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lisinfleur · 4 years

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FTM - Chapter 2: What separates boys from men

Author’s Notes | Second part of this small series! Hope you guys are enjoying! Words | 4353 ⁑ Warnings: Cursing. Mentions to betrayal and fat-shaming.

It was there.

Nevertheless, as he imagined, it wasn't easy.

To be a better man for you was a challenge he had to face with all his heart and Hvitserk wasn't really finding obstacles when he was with you. The moments by your side were just proving he took the best decision he could've ever taken: you were indeed an amazing wife, sweet company, gentle, always up to make his days better and prone to satisfy his needs even more and better than any other lover he ever had.

It was true he didn't have sex with you again yet, but the truth was that it didn't happen yet because of his lack of invests: Hvitserk was still thinking it was too soon to go for something so intimate when the two of you were building something he could see would grow into this level. It wasn't time to search for you yet and waiting to have his sexual desire satisfied was also proof of his change he was giving to himself.

He could find sex wherever he wanted. But he would wait for your time to give it to him once again.

However, he couldn't say it wasn't hard to avoid the "chances" he had everywhere. Getting rid of his ex-lovers was something worse than taking a bath after one huge combat: they were stuck to him like blood between his braids, finding ways to pop out of street corners or cornering him around, trying to get him by the dick as they’d always done.

The fight against his body was the hardest part, but the way his mind was focused helped him not only to fight his own need but also to see things he had never seen...

Many of those women he had in his bed really knew he was married. They not only knew, but they liked to know they were able to take him from his wife's bed! Some of them reached levels of cruelty in their words post being rejected that Hvitserk started feeling disgusted by the memories of every moment he shared with them against his skin.

"Do you think she doesn't know, Hvitserk? What woman wouldn't want to lay with a prince? What pig like her wouldn't know a man like you would want beautiful women by his side?"

"She's not even a woman!"

"By the gods! You'll exchange me for that bunch of meat?"

"Don't come back when you're tired of searching for her cunt in the middle of all that fat, prince Hvitserk!"

Their cruelty was... Despicable. To start for the smaller of the adjectives he could think about those women now.

Every time he would hear such a terrible thing about you from the former lovers he had just shoved away, Hvitserk would come back home and find you there, showing more of those sweet smiles, preparing different recipes for his meals, new clothes you started making for him or even simply being there to kiss his lips and welcome his tired self into the cottage you were turning into his favorite place in Miðgarð.

And it would fill him with the strength to continue changing more and more, facing more and more his own mistakes and changing himself into a better husband for you.

"So... I can see you're growing better."

Words from Ubbe that caught Hvitserk's thoughts from his moment at the Hall's table. He had gone there to drink with his brothers - this time for real, not as a disguise to leave you home for some whore around.

"What?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup and Ubbe smiled.

"You see, some women around have no shame to spit to me their anger about your... Madness," he mocked his lovers' words, smiling at Hvitserk. "I supposed they're becoming angry after being rejected since you seem to have chosen to settle down with your wife. Am I right?"

Hvitserk smiled, but before he could speak, Ivar intromitted himself on the conversation intrusive, as always.

"Our brother was always gluttony, Ubbe. It's not a surprise to see him choosing the bigger dish to devour."

In a different situation, he would've rolled his eyes. Ubbe was ready to reprehend his little brother for the mean comment as the reasonable voice he was always among them but it was Hvitserk's voice to be heard, surprising them all.

"Stop," he grunted, looking at Ivar. "It's not the first time you have mean words to speak about Y/N and I may have been quiet until now, but Ubbe is right. Things have changed and I decided to honor my trousers and stop being a boy which includes protecting my wife from mean words like these."

Ivar rolled his eyes, sipping from his cup as Sigurd and Ubbe were observing that scene with different tones of surprise in their faces: Ubbe, mostly taken by Hvitserk's rampant of maturity; and Sigurd, by the idea he wouldn't be the only one in that table facing Ivar's mean words anymore.

