#@tis-itheapplepie

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The Alliance

Summary: Princess (Y/N)'s hunt has finally come, and Ivar has more than a country to explore.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

A/N: I know I haven't been uploading and I'm sorry, I've been working and this story in particular requires a LOT of research (like literally so much). That said please enjoy this chapter, remember if its bold that means it is spoken in the foreign language. This chapter does include a hunting scene so trigger warning if it applies.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Taglist:

The celebration of Princess (Y/N)’s homecoming was indeed an event that would be talked about in Tunisia for months, and the Norse travelers would never forget it. The beach, the dancing, the music, the food that was served was all breathtaking and bordering comfortably on the edge of overwhelming.

It was only when the feast was entirely eaten and the performers were physically unable to continue that everyone agreed to retreat to their own homes to rest.

Ivar found himself on the back of his father, he couldn’t fathom hauling his weight on his crutches after he had exhausted all his energy during the festivities. However; it seemed Ragnar had reserved just enough energy to help his youngest son to the palace.

He even carried Ivar’s crutches in his arms as Ivar clung to his back, and Ivar saw how his father’s grip on them left his knuckles pale white.

‘You do not like my crutches.’ he said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of them as they lagged behind the royal party on the way back to the castle.

‘I do not like them.’ Ragnar confessed casually.

‘Why?’

‘You do not need them, Ivar; you move slower with them. I can tell it exhausts you and you break more bones by standing upright.’

‘I haven’t bro-’

‘You have.’ Ragnar interrupted the lie, his voice suddenly stern.

‘I am not your mother, I don’t need to see and hear you crying to know when you have pushed your body too far for its limitations. Every time I tried to hold you for the first year of your life I broke a bone in my rough handling.’

At his father’s confession Ivar was left speechless; how many times had his mother drunkenly rambled that as a babe Ivar cried whenever Ragnar picked him up? Of course Ivar had not known why he did this, he was too young, all he knew was his mother was telling the truth about it. Aslaug’s drunken complaining made up a large amount of Ivar’s childhood and sometimes her drunkenness made her dramatize the events but this was one of the few that never changed; Ragnar never spoke of it in front of him.

Not once in all his life.

‘Even the night I left you in the woods, it was your right ankle, it cracked as I tried to swaddle you. I hadn’t intended to leave you that night, I was just trying to hold you and I couldn’t do even that without hurting you.’ Ragnar continued.

‘You must not be used to the palm wine these Tunisians serve, mead has never made you drunk enough to tell me this before.’ Ivar tried weakly to joke.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear this, he had long ago come to accept that he would die without ever having had this conversation with his father.

‘I must not be.’ his father let out a humorless breath of laughter.

‘How do you know when I break a bone? Is it the blue in my eyes?’ Ivar asked.

‘No, son; it is not your eyes, it’s your nose.’

‘My nose?’

‘It scrunches up in a wince whenever a bone breaks, even as a baby before the cries could fall from your lips your nose would give you away. I also know because whenever I see you break a bone I feel it.’ his father confessed.

‘I feel the same sickness rise up in my throat, the same guilt. My guiltiness led me to abandon you, my guilt kept me from loving you. Guilt over how you were born, guilt that my impatience and disregard to your mother’s warning cost you your health.’

Ivar did not need any elaborations on what his father was referencing.

“His mother said he would be a monster.”

“Not even ten and already a killer.”

“There is something not human in him, I just know it.”

“She wasn’t even pregnant yet and she knew he’d be vile and twisted.”

“He even slithers around like the great serpent, he will bring Ragnarok to us all!”

Phrases like these were whispered around him all his life; his mother’s prophecy that if Ragnar had her too soon she would birth him a monster.

‘I do not blame you, or mother, I am not angry with you father. I never have been… I never could be. I-’ Ivar felt like he was physically choking on the words he was trying to say.

It was the first time he’d ever said them out loud before.

‘I love you Father, even if you broke my bones holding me I never wanted you to put me down.’ he said pressing his face into his father’s shoulder, and let Ragnar feel the tears soak into the fabric of his tunic.

‘You do not have to blame me, I will even allow you to be foolish enough to forgive me, but son, I will never forgive myself for the way I treated you. You and your brothers are one of the very few things that keep me in Midgard, and I do not deserve the love and respect you all show me. I have wronged you all, in unforgivable ways.’

‘I have never heard you admit to being wrong.’ Ivar said around the lump that had formed in his throat as he at last got a hold of his emotions.

‘Do not get used to it, it will never happen again and I will deny it if you tell any other living thing.’ his father said, his voice once again becoming lighthearted.

Their emotional conversation had ended, and he knew that neither he nor his father would ever mention it again. Not to each other or to anyone else.

Not even the Princess would hear of this, he would keep this moment selfishly to himself for the rest of his life.

A comfortable silence fell over the two men and lasted until they were finally in the palace, where Ragnar placed his son down and placed the crutches down, sending them a distasteful glance.

Ivar looked over at the others and saw that they were still raving over the festivities and their eagerness for sleep and he looked back to his father.

‘I know I do not need them, father, but I do want them. I want to stand tall among other men, I'm tired of looking up at those I know are beneath me.’ he whispered as he pulled himself up on his crutches.

‘I will not use them forever, I will improve them…and myself.’ he promised.

Ragnar sighed and placed a sudden, unexpected kiss on Ivar’s temple and whispered into his ear in confidence.

‘You will be a man to be feared one day, Ivar the Boneless. Your broken body will never be able to contain your mind and violence.’

With those last words Ragnar went back to the group and he along with Aslaug retired to their chambers.

His brothers and the Tunisians all quickly followed suit, and gave quick and polite goodbyes before going their own ways as well.

‘Let us also retire. I am absolutely exhausted.’ (Y/N) said and indeed she looked like her will alone was keeping her upright.

‘Yes, I’m sure that kind of dancing used up all your energy.’ Ivar agreed and soon they began their journey to their newly shared chamber.

‘I enjoyed dancing to your heart beat. It beats in alignment with my own.’ she remarked as they entered.

Inside they were met with their respective servants who must have brought in their things before joining the feast, as all their things were now properly in place in the chamber.

To Ivar’s surprise and delight the princess sent them both away.

Occasionally on the journey the princess would feel very affectionate and would like to undress Ivar herself; it was another thing he came to rely on while they shared space on the ship.

He would always eagerly offer to undress her in return, she would graciously accept and they would lie in each other’s arms as they slept through the night.

Tonight, however, she was more slow in removing his tunic than she usually did and he could tell by the distanced look in her eye as her hands moved that her mind was not truly in this moment.

‘I will not be at your side when you wake my love.’ she said as she discarded the clothing.

‘How long will your hunt last?’

‘As long as it takes, after the hunt is complete I will be taken to the Skinner's hut to fashion the cloak alone. Every three days a hunting party will be sent after me, if I were to forfeit, they would escort me back safely. In which case I will have failed, and we would not have the blessing of the Great and Many.’

‘Then we would not marry.’ Ivar concluded.

A pregnant silence set in over the two of them as they undressed and remained even as they lay in each other's arms.

‘Can I make a request for my cloak?’ Ivar said at last.

‘Of course.’

‘Something warm. I will want to wear it often and the weather back home is not as nice as this.’ he said with a smile.

He hoped she understood what he was saying between his words; prayed she understood that he had confidence she would succeed and they would marry.

Ivar only needed to meet her watering eyes to know she did understand him, and more than anything else she needed his confidence in her.

‘I’ve trained since the day Sven left with his party, and I am even bold enough to call myself a warrior, but I have never hunted alone.’ she confessed.

‘I had never known true combat until our Matrimonial Fight.’ Ivar returned.

He was surprised that she looked so surprised.

‘Are you trying to console me?’ the princess accused.

‘I am being truthful. Sure on occasion my brothers include me in a bit of roughhousing, or I may even initiate a scuffle but they are never actually aiming to overtake me. Our fights are never true.’ Ivar replied.

‘I knew when I fought with you there would be no holding back on your part, you fought me as an equal and you hit where it hurt.’

The princess’s accusing eyes softened before she hid her face in his chest.

‘I did apologize. ‘ she yawned sleepily.

‘Nothing to forgive, I loved it. I loved fighting you, watching how skilled you are, seeing that look in your eyes as you look for a new place to aim. And if you hunt as well as you fight I imagine I won’t be waiting a full week.’ Ivar encouraged.

Ivar whispered soft assurances and praises until he heard her soft snores, and even still he kept silently praising her, hoping that his Gods would hear his love for her and give her protection.

As he himself finally fell into slumber he even hoped the Great and Many would watch over her as well.

When Ivar woke up he had known (Y/N) wouldn’t be there, but he was still disappointed by her absence.

A small pebble was suddenly thrown into the room, noisily hitting the floor.

‘I am awake, Trya.’ Ivar sighed as he sat up to see his thrall entering the princess’s chamber holding a Tunisian shield.

‘My Prince, did you not sleep well? Should I call for the healers?’ the woman asked, the concern for his legs showing on her face.

‘My legs are no worse than I can handle, and my sleep was sound.’ he assured her as she began to dress him.

‘You have gotten used to her being there.’ Trya realized, but immediately she went red with embarrassment at her impulsive speaking.

‘I’m sorry Prince Ivar.’ she said quickly.

‘No need to apologize when you are right, if anything I should apologize in advance for my bad mood while she is away.’

‘If I may say, I think she will return sooner than you think and with a noble animal fur just for you. In the meantime there is a beautiful village to explore and such wonderful people to meet.’ Trya offered.

Ivar knew the old woman was simply trying to cheer him up, and she was even right; but he found little comfort in her words as he left the room on his crutches.

Just as he began to wonder where he should go without (Y/N) to guide him through the unfamiliar palace, one of her servants, Kya, rounded a corner and approached him.

‘Meal before.’ she mumbled in broken Norse.

‘We are in your homeland, no need to speak a foreign language for my sake.’ he said in perfect Derja.

The girl let out a sigh of relief and began speaking in her mother language.

‘It is time for first meal, I will take you to the great hall .’ she said, her tone very confident and proper in her own dialect, before leading him through the labyrinth of halls.

Ivar was led into a large room where both royal families were sitting on the floor in a circle, all of them eating some type of bread and dipping it into something steaming hot from their bowls.

‘Ivar you must try this porridge, their spices are so flavorful.’ Hvitserk said as Ivar lowered himself down as gracefully as he could.

‘I must agree, we will definitely be trading a great deal of spices in the near future.’ Ragnar agreed, his own bowl nearly empty before Ivar had even received his portion.

The flavor of the porridge was very strong and delicious, and the bread was more grainy than the bread back home.

‘It is delicious.’ Ivar complimented as he ate with a bit more vigor.

After all, he had a long journey on the ship and had drank far too much at the feast.

