#sigurd is handsome Hello

[amitieos]

There's a rather insistent tug at Elincia's dress, followed by the most pathetic little whine you've ever heard in your life. A scruffy head pops up just shy of her knee, chin resting against her leg with clumsy paws framing.

Honk whines again, tail wagging plaintively behind him as his nose twitches to the smell of good food just out of reach.

Her heart melts in an instant. She had found Sigurd charming but this little fellow? Truly the most handsome and charismatic gentleman she has met during her time in Fodlan.

"Hello sir, my name is Elincia. The pleasure truly is all mine," she coos, petting his head very gentle. His big, shining eyes plead at her for a yummy treat. She has neither the heart nor inclination to let him down. "Hungry? Let me see, I'll fill you up a nice plate, okay?"

She rises from her seat and peruses the table of it's wares, a certain dapper young gentleman following close behind. A few slices of fine steak, some sausage and turkey are piled on the plate. Elincia tops it off with a couple of roast potatoes, some gravy and a piece of lamb shoulder.

"Careful now, don't eat it too quickly or you'll get an upset tummy. Yes, that's right! Who's a good boy? Who's the best boy in the whole wide world? You are!"

[nagaficat]

There were still so many blank spaces in his mind, voids of simply black, perhaps a whisper of a voice or the flash of a disembodied smile. He knew if he kept working at it, he could recover everything he lost bit by bit, but the long stretch of unknown that swirled in his mind beleaguered him.

But not her.

He spotted her from a distance once, when he was coming out of the training hall, and the breeze ruffled his hair and he knew that she was everything to him, was instantly transported to a glen in a forest long ago, cool light dappling their entwined fingers as they murmured promises to each other; instantly transported back to the flames and the confusion and the grief that he had felt before the darkness had taken him, or perhaps the darkness had clouded him long before that.

Had he lost her, let her down, or had she left him...?

He had attempted to find answers where he could, but for every tale there was about his deeds and "his" war, there was very little about the intricacies of the relationships he shared with everyone in his army. They were friends, loved ones, first and foremost, but...

Another blank space.

Seeking counsel from the archbishop had been little help, for she had given him a serene smile and merely recommended that he reach out to her, but for the first time in his life he found himself hesitating at such direct action. He recalled the look on her face when she had run from him, but his mind tangled the memories – had she run, or been dragged? Were they in her Spirit Forest still...? No it was elsewhere...

In, out. He fiddled with the scroll in his hands, forcing his breathing to calm.

In, out.

Finally, Sigurd raised his eyes to the door of the room where Deirdre resided, and reached his hand to tuck the scroll into the jamb for her to find. He would give her the option, he had decided, to come to him or deny him entirely.

His ears caught the click of the door and he froze only for a moment, standing as a deer in hunters' sights as the feel of her so close washed over him like sunshine. His hand flew out to grip her elbow, gently, to prevent her collision into him, and as her eyes lifted to meet his he felt his deliberately calmed breaths stolen from his body.

After a moment, he smiled, softly, and said the only thing that made sense;

"Hello, my Deir."

It is hard each day waking and knowing that her Sigurd is not with her. The return of her memories has been a blessing, of course. She has Seliph and Edain and knows now, fully, how much each of them means to her. Lady Ethlyn, Ayra's twins, Lord Azelle, so many people have returned to her life.

But it is also a curse. Each day, each moment without her beloved only causes her to long for him more. She longs to be held by him and cherished by him. To tell him she loves him and she remembers him. To explain why she broke his heart before his death.

Lately it is even harder. The pair of students play acting as Sigurd and Arvis. The man, the impostor, in the pit using his name for ill. Both times she was quick to believe that he had finally found his way back to her. But the gods had not yet been so kind. She is beginning to wonder if they ever will be. She was forbidden from loving him but she ignored that warning. Perhaps she is to spend the entirety of this second life waiting and longing for him.

Deirdre thinks about him as she tends to the vases of flowers in her dormitory here at the monastery. Blue forget-me-nots. She wore them in her hair when she was married the first time and they help keep his presence in her life. The wilted flowers are removed and she realizes she could use another vase with fresh blooms. Her garden sheers and a glass vase are collected and she begins to open the door to head toward the greenhouse.

When the door opens, she is greeted with the face of the very man occupying her thoughts. This time, he looks just as she remembers. Shining blue eyes, handsome but boyish smile. He reaches for her elbow to steady her but it is too late. She drops the sheers and vase and it shatters on the floor. It does not matter. All she can think is her desperate need to feel his arms around her. Deirdre throws herself at him. She is crying and laughing both as she clings tightly to him.

"Lord Sigurd, I am your wife! That is what you were trying to tell me. I remember now: I am your wife!"

@bldrsdraumar

[cyber-dump-171]

Left for Carnage: The lore list

In case you want to appear on the tag list, you can enter your username here. To read the chapters, check out the Masterlist. 

Hello everyone! I wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented on these chapters. Please know that I read every one of your comments and they absolutely make my day! I wanted to apologize for some of the tagging issues, I don’t know why Tumblr doesn’t let me tag certain people which bothers me a lot, I’m trying to figure out what causes this.

This list keeps track of original characters and lore stuff, so, every time there is a new concept introduced this list will be updated. There are also descriptions for each of these terms and a small bio for characters.

All of the information is under the cut.

Wisdom is the greatest weapon.

A family of seven members, they’re known for their contributions to science and magic. Though their last name has been tarnished by the actions of various external family members, they’re still respected and held highly by society. However, behind closed doors, there is a much darker story than the public knows of.

Members:

Theodore (L/N)

Father and patriarch of the family, Theodore is a renowned archeologist responsible for discovering the Jade oculus crystal and the amethyst cave located underneath the Land of Pyroxene. He’s known as a man of few words and a stare as cold as ice. For unknown reasons, he seems to dislike his children, yet he adored his late wife, Anette. He’s currently remarried to Dorothea, a noblewoman from the Isle of Lamentation.

Annette (L/N) (†)

The birth mother of all five children, she passed away seven years before the current events of the story. She was a sweet and beautiful woman who dedicated most of her life to painting and studying herbs. Her children, paintings, and garden were her pride and joy.

Astrid (L/N)

The first daughter of the family, Astrid works as an alchemist for the Magic Research Institute. Kind yet short-tempered, she is responsible for taking care of her younger siblings and acts as a second mother to them. She’s engaged to Judy Asker, a fashion designer from the Land of Pyroxene.

Svein (L/N)

The second child of the family, he works as an elementary school teacher in Sleepy Hollow, he has since been transferred to another school in the Land of Pyroxene. Cold and aloof, he’s the target of many bachelorettes not only for his status but for his handsome looks, however, he’s rejected every single proposal. Though, it’s rumored by some of the townspeople that he’s actually seeing someone.

Roger (L/N)

The third child of the family, he keeps the facade of an orderly young man, with slick back hair and always wears a clean suit, however, he’s short-tempered and tends to gossip behind people’s backs. He followed in his late mother's footsteps and researched herbalism.

Sigurd (L/N)

The fourth child and face of the family, Sigurd is the picture-perfect depiction of a fairytale prince. Due to the age difference between his older siblings, he became incredibly close with the youngest one. His extroverted and kind personality makes him easily approachable. He’s currently missing.

É̷̛͕̘́͂v̸̹̭̙͕̓̾͋͠e̷̱̱̜͋r̶̩̒̆͂ỳ̷̰̯̱o̵͙̬͊̇͑n̵̛̜̗̣̎͐͠ȩ̴̯̭̟̋͝'̶̧̦̅̑ṣ̸̤̯̯̅̀͋̿ ̵͕͚̏g̶͖̀͛̿o̶̫̊͗̅͜t̷̰̙̦̀ ̶̡̐̂t̴̛̻̀͛h̸̳̬͙͗̎̽̍ḙ̴̠̦̦͂̽͆͝i̸̹͇̟͐ͅr̶͇̫͐ ̷̛̰̂̎̚ǫ̴͍̟́w̶̤̼͌̈ǹ̵͚̄̚ͅ ̸͙͙̱͂̀͊̾š̴͒̔̚ͅě̶̲̝̊̃̊c̸̛̻͖͆r̴͇̠͈̅̋ế̸̛̙̲͈̱̕ṱ̸̨̦͒̃̄͘s̵̟̘̐

(Y/N) (L/N)

The last child of the family and protagonist of the story. Quiet and awkward by nature, they don’t show their true personality until they become friends with someone. They tend to hide in their bedroom and bury themselves in so much work to avoid interacting with others that aren’t family, friends, or members of the guild. 

Dorothea

The new stepmother of the five children, Dorothea used to be a polite and well-mannered noblewoman. However, slips of her personality tend to show when she interacts with children or servants, as she shows her rude and spiteful side. Whenever she gets angry, her shrill voice can cause a headache.

External members:

Aunt Frøydis (†)

The older sister of Annette (L/N). She loved her niece and nephews dearly, even leaving her wealth to Anette’s children and an entire estate where Svein and Roger currently reside. She passed away from cardiac arrest before Sigurd was born.

Judy Asker: the fianceé of Astrid (L/N). He is a recognized fashion designer in Pyroxene, his most famous designs were those that appeared in the play "The Glass Heart", known for being the first play where Vil Schoenheit had his first role as a protagonist and not as an antagonist.

Avery Meiji: A young woman with white hair who was left stranded inside the Tulgey Woods. She used to have a lover named Telesphore Cooper who belonged to a cult, he tricked her into taking the initiation test in which she was almost killed by a monster who pretended to be someone named “Cristina”.

Theodore Bulman (†): Also known as “Teddy”, was a young man who belonged to a delinquent gang in which Deuce used to participate as a middle schooler. He was considered to be the most “normal” person who hung out in the group.

Fleurette: A young woman with red-haired who was a temporary companion of (Y/N) during an expedition that lasted a whole year.

Sleepy Hollow: A town located somewhere on the outskirts of the Shaftlands. It’s mainly known for the legend of Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman, the International Museum of Medicine, and for its strange fixation on the subject of death. Only two noble families live in the area, the (L/N) and the Caldwells.

Heralds of the Empire: One of the three biggest monster hunting guilds in Twisted Wonderland. They focus more on research and safety prevention. The guild’s current leader is Yuuken Enma, the mysterious non-magical human.

Magic Research Institute: As the name indicates, it is a branch from the Heralds of the Empire guild that is in charge of researching magic and everything related to it.

Institute of Beast Study: A branch of the Heralds of the Empire guild. As its name implies, it’s a place in charge of studying different types of species and the behaviors of beasts. They are also responsible for issuing permits to be able to keep beasts as pets.

Divine beasts: Taller than buildings and stronger than normal ones, these beasts were rumored to have once controlled the lands of the ancient world. They were defeated by an ancient group of monster hunters and lay to rest under the foundation of Twisted Wonderland.

Guddommelig ulykke (Norweigan): Divine misfortune.

Guddommelig Raseri (Norweigan): Divine Fury.

Assimilation beast: A monster that has similar behaviors to humans. They can talk, have desires and feelings, however, they’re more rebellious in nature because they are guided by their impulses. Depending on their power, they can turn into humans, however, they usually stay as companions for adventures. It’s illegal to own one without having a permit given by the Institute of Beast Study.

The Followers of Gwendolen: N̷̨̺̫͗̉̑̂͝ǫ̷̡̦̯̲̽͜t̶̼̫̽̃ ̸͇̰̼̙̊y̵͓̰̖͎͉̫̔̀͊ĕ̵̺͍͇͗͛̐͜ṯ̷̫̊̆,̸̥̖̌̃͗́̀̆ ̶͈̈́̇͊í̸̢̩̥̹̅̅̀͝t̶͚̓̕'̴͓͋͒͒͝s̵̟͚͓͒̓̆̚ ̷͕͙̈t̷̢̢̻͉͖̀͑͂̾̔̿͜o̷̙̤̓ǫ̵̭̳̱̖̇͜ ̶͔͒ë̸̝́̐̍̈́ā̸̡̧̖͈̘́̈͋͝r̶̛̛̻͕̈́̒͋̑l̸͉̮̪̪̳̈́̏y̸̡͍̿ͅ ̸̛̣͍̻̦͋͜t̶͕̰͉͙͚̗͆̒̂͝ơ̶̜ ̶̹͍͉̟̳͙̍̒̂́́t̸̖̭̲͝ę̴̥̬̰͎͗l̵̪̆͘l̷̢̪̜͉͔͋

[jadelynlace]

Hey just went on a 4.5 hr binge reading your amazing work!! I was just wondering if you could do somthing with ivar reacting to the reader saying she is pregnant and his reaction to when she's in labour? In ink drinker?? You're amazing and I love your work!

Hello! That’s so sweet of you, thank you. Welcome to the crazy world!

And I know I said my requests are closed but Ivar & kids? The kill shot. It’s long & funny & emotional and I hope you all enjoy. I cried. 

☞ catch up here

You were late. You were late and in your haste of life, you only noticed two weeks past where you should have.

“I’m late” You texted Ivar.

“For work?” Is what he replies.

You nearly threw your phone across the threshold, the cry of delirious laughter on your lips at Ivar’s far too perfectly timed response. It had been madness with him back at work; catching up on two years' worth of delays, overbooking himself, and coming home in the middle of the night. Sleep was never easy for him, he had turned into a man who needed an orgasm to so simply think about closing his eyes. And the nights of fumblings between the sheets, soft moans and heavy breathing, Ivar telling you how he loves you, only helped him.

And you knew his pullout game sucked.

The magenta double lines that grace you back from the porcelain sink hitch your breath. After a step closer, two glances back, they remain there, almost smiling up at you. You can’t dwell on those marks, already telling yourself the tale that it was incorrect, but the other two tests, of the other two manufacturers, yielded the same promise. An ocean of chill runs down your spine, tugging against your tailbone and snapping into you like a pluck of a guitar string, propelling the sensation through to your toes. Finding your hand across your abdomen was a motion you didn’t even realize you had started, but the path was so plain. If your heart could leap from your chest and hug you back, it would. 

When you hear the creak of the garage door it’s not nearly as late as you had thought Ivar would be home. The medley of vegetables in one pot, the boiling pasta in the other, and before you can even speak, Ivar wraps himself against your back.

“Hey, handsome,” You hum, melting against him and he only squeezes tightly. 

“Hey, baby,” His lips rasp into your hair. “Missed you today,” Ivar adds as his nose trails the curve of your skull. “Are you making pasta primavera?”

“Yes,” You sigh and you’re certain you could fall asleep like this. “I got you something,” You then say, still swaying slightly with Ivar. 

“Yeah?” He rasps, finally pulling away from you for you to turn. His hair is already down, glasses where they belong for once, and he smiles when you catch his gaze. You’re quick to scurry away, yelling something about turning off the stove, and then you’re back, a small package in your hands. 

“It’s the most expensive gift I’ve gotten you,” You tease as the box shrinks when it’s in Ivar’s grasp.

“I told you that I don’t want another mustang, baby,” Ivar replies, pulling the ribbon off. “I like my Jeep.”

“It’s not….it’s not a mustang,” You snort.

“Oh, thank god,” Ivar says, shivering slightly as the thought leaves him. 

“You’ll like it, I promise,” You nudge and he finally lifts up the lid. You thought you could hear his breathing hitch, fuzziness in his eyes already starting as the positive pregnancy tests stare back at him. 

“No you’re not,” Ivar whimpers, “Are you fucking with me?” And his voice is meek, drowned out with emotion and you only tear up too. “No, you’re not,”

“We’re gonna have a baby, Ivar,” Are the first words out of your mouth. “You’re gonna be a dad,” You say, watching how his eyes move to your face, towards the test, shocked, mouth agape and he only whimpers. When he sets the box on the counter you’re there to wrap to fill his grasp. Falling into his arms and you can hear the slight sniffle from above you. It pulls one from you too, finally grasping the mental concept that Ivar really has dreamt about this moment his whole life. You wiggle slightly, pulling back and Ivar’s hands are still on your hips. With red eyes, he moves one paw to wipe the tear that’s threatening to escape. 

“I love you,” Ivar whispers and it makes you laugh when you repeat it back, hands on his cheeks as you bring your mouth to his. The kiss isn’t hurried, Ivar’s lips move as though he’s hardly focusing on the task and you can hear another sniffle as you pull back. Forehead resting along his and his eyes are closed. 

“I found out this morning,” You whisper to him.

“I’m waiting to wake up from the dream,” Ivar replies, and his eyes are still shut as he speaks.

“Your pullout game sucks, Ivar,” You say and that makes him laugh, thick from his stomach, and his eyes finally open as he pulls you to rest against him.

“This isn’t news to me, Y/N,” Ivar says. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby,” He adds and when he does a new wave of tears starts in his eyes.

“Your mother is going to castrate you,” You say into the cotton of his shirt and he laughs again. “You and me Ivar,”

“Against the world,” He replies. “And as parents.”

*

His phone rings from next to him, your name on Ivar’s screen, and halfway through his sentence, he stops to smile. Excusing himself for a moment, he answers:

“Hey baby, I’m just finishing up with a client, I’ll call you right back,” And the line goes dead. You blink to yourself several times when you hear silence in your ear and as you look to the towel at your feet, you almost feel as though you’re going to cry.

After ten minutes you stop caring if he’s shooting the breeze with the person, and you’re dialing for him again as you lean against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, baby,” Ivar answers and it pulls the anger, anxiety from you and you suck in a deep breath. “Baby?”

“My water broke,” You simply say.

“When?” Ivar asks quickly and he’s standing, leaning his shoulder to hold his phone as he throws the closest thing he can reach in Sigurd’s direction. White eraser bouncing in front of him as he moves his gaze from his magazine to Ivar. “I’ll be right there,” He says. “Her water broke,” He calls to Sigurd and the man only offers a thumbs up.

“Ivar—fuck—Ivar listen to me, do not drive like a mad man,” You grit into your phone. “I need you here for this, alright?” Your words fall as he climbs into the Jeep.

“I won’t,” Ivar replies softly. “I promise. I’ll see you in a minute, alright?”

“Alright,” You say back.

“How far apart are they?” Ivar asks and you only smile. 

“Still far enough,”

“We’re going to get to meet her,” Ivar whispers and it makes your smile bigger.

His next call is to Floki, the phone ringing through Bluetooth and there’s a hum when he answers.

“Yeeeeeeees, Ivar?” Floki sings.

“Y/N’s water broke, I’m on my way home,” Ivar replies, and the laugh he’s known his whole life rings through the man’s mouth.

“Take a deep breath for me,” Floki says.

“I’ve taken several since I got into my car,” Ivar replies. “It’s the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames.” And they both laugh.

“I’ll head to the shop now, keep me in the loop. Oh—and Ivar, you have two hands. If she has to break one as she delivers your baby girl, so be it.” And the line goes dead. Ivar groans, his heart hammering behind his seatbelt and he doesn’t even bother to turn the car off when he parks in the driveway.

You’re in the same spot, hand crossing the bump and your eyes are stuck on the clock when you hear the door open. Another press of pain mangles its way through you, as if your guts are trying to come through your navel. Ivar calls your name and you turn, a soft smile on your face.

“Just put everything in the car,” You say and Ivar nods, completely ignoring your direction and coming towards you.

“I know you’re a medic—I know how many babies you’ve delivered with Hvitserk there, but this is different,” Ivar hums as he tips your chin, sealing the words to your mouth as he kisses you. “This is our baby,”

“I’m scared,” You whisper and Ivar moves his arms around to your back.

“I am too,” He admits. “Let’s get to the hospital,”

Despite how the nurse offers the wheelchair, you shake your head; walking has been the only aid to your contractions and she nods. Ivar’s hand is in yours as you’re laying along with the linens, thumb brushing your knuckles and he’s on his phone.

“Did you call your mom?” You ask.

“No,” He answers, eyes not moving to yours. “Only Floki so he can get to the shop. You need to focus on you right now,” He says, finally lifting his head to look at you. Brows towards the ceiling and the small smirk only makes you pout.

“You should try to get some sleep—”

“Baby,” Ivar says and you nod. Ivar moves only minutes later, sketchbook taking up his lap as his hand stays with yours. Your phone buzzes with a Snapchat from Hvitserk, quick zooming in of Engine 1 as one of the firefighters walk by it. You take the liberty to pan the room, from your gown-covered self, Ivar to your left and back to the windows on the other side. Less than ten seconds pass before his contact picture graces your screen.

“That’s how you tell me?” Hvitserk all but shrieks and even Ivar can hear it through the phone. “How long have you been there?”

“A few hours,” You answer back.

“Guys! Our Lieutenant’s in labor!” Hvitserk calls to the guys. “Put me on speaker—Ivar?”

“What, brother?” Ivar groans back.

“When we work labor calls, I always tell the mother that I have two hands—”

“And if she needs to break one so be it,” Ivar finishes for him, and his brother whines. “Floki said the same thing.”

“Fucking Floki,” Hvitserk mumbles. “We’ll be thinking about you two, and send us pictures.”

“You don’t want a video?” You tease.

“Nope—I know you well, but I don’t need to know you that well!” Hvitserk laughs.

“Oh, come on, it can be practice for you and Thora,” and you can see the man blush without even being in front of him. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“You’ve got this,” Hvitserk says and the line goes dead.

By the fourth time you find your legs in the stirrups, you’re about ready to take one out to grant the nurse’s face. The needle for the epidural was big, it was big enough that Ivar didn’t even look, that you as a regular needle handler, even felt shy from. When you feel the contraction roll through only a few seconds after the last one, you nudge Ivar. His head on your shoulder flies up and your look answers his question before he even has to ask it.

“Dad, are you cutting the cord?” The nurse asks and Ivar looks back at you as if he needs your permission before he can think of an answer.

“Yes,” Ivar says back and he’s by your side, hand tracing your bent knee, sliding your thigh and it helps to calm you. Before your first push, you’re already crying, Ivar’s there to pull the hair from your face as it sticks to where you’ve started to sweat. As you curse him, his last name, his size and weak pull-out game and Ivar only agrees with each word as they come through your lips. Before you’ve even crowned you’ve decided that you don’t want to do this anymore.

“I hate you right now,” You hiss, and Ivar nods.

Twelve hours of sitting, standing, walking, swaying, trying almost everything in the manual to help progress her just a bit further than the last hour. Ivar adorned in scrubs, trying to contain his excitement, your partner in crime trying to experience it with you as well as he could, attempting to leech some of the pain in the meantime. 

One week shy of her due date, Ivar’s there to see his daughter born. Through tears and strings of curse words, sweat-slick clothes, she is finally here.  Watering eyes flicking to yours as her cry fills the room. Your whine is there next and she’s against your chest the minute she’s able. IV poked hand coming to cup her diapered rear, head against the pillow and you’re crying. You’re crying as Ivar’s lips brush your hairline, as he’s crying, as the head nurse films the moment per your request. Ivar studies the newborn in utter disbelief, eyes switching from its cotton-covered head to your face, overstuffed with pure adoration. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Ivar whispers in your ear, his hand covering yours over the child you two created together.

“Look at her, Ivar,” You whisper and he is, he hasn’t stopped yet, the tuft of dark hair on her head that matches his own as her small hands balled into fists. His daughter laying against your chest and he has to wipe his eyes. There’s an upset from her for a brief moment, wiggle and a cry, and instinctively Ivar’s lips shush her, his voice lulling through her ears and she quiets. “That’s your dad,” You say to her.

Ivar’s moment for the skin on skin finally came and he’s next to you. Seated, shirt off, and the nurse hands him the bundle. Pink cotton on an inked chest as Ivar’s hand pats her bottom, nearly swarming the infant as a whole. You can’t hear him, but you see his lips moving, eyes peeking down at the bundle that’s looking up at him. A full conversation on his side and you’re tearing up again, snapping a picture for Hvitserk, your parents, and his, for Floki and Ivar laughs as he watches her yawn.

“Oh, am I boring you, miss?” Ivar coos and you smile. “I know you’ve had such a big day,” He says. “You have no idea how loved you already are.”

