit of anger growing inside him.
Maybe you were right. Maybe he doesn’t love you but is just infatuated with you. After all, when has he ever loved anyone besides his mother? Perhaps people are right when they say that he doesn’t know what love is. Maybe he was stupid to think that he could love him and that you could love him too.
As his brothers secure Vidar’s arms to the posts on either side of him, Ivar steps forward with a look of murder in his eyes. Vidar still has those rings on his fingers, saying that he would like to die with them on. Ivar didn’t care. He doesn’t care if someone takes them after he dies and melts them down into something else. All Ivar cares about now is killing him, the man that tried to take everything from him.
It’s your bad if you’re not here to see him die, Ivar thinks. He doesn’t care anymore.
He doesn’t hear what Vidar had said when he walked up beside him, Ubbe staying on the podium to help Ivar with this execution if he needs it. But Ivar is silent, not moving his gaze anywhere except between blades when he switches from his knife to his ax.
He doesn’t even smile when Vidar starts to scream when the ax comes down on his bones.
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#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#ivar lothbrok#ivar's heathen army#vikings ivar#vikings fic#vikings#ivar imagine#oc x reader#estadir x reader#hefna#vikings fanfic
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Hefna XVI: Stridha
Summary: Estadir and Ivar and their armies ride out for one last fight with Vidar.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of war, mentions of murder, strong language, unrequited love, mythical/magical elements (I guess)
Word Count: 2,198
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Each war he wins, he adds a ring to his fingers to show off the number of victories he has won, the number of Kings, Earls, and Jarls he has taken down. Today, Vidar is certain he will have another ring to add to his collection. This ring will be the grandest of the all for taking down Ivar the Boneless and the horde of nomads fighting beside him?
It should be soon that they surrender to him now.
“My King. Their army is leaving.”
Vidar’s head snaps towards the man who had been keeping an eye on the city of Kattegat and he stops twisting the ring crested with the sigil of Yggdrasil. “What?” he sneers, storming towards the man that has just dismounted his horse. “They’re not supposed to be getting ready for another attack, they’re supposed to be surrendering like cowards!”
The man drops his head in shame as if it’s his fault that the army isn’t doing what Vidar wants. Taking a deep breath, the king runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a deep sigh. “I suppose we could muster up arms for another attack. Perhaps it will be easier this time,” he mutters, looking to his lieutenant who just gives a stiff nod before turning to gather his army.
Vidar walks to his tent to get ready for the battle. Even though he is old, he still has fight left in him. Besides, he’s heard that there is someone among the horde from one of the cities he overtook a long time ago. Someone he didn’t have a chance to finish off because of their escape.
This time, he plans on reuniting you with your family.
Ivar, Estadir, and the army behind them arrive at the battlefield a lot quicker than they had thought they would. Maybe it’s because of the smaller army they have this time compared to the last time. It is something that worried both men, but according to Ivar, they had managed to reduce Vidar’s numbers as well. And battles aren’t won by numbers.
They both look out at the field, silent and thinking to themselves of the plan. The plan is Estadir’s, which means that Ivar’s not completely confident in it but he has to do what he must to get this over with. After last night and what you had said to him, leaving him heartbroken, he just wants this to be over so you can leave and he doesn’t have to feel like an idiot anymore.
The army remains silent as to not blow their cover as they hide in the cover of the forest, waiting for a sign from their leaders. “You’re sure about this plan?” Ivar questions, turning his head away from the open field to look at Estadir.
“You have a better idea?” he asks back, looking over at Ivar with a stern look on his face.
Ivar rolls his eyes and looks back out, not answering the questions. Estadir grumbles to himself in his own language before he turns around and shouts out to his portion of the army. As they prepare to move, Estadir looks over his shoulder at the king on his chariot. “Don’t fuck up,” he barks before he moves off, not waiting for a response from Ivar.
About half of the army follow Estadir into the forest again, most of the people from his tribe, leaving Ivar with his brothers and the remainder of their army. Ivar breathes out a deep sigh as he looks out in front of him, thinking about your words from last night.
“You went to go see (Y/n) last night, didn’t you?” Hvitserk questions as he and Ubbe join his side, waiting with him for the signal from Estadir. Ivar doesn’t respond to that, only clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the reigns. “What did she say?”
“That has nothing to do with you, Hvitserk,” Ivar snaps, turning his head down to him to glare coldly at him. “When this is over, she and her tribe will leave and I won’t go after her anymore,” he sneers, looking between Hvitserk and Ubbe as if to challenge them to ask him any more questions.
“If that is so, then why do you still carry her pendent?” Ubbe asks, his eyes landing on a pocket where the sigil of Yggdrasil hangs.
Ivar follows his brother’s gaze down to your necklace you didn’t take last night and pulls it out of the pocket. Then, he throws it to the side, abandoning it on the ground before he glares at Ubbe. “There. Happy? Can we think about this battle now?”
Ubbe and Hvitserk look at each other, thinking if you had rejected him. Of course, they would have known right away if you had chosen to be with him. Ivar wouldn’t have shut up about it. But he hadn’t said anything last night and looked at you with an almost sad look on his face when you and Estadir arrived this morning.
To the left of the massive expanse of the battlefield, Vidar’s army emerges from the trees, making Ivar and the rest of the army perk up in interest. To the right, Estadir and his own part of the army emerge, and the two armies stop far away from each other, staring at each other.
Estadir, who has left his horse behind, walks up in front of his warriors and stares at Vidar with his hand gripping his ax tightly. Behind him, his men start to bang their weapons against their shields in a slow steady beat. Estadir raises his ax to point it at Vidar, challenging him. And at the same time, every man begins to chant in a frightening voice that travels over the whole battlefield.
“You! Every man! Hear our voice. Listen to us now; in our hands is your death. We shall slaughter your people but any mercy is given. Fearless are we, death makes us laugh. War is what we want. You, will die. You will die in this battle.”
The chant is meant to scare an opponent and to challenge them. Today, it is also part of the plan to distract the opposing army. Because as they chant, intimidating them, Ivar and his army move out from their hiding place, forward to attack the unsuspecting army.
Estadir sees Ivar and his part of the army streaming out from the trees, raises his ax to the sky, and gives a loud battle cry before running forward himself, his warriors following him.
You’re certain that the longer you stay outside, the more clearly you can hear the sounds of shouting, battle cries, and weapons hitting shields. You stare up at the sky, arms wrapped around yourself, and your lip being held between your teeth.
Hearing footsteps behind you, you turn your head over your shoulder to see Alke walking towards you. You’ve noticed how her confidence and the way she carries herself has grown and you can’t help but smile at that. She looks out at the sky as she stands beside you, but she’s not listening for the same sounds you’re sure you can hear.
“There is a storm coming,” she whispers, looking at the dark clouds that slowly come down from the mountains. “Hopefully, it will come after the battle. I don’t think anyone would like to be caught in it.”
You swallow, nod your head as you look away from the sky and down at your feet. “Even so, I will stay out here until Estadir returns so that I know…” You stop, look down at your stomach as you breathe out a heavy sigh. “So that I know he is alright,” you say, unfolding your arms from around you and placing a gentle hand over your stomach.
Alke notices this, turns her head towards you, and her eyes falling to your hand. She turns to face you, places her hands over yours, and makes you look up at her. “I have faith. Do you?”
You feel it’s easy for her to say she has faith because she was chosen by Itris just days ago. It is easy to have faith when the Gods have been near so recently. Still, you cannot ignore the constant feeling of celestial magic in your veins. The feeling you’ve always had since Virheia chose you to be her envoy, her voice.
Smiling at Alke, you gently nod your head saying that you do have faith. “We should wait inside. Do not listen. It will only make your mind think of things that are not true,” she whispers, moving her hand to your shoulders to turn you around, leading you back to the Great Hall.
But as you start to walk away, everything goes silent. There is no more shouting, no more screaming, no more metal hitting metal. No even the sounds of the wind moving the trees. It’s all quiet.
The quiet seems to draw everyone’s attention, making them over the roofs of the houses. And the only thing that finally breaks the silence is the distant thunder roll in the dark clouds. But then, it’s quiet again.
You look over at Alke whose eyes dart all across the sky but just like you, she does not seem to be worried. After a battle involving your people, your Gods, it is often quiet. And most of the time, it is a good thing. The Gods reward a successful battle with peace. Peace after war. It always seemed fitting to you.
Those that have chosen to stay instead of following Estadir to battle come out from the temporary home in the Great Hall. The thought of going inside to wait is now lost. Now, everyone wants to wait outside to see who returns. How many more will be lost?
It’s not certain how long it has been since the silence fell, since you’ve been waiting for the army to return. But when you hear someone from the gate shouting and order to open them, your heart leaps in your throat and you take a step forward, whispering to Virheia, to Dedon, to bring your beloved back to you.
The first person you see coming through the gates in Ivar. He rides towards the Great Hall, towards you. He glances at you, his face and armor covered in blood. He doesn’t look at you for long, turns his gaze away, and shouts something to someone behind him. People start to move forward to greet their family that has returned. But as you look for your own people, your own family, you catch the sight of the man that started this war.
Vidar.
His face is bruised and bloodied, obvious that someone brought down their fists on his face. His wrists are bound and two men lead him into the Great Hall, probably to take him to a cell. You thought he would have been killed in battle, not brought here. But, then again Ivar has more reason to deal with him than you do. Vidar did declare war on him before you two even met.
Then, you see Estadir. You breathe a sigh of relief and feel your entire body relax before your feet take off toward him. The moment his eyes land on you, he drops his ax and runs to meet you halfway. He knows you don’t care that he’s covered in blood like those around him. You’ve definitely seen him in worse condition.
He wraps his arms around you as you throw yourself at him, lifting you off the ground for a moment and pressing his lips to yours as he holds you close to him. His hands move to hold your face after setting your feet on the ground again and he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. “The Gods have blessed us, my love.”
A big smile breaks across your face and you nod your head at him Estadir drops one hand to your stomach. It’s true. With his return, it means that the Gods have accepted your ritual and gifted you with a child, an innocent life.
Even Ivar knows what this means. He watches you and Estadir, looks down at his hand resting on your stomach that he knows now will grow with your child. Estadir’s child. He feels a fool to think that he could have ever won your heart as he watches the way you stare so lovingly at the man in front of you. How had he not seen that before? Was he so blind?