‘I’m sure if my future daughter in law were here she would be flattered.’ Aslaug said, surprising everyone.

‘(Y/N) made this meal?’ Ivar asked, truly questioning how his mother knew this.

His mother sat aside her now empty bowl and looked at him in earnest, as she always had. As if she hadn’t ignored him from the moment he decided to sail here.

‘I was unable to sleep through your father’s snoring so I had a servant show me around the palace. The princess was in the kitchens, helping the cooks as they prepared her rations and first meal. We had a talk.’ the Norse Queen answered.

Ivar sent a look to his brothers, who looked equally as stunned, even his father had wide eyes.

Every word she just said went against everything they knew about their mother. Aslaug was often so drunk she could sleep through the harshest winter storm, she despised watching thralls work, and in all their lives they had never seen her set foot in any kitchen.

It hadn’t been a convenient coincidence, Ivar was certain his mother had snuck out of bed in the wee hours to speak to (Y/N) privately before her departure.

However, if anyone was waiting on Aslaug to explain her conversation with the princess, they were disappointed when she went back to her wine in silence.

‘Well then, what will you all like to do today?’ King Akashi asked the Norse royals.

‘We would like to walk through your markets. Your daughter tells us it was her most important duty as a child. The concept is both foreign and intriguing to all of us, plus we are eager to see in person the beautiful kingdom that raised our new princess.’ Ragnar replied.

‘Excellent, I shall give them a tour.’ Prince Ayo beamed as he stood excitedly.

‘Sit down.’ the queen said in a quiet but stern tone, the kind that came only from mothers and queens; and considering that she was both, her tone was truly powerful.

The child prince sighed in his defeat and sat back down on the floor.

‘You are not old enough yet my son, and you are not far enough along in your studies to walk the village and converse with the people. Until then you will spend your day with your tutors.’ the king said, seeing the upset on his son’s face.

‘I will send a servant to escort you through the markets, she will meet you at the castle gate.’

‘If I may.’ Ivar spoke up, politely asking to speak directly to the royal family, something (Y/N) had informed him was considered extremely polite.

The queen looked at him with a raised eyebrow before nodding her approval.

‘As my father has said, we are all eager to see your markets and kingdom today, but may I join the young prince with his tutors tomorrow?’

Now the queen was downright studying him, her gaze alone making the cripple straighten up his posture.

‘You wish to study here?’ she asked.

‘I have a great thirst for knowledge, like our All Father Odin, who traded his eye for it. It seems I already traded my legs at birth.’Ivar smiled charmingly, making a humorous face at the prince, who let out a small breath of laughter.

The queen smiled, seemingly against her better judgment.

‘Yes you may join the lessons tomorrow, I will have Bintu accompany you both to the library together tomorrow. She seems to want to get acquainted with you better.’ Queen Aza agreed.

‘Are you close with Bintu as well?’ Sigurd asked.

‘Of course, I personally chose Bintu to protect my daughter. She was my closest friend as a girl, had I ever chosen to propose a Matrimonial Fight she would be my instructor.’

‘I must say, while there are so many fascinating customs in your country, the one that fascinates me the most is your approach to your inferiors.’ Aslaug confessed.

‘No no no. I have no inferiors, my Queen Sister. I am Queen and I am the highest authority, but there isn’t one subject in all my kingdom that is inferior to me. Do you know how most commoners address queens in this country?’ the Tunisian Queen questioned.

When none of the Norse answered she smiled to herself.

‘Queen Mother; that is how I am addressed by every single one of my subjects. Queen to show me their respect, and Mother to show their love. Of course now the title is more than fitting.’ she explained, rubbing the roundness of her belly.

‘I may not know you well, Queen Sister, but I feel that the title was well earned. For I have never seen so many happy commoners, and I have certainly never met a young woman more amazing than your daughter. Truly you are Queen Mother, if I may, I’d like to accompany you today. I have been a Queen almost as long as I have been a Mother, but I am not blind to my shortcomings. I would like to learn from you, Queen Aza.’ Aslaug requested, her eyes never leaving the other woman’s.

At this Ragnar had to cover his mouth to silence his own gasp; Ivar was happy they were already sitting on the floor, had they been in chairs he is certain his brothers would have all fallen out of them in shock.

Years and years, all their lives, they all sat watching their mother drink away her affections and love for anyone other than Ivar. They had stopped expecting her love before they had even gotten their armrings. They never in their wildest dreams thought she cared enough to notice their disappointment in her as a mother.

Ivar looked over at his brothers and surely enough each of them had different expressions of shock.

Ubbe looked as if he simply couldn’t process what he’d heard, Hvitserk had dropped the grainy bread into his nearly empty bowl, Sigurd was wide eyed and his face was becoming red.

‘I would love your company, Queen Aslaug. In fact, I am quite done with first meal. I will await you in the throne room. I will send for Kya to accompany the rest of you through the markets.’ Aza said before holding out her hand to her husband.

King Akashi, who had been silently eating the last of his own meal while observing his guest, set aside his empty bowl and helped the queen rise to her feet.

The Tunisians bid their farewells, instructed a servant girl to give them a tour of the markets and departed.

As soon as the retreating footsteps could no longer be heard all eyes fell on Queen Aslaug, who had met their eyes confidently.

‘Do not look so stunned, have you not all wished for a better mother? A better woman to sit beside your great father on the throne? As I have no intention of losing my status, I must improve; at least that is the advice I was given.’ she said in Norse.

‘Why did you seek her out? You have been spiteful to all of us since the fight; you ignored us all nearly completely since she suggested sailing here.’ Ubbe asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

The hint of accusation was still noticed by his mother.

‘I had no ill intention, my son, I only meant to see her before she left for her hunt. A servant led me to the kitchens and there she was gathering her rations, we spoke and she left.’

‘What did you say to her?’ Ivar asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

‘She spoke to me, and I saw what about her you love. She is intelligent, wise and almost annoyingly well spoken. Though she hasn’t seen one of your fits yet, Ivar, I’m sure she will be able to control even your rage.’

The princes all looked between each other, wondering if the others believed a word of this; even Ragnar had been studying his wife to see if there were any visible signs of deception.

‘Mother, she is going on a hunt, alone, I don’t even know what kind of animals they have here. I need you to tell me with conviction that you did not upset her before she left to do something so dangerous.’ he was pleading with his mother.

Aslaug stood from the floor and looked around at her family.

‘I do not know why I sought her out, I don’t know what I wanted to say to her. I know what she said to me. That she can see the weeds of hate growing in all of your eyes when you look my way. That your frowns deepen when I speak to you directly no matter what I say…and now I can see how right she was.’ Aslaug said with a truly hurt expression painting her face.

‘You think I would be so spiteful to try and sabotage her hunt Ivar? Even you? It seems I have been far worse a mother than I thought.’ she said, her voice beginning to shake as her eyes misted.

Before Ivar had a chance to let the guilt take hold of his heart fully his mother had turned and left the rest of them to their now unappealing bowls of porridge.

The room was quiet, everyone needed to digest more than the food; Aslaug’s words had left a bitter taste in their mouths.

‘Do you believe her?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Of course not, she has been wretched since she birthed us, that doesn’t change after one talk.’ Sigurd dismissed with irritation.

‘She seemed upset, maybe she does regret the way she raised us.’ Ubbe said in her defense.

‘How could you think so, Ubbe? What raising did we get from her? It was while she was meant to be raising us that you and Hvitserk fell through ice and nearly died. In her “care” Bjorn lost his first daughter! The only time the truth comes out of her mouth is when she knows it will hurt.’ Sigurd spat angrily.

‘She is your mother, Sigurd. You owe her your life and respect.’ Ragnar said, a hint of a warning in his tone.

The circle was tense now, despite the fragility of their marriage Aslaug was still Ragnar’s wife and not many Viking men allow their wives to be insulted in their presence.

‘I had no say in who my mother was Father, did I? Even still you are right, I owe her respect…just as she owes us her love, but unfortunately for her I no longer want it.’ Sigurd replied just as stubborn as he had been as a child as he stood up.

‘I will wait at the gate for the escort.’ he said formally before leaving.

Ivar watched Sigurd in a mixture of annoyance and understanding, no one could deny that Sigurd had been the most hurt by Aslaug’s neglect growing up. He was always the one to interrupt their chess games to ask if they could have a walk all together, and he was always turned away.

‘I know your mother was…is a hard woman to understand and that it was hard growing up when I would sail away, but I know her. For better or worse I can read that woman’s heart like fresh carved runes, and I think she is being genuine. Now if you excuse me, I believe I need to have a private conversation with my son.’ Ragnar sighed tiredly before he followed Sigurd.

‘What do you think, Ivar?’ Ubbe asked his youngest brother.

‘I think…my betrothed did speak with her, and I think the conversation went more or less the same way she says it does. What I don’t know is if she is accepting that conversation as a friendly warning or a threat.’

‘You think she would sabotage (Y/N)’s hunt?’ Hvitserk asked in shock.

‘At first I will admit I did think her capable of it, but in my heart I know that isn’t like her. I know I should have no say in it seeing how she doted on me, but she has never gone out of her way to hurt any one of us. I don’t think she ever would.’ Ivar answered honestly.

‘He is right, Mother never cared enough to be cruel to us, sure she poured love onto Ivar, but Ivar is going to marry. Who will be there for her to pour on to? Ragnar?’ Ubbe said strategically, as if he were discussing a battle in a war room, not his own mother.

‘So she wants our love now that Ivar has his own woman.’ Hvitserk realized.

The room fell into one last long silence before Hvitserk noisily slurped down the very last of porridge in his bowl and stood up.

‘Well,I’m flattered to finally be worth her affections, however, what she does will have no true effect on me, but I will not discourage her efforts.’ The middle son declared before he too left.

‘What about you Ubbe? Do you still long for Mother’s love?’ Ivar asked.

‘You know, I remember the day we fell through the ice.’ Ubbe said, surprising Ivar.

Neither Ubbe or Hvitserk ever spoke about that terrible day, no matter how strategically he and Sigurd asked about it growing up; and they had asked quite often back then.

‘We had followed mother and Harbard, because why not, it was too cold for fishing obviously and we were too young to hunt back then. They went into a hut and we went to get a closer look but there was a noise…a calling so inviting and pleasant it carried us away.’

Ivar didn’t want to reply and pull his brother out of his sharing mood so he just listened and let Ubbe speak freely. He had never seen his eldest brother look so lost in his own mind while talking before, it seemed as if he was doing more than remembering. He was there all over again, a small boy out exploring with his brother on a winter's day.

‘It promised such fun and we were so excited we didn’t realize how far we had walked, but we did notice when the snowy grass became ice beneath our feet, but the call assured us and on we walked further out on the ice. Siggy, do you remember her?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Of course, Rollo’s wife.’ Ivar provided.