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[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On IX (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ I finished this yesterday but I needed some time to edit it calmly, so I waited until today! I have to say, do you know when you plan an entire fanfic around a scene? Like you imagine a scene but need context, so you end up writing an entire series? This is what happened to me with the last scene of this chapter. I didn’t even know how to write it, and it ended up being much worse than I thought it would be. Anyway, there’s just one chapter left (will probably be ready for next week, bc I finished the internship and I have a bit more time now!) For now, enjoy this one🥰 

Btw! I made a spotify playlist with songs that give me ‘Move On’ vibes, feel free to listen to it and if you have a song that reminds you of it tell me and I will add it!💕

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, this is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written, drama bc I’m a dramatic person, a bit of fluff, mentions of anxiety, broken hearts... Angst. Also, Ivar may be a bit out of character (?) sorry :(

Words: 4074

Move On Masterlist

Move On Playlist

gif belongs to @beastologist​

The worst part of going out to the bar with your friends was that they were always surrounded by boys. You weren't that much into one night stands, so you tended to stay next to the bar or go dance by yourself and maybe make new friends as your friends flirted. That night wasn't different. You had barely drank two beers when one of your friends started glancing behind you and biting her lip. 

"Okay, I'm seeing the hottest guys ever right there" she muttered as soon as the conversation died. You were thankful that she didn't interrupt you, at least "Oh my god, they look like nordic Gods"

You raised an eyebrow with curiosity, but didn't turn around. Your other friends quickly checked them out and the giggles and whispers started. You wished you could join them, and gossip about hot guys in bars, but you just couldn't, and every time you tried it ended up being a disaster. 

"They're looking" one of them smirked "I knew it, this dress always works" 

You chuckled, shaking your head but low-key proud as you had been the one choosing her outfit and makeup. They were stunning, and you could understand that every guy in that bar had checked them out at least once, it made you proud to have pretty friends. So you kind of expected it when they started muttering that the guys were approaching. 

They hadn't lied, those boys were truly handsome, and even you widened your eyes and your mouth parted. You couldn't help but smile kindly at them when they greeted all of you. 

"I'm Ubbe" one of them, that had the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen "These are my brothers, Hvitserk and Sigurd" he pointed at the other two, both blonde. One of them, the first one to caught your eye, had dirty blonde hair and green eyes, while the other one had blue eyes but more pale than his brother. You didn't get to stare at them as much as you would have liked to, as you friends introduced themselves. 

"And she's Y/N" one of them pointed at you, and when the three pairs of eyes set on you, you had to clear your throat and look away quickly. 

"It's truly a pleasure to meet all of you" the green-eyed one, with a flirtatious tone, bowed his head slowly with a smirk on his lips "We realized you ran out of drinks" he raised an eyebrow "And we can't allow that, now can we?" 

He was good, one of your friends giggled and his smirk widened. 

"Yeah, we'd like to invite you to some drinks" Ubbe winked at other one of your friends, who nodded slowly.

"Okay, so next round is on you" she shot him a flirtatious smile and before you could react, they were already coupled up and flirting shamelessly. You finished your drink and looked around, a bit bored. 

"Is your friend not going to join us?"

You raised your head. So there were four of them. Well, maybe you would have someone to drink shots with. 

"Ivar is not much into meeting new people" Hvitserk chuckled "He doesn't like people" 

"He's cute" your friend hit your shoulder "Y/N, go talk to him" 

You knew they meant well, and they wanted you to have fun the same way they were having fun, so you rolled your eyes playfully and turned around to see him. 

You expected to see a handsome guy, if he was half as hot as the ones now sitting on your table, he'd be very hot. But you stopped breathing and nearly choked with your drink when you saw him. 

He was probably the most beautiful person you had ever seen. He was beautiful. He looked bored, his finger scrolled down his phone and sometimes his eyes wandered around the room with a scowl on his face. But if he looked like that scowling, you couldn't imagine how he'd look with a smile. 

You realized you had been staring, and cleared your throat as you turned back to your friends. The three brothers were staring at you, and Ubbe and Hvitserk smirked at each other. 

"Um... I wouldn't want to bother him" you shrugged, trying to gain some composure. 

"You wouldn't" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow "Ivar doesn't like people but, he might like a cute girl talking to him" 

"Don't listen to him" the other blonde one, Sigurd, rolled his eyes "He's an asshole, don't even bother" 

"Sigurd" Ubbe sighed, but decided to ignore them and went back to talking to your friend.

Hvitserk glared at his brother and shook his head. 

"I mean, you don't have to flirt with him or anything, I just thought the both of you would like some company" he smiled kindly at you "And I think you'd get along" 

You nodded slowly and he looked back to your friend, who winked at you with a smirk. When you finished your drink, you looked at him again. This time he caught you, and you turned around quickly with widened eyes and your heart racing. After the round of shots Ubbe bought, you stood up. 

Ivar was confused. He had seen you entering the bar with your friends, laughing at something someone said at the door. Then you ordered your drink with a smile and narrowed your eyes while looking for an empty table. When you finally found one, you quickly took your friends there. Now he couldn't see your face, but he kept glancing at you sometimes. He went out with his brothers frequently, and yes, he  looked at girls like they did, but when they'd stand up to go and actually talk to the girls, Ivar would always stay behind. He truly didn't need the pity stares or the smiles full of compassion, he also didn't want to see how they rejected him with a polite smile after they saw his crutches. No one wanted to hook up with the guy with crutches, but they were too nice and too polite to say it in front of him and his brothers. 

You looked beautiful, he noticed you as soon as you entered, and you had a different vibe, but he didn't even dare to think about you too much, not even when his brothers started whispering about that group of cute girls. 

"I also like that one" Hvitserk had said, pointing at you discreetly "But Ivar saw her first, and he had heart eyes while looking at her, so..." He shrugged. 

Ivar was startled by that, and turned to glare at his brother.

"I noticed too" Ubbe chuckled "Come on, let's talk to them, she looks nice" 

Ivar shrugged and looked down, ignoring them. 

"He won't do it" Sigurd raised an eyebrow "And he'd panic if she talks to him"

He had a point, Ivar did panic when he saw you approaching him. At first he thought you were going to the bar, then you looked at him and he gulped. He didn't have any more beer to calm him down, and he felt his heart racing. 

"Hi" you smiled at him, a bit flustered "Can I?" 

You pointed to the chair in front of him, the one Hvitserk had occupied before. Ivar stared at the chair for a couple of seconds before nodding slowly. 

You sat down, a bit taken aback by his silence. 

"I'm Y/N" 

He cleared his throat and finally found the courage to look at your eyes. 

"Ivar" 

"I... They went to flirt with my friends and I thought I'd come here with you because it's..." you wrinkled your nose and he nearly smiled "A bit awkward" 

Ivar nodded slowly. 

"That's okay" 

That's okay? What the fuck?, he thought. 

"Anyway, um... Do you want a beer?" 

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" he raised an eyebrow and his voice startled you. It had a musical tone, not too deep but not that high either. It was oddly attractive. 

"Well, I was going to invite you, but if that's affecting your masculinity, I will let you pay" you chuckled. 

Ivar looked amused. 

"It's because that always works for my brothers" he shrugged. 

Your heart raced when you realized what he meant. You still couldn't believe that a guy like that would even look at you, but you weren't going to complain. 

"Okay then, maybe I could pay next time"

You nearly regretted that, you had talked to him for barely two minutes and you were already talking about a second date. 

He probably thinks I'm desperate...

"Maybe" 

From up close, you could appreciate just how blue his eyes were. They reminded you of Ubbe's eyes, but Ivar's were less warm, deep, intense and overwhelming as the ocean, framed by dark eyelashes that completed a mysterious stare that made you shiver. His lips were full and pouty, and you nearly widened your eyes when he licked his bottom lip nervously. You realized you had been staring and it was probably not very nice to feel observed in that way. 

"Um... So they're your brothers?" you glanced to the other table, where your friends and their new companions laughed loudly. 

"Yes, I'm the youngest" he nodded "We have another brother but he's older, he has a family and those things" 

Their parents must be proud of what they made, you thought. If everyone in that family had those looks, you were probably meeting the people with the best genes in the world. 

"That's nice" you smiled "They seem fun"

Ivar grimaced. 

"They're fun for the first ten minutes, then they're annoying as fuck" he rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh. Ivar had never made a girl laugh, and he widened his eyes, surprised by the warm feeling that spread in his chest. 

Suddenly, your eyes found the crutches. Ivar tensed up and watched you as you stared at them confused. 

"What happened?" You looked at his face again, and immediately felt terrible. What if he didn't want to talk about it? Why did you have to ask? 

"It's a disease" suddenly, his tone was a bit more dry "I was born with it, I need braces and crutches to walk" 

You nodded slowly. 

"Sorry for asking" you bit your lip. 

"It's fine" he shrugged "As long as it doesn't bother you"

You narrowed your eyes softly. 

"Why would it bother me?" you smiled "I still wanna get that drink"

Ivar was equally surprised and relieved when you stood up to approach the bar, turning to wink at him with a smile. 

________________________________

Your face was covered on makeup and dried tears. You felt your lips dry and your eyes hurt from crying. It was cold, even if Ivar's warm body was pressed against yours. He was asleep, the medicines always left him exhausted, and he would sleep soundly for hours. You wanted to turn around and hug him so bad... To hide your face into his neck and breathe, relax next to his body like you did for years. It was your safe place, but now it didn't feel right. 

You turned your head to look at him. Ivar looked so calm and peaceful that your fingers ached to touch him, but at the same time it was even more painful than before. You had been weak, and sleeping with him would only hurt you both, because maybe the both of you thought things were just like before, but they weren't. 

You couldn't forget the pain, the disappointment and the rejection. Ivar had chosen someone else over you and that changed everything, and you were tired of being the weak girl that cried and mourned constantly because of him. 

It was still dark outside, but you could feel the dawn was near, as there was that chill in the air that precedes sunrise. But you couldn't sleep, you laid there the entire night, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember how his touch felt, how warm his lips were, because you were making a decision. 

You closed your eyes. They burnt and yearned for some sleep, but you wouldn't let yourself sleep next to him, not anymore. 

You could wait until he woke up, or leave before without a warning. Either way would end up in disaster, because you knew Ivar wouldn't let you go without an explanation, and you couldn't look at him in the eye and leave him, you weren't strong enough. 

You opened your eyes again, and glanced at him, leaning in to kiss his forehead softly. Ivar sighed deeply in his sleep, and snuggled closer to you. The pain seemed to have stopped, but you thought you'd leave some painkillers next to his bed before leaving. 

Years later, you still felt that tickling in your belly whenever you looked at him, just like the first time. Who would have told you that the strange at the bar, who sat alone and glaring at everyone, would become the center of your world? You remembered those first days, the shy kisses and nervous touches, how he hesitated whenever he leant to kiss you. His brothers' teasing, his small smiles and how he blushed when you said how good he looked. How he looked at you, how time would stop when the two of you were together. The weight of those nearly five years overcame you, and you let the tears fall once again. You loved him so much it physically hurt, and now you were sure he had loved you too, at least at some point, but now things were over. He made a choice, and he ruined it. Maybe you were also to blame, thinking that what you had with Ivar was strong enough to last forever, and that no one could ever break that. Maybe you should have taken care of him, made him feel special, like she did. 

Moving slowly, careful not to wake him up, you got out of the bed, shivering when you left the warm covers and walked around the room, picking your underwear and your dress and getting dressed as quickly as you could. Then you opened the door slowly and left the room, looking for your shoes and purse, which you left in the living room. The only time you went back to Ivar's room was to leave the pills on the nightstand next to a glass of water and caress his hair softly for the last time. Then, you left again, closing the door softly and swallowing your tears and the lump on your throat. 

You looked around the kitchen and living room. It felt so cold and empty now, and the silence was louder than Ivar and Hvitserk's laugh. You had lost the count of how many hours you spent in that living room, laughing with the brothers, whom you considered your family, eating, watching tv, cuddling with Ivar, having sex and then apologizing to Hvitserk for having sex on the couch, and then baking his favorite cookies to make him forgive you. Their presence lightened up the room, and standing there without any of them made you realize just how hard was going to be living without them. 

But you couldn't just leave without a word. It wouldn't be fair. You intended to call Hvitserk, but Ivar... Maybe it would be the last time you saw Ivar. The mere thought was enough to make you sob again, covering your mouth. 

You grabbed a small notebook and a pen from the small wooden table of the living room. It was a notebook you bought for them, to make them write down the phone numbers and the important things, even if they only used it to draw stupid things when they were bored. 

You wrote slowly, carefully, drying your tears when they didn't let you see. When you finished, you felt even more heartbroken, but also a bit more relieved. Maybe you couldn't look at him and say it, but it was easier to write it, and that's what you had done. 

You didn't bother to put the heels on and grabbed the shoes and the purse before leaving the flat, not daring to look back. 

_________________________________________

The taxi stopped next to your door. You managed to mutter a weak 'thank you' before stepping out of the car. The driver looked worried, but he just nodded and said goodbye. As you approached the door, you noticed a figure sitting next to it, your heart skipped a beat and you smiled widely when you recognized Hvitserk. He was still dressed on his suit, and his lips curved softly when he saw you, but it faded soon. The sun was starting to rise and he looked like an angel with the rose light hitting his honey colored hair and his playful green eyes, that now looked exhausted and worried. He looked like an angel, and he had been your angel for the past few months. Your smile turned into a grimace as you approached him, and when Hvitserk finally wrapped his arms around you, you let the tears fall again. 

"I knew it wasn't a good idea" he muttered, his voice husky and deep. 

You let yourself sob for a few minutes. 

"It was" 

"Did the two get to talk?" 

"Not much" you nearly smiled "But I got to say what I needed to say" 

"Good" he nodded "It will stop" 

You nodded. The pain wouldn't last forever, at least not the intense pain that didn't let you breathe. Someday you would be able to think about your relationship and feel that warmth again. You just needed some time. 

"Let's go" he whispered "I'll cook breakfast" 

__________________________________

Ivar had a bad feeling when he woke up. He forgot to draw the curtains, and the sunlight that entered the room made him open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that your side of the bed was cold. The second was that it was cold and his legs were starting to hurt. Skipping his treatment would take its toll on him for days. He touched the part of the bed in which you laid after making love, looking at him with teary eyes and a dreamy smile. He pouted and looked away before the tears could reach his eyes. 

You had left his medicines next to the bed. Ivar nearly smiled, of course you would do something like that. Maybe he'd get up and go to the kitchen and you would be there, making coffee and trying to cook with the few things you could find in the fridge. Maybe you had put the earphones on and were listening to your favourite playlist as you danced around the kitchen. Maybe your face would lighten up when you saw him again. 

The pills were easier to swallow than the lump on his throat. He took his time, too scared to leave the room and not find you out there. He should have hold you tighter. 

Ivar put the sweatpants and a shirt on, and then the braces. His legs protested when he stood up, but he ignored them and walked slowly to the door. 

The flat was empty. Your shoes and purse were gone. Ivar's lower lip trembled and he stood there for a couple of minutes. Maybe you'd be back soon. Maybe you went to get breakfast. 

The weight of your absence washed over him for the first time. Freydis was gone, and now you had gone too. For months, he hadn't been with you but he knew you were there, that if he called you'd come, you'd be back to him and everything would be okay. Freydis made him feel so many things at the same time, but there was something missing, something that didn't fit. He did feel special, blessed by the Gods and important. And he did love Freydis, a lot, but then he saw you again. It would have been easier if you hated him, if you insulted and yelled at him, but you didn't. He had understood that during the wedding, that the only thing that he missed was you, he missed your relationship and how normal he felt with you. 

After years being rejected by everyone and overprotected by his mother, you came and treated him exactly as you would treat anyone else. And you made every single problem and struggle so easy Ivar couldn't help but fall in love with you. And it was a different kind of love, a different kind of relationship that he never thought he'd had. 

Freydis had been an intense crush, the first woman he truly looked at since you approached him that night at the bar. Of course he saw beautiful women every day, but it wasn't just your looks, it was something else. That thing he thought he had seen in Freydis too. 

His eyes saw the notebook on the kitchen counter. And he clenched his jaw trying to hold the tears back as he approached. When he recognized your handwriting his world collapsed again. You were truly gone. 

Ivar

He couldn't help the tears that fell down his cheeks. 

I know I can't tell you this in person, I wish I could. You're the most important person in my life, I love you, but I need to leave. Last night was amazing, and it was real, but then it ended and it stopped being real, right? Do you feel it too? It's not the same now. 

He rubbed his face, shaking his head as the tears rolled down uncontrollably. He did feel it too, as soon as he woke up. 

I don't know if you care, but I forgive you. I just need to leave because it hurt too much. I could stay and pretend everything would be okay, but it wouldn't be fair for neither of us. This is not good for anyone. Maybe someday, but not now. I don't regret anything, and I would approach and talk to you in that bar again without a doubt, because you made me really happy for years, and I hope I made you happy too, at least a bit. I don't know if we will ever see each other again, but if we don't, I hope you're happy and find that person, whether it is Freydis or someone else. I wish it was me, trust me, I wish it was me with my whole heart. But I need to end this now.

I truly love you, I always will. 

P.S. Please, take your medicines.

The last phrase should have made him roll his eyes, but instead it broke his heart a bit more. He threw the paper away, and barely managed to reach one of the kitchen stools before he collapsed, letting the crutch fall to the floor. He thought he'd stop breathing when the pain intensified. This was a kind of pain he didn't know. He had known sadness, rejection, disappointment and physical pain, but never this. You had entered his life and you stayed through everything, you were the only one that stayed out of love, and not because he was your family. And he had pushed you out. He pushed you and everyone that cared away because he was obsessed with a girl. Now you were gone and his brother didn't even want to be in the same room with him anymore. He was alone, and this wasn't something his mother could fix. 

Ivar heard the door opening. Hvitserk hesitated a couple of seconds when he saw him, but he sighed and closed the door. His brother didn't raise his head to look at him, and even if he wasn't too happy with Ivar, he couldn't help but approach him. He saw his little brother heartbroken, not the insufferable idiot with whom he had lived for the past few months. 

He didn't expect Ivar to hug him tightly, sobbing into his chest. He recognized that pain because he had spent the last couple of hours drying the same tears from your face. 

"Ivar" he sighed. 

"What did I do?" he took a deep breath "Why?" 

"You were a selfish, self-centered asshole" Hvitserk shook his head "But you will learn, you will grow" 

If Ivar was offended, he didn't say it. 

"She left me" 

"I know" he muttered "She's leaving all of us"

_________________________________________

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[writingsnmusings]

The Prince’s Favorite

pairing: ivar the boneless x reader

summary: reader is close to all the brothers, but this is just a glimpse into her relationship with the youngest son of ragnar. here is the time queen aslaug’s words confuse her.

a/n: i’m up for any suggestions for stories! what do you want ivar and reader to go through? as always, the other parts don't need to be read to understand, but the masterlist will be linked here.

A thrall shouted your name as you walked through the great hall, causing you to halt your steps. You curiously looked at the young girl who was nearly out of breath.

“P-Prince Ivar is requesting your presence in his chambers.” She panted, holding her stomach as she struggled to get out her words. “He says it is urgent.”

Your eyes widened as you mumbled a ‘thank you’ and ran to where he’d be. Your mind raced with a million thoughts. Was he injured? Did his brothers finally push him enough and he offed one of them? The amount of trouble Ivar got himself into was surely going to give you a heart attack one of these days.

“Ivar! What’s wrong?” You called out, not bothering to knock as you entered his chambers. There he sat on his bed, pouting.

“You weren’t here when I got back from training.” He sounded genuinely hurt which made you let out a laugh. He didn’t seem to like that as he began to scowl. “What is so funny?”

You shook your head and sat next to him, scooting under his furs. His room was always colder than everywhere else for some reason. “I’m sorry, my prince. But I just needed to get out for a few and take a little walk. Did you need me for something?”

Ivar nodded as a smile formed, “I’m exhausted and in need of a nap.”

“Alright...do you need me to do something for that?” You were now confused as to why he had called for you. Any one of the thralls could've undressed him and gotten him situated in bed. Your thoughts were interrupted as he moved around till his head lay directly on your lap, one of his arms hugging your hips to him. “Ivar?”

“Yes, I need you to lay here with me. For some reason I always sleep better when you’re near. Something about body heat, I assume.” His words were mumbled due to your dress but you understood him.

A small smirk graced your lips, “Oh i’m sure that’s it, my prince.” Your hand found it’s way to his hair and you began running your nails through it, something you knew he adored. The thought of Ivar needed you to simply take an afternoon nap warmed your heart. Him also making an excuse about needing your body heat made you laugh. You wished he’d be more open about his want for affection as you’d happily give him all you could.

It only took a few minutes for Ivar to fall asleep and you couldn’t help but gaze lovingly at the man in your lap. His face was free of wrinkles and scowls, just as you liked it. It was no secret that you found the prince handsome. Someone would have to be blind to not. His piercing blue eyes that held so much emotion, his plump lips that never failed to give a hint as to how he was feeling at that moment. You would’ve stayed admiring him if the door hadn’t opened.

Queen Aslaug made her way in and shook her head when you moved to sit up, not wanting to disturb her sons slumber. She sat herself in a chair close to the bed and eyed you two. You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, not knowing what to do. Ivar moved in his sleep and you stilled, not even wanting to breathe. Thankfully he only snuggled into your lap further, his hand patting around the furs till he found your free one.

“He’s very fond of you,” Aslaug commented. “I’m grateful for that.” You blushed as she spoke, being praised by the queen was always a good feeling.

“I’m very fond of him too.” You looked down at his sleeping form and continued playing with his hair. “Oh my queen, did you need me for something? I can get up and-“

She shook her head, “No, no. I heard commotion through the halls of Ivar’s need for you and I wanted to make sure my son was okay. Seems he is in perfect hands though.” Her smile returned and you didn’t know how to respond so you just nodded.

“He said he needed me for body warmth,” You chuckled lightly.

Aslaug did the same before speaking, “You baby him, Y/N.” Her voice held no ill tone, she was simply making an observation.

“I-” You went to argue, but realized she was right. You treated him differently from his brothers, anybody could see that. You wouldn’t feed Ubbe by hand or braid Sigurd’s hair or even think about doing half the things for Hvisterk.

“I do, but I think he deserves it.” You whispered as Ivar shifted again and this time his brows furrowed. You couldn’t stop yourself as your fingers touched his forehead and smoothed the wrinkles out. You wished nothing but good dreams for him.

“He does.” She stood up and gazed at her son one last time before turning back towards the door. “I thank you for taking care of him and I only hope he will do what he has to do the same for you.” She was out the door before you could comprehend what she said.

You didn’t understand what she meant, but shook it for your thoughts as Ivar started to wake up. He sighed and flopped onto his side of the bed, his eyes squinting at you.

“Hi.” You whispered.

He mumbled a ‘hello’ and shut his eyes again. “Did I hear my mother’s voice or was that a dream?”

“It was her. She came to check on you.” You explained. “She said something that confused me.”

His eyes opened at this, “Oh yeah? Tell me.”

You struggled to get your words out as he looked at you. His eyes never failed to leave you speechless. “It was, um, she just- never mind. I will figure it out.”

Ivar chuckled before wrapping an arm around you and dragging you to his chest. “My silly Y/N.” He left a kiss on your hairline before shutting his eyes for the last time. “Nap with me.”

You wanted to argue and say you had things to do, but the warmth of his arm around you and the feeling of him next to you was too comforting. You decided a small nap wouldn’t hurt as you got as close as you could to him. His arm tightening around you made you feel like nothing in the world could harm you.

Queen Aslaug’s words echoed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. Do what he could to take care of you? What did that mean?

XXXXXX

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[fandomreves]

arranged - vikings

ARRANGED PART 4

Plot: Her hand has been promised to one of the Ragnarssons since she was born, but who will she choose?

The day was particularly slow, you thought by walking around the town you’d find the Ragarsson’s easily, but truth was, it almost felt as if they were all hiding from you, it was a ridiculous thought, that you knew, but it still you couldn’t help but let your head jump into all crazy conclusions. 

However, before giving up, you decided to look in the throne room, should’ve been the first place to look in, but you were trying to avoid bumping into Ragnar or Aslaug, it was still all too new for you and you were convinced you made a fool out of yourself the night before at the feast. 