He moves his gaze over to Alke who stands in solitude, her gaze fixed on him as if she was waiting for him to look at her. Ivar straightens his back under her gaze, takes a deep breath when she doesn’t look away after a moment and your words about her come to his mind again. Alke gives him a look, almost to say that she had told him you’d never leave Estadir for him. She told him so, and he chose to ignore it because he thought he knew you better.
Then, Alke looks away from him to reunite with her family.
#ivar#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader#unrequited love#vikings#history vikings#vikings fanfic#ivar ragnarsson#estadir x reader#reader x oc#hefna
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Hefna XIII: Forsjá
Summary: Estadir returns, grateful that you are unharmed but disheartened that he lost most of his people.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of murder, unrequited love, mentions of war, metions of rituals
Word Count: 1,675
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
A woman said to be Ubbe’s wife, Torvi, gave you and your people shelter when your small number arrived at the gates of Kattegat. The Great Hall is filled with weeping women, mourning men, and scared children that have seen more than they should have. You can only stare at him with a disheartened gaze as you grip the furs around your shoulders tightly.
“You must drink something,” Torvi says as she sits beside you and holds out a cup of water to you. “It will be good for you.”
But you shake your head and glance down at your hands as you bite your lower lip. “My people take preference before me,” you weakly say, your voice breaking at the thought that you watched your people die early that day.
She swallows, turns her gaze out to those that survived the attack, and runs her tongue over her lips before looking back at you. “And they need to see you strong and taking care of yourself,” she whispers, placing the cup in your hand as you glance up at her.
Forcing yourself to smile as you bring the cup up to your lips to take a sip, you look out to the room again and sigh sadly. Shaking your head and not being able to bear seeing them like you, you drop your gaze again and fight back the growing tears in your eyes. “I haven’t seen them like this before. Ever since I became a part of them, they have always been fierce, proud, and strong people,” you mention, making Torvi turn her head to you so she can listen to your words. “They’ve lost so much now and I don’t know if anything I say can comfort them,” you add, looking at her with tears in your eyes.
She places a gentle hand on your forearm and offers a friendly smile. “You are in mourning, just as they are. You don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to. They will understand,” she softly says.
You nod, look down again and bite your lower lip. You’re so used to comforting those in need, feeling as if it’s your duty being the voice of a Goddess, you often forget that sometimes you need to be comforted too. That’s always where Estadir comes in and gives you that listening ear you’ve been to others. And now he’s not here.
Hearing the horn announcing the arrival of someone, both you and Torvi stand and stare at the door in anticipation. When she sees her husband walking through the doors in one piece, she breathes out a relieved sigh and rushes forward.
Your gaze catches Ivar after he glances around at the sight of your people occupying the Great Hall. He’s never seen such a broken look on your face before and it can only mean that your camp indeed attacked. He tries to step towards you so he can attempt to provide whatever comfort you may need, but your head turns at the sound of a couple reuniting. One from your tribe.
The sight makes you smile for a moment before you realize that some of your men and women that went to fight have come back. It’s not as many as those that had left, telling you that the battle was lost, and that makes you fear that you lost Estadir too. Especially since you don’t see him now.
But, before you can despair, you spot someone tall roughly walking into the Great Hall, with more sorrow on his face than you’ve ever seen. A man that looks like he’s lost everything.
“Estadir,” you whisper to yourself as you place the cup down, shrug off the fur around your shoulders and start to move towards him, taking it slow because you don’t know if you’ll fall.
He spots you, and it’s as if the burden on his shoulders is lifted as he breathes out and pushes his way past people to get you. He doesn’t care who’s in his way, he only has sights on you. And when he reaches you, he grabs your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, like he hasn’t seen you in years.
It’s a short kiss, enough just to make sure you’re real, that this is real. When he pulls away, he wraps his arms around you and you wrap yours around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug.
You don’t want to let go because you’re afraid to lose this, to lose him.
Still, at this moment, you both know that the ritual didn’t work last night. Starting a family together, having a baby hasn’t been blessed by the Gods and has now been hindered. It’s something Estadir doesn’t understand. They lost innocent lives when the camp was attacked but didn’t win this war, meaning that the Gods haven’t chosen to balance the loss of innocent lives with another, one of his own. One of your own.
He tightens his hold around you, buries his face in your shoulder when he hears a quiet sob leave your lips. He knows you’re thinking about all this too.
Ivar watches the reunion, watches how you two seem to not want to let each other go. He’s never seen other reunited couples act like this. And though he knows that you both lost a lot of people today, both on the battlefield and at the camp, it’s different to see him silently comforting you in a tight embrace.
And though he knows that Estadir might just kill him for ruining this moment, plans do need to be made to protect the city and plan both a counterattack in case of an invasion or another attack so they can win.
Ivar turns his head to the side when you and Estadir pull away and walk off together, and he catches Ubbe staring at him. He shakes his head, telling him to leave you and Estadir be after what you’ve been through today. The thought that Ubbe is constantly watching him when you’re around makes Ivar roll his eyes and he turns to walk away. He’ll think about a plan himself, then.
In a far corner of the room, Estadir sits in a chair and leans forward on his elbows as he looks out to his people. All of them are lamenting, either for the loss of a husband, wife, child, son or daughter, mother or father, or friend. He sighs as you stand in front of him and reach down to take his hands in yours. “This is all my fault,” he whispers, moving his gaze to his hands as he shakes his head. “It was my decision to do the ritual quickly. I should have known that it would upset the Gods if we didn’t do it properly.”
You reach up with one hand to cup his cheek, and he takes this opportunity to pull you closer, between his legs. “Their wrath is indeed mighty,” he whispers, leans forward to rest his forehead on your stomach and his hands on your hips as you start to run your fingers through his braids. “I do not deserve their blessing,” he mutters.
Shaking your head, you look down at him and bite back the tears that his words have brought forth. “This is not your fault, Estadir. Look at me,” you softly beg, lifting his head as you stroke his cheek. He keeps his eyes closed so that he doesn’t show his weakness; his tears. “You can’t be all-knowing all the time, my love. You couldn’t have known that this would happen,” you whisper, wiping away the dirt on his face with your thumb as he shakes his head. He only allows himself to be weak in front of you, but never this weak. You’ve never really seen him cry. “My love-”
“What kind of a father would I be if I cannot even protect those that trusted me?” he cuts you off but his question only makes you shake your head at him when he finally opens his eyes. “I don’t deserve what the Gods have given me,” he says, dropping his gaze and pressing his forehead to your stomach again.
But you stop him, sit on his lap and hold his face in your hands so he can look directly at you. “Dedon wouldn’t have chosen you if you thought you unworthy. These people wouldn’t have chosen you to lead them if they didn’t trust that you would do everything you can to protect them,” you state, wiping away a fallen tear from his cheek before it can reach his beard. “You cannot change the fate of the Gods, even if you are their voice and bound to them.”
You don’t even realize that this is the first time you’re comforting Estadir as you would comfort others. But you’re speaking from your heart, where Virheia seems to be putting those words. And you know from the small smile on his face that it’s slightly working.
“I don’t doubt there will be another battle. So, we will do the ritual again,” you mention, resting your hands on his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. “And this time, we won’t rush into it. We will do it how it is meant to be done,” you add, and your words please him.
He nods in agreement before leaning forward to rest his head on your chest. Finding comfort in your heartbeat, he breathes out a sigh and lets his eyes flutter shut as you kiss the top of his head and stroke the side of his face with a tender touch.
Tonight, they will honor the dead before planning another ritual. And he knows, he will make sure of it, nothing will be overlooked, nothing will be avoided this time around. It might be different because of the lesser size, but the meaning will be greater than the last.
Now, there really has been innocent blood spilled.
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Hefna XII: Vega
Summary: You bid goodbye to Estadir on the morning of the battle, hoping that everything goes well. But it doesn’t.
Warnings: angst, little fluff, unrequited love, war, mentions of blood and killing, there’s a lot of angst in here, character death
Word Count: 2,575
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
It’s hard helping Estadir with his armor knowing that you won’t be able to be by his side on the battlefield, that you’ll have to wait to see if you win this war, find out why Vidar did what he did to Nork, find out if the Gods have blessed you with the gift of life.
He can see the worry on your face as you finish with his chest plate, reach up to cup your face, and turn your gaze up to him. You lean into his touch, nuzzle your face against his palm as your eyes close and a weary sigh leaves your lips. “You worry too much about me,” he chuckles, trying to make you smile.
And you do. You smile at the way he laughs as his thumb caresses the top of your cheek. “Just promise me you’ll come back to me,” you whisper, opening your eyes to look at him and to show him the desperation you have for him to return.
Nodding his head, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You know I will always come back,” he says, but you give him a look that tells him to do as you say. And it makes him smile. “I promise, to Dedon and the Gods, that I will come back to you. My word is my bond,” he states, making you smile a pleased grin and glance back down to his chest plate.
There’s a noise outside, making your head turn over your shoulder as Estadir glances up to the flap of his tent. It’s the sounds of an army coming and it makes Estadir go stiff because you’re not expecting anyone to come here. The plan was to meet Ivar and his army on the battlefield before the camp Vidar and his men set up.
So, he pushes past you and heads straight out the tent, ax in hand and ready for a fight. You know that his biggest concern is the safety of his family, that he is afraid of an attack on this camp. You also know that he would defend everything with every bit of his energy until there is nothing left.
Following him, you immediately see him standing just outside the tent and follow his gaze out to where he’s staring.
There is no threat. It’s only Ivar, upon his chariot and his brothers either side of him, and his army behind him. He thought that it would be better to meet here instead of on the battlefield and Estadir hates the change of plan. He sees any army that enters his camp as a threat until they leave, just to be safe.
You place a hand on his shoulder to calm whatever building rage he has inside him and he turns his head down to you when you stand by his side. “You should go. Don’t keep this fight waiting,” you mention, looking up at him as he turns to face you.
Estadir knows Ivar is watching, and if anything, he’s certain that the King still has some interest in you. So, just as a reminder to him that you belong to him, Estadir leans down as he pulls you closer with an arm wrapped around your waist and kisses you deeply. Almost as passionately as he did last night when you did the most important, most sacred part of the ritual.
The memory of that makes you smile and your hand shoots you to grip his braids as you kiss him back.
When he pulls away and breaks the kiss, certain that Ivar’s gotten the message and has been reminded, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes out a sigh. “Be safe, my love,” he whispers as he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear.