‘She was a kind woman to us, mother often left us in her care and she had seen us on the lake, she tried to call out for us but what was her small far away voice to a call only we could hear? A call that must have been from the Gods? She chased after us but it was too late, the ice cracked and the call stopped as soon as we fell into the freezing water.’

Ubbe seemed to not even see Ivar sitting across from him anymore, he was lost in the memory of coldness.

‘The water was so much colder than the ice had been, or at least that’s how it felt, cold all over my body, cold water in the lungs. In that cold do you know what I thought, Ivar?’

Ivar shook his head no, and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘I want my mother.’ Ubbe said softly, leaning in closer, as if this was his most precious secret.

‘I wanted to feel the warmth of her embrace and for her to whisper soothing words into my ear to assure me I would not be forced out of Midgard so soon. I even thought maybe she’d heard my silent cries and rescued us, but it was only Siggy pulling us out of the ice. Harbard was there, and she managed to give us to him before her own life was taken by that cold water. After Harbard had brought us to Mother she asked him to heal us and once he had she sent us off to bed for rest…without ever touching us.’

Ivar, who of course saw that his mother showed him more love than his brothers, was stunned by just how cold the woman had truly been to her other children.

As Ivar chewed over his rapid change in family dynamics his bride to be was walking vast dry hunting grounds.

She was brought some comfort in the fact she wasn’t in completely new territory. She had gone on at least a dozen hunts in this area. Of course those hunts had been with full hunting parties of at least ten.

Hunting in large groups was a common practice throughout the world because the simple fact was that there is power in numbers. More hunters mean more game can be caught, and the hunters had a stronger sense of security knowing that there would be more people able to watch their blind spots in case of predator attacks.

More than that, for (Y/N) at least, hunting in a group simply made the experience of hunting much more pleasant. She remembers talking with the others as they walked for hours to the waterhole where most game favored to drink and bathe.

Now she was alone and could not afford any such pleasantries. She had to keep her ears and eyes sharp, there was no one there to assist her in spotting anything that may be lying in wait.

Another benefit of hunting parties, she had come to understand quickly, was that it entailed more provisions. She had a large canteen of water that weighed heavily on her hip, but she knew it would be all she had until she reached the water hole.

And that was a half day’s journey and as heavy as it felt the canteen only had so much water inside. So she ignored the dryness of her mouth, resigned not to drink until the sun was fully in the sky.

Along with her water canteen she had a variety of tools and rope to make shelter, her father’s blade, an ax, twenty ready made arrows to go with the bow she carried by hand and a fortnight's worth of food in the pack she had on her back. One fortnight’s worth of food.

One fortnight worth of food.

One fortnight, that is two weeks.

Two weeks is fourteen days.

She repeated these things mentally every mile or so, she was determined to keep track of the time. If she allowed herself to lose her senses she could find herself out here alone with nothing to eat, no water and no choice but to wait for the rescue party.

No. Even if it did come to that she would refuse to return, and that would mean staying not only to hunt for a beast but also hunting to survive.

The thought of scavenging for berries in the dry lands was almost as discouraging as the thought of wasting arrows on smaller prey before finding her true target.

Whatever that target may be; she thought guiltily.

She had promised Ivar a grand cloak worthy of his Gods but she had no idea what that even meant yet alone what animal she would hunt. Luckily the water hole would be sure to have a variety of beasts to choose from.

After what she guessed had been four hours the sun was finally shining at its highest point in the sky. She took the canteen from her side and took a singular large swallow of cool water before closing it off again, but she held the container to her forehead to feel the coolness of the water inside.

It had to be at least noon now, that meant about six more hours until she was at the water hole, but that would mean arriving at by nightfall and that wasn’t wise. She would have to stop and make her shelter for the night.

A large cluster of boulders and a tiny cluster of palm oil trees in the distance told her she had in fact remembered the path from her previous hunts.

The rocks were where her hunting party usually sought shelter. The formation of the boulders created a sort of rocky valley and with wood and leaves from the trees a roof and walls can be fashioned.

(Y/N) took special care in looking around for any signs of a predator before she removed her pack and dug out some dried biltong and a piece of plantain bread.

She kept alert as she ate quickly, wanting to make sure she didn’t stay here long enough to be found by any thing, but she also wanted to savor the chewiness of the antelope meat, and the bread was so filling on her empty stomach it felt as warm as an embrace.

Once the last of the bread had been eaten (Y/N) picked up her pack again and continued on, still chewing the last bite of biltong, trying to extend the longevity of its flavor and the mere illusion of eating. After she had finally resigned to swallow the over chewed meat she again took a single drink from her canteen, this time only a sip as it was less about true thirst and more a desire to wash down her brief meal.

The further she walked the more she thought over her plans for when she reached the boulders.

First she would find the best spot in between the rocks that required the least amount of material to fortify. Then she would go and gather the wood and palm leaves to make the roofing and walls, after that she would go again to the trees for firewood to keep her warm once night fell.

She tried not to get too comfortable or confident but so far she was pleased with her progress. She had yet to come across so much as an antelope so far and if there were no prey animals near her that meant the chances of predators were much lower.

Of course that also meant if she did encounter a hungry meat eater it would probably be extremely eager to eat the first thing it found.

With that in mind she kept her grip firm on her bow as she pushed on.

It was when she was only about an hour away from her destination that she heard a rustling in the grass behind her that was too isolated and sudden to have been wind.

With an alarming quickness she pulled an arrow from her pack and raised her bow, aiming at the direction of the noise.

It was quiet again, but she was certain she’d heard something and she wasn’t going to turn around or move on until she found and killed whatever had made that sound.

She focused her gaze and scanned through the tall yellow grass for anything out of place. She kept a special look out for spots and stripes; this was big cat territory.

A final second of quiet passed before finally the grass rustled again, and this time she had seen exactly where the grass moved.

Without hesitation she released the arrow and several things seemed to happen all at once to her.

Of course things had happened one at a time, and they happened in this exact order.

First; the arrow flew like lightning into the tall grass, second; a loud pitiful roar cut through the air, and thirdly a lion had leapt out of its hiding place.

With no small amount of fear and an even larger amount of alarm the princess readied another arrow and began back stepping, she knew better than to turn her back to this beast.

Now that it was out of the tallest grass she could see it was a truly pathetic thing. Its mane was shaggy and matted, several scabby bald patches that had been licked raw from over grooming littered his back legs and it was so unsightly thin even in her panic she could see its protruding rib cage.

Her arrow stuck out of its left front leg in a vulgar way as it tried weakly to chase her down, but already her fear was subsiding.

Even as she backed away to put distance between her and the lion so that she could have a clear clean shot, (Y/N) could see that the arrow wasn’t the only thing slowing down her attacker.

Yes it limped on its injured front leg, but it made a huffing whimpering noise every time his right hind leg hit the ground. Clearly something had tussled with this frail thing before she had and it seemed that unknown creature had done her a great kindness.

Once she was confident in the distance between them she released the second arrow and watched it land true as it sunk into the lion's skull and the weak body fell into the dirt with a soft thud.

A final breath escaped its mouth and sent up a small cloud in the dry dirt it now laid lifelessly upon.

With the beast taken down she found herself breathing hard, her adrenaline still racing as she approached it.

Up close she could better inspect it to see if this had been it, if this could be THE beast.

However, no amount of optimism could allow her to overlook the matted shabby dark mane, the many bald patches she could see in the lion’s coat or the clearly visible bites they exposed.

No, this wouldn’t even be worth skinning, not for her husband's cloak, but still leaving it here was not an option, it would attract scavengers and most of those were pack animals. So she took out her ax and made quick work of dismembering the lion and then did her best to wrap the remains in the blanket she intended to sleep under.

It was too heavy to lift alone so she attached the sack to a rope and dragged it the rest of the way to the boulders. By the time she had reached her destination her legs and arms were more sore than they had ever been in all her years of training, but she didn't stop to rest.

Just as she had planned she found a small rectangular spot that was perfectly spaced between two boulders that stood twice as high as she did. There she sat the lion sack before she went to fetch the wood and palm leaves. The sun would be setting soon and she would not be out in the open with a fresh kill at her side when it happened.

She chopped and dragged long branches for one hour, then she fashioned two walls about one foot taller than herself using rope to tie the branches together, tying the leaves together to keep out the wind. She installed her walls by burying the branches in the dirt making sure they were firmly planted. The roof was easier to make since she had to leave a spot open for smoke to escape.

Finally, just as she had tied the last bit of rope securing the roof to the walls the sun was beginning to set. She made her final trip to the grove of trees for firewood and quickly returned to her newly built shelter.

Her fire was burning strong as the sun set, but she did not lay down, she sat beside the fire watching the flames as she thought one thing over and over.

What beast was worthy of Ivar the Boneless?

[som3thingcr3ative]

Voluspa Part 5

It’s HERE!!!!!!! I promised a new chapter, and I have delivered. This one is a little slower, but things will pick up veeeery soon, I just needed to get some backstory in, some life in characters. 

(side note, this looks longer on my google docs...the next one will be longer and sooner, I promise.)

synopsis: Astrid is welcomed to the feast and to Kattegat. She meets a new ally and settles into her new home, enjoying the attentions of a certain Viking King. 

warnings: mentions of suicide, drinking, slavery. 

previously: 

“I have seen it,” I say, raising my chin just a tad. My fingers leave Einar’s fur and relax at my side. No fear. “The gods have shown me.”“

“I like this one,” Ivar muses, leaning forward once again, his eyes on me. “You are welcome here, Astrid. So long as your loyalties remain true, you are my honored guest. Welcome to Kattegat!”

PART 1 2 3 4 5 6

That night, I can relax. Old Norse takes no effort for me; it comes as naturally as any language to a native speaker, which allows my efforts to shift toward containing a disturbing number of prophecies from slipping out of my mouth. Normally, if I were to prophesy, it would be in Old Norse around english speaking people- seen as nothing more than a character quirk, but around Vikings, the prophecy would be chilling. I would be avoided at all costs if one wanted to keep their sanity. 

So for the small blessing of control, I am thankful. 

There is good ale (a bit weak compared to beer, but still enough to loosen the tongue), good food (without all of the hormones and hassle of my previous home), and good company. Vikings share their stories of raids and victories- and with enough ale, their defeats. Only once do I think of Damon; of how he would love to hear these stories from living history itself- so I chug the ale in my cup and get a refill from the blushing (and very thankful) servant girl whose arse I’d saved earlier, all thoughts of my brother banished. I learn that her name is Rita, that she was captured from what is to be France, and that by giving her the distraction needed to clean up and act as if nothing had happened, I’d spared her a great deal of pain. 

An idea blossoms. I turn to Ivar who sits to my right. “My king, could I pay you for this servant girl? I wish for her to be my handmaiden.”