Eventually you were going to face them, if you married one of their kids you were going to constantly see them and speak to them, not only that but there was also a feast later tonight, in celebration of the riders that were to arrive. 

So you made your way to the throne room, defeated, you sighed when you spotted the open doors. You were close enough to see the inside of the room, Aslaug sat in the throne, a smile on her lips as she spotted you in the distance, which you returned, to your luck you didn’t spot any of her kids in the room with her, only a few servants tending to her needs. 

“Y/N !” 

Did you just get saved by the bell? 

He had spotted you as soon as you were about to walk into the room, for the gods were you pretty, you were alone and he didn’t want to risk you spending your time with another of his older siblings, he had seen you and Hvitserk the night before, and he had heard the people of Kattegat speak about how they had seen you and Bjorn earlier in the day, he didn’t want to be last, he wanted to have a real chance with you. 

So once you turned your head to look at him he smiled, and you returned your smile. Jogging towards you now that you had spotted him. 

“Hello, I’m Sigurd”

He scratched the back of his neck as he introduced himself, this was no time to be shy, what was he thinking? 

“Hi, I’ve been looking everywhere for you” 

You could tell he was younger than you, maybe by a few years, although you couldn’t deny that just like the rest of his brothers, he was handsome. 

“Oh you have?” 

He was smirking as he spoke to you, oh he was cocky too?

“Well, not necessarily you, but at least one of the Lothbrok’s”

You breathed out a laugh, you wanted to kill his cockyness in an even cockier way, matching the light fun energy he was giving you.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me, you’re hurting my feelings” 

He was dramatic, putting his hand on his chest, acting hurt by your words, sporting a toothy smile as he said it. 

“Oh stop it”

You laughed with him, turning your head towards the throne room quickly, spotting Asloug watching your interaction with your son, Sigurd copying your actions. 

“Uhm, would you like to go somewhere else? somewhere more private?” 

He suggested; he had forgotten for a second that his mother was watching you and him interact for the first time, and the truth was, he didn’t want her to intervene at any moment, making a fool out of himself. He was already the youngest son, he didn’t want you to think he was a momma’s boy either. 

And you nodded to his proposal, surprised when he took your hand in his and led you inside the throne room instead of out, “don’t bother us please mother”

Your eyes were wide as he spoke, giving the Queen a quick smile while he led you through the curtains behind the throne, walking the long corridors before opening a big wooden door. 

“I hope is not too much, I thought bringing you here would be comfier and warmer, instead of taking you somewhere else” 

He was scratching the back of his head again, letting go of your hand as you walked into his cozy bedroom, his bed was in the middle of the room which was different for you, but you didn’t mind. 

“So you took me to your room on our first formal meeting, how risky of you, some girls would even think this is inappropriate” 

You were testing the waters with him, putting him on the spot to see how he would react. Truth was, you were relieved he didn’t take somewhere else, you had been walking around all day and you were tired and cold, his room was cozy and comfy, just what you needed. 

“Oh no, no, no please don’t misinterpret things, we could go outside if you like I just thought-

You cut him with a laugh, his face was red with embarrassment, you walked towards him until you were facing him, “Thank the gods I’m not like the other girls, right?” 

He looked relieved once he noticed you were messing with him, so he closed the door behind him for more privacy. 

“You can sit in the bed if you want, I’ll take sit in a chair, we can talk that way” 

You liked how he took control of the whole situation, he was young but you could tell he knew what he wanted. 

“So should we skip the small talk and address the elephant in the room?”

You were sitting in his bed by now, legs crossed as he set a chair by the bed and sat on it. 

He smiled at your words, nodding in agreement, just like you he was ready to address the whole situation. Unlike his other brothers he was excited about this whole arrangement, at first he wasn't so onboard with it, but once he saw you when you first arrived he was more than ready to marry you. 

Physically, he was everything he had pictured a companion to be, and from what he had heard from Bjorn talking about you earlier, you were a good fighter; but from what he had noticed on the short time you had been talking to him, your energy was light, it matched his, you humored him too. He liked you, and he was just getting to know you still. 

“Well, what are your thoughts on it, I know you’re still young…”

He shook his head, “You’re acting as if you weren’t young either, I get I’m not like my siblings, I still have a lot of learning and growing to do, but I’m not worried about it, I’m grounded, I know what I want” 

“Right, no I get that, you’re 18?” 

He shook his head again, “I’m actually 17, but well, about this whole situation we are all in, well, I’m all in. I know we got little time to know each other and you still have to get through my other brothers, but so far I’m so in”

“Oh are you so in?” 

You laughed and leaned your body forward, getting closer to him. He was truly something else if you compared him to Bjorn for example, the energies were completely different, if you compared him to Hvitserk on the other hand, you could tell their energies were similar, but with so much less insecurity hidden under. 

Sigurd copied your actions and leaned his body forward like you, your faces only inches apart, eyes locked with each others, “Oh I’m so in” 

With him, it was so easy to be comfortable, be humorous, it made you wonder how he behaved during arguments, on tough decision making, when everything seemed impossible. 

You didn’t notice you had lost yourself in his eyes until his bedroom door busted open, harshly pulling both of you out of the trance, leaning back to your original positions. 

“Ubbe is calling us to train” 

It was Hvitserk, he looked as if he had just walked into the most intimate moment, your cheeks flushed red when you noticed it was him, you didn’t want him, or any of the Ragnarssons to have the wrong idea of you, specially since you hadn’t decided who you were going to marry, what if you and Hvitserk ended marrying and your future husband had just walked in on you being close to his little brother?

You were overthinking.

Sigurd had returned to his original position, scratching the back of his head, nodding his head towards his brother, “Oh yeah, I forgot, I’ll meet you there”. 

So Hvitserk nodded back and waved goodbye to you, walking out, leaving the bedroom door opened as he did. 

“I’ll see you at the feast tonight” 

You were standing up as you spoke, straightening the skirt of your dress as you spoke, he copied your actions, standing from his seat, “I’m sorry about Hvitserk, and about me cutting our meeting short”.

“Don’t apologize, it’s alright” 

You could tell in his face he was a little disappointed, and you were too, but you had to get ready for tonight, and he had plans.

“I’ll walk you out then”

>>Part 5.1<<

[honestsycrets]

Show Me I: Bitter Chocolate | [ Ivar x Reader ]

❛ pairing | ivar x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | even though its relatively recent since you’ve graduated, you’ve always had a passion for dessert making. you’re confident! just... maybe not with your new boss, ivar. 

❛  tags | bjorn & hvitserk dynamic, baking or restaurant au, referenced osteogenesis imperfecta, reader sucks at picking up on clues, referenced deafness, deaf!ivar 

❛ sy’s notes | i tried my best to lean on my shitty knowledge of baking shows to come up with some bullshit for this. additionally, he’s going deaf, hasn’t always been deaf. I tried to mix up since i usually see a lot of focus on the reader in reader inserts being the deaf one. 

You’re sitting barrel down from a tasting table, rolling a ring size too short over and over along your middle finger. The more you try not to look like a meek new graduate with a grand diplome in pastry, the more you felt like you were up a creek without a paddle.

“Sigurd showed us your portfolio but-- I don’t think this was in it.” one of the owners stood by your pastry. He had the type of eyes that could intimidate anyone back-- man or woman -- and imposition in the way he folds his arms one over another. He’s massive.

“It wouldn’t be. I made it just for this.”

The man sitting next to him laughs as he plucks up the bottle of wine you brought for the dessert. Far from being insulted, or turned off, the brothers look amused. “Wine and dine, Bjorn, get it?”

The big blond ignores him.

“Ignore him.”

“A pistachio cake filled with raspberry, wrapped in a mirror glaze and topped with a half-moon of tempered sugar, Mr. Ragnarsson.”

“Call me Bjorn.” he corrects before gesturing to his much punier brother. His hair is smooth as honey, eyes a murky green-- or blue. His brother scratches his beard, lowering himself at eye level with your piece. “We’re both Ragnarssons. There are five of us. What do you think Hvitserk?”  

“You tempered it yourself?” came his reply. He looks silly, alright, but he has the sort of hunger that you only hope to keep as a chef when he reaches for a fork. He slides his knife into the cake and pulls it apart.

“I wasn’t aware there was an alternative.”

Hvitserk looks up from his place lowered among the pastry. At once you think he’s making a mental note of how not to hire you, but his dumb grin widens, flicking his eye over to Bjorn. “I think she can handle him.”

Bjorn unfurls his arms and takes a fork, swiping into the pastry. His brother crunches on your spun sugar with a little bob of his head. “It doesn’t take much to impress Hvitserk,” he remarks, then eases his bite into his thin lips, considering what he’s eating for longer than he should.

“See, ah, ah?” Hvitserk teases, elbowing his much thicker brother in the gut. “She knows what she’s doing. Eat another. Do burpees later.”

“Shut up, Hvitserk.”

You bring your hands together and lace your fingers together hard enough that it’s like a prayer to god-- please, please, please let this be the one. For a moment, Bjorn looks unconvincingly at you. There’s something about you, you decide, that he has some reservations about.

You glance out of the office toward the grandeur of a full running kitchen. They’re crammed in it, everyone with their own station-- pans, pots, skillets, and plates. They’re squished three at a station and still, it seems to run at its perfect pace. You never hoped to be in culinary-- you wanted something bigger and better. Pastry-- that was your home.

“Well,” Hvitserk teases with a big, dopey smile. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

“Your plating looks like shiiiiit,” Hvitserk has this sing song to his voice that you could only attribute to a man that should have been on broadway.

“What’s wrong with it?” Bjorn leans back, raising his hands up.

“Too much sauce,” Hvitserk rumbles without missing a beat. “Looks like a jizzed up prostitute.”

“I hate to break it to you, brother, but most prostitutes wrap it.”

Hvitserk shrugs. “Guess you would know.”

The bad thing about working for five brothers was that you worked for five brothers. Bjorn and Hvitserk jumped off of one another in the kitchen like they were made to be there with one another. A head chef and his much littler, less imposing chef.

You rarely saw Sigurd, their brother, who kept himself to supplying before hours. Ubbe worked the front of the house. Time passed smoothly since your hiring a little over a month ago, and it was easy to get into the swing of the four brothers.

Despite there being five, as Bjorn once told you, you’d yet to hear of the last.

“Careful,” Ubbe stops you on your way in one day. You smooth your hand over your clean white uniform and tilt your head.

“What is it?”

“Our brother Ivar is back from England.” He almost seems anxious in his own sort of way. Strange for a Maitre D. But he’s there for his smooth personality and his handsome face-- because who could really get mad at someone that handsome? “He’s the head pastry chef. I’m not sure Sigurd let him know you were hired. He’s the sort of man that will snap on you if you’re the wrong person.”

This was why Ubbe was the front of house. Not only did he look good in a nice suit, or a good dress shirt with a slender tie, but he had the sort of stubbly smile that reflected genuine concern in his eyes. Enough to be imposing when he needed to be, enough to back down if that needed to be too. He must know something that you didn’t. You try not to think about it.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You were the wrong person.

You know that you had done something wrong when you brought the chocolate molds out from the blast chiller. Not because it wasn’t some beautiful chocolate, but because when you flipped it-- it didn’t flip. Unfortunately for you, you’re not saved by extra time.

“That looks like shit,” Amma peers over your station, biting her lip hard.

“Amma-- shhh,” you hiss.

“It’s not like he’s out--” Amma drops her sentence when she hears a heavy footfall one after another from the slapping gates. You glance over where she’s looking, finding that the man who must be Ivar, walks in with the aid of a crutch under his all-black uniform. He looks like he’s all business, more so than all the other brothers, because of the lack of humor on his face. His brothers hardly acknowledge his presence. For you, it’s hard not to.

It’s not like he’s particularly bad looking, after all.

“Hi Ivar,” she chirps, rushing past him when he doesn’t answer. Amma, you shout as gently as you can whisper. She’s gone in an instant. Ivar makes his way past the busy lunch party toward your working area.

“Hello,” you say as he shoulders by you without a response. You figure-- because you’re a good damn employee -- that you should make friendlies with the last of the Ragnarssons. Something catches his eye and Ivar seizes to a stop and looks to your mold on your workstation. He snatches it from you, flipping it around onto the counter and slams it. Over-- and over-- and over.

And it’s not coming out.

And then worse, it breaks apart.

Ivar bows his head on his forearm and out of nervousness your find your eye wandering-- over to Hvitserk. He’s holding what looks to be a gravy boat in his hand, grimacing with a little shrug, as he mouths for you to pay attention.

Ivar thumps his thick knuckle at your work station. Try again.

Maybe worse of all-- the man doesn’t even say one word to you. You retemper the chocolate.

Usually, something simple like tempering chocolate? Easy, done, finished. No problemo. This is the sort of stuff you could do in your dreams! Except, Ivar has this quality about him, the kind that is scrutinizing even when he isn’t saying anything. The rest of the week progresses the same. Either he doesn’t speak to you at all or doesn’t respond to questions, or has that look about him that you’re the greatest fuck-up to walk in his kitchen.

For the most part, his other chefs seem to not only be used to that, but flourish underneath his scrutiny. Chocolate, something that is so simple, is now your worst enemy. He works hunched over the lead pastry table on his elbows when not on his crutch, glaring at your chocolate like it had done something wrong.

“--if it’s wrong,” you start.

Ivar glances up at you, hard. Shut up, it feels like he says. Your lips press together in a tight seal.

“Right. I’ll just go-- go get the cheesecake.”

Yeah, mini cheesecakes sound good-- somewhere where you could bury your head and scream in the many shelves of the frigid walk in closet. One where your inaccuracies didn’t have to match up to Ivar’s forceful standards and failure didn’t flash like a neon light over and over again. Ivar flips the molds over and slip your chocolate domes out of their home, reaching for the soft foam to go with the dessert. And again, he doesn’t even acknowledge you.

He’s being a dick, so you leave.

“Wow,” the door behind you clacked open. There’s a quiet shuffle of feet as Hvitserk comes in, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a not-for-cooking cloth, because that’s gross, and tips his head to the side. A lock of his chestnut hair clings to his sheening forehead. It’s fucking cold in here. Maybe that’s why he came in. Or, like the others, maybe he wanted to laugh a little bit.

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Hvitserk laughs, clasping his hands together, then release. “You’d know if he hated you.”

“Yeah.” You snap back. “I do. He’s acting like a bitch. He doesn’t even talk to me.”

“He didn’t throw the plate at you.”

You snort. That’s a great start to a relationship with your new boss.

“But that might be because you’re a woman.” Hvitserk slips his hand beside your head, reaching past you to slide out the mini cheesecakes for the event, then taps you on the nose with his opposing hand, and you’re not crying, it’s just the change of temperature that’s messing with your head, because you’re NOT crying.

“Don’t worry babe,” Hvitserk strokes your back with his other hand. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“Not his other pastry chefs,” you say pointedly. Hvitserk opens his mouth, as if to tell you that you’re new, that Ivar will take time to warm up to you, when the door opens. Your boss stands there, holding his crutch stubbornly with one hand, looking at the metal tray. Then, his head shifts, accusatorily toward Hvitserk.

He turns to his brother. “I got your pie.”

“Hurry up,” Ivar says with a low drag that sounds slurred over.

Hvitserk shifts to the side, shrugging his shoulders, “But I got your pie.”

“I didn’t ask you.” Ivar stuffs his crutch under his arm to support his weight. Then, gesturing with two hands, he signs something that you only catch because of Hvitserk’s roaring laughter shaking the cooler altogether.

Hvitserk shuffles out, “Man, you just got back. Don’t be a bitch.”

Or maybe, you were the asshole.

After service, you’re sweeping the crumbles of chocolate that Ivar’s flung off the side during plating. The stations have been cleaned and most the other chefs had gone already. All but Ivar, reclining against his station, watching you sweep until he speaks with that same drag, the first words you ever heard out of him.

“I can teach you how to temper chocolate.”

You glance up at him, sweeping the bits into a picker upper, and you’ve never heard something more demeaning spoken in the kindest of way. His expression seems softer now. “I was nervous,” you excuse, bringing your hand to your chest. With a swirl of your wrist in a circle, you gesture, sorry. Ivar turns his head down. “How long have you been--”

“It’s a recent occurrence.” He snaps, cutting you off. “It’s not like-- not completely. Where did you learn that?”

“My niece? She’s uh-- speech impaired. I know ‘I’m hungry’, ‘Please’ and ‘More,’ too.”

Not the greatest way to start. Ivar cracks into his laughter slowly, running his hands through his long hair, then tipping his head back. His arms fold defensively over his chest. “Good for you.”

It should have died there, but rather, you went on.

“Look I’m not usually this shitty.”

He tips his head forward, raising his eyebrows. Really?

“--I’d like to show you that. I don’t work Sunday, if you have time for brunch?”

It’s not a half-cocked attempt for a date, it’s this stupid desire to show him you could be more than that girl who couldn’t make the simplest of dessert elements. It wasn’t sugar for god's sakes! It was chocolate! After a moment of mulling it over, he nods. You exchange phone numbers, and later, your address.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania​ @wish-i-was-a-mermaid​ @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer​ @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071​ @daughterofthenight117​ @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa​, @inforapound​ @winchesterwife27​ @feyrearcheron44​@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer​ @medievalfangirl​ @sallydelys​  @bluearchersstuff​ @affectionrabbitt​ @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou​ @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor

[cocovikings23]

New Start - Chapter 1 (Modern Ivar x Reader)

I start writing a little fiction with a Modern Ivar. Thanks to @youbloodymadgenius for supporting me. Sorry for my bad English, it is not my mother tongue.

Chapter one : Engaged

Summary: The reader goes for a job interview at the Ragnar & Sons Corporation and finds herself face to face with Ivar during the interview. He is a very strict sector manager but facing his potential new recruit, he will behave differently than normal.

As usual, you arrived early for this umpteenth job interview. So there you were, in front of this big building, perhaps the biggest you've ever seen, remembering your previous failures of the last few weeks. It's true that you had had a series of interviews, none of which had resulted in a contract. Since you had left your home country and set off for a completely unknown city, you had a difficult start, you worked in a café as a waitress for the first few months and after you had had enough, you decided to go back to your original line of work: negotiation. There are a lot of companies recruiting at the moment, you thought it was now or never to try your luck. After a dozen or so interviews, some of which you'd like to erase from your memory, like the last one, where the guy openly made you understand that in order to get a job here you have to go through the "I'm lying down to succeed" box; of course you took your legs and left.

You enter this gigantic building through large transparent sliding doors, to reach the main lobby of the Ragnar & Sons Corporation, THE biggest trading company in the area and the name Lothbrok is on everyone's lips in the small town where you landed a few months ago. You easily reach the reception counter where you see the four switchboard operators dressed the same way: a black skirt suit with a white shirt ultra well ironed underneath it. Their hands are manicured, their contouring was so perfect that Kim Kardashian can go get dressed, their eyeliner line in the corner of the eye is also measured to the millimeter. You look at yourself in the long mirror behind the manicured quadruplets, as you so aptly called them, you look dull compared to them : Your hands are far from perfect since you cut your nails that very morning so that you wouldn't have a single inch that could get caught in your stockings, your make-up is very light and your hair, oh gods, you struggled for thirty minutes in the bathroom with your mane and finally opted for a professional style bun despite the fact that some of your hair is receding.

You get out of your mind when the Barbie asks, "Welcome to the Ragnar & Sons Corporation, can I help you? »

"Uh ... yes ... hello, I'm Miss Y/LN Y/N, I have a professional interview ... ",

She types on her computer for a few seconds, takes her phone, dials a number and says " She has arrived ", then hangs up to finally announce " Mr Lothbrok, is waiting for you, he is on the 15th floor, office number 01 ". You thank her with a touch of apprehension, the knot in your belly intensifies when the elevator doors open, you go inside, press the number 15 and you let yourself be carried further up in this big tower. You barely have time to do a mini self-meditation to calm yourself down that you have already arrived at your destination. You get out of the elevator, walk straight ahead, along a large silent corridor and finally arrive in front of a double door on which is written in the top right corner "01". There you are, you know nothing about your recruiter except that it is either Ragnar himself, but this is unlikely because he is very often travelling abroad, or one of his sons.

Like any good candidate you took a keen interest in the company in order to avoid trick questions during the interview, so you know that the boss is Ragnar Lothbrok and that he runs the company with his five sons: Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar. You were even more stressed for this interview when you put a face to these names, there are some pictures of the sons on the site: all of them were very attractive. But your attention was caught by Ivar, the youngest of the family, in one photo you noticed that he wears a brace on his right leg and that he holds himself up with a crutch, but what intimidated you the most was the look in his eyes: his eyes are the bluest in the family, an intense, authoritative look... You begged the gods that it be one of his brothers who welcomes you the next day.

You come back to you when you hear the voice of a man behind you asking if everything is all right. You turn back to him, your eyes immediately widen because you know him or at least you know who he is: a tall man, hair in a man's bun, green eyes, he was one of the Lothbrok sons, he is Hvitserk. Having no answer from you, he repeats his question: "Is everything all right, Miss? Has my brother made you miserable or not yet? "he says with an amused look.

You sputter : " yes... well no... well I mean, yes I'm fine and no I haven't seen anyone yet " you come to your senses " I'm Y/N, I'm here for the new job, I have to meet Mr Lothbrok ". Hvitserk continues with the same amused look, "So you have to talk to my little brother Ivar, he's the one who manages recruitment.   After his words, it's as if the ground is crumbling under your feet, your greatest fear, since the call to confirm your appointment, will materialize. You haven't had time to understand what's going on, because Hvitserk has already gone into his brother's office to announce your arrival: "I found your new victim at your door little brother, try to be nice this time, don't let her go away crying" he says, laughing. Hvitserk leaves the office and winked at you, he closes the doors, you wonder why the gods punished you in this way, you want to have this interview with Hvitserk after all.

You turn to Ivar, who is sitting behind a large wenge-colored desk, which is arranged in a very orderly, even structured way, each pen is the same size, all stored in a brown leather jar. Ivar, who taps on her Mac, frowns before giving up "You're early, we had an appointment at 9:30, it's 9:15". You swallow and he goes on " But since you're here we'll get rid of that now ". You bend your head and tell yourself that it was a waste of time, another failure, you even think of resuming your job as a waitress to provide for your needs while you find a job worthy of your skills when Ivar resumed the speech "You can settle down" by pointing to the chair in front of you. He didn't even bother to look at you, he's too busy with his screen. You settle down on the chair, which itself is made of brown leather and is quite comfortable, put your little purse on the floor next to you, put your sweaty hands on your knees and clear your throat. You have time to watch the executioner who would torture you for twenty minutes, asking you questions, each one more twisted than the other, for a job that you wouldn't get. He is dressed in a dark blue suit, very well adjusted to his size, gods that he is muscular, you can see his biceps through the jacket that fits perfectly. Under this suit, he wears a bright white shirt, slightly open with three buttons, you do not see his legs, they are hidden by the desk but you notice his crutch on the armrest of his beautiful luxury armchair. Faced with so much charm and charisma, you feel a knot in your chest.

Ivar is typing on his keyboard one last time before closing his computer, he looks up to start the interview when he stops in his tracks as he looks at you. "Then Miss," his eyes become even bluer, he freezes like a statue for a few moments before resuming, "Miss Y/L/N, we are going to start the interview," he has become different than when you entered his office, a kind of vulnerability has taken hold of him. Which doesn't help you any more because you are at the height of your stress. "Tell me a little bit about yourself, why do you want to work here?"

" I've only been in Kattegat for a few months, I worked as a waitress in a café in the center to acclimatize myself and I wanted to go back to my original skills in negotiation, business, " you answered.

"Hmm I see.." Ivar runs her fingers over her lower lip while continuing to stare at you like a hunter watching his prey, you feel your cheeks warm, the atmosphere in the room gets heavier and heavier... A long silence lingers when Ivar's cell phone begins to ring. He takes his eyes off you to look at the caller, makes a gesture with his finger to cut the call. He looks up at you again, to finally resume the conversation. "Well, Y/N, you know that we are the largest trading company in Kattegat and I, unlike my brothers, hate failure. I want to be certain of your skills and now you're not proving anything to me," you swallowed loudly, not knowing what to say.