"You have to admit she's quite different from your usual taste, Hvitserk. And now that Ubbe is growing fond of Torvi, I was expecting you to do everything but embracing the female grizzly bear you were forced to marry and accepting your fate. Especially when Margrethe is free to..."

"I said stop!"

This time Hvitserk's voice was angry, followed by a punch of his heavy fist against the wooden table.

"My wife has a name, and her name is Y/N. And you will call her by her name and stop these mean comparisons right now, Ivar! Enough of your poisonous words! She's bigger and curvy, so what? Won't every woman grow bigger and curvy when bearing our children? Won't thin silhouettes grow round when their bellies are full of our seed? Y/N's curves are gorgeous. She fills her dresses, my bed, in a way no other woman ever did. And I may have taken longer to understand how precious she is, but now that I'm aware of my treasures, I won't admit your mocking anymore!"

Ivar had an expression twisted into irony while Ubbe's lips curved in a smile. His little brother was finally growing into the man he always thought was there, hidden behind that hedonist little boy and so, he straightened himself, resting against the chair, letting Hvitserk take care of that situation for his delight.

"It seems little Hvitserk found something hidden into his wife's folds..." Ivar mocked once again.

To what Hvitserk answered with a proud expression no one could really doubt was real in his heart.

"I found love, Ivar. Something I don't think you'll ever find with this bitter tongue and stone heart you insist on keeping inside of your chest. Speak as much as you want, brother. I have a wife, she's gold and soon she'll be full with my child..."

"Even rounder than before!" Ivar insisted, bittered by Hvitserk's words.

"Even rounder than before, Ivar, you're right," Hvitserk completed, not affected by his brother's anger. "Even more beautiful than she already is. And I can't wait to see her like this, waiting for the dreams I have already coming into my life. Now tell me, little brother... Ubbe is to get married for the second time. As long as I know, Sigurd grew fond of that farmer girl he was seeing around. What about you? Bittered by your loneliness, Ivar, the Boneless?"

Sigurd, who was silent since the beginning of that conversation, scoffed a giggle behind his cup causing Ivar to grunt infuriated, hitting the table three times, but having no answer against his older brother who just got up under the smile stamped on Ubbe's lips.

"Going home, brother?" Ubbe asked.

"Y/N will fry pork ribs for me today with lemon and a bittersweet salad she said she's created. I can't lose it, brother," Hvitserk smiled.

"When he comes back, our father will be satisfied, Hvitserk. You bet he will," Ubbe said, smiling at his younger brother who smiled back.

Ragnar was spending some time at the settlement in England and it would surely be a good surprise for him to come back and see that his son had finally settled up with his fate alongside the woman he knew was good for Hvitserk since the beginning.

Hvitserk just nodded, smiling before leaving the table towards the square. This time, he decided to walk himself home since Vakker - his horse - was left home to take a time to rest. Hvitserk smiled, thinking about the beautiful mantle Y/N had done for the horse as a gift since she saw him complaining to Ubbe his horse was slowed by the cold in the last Winter. She had used the pieces of cloth she had from the clothes she made for him and sewed a beautiful cloak that would cover the horse during the cold nights keeping his legs from being affected by the cold and weakened by the harsh time.

His smile became bigger. How was it possible not to love someone who cared even for the littlest things in his life that were important for him?

"I miss this smile in your face," Hvitserk's thoughts were cut by a familiar sweetened voice he wasn't hearing in a while, and raising his eyes from the desert road he noticed what would be his harsher challenge of all: Margrethe was standing near a tree in the middle of his way, close to his house.

Sweet Margrethe...

His first love, the burning desire of his youth. His heart ached once again remembering the sadness of the day Ubbe chose to make her his wife and she accepted. The pain of not being able to question or ask for her since he was already betrothed to Y/N and how he hated that compromise that was now his most precious treasure.

She came closer. Her clothes weren't that bright now, denouncing the effects of divorcing his older brother were already coming down on her life. Yet, she had the same slow way to walk closer. Those eyes he once loved so bad were still sweet, yet full of sadness.