Ivar’s eyes barely glance over the girl. He smiles at me and waves a hand. “You are my guest, Astrid. There is no need to pay me for her; she is yours.”

I grin at him and bow my head just briefly. “I am grateful, my King.” He nods and turns back to his food and his conversation with Ubbe while I smile at the girl. 

“Well Rita, it appears you will not suffer any more punishments. From now on, you are under my protection.” 

Rita’s jaw drops. In old french, I add “as my handmaiden, you will be given a great deal of freedom- all I ask is that you do not lie to me or plot behind my back.”

“Yes, my lady!” She replies in enthusiastic french. “Thank you so much, my lady!”

“Go get yourself cleaned up-” I hand her a small coin ‘borrowed’ from a drunken Jarl encountered on the journey here. “And get some new clothes. You are a handmaiden now, it’s best you look like it.” 

She turns the coin over and over between dirty fingers, her eyes wide. Finally she nods to me and scampers off, grinning like a fool. I allow myself a victorious smile and take a sip of ale. 

Only a few minutes pass before Ivar turns to me, at Ubbe’s goading. 

“You are certainly a puzzle, Astrid.” He comments, eyeing me. “I am told you rode here on a stallion with no tack- and then carried your own bags to this hall where you proceeded to single-handedly beat three men.” He glances down at Einar who is draped over my feet, crunching away at a cow femur. “With a wolf, no less.”

“I assure you, my King, it is quite the story.”

“Ivar.” He smiles. “No need for pleasantries, you are my guest.”

Another small smile. A gracious tip of my head. “Ivar,” I correct. “If you have the time, perhaps I could tell you?”

He raises his mug, signalling a servant to serve him more ale. Once the cup is full, he sips at it, eyes never leaving me. “I have all the time in the world.” 

My brows lift. I take a swig of ale, making a show of it. He laughs. 

“It’s one of those stories, is it?”

I grin. “It all started nineteen years ago, when my mother pushed me out of her body screaming and covered in blood…

My childhood was a pleasant one, by most accounts. I had a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on the table. When I was three, my father died. As the first born, I inherited his ability to sense...things. Things that I shouldn’t have known. Things that, for a while, drove me crazy. I scared people. One man jumped off of a cliff because I told him his wife would die by his hands if he did not kill himself first. He believed me because I had been right before- another man had a baby girl- I told him that he would have an accident and kill his child, but he scoffed at me. One day he was carrying his child through the house when he tripped, sending the baby flying. She landed on her head and broke her neck, just like that. He killed himself two days later. 

We moved away. Packed up everything we had and left. My mother trained me to hold those prophecies in, to keep them from hurting anyone, so instead they hurt me. I look at someone and I know how they will die. I know the defining moments of their life and their worst mistakes. And I keep all of that bottled up inside of me. 

So I started fresh. I turned to animals instead of people. Animals do not expect things of you. They want to give and receive love, they do not judge or place blame. They do not envy or betray. If you trust them and give them reason to trust you, they will be there for you, no matter what. The best part is, I can’t see their whole life mapped out before me. I can’t know exactly what to do to change their whole path, their entire fate. It is a weight off of my shoulders. 

I helped bring Hvardr, my stallion into this world. His mother orphaned him, so I made sure he was fed. I cared for him, and when he grew, I trained him to trust me and only me. He will buck anyone else off of him. If someone tries to restrain him in any way, he will hurt them- maybe even kill them. But not me. 

Einar was barely a month old when I found him strung up in a trap. I helped him heal- and I tried to keep him wild- I really did. He’s stubborn, though, so when he chose me, there wasn’t a thing I could do to say no. Here we are eight seasons later. 

I never found love, I never had those firsts so many women have. I am not like others. I am different. And because of that difference, I see things in a totally different light. This gift is a blessing and a curse- and sometimes I wish I were normal, or that my younger brother had it, not me, but then I realize that everything I am and everything I have is because of what makes me different. 

I would not be who I am if I were the same as everyone else. 

~

Rita finds me in my room that night, shortly after the feast ended. Her hair is in a loose braid, nothing too complicated while still showing her stature. Cleaned up, I can see that she is actually quite pretty, in a youthful way. No more than fourteen or fifteen summers, if I had to guess. 

Her life flashes before my eyes in quick bursts, defining moments and tragedy lasting a brief second longer than the rest until I see her death- and I know instantly how to treat her. I smile at her, eyeing her new dress. She blushes, grinning at the floor. 

“You look beautiful,” I tell her, speaking in Old French. “Like a princess.”

“Thank you, m’lady.” She ducks her head, showing respect. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You can extinguish that torch over there, Rita. I’m quite tired from the day’s events. Oh, and I had them bring in an extra bed. I know it’s not much, but… well it’s yours.” 

Her eyes widen as she looks over at the bed. It has two furs on it for the cold night, a few feet away from my own bed. Our beds take up only about half the space in the room Ivar was kind enough to lend to me. 

“Thank you, m’lady!” She says, holding a hand to her chest as she stares at the bed. I know that it is more than she’s probably ever had- first as a frankish peasant and then as a slave, a bed to her is a luxury she’d only dreamed of. I hope she can sleep, knowing for myself the difficulty of sleeping on a bed after more than a few nights on the floor. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her, moving to cover myself with a fur. “Good night, and sleep well.” Behind me, I can hear her move to the solitary torch burning against the far wall. Einar, curled against my legs, watches her carefully as she walks to her bed and gets comfortable. He is still wary of her, but is slowly warming up to the idea of another person sleeping close to him. 

tag list:  All Ivar tag: @inforapound​ @amy8220 @sallydelys​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg​

Voluspa: @tis-itheapplepie​ @thetwistedqueen @inforapound @wuxiesalt @readsalot73​ @themusingkitten @youbloodymadgenius

[grungyblonde]

Your King

Part II

Read Part I here

“Who is that? That girl walking with King Ubbe?”

The old woman looked up from her work, rolling her eyes when she saw that you were the woman in question. “Oh her. That’s the King’s favorite slave.” She sneered slightly as she went back to her goods, “I suppose bed slave would be a better word for her. All she does is warm the king’s bed and look pretty while she serves him his dinner.”

“Lucky girl,” the patron mused.

“I suppose. She’s still nothing more than his plaything. His pet.”

***

“I still don’t why he insists on you serving! You’re inefficient, clumsy and stupid!”

You tried to keep your eyes from welling up with tears as the cook threw more items on to your shaking tray, frantically trying to prepare Ubbe’s dinner.

“Oh but the king thinks you’re pretty so of course none of that matters!” The cook snapped, talking to herself more than you. “So you get all the easiest jobs. While we sweat doing all the real work!”

“I’m sorry, miss,” you mumble as the cook shoves you in the direction of the feasting hall, nearly making you lose your footing.

“He only likes her because she’s dumb and obedient,” you hear one of the younger kitchen thralls whisper meanly as you walk out the door. “She probably lets him do whatever he wants and with that dumb smile on her face too.”

“Oh shut up, Asha!” The cooks shouts at the thrall, making you smile just a bit. The bossy cook was hateful to you but she was just as hateful to all the other slaves.

It had been nearly a month since Ubbe had...claimed you. True to his word, you no longer scrubbed floors or shoveled horse shit. You didn’t sleep on a bed of straw out in the barn, but instead in a tiny, warm room not far from the Ubbe’s own quarters. Although, most nights you slept in the king’s bed, wrapped in fine furs that you still couldn’t quite get used to.

He was kind to you...in his way. You remembered the night he had taken your virginity, how soft and gentle he was. How he reassured you how good you were doing, how good you felt. And then how he demanded more from you, thrusting into your body with a rougher stroke. His touches were still comforting and his whispers full of praise but also dominance as you started to squirm and moan, unused to being taken like that.

“My King! It’s too much,” you gasped as your body instinctively tried to twist away from his punishing rhythm.

Ubbe’s heavy breath was in your ear, soothing you, but he continued on with the buck of his hips.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his hand encompassing the side of your face as he held you still. He rutted even deeper but the friction of his pelvis against yours actually made it more bearable. And then so pleasurable.

“Ohh,” you gasped as your body responded to his. You couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried. Ubbe pulled his face back to watch your reaction, the sight of it making his own breath hard to catch. “Ohh!” Your back arched and your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and you felt like this feeling wasn’t fit for a lowly slave and you also didn’t care. Not in that moment.

You think you might have seen him smile when you managed to open your eyes but then his own were closing and he was fucking you so hard that you were sure others would hear the harsh slapping of skin. You were just thankful that the aftershocks of your climax had loosened your body and you were able to gladly receive his increasingly frantic thrusts.

With a throaty groan into your hair, Ubbe plowed into you one last time, sinking as deep as possible as he released himself. He laid like that for a moment more, trying to catch his breath as you stroked his back softly. And then with a final quick kiss to your neck, he pulled himself out and rolled over on his back.

“What is your name, slavegirl?”

Your face blushed hot as you entered the serving hall and your eyes met King Ubbe’s piercing blue ones. Quickly, you cast your gaze to the floor, choosing to watch your feet instead.

“Ale, my King?” You asked meekly as you set the platter down on the smooth wood of the table.

You peeked up to see his the corner of his lip twitch upward, obviously enjoying your shyness. He lifted his cup up to you and you felt his hand creep up the back of your covered thigh as you began to pour.

He was accompanied by his usual advisor, an older man with a stern brown who let nothing escape him. You glanced over to him to find him blank faced. “Ale?” You asked him as well.

He brushed you off, instead trying to capture the king’s attention. “Earl Arvid has sent word that he will arrive in two weeks time.”

“Hmm.” Ubbe was still focused on you, his nimble fingers now creeping up your leg to rest on your backside. “That’s good.”

“He speaks of an arrangement.”

Ubbe’s hand squeezed your ass a little more firmly and you suppressed a gasp at his outward display of...affection? No. Lust, maybe. It’s not like he had anything to be ashamed of or that the aging man before you could say anything. Ubbe was king. It was within his right to enjoy the luxuries that came with that title.

“An arrangement?” He asked distractedly.

The advisor cleared his throat as Ubbe pulled you a bit closer, almost into his lap. “It was a bit cryptic. But we should be prepared to receive the earl and negotiate whatever accommodations. We should really discuss...privately…”

Ubbe looked back in amusement. “You believe my own slave would repeat our business?”

The older man’s face flushed. “Of course not. I just mean…without distractions.”

Ubbe sighed and directed you towards the door with a slight slap to your ass. “Come back in a while with the main course.”

***

You did as you were told, careful to stay out of the cook’s way as more preparations were made. Once again you were pushed out of the kitchen with a new platter, heavier than the last. And when you made your way back to Ubbe you were careful not to stumble and fall over the threshold into the Hall.

But fall you did.