Ivar continues, "For a person who wants to demonstrate her qualities as a trader you are very quiet..." he says with a sly smile. But what an asshole !, you think.

In order to put an end to this humiliation as soon as possible you start to take your bag on the ground to leave, you dare to speak up. "No disrespect Mr. Lothbrok, I think your behavior is totally inappropriate, I think it is more reasonable to end this interview now, thank you...".

"Please sit down Miss Y/L/N", Ivar cuts you off, you are surprised that your only decision is to obey this tyrant. He remains silent, spinning slightly from left to right in his authoritarian boss chair, smiles "Finally, the little waitress has character...". Ivar gets up, uses his crutch to walk up to you, sits on the edge of his desk right in front of you, his crotch in front of your eyes. Despite the fact that he's a complete asshole, he's still a very handsome and attractive man, the fact that he's getting closer to you doesn't leave you indifferent. He stooped down to your level to look you straight in the eyes, your faces are only a few centimeters away from each other. You can feel his warm breath caressing your cheeks, your mouth opens slightly by itself. You rub your legs together to try to hide the fact that some kind of excitement is building up in your lower abdomen. He bends his eyes to finally break this moment that has become erotically embarrassing. "As I was saying, failure is not a possibility, I may regret it but I will give you your chance, don't disappoint me otherwise... " he leans towards your ear to continue with a broad smile " I should punish you ". He gets up, taking up a neutral expression to get back behind his desk taking up his Mac to finish the emails that were in progress before your arrival.

"You're hired Y/N", he drops this information by waving you off his desk "You'll see Clara at the reception desk for your contract".

You get up, gently says to him " Thank you Iv... Mr Lothbrok, goodbye ". You don't see him because you already have your back to him but at the announcement of his first name, he has sparks in his eyes. You close the door behind you, you think that you had spent an eternity in this office when you were there for only 15 minutes.

Hvitserk walks past his brother's office and asks you about your interview: "I see you are still alive, my brother spared you! "he says jokingly, "and then what was the sentence he gave you?" he asks,  taking it a little more seriously,

"Ivar hired me" you say shyly, Hvitserk equal to himself took you in his arms "Congratulations, you are officially our colleague now, so no formalities between us, OK? "He puts an arm around your shoulder to guide you through the corridor. "Come with me, I'll give you a guided tour of the premises and introduce you to my other brothers". As you both walk away from Ivar's office, you look behind you, your body wants to come back to him while your mind is slowly getting used to the idea of this new life that is being offered to you.

@youbloodymadgenius @therealcalicali

[blkgirlblvd]

Ｃａｓｈ Ｒｕｌｅｓ

𝘼/𝙉: I hope everyone enjoys this, I enjoyed making it.

𝙏𝙖𝙜: @youbloodymadgenius

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧: Modern Ivar x Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: Angst, Cheating, Fluff, Swearing,

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: 𝟹𝟹. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ. & 𝟹𝟽. ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ғᴀɪʀ.

Being with Ivar was a challenge. Not because of Ivar himself, but what came with being with him. The spotlight. 

He loves it, the spotlight. It was the only time when people would give him the attention he longed for, listening to his every word, but it wasn't what he wanted. He knew they saw a cripple boy, seeking acceptance like a broken man seeking a bottle, but he didn’t care since, at the moment, all eyes were on him.

After a few years, he began dating you, an aspiring indie singer, He strolled into your job, captivated by the melodic tone of your voice on the song. You wouldn't deny he caught your eye as well. not because he was a cripple, but because he was breathtaking to look at. 

"Ivar, this is too much.” Turning at the sound of his name, he found you, wearing the most expensive evening gown that he purchased. You told him you could afford your own dress, but he couldn’t help but spoil you. He thought you deserved the finest. 

“No no it's not, you look breath-taking y/n.” walking toward you with his cane, he touches your hands, gazing into your eyes. He couldn't believe how beautiful you looked when you put a gown on. You were a fairy-tale. His Queen.

"And you look very handsome, I say we cleaned up nicely." Smiling into the kiss Ivar gave you, you couldn't help, but feel the butterflies in your stomach rise inside of you. You once told him that and he called you a lunatic, but it was true. He made you feel good about yourself.

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Arriving at the party, you tried to put on a happy face, attempting to seem interested in the ball, yet everything was so tedious. The people you talked with were only interested in your status with Ivar, you lost count of how many times someone asked invading questions about you and him. 

"Love, come with me, I want you to meet someone important." taking your hand, Ivar moved through the crowd of people, searching for whoever he desired for you to meet. The bottom of your dress was tangled in your shoes, almost tripping as he dragged you to the destination.

"Ivar, where the hell are you taking me." Then you saw her, his mother. 

"No. I can't meet her here, let me go right now, Ivar Lothbrok." He couldn't even take you seriously. You've been asking to meet his mother for quite a while, and now that the woman was before your eyes, you acted like a little child. He thought. 

"Stop acting like such a Christian, she'll love you." Turning around to look at you, the fear was evident on your face. He could feel your hands shaking, trembling as he held onto them, too afraid to let them go he edged closer to you, feeling his warm breath close to your ears.

"I am a Christian Ivar, but that's not important. What's important is I can't meet her, she'll be so disappointed once she gets one good look at me." Looking down too ashamed to look at Ivar, he quickly raised your head with the end of his fingertips, wanting you to meet him eye to eye. Those sad, yet beautiful blue eyes he had.

"Well let's disappoint everyone, I'm in love with you and no one can change my feelings for you." 

"Promise me, Ivar Lothbrok." raising your pinky up in between your very close bodies. Ivar chuckled for you always knew how to make an intimate moment childish. Yet in a good way. 

"I promise." A smile couldn't help but land on your face after that confirmation. Telling Ivar you'll meet his mother. You could sense your nerves trying to crawl their way back into your stomach and hands, clutching tightly to your dress. You hope that would be enough to get you through this moment.

"Ivar, my beautiful son, give your mother a hug." Now that you were up close, there was no denying that she was the most beautiful person you've met. Watching the beautiful moment between mother and son, you couldn't help but admire how handsome Ivar looked with his hair neatly up in a bun to the striking way his muscles flex when he would hold his mother. 

"Mother, I want you to meet the most beautiful woman in my life...besides you, y/n." Standing closer to Ivar, you could feel the judging eyes of the people watching this encounter unfold. You knew how well respected Ivar’s family were, but you weren't from here, so you didn't know the full impact till you saw your face in the newspaper enjoying a date with Ivar.

"It's nice to meet you…"

"Aslaug. And your name is?" 

"Y/n." You couldn't even look at Ivar, yet you could sense him loving every moment of this. He wouldn't tell you, but he prayed his mother approved of you too, besides his mother no one was ever on his side voluntarily, after meeting you, you had his back not when he was in the wrong, but when people doubted his ability you were very quick to praise him on his achievements. 

“I must say you’re a pretty thing y/n, tell me you are keeping Ivar alive over at his place, he used to call me all the time asking how to use a stove.” Laughing at her remark about Ivar, you could visibly see Ivar struggling to work one. The moment you two became friends, he would immediately call you asking about how to use home appliances as if it was that difficult.

“I try to, I can’t let this handsome face cause destruction around the house.” Finally getting a glance at Ivar, You could see the creases of his lips forming a smile, enjoying the little banter between his mother and you, even though it was at the expense of his inability to handle living alone. 

“Ivar I’m taking her off your hands, find your brothers for me will you.” Walking with his mother to her original spot in the corner of the ballroom, you two discussed a variety of topics. You heard the rumors from people at work about the scandal with Ragnar, Lagthera, and her, but you didn’t care for the majority. You can’t help who you fall for and if he decides to tell you the truth when first meeting you just have to live with the consequences and try to make it work. She wasn’t a bad woman just fell for the wrong man. You thought. 

“Y/n, I want you to be honest with me. I can detect a lie quickly so it would be in your best interest, to tell the truth, do you truly even see yourself with Ivar or is this just a fame scheme?” Your heart stopped for what seemed to be a long time, looking Aslaug in the eyes, you knew you were looked shocked to the eye, but she still held her gaze awaiting your answer, you knew she would ask a question like this, but so after the first meeting. You heard many women tried to slither their way into the family and she easily got rid of them, you wouldn't lie and say that didn’t terrify you a little.

“You’re one of the good ones y/n be sure to hold on to my troublemaking son.” 

"I will...for as long as I can." Asluag sadly smiled as she heard the last bit of your sentence, hoping she didn't hear what you said, you excused yourself in search of Ivar, and found him where you most certainly didn't expect him to be. The ballroom floor dancing with another woman. Cameras were on them instantly and he enjoyed it, smiling brighter than you ever saw him smile, going along with the facade he likes to put on.

She looked as though she was enjoying herself as well, her hands were firmly placed behind his head pressing herself closer to him, hoping for more physical contact. Irritation and jealousy soon appeared on your face watching as cameras and eyes were all on them, they looked like a celebrity couple, soon irritation became embarrassment as people whispered among themselves watching you in pity as you watched the man you love dance with the beautiful woman.

"That's his ex-fiancee Freydis." Looking next to yourself, Hvitserk appeared. He was the only Lothbrok you could say gave you a normal welcome when Ivar introduced you to his brothers. Ubbe was overwhelming, to say the least, asking many questions about you and your family, Sigurd was rude and flirtatious, Ivar warned you he would act that way, and Bjorn was too focused on trying to find a new woman to lay with him so he was occupied, to say the least.

"He didn't tell me anything about her, but I can see why, she's pretty." 

"She is a beautiful thing, but trust me she has nothing on you, you encourage him in the best ways."

"Thank you, Hvitserk let me get your brother before he embarrasses me further."

Gracefully walking over to Ivar, knowing eyes were on you now, you tapped his shoulder, instantly he turned around, but the look on his face, you couldn't read if it was annoyance or anger. 

"Mind if I cut in?" Smiling at Freydis, the tension was evident as you watched her mannerisms toward you. She eyed you quickly, inspecting you as if you were something that didn't deserve to be her presence.

"Of course you can...Freydis meet my girlfriend y/n." 

"Mhm...hello." you immediately wanted to break away from the conversation, anger was quickly rising back into after her response. Ivar could tell you were mad from the way your jaw was clenched, keeping your remarks in.

"Did Ivar tell you I was his ex fiancee."

"No, because you're something left in the past...it was nice meeting you, but I'm very tired, and we have to leave." Before either of you could say goodbye, you were dragging Ivar by the arm, wanting to get out this event before you made a scene, and he knew you would.

The car ride home was silent. Neither of you wanted to speak, for if you spoke you would start an argument, and if he spoke he would make the situation worse. He tried to let you know he was sorry by lightly touching, but you always flinched away from him, as if he was something disgusting. Even as you both made it back to his apartment, you remained quiet leaving a big gap between you two in bed. 

He didn't understand why you were being so dramatic, he knew he should have told you about Freydis since he knew he couldn't avoid her, yet dancing with her shouldn't have affected you so much since you know he loves you.

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You two haven't talked in days. 6 days to be exact, Ivar was counting. Every time an opportunity came for him to talk to you, you began walking away, locking yourself in the bathroom or just leaving the apartment completely. He was getting frustrated, he missed you and you ignoring him, made him not even want to be in the space as you. 

You noticed. He would come home later than he usually would, but you never said anything even though you wanted to question him as soon as he walked through the door. You needed him back, you wanted him back, the emotional separation was taking a toll on you and you thought you would lose your sanity if you didn't make it right with Ivar. But the hurt was there. He couldn't let go of the attention he craved and you thought you gave him enough to know he didn't need everyone's eyes on him.

As you went on with your day, thoughts of him kept interrupting you, you thought of the way he would claim your lips as sanctity from the outside world, you could remember him trying to braid your hair, failing since he couldn't understand your instructions, or the time you saw him in pain because of his legs, you'll never forget the way he looked at you as you helped him through the pain.

"Gina, I'm leaving early, but I'll be back." Running out of the underground club, you began running home since Ivar didn't work today, it was the perfect time to talk to him. Getting closer to the apartment, your phone began buzzing intensely, annoying you as you ran. 

As you took your phone out, you wished you hadn't. Looking at the first news article showed him kissing her. Freydis. He did it again. Enjoying the spotlight. Without any regards of the consequences, putting the phone away your right hand began to shake as you walked back to the apartment, you could feel the tears wanting to burst out, maybe even a scream, but not in public would do it, knowing these people might have saw it, you wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you broken.

Arriving at the apartment you could feel your right hand still shaking, holding it onto your Jeans, you breathed, trying to calm yourself down if you walked through the door. 

"Calm down, calm down, calm down." You whispered. 

As you put your hand on the doorknob, Ivar instantly opened it after hearing the sound of your voice, he wasn't expecting you so early, so to see you brought happiness inside him until he saw your face. The tears began to fall as soon as you looked into those blue eyes. Walking past him you say on the couch shaking your leg.

"Baby what's wrong?" Ivar answered with concern.

"How could you."

"Excuse me?" You kept your head down, but you could feel the puzzling look on his face as he rubbed your back trying to comfort you.

"How could you do this to me, to our relationship...was anything real to you Ivar?" Getting up since you couldn't stand the mere touch of him, you watched Ivar, the realization appearing instantly on his face. He quickly tried to come near you, but you shushed him to sit back down.

"You didn't think anyone was going to see you...dancing with her at the ball wasn't enough to humiliate me?" 

"That's not even fair." Ivar said. He couldn't think. He wanted to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but that's not good enough. 

"Nothing's fair Ivar...and I was too damn stupid to think that this thing between could be something." 

"This relationship is everything to me...I just fucked up because I got caught up in-"

"Yes you did get caught up...in the fucking spotlight, the fame baby, that's your problem you want everyone looking at you, knowing they don't give a fuck about you as I do!" Ivar stood up, walking toward you with his cane, you could see he was pissed as you watched the way his nose flared up, but you didn't care. He hurt you.

Leaning up against the wall, Ivar trapped you, you could smell his cologne, attacking your nose, you wanted desperately to kiss him and give in to him, yet your emotions cloud any sexual thought that you had.

"Don't you dare try and talk about my issue, when you just as well have a problem...I'll admit I have a problem, but your emotions are infuriating, how could you ignore for 6 days, I was trying to reconcile with you and you kept pushing me away, I was sitting here just right here thinking you were going to end it all with me."

"Because I'm hurting Ivar...I thought me being with you would suffice." 

"You do suffice I'm just an idiot to not see anything clearly...please don't give up on me." Holding your hands, Ivar kissed them, you could feel the butterflies rising, yet your tears flowed harder, wishing you could stop feeling this way for this man.

"Stop Ivar...you want to know why I think you do the things you do...I think you're just afraid to be happy because nothing you truly wanted happened for you...your father, your legs, pity surrounds you as you think….but I saw you for the broken man you are and fell in love with it and it still wasn't enough so we should just separate from each other since my emotions are too much and you need the fame constantly." 

"It's not true y/n, you are enough, I love you so much, relationships are about making mistakes and working through them building as partners, this is just our moment...please you're breaking my heart." Ivar stared deeply into your eyes as the desperation poured off his lips. Staring back you tired looking somewhere else but your vision always reverted back to him. Looking at him in this depressing state you couldn't fight the urge to kiss him. To feel him before you completely broke his heart. Pulling you closer to his body he held your face kissing you passionately, hoping you would feel all the emotions he was pouring into this kiss. And you did feel it. The pain. The love. The insecurity. But you knew what needed to be done.

Breaking away the kiss, you shoved him off trying to get yourself together, knowing you looked a crying mess. Both of you breathing heavily from the kiss, all you two did was stare at each other, the hurt was in both of your eyes and you wished you could turn back time, so you could stop yourself from this tragic end.

"We shouldn't hold on anymore longer, I know we love each other and maybe we'll get back together, I don't know what's in store for me, but we each have things to work on." 

As you walked out the door, you knew you completely broke him and he did the same to you.

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless)

The Cripple and the Drunk

Synopsis: During the feast before Bjorn’s raid to the Mediterranean, an ally joins them for celebration. One Son of Ragnar Lothbrok catches the eye of the Earls daughter.

Warnings: Ivar, mentions of raiding, drinking, sass, smut, choking, dirty talk (kinda), praise kink (cause we know Ivar needs some love), talk of impotence, slight homophobia at the end

I don’t own the gifs. The family tree is made on the MEWHO? phone app. Great app 10/10 would recommend^^.

The laughter of drunk Vikings was so loud one might have thought there was no music. Yet the celebration was more prominent than usual. After all, one of the Queens, sons is leaving for his first raid. Two sons of the legendary King Ragnar are going to discover unknown lands just like their father did before he became unforgettable. 

So a grand celebration to properly say goodbye and thank all their allies was in order. Aslaug sat behind a table with her sons, and Bjorn rounded the room greeting people. "The great Queen Aslaug. You have not aged a day; if it weren't for your sons all grown up, I would think you were still the same." The voice belonged to a woman in a dark blue gown with her dark hair tied up. She sauntered over to them and smiled at the Queen of Kattegat. "It is an honor to see you again, my Queen." 

"Earl Ylva, what a surprise to see you." Aslaug mussed, staring at the woman before her. The last time they saw each other, Ragnar went to Paris for the first time. Ylva and her husband joined Ragnar because of their thirst for glory, only for the man to lose his life, and Ylva take his place as Earl of Yugar. The female never got her revenge on the Franks and instead stayed in her Earldom with her children. And now she is back acting as if she did not spit in Ragnar's face the last time she saw him.

"Bjorn, send a messenger asking me if I wanted to come. I did want to ignore it, but my sons would not listen." Ylva confessed her face, a mix of anger and pride. 

Aslaug perked up at that and leaned closer to Ylva, offering her a seat near her. "So, you bought your sons with you?"

"I bought all of my children with me. All six of my vicious beasts." The older woman laughed before finishing her whole cup in one sip. The Ragnarsson looked at her in shock. They faintly remembered her from when they were children. She was very protective of her children, especially since she lost her husband. They knew she had many sons. Yet they never knew the exact count.

"So, you have six sons?" Ubbe asked curiously, looking the woman over. She didn't look like a mother of six; she had a few faint wrinkles on her face. Yet no hint of a worn-out mother of a pack of 'vicious beast'. 

"Gods, no. Only five. The sixth is my daughter. Thank the gods for that." Ylva laughed, looking at Aslaug with a raised eyebrow. "Sons are alright, but what I wanted from my marriage was a daughter. But apparently, I had to push out five  little menaces before I could finally rest. I take it, you understand; you do have a lot of sons too."

Aslaug smirked at that, taking a sip of her cup of mead. "Oh, I do understand—blessings and curses at the same time." 

Ivar frowned up at his mother, offended. "Am I a curse, mother?" Aslaug looked towards her youngest son and smiled at him kindly. 

"Of course not." Ivar grinned at that answer while Sigurd scoffed only for Ubbe to shush him. A man walked by them trailing behind a pretty girl with auburn hair and a dark dress with a flower pattern. He looked angry as he spat curses at her for ignoring him. The girl then spun on her heel and looked at him, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

She swirled the liquid in her cup around as she made the man uneasy with her stare. "I am not interested. There is nothing..." Her blue eyes trailed up and down his frame stopping at his crotch. "Impressive about you. You would be a waste of time. Now leave." 

Hvitserk choked on his drink, while Ubbe smirked at the cheeky female. The insulted man stomped off, muttering how she was an ungrateful whore. The girl looked at the two mothers behind the table and smiled. "Mother, I have been looking for you all over. My Queen, Prince's." 

After bowing, the Ylva's daughter sat down next to the Earl and smiled at the Queen. "If you keep scaring away every man, I will never get rid of you, love."

The auburn-haired female smirked at that and let out a fake laugh. "I don't scare every man away, Mother. Only the ones that dare to speak to me." She trailed her keen eyes over the people around the table and looked at Margrethe. The blonde thrall looked miserable sitting next to Ivar. "Men are such bores. Women, on the other hand, are more exciting. Fewer problems with them." She studied the pretty thrall who blushed under her gaze. She was shamelessly flirting with the other girl.

"Love." Warned Ylva disapprovingly, angered by her daughter's attitude around the royal family. 

"Don't worry, mother. I didn't swear off men just yet." She looked around the room and frowned at a group of men eating mushroom while in a burping contest. "Unfortunately."

"You must be Ylva's daughter," Aslaug called out, watching the pretty girl who had all of her sons, expect Ivar, staring at her in awe. Despite her earlier anger, the Earl smirked in pride and pulled her daughter closer.

"Aslaug, this is my pride and joy, Skuld." The young girl smirked at the introduction and said, " What a pleasure it's to meet the Queen of Kattegat.

"Skuld is the name of the goddess of destiny. So are a Valkyrie also?" Hvitserk teased flirtingly, making the girl look over her shoulder and lean closer to him. 

"I do sometimes have the desire to send people to Valhalla. But I am no goddess, my Prince." Skuld teased back, making Ubbe laugh at his brother's attempt. 

"You are quite a beautiful girl, Skuld. You must have many suitors." Aslaug voiced, thinking of engaging the girl to one of her sons. She interested the Ragnarssons, and an alliance with a strong shieldmaiden and the Queen of Kattegat might come in handy. 

"Oh, I do, but they never stay for too long," Skuld explained, making a thrall refill her empty cup. 

"With how pretty and smart you are? Why would anybody want to leave?" Ubbe took his turn, trying to woo the newcomer. The Earl's daughter turned in her seat to face him better and locked their gazes together. 

"That is very easy to answer, my Prince." She leaned closer, making Ubbe do the same. "I... have a terrible personality." She burst out laughing, making Hvitserk laugh at his older brother in return. So Ubbe hit him over the head for good measure. 

A cup slammed against the table, startling them all. They turned their heads towards the sound source to see Ivar glaring at Skuld with a terrified Margrethe by his side. "You are so annoying. You must not have gotten a lot of attention as a child, going around charming and insulting men." 

Everybody looked at him in shock while Skuld laughed at his attempt to insult her and sipped from her cup. "Oh no, I got plenty. I just got addicted to it. But you must know all about that, my Prince."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ivar hissed back, glaring at her with all his might. He looked like a rabid dog ready to murder his prey at any moment. 

"What do you think it means?" Skuld teased her voice like honey while she leaned over the table, showing her cleavage to the angry Prince. 

Ylva pulled her daughter back by her arm and looked at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to remind her who she is talking to. "How many cups have you had, love?" Skuld looked at her mother with a face void of any emotion before smiling at her kindly.

"Not enough if I am to spend the whole night here." She whispered back before gracefully standing up and looking at the Queen. "It has been a pleasure meeting the woman who charmed the legendary Ragnar Lothbrok, and your sons, of course. But now, if you excuse me, I must go annoy other people."

And with that, she left the table to refill her cup and mingle with the crowd of drunken Vikings. She could see some of her brothers standing around drinking, boasting, or flirting their way thought the feast. She loved feasts as big as this. She could easily go around drinking the night away without her family breathing down her neck about her behavior. Her mother tolerates a lot but from her children, but her patience wears thin whenever they make fools of themselves before essential people.

'The great shieldmaiden Ylva the Bold. The woman who killed more men than her late husband. As brave as a lion with her six cubs ruling over Yugar as she deserved. How many bards sing praises of her glory.' What a load of bullshit it was. Her mother was a strong woman, yes. But she was nothing unusual in Skuld's eyes. She knew her since birth; she was fed by her, bathed, played with her. Ylva the Bold was a mother first, then she was an Earl and shieldmaiden second. 

Her children didn't carry their father's name, for it would get no recognition anymore; he died an honorable death fighting on foreign soil alongside Ragnar, Lagartha, Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald. But their mother's name held more power. They were Ylvassons and Ylvasdottir to everyone. So they used those names with pride. Afterall they were lions too, and lions fear no one. 

"Hello." Rolling her eyes at the man's audacity, Skuld turned around to be greeted with a tall, handsome man before her. He had fiery red hair like fire and the greenest eyes she ever saw. "My name's Njord. I couldn't help but come over; your beauty is just so... intriguing."