The next kiss isn’t as deep or passionate. It’s full of a tender kind of love, the kind that comes from the part of Estadir you’ve had to dig out of him. The kind that made you fall in love with him and the kind that you know he’ll only show to you and no one else.
This time when he pulls away to wait for your response, you find yourself lost for words and all you can do is nod your head. He lets you go, steps backward, and reaches down for your hand to give it a comforting squeeze as he continues to walk away.
You look at Ivar, bite your lower lip, and wrap your arms around your body as you turn your head back to look at Estadir who has mounted his horse and now rides towards Ivar. The rest of those that will fight with him prepare to leave as well, and you make your way to look for Alke knowing that she’ll need help preparing for the wounded when the fight is over.
Ivar turns his gaze to Estadir when he nears. “(Y/n) is not fighting with us?” he questions. He thought that you might have been a shieldmaiden and would have liked to see you fighting.
The question makes Estadir look up at him with narrow eyes and he stops his horse when he reaches the front of the King’s chariot. “She is forbidden by the Gods to fight today,” he bluntly mentions, drops his head to stare at his hands before turning his head to look for you again.
“Because of your ritual,” Ivar deducts, making Estadir’s head snap over to him.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Estadir grabs his reins tightly and takes in a deep breath as his lips pull out in a thin line. “What do you know of Skapanir?” he sneers, but Ivar can tell he does not want an answer. Instead, Estadir turns his head over his shoulder, shouts in that rough language Ivar’s ears have had some time to adjust to and his fighters joining the fight, ride forward.
You watch the two armies leave, riding out of camp and leaving it feeling almost deserted. Standing in one place for a moment, until you can no longer hear the army on the move. When it’s quiet, you sigh, drop your gaze down to the ground as you take a step forward.
They sit there, on the edge of the battlefield waiting for their opponent to show up. This isn’t like any war Estadir has fought in before. He’s never felt like a sitting duck before. It was always show up, fight, end the war. Quick and easy. The strongest always wins.
But he can see from the look on Ivar’s face as he tries to figure out what might be taking Vidar so long to show up that this is a game of smarts and trying to figure out the other’s move before they do it. Estadir doesn’t waste his time with such games.
It’s only when a horn in the distance sounds that Estadir’s interests peak and he straightens his back at the sight of something on the horizon. The army they had been waiting for.
Leading this army is the man Estadir can only guess is Vidar. Of course, Ivar knows it is, and he shifts in his spot and glances to his brothers before placing his helmet on top of his head. But Estadir notices something Ivar does not.
This isn’t Vidar’s full army that he had seen from the cliff with you. It lacks size, making Estadir think that there is either a trap, or they haven’t thought of something. It makes him shake his head and tighten his grip on his ax. “Something isn’t right,” he mutters, catching Ivar’s attention and making him turn his head to him. “This is not all of his men. I remember the size,” he mentions, keeping his gaze fixed on the enemy in front of him.
Ivar looks back out in front of him, shakes his head, and thinks to himself about what Vidar could be thinking, what he would use part of his army for if not to fight here.
Another horn blows, and Vidar’s men rush forward at the sound of a war cry.
And that’s the start of the war.
Alke made you leave, reassuring you over a hundred times that she no longer needed help with the things to heal those that might return wounded. She told you that she could see that you have something else on your mind, that you are of no use miserable to her.
You thought it would be good to spend time in thought in your tent, perhaps pray to Virheia and the Gods just for safety’s sake. Even though you know that after the ritual, it’s all to the Gods now and that prayer is essentially useless, you still like to think you can try.
Before you can even push open the flap of your tent, you get this terrible feeling running through your entire body. Like you need to get out, get away. It comes to you with a voice like the one you hear when Virheia speaks to you and it makes your heart drop to your stomach.
Turning your head over your shoulder to look out at the camp, the feeling grows stronger, making you lightheaded. And for a moment, you think the scream that you hear is only one that you imagine in your mind.
An arrow lands not too far from you, the tip in flames and looking for something to set ablaze.
Your name gets called, breaking you from your frozen state and making your head snap to the side. Now you realize what’s going on when you notice a few tents up in flames. The camp is being attacked.
A warrior rushes towards you, knowing that you are forbidden to fight because of Skapanir. He’s there to protect you and lead you to a horse to get you somewhere safe. He keeps a shield in front of him to stop any arrows and keeps you behind him as you look around wildly.
Men that belong to neither yours or Ivar’s army race through the camp, burning tents and killing anyone they come across. It only brings tears to your eyes to see them brutally cutting down a child in their way. The screams make you sick and seeing the blood of your family, innocent blood being spilled infuriates you.
Mounting your horse the moment you reach him, your eyes find Alke in the middle of chaos, looking for a way to get out. You shake your head, stare at her with wide eyes as she holds her hands up in surrender. She’s not a fighter, you know that.
“No!” you shout as you watch a man strike her down with a sword, shattering those beads she wears and making them litter the ground she falls to. The warrior protecting you smacks the back of your horse, making it gallop along with the others that try to escape on horseback.
You have to trust your horse and those around you to lead you to safety because of your clouded vision from the tears. When you see a hand around the reins you weakly hold, you know that you’re in safe hands of those that have managed to escape.
Still being able to smell the burning tents, you refuse to stop riding until otherwise. But you don’t know that the man beside you, a man who chose to stay behind to take care of his wife and daughter only to lose both, is leading you and what remains of the tribe to Kattegat.
If anything, the city that was once almost taken will be more protected than being out in the open.
A lot of people died before the choice to retreat was made. When part of the missing section of the army surprised them from attacking their sides, Ivar refused to change his plans, determined for that success.
Estadir knew then that they had lost. He saw his people, men, and women of all ages - some around the age he was when he fought his first fight - being slaughtered, their blood staining the earth, and their weapons lying beside them.
The call to retreat came to them like a breath of fresh air. But to Estadir, it doesn’t last when he catches sight of smoke in the direction the camp is in. His heart stops beating in dread before he shouts in rage and turns to grab a passing man off his horse.
He hates thinking that you won’t be waiting for his return, that he’s lost more than just this war.
Looking around, he sees that some of his remaining men who had also seen the smoke are now on horses themselves. They will go with him to see if the camp still stands while the rest retreat.
Ivar doesn’t notice what causes Estadir to leave in the other direction away from that of Kattegat until he sees the smoke rising in the sky. And he knows Estadir’s reason for racing away like a madman.
He follows the smell of the burning tents, the sounds of fire, through the forest he thought would conceal the camp from the battlefield. All he can think and he rides with his men at his side is how wrong he was.
“Dedon, do not take her from me,” he whispers to the God of Life and Death, closes his eyes when the smoke smell gets stronger. He dreads seeing his family dead.
When he does open his eyes, he sees some of the tents burned down completely, some still burning, and a great number of the tribe dead on the ground. He stops the horse, glances around with a heavy heart, and then slides off the horse.
He tries to remember where your tent is, but everything is so different now. One of his men shouts out for his woman, hoping that they have hidden somewhere. Estadir doesn’t have the heart to tell him that calling out is useless.
As he walks through the ruins of what used to be a place he called home, he steps on something that shatters, making his head drop and his eyes land on a scatter of beads. His eyes shift and meet the blood-stained, pale face of the healer.
“Alke,” he whispers in sorrow and kneels beside her. She’s a daughter lost, someone everyone in the tribe knew and cherished. Because of the vow she took when she became a healer, she could not protect herself. She could not harm someone. And the slash across her chest and face saddens him more.
He hears an owl’s call and turns his gaze away from the deceased healer to find the bird. It’s your owl. He could never mistake that white owl. And as it circles a tattered tent, he’s reassured that it’s your tent.
His heart races in his chest as he pushes himself onto his feet. Walking towards the tent, he prays that he doesn’t find your body inside, especially when he hears a man scream to the skies when he finds his son among the dead.
With the number of bodies on the ground, it would be a wonder if anyone got to safety. The numbers practically make up what he and the army left behind. He’s not sure how many were lost on the battlefield, but he knows one thing is certain.
The tribe is not as strong as it was before this war.
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Hefna XI: Skapanir
Summary: It’s time to do the ritual. Ubbe tries to stop Ivar from going to watch this ritual.
Warnings: unrequited love, angst, fluff, strong language, ritual things, mentions of blood, it’s not a very long chapter
Word Count: 1,836
A/n: I just want to thank those who are not a big fan of this story for still reading it and for giving feedback. It really means so much to me that you’re still going on XD
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
You never fail to smile at how skillfully the men in your tribe put together a pyre for any ritual. Seeing the piled wood in the middle of camp makes your heart race in your chest. It’s not as great as the pyres that get built for big rituals, this being just a small one because of the time you have to plan this, but it still makes you a bit excited.
You always get excited when there’s a ritual, and this ritual that involves you now only makes you more excited. You know it’s the reason behind the ritual that makes you so excited for tonight.
Hearing someone riding into camp, you turn your head over your shoulder to see who it is and your smile falls off your face when you see Alke dismounting her horse with small tears in her eyes. You quickly move towards her, but when she sees you, she quickly turns away and rushes towards her tent.
You follow her, keeping a neutral face as you pass those around you. And before you enter her tent, you hear a small sob from inside. Pushing open the flap aside, you find her discarding the beads she has taken off. “What happened? What’s wrong?” you softly ask, taking a small step forward when she turns to face you with an almost angry look on her face.
“It is impossible to try and get Ivar away from thinking about you,” she mentions with a small sob, shaking her head as she looks away from you. “How could he love me in return if all he wants is you?” she mutters and you can tell she is sad. “It was foolish to think I could ever have something like that.”
“It is not foolish to love, Alke,” you quickly state, walking closer to her and making her look back at you. “Or to hope for love in return. And to have your heartbroken, it happens when love is involved,” you add, stepping closer to her and making her angered expression fall and soften as she turns her body to face you.
She lets you take her hands and reach up to wipe a tear away from her cheek. “Has Estadir ever broken your heart?” she questions in a whisper, dropping her head between her shoulders to stare down at the ground.
You smile to yourself, chuckle, and stroke the back of her hand with your thumb. She waits for your answer, slowly lifting her head to look at you, the glossy shimmer in her eyes that still has tears in them encourages you to answer her question. “In the beginning, before he knew of my love for him, he did a few times,” you say, giving her a gentle smile as you squeeze her hand. “And now…”
“Now, you two are inseparable,” she finishes for you, a smile growing on her face as you nod your head. She chuckles, glances down to stare at her hand in yours, and nods her head as she looks back up at you. “You will be an amazing mother.”