You weren’t quite sure what happened but one moment your feet were firmly on stone and then the next they were caught on the same invisible magic they always seemed to snag. Cursed by the Gods.

Your mind registered the burn as the steaming sauce escaped the bowl and splattered up your forearm. The dishes clattered to the ground, devastating your ears as they broke upon impact.

You heard your king’s heavy boots on the ground, long strides carrying him to you. He knelt beside you, rag already in hand to wipe the burning liquid away.

“No, no my king. You shouldn’t-“

“Hush.” His voice was firm and final and you didn’t dare say another word as he tended to the mess you had made of yourself. His touch was gentle as he wiped your skin, moving your burnt arm this way and that way like you were a child. He dampened the rag to soothe your skin and just for a moment you let yourself imagine that this is what it felt like to be a free woman, a woman who was loved and cared for.

“It’s not too bad,” he comforted as he inspected the burn on your arm. “You should really be more careful.”

You tried to pull back, now embarrassed by your clumsiness. “I’m sorry. They were right to tell me I shouldn’t serve you. It’s a disgrace.”

Ubbe chuckled as you rambled, only half listening as the words of apology poured from your mouth. He grasped your waist and helped you to your feet effortlessly. “Quit apologizing. The other servants know nothing. I like a pretty face to pour my drink. You’ll learn.”

“Yes master,” you whispered, trying not to smile at his compliment.

“I have bandages in my room. Go and I’ll be there in a moment.”

“No,” you went back to protesting, more fervently now. “My duties-”

“Your duty is to me, your king, and I’m telling you to go get fixed up and rest,” he tilted you chin up to him, forcing you to see that he meant his word was final.

“The other thralls will-”

“I’m not going to tell you again. Go to my room. Now.” Something burned behind his eyes and for the first time in a while you feared punishment  for disobedience. And besides that, you would do anything to please your king.

“Yes master.”

@lisinfleur @ceridwenofwales @laketaj24@whenimaunicorn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @akamaiden@honestsycrets @equalstrashflavoredtrash@givemesmutorgivemedeath @greennightspider @ivarsshieldmadien@tephi101 @anarchy-is-coming @redheadedtrollop @lol-haha-joke@therealcalicali @shieldmaiden25 @oddsnendsfanfics @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @pokeasleepingsmaug @missrobyn81@squirrelacorngliterfarts @lupy22 @ivaraddict @emsry14@courtrae89 @hallowed-heathen @tis-itheapplepie@dangerousvikings @disneyimaginings @directionlessbuthappy @honestsycrets @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @hvitserksbitch

[syriul]

A Time Traveler in Viking Court - part 12/?

How are we going to get out of this one now? You asked yourself as Ivar led you and Kyle to the center of a small crowd made up of displaced Viking men, women, and children. The size of the crowd was surprising-- Kattegat was home to at least a few thousand people, so why were there only a hundred people here?

“What do you think happened to everyone else?” Kyle voiced your thoughts as he leaned in, making sure no one else heard him. 

“I don’t know. Maybe they're over there,” you motioned towards the woods that surrounded the sizable clearing where multiple tents stood with a nod of your head.

Kyle’s gaze searched the shadowy, tree-covered landscape in an attempt to find unseen faces.

“Actually,” Ivar spoke, “they are still in Kattegat.”

“What?” You asked, startled at Ivar’s sudden intervention. 

“The rest of my people were unable to escape King Harold’s army,” Ivar answered. “They are caged in like animals and Kattegat, my Kattegat is their cage.” 

There was nothing you could say. You weren’t a king or held the future of thousands of people in your hands-- you simply didn’t know what to say.

An uncomfortable silence fell over you and Kyle as you continued making your way amongst the scattered crowd; your palms became clammy the closer you got to its center.

Your own eyes roamed over the weathered and tired faces that made up the crowd. For a brief second, you imagined the horror of being woken up in the middle of the night by an invasion. 

But I was woken up in the middle of the night by a sudden invasion too, you reminded yourself.  Images of the of the fighting in the thrown roam, dead bodies, and pools of blood flooded your mind-- you silently prayed that with time you would be able to shake away those awful memories. 

“Tonight has been a trying time,” Ivar’s voice boomed through the still, night air, effectively startling you for the second time in mere seconds, “but tonight we have been given a sign that the Gods are on our side.”

A collective gasp ran through the sea of people that surrounded you. 

“We,” he continued to speak with kingly authority that demanded he be heard, “have Gods among us!”

Another gasp, this time mixed with murmurs, ran through the crowd. Your stomach dropped as Ivar motioned toward where you an Kyle stood, side by side.  You felt the heat rise in your face as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned their attention towards you and your best friend. 

Ivar’s stone-like features, illuminated by both moonlight and torch fire, stared you down. It was clear he wanted you to do something, but you didn’t know what.  It was only after a few seconds of shifting your eyes between Ivar and the crowd that you realized what he wanted. He thinks you’re a Goddess. They think you’re a Goddess. They all want you to confirm it.

You took a deep breath, wiped your clammy hands on the skirt of your dress, and shot Kyle a look that seemed to ask for luck before taking a step forward, chin raised in false confidence, and began to speak. 

“It is true,” you bellowed out, the edge in your voice successfully hidden, “the Gods have not forsaken you.” You raised your hands above your head, becoming a living Y. “We walk among you, we feel your plights and have come to help.” You did your best to mimic the enthusiasm of the televangelists you often came across while flipping through channels back home, back in your own time. “We,” you signaled from yourself to Kyle, “are here to win back Kattegat for you.”

A silence fell over the surroundings before the people of Kattegat, who’d been chased out of their own homes, broke out into a cheer that shook the ground.  For a brief second, you wondered if their loud, hope-filled chants would attract the attention of the invaders, this King Harald, and his warriors, then you felt energized by the sheer vigor radiating from every single person present. Guilt at your finally began to knaw at you. 

You turned to look at Kyle from over your shoulder. A look of guilt that mirrored your own rested over his features. 

This isn’t going to work. I can feel it.

“Why did the Gods send you two?” Hvitserk asked from his perch on an unusually large tree stump a few feet in front of you. 

It was early morning and everyone in what you’d decided resembled a refugee camp was still asleep. Last night you’d boldly lied to everyone here, told them you and Kyle were Gods, now you were sitting among tents, trying to answer questions you hadn’t even though up answers for. 

What would be a good enough reason? Why would two Gods be here?

You raked your brain for an appropriate answer. 

“Brother,” Ivar’s voice suddenly filled the silence you’d allowed to grow, “you are bold to question the  dealings of Gods.” You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he dragged himself towards where his brother sat. His entire disposition had changed when he learned you and Kyle were otherworldly-- his mannerism had gone from slightly condescending to utterly respectful. 

Of course, he’s being respectful. He thinks you can make anything happen with a snap of your fingers.

“May I ask, where is your companion?” Ivar asked you once he’d pulled himself up beside Hvitserk.

Your eyebrows knitted together. “My companion?” 

“He means Kyle,” Hvitserk replied for his brother. 

Ivar side eyed him in return. “I would never  be so disrespectful to a God.” He spoke as if warning his brother, daring him to say another word without reverence. 

“He’s asleep,” you said, studying Ivar’s features, “and please, don’t be so formal.” 

Something behind Ivar’s deep blue eyes seemed to spark to life as you finished speaking; admiration and gratitude towards you radiated off of him. “That you would allow me to speak to you as an equal  is an honor.”

Taken aback, you gave him a small smile. Honor. It’s an honor. It wouldn’t be an honor if you knew I’m faking it. 

“Should we wait for Kyle to wake up?” Ivar asked, a proud smile spreading over his lips as he said Kyle’s names.  

“What for?”  You asked.

Hvitserk let out a small, excited laugh. “For battle preparations.”

Battle preparations..? Oh, of course! Fuck. 

Your eyes ran over the battle plans that rested before you. You weren’t sure how long it’d been since Ivar had started talking, relaying his plans for taking back Kattegat, but you were looking forward to its end. 

“You,” Ivar looked at Ubbe while pointing to what looked like a mountain range on the old, hole-riddled map sprawled out on the small wooden table, “will bring your warriors through here and wait for the signal.”

Ubbe, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, focused solely on the map you all huddled around. “And what will the signal be?” He asked, eyes never looking up. 

“My warriors will swarm the gates,” Hvitserk chimed in, “once we distract the guards in the towers you’ll make your way down the hills, storming the unguarded left side.” 

Ubbe and Hvitserk nodded in understanding. 

I can’t take this anymore. 

Without warning, you walked away from the map, turning your back towards everyone. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you. 

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Kyle was the first to ask. 

You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation and turned to face Kyle and the Ragnarssons. “This isn’t going to work,” you practically yelled. 

Ivar inched forward, a look of worry evident in his features. “And why not?”

As quickly as possible, you racked your brain for a possible answer. “Becuase,” you started, unsure of where you were heading with your remark, “because--”

“Becuase you are planning on using brute force,” Kyle finished for you. You silently thanked him for it. “I was going to bring it up,” he continued, “but I wanted to see just how good your plan would be.” Your eyebrows knitted at the air os self-importance he’d suddenly obtained I think he might be enjoying being a God a little too much. 

Ivar eyed the crude map. “Brute force,” he quietly repeated to himself as he thought over his battle plans.

Ubbe crossed his arms and looked from you to Kyle, then back to you. “What would you suggest we do then?”  

You lifted your chin up in the air, mirroring Kyle’s demeanor. “That is for you to tell us. We,” you motioned towards Kyle, “would like to see if you are worthy of our help.”

“Of course we are worthy,” Hvitserk intervened, “we are son’s of Ragnar Lothbrok, the direct descendant of the All-Father.” 

“Even so,” you continued, “you cannot expect to ride on the tails of glory your father held before you.”

Ivar looked up from the map, directly at you. “Of course not,” he agreed, “we will prove to you that the Gods are right for choosing us.” You could see an idea forming behind his eyes. “And I have the perfect way to show you just how worthy we are of your help,” he bowed his head and turned towards a man dressed in rags that stood by the tent’s only opening. “Gather as many slaves as possible,” he commanded, “tonight we will prove out worth with a great sacrifice.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. I think I’m about to throw up. This is going too far.

It’s been a super long time since I last posted, so just let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in this anymore :)

@eating-pie-in-the-tardis @titty-teetee @doklausoneverysurfacepossible @iamwarrenspeace @thehunterofthelord @justacrush @thefangirlsoul @florenceivy @marauderette130 @tis-itheapplepie @vaisabu @ketepara 

[gamesofmuggles]

SHIP #65

@tis-itheapplepie I ship you with Heahmund 

You are Aethelwuf wife, well that’s the official title. 

You have all the privilege you want, but when you can have everything you want, you always desire more right?