Skuld smiled at the handsome stranger and took a step closer to him till they were chest to chest. Or chest to stomach in her case. "I am Skuld Ylvasdottir. It must say you are intriguing as well. Where are you from?"

The man was obviosly flattered by her compliment by the way his chest puffed up in pride. Or the smirk that he now wore on his face, as if he did some remarkable deed by getting her to talk to him.  Truth is Sklud liked to play with her victims before she rejected them. It was more fun that way, to build up their confidence only to see them burn and crumble afterward. 

"Ylvasdottir. So I did get to talk to royalty today, after all. And here I was concerned I would be ignored today. Have you come to say goodbye to your family? Or you secretly a shieldmaiden yourself?" He was charming; she had to give him that. But Skuld had better things to do than to talk to a man. Discover the bottom of the mead barrel, for instance. Maybe if she got drunk enough, she would look for him.

"Oh, I am no shieldmaiden. My mother likes to say the only weapon I wield is a sharp tongue. I leave the bloody messes to my brothers; they take more joy in it than I. And you? Only saying farewell or going away too?" She hid her lips behind her cup to cover her smirk before his forest green eyes. 

The redheaded Viking pulled her to his side by her waist and looked down at the surprised girl. "I am sailing away, of course. Make a name for myself. I arrived with Harald Finehair, and I will come back alive and famous. The Ragnarssons will envy my success, and women will throw themselves at me. " And al the possibilities of sleeping with him were gone now. He spoke of glory as if it was so easy to gain. If it was that simple everybody would be famous and well known. But fame demanded sacrifice, sometimes too high of a price to bear. And yet this man though he would gain it by sailing alongside better men than him. What a fool. He would come back to Kattegat as a corpse.

"So that is why you are talking to me? To see if I will throw myself at you right now?" She questioned her tone of voice, giving nothing away. Deep inside, she already hated him, but she was taught to hide her distaste behind polite smiles and fake laughs—anything to please the simple-minded warriors that could become useful one day. 

The Viking shook his head and put his large hand on her face, caressing her smooth cheek with affection. "I don't want to offend you. If I did, please forgive me. I just couldn't help myself; you are the most intriguing girl I have ever seen. I had to talk to you, even if I am not famous yet.  But I am strong, intelligent, and kind. I would be perfect for you."

She wanted to throw her drink at him or slap him. Who does he think he is? She wasn't drunk enough to deal with a man too full of himself, touching her without permission. Luckily for her, she spotted her mother in the crowd talking to Harald, Halfdan, and Bjorn. She took the overconfident Viking by his arm and led him towards the group. Skuld made sure to sway her behind a little bit so he would look at it instead of where she is guiding him. 

"And she said yes? I am surprised by that." Bjorn said, looking at Ylva, who chuckled at his teasing tone. 

"Oh, I was as surprised as you are. But I won't complain, it does make things easier this way. No need to worry now." She explained watching Halfdan, who stood a little to close to her for her liking. But his attention was caught by something else instead. A thin arm wrapped itself around her upper arm. 

"Mother, I was looking for you. Prince Bjorn, what an honor to meet the oldest Ragnarsson." Skuld leaned against her mother to steady herself playing it off as affection, but by the fake laugh her mother let out, she knew the truth. "Let me introduce my friend, Njord. He is certain he will become so glorious at the end of your journey that even you will envy him."

The bear-like Viking looked at the shorter redhead with one lifted eyebrow. All of Njord's earlier confidence was gone as he stood there looking like he will piss himself at any moment. He excused himself and ran off as Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald laughed. 

"Must you always terrorize the poor men, sister?" Her older brother Brandr walked towards her and pulled her off their mother's arm. He dressed up for today; he was trying to find himself a wife with no luck. He didn't like that three of his older brothers were already married. So here he stands in a red tunic with his dark hair neatly brushed.

"It's their fault if they get handsy. If I led him to Gunne, he wouldn't have any hands anymore." She said back, glaring at her annoying brother. They always patronized her because she was the youngest and the only girl. Whenever she behaved as they would, they would scold her as if she was a misbehaving child. 

"Well, then humiliation sounds better. I apologize for my warrior. He is very young and foolish, but he is a good fighter." Harald said, looking the young girl over. She took after her father, like most of Ylva's children. 

Skuld looked at the man who wants to be king of all Norway, and then her eyes trailed to his brother. She smirked at how close the man stood by her mother and looked back at Harald. "No worries. I am sure he will make excellent arrow fodder. I wish you all the luck in your journey; you will need it if you surround yourself with men like him."

Brandr rolled his eyes at her and reached for her cup. "Give it here; you have had enough!" Skuld pulled her arm back and glared at him with all her might. Which was a lot considering she is Ylva's daughter. Bloodthirst and death threats were hereditary in their family. 

"You touch my cup, and I will bash your head in with it." She hissed, making the group freeze. Ylva reached out for her daughter, who has been acting far too strange this evening only for Skuld to sidestep her. "On second thought... Take it. It is empty anyway." She trusted her cup into his chest, making him glare back her with the same amount of hate.

The auburn-haired Viking took a few steps away from them but change her mind and turned back around to look at Halfdan. "You touch my mother, and I will torture you until there is nothing left to bury." She mockingly bowed to them all before looking at her mother with a small smirk on her lips. "I am going to get some air. Goodnight for now." And then she walked away and out of the Hall. 

Skuld leaned against a wooden pillar and watched the dark city while laughter and drunken shouting echoed around her. Her head was pounding, and she wanted to scream in frustration. "Have you come to insult me again?" 

She looked over her shoulder at Ivar, who glared up at her. He crawled out of the feast to get some air, but it was just his luck to meet that rude whore again. "You are not that special woman." Skuld chuckled at his venomous words and looked back at the city, ignoring the crawling Prince behind her. She closed her eyes, trying to silence the noises in her head and taking deep breaths.

"You are to stay with us while everyone's out raiding." Ivar pointed out all of a sudden, making her chuckle. 

"I am well aware, thank you. Why do you think I am drinking. I am trying to destroy my reputation so that you will send me far away. Preferably home. And it seems I have succeeded with you." Ivar snorted at her explanation and swung his legs over the edge of the wooden floor below them. Skuld slowly sat down next to him, sighing as a cool breeze swept by them. 

"It did not work. You will stay here. Unfortunately." Ivar mocked, looking out at sea. He had a lot on his mind since his father came back. He was to leave for England with him, so luckily, he wouldn't have to spend time with the annoying girl. 

"I told my mother I would throw myself off the nearest cliff if she leaves me behind. All she said was that it is a great honor to stay under the Queen's protection. How ridiculous. No offense to your mother." Skuld spat out before collapsing back on the floor, causing Ivar to look at her as if she lost her mind. She laid on her back, her arms spread out with her feet dangling over the edge of the floor. 

"What are you doing?" Ivar asked, annoyed by her ridiculous behavior. 

"Sobering up. I am in no mood to bed someone, so instead, I am out here with you. Which does nothing good for my pride." She said, playing with a strand of her hair twirling it around her finger over and over. 

Ivar glared at her and slammed his palm down next to her face leaning over her like a snake ready to strike. "If you are so disappointed about spending time with a cripple, then go jump off that cliff. You are not wanted here anyway." He spat the words in her face making her flinch and wipe his spit off her visage with disgust. 

She looked into his stormy eyes and raised one of her perfect eyebrows at his attitude. "I meant your personality, not your affliction. Now get off me before you give me ideas, and I take you to bed."

Ivar wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed her neck, cutting off her air. Skuld gasped out softly and wrapped her smaller hand around his, yet she didn't try to pry his hand off. "That doesn't help you at all." She whispered, her eyes hooded and darker before slowly licking her pink lips. She raised both of her eyebrows at him, daring him to take the invitation and kiss her. Yet Ivar only let go of her neck and glared at her.

He crawled away, muttering underneath his breath, making her chuckle and reach out to him. She rolled over onto her stomach and called out to him. The youngest son of Ragnar looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Don't leave, my Prince. The night is still young." She seductively drawled out her breasts, nearly falling out of her dress as she raised herself onto her hands and crawled over to him on all four. 

Ivar watched her move, not breathing as the pretty girl stalked towards him, licking her lips once again. Skuld stopped when they could feel each other's breaths in their faces. She looked at his lips and then into his eyes, she smirked at the dark look in her eyes and kissed him. Ivar's hand wrapped around her throat again and pushed her away, making her whine in annoyance. "Stop it." He ordered only for her to pout.

"Stop playing around. You are so annoying yet interesting at the same time. Do you not want to bed me? Am I not your type?" She asked softly, trailing her fingertips down his neck. 

Ivar snarled and let go of her neck but didn't leave. So he was interested after all. "Go fuck somebody else."

"What if I don't want to fuck somebody else. I am not interested in those drunken fools inside, or your pestering brothers. I want you, Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok." Ivar rolled his eyes at her seductive tone, making her sign at his stubbornness. She liked the challenge, but usually, she had to fight men off, not fight for them. 

"Why? Never fucked a cripple?" Ivar mocked as Skuld sat back on her knees, watching his chest rise and fall. She shook her head and fixed her necklace and hair, so if somebody walked out, she wouldn't look too ridiculous. 

"That has nothing to do with it. I like people with sharp tongues and brains; you aren't the silent type, and I don't think you are stupid either. Otherwise, I would be naked already. So what about me is putting you off? I will not pressure you anymore; I am just curious." Skuld explained her auburn hair falling over her shoulder as she trailed her finger up and down the floorboards. 

"You are annoying; that's why." Yet his eyes betrayed him. He was looking at her cleavage, and his fists were clenched in anger. 

"You are nervous."

"I am never nervous."

"Is it your first time?" Skuld questioned her head tilted to the side, trying to find out why the boy before her kept resisting her even though he wanted to sleep with her. She wouldn't force him if he didn't want to, but she was curious why he fought her so much when he kissed her like a starving man before he pushed her off.

"It is not my first time." Ivar spat back his nails, digging into his palms. He snatched her wrist and yanked her towards himself. Skuld crashed against his chest, but he steadied her by putting his arm around her waist and kissing her once again. 

When they pulled back, Skuld looked deeply into his eyes and softly chuckled. "If it's not your first time, then why are you nervous?"

Ivar ignored her question and kissed her again, his arm around her waist tightening painfully. Skuld put her hands on his shoulders and drew his closer before she pulled away to catch air. "I am not going to fuck you here. So either move or let go." 

Ivar let her go and led her to his chambers. The wooden door closed behind her as the fire in his room burned brightly, ridding her of the coldness she felt before. Ivar climbed on his bed, looking uncertain. But when he opened his mouth to tell her something, he was met with her naked frame, her dress around her ankles.

Skuld slowly walked to him, but when she saw the wavering confidence, she stopped her advances. "You sure you want to? I won't say anything if you say no." Ivar swallowed but put his hand on her hip and caressed the smooth skin there. 

"I did try before. But it didn't work. " He explained, reminding her of somebody who confessed to breaking something. She smiled at him and kneeled before him. She put his face between her hands and looked deep into his eyes. 

"We can try if you want to. Maybe she wasn't that pretty, or you were too nervous. If you don't want to, we can stop. I could leave, or we can just talk instead. Your choice, Ivar." The Viking looked at her face before bringing her into another kiss. He stroked Skuld's skin roughly, which made her moan. The moans were exaggerated as his hands were a little bit too rough and inexperienced for her taste. Yet the sounds of pleasure gave Ivar more confidence, which made Skuld happier. 

He kissed her neck as she trailed her hands over his hands that stroked her sides. She pushed them towards her breasts instead, hoping he would get the hint, which he did. Suddenly he pulled away snarling in frustration. He took off his gloves that protect his hands from the ground when he crawls. Skuld kissed his neck while he fondled her breasts in fascination, all of a sudden, she didn't have to fake her pleasure. 

She rubbed her crotch against his, hoping to feel him get hard, yet nothing happened. She frowned at that and tried a different approach. She bit the spot where the shoulder meets the neck, yet all it got from him was a growl and a harder grope. Skuld trailed her hand down his stomach and took off his tunic. She then ghosted her fingers over his skin, goosebumps following her. The auburn-haired Viking kissed, licked, and bit his neck while she massaged his tense shoulders. 

Short gasps and breathy moans left Ivar's lips, while he focused on touching Skuld. He knew what she was trying to do, and the fact that his cock was still soft angered him. It's like with Margrethe all over. Yet Skuld didn't give up. 

"You want to know why I wanted to bed you?" Skuld whispered into his ear, her voice breathy. Ivar swallowed hard and softly nodded as the bit his earlobe. "Your face. Those piercing eyes, that jaw those lips and gods your hands." 

She kept whispering and moaning into his ear, flattering him with every word. He liked the sound of her voice like this, the seductive tone laced with pleasure and need. Ivar especially liked the meaning behind her words, no jests or mean words, only things that made his chest swell in pride. 

Skuld ground her crotch harder against him and smirked when she felt him harder. "I have met many men, but none like you. I see your future, Ivar Lothbrok. You are to be a significant man, loved by many, and feared by more. You are a legend in the making. Not because of your father, but because of yourself. No one will ever forget you."

Ivar gasped and froze when he felt himself grow hard he pulled her back by the hair, as Skuld moaned at the roughness. He looked into her eyes in awe, yet the girl only smiled at him. "What's wrong, my Prince? Are you not enjoying yourself?" She teased before he kissed her again. She lowered his breeches with his help and sunk down on him. Ivar froze at the tight heat around him while Skuld whined into his ear, praising his size and grith. 

The auburn-haired female braced herself against his shoulders and moved on top of him, biting and sucking on his neck. Ivar gripped her hips in a bruising grip, but Skuld said nothing about it. She would have to lay off bedding anyone for a while. 

Again she pulled away from his neck and looked him in the eyes; they were hooded with pleasure as his lips trembled in need. Skuld liked the look on him; it was a nice change to the earlier anger and arrogance. Suddenly he wrapped his hand around her throat, making her moan out loud and tighten on him. When Ivar lost his concentration, did she cover her small hand around his throat too and looks him in the eyes. She pressed her thumb against his artery and smirked. "Like that, I don't want to die tonight." 

Ivar fixed his grip on her neck as she advised, he trusted against her movements while she clung to his shoulders as he finished before her. Yet Skuld followed soon after when he tightened his grip on her neck. They collapsed against the furs of his bed, both breathing heavily with blissed-out expressions on their faces. 

"See. I was right; she wasn't good enough." Skuld teased, rolling off him and ready to leave the bed. But Ivar's hand on her wrist and his pleading look made her stop. She sighed and laid down next to him, pressing his face against her chest and stroking his arm. Ivar relaxed in her embrace and breathed in her pleasant scent of flowers and sweat. 

"Then, I suppose it's a good thing you didn't bed her instead," Ivar mentioned as Skuld chuckled at his jealousy. 

"I suppose you are right. Lucky me. Or you?" She teased, wrapping her leg around his, but Ivar hitched her limb higher so she wouldn't feel his thighs against hers. Skuld didn't mention that she did feel them when she was on top of him, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

"Do you always bed strangers while drunk?" Ivar asked, not meaning it in a wrong way. He wanted to know if he was one in many or special.  

Skuld drew runes on his arms as she thought enjoyed the calm atmosphere around them. "Sometimes. Sometimes women, sometimes men, sometimes both if I am feeling adventurous."

Ivar paused at her carefree tone, rolled off of her, and looked at the smirking female. "So, you really bed women?" Skuld stopped her ministrations and propped her head against her head as she laid on her side. 

"Of course. Who knows a girl better than a girl? Or a man knows a man." She explained, smugly recalling her first experience with a woman—the little daughter of a farmer with doe eyes and short hair. 

"That's stupid. A man with a man is stupid." Ivar spat, making Skuld look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"How come when a woman beds a woman, it's sexy and exciting. But a man beds another man, it's wrong. What are you a Christian? My brother bedded a Christian man once. He said their God didn't like that." Skuld argued the lightheartedness from her voice gone. She could take a lot, but a jab at her family was unforgivable. The only one who could do that was her. 

"Your brother beds men? Then he is not a real man. What pleasure is there is taking it up the arse like an animal?" Ivar hissed at her, glaring at the annoying girl that would live with them for a while. Yet Skuld didn't flinch at his anger. All she did was frown at him with her lips in a tight line as her blue eyes grew cold like the fjords. 

"How could you judge if you didn't try it? They both seemed happy, so why should it be wrong? Haldor beds men because he enjoys them. Nothing wrong with that. You enjoy women; some enjoy both, some neither. Don't be so narrow-minded, Ivar. Women had been some of the best fucks I ever had. So heed your word." Skuld hissed back and rolled over the bed, ready to leave again. "The people of Yugar don't care who fucks who as long as you don't throw it into their faces. And we are just an Earldom, how come the greatest trading city in all Scandinavia is so ignorant?"

Ivar rolled his eyes at her rant and glared at her naked back. "You are not allowed to leave." He ordered seeing her slip her dress back on. Skuld looked at the seething Viking with a teasing smile on her lips and kneeled on the bed before him. She crawled towards him on all four and boxed him between her arms, with her breasts pressed against his chest. 

"I don't like being ordered around. Neither do you. So do us both a favor and be quiet. And I will lay back down and stay a little bit longer. What do you say, my Prince?" Ivar looked into her in awe and slowly nodded, his mind fogged over with her tempting words. And so Skuld laid down next to him, hiding her pleased expression behind her locks of hair as she laid her head on his chest. 

[hecohansen31]

Tinder date anon here (again!): write more please!

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Ahhh can you believe that a few days ago I literally went like ‘I need to write something christmass-y for Ivar’, and then I wrote it and then you asked… so… this is low key creepily magical!

But on a more serious note, my period has started (TMI), so if you want anything with Ivar, because that is my actual mood, I am more than happy to write and in the meanwhile I hope you’ll like this little babe!

Have a nice day!

WARNINGS: Family Drama, Abandonment Issues, Problematics Relatives, Talk of Medical Problems and Family at Christmas In General (also I know… I am the only person who can write Christmas fic… AFTER CHRISTMAS).

You hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly.

But when Ivar had asked you to come to meet his family for Christmas’ Eve dinner, you hadn’t been able to reject the proposal, mostly when you, yourself, had no plans for it…

… and you would have loved nothing more than to spend it with your boyfriend.

So, it was all settled, although you had had to rush all your gifts for his bothers and his parents, since he had let you know about the proposal only a week before Christmas.

‘I didn’t want to seem like an obsessed kind of type…’ he had mumbled, once you had asked the reason behind his timing ‘… I didn’t want you to feel rushed’.

Well you certainly weren’t feeling rushed for that, but it didn’t mean that you weren’t feeling less anxious about meeting Ivar’s big family, although you already knew Hvitserk, who was fine and nice, once you understood how to take him.

(And to ignore the condoms laying around all over his and Ivar’s shared house, which had come quite handy a few times).

‘… well then you have seen the worst of us’ had mumbled Ivar, after you had asked him to prepare you for what you were going to have to deal with ‘… Ubbe is nice, if you ignore the fact that he is annoying as hell and that his wife is a bitch, Sigurd is a bitch, but he is not a threat, and Bjorn won’t probably come…’.

The fact was that you weren’t exactly worried by Ivar’s brothers.

Who truly worried you was Aslaugh, Ivar’s beloved mother.

If you were Ivar’s love, Aslaugh had been his first love and you could see with the way he constantly talked about her, valuing her opinion as if it was the Law which both irritated you and made you anxious about her opinion of you.

Would she consider you not enough for his son?

And what would Ivar do in that case?

Would he discard you without a second thought or would he dare to go against his beloved mother’s opinion?

You had tried to push any of those thoughts down, but the day you had  had to get ready to reach Ivar’s childhood house, they all came back to you and you tried not to panic hard in front of Ivar and Hvitserk, who were the calmest, even going as far as joking around, rather brotherly.

And you were tying not to throw up, in the car.

When you finally arrived, you tried to focus on the luggage that needed to be brought inside, helping Hvitserk, meanwhile Ivar insisted he could get also something.

‘You are wearing heels, woman, for Odin’s sake!’ he swore, looking at your polished booties, which you had worn to try to impress Asluagh with a classier look, having stalked her profile on Instagram to try to match her style, in order to impress her.

‘I can handle, sweetie’ your tone was sickly sweet, and Ivar sent you a confused look, before he turned around, giving up on his mission and going to knock on the polished door of the beautiful manor.

Although Hvitserk and Ivar referred to it as a simple ‘house’, for you it was a manor, with a perfect garden and even a swimming pool, which Hvitserk had suggested you used for the traditional ‘Lothbrock Christmas Swimming’, on Christmas morning.

You followed Ivar a few minutes later, with your backpack on your shoulder, carrying two suitcases (yours and Ivar, trying not to swirl and fall onto the iced surface, since all around the manor there was snow, in a beautiful winter-y atmosphere that looked like it was brought out of a winter legend.

It wasn’t Asluagh that opened the door, but an elderly man, although he looked as handsome as he had been in his earliest years, but his age was evident, alongside the wolfish grin he held, taking you in, although surprise quickly blossomed in your eyes as Ivar’s hand tangled with yours.

Your boyfriend, also, seemed surprised by the vision and it was Hvitserk who made the man known also to you, gently saluting him:

“Hey dad!” he muttered, quickly hugging him, as he dragged himself and the rest of the luggage inside, leaving you and Ivar blinking for the surprise “… didn’t know you would be there”.

And apparently didn’t Ivar, who after a first moment of holding his eternal grudge, moved in, bringing you alongside him, grabbing ahold of his luggage, trying to avoid with expertise his father, who still managed to catch him.

And more importantly: you caught his attention.

“Hello there, Ivar!” mumbled his father, once he got away from Hivtserk’s hug, who soon moved away towards what you thought was the kitchen “… and you brought a little friend”.

You didn’t know much about Ivar’s father: he had abandoned his family after Ivar’s birth. but he had still tried to be present in his sons’ lives.

At least economically.

“… dad, I thought you were dead” mumbled Ivar, no sarcastic tone his voice, and Ragnar quickly realized that he wasn’t welcome there, as his son quickly sprinted away, suggesting he was tired and would bring the suitcases to his room, on the first floor.

Leaving you with a rather sad Ragnar.

“He is just tired, he tends to get grumpy when he is tired” you tried to justify the situation, not even knowing why you were trying, but feeling a bit bad for the man: he wouldn’t have won best father of the year, but he had showed up “… I mean he is constantly grumpy…”.

“That’s the Ivar I know!” smirked Ragnar, softly as if he was remembering sweeter times, before gently offering his big hand to you “… I am Ragnar by the way, Ivar’s asshole dad”.

“I am (Y/N)” you mumbled, accepting the hand graciously “… Ivar’s…”.

“Oh you must be (Y/N)” a chirping voice exited the kitchen and a blonde girl a bit older than you appeared with an older woman that you recognized as Aslaugh: they both looked like they came from a cookie batch competition, but Aslaugh managed to seem regal even covered head-to-toe in flour.

She looked at your cryptically and for a minute.

You were wondering whether she was analyzing each flaw she could find, but then she gently smiled at you.

“Poor (Y/N)” she mumbled, pushing Margrethe, the blonde girl, which you had recognized as Ubbe’s wife a bit away from you“… five minutes she is in here, and she already gets stalked like an animal… I am sorry for my husband and son’s behavior, mostly Ivar’s, he should know better than to leave a woman, alone…”.

Ragnar found this as his cue to move away, sending you one last smirk at you, as if he knew all too well that you were going to go through a lot

“He was a bit tired and said he would have gone to his room to lay down” you suggested trying to shift the conversation away from you, having received more attention than you had hoped for, since Margrethe also kept on looking at you, definitely trying to find any weak point you owned.

“Still… he knows better than to come here, without at least letting his poor mother that he is still alive” she mumbled, huffing annoyed, although you could detect a bit of worry in her tone “… I also am rather sorry for not properly presenting myself to you: I am Aslaugh, Ivar’s mother… I hoped he told you this at least, and I would gladly hold your hand, but… I have flour in places I didn’t know flour could get…”.

You laughed, a bit relieved that Aslaugh was this fun and gently nodded, before you showed her the direction, Ivar had gone to, although you felt like she already knew, getting Margrethe to grab your coat and show you the wardrobe where you could store that.