Perhaps it’s because you’ve been like a mother to the tribe for all these years. It’s been like practice. But something also tells you that raising a baby is much different than being a mother figure.
Smiling to Alke, you lean forward to press a gentle kiss on her forehead before starting to back away from her. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you. But I promise you will find someone who will love you endlessly,” you whisper and she smiles at you.
“I do not think I will find that kind of love here in Kattegat, with Ivar,” Alke mentions, and you know that she’s made her decision to stay with the family. And you respect those wishes just as you would have respected if she wanted to stay in Kattegat.
Ivar can’t help his curiosity to see this ritual. Though he has half the mind to stop you and try and convince you that you don’t have to do a ritual like this, that everything will be fine without this ritual of yours.
What he doesn’t expect is for Ubbe to be at the door of the Great Hall when he intends to leave. “Where are you going, Ivar?” he questions, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on and folding his arms over his chest as he walks towards Ivar.
“That is none of your concern, brother,” Ivar sneers, heading to walk past Ubbe but he’s stopped when his brother places a hand on his shoulder. “Do not try and stop me.”
Ubbe raises an eyebrow at Ivar and lifts his hand, only to move in front of him when he tries to take a step forward. “I know you’re going to watch the ritual-”
“Then why are you in my way?”
“Because your people need you here. After your disappearance, they need you now hours before a battle,” Ubbe fights back, making Ivar roll his eyes and try to move past him again. “This is about (Y/n), isn’t it?”
That makes Ivar freeze and glare at his brother coldly. Shifting on his feet, Ubbe lifts his head confidently and takes a step backward. “She’s not your woman, Ivar. She has her own people to look out for, and so do you,” he adds, and Ivar doesn’t want to give in to these words.
Sighing deeply, Ivar glances over Ubbe’s shoulder to look outside the Great Hall. It’s already starting to get dark. And even though he hates it, he knows that his brother’s words are true. He needs to be here tonight before the battle.
And it will be the first night that he doesn’t spend with your people. A quiet night for him, even though he can hear the drums in the distance. He’ll focus on those drums, to stop him from thinking about what it is you and Estadir might be doing for this ritual.
Normally, with this ritual, you and Estadir wouldn’t see each other until the both of you meet up at the roaring fire to receive a blessing from the oldest member of the tribe and good wishes on the beginning of your own family. You’d have signs painted of your skin in blood, share a drink with your lover, feast, and dance in front of the fire before leaving to your tent to carry out the most important part of the ritual.
But, this is just a small ritual. You’d still receive the good wishes from the tribe and feast and dance, the only difference is that this is more like a normal night in the tribe.
Estadir meets you at the entrance of your tent, smiles when he sees the blue paint on your face. It seems that has become your link to Virheia. But he likes it. He loves seeing you with paint on your face. In his mind, it’s like being in the presence of Virheia herself.
“Are you ready, my love?” he asks, holding his hand out for you and you smile brightly as you place yours in his.
You look out to the celebrating people, nod your head and breathe out a deep breath. “I’m ready,” you state, squeeze his hand and take a step forward with him.
The moment you both step into the circle created by the tribespeople, a man shouts an announcement to both man and the Gods. The ritual can begin now.
Praises to the Gods are sung in voices like gargling at the back of the throat to the rhythmic beating of drums. It’s a praise to them, and a prayer to accept what you and Estadir are about to offer. The drums beat only two repetitive beats, over and over again until it’s like a trance, like they’re calling forth the Gods you and Estadir are linked to.
At the end of the praises and the calls, you hear the sound of screams, almost like one in pain. But you know this tells the story of what will happen. The screams; the ones that will be heard because of this war. It’s just one scream, but it sends a shiver through your body, and goosebumps erupt over your skin.
You know the next part well and it sends you forward to join the woman dancing in front of the large pyre and soon, you’re chanting the words that have been taught to you when you were a child; the runes of these people, that which the Gods have gifted to humans.
Estadir watches you lose yourself in the dance, offering yourself up the Gods. He watches as you move your hips to the rhythm, the drum beats vibrating through the floor and he starts to walk towards you when the beats softly die down.
Those around you slowly step away, still keeping to the beat of the music. You turn around to face him, the look in your eyes makes a breath catch in the back of his throat. It’s the kind of look he’s pretty sure you intentionally used to grab his attention all those years ago.
There’s another shout, one that echoes around the entire camp. The words are those of a victory, preparing for victory. Victory, in more than one way.
He walks around you, circling you and running his eyes all over your body. He stares at the painting marks on your face and moves his gaze down to your bare feet on the grassy ground.
You move towards him, reach out to touch his chest. His hands rest on your hips and he leans down to rest his forehead against yours, his body moving with yours to the calmer music now playing and the serene voice vocalizing to the skies.
The drumbeat pickles up, his hands running up your sides and a gasp leaving your lips when he touches your skin. He growls as you tremble in excitement beneath him. Leaning forward, his lips just touch yours, teasing them with a kiss as his hand descends your body again.
You know he’s not going to hold back on touching you how he wants to tonight, because you both know that everyone knows what you two will be doing when you leave this ritual. Why bother keeping it a secret?
Still, he’s gentle with you. Gripping your hips, he finally presses his lips to yours and kisses you deeply making the cheers around you fade away. Your heart chooses to match its beat with that of the drums around you.
When he pulls away, the chant returns to your lips, and Estadir starts to speak them too. He cups your cheek, strokes it lovingly as he touches his nose to yours, a sign of affection when he can’t say it.
If you could, you would leave with him right now and do the most important part of the ritual. But the night is far from over for either of you.
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Hefna VII: Stridha
Summary: You wake, tell Estadir what your Goddess has said to you and it makes him change his mind about meddling in a war he didn’t want to. The night is a festive one.
Warnings: angst, sluff, strong language, animal sacrifice, blood, pagan things, mentions of war, magical elements, unrequited love
Word Count: 2,873
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
The tribe knows that after an incident with a God through you or Estadir while they’re on the road, there won’t be any movement the next day. It’s the first calm day Ivar’s seen since he’s been here where the music is quiet and the fires barely burn. But Ivar’s actually more interested in your tent’s flap that hasn’t moved since Estadir took you inside. He wonders what might be going on inside.
Ivar doesn’t know that Estadir has been sitting by your side the entire night, never sleeping as he waits for you to wake. You could be asleep for hours, or minutes. He doesn’t know. But he wants to be awake the moment you come around and he’ll stay up all night if he has to.
It’s only at sunrise that you stir, making his head lift from between his shoulders. Seeing your head turning to him and your eyes to slowly open as you take in a deep breath, Estadir pushes himself off his chair and kneels beside you. He takes your hand in his a while lifting the other to your forehead to make sure you don’t have a fever.
Once, you did. And he was afraid that he would lose you with how sick you became.
But now, you’re fine. There’s no fever and it makes him breathe a sigh of relief. “Estadir,” you whisper, knowing his touch immediately and leaning your face into his hand.
“You’re alright,” he whispers, caressing your cheek as he leans forward to press his forehead to yours.
You hum, lifting a hand up to touch the side of his face as you start to recall what happened last night. “It’s all my fault. Last night, it was my fault,” you whisper, your hand falling away from his face to touch where you’re used to finding your father’s pendant. The pendant of Yggdrasil. And a token from a religion you do not follow.
Estadir shakes his head as he pulls away from you, still holding your hand in his and he gently strokes it. “How is this your fault? We see moments like this as blessings. You know this,” he whispers, a deep frown creases his forehead and his hand twirls the band on your wrist he had gifted to you a long time ago.
“I was holding on to my old Gods. The ones my father followed,” you say, dropping your gaze to your empty chest as you pull your hand away. “By holding onto my father’s pendant, I was holding onto the belief of Odin and the Aesir. The only way I could let that go was to burn down the thing holding me back,” you explain, closing your eyes to remember seeing the Great Hall burst into flames.
He shakes his head, and shifts in his spot to get you to look at him. “That doesn’t mean it is your fault. Virheia is not angry at you. I know because if she was, she would have withdrawn her blessing of having you as her envoy. And if that happened, you would have died,” he mentions, pushing a piece of hair away from your face and cupping your face as you smile and chuckle at his words.
You know he’s right. Virheia keeps you alive after every connection. And because you are still alive, it means that Virheia is still with you.
Pushing yourself up, you shift to make space for him to sit beside you. He moves beside you and pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as your head rests on his shoulder. “I asked Virheia to tell me why Vidar did that to my father. To Nork,” you whisper, resting a hand on his chest as his fingers trail up and down the side of your arm.
“And what did she say?”
“That the answers lie with Vidar.” Your words make him take in a deep breath and tense slightly as his hand stops stroking your skin. “I know what you’re going to say-”
“Do you?” he stops you, your head turning up to look at him and you frown in confusion. “You know what I’m going to say about the man that has hurt you?” he questions, an almost angry sound on his voice makes your face drop as you shake your head. “I saw how brokenhearted you were when you saw your father. Do you think I’m going to just let that go? You know what I do when someone makes you cry,” he says, bringing his hand up to your face and stroking your cheek as if he’s wiping away the tears he remembers seeing on your face.
You bite your lower lip and stare down at his chest. “You mean…”
He hums when you trail off and nods his head. “I will help the foreign king fight against Vidar,” he states, leaning closer to press his lips to yours.
It’s not a long kiss, but just long enough to make your smile. Then he pulls away from you and stands abruptly. “You must rest. Tonight, we’ll make a sacrifice and ask the Aestad to bless our travel and our upcoming war,” Estadir mentions, walking toward the entrance of your tent but stopping before he exits to turn around and face you. “I adore you.”
A bright smile grows on your face along with a small blush. That has always been the way he tells you he loves you, but he has never told you why. “And I adore you,” you whisper back, placing your hand on your chest above your heart as he does the same. Then you kiss the tips of your fingers as he bows his head to you before walking out.
Ivar’s head snaps up when he sees someone walk out of your tent. It’s Estadir. But the moment the mountainous man’s gaze lands on Ivar, he knows that it’s his intention to speak with him. Especially when he begins to walks forward.
Maybe he has come to ask for your pendant you pulled off last night. Ivar had gone back to see if anyone had picked it up, feeling as though he might make an impression if he returns a valuable object to you.