"You should be home, Margrethe," Hvitserk said, keeping his position.

Keeping himself from walking forward to cover the distance she didn't have walked towards him.

"It's late and people know already you're not my brother's wife anymore..."

"I chose wrong, didn't I?" she spoke with a doughy voice he knew so well.

Hvitserk's heart ached inside his chest.

It was easier when they were cruel towards you... It was easier when they weren't into his heart. But she... She was something more in his life and maybe the gods were testing him one last time. One more time...

Was he strong enough?

"I should've married you," she continued, lowering her head.

And Hvitserk felt the impulse to touch her chin and lift her face tickling his fist he clenched, holding back the tense arm. She wasn't his wife.

You were home waiting for him.

"I can see how you treat her... And I envy her. I chose wrong and now I can see my mistakes," she continued.

"I don't blame you, Margrethe. You made a choice with your heart, I believe. Things were what they had to be and I was fated anyway. Y/N and I were betrothed and nothing would've changed my father's decision. After all, she's a good woman and I'm happy now..." Hvitserk tried.

Seeing when she lifted her eyes full of tears to look at him.

"And I'm doomed," she meowed.

Crossing Hvitserk's heart with a thousand blades.

Ubbe never told them why he just gave up on the woman they loved when younger like that. He was a prince and could've taken Torvi as his second wife. Instead, he took distance from her, and within a month, he just said he wanted to divorce and leave Margrethe who had no say in his decision spoke with stone-cold words.

It was like all the love they've once shared for her had gone from Ubbe's heart at once and he didn't know why.

"I'm fated to loneliness and this despicable life... This is not fair!" she cried.

And for a second, Hvitserk thought he could hug her. He could take her as his second wife maybe. You...

But you had suffered so much...

"It was supposed to be me! Now Torvi stands by his side as if she didn't have sat beside a prince before, walking around as the future queen Ubbe will make of her as if I didn't have worked my whole life for the chance she stole from me!"

Margrethe's words cracked the glass of that scene for a moment and Hvitserk blinked twice, looking at her. He couldn't believe what he was hearing so, he let her speak, keeping the attention, giving her enough rope so she could feel safe to keep pouring her heart out.

"All because of her children... All men want her because she produces children like the soil produces trees! It's not my fault the gods kept me dry! I tried... I tried so hard! But Ubbe gave up on me like trash... And you're now with her as if you didn't hate the idea of getting married to that unknown foreigner and cursed this fate so many times between my arms. Come back, Hvitserk... Leave her and stay with me. I... I know my mistakes now. We can be happy again!" she said, walking towards him.

To what Hvitserk stepped back, covering the same distance she had walked but away from her.

"I have no reason to divorce Y/N like this..."

"Björn didn't have any reasons to divorce Torvi as he did. Yet, he did. You can do it too... Isn't Ubbe taking his brother's ex-wife to himself? You can stick your claim over me. I'll gladly accept you, Hvitserk! I know you're fated to great things too... We... We could be so happy together!"

Fated to great things...

Hvitserk blinked twice once again, seeing more and more cracks on Margrethe's mask. How many times did he saw her smiling beside Ubbe after saying he would one day become a great king and she would be queen by his side?

And before his brother had taken her for granted, how many times he had listened to her speaking about the great things all sons of his father were fated to? How lucky the women by their side would be?

"Or maybe you don't love me as you said before..." she said, looking at him with a glow of anger inside her eyes. "Did you lie to me too, Hvitserk? Is Sigurd like the three of you, Björn, Ubbe, and you?"

She would go for his little brother in case of his denial.

Hvitserk stood straight, chest stuffed by the deep breath he took, face frowned to speak with a harsh glare towards the woman he once thought it was the half of his soul.