‘I’ll check on my son a few minutes and then we can meet in the kitchen for a few cookies, hoping Hivtserk hasn’t eaten all of them, in the meantime, you and Margrethe can have a good talk over tea’.

You doubted you could have a ‘meaningful’ conversation with Margrethe, although you’d have to admit that you were used to ‘small talk’ having had to deal with Elaine all your college and work life, but you still didn’t like it, in the slightest.

Also, with the ‘totally weirded-out’ look she kept on sending your way, you didn’t feel in the slightest at ease with her, although you could understand why.

Ivar had confessed you that one of the reason why he didn’t feel comfortable having sex, was that once he had tried to hit it off with Margrethe (‘I was young and stupid and all my brothers had had their own experiences with women… it made me feel… self-conscious’) and he hadn’t been able to ‘raise up to the occasion’.

And Margrethe had laughed at him, taunting him enough that sex for him had been a rather taboo topic and only lately he had been more open even getting some control visit to see if it was truly some kind physiological problematics or simply psychological.

So, you understood that the blonde girl was trying to understand what you were staying with Ivar for.

“Oh Gosh, we weren’t certainly expecting you” her voice was slightly noisy and you couldn’t help but feel like it had some haughty tone that made you feel even more at unease and were secretly thankful that Aslaugh quickly reappeared.

“… but I am definitely glad that you are here, (Y/N)” her tone held an immediate warmness that you couldn’t help but appreciate, feeling more at ease, as she joined you on the table you had set down onto, before she quickly grabbed from an ‘hidden location’, as she called it, a jar of cookies “… and my son will join us shortly, I gave him quite my piece of mind about not leaving his pretty girl all alone, I was once also all alone in some stranger’s house, so I know it can be intimidating”.

You dared a shy smile at her, meanwhile Margrethe applied onto her face a smile of circumstance.

“Thank you, I truly appreciate it, but I stopped trying to get Ivar to do what I want… he will… eventually” you joked and Aslaugh laughed lightly, before adding.

“He was also a stubborn child” and then her eyes grew a bit sadder, a memory flashing in them “… he had to be, because… of how he was born”.

“… it never stopped him from doing what he wanted” you reassured Aslaugh and she sent a small smile at you, gripping your hand.

The sudden gesture made you flush lightly and you were happy when Ivar appeared on the kitchen threshold, quickly setting himself between you and Aslaugh, donning both you and his mother with a quick kiss onto your cheeks.

“Oh cookies…” he mumbled, trying to grab some from the jar, but Aslaugh slapped off his hand “… ouch… mom!”.

“Cookies are for people who don’t leave their girlfriends all alone” she mumbled, and you smirked a bit, meanwhile Ivar just flushed and pushed himself a bit closer to you, something which didn’t go unnoticed to the other women in the room.

The cookies didn’t go unnoticed so long to Hvitserk, who walked in the kitchen fascinated by the smell of freshly baked cookies, fighting with Margrethe for cookies, meanwhile you slipped one of yours to Ivar, who kissed your hand in a gentleman way to thank you.

“Sorry for having left you there…” he whispered softly into your ear “… I just wasn’t expecting him to be here”.

You simply patted one of his hand, before dragging him closer, in an almost kiss.

“… just don’t do it again” and then pushed him lightly away from you, making him giggle, and he managed to set a little kiss on your forehead.

“… cross my heart and hope to die” he whispered back, softly kissing your cheek, meanwhile Margrethe looked at you half disgusted and half weirded out “… do you think that Margrethe has something stuck in her eyes?”.

“Only her dignity” you mumbled, gaining an immediate smirk by Ivar, as Hvitserk joined your side, hoping to gain some cookies, with his puppy eyes, but he didn’t get none, moving onto trying to plead Aslaugh, who eventually relented.

“… oh, by the way, where are Ubbe and Sigurd?” asked Hvitserk, mouth half full of cookies, probably to know if he should just rush in eating the rest of the cookies before they came back from wherever they had gone, or if he could consume them more calmly.

“They went out grocery shopping, for a few missing things for the dinner” which low key surprised you since Aslaugh didn’t seem the type who missed anything for her ‘perfect dinner’ and soon Ivar solved the enigma.

“… they went to get dad a Christmas present, didn’t they?”.

Aslaugh nodded darkly, before some softness washed over her face.

“He just came here a few days ago, saying that old age is making him value what truly matter and what doesn’t”.

“It never seemed to stop him before” muttered darkly Ivar, gaining an annoyed look by Aslaugh “… oh c’mon, mom, you certainly can’t be happy to see him here, he left you! For another woman!”.

“I am certainly not happy to have him, here” her tone was stone cold, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were an outside to all this drama “… but I still have to recognize that he is your father, and he still deserves to see you and make peace with you, before it’s too late”.

Something broke in Ivar’s eyes and he relented in the word-fight with Aslaugh, meanwhile Hvitserk stopped eating his beloved cookies, probably understanding the graveness of the situation.

“… I still… it is strange…” mumbled Ivar.

“Well, then get used to strangeness because he is going to stick around at least till tomorrow morning” Aslaugh now donned her motherly tone and Ivar didn’t seem to have any intention to disobey her, meanwhile Hvitserk stood on his toe a bit more upright “… and now won’t you help me setting up dinner?”.

—

You couldn’t help but feel definitely inexperienced about dinners once Aslaugh got everything ready for the night, mostly because she made it seem so easily, as it it wasn’t something that came from experience or such.

Margrethe was quickly able to follow her commands, meanwhile you were extremely clueless and were glad for Hvitserk and Ivar’s back up in the kitchen, since they had also been put to use (‘I didn’t raise my sons to be some annoying sofa-warmers’ had mumbled Aslaugh, ordering them to get ready the vegetables).

But what made the experience even more nerve-wracking was the constant chit-chat going on between you and Aslaugh, which seemed harmless, but again… you didn’t want to fail her interrogation.

She asked a few personal questions of circumstance, asking whether you were still in college or working, and what you did, if you liked it or were aiming for something more., probably trying to sound out whether you were a gold digger or not.

Then she pushed the themes onto your and Ivar’s relationship, involving also her son in the questions: how long they had been together for, how they had met (Hvitserk bumped in this question, explaining the entire ‘tinder date’ thing, gaining quite the annoyed look by Aslaugh) and if you felt well together.

“Aren’t three months a bit too little for meeting the family?” asked naively Margrethe, the tone calm only onto the surface, under it, there was some kind of intent to break her apart to see what was going down, behind closed door.

“Ahem… yes…” you honestly wanted to reply that it was ‘none of her business’, and it was what Ivar’s face said, but you thought ‘kill her with kindness’ “… but I felt like I was personally ready for it, and Ivar didn’t make me feel rushed into this, so I think that timing only counts when you feel like it”.

Margrethe looked like she had been smacked, meanwhile Aslaugh gave you a soft smile.

“Ah, you are completely right, (Y/N)!” she smirked, before moving her examining glance to Margrethe “… also weren’t you and Ubbe already ‘dating’ a few weeks after having met, and with ‘dating’ I meant that you were coming over here, and acting like you owned the place”.

That seemed to shush her for quite a bit, for which you were thankful, because it made the conversation more lighthearted.

Finally, at 5 p.m. the two wandering brothers came home, bringing some grocery bags, meanwhile they hid badly a bag form a jewelry store, as they passed a horrendous Christmas card with a sloth to Ivar and Hvitserk to sign it.

And meanwhile this happened, they presented themselves to you: Ubbe in a more heartwarmingly way, even going as far as to hug you, meanwhile Sigurd simply gripped your hand in a loose shake, looking at you as if he had a unicorn in front of him.

And then they moved onto their brothers, giving a similar treatment as they had done with you, with Ubbe hugging warmly his brothers, before he moved onto kissing softly Margrethe and you almost shipped them, then and there.

Meanwhile also Sigurd hugged Hvitserk, he simply acknowledged Ivar, with a look of hostility in his eyes.

“… we weren’t expecting you to bring her, here” he muttered, more a whisper than actually anything, not wanting to be heard by you and Aslaugh, who was looking through the groceries “… we all thought she was some kind of fake joke…”.

Before Ivar could kill him, you gently pushed him back, suggesting you went to change for the dinner, gaining a little nod of approval by Aslaugh, who suggested that she brought you both the towels and something to wear.

You didn’t know what she meant with ‘something to wear’ but simply nodded, pushing Ivar away from the kitchen and Sigurd.

As you were under closed doors, and you had actually smashed your face against Ivar’s fluffy comforter, thankful for a few minutes alone with your mind, before Ivar smashed against you, making you let out a loud ‘ouch’ and him a laugh, as he kissed onto your neck to ease the pain.

You moved to face him and kiss him, gently, feeling him melt against you and you gently smashed your finger into his hair, getting a low moan from his chest.

“… we are making out like two teenagers, and we are even in your childhood room” you joked meanwhile he started nibling onto your neck, his way of releasing stress from Sigurd’s affirmation was to worship your body, getting lost in it.

“You are the first one” he blushed, shyly, his inexperience always surprising you, even more when he would kiss you like that.

“Am I not lucky?” you giggled softly, pushing him softly away, to get a look at your luggage, in order to decide what to wear, meanwhile Ivar got himself in the shower, as you told him to shout if he needed any help “… also what was your mother meaning with ‘sending us some clothes for dinner’”.

“Oh, mom is probably going to lend you some clothes, nothing on your fashion style, but she has her own clothing etiquette for Christmas Eve dinner…” he shouted from the shower, before water poured over his voice.

Although it was obvious that Aslaugh didn’t mean it badly, the clothing thing still made you feel a bit at unease, both for the lending and both for the clothing and as you were in the shower, you heard Ubbe walking in the room and quickly exchanging a few words with Ivar.

And when you walked in, Ivar was already in his expensive suit, and your elegant burgundy dress was waiting for you: it was rather conservative and definitely a bit different from what you were expecting.

“Is this your mother? Or does she buy new clothes for your girlfriends’ each year?” you mumbled “… because I don’t know which is creepier”:

“They are some of her oldest dresses, and she adapts the one she doesn’t use whether for charity or friends” Ivar explained to you, meanwhile he helped you adjust the dress, pushing the zip up, meanwhile he laid one last soft kiss at your neck.

“Is there something that your mom can’t do?” you mumbled a bit worried that you couldn’t ever be half as amazing as her.

“Stop us from screaming at each other, each dinner” he joked, before he made you turn to him and look at him “… and you shouldn’t compare yourself to her: I know that you are fucking nervous, but you are the most perfect thing that has ever happened to me, whether my mom approves or not”.

“I am still…” you mumbled, lowering your eyes, just for Ivar to push them up.

“You are perfect, never ever fucking forget that” and then he entangled your elbows together “… now let’s go to eat, hoping Hvitserk hasn’t eaten everything”.

You giggled and dragged your handsome man by his tie, meanwhile he smirked at you.

Once you were down the only thing that had stopped Hvitserk from eating anything on the table was the fact that Aslaugh was looking at him like she would straight up disown him had he through about eating anything, before everyone was down there.

After you and Ivar, followed Ubbe and Margrethe who had changed in a stunning icy blue dress, that highlighted her delightful completion and her pretty eyes: you were almost jealous, hadn’t Ivar sent her the same look he had given in the lamp, illuminating the stairs.

Last but not least came Ragnar, who just looked around curiously, probably checking his sons’ reactions to his presence, smirking softly at each of them, trying to avoid the pure hate glares he received and you couldn’t help but pity him a tiny bit.

As you settled down you were sat on Ivar’s right, meanwhile Aslaugh set up on his left and Ragnar onto your left, and in front of you there was Sigurd, on his left Hvitserk and on his right Margrethe and Ubbe.

It all started with a little appetizer, alongside wine, for which you were grateful, because the situation was kind of awkward: Ivar kept on looking at Ragnar, as did Aslaugh, but whereas she was more checking whether he was still there or not, Ivar was sending him his constant reminder that he wasn’t welcomed.

As did Ubbe and Sigurd.

Hvitserk was too bothered by sniffling the appetizers, meanwhile Margrethe had set herself up on the most distant place of the table to avoid the drama, which was a smarter move than you would have thought from someone like her.

In all this you tried to keep polite conversation between your two in-laws, not wanting to get on their nerves.

Ragnar mostly seemed interested into knowing details of your relationship, as a proud father would, sending rather shiny grins over at Ivar as if to say “that’s my boy”, meanwhile Aslaugh tried to keep the conversation also on you, asking your interests and hobbies and suddenly your worst nightmare had become true.

You were the center of attention.

And you were secretly thankful when Aslaugh had to take a bit of a break to gather the first dish, bringing alongside Ragnar, asking for his help with bringing the plates and you were already full but were thankful for the distraction that broke the main conversation in different smaller groups.

You risked spitting out all your wine, when Sigurd talked next, staring blatantly at you.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore we all know that the only way Ivar can land a girl like you is through money”.

“Excuse me” you shot back, pushing your glass of wine down, because you were quite sure that you would have certainly splashed Sigurd with it “… I don’t think I heard what you said quite right”.

“You either are doing it for money or for pity, I am sure” he mumbled back and, you were extremely thankful that you had put down your glass.

“I am sorry but that is none of your business first of all” you mumbled, meanwhile Ubbe tried to stop Ivar from getting up “… and second of all, you might not see it, but Ivar has qualities and I am with him for that, not for money or pity”.

“Oh, you’d be the first one to like Ivar because of his personality” mumbled Sigurd, his tone sarcastic and your tone immediately matched his, in your reply.

“At least he has one, unlike someone else” and with a roll of your eyes you sent him a look that meant that that ‘someone’ was him.

Silence fell down upon the table, but you felt Ivar’s hand gently push itself onto your thigh in an attempt to calm you down, but you were far too gone and turned to him, kissing him on the lips furiously.

You weren’t the expressive couple in the slightest, both you and Ivar taking PDA to a bare minimum, although you would always have your hands on each other, in a subtle and elegant way.

But you just felt like in that moment it was the right thing to do, and as soon as Ivar’s plush lips were onto yours, you were very much in heaven and only separated at a slow clapping of hands, found Ragnar looking at you even more fatherly-proud.

Ivar quickly hid his head into the crook of your neck and you were almost thankful when Aslaugh walked in bringing the first dish, completely disrupting the attention from you and Ivar, although you still felt Sigurd’s eyes following you, meanwhile Margrethe blushed, hiding her gaze behind her hands.

“… what did I miss?” asked Alsaugh, noticing the strange silence.

Hvitserk was halfway through opening his mouth full of food to answer, when Ivar kicked his knee under the table effectively shushing him.

“Nothing mom” mumbled Ubbe.

You were able to continue the dinner without a hitch, although you still felt self-conscious about your ‘excessive’ reaction to Sigurd’s provocation, but Ivar was smirking as brightly as the sun, staring all victoriously at Sigurd, meanwhile he twirled a knife in his hands.

The conversation helped you a bit, since it quickly shuffled onto more ordinary stuff and you were more than grateful to be chosen to be the one who had to help Aslaugh in the kitchen.

And she immediately noticed it.

“Ahh, my boys can be quite ‘too much’, sometimes” she mumbled, taking a huge gulp of wine “… and when Ragnar is with them, it is even worse”.

“I am sure that everything is alright” you mumbled, taking your own gulp of wine, meanwhile Aslaugh got the meat out of the oven, as you brought some plates where she could put it once it was cute “… and I honestly feel almost bad for Ragnar…”.

“I don’t want to risk on sounding like a vengeful woman: but it’s what he deserves for running away for all these years” although Aslaugh was trying to keep her tone calm and posed like she always did, there was some rage beneath it, and you just retired yourself back, helping her bring out the dishes.

The dinner continued calmly, and then once you had all washed the plates and collected the tablecloth to scroll it down for the crumbs, effectively moping them away meanwhile the boys helped set up the fire in the chimney, you all came around it to share your gifts.

The first ones to receive them were Aslaugh and Ragnar: all the boys had teamed up at least for the gifts, choosing a beautiful pendant in glass for Aslaugh, which looked like it was handmade, resembling a rose.

Ragnar instead received the jewelry bag, you had seen that afternoon and seemed more than delighted just at the appearance of the bag, as if he hadn’t expected the gift, being even more surprised as it turned out as a pretty watch, expensive from the little golden inserts.

He looked like he was about to cry at the thoughtful gifts and received a few small smiles by his older sons, meanwhile both Sigurd and Ivar kept themselves indifferent, although you felt Ivar gripping gently your hand a bit tighter, excited to see his father happy, although he didn’t want to let him see his happiness.

He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Then the boys passed to share their gifts with each other.

You and Ivar had chosen together the gifts, dividing the brothers, you would take Sigurd and Hvitserk (since it was impossible to hide something from that idiot) and Ivar would take Ubbe and Margrethe.

In the end you had gone with two tickets for Hvitserk’s favorite soccer team and a little music playbook for Sigurd, which you had embellished with some music sheet you had found online, as a way to let the playbook feel more familiar (you almost thought he didn’t deserve it for the stuff he had pulled at dinner).

Meanwhile Ivar had chosen a two-days-trip to one luxurious spa, which seemed to please Margrethe, who wasn’t certainly expecting this, from Ivar.

You were also surprised to receive gifts, because your presence had been announced much later: Ubbe and Margrethe gifted you two pair of golden earrings shaped as stars and Hvitserk gave you and Ivar a ‘tasting experience’ for a luxurious restaurant (although you were well aware that his first option had been a ‘vibrator’, but Ivar had literally threatened to change the locks of their shared house, had he chosen that gift).

Even Sigurd gifted you of a little something: a beaded headband, elegant and classy, matching your style.

You were surprised but hastily took it, even trying it on, as Ivar complimented the look, sending a slightly softer look at his brother, who blushed, his eyes speaking of unspoken apologies.

And even more weirdly, both Aslaugh and Ragnar had a gift for you: the latter one gave you a pretty flower vintage dress, this time, completely new and suiting you perfectly, a famous brand in the little label.

‘Oh, I don’t know if I got the measurements right! If you ever need to chan…’ and you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from hugging the woman, almost immediately regretting the decision till she hugged you back.

Ragnar’s gift was instead for you both: a trip to England, in one of his lofts (at which Ivar huffed in an annoyance, but you thanked your father-in-law, since you had always wished to visit England again).

Many more gifts were exchanged, and the things got a bit out of hand as also Floki and Helga joined the night, and you were swept off the floor as Floki brought you in a bone-crushing hug, meanwhile Helga giggled softly.

Although you were happy, and Ivar was literally the most at ease you had ever seen him, you had to retire a bit outside, in order to calm yourself down, with the excuse for a toilet break, from anyone.

Ivar followed you, gaining the wolf-whistles of his brothers, who joked about ‘what you truly were going to do in that bathroom’.

You went out, Ivar donning his coat onto your shoulder, since you had forgotten about it, a bit too warmed by the niceness of this new family.

“I am sorry if it was a bit too much” mumbled softly Ivar, gently getting a few sweaty strands away from your face, meanwhile you shook your head.

“No no, it was perfect” and softly kissed his face, meanwhile he scrunched his nose, faking that he didn’t like your affection “… I just… they are low key all so… welcoming”.

“It went better than I expected” he mumbled, meanwhile you adjusted your hair “… with you by my side, everything is better”.

“Flatterer” you mumbled, and made to go back inside, knowing that Ivar couldn’t handle the cold for long, but then he stopped you and got something out of his pocket, a small box.

Breath got stuck in your lungs, but Ivar quickly reassured you.

“It isn’t what you think I swear, but I felt like I just had to get you another little thing for Christmas…” you were a bit at loss of words: you had made a deal about getting a simple gift for each other for Christmas, since you didn’t want to disappoint the other “… oh c’mon! I know that you got me that Viking book, other than the beautiful tie”.

You blushed being caught red-handed, but still didn’t do anything else.

“You didn’t have to get me…” you mumbled, but Ivar shut you up with a slightly angered look.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore, I am low key anxious that you won’t like it!”.

And you finally opened the box to reveal a little necklace with a ladybug on it, Ivar’s silly nickname for you, because according to him ‘you were his lucky-charm’.

You sighed a bit at the prettiness of the golden beauty, before Ivar suggested to help you put it on, and he adjusted it, gently giving a soft kiss to the back of your neck, as he slipped another bigger present from one of the pocket of your coat, making you send him an exasperated look.

“Oh, c’mon! This one is for us both!” he mumbled, blushing distinctively the reddest you had ever seen, as you revealed under the elegant box a simple set of burgundy lingerie.

“Is this a sign that you want to try?” you tried to be the most delicate possible with your words.

And Ivar grabbed softly your hand, pushing up to kiss your lips again.

“… didn’t I tell you? You are my lucky-charm, little ladybug!”.

[ravensinwinter]

The Raven in Winter- Chapter One

Summary: On the eve of her wedding, a familiar face arrives in Fornburg alongside two strangers, bringing with them a chance at adventure. When Sigrid reluctantly follows her husband to England and learns of the sinister forces that hunt him, she is thrust into a dangerous plot to control England. Will she and Eivor be able to unravel the web of mystery that surrounds their new home? Or are they destined to choke under the rule of the Order of the Ancients?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665312/chapters/67698373

This tale will span the events of the game and beyond as Sigrid and Eivor's journey unfolds.

Pairing: Original Female Character x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Quick couple of things! ástin mín/elskan mín roughly translate as my dearest/my darling. Basically Viking pet names! The six witness tradition in a Viking wedding means that a minimum of six people from both families must witness the newlyweds in their marriage bed. (Yikes!) If any of my translations or phrases don’t make sense, please let me know. I’m using the Icelandic translations as that’s the closest you can get to original Norse.

Also, for this story, and in my game, Eivor has dark hair. (Give me unbound viking hair options, Ubisoft, you absolute coward!)

Longships! The cry startled me from my weaving, small fingers catching in the loom. I pulled them back with a sharp curse and a hiss of pain, shoving the digits into my mouth to soothe the ache blossoming there. Hlif answered with a disapproving glare and I quickly withdrew my fingers with an audible pop.

Beside me, Randvi gently set down her weaving with a sigh. I cast a cautious glance toward the other woman, failing to gauge her reaction to the news through her usual stoic mask. I often envied her ability to mask her emotions, though it was easy enough to spot the toll two years of separation had taken on her. I could see it now in the way her fingers gripped the cloth in her lap too tightly. “Do you think Sigurd has returned,” I asked sitting taller on the bench to stare through the window at the growing crowd near the docks.

“I would sooner think that it is Eivor slinking home at last,” Randvi answered, and I found myself nodding in agreement as I cast one last glance towards the window. Eivor had been gone nearly two months now, absconding in the night with a longship against our Uncle’s instruction.

I had awoken on the night he left to find him perched in the window of my small bedroom, the dying light of the fire casting him in a soft glow. He had looked much like Odin in that moment, straight from the stories Hlif had told to us as children.

“Siggy? Are you awake?” He had whispered so softly the sound was nearly lost of the soft crackling of burning logs.

“Eivor?” I blinked owlishly up at him, fingers pulling the thick furs to my chin to cover my thin shift. “What are you doing?” Eivor quietly slipped into my room, his thick boots surprisingly quiet as he crossed to sit beside me.

“Saying goodbye,” he answered, body warm as lay beside me. It was an act he had not done since we were children. I tensed at the feel of his thick arm heavy about my waist.  “Your uncle means to remain in Fornburg until Sigurd returns. I am taking a longship to raid.” It was an old argument, one that had resulted in a shouting match that evening, the likes of which would have made the gods jealous at the thunder it produced.

“But, Uncle said…” Eivor silenced me with a soft jab of his elbow to my side. “You mean to go anyway?”

Eivor did not answer.

“Take me with you,” I blurted out, turning to face him. I could barely make out his features in the soft firelight, but by the way his brow furrowed at my words, I could tell he was not pleased.

“Do you remember when you came to Fornburg? A little girl who had lost both her parents?” His hand on my waist was gentle as he pressed me back onto my side, his body slotting against mine.

I hummed in agreement, settling back against him. Eivor pressed his nose to the exposed skin of my neck with a sharp exhale.