As the queen, you asked to be teach English 

All of your domestics love you because you know a lot about many subjects, sometimes they set on your bed and listen to you for hours before someone told you you're late on your day. 

You knew your husband was seeing someone else, so deeply you didn't feel guilty to look for Heahmund

Everybody knew about his adventures with women of "faith" but who could fight him about it? The country needed him. 

While seating at a roundtable talking about ressources for Wessex with a few men of power, as he talked Heahmud slide his hands on your thigh. Your body rigid at his touch, when the meeting was over and everyone left, only you two remaining, he pull you against a wall "He's not looking at you like the queen you deserved to be" 

As the shy and introvert women you are, he was very turned on by it and enjoyed when he could surprise yourself with a touch.

As you're relationship involved in secret, you admit you never had so much fun with Aethelwuf ever.

One day, as you had an encounter with your husband, it was too much.

"How hypocritical on you to reject the fault on me"

"I have sinned, so do you" Aethelwuf grab your arms in a strong grip not in your taste. "Fucking bishop Heahmund" with the free hand you had, and in a movement, you didn't control, you slapped him. Aethelwuf didn't move, he knew that was what he deserved. He let go your hand and turn to mind his business, when you left the room, Heahmund was leaning against the wall.

"Meet me tonight," you said, your hands still burning. 

He comes and put a hand on your cheek, 

"You're like fire, captivating and burning when we get too close"

[oddsnendsfanfics]

From Afar

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Sigurd/OFC Warnings: N/A Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: I was bored and Sigurd needs more love

"Gods sake Sigurd, either walk over there and say hi or get on with life." Hvitserk mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich.

It was the same story, every Tuesday afternoon, they would walk into The Earl and Sigurd would begin to act as if he forgot how to function upon basic human interactions. At first Hvitserk dismissed his younger brother's behaviour, up until three months ago, when he discovered the reason for it.

Sigurd would order the same thing every week, a roast beef on rye, hot mustard, no pickle, and extra sauerkraut. Each week the same waitress would walk by, toss out a friendly "Hello" and go on about her day.

"You can't just walk over to a girl and say hello." Sigurd tried to reason, watching as Hvitserk destroyed his turkey and bacon on wheat. His brother ate like an animal.

Sitting back, Hvitserk wiped his mouth - Sigurd was shocked to see him use the napkin and not his sleeve - licking his lips he stifled a chuckle. "Then how do you meet people?"

"It's not like that with women. Okay. They like originality and...well they like a guy who is clever." Sigurd shrugged, picking at the corner of his half eaten sandwich.

"You sound like Ubbe." Hvitserk rolled his eyes at the thought of how his older brother approached women. "Women like a guy who can be confident. Who can be bold. Someone who isn't afraid to take what he wants."

It was Sigurd's turn to roll his eyes. "She's a human being, not a country."

Picking up his mangled sandwich, Hvitserk sighed. "You sit in here every week and watch her. It's beginning to get creepy. Talk to her, or I'm going to ask her out."

"I don't need you picking my dates."

"Good, because I wasn't going to ask her for you." a devilish grin turned the corners of Hvitserk's smile.

Frowning, Sigurd tried his best to ignore the smugness that was radiating off of his older brother. Hvitserk was such a pain in the ass.

Watching as the waitress met a customer at the register, Sigurd's annoyance melted. How did Hvitserk expect him to talk to her, anyway? She was far out of his league and the second Sigurd walked over, she'd probably laugh in his face.

No, if she was as kind as she was pretty, there was no way she'd leave Sigurd with a shade of embarrassment on his face.

She had to be the prettiest girl that Sigurd had ever laid eyes on. He had never spoken to her directly, but he had heard her voice enough to know that it sounded like a soft summer breeze on a meadow. Her eyes were a deep, rich and vibrant colour that bore through you, when you looked in your direction.

How could he be so wrapped up, when he barely knew her name? And how would she feel to know that the dork who came in every Tuesday was secretly in love with her?

"Dude, if you don't go over there before we leave, I'm taking her out on Saturday." Hvitserk's voice interjected his thoughts.

"Fuck off." Sigurd mumbled turning back to throw a glare at Hvitserk.

"No way, I'm serious." Hvitserk pushed his chair back from the table, a rare sight. "I'm going over there and asking her out."

"Fine!" Sigurd hissed, his anger brewing. "I'll do it, but you need to leave first."

"Why?" Hvitserk dug some cash from his wallet.

"Because, if she rejects me, I don't want you telling Ivar." Sigurd scowled. The last thing he wanted, ever, was for Ivar to know he had been rejected by a pretty girl. The opposite sex adored his baby brother, despite his tendency to be a dick. If he heard that Sigurd was turned down it would lead to a life of tormenting.

Mumbling about his brothers and their stupid competitive nature, Hvitserk grabbed his coat and made for the door. Alone at last, Sigurd gathered the handful of cash that Hvitserk had dumped, along with a little bit of courage, before making his way over to the register.

There she was, an angel on earth. A Valkyrie in her own right. An absolute Goddess and a vision. Sigurd swallowed the lump forming in his throat with each step. Sweaty palms and a growing need for a gasp of air, he held himself together.

Outside, Hvitserk peered through the glass door. His nose practically pressed and leaving smudges, while he watched and waited for Sigurd's fate to be dictated. So far everything looked good, Sigurd was on his feet and upright at least. A customer inside moved and blocked Hvitserk's final view, frowning he stepped away from the door and waited for his brother.

“So?” Hvitserk asked the second Sigurd opened the door to step out. Eagerly he bounced on his feet. “What did she say? Did you ask? Do I need to go get myself a date?”

“Come on.” Sigurd grabbed Hvitserk's arm, yanking him away from The Earl. Striding as fast as he could down the block.

“Hey, wait.” Hvitserk pulled his jacket free from Sigurd's clutches. “Was it that bad?”

“Bad?” Sigurd echoed, standing frozen on the spot. “Are you kidding?”

“Man, I'm sorry. Come on, we'll go find some other girl to cheer you up. She looked like a bitch anyway.” Hvitserk slung his arm around Sigurd.

“Wait, Hvit, let me finish. It wasn't bad, in fact it went pretty well. We have a date tomorrow night.” Sigurd clarified.

“Then why the rush?”

“Because, man, I couldn't let her see me do this...” Sigurd punched the air, throwing his hands around and wiggling his legs in what had to be the worst victory dance Hvitserk had witnessed. Shouting and running in a celebratory circle, Sigurd whooped and came to a stand still. “Now all I have to do is learn how to skate.”

 @lisinfleur, @float-autumn-leave , @funmadnessandbadassvikings , @kawennote09, @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @piebytheocean, @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @angelaiswriting, @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 ,  @ultra-nina-bella, @tis-itheapplepie, @vikingsandetc -  if you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to do so Here

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The One He Chose

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: After all this time has Ivar finally caught his wife's trail?

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Anyone working under the delusion that Ivar would accept the fact that his wife had escaped him eventually learned that would not be the case.

His men had stopped their violent search of Kattegat, just as he had promised Bjorn, but he was still searching for her.

Even as the months went on to become nearly a full year.

(Y/N) had been missing for ten months, one week and four days, Ivar was keeping count of his lonely nights. Despite how the people talked he had not let Freydis warm his bed in his wife’s absence.

Instead he spent most of his days and nights in his war room, looking over all the maps of other cities and villages that Kattegat traded with the most. He was furious at the fact that there had been no news from any of his informants, and his relationship with his brothers did little to comfort him.

Bjorn was, as he expected, furious at his sending off warriors to such vital trading cities. He had shouted himself nearly blue when he’d arrived at Ivar’s estate; of course he let the King do his whining and even allowed him to smash his war table in his tantrum, because to him none of it mattered.

His ships had sailed, his warriors deployed and there was nothing to be done about it; not by Bjorn or even himself. Hvitserk, like he always had, chose to remain neutral in the argument. Ubbe was clearly on Bjorn’s side, but unlike Bjorn, Ubbe seemed to understand why he had acted so hastily even if he disapproved of the actions.

Currently Ubbe was the only one of his brothers who had friendly conversations with him, and Ivar would never be able to express how much he appreciated the company in these hard months.

‘Still no news?’ Ubbe asked as they both sat on the beach and watched a merchant ship approach.

‘Nearly a hundred spies and no good news.’ Ivar sighed.

‘No good news?’ the eldest questioned.

‘My spies reported at last that they had a difficult time keeping track of (Y/N) in my time away, she would leave town alone around midday…and would not return home until nearly sunset.’ Ivar confessed, laying back in the sand and covering his eyes.

Ubbe felt his heart begin to beat faster, but he was not sure how much information Ivar truly had on the subject they were discussing.

‘You think she had an affair?’

‘I do not know, that is what tortures me brother. Not knowing things has always angered me, and now it seems I know less than ever. I don’t know if she was unfaithful, I don’t know where she is; all I know is she isn’t here.’

Ubbe had such conflicting feelings battling in his chest as he watched a few easy to miss tears roll down his brother's face. He was relieved to not have been discovered as (Y/N)’s lover, but still he was upset to see his brother in pain and know he was at least partially responsible for it.

‘If you think she was unfaithful why continue the search? Let go of your devotions and remarry, you have no obligations to her.’

'Why would I ever think such a thing?' Ivar asked, his anger visibly raising.

‘I will not let go, Ubbe.’ Ivar said as he sat back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

‘Not of her, not my marriage and not my anger. I will find her and she will answer every question I have.’

‘But what if you don’t find her? So far it has been nearly a year and you have had no progression in your search. It pains me to see you destroying yourself and your reputation for one woman you can replace so easily.’

Ivar looked over at his brother incredulously.

‘She can’t be replaced, not by Freydis or any woman in this world. She feared me Ubbe, do you understand that? From the day we stepped into that insignificant Christian kingdom, she looked at an army and still she feared me the most out of them.’

‘Ivar, every woman you have spoken to fears you. It would be impossible to find a woman in Kattegat you did not terrify.’

‘I know that, but how many of them would be brave enough to marry someone as vicious as me? How many would make that sacrifice? She could have stayed quiet and let any of those women be dragged away, but she stepped forward. Those Christian men offered her up like a lamb for sacrifice and still she wanted them to live, and was even smart enough to know how to play my mind games.’ Ivar explained.

‘How could I replace a woman like that, a woman that brave, who fears a filthy cripple like me?’

Ubbe sighed and stood up, looking out at the sea and saw that the ship was nearly at the docks, but he decided he could offer his younger brother some advice.

‘You shouldn’t want her to fear you, Ivar. How can anyone love what they fear?’

Ivar looked taken aback, as if he’d never considered not terrifying his wife, but instead of responding he turned his focus over to the ship crew that was unloading the boat.

‘I don’t see how he thought he was secretive?’ one of the men said casually as he helped to dock the ship.