"Fated to great things, Margrethe? All of us are. But if you want to know which one of us is the fool that will fall for your lies at this point in our lives, the answer is none. Cause not even Ivar with all the sadness of his lonely soul would fall for lovely words poisoned with greed like yours. You're not after love as I thought you were... You tried for our seeds to fill you with child and grant you the life of a queen you thought you would be when you accepted my brother's proposal," he spat.

And almost as if the gods were confirming his thoughts, Margrethe's lovely expression turned into anger and the mask fell once and for all, shattering the loving memories he had kept from her in a million of pieces: she was nothing but an opportunist and somehow, the gods had saved his older brother from that viper he was seeing changing form in front of his bare eyes as if she was Loki himself and his shapeshifting trickery.

"And is it such a bad thing for a woman who lived like me, prince of Kattegat?" she spoke harshly, no sign of the sweet woman Hvitserk had once fallen in love with. "I was a slave! You know nothing of slavery, son of Ragnar! You know nothing about how it is to be used as a dumpster by your masters, passed from hand to hand as if you were nothing but a doll to be used! Even after you got married to one of them, to keep being shared with his brothers like a toy for their entertainment, keeping these stupid games for your husband just to be thrown away by a better whore who can give him the little ones you weren't able to produce! Discharged by all the brothers who liked to fuck you just because they found themselves some cunts they now think are warmer than yours once were for them! What do you know about the life of a woman, Hvitserk? You can't judge me!"

The sound of the door of the cottage being opened froze Hvitserk on his place: Margrethe's altered voice called your attention and you came out through the door to watch that scene, instantly causing her to turn against you as if you were a moving target to her fury.

As soon as you stepped outside, she pointed her finger towards you, infuriated. Her face defaced in an expression of pure anger Hvitserk had never seen on the woman he used to see as the sweetest of his lovers.

"And for her... You're exchanging me and all these years we spent together for her! A woman you barely knew before you got married to! A creature you didn't even want or chose to get married to!"

"Stop it, Margrethe!" Hvitserk tried, standing between the two of you, trying to get Margrethe to shut up, fearing her words would destroy his whole progress as you walked closer to that sad scene.

"No! I won't shut up, you despicable prince! It's true! And if you lied to her then I'll save her from your lying fairytales! This is what your prince is, dear Y/N! A despicable man just like his brothers! Who fell tired of fucking me while you were home waiting for him! Who told you dozens of times he was drinking with his brother when he was indeed drinking from me in his brother's bed! Like his brother, he got tired of the pussy he fucked when younger and now he may be playing the good husband for you, but the truth is that I wasn't the only one he had in his bed before and after you were laid by his side with this ring on your finger that means nothing but a collar his father forced him to wear! They left me to the gods but I won't keep my mouth shut any longer! Cheater, that's what your prince is. A scoundrel, that's what Ubbe is! A liar, what Sigurd is, and his useless cripple brother after him! The great, great sons of Ragnar Loðbrók! Nothing but bastards, that's what they are!"

It was enough for him. Nervous, Hvitserk rose his hand to slap Margrethe's face and she shrunk waiting to experiment what she used to have long ago when she wasn't their slave.

But that slap never came.

In awe, she looked up to see your hand calmly holding Hvitserk's arm. Your touch soothing his angry frown as you stood in front of him, your back turned to her.

"No," you said and Hvitserk's heart sunk into his chest.

He couldn't exactly define if it was the shame of losing control like that or fear that you were defending Margrethe's words, but for a moment, he thought his whole efforts to walk that way towards your heart since the beginning were lost in her words.

Your fingers touched his face. A gentle caress he was getting used to receiving from your tender hands. And his heart ached more, imagining it was the last time he could be tasting that touch.

But your voice sounded calm, almost resigned.

"I know," you said, finally looking at her. "I know he got laid with you. And others. Many others. I know Hvitserk is a cheater and I know he gave around what was supposed to be mine only. I know of his treasons and all the many lies his mouth gave me."

Heavy words that enlarged Margrethe's eyes and shrunk Hvitserk's throat making it hard for him to swallow as you kept speaking.