“Father had gone to Valhalla, and mother not long after,” I replied softly, eyes focused on the soft orange light the fire cast upon my walls.

“You were so small, so scared,” Eivor murmured, the softness of his voice lulling me back to sleep. “I swore to you that day I would keep you safe.”

I giggled at the memory of Eivor, then a gangly boy taking my hands in his after Sigurd had pulled my hair and declaring that he would be my protector. “From terribly cruel cousins. Do you mean to raid a settlement of bandits who pull on little girl’s braids?”

Eivor laughed, a deep rich sound that surrounded me with unbidden warmth. “Shall I bring you their leader’s head upon a pike, my lady?”

“If you wish, wolf kissed,” I answered, giggling at the soft nip of teeth upon the skin of my neck. “Though would prefer jewels as tribute. Or an offer of marriage from a handsome warrior. “ I answered, sleep beginning to at last overtake me, loosening my tongue. And before I could slap my hand over my lips, Eivor pulled me closer, his hand tight on my belly to silence my squirming.

“Go to sleep, little one” he murmured, mercifully unaffected by my words. Or if he had been, he made no sign of it. And so I did, the warmth of him against me pulling me gently down into a peaceful sleep, and when I awoke in the morning, he was gone.

Eivor Wolfsmal had not returned in two months, and the marketplace became fat with rumors that he had been captured and made to serve Kjotve the Cruel as a thrall. I had never been one for those rumors.

The sounds of the gathering crowd had finally reached the longhouse, thought as I strained to listen, I could not make the words they said. Hlif tutted, a sharp sound startling me back to the room around me and the two women gazing disapprovingly towards me.

“Perhaps it is Eivor returned after all,” I answered, trying hard to keep my voice even, uninterested. I was the ward of the king after all, I could imagine Hlif instructing me as though the words had been said aloud, and I must behave as such.

“I heard a rumor in the market that he means to ask your uncle for your hand in marriage,” Hlif answered, returning to her weaving. “I wonder what treasures he brings to pay your bride price for the wolf-kissed has no wealth of his own.”

I had heard the rumors as well, for they had followed me whenever I left the longhouse. Eivor Wolfsmal had indeed intend to ask for my hand, that much I knew. It had been a truth we had been dancing about since he had kissed me at the Yule celebration nigh a year ago under the shining green lights that shifted in the sky above us.

Our courtship had been secretive, stolen kisses, brief presses of fingers, gifts pressed into hands behind backs as we passed in the longhouse. I longed to embrace him each time he returned, fresh from battle. I had instead stood awkwardly beside Randvi as he greeted my uncle as was customary, biding my time at the feast til I could slip away to our meeting spot in the stables.

Each time I caught his gaze over a tankard of mead or found him staring at me over the crowd, I longed to do so without shame. And though I had pressed many times for him to ask my uncle for permission to marry, my brave warrior’s courage failed him.

“May I go to the docks?” I finally dared to cast a wistful glance towards Hlif who dropped her own weaving with an exasperated sigh.

“Go, you ill mannered beast,” Hlif answered with a pinched expression, her thin lips pulled tight in a grimace. Randvi paired her gentle smile with a wave of encouragement and a promise to join me later. I tore my apron free, tossing the brown fabric uncouthly to the floor.

With a bright smile and a quick stammer of thanks, I tore through the longhouse, pausing just long enough to greet my uncle and his guest with whom he conversed with a polite smile before continuing into the street. Fornburg was crowded, I thought, picking my way through the throngs of the busy market towards the docks. I ducked quickly into the small alley behind Svend’s shop, a short cut I had used countless times to reach the docks. The day before he had sailed, Eivor had pressed me sweetly between the hard form and the cool wood and kissed me til I could scarcely breathe. My fingers traced over my full lips at the memory as cries of Wolf-Kissed and Eivor echoed from the street ahead. Overhead, the squawking of a raven cut through the noise of the crowd.

“Sýnin!” I cried with a bright smile as with one last squawk, the raven crested the building and landed on my shoulder with a friendly chirp. “Hello, pretty bird, I’ve missed you so,” I cooed, fingers stroking the silky feathers beneath the raven’s chin. The comforting weight of the raven on my shoulder helped soothe my rabbit heart as I scanned the crowd. Sýnin cawed in answer, beak pulling at the loose hair of my braid impatiently. “What sort have wonders have you seen?”

“Wolves, as big as horses and trolls as big as wolves. Mountains so tall they blocked out all light. Maidens so fair they rival Freya herself,” came the reply, calloused fingers flicking a lock of dark hair from where it had fallen in front of my eyes. “I see you have charmed Sýnin, you minx.”

Eivor Wolfsmal clicked his tongue, chin motioning to his shoulder expectantly. Sýnin squawked once in disinterest before returning to pull at my hair. “Traitor,” he hissed before turning to smile brightly at me. My heart warmed at the sight, and I found myself answering with a smile of my own as I surveyed the man before me. He appeared to be whole, from the cocky grin that peeked from below his thick dark beard to the way he folded his arms over his broad chest as he stood ever so still. Poised, waiting.

“It appears your raven simply prefers my company to yours, wolf-kissed.” I scratched Sýnin’s chin one last time before she took to the sky. “And I don’t blame her for doing so. I am ever so charming.” I worried my bottom lip, stifling the girlish giggle that bubbled in my throat.

“Come here, little one,” Eivor commanded, his thick fingers crooked, beckoning me to him. And I answered, launching myself into his outstretched arms with a joyous laugh. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” I breathed into the warm fabric at his chest, a height I just barely reached. He smelled still very much like Eivor, pine and soap and the sharp tang of the sea. Your Eivor, some dark part of my mind added as I reluctantly let him go. Though I wished he would press his lips to my own even if we were surrounded by the surge of onlookers. “I think my Uncle may be less pleased with your return.”

“Is he ever pleased with me?” Eivor’s arm was heavy as he draped it about my shoulder and steered us towards the longhouse. I found myself leaning into his embrace. “If I returned from battle surrounded by a host of valkyries, I’m afraid your uncle would still find some grievance with me. You shall just have to charm him as you have always done, Siggy.”

“You shall have to do better than that, Wolf-Kissed, if you mean to gain my Uncle’s favor.” I teased as the longhouse came into view. Eivor hesitated, pausing as he turned to me, expression suddenly serious. I faltered, pulling back at the heavy cloud that suddenly hung between us, as heavy as the weight of his hands upon my shoulders.

“Sigrid.” The sharp exhale of my name gave me pause. I knew what he meant to say next, though I found myself tensing at the words that spilled forth from between his thinned lips. “I intend to ask your uncle for permission to marry.” His words were hushed, soft, and I suspected it was to mask the sound from the crowd around us.

“That is good news, elskan mín,” I murmured, fingers lacing with his, hidden by light blue fabric of my skirts.  I studied his clear blue eyes, the sincerity there. And the brief flash of unsettled nerves. Always so easy to read, my brave warrior.

Eivor squeezed my fingers, my eyes fluttering shut at the feel of his calloused skin rasping over my own. “I find myself longing for the moment I can embrace you without worrying about the prying eyes of others.”

“Wait for me, at the stables, just after sundown, ástin mín” he murmured, face ducking to rest his chin upon my shoulder. His broad chest pressed to my own, the heat of his body warming my own even through the thick layers of our clothing. His lips ghosted over my pulse hammering beneath my jaw, ever so softly before he straightened, pinning me with a crooked grin as he stalked off towards the longhouse.

We were married at Midsummer beneath the flowering tree that sat at the foot of the mountains. I had smiled so much on that day that Eivor had teased me for the weeks to follow. And each time he soothed me with sweet words of how I looked as beautiful as Freya herself in my crown of white flowers and my father’s sword upon my hip.

“Are you happy, ástin mín?” He asked when we had finally settled at our bridal table, both still breathless from the bridal race and sufficiently drunk on our shared ale. “You have a glow about you tonight. A man might think you have eaten Iðunn's apples, for you truly are a goddess, my love.”

I wrinkled my nose at the endearment, too sentimental, even for my warrior poet. “Unbearably so, elskan mín. I think I shall die and go to Valhalla from joy before the evening is through.” I choked as I forced another mouthful of ale past my lips. “Or the ale shall finish me first.” When I choked down another mouthful, my husband pulled my flagon from my fingers with a deep chuckle.

“Perhaps you should leave the ale for me, ástin mín, so that you may remember what is left of our wedding night.” Eivor finished the last of the flagon with a deep gulp before refilling it from the seemingly endless bowl of amber mead before us. Eivor had once compared my eyes to the amber color of mead, my hazy mind recalled. Yet the thought did not offer any comfort and I glared at the bowl before us as though I could will it to empty through my willpower alone.

“I do not think we shall ever see our wedding night, for you have drank three flagons already, and I do believe there is more ale here than when we started.” In truth, though I would never admit such a thing to the man who sat beside me, I was glad the feast would be a drawn out affair.

Randvi had explained what would occur upon my wedding night as she helped that morning to dress me in my ornate gown. Eivor and I would finally know each other as husband and wife, though I hadn’t the heart to tell her that our courtship had not been exactly chaste, often stopping just short of indecency.

And the act of lying with Eivor as husband and wife was not what scared me. In fact, I was very much eager to couple with him.

It was the fact that six must bear witness to that coupling for our marriage to be consider consummate. My uncle, Randvi, a priest, and three strangers would each have to watch as Eivor and I rut like beasts beneath the furs. The priest would declare our marriage official, and that would be the end of it.  To ensure I was intact, Randvi had explained with a sympathetic smile when I wrinkled my nose at her words.

“With Eivor above you, you shan’t know we are even there,” Randvi soothed as she brushed out my tangled mane of dark hair. “And you’ll find it will be over far faster than you imagined.”

“Was it so when Sigurd and you married?” I drew my knees to my chest beneath my shift, my chin resting upon the scratchy fabric. I had not been witness to her wedding night, for I had been too young and unwed at the time.

“Our marriage is very different from yours,” Randvi answered with a heavy sigh, her fingers catching in my hair and drawing a pained hiss from my lips. “Our love did not come until much later.”

Warm lips that tasted faintly of ale pressed to mine, the rasp of dark beard against my skin drawing me sharply from my thoughts. I gaped at my husband, at the wicked glint in his blue eyes as he finally drew back, his breath warm pants upon the skin of my cheek.

“You are leagues away, ástin mín,” Eivor murmured, calloused thumb brushing over bottom lip. “What troubles you so?”

I did not answer, instead grabbing the flagon from his hands to set it before us. I fidgeted, words failing me, and I was unsure if it was from the nerves or shame that burned in my blood. “My thoughts linger upon our wedding night, elskan mín.”

Eivor answered with a sharp smirk, his fingers trailing down my neck to trace along the fluttering pulse that lay beneath my pale skin. “I find myself lingering there as well.” When I did not respond, his fingers slowed upon my skin, his dark brow knit in concern. “I will not hurt you, ástin mín. I promise that for as long as we both live, no harm will befall you by my hands.” My serious warrior and his pledge did little to calm my nerves.

“Its not that,” I murmured, “I am quite looking forward to that part.” My cheeks were aflame, burning hotter than the fire before us. “It is that we must do so in front of others, Randvi, my uncle. I shall die of shame, Eivor.” I turned away from him, my burning face hidden behind my hands.

“My sweet Sigrid,” Eivor soothed, large hands pulling mine to rest in his lap. “Everyone shall be too drunk to remember anything. Besides,” he pinned me with a wicked smile, “the only sight they shall be treated to is that of my bare arse.”

I giggled at the thought, the ale finally coursing through my blood enough to relax the nerves that twisted in my gut. “That would be quite the sight, husband.” I teased, suddenly brave enough to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Though you shall need to finish our bridal ale first.”

Eivor answered with a wink as he refilled our flagons, though I noted mine had only been half full.

“Ships on the horizon!” The cry came from somewhere near the entrance of the longhouse, and Eivor answered by rising quickly, his hand flying to Varrin’s axe belted at his waist.

“Stay in the longhouse,  ástin mín,” Eivor ordered with a quick press of his lips to my forehead, “I shall return soon.” He was gone and in his place was Randvi, her hands cool in mine.

“Would Kjotve be so bold?” I asked her, my own hand gripping hers too tightly. “To attack on our wedding day?”

“Eivor will handle it,” Randvi answered, though I was unsure if it was to soothe my nerves or my own. “Do not worry, Sigrid. It is your wedding after all.”

No sound of battle followed Eivor’s departure, and after a short while, I found myself relaxing enough to sip at the mead Randvi offered. She distracted me with tales of her own wedding, of truths and knowledge on how to care for and please one’s husband, until my own finally returned.

He appeared hale as he crossed to press a sweet kiss to my lips. No wounds covered his skin, nor any gore marred his armor.

“I have a surprise for you, ástin mín,” he answered with a bright smile and another kiss. I followed his gaze to entrance of the longhouse.

And there stood Sigurd Jarl flanked by two strangers.

[vikingschristiansff]

Chapter Ten

Warning: Discussion of r*pe

Halfdan didn't speak to Greer as they were laying in bed. Halfdan was nearing sleep when his wife spoke. “It wasn’t Vikings,” she whispered.

“What?” Halfdan replied, her voice making him more alert.

“It wan’t Vikings,” she said, sitting up. “The scars on my back.”

Halfdan mimicked her and sat up as well. She continued talked before he could say anything. “I always hated having to stay on palace grounds when I was younger, so I would sneak out at night. When I was thirteen I snuck out and went into town. While I was walking around I saw Father Wallace, the priest that married us, walking out of a brothel. I tried hiding, but he saw me. So I ran, and I ran and I thought that I could lose him in the woods. But he caught up to me, he hit me in the back with his sword. He cut me two more times once I fell. I tried to get up but he turned me over and got on top of me. Then he…” tears began to form and she couldn't finish but Halfdan could guess what happened. “They’re was a group of Viking travelers there at the time. He told me to tell my father that what happened to me was because of them. They were leaving the next day and I didn't want them to be punished for what they didn't do. So, I stayed in the woods until they left, the I told my dad it was them. The only people who know the truth my sisters… and now you.”

He was angry. “Why would your father marry you to a Viking then?”

“I wasn't supposed too,” she sighed. “But Bjorn asked for a wife for you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said shyly taking her hand into his.

“No, I agreed to it,” she put a delicate hand to the side of his face. There was a moment, he felt it, and he is pretty sure she felt it too. It was broken by the sound of two drunk men walk by outside.

“Goodnight,” she said lying back down, slight panic in her voice.

“Goodnight.”

* * * * *

Ivar and Bridget were sitting naked in bed, though both were covered by blankets, they stared straight forward.

“We don't have to do it right now,” Bridget offered. She was hoping that he would agree to wait. To be honest, she didn't want to do it at all. Not because he is a cripple, but because she was was scared. Of sex and of Ivar.

“No, let’s just do it now. We have to do it eventually,” his voice was quiet, she had the feeling that he was just as shy and uncomfortable as she was.

She had to keep herself from vocalizing her disappointment. However, Ivar noticed her face display how uncomfortable she was. “Or… we could wait until after out Viking wedding,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“That sounds good,” she let out a breathe of relief. “What if you show me your legs now… so I know…” her voice drifted off, not knowing what words to use.

Ivar got shy at this, but nodded his head. He reached to the side, pulling the furs off of his body. He looked away from his wife as he exposed his legs to her. He looked over at her when he didn't hear her react.

The stared into each others eyes for what felt like forever, “they don't look bad, just different,” she whispered.

* * * * *

The next morning Olivia found a secluded place to sit, facing the docks. She began drawing the scene before her on a piece of parchment. It did feel like she was there for long, but it was actually over two hours.

“What are you drawing?,” a voice shook her out of her concentration. She was shocked to see it was Harald.

She ignored his question and continued with what she was doing. “Hello?” he asked, sitting beside her.

“You said no talking,” she smirked, and he laughed back at her response. “I am drawing that ship,” she pointed to were she was looking.

“You are very talented,” he said looking at the picture, comparing it to the ship.

“Thank you,” she smiled big. The was a comfortable pause before she spoke again. “Why did you help me when we arrived here?”

Harald reached up, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I just—.”

“Olivia!” Harald was cut off. They both turned around to see Sigurd standing a few feet behind them.

“I should go,” she whispered to Harald, collecting her things and making her way towards her husband.

“What was that?” He said harshly, through gritted teeth.

“He was just talking to me, something you never do,” she stomped off ahead of him. He looked back, seeing Harald looking back. The two men held the cold stare before Sigurd broke it, trailing behind his angry wife.

* * * * *

Isla and Elsie had gone for a walk the morning after the feast. “Ubbe seems like a very lovely husband, very handsome as well, why are you so hateful towards him?” Elsie asked her twin, as the walked with their pinky fingers interlocked.

“I don’t give into temptations as easily as you do,” Isla smirked.

“You’re the one with child, not me,” Elsie quipped back. “What do you think of this place?”

“It’s not Scotland,” she sighed. “But, I suppose it’s not as horrible as I thought that it would be.”

“It’s not as fun as the palace was,” Elsie laughed.

They heard noises as they continued their walk, being the curious girls they were, they decided to investigate.

The came across a man and blonde woman, her dress was pulled up as he kneeled. They were not watching for long before the man stood up, allowing the girls to see who he was.

“Is that Hvitserk?” Isla asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Elsie replied curtly, as Hvitserk began kissing the woman.

“Who is he with?”

“I don’t know, let keep walking.”

“Are you su—.”

“Yes.”

* * * * *

“My mother seemed to like you,” Bjorn told Leith as they ate breakfast together the next morning.

“I like her as well,” she was going to continue, but she stopped herself.

“What?” Bjorn laughed at her sudden timidness.

“What,” she paused. “What happened to your father,” she asked.

“He left years ago. We don't know where he is, or what happened to him,” he explained to her. She decided not to push the subject any further. Thankfully, Bjorn continued to speak.

“The arrangements for the wedding have begun. The will take place in four days.”

“I will let my sisters know.”

*Not my Gifs*

@-thatgirloverthere-​ @mdlady​ @heavenly1927​ @darkwhisperswolf

[shall-we-imagine]

And I'll still love you. (Klaus Goldstein x Reader *AU*)

Sequel to Mess me up.

In which Klaus gets back with his ex.

Jk I'd never 😂👌🏻

Genre: Angst/some fluff?

A/N: This is long, and I mean long, so strap yourselves in I guess? CuZ iTs A lOnG aSs RiDe (A Mark Lee tribute 👌🏻)

Also guys we have a lil Cedric (from BIR) cameo here so um idk there's that ig 😂😂

(Second Person Point of View)

"Okay, one day left till finals; you guys know what that means!" Zeus smirks, though the only one that knew what that means was apparently Luca.

"This time; we're not getting kicked out of the VIP lounge." Luca points an accusing finger at Zeus.

"It's not my fault you lied about our identities without letting me know that I was a famous producer and not just a fucking college student!" Zeus growls.

The intense argument only grew louder from the two opposite sides of the table, isolating you and Klaus from the rest of the group in a strange way. Everyone knew to ignore when Luca and Zeus started arguing, so Amelia and Guy - on the other side of the table - were already having a separate conversation, leaving you and Klaus in an awkward silence (If you ignore the two yelling dorks, of course).

As frustrating as the awkwardness is, you'd already decided to ignore the blond ever since the incident, and no amount of awkward can change that.

It'd been around five days since you even looked him in the face, and he didn't seem to be planning to fix anything. Sure, he constantly looks uncomfortable, and you're sure he knows he fucked up, but that doesn't change his lack of attempts to even apologise properly.

"Hey, what's up, you guys?" Scarlett beams, sitting next to you. Elias, Yukiya, and Augustus take seats around the table as well. "Sigurd's still busy with some work at the library, but he'll be here soon." She announces.

"Anyway, this time we're not going into the VIP lounge; you can get kicked out alone if you want to, but I'd like to keep my dignity!" Zeus crosses his arms.

"Which club are we visiting anyway?" Luca looks around the table.

"None! We're supposed to be studying!" Klaus snaps, earning confused looks from everyone. Sure, it was a logical statement, but his sudden outburst left everyone at a loss of words.

"Don't be such a killjoy." Sigurd's voice is followed by a chuckle. He places himself in the empty seat between you and Klaus; however, you could still feel Klaus stare at you for a bit after it.

"He's right though. Finals start in like two days.." Yukiya states, to which Elias nods.

"Yeah, I need to revise." The younger blond agrees.

"It starts in a week for Amelia, Guy, Augustus, and I." Scarlett shrugs.

"Yeah, we're in." Guy grins.

"Sorry, guys, I don't think Yukiya and I will be joining; we still have stuff to study." Elias gives one of those polite frowns, where you know he's not disappointed about missing out on any of that. Knowing Elias, you can tell he's probably pleased to spend his day in a library instead of a club, and normally, you'd agree; you enjoy peace, and it's never too fun to be in crowded places.

However, you need to do something fun to get your mind off of Klaus. If he's gonna be a dick then so be it; you have to move on.

"I'm coming." You shrug. Part of you wanted to turn to check Klaus's reaction, but you stayed composed.

"What?!" He semi-shouts, but immediately clasps his hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed by his accidentally loud reaction. He clears his throat, "I mean, you're in the same uni as these dumbasses and I; you start finals the day after tomorrow! What do you mean you'll go clubbing today? You should be studying!"

"What makes you think I have any studying left? I'm already done." You weren't gonna bring it up. You really weren't. Not in front of everyone too, but before you could think it through, you found yourself quoting him from that night. And it wasn't a lie either, you spent your days binge studying to keep your mind busy, so at this point, you really needed something else to keep you occupied.

Something flashes in his eyes, recognition maybe: you weren't sure, but either way, he stays silent. And perhaps you should've left it at that, but the built up anger inside you is now clawing its way out.

"Plus, even if I haven't finished studying; what is it to you?! Who even are you to object and involve yourself in my life?! Mind your own business!" He, once again, doesn't respond, but this time it wasn't because he was caught off guard. He just seemed slightly broken, but in the midst of the fury and anguish you felt, you couldn't care that much.

"Um, what's up with the weird tension between you guys?" Zeus lets out a nervous laugh. If Zeus was giving nervous laughs then it was definitely obvious to everyone how serious whatever is between you and Klaus.

"Haven't you two been ignoring each other a bit too? Like you guys used to be super close." Augustus points out.

Amelia's eyes meet yours, and she immediately gets the memo. "You guys are crazy; they're fine! They've always argued a lot; it's how they are! Can we focus on who's coming and who's not?" You give her a small smile, as to say thank you.

Scarlett catches on to the silent conversation between you and Amelia, immediately joining in. "Yeah, don't worry too much; we've seen it happen a lot! So, yeah, let's just focus on what's important here."

"Uh, sure." Zeus lets it go. Luca, Guy, and Augustus were smarter than that, unfortunately; they remained skeptic. Regardless, none of them make any further comments.

"I've also done my studying, so I'm good to go, as well." Sigurd shoots you a wink, earning a giggle in return. A genuine one, which you were thankful for. It made you relax a little after that rage you let loose on the blond jerk.

Klaus slams his fist on the table, "Fine. I'm coming too."

"Man, could you fucking chill; you're starting to sound scary. More so than normal." Luca complains but moves on to deciding the time and place to meet.

Your eyes drift to Klaus, who was already looking. You quickly look away, unsure why your heart suddenly leaped into your throat.

You avoided looking in his direction for the rest of the gathering.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"You're not gonna tell me what's up with you and Klaus?" Scarlett glances at you before looking back at her own reflection and applying highlighter.

Amelia sticks her head out the bathroom door, one eye lined perfectly till the wing while the other was left with a random stray streak as if she rushed to the door at hearing Scarlett's statement, and in the process fucked over her left eye. Of course you know that's exactly what she did.

"Um, excuse you? I think you mean us??"

Scarlett sighs, "You're not gonna tell us what's up with you and Klaus?"

"Nothing." You apply your favourite lipstick, absolutely pleased it goes perfectly with your dress. At least one thing is going right here.

Scarlett frowns slightly, but doesn't push it.

"You're so full of shit." Amelia chuckles before pulling herself back inside.