Estadir stands in front of him, the tribe gathering to see what their leader will say, what has happened to you. What message VIrheia has spoken to you, through you. “King of Kattegat. Your war with the man who tried to take your kingdom, it is important to you that you win?” he questions, his words thick with the accent Ivar had almost grown used to hearing, but now that Estadir speaks to him, he almost doesn’t understand his words.
But nonetheless, Ivar nods his head, waiting to see what’s going on in his mind. “We will fight with you in your war.” Estadir’s words cause a murmur and cheers to fall over the tribe and he turns around to face his people. A smile grows on Ivar’s face. You are probably the one to convince him to do this.
Then, Estadir speaks words that Ivar doesn’t understand, but they sound harsh, almost like a low bark that resonates in his chest and it makes the tribe shout in battle cries and cheers of elation.
And on Estadir’s words, the entire atmosphere in the camp changes. The fires seem to roar to life almost instantly and there is suddenly music spreading through the camp.
Ivar watches Estadir for the rest of the day, walking around to inspect people sharpening swords and axes, making arrows, or training to prepare for war.
It’s only until the sun is touching the earth that men and women stop their preparation for war and begin what Ivar imagines to be a feast. And when he sees a goat being brought out of a pen and tied to a pole beside a table containing a bowl and a knife, does he realize that this will be a sacrifice to your Gods.
Then, he catches you walking out of your tent. Finally. It must be the music that led you out of the tent.
You have paint on your face, just like you did when he first met you. He almost forgot how Goddess-like you look, how much you remind him of a Valkyrie with that paint on your face. And when he realizes that your mind is set on the goat that is to be sacrificed, he perks up in interest and walks forward to get a close viewing of it.
Estadir stands beside the table, picks up the knife, and hands it to you when you reach him. As you glance down at the animal beside you, you whisper something that Ivar can’t hear over the drumming and he watches you grab the bowl before kneeling in front of the goat. As you press the knife against the goat’s neck, Estadir removes his shirt.
Alke walks up beside Ivar, making his glance down at her for a moment before looking at you again at the sound of the goat bleating in pain as you slit its throat. You collect the animal’s blood in the bowl, not caring that some of it spills onto your hands as you stand to your feet again.
“She will paint the symbols of war on his chest, and that of Dedon, to ask for his protection for him and the tribe while we are at war,” Alke explains, knowing that this might be confusing to Ivar as he does not know their ways. As she speaks, you dip your fingers into the bowl of blood and begin to draw images on Estadir’s chest and stomach. “This is a very big thing for us all. This war,” she adds, looking up to him with a small smile on her face.
Ivar smirks and chuckles to himself. “He’s doing this for her. To prove himself to her,” he states, remembering how Estadir has a year to prove himself to be a good husband to you.
But Alke shakes her as a smile grows her face. “He’s doing this because he doesn’t like to see her heartbroken. Like how she was in that Hall,” she corrects, making Ivar think about your scream. “Because he loves her.”
When you are finished with the symbols on Estadir’s body, you place the bowl to the side but keep your stare on his face. He reaches for your hands, still stained with blood, and weaves his fingers with yours. Leaning forward, he presses his forehead to yours and tries to step forward to press his body to yours.
But you walk backward and shake your head, trying to keep him from staining your dress with the blood on his chest.
Ivar watches your interactions with the tribe members like he does every night, waiting for a moment he can get alone with you. Like he does every night. Even though Estadir has blood on his chest and you won’t let him pull you into his chest, he still tries to stay as close to you as possible. Ivar notices how Estadir keeps your hand in his, how he tries to make up for the lack of contact he normally has with you.
Then Estadir leans forward to kiss your forehead before he walks away from you. That’s the moment Ivar’s been waiting for. Again. And he follows you to your tent without a second thought, without even thinking about the implication of that.
As you wash your hands in a bowl in the corner of the tent, your owl screeches and makes your head turn over your shoulders to see who has entered. Your smile falls slightly when you see that it’s not Estadir, who you were expecting, but Ivar. Nonetheless, you keep your smile - even if it’s not as bright - and turn around to face Ivar as he walks deeper into the tent.
“I trust you are having a good time while you are with us,” you say, folding your hands in front of you as you walk forward.
Ivar chuckles and glances back to the flap of your tent for a second, listening to the music from outside before he looks back at you. “You’re people do things a bit differently than what we do,” he states, smirking at you as he takes one more step forward.
You shrug your shoulders and gesture to a seat beside him. Just as you did the first time he was in your tent. “Well, I think this world would be boring if everyone did things the same way,” you laugh. Running your fingers through your hair, you begin to pull the braids out as you slowly sit in the seat opposite from him
“You don’t miss your past life? When you worshiped Odin?” he questions, your hand stilling for a second as you breathe out a sigh.
With your hair loose and hanging over your shoulders, you look more relaxed, more at peace. Ivar thinks you should wear your hair down more. “No. I don’t miss it,” you confidently say, leaning back into your seat and resting your arms on the arms of the chair. “Virheia always keeps me on my toes. So, there’s never really a dull moment,” you chuckle.
But Ivar’s not amused. “And last night? You don’t mind going through that pain when your Goddess speaks to you or...uses you?” he questions with a slight shake in his head.
You don’t know if you should be offended by that question. You might have been if it was asked by someone in the tribe. But you have to remember that Ivar doesn’t fully understand the way things are here yet.
Still, you shake your head at him and bite your lower lip. “You don’t understand it. It’s a blessing to be Virheia’s voice and I wouldn’t give it up for anything,” you state, keeping a stern look on him as you don’t budge in your seat.
Ivar, thought, shifts in his seat and rests his chin on the back of his hand. “And is there anything you enjoy doing that doesn’t involve being the mother of this tribe and an envoy of a Goddess?” he questions, wanting to get to you more personally.
The question makes you go stiff and your eyes widen at the knowledge of his intentions. No one has ever really asked you this question. Estadir knows you well enough to not have to ask such things. Everyone else in the tribe...well, they don’t need to know something like that and they know their place.
He notices your stiffness and shifts forward. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”
“No, no, it’s alright,” you stop him, raising a hand to stop him from apologizing before you glance down to the ground. “It’s just that, I haven’t really been asked that kind of question before,” you mention, smiling to yourself as you think about an answer to his question. “But if you must know; maps.”
Your answer makes him frown, but he leans forward and smiles in interest, urging you to continue. “Sometimes, I look at the maps we have and I imagine what it would be like to travel to those places, what kind of people live there, what kind of life they live,” you explain, lifting your gaze up to him and smiling to yourself as you think of one particular map. “One place is called India. The stories I’ve heard of it… It’s indescribable,” you add, the awe in your voice and your eyes make Ivar smile.
All he can think is how he can give you that. He would sail with you to the end of the world. He would travel wherever your heart desires. He doesn’t know if Estadir would do the same, but Ivar would give you the entire world if he can.
He’s about to tell you about how Bjorn has traveled to other seas, how it can be possible for him to take you there one day, but when your owl screeches, he knows without turning around that his time with you is over.
You stand to your feet at the sight of Estadir walking into the tent and step forward to tear his glare away from the back of Ivar’s head. “You should get some sleep, King of Kattegat,” Estadir states when Ivar finally looks back at him. “We leave for your city at dawn.”
Ivar looks back at you and you give him a small smile with a reassuring nod. He stands and stares at you for a moment longer before turning around. Mimicking Estadir’s glare, Ivar passes him slowly.
It makes Estadir think that it’s a challenge and you can tell by the way his shoulders tense and his hands curl into fists. You quickly step forward and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, making his head turn down to you and his body to relax.
And out of a need to assert his authority over the foreign king that thinks he has a chance with you, Estadir presses his lips to yours and holds your face in his hands causing Ivar to roll his eyes and quickly walk out the tent.
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Hefna VI: Nork
Summary: You finally reach your childhood home, Nork, only to find that it’s not how you thought it would be like. That night, Ivar sees the true power of your Gods
Warnings: strong language, mentions of war, mentions of death, angst, magical elements, small fluff, blasphemy(?)
Word Count: 3,063
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
The tribe is on the move again at dawn and Ivar is starting to become fed up with this early rising thing going on. He wonders if there is ever a time where the tribe sleeps in after dawn. Nonetheless, seeing you makes him smile and forget about his tiredness.
He waits for a moment when you’re alone before moving in while on the road again. People always seem to be looking for a moment with you, some linger for a moment longer. But then he finally sees his chance. And even though he hears that you’re close to Nork, he still takes the opportunity.
As you dismount your horse, deciding to walk for a moment, you turn your head over your shoulder when you hear Ivar’s chariot coming closer. You give him a friendly smile, one you give to each and every man, woman, and child that comes up to you and Ivar sets his horse to walk in a pace he can keep with you.
Then, he notices how you don’t carry as much baggage as the rest of the people do. You only have a small parcel that you’ve rested over the back of your horse and your owl that’s perched on your saddle now. “You don’t carry your own stuff?” he questions, shifting to turn to face you and dropping his hands so that they fall in his lap.
You chuckle and turn your gaze out in front of you. “Estadir always carries my things for me,” you briefly mention, looking to your intended husband with a small smile on your face.
“Because you are going to marry him?”
“No,” you quickly reply, your voice not being raised out of shock or defense, but remaining in the same, calm tone you had since he started talking to you a few seconds ago. “It’s been like that ever since before he asked me to be his wife. He always carries both out things,” you explain, turning to look up at Ivar as you carry on walking forward, effortlessly stepping over a pile of rocks in front of you.
Ivar frowns at your words and looks out to Estadir farther on in front of the tribe. “Why?” he asks, turning to look back at you and finds that you’re staring at your fiance again.
Shrugging your shoulder, you tuck your lower lip between your teeth and gently shake your head. “I don’t know. But between you and me,” you begin, glancing up to Ivar as your voice drops slightly into a whisper, enticing Ivar to lean slightly forward and you lean ever so slightly closer to him. “I think he just likes to show off how strong he is,” you giggle, pulling away and looking back out to Estadir. “I’m not complaining though. I kind of like watching him flexing his muscle and I don’t get to carry my stuff. It’s a win-win for both of us, I supposed.”
Ivar hums to himself and looks back over to Estadir. He’s not going to deny that Estadir is so much bigger than any man he’s ever met. And maybe Ivar was a little bit intimidated by the colossal man. But a man like that must have a weakness.