‘He’s young, he’s never smuggled a damn thing and it shows,’

Ivar’s ears perked up upon hearing this conversation and he quickly called the two merchants over; abandoning his own chat with Ubbe.

The two men looked over at the princes curiously; as they had not been aware of the chaotic search for the Christian nun that had occurred while they were at sea.

‘Prince Ivar, Prince Ubbe.’ one of them greeted and the other nodded in agreement.

‘I’m happy that the Gods brought you all back to us, I would like to treat your crew to a small feast on my estate in the next fortnight.’ Ivar said cheerily.

Ubbe quickly understood the game Ivar was playing and he decided he wanted no part in it at all.

He bid his brother a less than polite goodbye and left the two men to Ivar’s manipulation.

A feast for a simple unimportant ship crew was unheard of, especially a feast given by a prince. It would have been considered a great sign of disrespect to decline his hospitality.

The two men thanked Ivar for his unwarranted kindness and went to let the others know that they would all, along with their families, be expected at the youngest Prince’s estate.

Ivar watched the ship crew discuss their surprising treat and he pulled himself up onto his crutches and began to walk back to the markets.

As he limped along his way he subtly motioned for one of his spies, a thrall working outside of the butcher’s stand, to walk along side him.

Obediently the man followed the wordless order and matched Ivar’s pace.

‘Everyone under my purse is to watch the men on the merchant ship that just docked. Every man is to be followed for the next fortnight. I will expect daily reports if anyone fails to report even one hour of their actions I will have them hung.’ Ivar said strictly not looking at the man at all.

As he had wished, his warning went a long way in getting the results he wanted. He received reports in the crewmens’ every action, he’d even gotten reports describing their trips into the woods to relieve themselves.

Still no news of his wife or of what the two men suspected a crew mate of smuggling, but Ivar was sure that this was the right ship.

He had discovered the ship had sailed off the morning after (Y/N) had vanished.

Ivar tasked his thralls with preparing for the feast and he was impressed with how well they had performed.

By the night his feast was set to happen he had large tables sat outside under a cloudless starlit sky and there were heaps of fine dishes and mead as well as wine from England.

The crewmen were all in awe of the extravagant show of hospitality and everyone gave him their thanks in person.

Ivar mingled among them and was pleased that the news of his wife's disappearance had become common knowledge to all of the men.

‘May I speak with you Prince Ivar?’ one of the men asked as he approached the high table.

Ivar was quick to recognize the man as one of the men he’d spoken to on the beach.

‘Of course come with me.’

With a great amount of control Ivar calmly led the man into his home away from the festivities.

‘What would you like to discuss?’ the prince asked.

‘Forgive my intruding, but I have heard of your wife’s disappearance, and I- I think I have some information to give.’ I asked.

This was what Ivar had planned; to give the crew such a grand feast that at least one man would be grateful enough to betray one another.

‘Please, I would owe you an unimaginable debt if you could help me find my wife.’ Ivar said cunningly.

‘I can’t be sure if it was your wife, all I know is that Amund had someone in that crate. We more experienced in smuggling saw him speaking with it, sliding his rations into it even.’ the old man said.

‘A crate?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes, big crate, it could easily fit one person, maybe even two.’

‘Two?’ Ivar said, feeling his grip on his crutch tighten in his anger.

She’d had an affair and ran off with some nobody; she’d decided weeks locked in a crate with another man was better than the rest of her life with him.

‘You said this man’s name was…?’ Ivar questioned, struggling to keep his anger hidden.

‘Amund, strong boy; he went ahead of the rest of us and the first thing off the boat was the crate.’

Ivar took in all this information, trying to piece together what all this implied and he determined he needed more to work with.

‘Tell me, what happened after the merchandise was unloaded. Did he hide the crate?’

‘No, the crate was in the assigned room when we all brought in the rest, still nailed shut too. The Earl granted us his hospitality to rest after our journey.’

Again Ivar was silent, trying very hard to picture in his mind what could have happened. If (Y/N) was in the crate and this Amund was the one responsible for getting her out why did he leave it sealed?

‘Big enough for two…’ he mused, thinking that if there was a man strong enough inside with her he could break out of the crate with her then she could have escaped with him.

‘Was this crate ever damaged, or moved?’ he asked the crewman.’

‘No, at least not to my knowledge, but the journey had been harder on my body than usual in my advanced age. When the Earl offered us rest I rested, but I did hear rumors.’ the man continued.

‘Rumors?’

‘The merchants spoke of one of our crewmen walking into the Great Hall carrying an unconscious woman. I never saw her, but she was the topic of much gossip while we restocked the ship.’

‘Did anyone on your ship see this woman, even a glimpse of her?’

‘I can not say with certainty, I can only say that Amund smuggled someone out of Kattegat.’

The anger for the old man’s lack of knowledge was red hot and only cooled by his relief of finally having a lead.

Thank you for telling what you could, please enjoy the feast with your family. It is a celebration in the honor of you and all traders like you, what would our world look like without brave men like you all.’ the prince complimented as he dismissed the man.

As soon as the man was out of earshot Freydis, silent as death, immerged from the shadows of the dim lit room.

‘Spread the word, I want this man, Amund identified, and followed. He shouldn’t be able to sneeze without me knowing when and where.’ Ivar ordered, his voice much harder than it had been mere seconds ago.

‘For how long?’

‘As long as it takes for him to let down his guard and let the information slip.’

While Ivar’s spies began to focus on Amund, all the way in Denmark, (Y/N) was adapted into her new life.

In the first week of her new life as a thrall she quickly realized two things.

The first was that the life of a nun and the life of a thrall was eerily similar in many regards. An older, more hardened and experienced woman would assign tasks to her and then would judge if the task was completed correctly and met her standards. If she did well she would be given another, often more challenging task, but if it did not meet Hilda’s standards there was punishment.

It was a rare occasion when (Y/N) was on the receiving end of Hilda’s wrath, which was why her punishments always seemed so harsh in comparison to the other girls.

The second thing was that, even despite the hatred the head thrall clearly had for her, she greatly preferred the life of a thrall over the life she had fled from.

Sure the shed the thralls all shared was cold and hardly much of a shelter at all but she slept fine knowing she wouldn’t wake up to Ivar’s rage.

And even better she found other Christians among the women she now shared status with.

It felt as if she had been welcomed into a new church, even if it had only been a small circle consisting of three women of various ages.

There was Kendra, the youngest being only around nineteen who had been captured and sold from York. Dawn was in her mid thirties and was a cook, she had never said where she was from originally, just that she had been only thirteen when she became the old cook’s apprentice. Finally there was Megan who was closer to (Y/N)’s age being twenty four, she was originally from Essex.

After two years of hiding her faith from her tyrannical husband, praying amongst others was euphoric. Holding hands in prayer was what she looked forward to most when she awoke at first light.

Every morning she would be awakened by Hilda whacking a wooden stick against the walls of the shed from outside before the doors of the shed were thrown open.

‘Get up! Work to be done!’ she boomed unnecessarily.

It was common knowledge that anyone still laying down by the time the doors opened would not only be promptly hit with the stick but they also would get no first meal.

The term meal was used loosely, it was only gr Rx bone broth and uncooked crops or, if they were so lucky, scraps from feasts.

Today’s meal was bone broth and carrots, after receiving her portion (Y/N) went to the corner with her small group and they shared a brief prayer over your meal before eating quickly.

‘What is your chore list today Kendra?’ she asked the youngest.

‘Caring for the Earl’s stock.’ was the answer she was given.

‘Be sure you give the chickens enough, the last few we’ve cooked were more feathers than meat.’ Dawn sighed.

‘I will be…preparing for a visitor.’ Megan said quietly, hardly touching her small meal.

At this all of them went silent.

Megan was often used as a cleaning girl around the great hall, but on the rare occasion that the Earl had important company she was a bed warmer.

It was a truly horrible fate for any woman but it seemed to be an especially cruel task for a Christian.

Every night before Hilda came in to order everyone to sleep they all joined hands in a silent prayer, but even still it was obvious Megan only prayed for God’s mercy and forgiveness.

(Y/N) reached out and took Megan’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

‘God knows your heart and he knows your mind and spirit. He knows what sins you choose to commit and he knows the sins done against you. He will always forgive your sins and in time he will punish those who have sinned you.’ she encouraged.

Megan held onto the hand that she had been offered. Of course all the women of this small congregation were close, but Megan had such a strong connection and admiration for (Y/N).

The lie that Amund had told the Earl was widely believed and widely discussed in the markets. Meaning it was well known that (Y/N) was a runaway bed warmer herself.

It was for this reason that Megan looked at (Y/N) such wonder and great respect. In her unknowing eyes (Y/N) had done the impossible; escaped a lifetime of being nothing but a common whore for Pagans.

‘Hurry up you dogs! There's work to be done and if even one task isn’t completed then no one eats tonight!’ Hilda’s voice boomed.

Realizing that she hadn’t been focusing on her already cooling broth (Y/N) quickly drank the remaining liquid in the wooden bowl and stuck her carrots into her skirts.

Hopefully she would get a moment to sneak away and eat them before nightfall, if not then she would give it away to a beggar.

They all arose and set out to their assigned work locations.

Hilda sent a glare of pure malice at (Y/N) as she passed her on the way out of the shed.

‘If I hear so much as a word against you from the healers I’ll have you flogged.’ the old haggish woman warned.

‘Yes Hilda.’ (Y/N) replied, the air of respect and responsibility in her tone before she went on.

She had been assigned as a healer’s apprentice due to her telling the Earl she had some experience in that field of work.

Her days were spent gathering herbs and roots, mixing and brewing, occasionally there will be a person who is injured or falls so ill they need physical care and when that happens she would be the one to give them care. She would clean them, try to close up or disinfect their wounds and feed them remedies.

Today when she entered the healer’s hut she was met with the now familiar scent of living rotting flesh.

‘Girl.’ the healer, an old ragged woman named Skadi, called to her from the table where she was laying out her supplies.

‘Who is it?’ the thrall asked as she approached.

‘One of the Earl’s blacksmiths; got his foolish self cut and didn’t think to clean the sore.’

‘Infection, can it be treated?’

‘No, but he’ll survive.’ Skadi said sadly as she placed her necessary materials on a tray.

There were ropes to tie off the blood flow and restrain him, a leather strap to keep the man from biting off or swallowing his tongue, and a red hot ax in order to both remove the limb and cauterize the wound.

You hated doing this but it was necessary, the hut stunk with infection but it didn’t smell of death quite yet.

The man was older, maybe forty but clearly he’d lived a hard life to reach that age. He was quiet but his chest was heaving as if he had been fighting for each breath. His eyes were screwed shut and his head was turned away from his rotting hand.

It truly was disgusting to see a hand that mangled. The wound was still open, but no longer bleeding leaving an open gash caked in blackened blood and crusted puss.