"But I also know he's changed. And I know it not from his actions nor from the sweet words he started speaking into my ears, but from the stones you and the others started having into your hands whenever I'm around."

Hvitserk looked at you, surprised. Were they coming to you?

Why didn't you talk to him?

But you continued, eyes into Margrethe's full of a kind of security you'd never felt in front of her before.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, Margrethe, but the anger in your eyes just tell me you're not my husband's ways out anymore. The fury of the words you all have been driving to me just vouch for his honesty and prove to me he has been denying what before would put that air of superiority I don't see in your eyes any longer. I have no reason to hate you, Margrethe, because I know Hvitserk was the one who chose to hurt our compromise by keeping his side relationships, living a life that wasn't his anymore. But I won't take from him what he has been doing to fix his mistakes nor how he has grown into a better man in my eyes. So, like the others, keep your words to yourself and leave. I chose to leave the past where it belongs along with all of you in my husband's life: in the past. Please, do not come back to my house anymore. I thank you for the honesty about my husband's crimes but I also expect you shall respect my decisions about it and leave."

If there wasn't a reason for Hvitserk to fall in love with you before, he would've fallen helplessly with you now.

The sweet princess with tender hands and beautiful smiles was also a strong woman, decided, who had just shown him she could have kicked his butt before, and if he had a chance to change and show himself a better man it was entirely her decision to offer this chance for him.

"I hope he cheats on you again... And one day you'll be like I am now! Exchanged and discharged as he lays with a thinner bitch in your bed!" Margrethe cursed.

But Hvitserk watched as his wife spoke calmly, dressed in the mantle of sureness and certain of her own place in his life - an assurance his actions had given to her and he knew it.

"Instead of cursing the other's lives, you should care about your own. It's late, it will be night soon. Find yourself a shelter instead of trying to invade mine. In other words, Margrethe, try to find your own fate instead of trying to insert yourself into mine. And may the gods bless your life, woman, as much as they've been blessing mine."

"I hate you!" Margrethe yelled, angrily out of herself. "I hate you for taking him from me! I hate you, and Torvi! And that bitch of Sigurd's girl as well! All of you! I hate you! I hate you!!" she kept yelling, walking away into the forest like a witch with all her curses.

Hvitserk then felt the heavy weight in his shoulders again. His eyes landed on Y/N as she sighed turning herself to start walking back into their house.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, causing her to stop and look at him. "I'm sorry for all the things you've been hearing, all the stones they've thrown on you, all the time they've looked at you from upon your head as if they were better than you are. I granted them this right and I gave them reasons to do what they do and for this, I'm truly sorry," he said, with all his heart.

But instead of looking at him with disappointment or anger, Hvitserk saw a smile in Y/N's face. one of those smiles he loved so bad and thought he would never see in her face once again.

"I know you are sorry, husband. You have been changing it every day and I know your feelings are real. Don't worry... As I say, I can handle their anger and their stones don't hurt me. They make me happy. Cause if they're frustrated and angry it means you're keeping yourself faithful. And I have nothing to fear anymore."

Hvitserk came closer, caressing her face gently. And her chubby cheeks became red that way he learned he liked the most. She smiled, touching his face that way he thought he would never feel again and his lips turned into a smile as well.

"You have nothing to fear, wife," he mumbled, touching their foreheads. "Cause I love you. I may have failed to notice how possible it was before. But now I know what my heart wants and it's you."

His words preceded his lips touching hers gently, getting her into a warm kiss that lasted as long as their breath could take.

And then, Hvitserk giggled noticing he had managed to get her whole face red and she was now looking like a beautiful ripe cherry, fully shy in front of him.

"The... Ribs... They're ready and..." she babbled and Hvitserk giggled, embracing her tighter, happy to have his arms full of her.

"I can barely wait!" he smiled.

And as she smiled back, Hvitserk felt maybe the gods were satisfied with his actions, because she was there, with him. The smiley girl he married to was back and he couldn't be happier to be blessed like that.

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