As he remembers the events of yesterday, how he watched you calm his temper with one call of his name and one touch and then had him chasing you around the camp like a child 5 minutes later, Ivar realizes that Estadir’s weakness is you.
In the moment of silence between you and Ivar, you spot something in the distance and breathe out a small sigh. “Nork,” you whisper to yourself, breaking Ivar out of his thoughts and spotting a dull-looking city in the distance. “It’s changed so much. It used to be known as a city of color,” you state, handing the reins of your horse to a man beside you before making your way to the front of the traveling city.
You walk up to Estadir, your steps becoming heavy as you walk closer and notice why the city seems so dull than what you remember it to be. Estadir notices too and his hand reaches out for yours to provide you any comfort that you might need.
There are no guards at the city gates to ask what your business is here in Nork. There are no people filling the streets, no children playing with each other, no market tables selling a variety of things from distance lands. There is...nothing.
Instead, the streets are dead. The houses are abandoned, some burned down. There aren’t even corpses on the ground because their bones might have been carried off by wild animals. Nork is no more.
As you enter deeper into the city, you let go of Estadir’s hand and walk towards the Great Hall. It’s the only intact building in this square. But the doors are swinging wide open.
Ignoring Estadir’s words of caution, you walk up the steps leading to the open door, your hand gripping the pendant of Yggdrasil on your chest and a breath catching in your lungs at the smell that comes from inside. The smell of death.
You vaguely hear Estadir order that camp be set up outside of the city and you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you as you push the swinging door to the side. Stepping into the dark hall, you close your eyes and imagine what it was like when there was a feast here. And no one shines brighter in your memory than your mother and father.
When you open your eyes, the memory fades. And your heart sinks into your stomach when you see your father’s throne. “No,” you whisper, taking a small step back at the sight of a corpse on the throne. “No!”
Your scream alerts Estadir that something is wrong and he drops everything he holds, ignores the conversation he was having with a man and rushes up the steps and into the Great Hall with a sword in his hand.
But there is no threat inside.
He finds you kneeling beside the throne, beside the corpse, crying out to the skies with your head thrown back. As he steps closer, he realizes what’s wrong. The corpse on the throne wears a ring with the same tree on your necklace. The dead man on the throne is your father.
You turn your head to look at Estadir when he steps forward. “Vidar knew I escaped. He knew I would come back and he’s done this to taunt me,” you cry, pointing to your father’s corpse. “I watched my father die with a spear through his heart. That spear,” you spit, pointing to the spear in the corpse’s chest. “They didn’t bury him. Vidar didn’t rule Nork like I thought he would. Why?” you question, sobbing out as Estadir kneels in front of you.
He holds out his arms and you don’t second guess to fall into his chest. Kissing the top of your head, he brings your arms up to wrap around his neck and he slips an arm under your knees. He doesn’t say anything as he picks you off the ground and turns around.
Seeing that Ivar has walked in and has seen the entire thing makes Estadir glare coldly at him. He doesn’t like it when people interfere where they shouldn’t and he knows you don’t really like other people seeing you crying. It took you years before allowing yourself to break down in front of Estadir and that was after he helped you through your first connection with Virheia.
But he doesn’t say anything. He simply walks past him with you curled in his chest, trying to keep you sob at bay because you know that you’re about to be taken outside and you don’t want the tribe to see or hear you sobbing.
Ivar doesn’t see you for the rest of the day. Your tent was the first to go up on Estadir’s order and when he took you inside, that was the last anyone saw of you for the rest of the day.
Estadir walks around, never settling anywhere for more than a minute before moving on, making sure that everything is going well in the setting up of the camp. The tribe will be on the move again. Estadir doesn’t want to keep you close to a place like this for long and if he could, he would order the tribe to travel during the night. But it is unsafe in the dark.
Alke comes to Ivar after sundown to check on his wounds and make sure they’re not agitated from traveling. And it’s at this moment that he decides to ask her more questions about you.
“When did she become the voice of Virheia?” he questions suddenly, making the healer looks up at him with a small frown on her face.
She pulls away from him and sits on her heels. “(Y/n)?” she asks, earning a nod from him as he turns his gaze to your tent. Alke sighs and follows his gaze. “She was much older compared to Estadir,” she states, glancing down at her hands when Ivar looks back at her.
“So, that’s when they started becoming close? After she was chosen because he helped her through all that being the voice of a God entails?”
Alke chuckles at his words in amusement and shakes her head. “(Y/n) and Estadir have been close ever since she arrived. It was a good thing they were already best friends when she was chosen to be the voice of Virheia,” she explains, pushing herself to her feet but keeps her eyes on him. “It only strengthened the already strong bond they had with each other. Especially when he started to court her,” she adds, giving a short smile to him before walking away.
A few feet away from Ivar, one man has been listening to his questions about you and noticed how he seems interested in you. He notices how this foreigner’s gaze lingers on your tent after Alke walks away. And he knows Estadir will not like it.
Still, the man stands from his spot and walks over to Estadir who is on his way to your tent to check up on you. When Estadir sees the man, he stops in his tracks and watches him walk closer. “That foreigner has taken a liking to (Y/n),” the man informs.
Estadir takes in a deep breath and glances over to Ivar. “I know. I have noticed,” he whispers, tearing his glare away from Ivar and looking at the man. “What have you heard?”
“He asked about when she became the voice of Virheia. And then asked when she did, if that was when you both started getting close,” the man states, making Estadir hum and drop his gaze to the ground.
Then, the wind picks up in the camp. But the leaves don’t move. Thunder rolls across a cloudless sky. And Estadir knows that it’s not the drums being played in the camp.
Everyone turns their gaze up to the sky at the sound of thunder and they all stand to their feet. They know what is happening. On their lips, they whisper one name. “Virheia.”
From the moment Estadir lay you on the bed and told you to get some rest, you felt a strange sensation in your being. You tried to fall asleep, but the image of your father’s corpse on the throne keeps haunting your mind every time you close your eyes.
As you lay on your back, the palms of your hand facing up, a tear rolls down the side of your face as the blood in your body feels like it’s beginning to tingle. You know this feeling. You know what comes next. And you know how bad it will be by the way you owl give one loud shriek that normally tells you when someone enters the room.
Virheia is here.
“Tell me why,” you whisper to her, even though you can’t see her. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel a warm glow spread over your body until it begins to burn like fire. But you don’t scream. You’ve felt it before. The first time she spoke through you was the worst but from then on, it got better.
When you open your eyes again, you see everything in a new light and a new way. You see how things were created and the inner workings of everything. You hear the voice of Gods whispering down from the skies. But you are not in control of your body.
Before Estadir can walk into the tent to make sure you’re handling this connection well, you walk out with a trance-like look on your face; your eyes hazed over with a golden glow, your mouth whispering things he cannot hear. He doesn’t call your name. Doing so would break the connection and he can’t do that without anything bad happening.
Ivar notices what’s going on and pushes himself off his seat. There is something different about you now. Something in the way you carry yourself out of the camp and toward the destroyed city of Nork.
A crowd follows you into the city again, Estadir right behind you and Ivar right behind him. In the wind, Ivar can hear a quiet voice whispering, a voice that sounds like yours but he thinks that he’s just imagining things. There’s no way this entire thing is real. Your Gods don’t exist, they’re just mocks of his Gods and the only way the Gods can speak to them is through a seer.
But Ivar doesn’t have any other explanation for this.
You stop at the steps of the Great Hall, stare at it for a moment as the wind dies down. Estadir thinks it’s over, so he steps forward. Connections with the Gods can range from small encounters to almost full possession. They can end without taking too much energy out of the envoy, or drain them so much that they sleep for days. Both you and Estadir have experienced both sides.
But when your head falls back and a pained scream falls from your lips, Estadir knows that this is on the highest part of the spectrum of being an envoy of a God. You sink to your knees and hold out your hands to face the skies as you scream again, sobbing between screams and your body hunching over as you mutter in a language foreign to everyone around you. Everyone except Estadir.
Ivar glances over to Estadir, shocked to see a completely calm look on his face when he is disturbed by your screaming. “How can you be so calm to see her like this?” Ivar sneer, trying to get Estadir to look at him, but he doesn’t even blink. Scoffing in disbelief, he tries to step forward to try and help you. But Estadir holds out his arm and stops him from moving forward. Ivar glares at him, But Estadir still has his gaze on you as you fall over onto your hands. “You don’t really love her, do you? Why else would you subject her to this pain?”
“You may accuse me of anything you wish,” Estadir yells over your screaming, turning to face Ivar and pushing him back, his hand returning to his chest to stop him from moving forward again. He’s raging, the look in his eyes almost like when he was scolding that man for his mistake. And even though he towers over Ivar slightly, Ivar keeps his ground and glares coldly at him. “But never that I do not love her. It pains me to see her like this, but if I stop her now, the outcome would be much worse than just this,” he spits, pointing back at you as you whimper and push yourself back onto your knees.
With that, Estadir turns back to you when he hears you speaking louder than before. His jaw is clenched as he keeps Ivar in the corner of his vision to make sure he doesn’t rush forward to stop your connection. “She would die,” Ivar states, realizing that from Estadir’s reaction. But he doesn’t receive a spoken answer, only a stiff nod.
Then, the Great Hall bursts into flames that shoot through the ceiling as you rip off the Yggdrasil pendant around your neck. Your screaming stops and you blink, the celestial power you felt in your veins starts to vanish. You start to see things like you’ve always seen them since you can remember. Plain, and normal.
Estadir notices everything. From how your body stills, to your rapidly rising breathing. And as the pendant slips out your hand and your body begins to sway, he rushes forward and drops to his knees behind you, catching you before you pass out.
He touches the side of your face, your eyes closed and your skin slightly pale. But you’re still warm, which is a good sign.
Picking you off the ground, he stands and turns around to walk back to camp, leaving the Hall to burn as Virheia wanted it to. “Is she okay?” Ivar questions trying to walk with Estadir back to the camp.
“She’s fine. She just needs rest,” Estadir bluntly says, a cold tone on his voice as he recalls how he has taken a liking to you. Your well-being is no concern of Ivar. It’s Estadir’s concern.
When Ivar tries to follow into your tent, Estadir turns around to stop him. Ivar’s eyes fall to you, curled up in his chest and an almost dead look on your face. “I appreciate your concern, King. But I have to ask you to let me take care of her myself,” he says with a low voice, glaring sternly at Ivar and waiting for him to fight back. He’s ready for anything Ivar says against him.