You roll your eyes at her, but a small smile tugs at your lips.

"Who's picking us up?" You wonder.

Scarlett clears her throat. "Well, we initially asked Sigurd, I swear, but...well, um, Klaus insisted..."

"That's fine." You put on your best nonchalant expression.

As if he calculated exactly when to arrive, Klaus calls Amelia's phone the second you're done fixing your hair, aka the last step to getting ready. Excluding shoes, of course.

"Can someone pick up? My hands are busy!" Amelia yells from the bathroom.

You glance at Scarlett. Also still busy.

Not wanting to sound even more suspicious, you force yourself to pick up. "Hello?"

"He-..(Y/N)?"

You swallow awkwardly, "um, yeah, they're not done yet. Are you here? Like, um, to pick us up?"

"No, I'm here to hand you your mail, (Y/N)." You don't need to see him to know he's rolling his eyes.

"I meant are you here already?"

"Yeah."

Amelia sticks her head outside the bathroom again, this time with both eyes looking perfect. "Invite him up here." She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. "Unless, of course, you have a problem with Klaus being in your apartment."

You throw a pillow, and it barely misses her face.

"Hey! That could've ruined my make up!" She yells but doesn't come back out again.

You considered inviting him like she said, but just the thought of it brought back too many unwelcomed memories. You blushed and immediately decided against it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, sorry, um, I'll just come down and keep your company till they're done, okay? Bye!" You hang up, leaving him no chance to reply. It was already awkward enough.

You slip your feet into your high heels, grab your purse, and head outside- not forgetting to remind the girls to lock the door before leaving.

If it were for you to decide, you'd let the jerk rot in his car as he waits for the three of you, but for the sake of letting things go smoothly, you decide it's for the best to try to make it seem like you don't wanna punch Klaus in the face.

Quickly enough, you spot his car. Also quickly enough, you notice the familiar fluffy, blonde curls you were so used to running your hands through. He looks as handsome as usual, but that hurt you in a different way this time. Sure, everytime you noticed how attracted to him you are, you'd be upset, solely because he's not yours to admire this way. However, today, it hurts you because everytime you look at these perfectly drawn features, a few written words come to mind.

He notices your presence but says nothing. He just stares at you with an unreadable expression.

Not wanting to look odd just standing in front of your building's door, you stiffly walk to his car as fast as you can without face planting into cement.

You take a back seat and say nothing.

Klaus lets out a slight, humourless laugh. "What's that? A back seat? You always call shotgun."

"Wasn't feeling it." You shrug and pull out your phone, using it as your own personal don't talk to me sign.

Unfortunately, Klaus doesn't care about any signs you're giving if it doesn't match his desires. "You look pretty, but with a dress like that, people will mistake you for a prostitute. Couldn't you wear something more revealing??" His voice dripped with irritation, an irritation you couldn't understand.

"Excuse me? My dress is fine; not everyone is a pervert, but you wouldn't know, would you?!" You clap back, not in the mood to let him take out his anger on you.

"Are you trying to call me a pervert?" He laughs in disbelief.

"I didn't say that, but, hey, if the shoe fits, feel free to wear it."

"That's what I get for trying to make sure no one hurts you?" He complains.

"Well, too bad you already did." You spat, tears blinding you momentarily. You hated yourself for letting this escape your lips, but it ended up silencing both of you for a few moments, allowing you to regain composure before the girls hop into the car.

"Uh, what's up with the weird vibe?" Amelia raises an eyebrow.

Scarlett sighs from the front seat, "I don't even know anymore."

Neither Klaus or you respond, so, naturally, the conversation died, leading to a rather quiet ride, excluding Scarlett and Amelia's countless attempts at making it less awkward.

"Finally! I felt like I'd suffocate inside from the tension!" Amelia stretches her arms happily once she leaves the car. It's safe to say...she wasn't the only one happy to exit the metal cage of awkward.

You meet up with the rest of the group before going inside, which wasn't all that helpful, since you lost each other fairly quickly.

Thankfully, Amelia and Scarlett were still with you, and finally, you were ready to block all thoughts of a certain blond and enjoy your life for the time being.

As planned, the three of you were already singing and dancing your hearts out after a few drinks, not a care in the world. You didn't have time to think about what Klaus is doing or how much of a dick he was to you.

Well, until a familiar guy approaches you. And perhaps Klaus shouldn't have been the one your mind drifted to, but that didn't stop you from letting the blond you'd ignored all year try to flirt with you for the billionth time.

"(Y/N)! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Cedric yells over the music.

You tried your best not to roll your eyes, "Yeah, me neither."

"Wanna dance?"

"I'm sure you can see I'm already danc-" both girls nudge you. "Sure. I'd love to dance." You force a smile, not skipping glaring at the girls before following Cedric a little further away from them. You weren't sure why he dragged you away, but you also couldn't care less; being near him was already annoying enough, so it really didn't matter.

The only reason you found yourself agreeing to this nonsense is that you know how much Klaus dislikes it when Cedric flirts with you. He always claimed that Cedric only cares about looks and that you should stay away from him, which normally you do. Mostly because you don't enjoy his personality, or the lack thereof.

However, something about being with the guy Klaus would most hate for you to be with just made you feel pleasure. It was like you wanted to piss him off, even though he really couldn't see you anyway, but you so desperately wish he would.

The dancing got really awkward really quickly. Cedric was already getting touchy, and he didn't seem to catch on to how uncomfortable you felt.

"Could you not fucking do that?!" You aggressively push his hand away from you.

He frowns, "Do what? We're just dancing together. You agreed to that."

"I didn't agree to you groping me though, did I?"

Before he could respond, your eyes drifted to Klaus, who was sitting at the bar. He'd just spotted you.

And maybe common sense would say to just ignore him.

But no.

You look Cedric in the eye, pull his face closer to you, and smash your lips together. You can tell he was confused but quickly recovered, using both hands to pull you closer to him by the waist.

This could've went on for longer if you weren't harshly yanked away from the blond.

"What's wrong with you?!" You try to pull your arm away from Klaus's grasp, but the furious male didn't budge. He didn't even respond; he just pulled you away.

"Klaus! Let go!" You try to wriggle your arm out of his grip. As annoyed as you acted, a huge part of you was extremely giddy. You can tell he's furious, and as sadistic as it sounds, it makes you happy. Your mind didn't seem to catch on to how awkward it would be next time you see Cedric; all it could focus on was that Klaus is jealous.

He only lets go of you outside the club; the sudden change of temperature causes your skin to tingle with goosebumps. You rub your arms to keep yourself warm.

"Bloody hell. I told you that dress wasn't a good idea." Aggressively, he marches to his car and opens the trunk. He pulls out a jacket and wraps it around you.

Blushing lightly, you clear your throat. "Um, thanks."

"I'm not done. What the fuck were you doing with Cedric, (Y/N)?!"

You roll your eyes. "Exactly what you saw."

He nods, letting out a humorless laugh. "Okay. Let me rephrase that: why the fuck were you kissing Cedric?"

Smirking, you poke his chest and whisper, "Because I wanted to."

He grips your hand, "No, (Y/N), you didn't. You hate that guy."

"Well, why does it matter? Why do you care?" You pull away.

He stares at you in silence for a few seconds. "Get in the car."

Not even waiting for a reply, Klaus walks over to the driver's seat.

"What?!"

"I said get in the car. Passenger's seat this time." He shuts the car door.

You snap out of your confusion when his engine roars, pestering you to get moving. You rush and follow his instructions of not sitting in the back seat.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"You'll see." And with that, neither one of you spoke a word to the other.

***

"I'm not going for a swim with you, Klaus." The moment your gaze met the familiar lake, you were ready to bawl your eyes out, but you kept it together.

Leaving his seat, Klaus sighs. "Calm down. We're here to talk. Like we always do."

Leaving his jacket in the car, you take a deep breath and try to hold yourself together. You can't just break down now. You block away the memories of every other time you and Klaus came to this place.

You sit down on the grass but make sure to keep a distance between you and the male.

"Because it wasn't obvious enough that you're mad." He sighs.

"What do you want, Klaus?"

He looks away, "It's more about what I don't want...I don't want to lose you."

The butterflies went wild in your stomach, leaving you with a clear shade of pink on your cheeks. However, this isn't enough for you to move on and forgive him, so you do your best to keep a stern look.

"Why did you lie to me, Klaus? You don't have feelings for me, and...and I already knew, but part of me wanted to believe you, and you weren't making it very easy to reject you. You could tell I had a crush on you, and you decide to manipulate me into having sex with you?! And you have the guts to criticize Cedric? You're even worse!" Well, there goes your perfect make up. Perhaps raccoon eyes could be the new trend; you can totally pull that off.

His eyes glisten, and you almost want to take back everything, but you have to stand up for yourself. He can't just walk all over you like you're the old weelcome doormat some unknown person placed in front of your apartment door. Who the fuck misspells Welcome? Why the fuck would anyone buy that? Why place it in front of your apartment? Why haven't you thrown it away? All unimportant thoughts you'd rather talk about right now than have to deal with Klaus and this emotional mess.

"I didn't lie to you. And you went out of your way to kiss that douche bag, didn't you? You wanted me to see."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Klaus?! You're trying to make it sound like I'm wrong now?!" You push yourself off the ground, the blond immediately following.

"Listen, okay? This isn't what I meant! I just- I'm still being petty about it, alright? I wanted to punch him square in the face."

"Well, you have no right to be even mildly annoyed. Leave me alone." You start walking away, but he gets a hold of your arm.

"(Y/N), could you just let me explain myself, please?!" He snaps.

"No, Klaus, all you do is blame me; fuck off." You push him away. What you didn't prepare for is stumbling backwards towards the lake. High heels deciding to join The Klaus Movement of Being a Dick to (Y/N), you quickly find yourself falling off the edge.

Panic-filled eyes follow your movements. Klaus's reaction came late, and by the time he grabbed you, he was already falling into the freezing cold water with you.

Surrounded by fear of drowning, you involuntarily call out for Klaus.

"(Y/N)?! (Y/N)!" Klaus's nervous voice echoes around you, but in the middle of trying to stay afloat, you couldn't decide where he was.

So, naturally, he had to be the one to find you. His arms wrap around you, trying to pull you closer to him, but the way you kept flailing your arms wasn't helping him. "Hey, hey, (Y/N), it's fine."

Eventually he was able to snap you out of it and hold you close to his chest. "There, it's okay. You're safe with me. You know I'll always make sure nothing hurts you."

You'd begun to calm down, you'd begun to forget about the dumb note, about him manipulating you; you'd started relaxing in his embrace, but his last statement brought you back to real life. "Let me go, Klaus." You try to pry yourself away from him.

"(Y/N), you can't swim! What are you doing?!"

"Just let me go, Klaus! I'm fine!"

"Didn't seem like it when you started calling for me!"

"It was a mistake! Just let me be!" You begin pushing him away again.

"(Y/N), fucking stop! You'll hurt yourself!" He grips your wrist tightly.

"Fine!" You stop struggling. "Just take me to the edge."

He remains silent. "You're not gonna leave the second I put you back up on land, are you?"

"What? Of course I will! I can't stand looking at your face." You turn your face to the side.

"That so?"

You roll your eyes and begin facing him. "Ye-"

He forces his lips onto yours, leading you to push him away with all your force, this time allowing you to break free from his grasp and latching onto the edge.

Furious, you find extra energy to easily pull yourself up and onto the grass. Unfortunately, your strength was immediately gone after, and this is when you couldn't take any of it anymore. You lost it all.

"Why do you keep ruining my life? I never asked for this." You sob. "Tonight, all I wanted was to have fun and forget about you, but no, you had to ruin things for me again! Look at me! My hair, my make up, my dress, my whole fucking night is a mess! And it's because of you!" You point an accusing finger at him.

His head drops in shame, and he slowly climbs to the edge near you. You start to get up but stop when you hear his shaky voice.

"Wait! Please..." His voice cracks, "I won't touch you anymore. I will drive you home. Just please...please let me explain first; hear me out."

"Get it over with, Goldstein." You cross your arms. You were starting to feel cold again, but you made sure to not make it obvious this time.

"Listen; I didn't lie. I genuinely felt attracted to you; in fact, I have been for the longest time. It's just that I'd already accepted we were merely friends, and I had to move on, and I figured the only way to truly stop viewing you romantically is to commit to someone, so when I found someone I was remotely interested in, I took it as a chance, but then suddenly, everything was gone. I didn't have her; I didn't have you. I didn't have anything." He takes a shaky breath. "And...and I came to you for comfort, but before I knew it, I was trying to get you to do what you clearly didn't want to do. It was selfish; I know. And by morning, I felt disgusting. I knew you wouldn't wanna look me in the face, so I left. I wanted to apologize, but you continued to ignore me, and if I'm being honest, I was also scared to confront you."

"Klaus-"

"Just let me finish." He sighs. "I'm not trying to say I'm not wrong. I am. I just want you to know I would never intentionally hurt you; I was just confused. I was heartbroken; I still had feelings for you; you let me have my way with you. I never knew you were actually into me as well. And when you ignored me, I just wanted to do anything to get your attention. Even if it meant to piss you off...which I suppose you got back at me by getting with Cedric, but that's not the point. You're right I don't have the right to be mad over it. It's just- everything just ended terribly, and I know everything is a mess, but I promise you I never meant to hurt you."

"I don't want to lose you." He starts sobbing, but Klaus being his prideful self, he quickly does his best to hold back.

You shouldn't brush everything off. He was wrong, and he hurt you. But seeing him trembling like that, you couldn't stop yourself from taking him into your arms. "I forgive you." You mumble.

"You do?" He perks up, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Yeah...I understand. Feelings can be confusing at times." You shrug. "Also...you never forced me into something I didn't want to do...I thought you knew I liked you?"

"Me?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"Yeah? You literally said it?" You let out a confused laugh.

Klaus pulls away from you. "When did I ever say that?"

"You were drunk; you said you knew I like you."

"Oh...that's just something I say...to everyone...when I'm drunk..." He rubs his temples in embarrassment.

You laugh. "Well, it's not like you're any less narcissistic when not drunk anyway."

"Hey! Watch it! I could still push you back into the water!"

"Shut up. You literally freaked the hell out when I fell the first time." You get off the grass.

He follows. "Not true."

"Yes true."

"Nope."

"Yup."

Well, maybe two stubborn people shouldn't be friends because this went on for a while. You were glad, however, that the tension between you guys was gone, and you two were back to normal again.

"Wanna go back to my apartment this time?" Klaus smirks before quickly adding, "Promise you won't be waking up to any notes this time...?"

Your face heats up. He was still recovering from a break up. This was still a bad idea. You should just decline and take things slow.

"Sure."

[madsmikkelsenschesthair]

Blood of the Dragon ch.4

Summary: Jaime comes back to Kattegat with shocking news and Bjorn plans to go on a raid in search of his father and Yidu.The boys give her gifts, one that shocks Hvitserk and Sigurd.

Warnings: arguments, violence, abandonment, fluff

A/N: Holy cow thanks so much for reading and your feedback! You guys are awesome! Also, I do ship Rhaegar x Cersei. They’re a couple in my other story too and Cersei has a son in here from Robert Baratheon and my other one. Sorry to those who don’t ship them but I wanted my girl Elia Martell to Rest In Peace. Don’t worry Cersei x Jaime don’t have a relationship here. Also, just a heads up, when I’m finished with this story I’ll be writing Vikings and Game of Thrones imagines/one-shots so send in your requests! The next chapter is going to be very long so bear with me, my children.

Freyja stared at the man who was talking to Björn. He was very much different from her world, well her Norse one that is. His hair was impossibly soft and golden like fine gold, eyes as green as one of her jewels, tall like Björn and looked just as strong. His armor so shiny and clean she could see her reflection on it. He looked like one of the English knights from the stories Kraka used to tell them when they were children but more handsome and cleaner and when the wind picked up his scent he smelled like perfume. Yet what took her breath away was the golden sword strapped against his hip. His accent was the same one as Athelstan if not more smooth and posh.

What worried her more was Ragnar. If the war ended six years ago, what happened to him? She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that Freyja couldn’t deny. Bitterness pooled her tongue just thinking of all the horrible things that must have happened. Freyja needed to speak to Lagertha and maybe they could sacrifice a goat for the gods or go to Uppsala. She was so desperate she even wanted to go to Athelstan and pray to his God. Even the Seer might have answers, still, Freyja straightened her back and blinked away the tiny tears that were forming. She couldn’t show this man weakness. She had to be brave.

Björn stepped aside and both men turned to her. Freyja could see the hurt on her Bear’s face and she instantly panicked. “Come, little princess, I want you to meet someone”

With shaky legs, Freyja did as she was told. Both men towered over her but the knight knelt, his green eyes full of sympathy and kindness for her. “Hello Princess, I am Ser Jaime Lannister. Björn was telling me he told you the truth and all of it is true” Freyja glanced at Björn and he nodded sadly. “Your father, King Rhaegar, has remarried. My sister is your stepmother” Freyja wanted to be sick. She looked over Jaime’s shoulder and thought about breaking into a run but Björn gripped her shoulder before she could bolt and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“Are you here to take me, home uncle?” Freyja’s heart was pounding against her chest. ‘Please say no. I cannot go home yet’.

Jaime smiled and took her hand and shook his head, “Your father has given me no such order. Don’t worry little dove I’m not here to take you anywhere you don’t want to go”

Freyja relaxed. She liked him already but Bjorn wasn’t having it. He pulled her away from Uncle Jaime and put his arm around her. “Why are you here then Lannister?” 

The knight rose and gave him that cold look again. “I’m here because His Grace told me to. He wanted me personally to give you the news instead of sending a raven”

Bjorn scratched his beard, thinking. If his father disappeared sometime during the war then their men disappeared too. They needed to speak to his Mother and Lagertha, he wasn’t sure how the women were going to take it. Freyja did her best to hide the fear on her face, Ragnar was out there lost and Yidu was with him.

Lagertha never wanted to meet Jaime Lannister, the man Bjorn had told her about many years ago when he came to deliver Rhaegar’s letter asking for help but when she saw him walking with her son and Freyja she knew there was something wrong. Nothing good could come out of this visit. They were introduced by Bjorn and Lagertha sucked in her breath when Ser Jaime told her he had harsh news about her ex-husband. He was invited inside the Great Hall and a meeting with her, Bjorn, Athelstan, Aslaug, Ubbe, and the Knight was held. The younger children wouldn’t hear this but Freyja would tell them anyway. Sigurd held her hand as the four of them walked into the woods while Ivar watched enviously as he fought to keep up with them by crawling. Hvitserk was telling her a story about how he tripped on a bog and she laughed. Sigurd blushed when she did and Hvitserk smirked victoriously. All three of them had a gift to give her and Freyja had a piece of not so good news to tell them. They stopped walking as they reached a beautiful grassy clearing, only surrounded by trees that made the sun dance. Freyja shivered and snuggled into her mantle, she sat sidesaddle with her hand fixing her bootstrap. The boys took a sit and gave each other nervous looks like they did when she caught them talking about marriage.

As the oldest brother Hvitserk spoke first, “We have gifts for you” Of course they did! This had to be as some sort of bribe. “I want to give you mine first”

His brothers weren’t too happy about that and Ivar lashed out, “Why you? Why not draw sticks and see who wins?”

“Because I’m the oldest and I said so!” Hvitserk got up and disappeared behind the trees before his little brothers could protest, Freyja swore she heard a little whimper and Hvitty shushed whatever he had. They eyed him curiously as he turned back around with a bundle of rags in his arms, she cocked an eyebrow at him he was grinning so hard his face hurt. 

“What will you be giving me, Hvitty? A baby?”

His brothers whistled and he blushed. “No my dear Valkyrie but something you might love like a child” he unwrapped the bundle and Freyja was met with a pair of golden eyes. Freyja unwrapped it more now eager to see, why it was a wolf! She gasped and took the pup from Hvitserk’s arms lifting it up so she could meet eye to eye and saw it was a boy. He licked her nose and she giggled. The wolf wagged his tail. Freyja was immediately in love with him! Something about him reminded her of her real home.

“Where did you find him?” She snuggled the pup against her chest and covered him against the cold. “I love him so much already”

“A white direwolf that was roaming around her was pregnant. Sadly all of her pups were stillborn except for this one. I was there when she gave birth and I had to cut her to get him out” He explained reaching to touch a little ear. “Athelstan has been caring for him and when I asked what to give you he said the pup”

Her gentle Athelstan. Freyja would have to visit him and thank him with all her heart in person.

“My turn” Sigurd said and reached into his pocket. Freyja hugged the wold pup, she needed a name for him. Sigurd took out a small red velvet sack took out a gold ring with a red ruby encrusted with diamonds around it. Freyja gasped so loud she startled her pup. “For you my Goddess” he took her hand and slipped the ring on her marriage finger. Hvitserk and Ivar were not pleased. 

“How did you get that ring?” Ivar asked with a scowl on his face.

“Where did you get the gold coins to buy it?” Hvitserk reached for the ring but Freyja pulled away quickly covering her hand.

“That’s a discussion for another time. Sig I love it so much, thank you”

Now Ivar felt self-conscious. His brothers' gifts had taken her breath away, he didn’t know how she was going to react to his. He had found it while searching for something to give her. Ivar had managed to stumble across a cedar wood trunk that was filled with Freyja’s childhood things. He had hoped to find a valuable item that she would like and he happened to find just the right one. Ivar reached into the bag he had strapped against his hip.

“I’m not sure if you will like mine, Rey” he grumbled, “I thought of you when I saw it.” Ivar pulled out the dagger.

It was a beautiful weapon that seemed to be made of the finest steel that ever existed, the hilt black with a red garnet. Freyja was speechless. Such beautiful gifts she received today she wasn’t sure what she loved best; the pup, the ring or the gorgeous dagger her Ivar was gifting her. She took it silently still gaping at it. The blade was sharp but the weapon itself was light in weight, the balance was perfect. Hvitserk recognized it immediately.

“Ivar where did you get that?” The memories were vague but he knew what it was and how it ended it up in Kattegat.

“In a trunk. I thought it would make an amazing gift” His little brother said this with restored pride now that he saw Freyja’s reaction.

Hvitserk tried to take the dagger away as well but Freyja stood up as quick as a cat. “It’s mine now”

“You don’t know who it belonged to! They tried to kill you with that when you were a baby!” The words left his mouth and he instantly regretted it. Sigurd gave him a sharp look and told him to shut up. Ivar’s face paled but Freyja’s expression did not change.

“They tried to kill me with the dagger and whoever sent them to kill me will die with the same dagger they sent” The pup wiggled in her arms but she did not let go. “I am not afraid and it does not anger me that Ivar gave me such a gift. The same dagger that was used to try to kill me will be used on my enemies. It will help me along the journey”

“What journey?” Ivar asked.

Freyja needed to tell them. So many news today and new information she did not know but needed to hear might as well tell them now.

“The war ended a few years ago but your father disappeared after and no one has seen him or his men since” 

“What do you mean they haven’t seen him?” Ivar wanted to cry. They had not seen their father since they were children and they all had prayed for his return.

“They have not seen him at all and the war has been over for six years now. I want to go with Bjorn on his next raid to look for him, you should come too”

“We must” Hvitserk said looking at his brothers. “Our father needs us as much as we need him”

“Mother will never let us go” Sigurd argued.

“Well maybe me and Hvitty can go alone and you two can stay here. I love Ragnar as much as you” The wolf pup snuggled into her furs and she put the dagger inside her cloak.

Sigurd kept his eyes on the dagger, “How are you going to explain the dagger to  Kraka and Lagertha? They’ll take it away from you once they see it you know”

Freyja shrugged. “I’ll hide it under my pillow. I still need to name my direwolf though” Her pup licked her wrist and she giggled. There were a few shouts coming from the village and they all grew quiet. Hvitserk jumped to his feet and ran out of the clearing to search for the source of the noise. Freyja’s hand was already snaking for the dagger again, her survival and protection instincts kicked in. Ivar couldn’t properly protect himself and Sigurd could but still, she would protect them. Hvitserk came back breathless his face was pale and fear clear as day in his eyes.

“We need to go. Freyja...your father...King Rhaegar is here”

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