But he says nothing.
Estadir turns around and walks into your tent, leaving Ivar standing alone and staring at the flap. He can hear the owl inside, but his mind is still plagued with your screams. It seemed all too real to be anything other than what he’s been told.
Virheia speaking through you.
The Goddess of Blessings using you to do her bidding. To burn down your father’s Great Hall?
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Henfa III: Skulda-lið
Summary: Ivar learns a little bit more about you from Alke and by asking you some things when you come back from a hunt.
Warnings: not much happens, just a filler chapter really, getting to know the religion and stuff like that
Word Count: 2,038
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
It’s like the music in the camp-like civilization never ends. It’s louder in some parts, but it never dies down completely. Ivar realizes that the music, the drum beats are louder in the middle of the camp. In the heart of the civilization.
The heartbeat music only ends when the day ends. Ivar learns his first night that it ends very late.
The night routine for the tribe is pretty simple. Everyone gathers around a fire in the center that’s lit the moment the sun disappears. Food is prepared, roasted, and served and it’s enough to feed Ivar’s Heathen Army probably 5 times over. There’s no distinguishing between the ranks like how Ivar and his people would do it. Everyone is level.
And you and Estadir sit on the ground, close together. When you move, so does he. And when he moves, so do you.
Ivar notices that there’s no order around this massive campfire. People dance in ways Ivar’s not familiar with, singing words he doesn’t know, and break out in fights for no apparent reason. It seems to be a form of entertainment because whenever there’s a victor, everyone cheers and bursts out in laughter.
But Ivar only hears Estadir’s laughter.
When you decided to join in on a dance, Ivar couldn’t stop staring at you. The way your hips sway with the music, how your arms dance like the flames of the fire in front of you. How the light casts shadows on your face that...that makes you look like a Goddess.
Estadir notices the newcomer stares at you intently, watching every movement you make in awe. And he feels a slight tingle of jealousy and anger. But he has to remind himself that Ivar is new here. He’s probably never seen something like this before and it’s all so new to him, he can’t help but stare in wonder. But can’t the king stare at a woman that is destined to marry someone else?
At the end of the night, Ivar watches how Estadir walks you to your tent, his hand resting on the curve of your back almost as if he’s afraid to touch you. At the entrance of your tent, you turn to face him and reach up to push his long braid over his shoulder before your fingers trace his jawline.
It’s a good act, Ivar thinks.
Estadir softly touches your face and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. Your shoulders tense up as you wrap your arms around his neck, his hand dropping from your face rests now on your hip so he can pull you closer.
It’s a very good act, Ivar thinks again.
And when you pull away from him, there’s a small smile on your face as you slowly back away from him. Ivar sees Estadir saying something to which you reply to before he turns around to walk away.
Ivar wants to follow you into the tent. He wants to talk more to you to satisfy the need to know more about you. But it’s getting late and he can imagine how tired you must be.
The day starts early in this tribe too. Ivar doesn’t understand how these people can function on little sleep.
While Alke checks Ivar’s wounds to make sure that he’s healing properly, he hears the bustle outside start to pick up. He’s just waiting for the drums to start beating again.
“How was your experience the first night with the family?” Alke questions, pulling Ivar’s attention away from outside the tent and back down to her. “It must have been different for you.”
Ivar smirks at her and chuckles to himself. “Do your Gods demand that you act like that every night?” he questions, her head snapping up to him and an almost angry look crossing her face.
“Our Gods are not demanding,” she states, sitting back away from him and grabbing a wet cloth to wipe her hands. “It is not a celebration we do every night. It is a chance for us to be who the Gods made us to be. To be one with all that is around us; wind, earth, fire,” she explains, standing to her feet and turning to walk to the other side of the tent. “To be a part of all that Dedon made,” she whispers, more to herself than to explain something to him.
He pushes himself off the healer bed, steadies himself on his crutch, and walks forward. “And (Y/n) believes all that?”
Alke turns around in confusion, frowning at him and shakes her head. “She would not have been chosen to be an envoy of Virheia if she didn’t believe that,” Alke snaps, taking offense in his words as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“And what exactly does that mean? Being an embodiment or envoy or whatever else you call it?” he questions with just a harsh tone in his voice as the healer had.
“The Gods choose who they wish to speak through. When we are in need of answers from them, they speak through their chosen person,” she states, narrowing her eyes at him as if to warn him to not insult her belief any farther. “There can only be one envoy for each God. It is an honor to be chosen. Though, it is unsure how the Gods choose.”
Ivar bites his lower lips and nods his head. “And because your leader and she are both envoys, it is a duty to marry each other?” he questions, glancing back to Alke.
She just stares at him and shakes her head in disappointment. Turning to the side, she holds her arm out to gesture to the flap of her tent as an invitation for him to leave. “There is still much you need to learn,” she mutters, dropping her arm and turning around to carry on with her own things.
He doesn’t say anything as he walks out the tent. It’s not Alke’s company he wants anyway. He wants your company.
He knows you might have some duties to do as the ‘mother’ of the tribe, so you might not be in your tent. Keeping an eye open as he walks around the camp, he notices how there is never a person not busy. Everyone is doing something to contribute to the tribe.
Like a true family.
He hears a group of riders coming into camp, and when he turns his gaze to the almost herd of riders, he sees you right in front with a bow slung on your back and the caress of a deer behind you.
This herd of riders must be how the tribe is provided with meat. What he doesn’t understand is why you are the one that leads the hunt. He’d expect some like Estadir to do that.
You spot Ivar walking towards you as you dismount your horse and hand your bow to a man beside you. Smiling as you walk to meet him halfway, Ivar almost forgets entirely about how you kissed Estadir last night.
“You seem to be healing quickly,” you state, scanning over his body briefly before looking back to his face. “Alke has done a great job like always,” you chuckle.
Ivar turns to walk by your side and he gives a light laugh. “I would still be dead if you hadn’t saved me from the battlefield,” he mentions, smiling at the dream-like memory where he thought you were a Valkyrie.
And when you laugh again, his head turns to you and he smiles even more. “I’m sure the Gods wouldn’t have let you die so easily,” you state, glancing up to him and biting the inside of your cheek when you find that he’s staring at you.
“My Gods or your Gods?” he questions, both of you stopping in your tracks and turning to face each other.
You smile. “Why not both?” you question, smirking at him when he continues to stare at you.
Ivar clears his throat and shifts on his feet. He glances down to the ground for a second before looking up to you when you turn to walk again. “Do you lead the hunting party every day?” he decides to question, walking with you again and not wanting the conversation between you two to end. Not so soon.
You laugh, fold your hands in front of you and quickly doge a passing child. “We do not hunt every day. We only hunt when our food supply is low,” you state, turning your gaze up to him and finding that he’s staring at the child that passed in wonder. “But when we do hunt, I go with the hunters to bless the hunt. And to thank the Gods for providing for us.”
He nods his head and turns his attention back to you. “That’s part of your job as the voice of Virheia?” he asks, earning a small nod from you. “How were you chosen?”
Your head turns to him at his question and you stop walking. He’s curious, you can tell. But you had almost forgotten about the night of when Virheia chose you to be her envoy. “I don’t know how I was chosen, why she chose me, or what made her decide that I was the better choice than anyone else in this family. But one night, a long time again, before I was even made the mother of the family, she spoke through me,” you explain, smiling to yourself as the memory flashes through your mind.
“She spoke through you?” Ivar asks, frowning down at you as you gently nod your head.
Your eyes lift off from the ground that you find yourself staring at and to look at his face. “I remember that there was thunder, even though it was a clear night. There was a gale wind, even though the trees were still. And then there was a voice that came from within,” you say, your hands resting on your stomach and you mimic how it felt when the voice of Virheia spoke through you. “I remember being scared but when she told me who she was, it just felt right. It felt like this was who I’m meant to be. And the only one that understood all that was Estadir.”
Ivar’s smile that grew while he listens to your story fades at the mention of Estadir. “He was already the leader?” he asks, making you chuckle and nod your head at him as you carry on walking.
“Estadir was chosen to be Dedon’s voice after his first hunt. And that was a very long time ago. Dedon led him to be where he is now, and he has protected all of us without fail because of the help he receives from Dedon,” you explain, smiling to yourself as you gaze down to your hands.
Taking in a deep breath, Ivar turns his head in front of him, hoping that he hides his jealousy from you. But he reminds himself that you possibly don’t really want to marry Estadir. This is just an act. And he has to try and get you to break the act.
He sees Estadir moving between a crowd of people. Not sure if the angry look on his face is there because he is angry, or if that’s just his normal facial expression. He stops in his steps and you notice that.
Lifting your gaze, you see what Ivar has seen and a bright smile grows on your face. You step forward and reach a hand out to him. You notice he has a stern look on his face, but the corner of his lips tug up in a smile when he reaches you. He touches the side of your face, just like he did in the tent. And the previous night.
Estadir’s gaze lifts and lands on Ivar before he can say anything to you. “We will talk now,” he simply says, shocking Ivar by how he knows his language.
“About what?” Ivar questions, earning a stern glare from the man who snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.
“About the invasion of your kingdom and why you are here.”
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Hefna V: Fara
Summary: Ivar decides to come with you and the tribe. After Estadir has a bit of an outburst, you explain a bit more about him to Ivar.
Warnings: unrequited love, fluff, little angst, strong language, mentions of anger issues, nomadic life, not much, my Grammarly didn’t want to work so please pardon any grammar mistake I missed
Word Count: 2,593
Hefna Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Taking down the tents is an easy thing for the tribe and it’s evident that they’ve done it a hundred times before. It’s all the commotion around him that wakes Ivar and makes him realize that he had fallen asleep against a tree while he was waiting for a chance to speak with you.
Almost all of the house-like tents have been taken down. Yours and a few others remain standing and Ivar knows why yours still stands. Because no one has come out just yet.
When someone finally exits your tent, Ivar sees that it’s Estadir, confirming his thoughts that he spent the night with you. You step out after him, dressed and ready for the move with your owl on your arm that you keep out straight. Estadir turns around to face you, reaches out to touch your cheek, whispers something before leaning in to kiss you.
And Ivar sees you kissing back. You and Estadir must have made up last night.
As you and Estadir part ways, your gaze meets Ivar’s and you move towards him as men start to move things out of your tent and pack up. Ivar pushes himself off the ground, using his crutch for support and dusting off the leaves stuck on his leg braces.
You’re a few feet away from him, he turns his gaze to you and gives you a small smile. “Have you made up your mind yet if you will come with us or not?” you question, standing in front of him, a small smile on your face.
Ivar glances down to your lips, thinking about the number of times he’s seen Estadir kissing you. Or you kissing him. And he notices how slightly swollen and red your lips seem to be today.
He wants to go with. More because he wants to go to be with you, but if anyone asks him, he’ll say that he wants to learn more about the tribe and their way of life.
Ivar gives a small smile to you and steps forward. “I will come with you,” he states.
You nod your head and smirk as you glance over to a man beside you. The man had been waiting for your order and when you look at him, he gives a small nod before turning to walk away. “We found a chariot on the battlefield and I had a feeling it was yours,” you mention, turning back to face Ivar who raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I had it cleaned and fixed up for you. It’ll make traveling easier for you, yes?” you say, smiling at him as your owl croons.
He gives you a thankful nod before looking to your owl. “You two seem pretty close,” he states, pointing to the white bird on your arm that you gently start to stroke. You hum in agreement, biting your lip at how he quickly turns the conversation into something personal. But you don’t mind it all that much. “A gift? From Estadir?”
Laughing at his words, you shake your head and look back up at him. “No. No, I found her myself,” you state, petting your shoulder as a sign for her to shift up to your shoulder when you feel your arm growing tired from holding it out. “She was being sold in a market in a town we were passing through to trade, and I didn’t think that she deserved to be locked in a cage. Luckily, she was already tame enough to not fly away,” you explain, glancing at her when he perches herself on your shoulder, her head turning around to inspect her surroundings.
“Then, a few months later, I found out why she wouldn’t fly away. Because her wings had been clipped,” you add, looking to him again and finding that he’s staring at the owl. “When she molted again, she decided to stay. Almost as if she knew that if she left, she wouldn’t survive a day out there on her own.”
Ivar looks at you again, the glimmer in your eyes makes him smile and he takes a small step forward. Before he can say anything, the man that had gone to fetch the chariot returns with it attached to a dark brown horse. Ivar’s mouth falls to see how well it has been repaired. It’s just like the day Floki gave it to him.
You chuckle at his reaction and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. His head snaps to you at your touch. “Don’t fall too far behind,” you chuckle, stepping past him to carry on with your duties to make sure everything is going to plan so that the tribe can be on the move by sunrise.
Which is soon.
Ivar’s never seen anything like this before. When the camp is empty, there are only small traces that they were there. And before he joins the tribe on their move, he glances towards Kattegat and breathes out a sigh. He’s sure that the kingdom is in good hands.
It’s amazing how fast a group so great can travel. The distance covered before reaching the first resting point amazes Ivar. He was so invested in watching your interactions with the men, women, and children around you, he hadn’t noticed how the sun has passed its highest point and now begins to sink back into the earth.
Ivar rides up beside you as you enter the chosen camping ground close to the foot of the mountains. You’ve chosen to stay a bit behind to make sure those at the back of the group are alright. And when Ivar stops beside you, your gaze turns away from the back of the tribe to look at him.
“Your people really know how to travel,” he mentions with a small chuckle on his voice, your head turning back to the last few people at the back as you hum at his words.
“Well, the majority of them have done this their entire life,” you mention, gripping the reins tighter in your hands as you urge your horse to start walking again. “We don’t stay in one place for long. Expect Holar,” you state, seeing him moving forward with you as you enter the camping grounds.
Ivar bites his lip and glances down to stare at the reins in his hands. “Right. Your Gods’ sacred place,” he mutters, your head turning to look at him again and his head turning to look at you again.
A loud ‘crack’ bounces off the stone of the mountains and your head snaps towards the horse pen. Men have gathered around to try and stop the horses from running off and calm down those that were spooked by the sound. And not far from the pen, you spot Estadir moving towards the pen with a furious look on his face. “Oh, no,” you whisper, lightly digging your heels into your horse’s side to trot forward.
“What happened?” Estadir’s voice booms through the entire camp, surprising Ivar because he didn’t think he had the capability to sound so...rude. “Who was responsible for building the pen?”
Everyone looks to a man holding the reins of four horses. The man gulps harshly and takes a step forward to claim his guilt. Estadir glares at the man and walks towards him in a deafening silence. “Do you realize that if someone hadn’t been close by, we would have been without horses?” he questions, everyone around whispering very quietly to each other because they haven’t seen him so angry in a while. “You’re stupidity would have cost us time! Why didn’t you check your work before leaving?” The man doesn’t answer. “Speak!”
You quickly dismount your horse as the man stutters out an apology and a promise not to do it again. “Your apology is weak and-”
“Estadir,” you gently call, your voice surprisingly silencing him so easily and him to take a deep breath as you place a hand on his shoulder.
He glances over his shoulder at you for a second before looking back to the man. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, turning to the side and quickly walking away. You give the man a small smile and nod for him to carry on with his job before walking away.
Ivar thought you might go after Estadir after that scene, but you don’t. You walk back to your horse that he’s stopped beside and pull the reins off your horse’s head. “I wasn’t aware that Estadir had a bit of an anger issue,” he says, your head turning up to him at his words and you shake your head, as if to warn him not to dwell too much on the topic.
“He’s working on it,” you simply say, moving to the side of your horse to start unbuckling the saddle.
“Let me guess; to prove he’ll be a good husband for you?” Ivar question, your hands stilling and your head dropping between your shoulders as you breath out a long sigh.
Turning around to face him, you fold your arms over your chest and nod your head. “I knew that he was going to ask me to marry him. And one day, I got impatient. So, I kept pushing him to tell me when he was planning on asking.”
Estadir has never been one to control his temper. He never thought that was necessary. You know that. But you also know that he knows when you’re being playful. You thought this was one of those times.
“Come on, Estadir. Tell me when you’re going to ask me,” you urge again, oblivious to the way his hand curls in a fist on the table in front of his as you playfully push against his shoulder.
He slams the fist on the wooden table, almost cracking it as he stands from his seat to tower over you, making you sink deeply into the chair. “Perhaps I have changed my mind in marrying a nagging woman,” he snaps, a breathing catching in your throat at the sight of his dark eyes full of rage. And when he leans down to place his hand on either side of your head on the back of the chair, you cast your eyes down. “Do not pester me about this, (Y/n). Do you understand me?”
You quickly nod your head, keeping your gaze down as you bite your lower lip to stop the tears in your eyes from falling. After a moment of silence, you shake your head and push yourself off the chair, dipping under his arm and quickly walking out of his tent.
Estadir sighs when he realizes what he’s done and he doesn’t even think about rushing off after you, calling your name without anger in his voice.
“I was surprised at how quickly his senses came over him because he followed me right away,” you carry on explaining to Ivar, smiling to yourself at the memory playing in your mind. You don’t even see Ivar staring at you in shock.
Estadir slowly reaches to cup your face in his hands to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. “Please forgive me, my love,” he quietly begs, stepping forward to press his forehead against yours.
You lean into his touch and place a hand over his. “I do forgive you. But this is getting out of hand,” you whisper, stroking the back of his hand as he sighs. “I don’t know if I can marry someone like that-”
“I promise you, I will work on it. Not just for you, but for the family,” he stops you, nuzzling your face with his and making a small smile grow on your face. “So I can be a good leader. And a good husband.”
“Sometimes, he still has his outbursts. But they’re not as bad as what they were,” you finish, turning your head to him and smiling when you reach the end of your story.
He blinks at you, shocked at what you’ve told him and you take his silence as an opportunity. “I should go check on him,” you whisper, petting the neck of your horse before walking away from Ivar.
Ivar is shocked. And as he watches you walk away, he can’t help but think that he would never treat you like that. He would never shout at you.
You find Estadir in front of a bowl of water, washing his face and taking in deep breaths to calm himself down. A thought crosses your mind and you step towards him.
Walking around to stand in front of him, you dip your fingers into the water and twirl them around, catching his attention and lifting his gaze from the water up to your face.
“What are you doing?” he questions, seeing the sly look on your face that he knows all too well.
Biting your lower lip, you shrug your shoulder and lift your eyes to him. Then you flick your fingers, splashing him with water and making him close his eyes. He takes in another deep breath, brings a hand up to his face and wipes the water off his cheeks as you giggle. “Now, why would you do something like that?” he questions, full seriousness in his voice as he glares at you.
But you know that it’s a playful glare. You simply shrug your shoulders again and sway innocently as you glance down to the bowl again. Hearing him chuckle deeply makes you look back up to him. “You’re going to pay for that,” he whispers, cupping his hand under the water to fill them.
You slowly back away when you see his water filled hand and laugh. “Estadir, no,” you warn, but your laugh makes it sound like you’re not at all serious.
“Come back here, (Y/n),” he chuckles, walking after you and keeping a steady gaze on you.
Before you can run away, he throws whatever water he has left in his hands at you, making you shriek and grabbing the tribe’s attention just as Estadir chances after you.
You weave through the busy people who laugh at the way that Estadir chases after you, moving to the side to let him through and smiling at how you two act like star crossed lovers.
Because Estadir is bigger than you, one step for him is like two for you, he catches up to you quickly and catches you easily. Grabbing you by your waist, he picks you up off the ground and pulls you into his chest, making you scream and playfully hit his arms. He turns you around and stumbles backwards when you fall forward.
Landing on top of him when he falls to the ground, he grabs your hands to stop you from trying to push away. Rolling over so that you’re on his back, he pins your hands beside your head and peppers kisses on your cheeks. “Estadir, stop it,” you giggle, pressing your head against his as he starts to move to your neck.
“I’ll stop when I get a proper apology from you,” he whispers, pulling away to smirk down at you, chuckling when he sees a pout on your lips and a shake in your head. He breathes out a short sigh and shakes his head in disappointment. “Fine.”
Then he lets go of your hands and digs his fingers into your side, wiggling them and making you shriek and burst out laugh as he tickles your side. “No! Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” He stops, raising an eyebrow as you look up at him with a flustered back.
Grabbing the front of his tunic, you pull him back down to press your lips to his.
Ivar watched the entire thing. And it’s starting to become hard to believe that this is all just an act between you and Estadir…
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I know that Hefna isn't everyone's favorite but I want to thank those who aren't liking Estadir and/or reader for continuing to read it and comment and reblog it 🥰I swear, we'll have more Ivar x reader stuff soon 😂❤️❤️
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