She went about tying him down, making sure to be extra precise when restraining the arm that would soon be handless.

This was how she spent her days, in the hut with the sick and injured. It was a far cry from her old life in Kattegat. She was no longer a prince’s wife that was tended to by a full staff of thralls. Now she was herself thrall and she was called upon to do hard, truly hard, work and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaving the hut for the day (Y/N) found herself exhausted but hopeful that the man would be ok once he was rested.

As she made her way back to the shed she chomped on the carrots she had stored away from breakfast, thankful to have them at least in case someone really didn’t finish their chores and no one was given dinner tonight.

It was as she finished her last carrot that something compelled her to look over at the beach as she neared the shed.

There was a ship, of course there was a ship at the beach; where else would a ship be if not at sea. That wasn’t what made her stop in her tracks, it was undoubtedly a Kattegat ship.

By no means was (Y/N) an expert on such things but after two years she could single out Floki’s handiwork from any other boat builder.

Those sails, the dragon figurehead…that was not a merchant ship.

With her heart racing she hurried into the shed and huddled into the corner where she slept, but she did not lay down.

She just sat with her hands fiddling with the threads of her skirts, as she thought back to the morning conversation she’d had.

A visitor, an important enough visitor to be offered a bed warmer.

How had she not thought to ask who this visitor was? She prayed with all her heart that it wasn’t Ivar, but there was no way to be sure.

No, Ivar couldn’t know which boat you snuck onto, even if he did he wouldn’t just devote himself to hunting you.

At least not personally.

Ivar was a prince of a wealthy kingdom, as well as a respected warlord in his own right. What man would dare to disobey him if he ordered them to find you.

Everything was hitting her all at once.

She would have to leave tonight…run until she made it to the next town.

With what? No food, supplies or weapons to protect yourself? This wasn’t like the cold journey to Floki’s that last night. This would be a three day trip by foot. Not to mention it was no longer winter. It was spring and roads would be busy and therefore dangerous. A woman in rags traveling alone was little more than an invitation for a rapist on his way.

It wasn’t ideal by any means but it was either risk the dangers of the road or stay and be turned over to Ivar by whatever man Ivar had sent after her.

‘(Y/N), you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Kendra said as she sat beside her.

‘Not to be dramatic, but it feels as if I have.’

[som3thingcr3ative]

Voluspa Part 4

I didn’t realize that I hadn’t posted since part three! I actually have quite a bit more written that I haven’t posted, so that will tide me over until I can write more hopefully. 

Synopsis: Astrid reaches Kattegat, but the complications from her journey catch up to her: Ivar the Boneless is King, and it is he who she must impress. 

Warnings: Slow burn, Ivar, Language, probably will be NSFW eventually, weapons, blood. You know, Vikings. For this chapter, not much warning needed.

PART 1 2 3 4 5 6

Hvardr stops a few hundred feet shy of the gate into Kattegat. I stare up at the battlements and think of the hours of labor put into everything- all for it to be burned down. It’s a waste. 

And I think. I think about how when I was born, I spoke Old Norse before I spoke English- or Danish, or Norwegian, or any of the other languages I’d learned since then. I think about the curse of sight I’ve been given, and I know it will be of use to me here. 

And then I think of the rune stone and the statue, and I know this is where I’m meant to be. 

So when a guard calls out ‘who’s there’ to me, my voice is even and strong when I reply.

“Astrid Seerschild,” I say. “Here on my own behalf to see King Ivar Ragnarsson.”

And the gates open before me.

I ride Hvardr into the marketplace just inside the entrance to Kattegat. Closing my eyes just briefly, I focus on the energies around me and get the lay of the land. A slave comes up to me, looking for reins or a bridle. 

“You won’t find any tack on him,” I say to the young boy. “And so long as you don’t try to put any on him, he will be good to you. Understand?”

He nods, waiting while I dismount. Not once do his eyes meet mine. 

He scrambles to help me unstrap the harness, but I tell him it’s okay. I gather the harness and my two pelt-wrapped bags and stride confidently toward the great hall- even if my gifts did not allow me to find its energy, I would have followed my ears. It is damn near the noisiest building I’ve ever been near, worse even than the bar back home. 

Just as I reach the doors, three large Vikings block my entrance. 

“What do we have here?” One asks, elbowing the man next to him. I set my jaw and stare defiantly up at him, knowing full well what he thinks I am. “Say, slave, did you steal those clothes?”

“I am not a slave.” I state, drawing myself up to full height. The position pulls my coat back just enough to reveal the glint of my sword at my hip. “And you would do well for yourself to move out of my way.” The third Viking moves to grab my face. I duck and counter, my forearm striking the inside of his elbow. I spin, hitting him on the temple with the pommel of one of my hidden daggers. He drops like a stone. “Now move!” I don’t wait for them to respond: I shoulder-check the two blocking my way and open the doors to the great hall.

A slave girl notices me. Her eyes dart to Einar, and she drops the pitcher of ale she was holding. As it shatters on the floor, the entire hall goes silent. She realizes what she did and panic crosses her face at the thought of her punishment. Her eyes cut to the figure lounging on the throne, but his gaze is locked on me.

I keep my eyes forward, ignoring the slave. It is the best thing I can do for her; give her time to clean up and escape unnoticed while the attention is on me. Einar senses my emotions and prowls beside me, his chest puffed out and tail straight behind him. He does not look any Viking in the eye. Einar knows that I will and have always protected him. He has nothing to fear from these people- It is they who should fear him.

The quiet lets me think. I can see the man’s stunning blue eyes tracing my every movement. I can all but feel the brilliant mind behind those eyes working out who I am and why I am here. I know he is King Ivar, if only because of his legs- legs that are wrapped together. He is taller than most Vikings, who are much taller than any man I’d seen. Broad shoulders, massive biceps, powerful and large hands. 

And I know how to play my cards.

“King Ivar Ragnarsson,” I say, choosing to ignore his legs and instead reaffirm his place as his father’s -the legend’s- son. “Conqueror of christians, slayer of Saxons and the one true ruler of the North lands, I am Astrid. I have come to Kattegat to offer my services to you in the war to come.”

I make sure I still have his attention, and then I dip into a curtsy, gracefully bowing my head. The Vikings around us watch. Their energies surround me, fearful, not trusting. No one curtsies, not here in the north. I have shown myself to be an outsider, because that is what I want them to think of me as. 

“What makes you think I need your help?” Ivar says, his voice sending chills down my spine as I straighten up. My gaze locks with his and I take in his posture. He’d moved, leaning just slightly toward me, his shoulders facing mine. Open, listening. Not nearly as defensive as he’d sounded. A truly ingenious move on his part. He wants me to feel fear, to feel desperate, to hesitate and take his bait. 

But I won’t. I know better. “My King,” I say, relaxing my posture just enough to exude calm. “I come from a family well traveled and I know much about the Saxons; their lands, their rulers, their politics and customs. I know their strategies and their plans.” A brief pause gives him time to understand what I said. He leans back just a tiny bit, and I know I’ve spoken well. “Let me show you what I know, Ivar Ragnarsson, and you will have the upper hand.”

The crowd seems to hold their breath. 

“How do I know you aren’t a Saxon spy?” He questions. I smile graciously.

“I give you my word that I was born and bred in the North. I have no sympathy for the Saxons, nor their god. I have been given a great gift by our gods. Allow me to show you.”

Ivar raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. He thinks for a second, and then he nods. 

“Your seer is here, in this room.” I close my eyes and can hear the Vikings mumble among themselves that he isn’t there; they can’t see him. But I can. “Come forward, Seer.”

My energies touch the Seer’s robes and draw him into the light. The Vikings pound their mugs against the tables, yelling that it proves nothing. I open my eyes and smile. “Your half-brother, Bjorn Ironside will burst through those doors in three- two-”

I point at the entrance, just as Bjorn pushes the doors open with such force that they slam against the wall. The Vikings inside are shocked into silence. 

“The gods speak to me and through me, Ivar Ragnarsson. They have called me here to do their bidding; to uphold the Viking way, to allow you to live and thrive in the change that is to come.” I let my voice drop to a more quiet tone. “I know things that no other knows. I have seen things that no Seer could comprehend. I know these things because I am from a long line of gifted family, trained in the arts of our craft. My body and mind are tied to the very ground this place stands on. Without my knowledge, Ivar Ragnarsson, every last Viking will be killed in no less than a century. The Saxons will infiltrate this land and your raids will fail.” My body thrums with the energy around me and I allow it to take over. My eyes go completely white. “Before the century is over, the proud Vikings will have devolved and split into factions of what used to be. With time, the gods will be forgotten. They have sent me to stop this future from happening.”

Turning, I smirk at Bjorn. “On my journey here, Bjorn and ten others burst out of the woods to attack my wolf. When confronted, Bjorn threatened me to no avail. When asked, he tried to send me the wrong way. Or am I lying, Bjorn Ironside?”

“You’re a monster.” Bjorn growls. “And a liar!”

“She speaks the truth,” the seer interjects, his voice like the hissing of a snake. 

My smirk widens. “Now what does that make you, Ironside?”

“You lied to your King, brother.” Ivar quips, seemingly uninterested- but he’s shifted to a better position for me; one that shows he is siding with me instead of the bad blood. His ice-like gaze slices through Bjorn whose eyes cut between me and the king. He’s caught in his own lie, no matter how insignificant. 

“And you haven’t?” Bjorn shouts, his face going red. Ivar leans back, his shoulders still facing me. Dismissing Bjorn’s threat while starting to trust me. 

The king smirks, raising a hand to trace his lips. “And what lie would that be?” He asks. I can see his devious plot; if Bjorn answers, he will incriminate himself. If he denies it, he makes himself a liar twice over. 

The trap slams shut when Bjorn opens his mouth. “You cannot please a woman, and yet you said you could.”

“Ivar Ragnarsson can please a woman, Bjorn.” I snarl, my eyes flashing white. As the color bleeds back into my iris I realize what I said and nearly recoil, fingers finding Einar’s scruff. 

Bjorn looks at me askance, a self-righteous smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “What proof do you have, outsider?” 

His shoulders lift, chest puffs out. He thinks he’s caught me in a lie- am I an outsider who has never been to Kattegat before or am I a liar who has lain with the king? Which is it?

“I have seen it,” I say, raising my chin just a tad. My fingers leave Einar’s fur and relax at my side. No fear. “The gods have shown me.”

“I like this one,” Ivar muses, leaning forward once again, his eyes on me. “You are welcome here, Astrid. So long as your loyalties remain true, you are my honored guest. Welcome to Kattegat.”

Tag: @tis-itheapplepie @thetwistedqueen @inforapound @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @themusingkitten @youbloodymadgenius All Ivar tag: @amy8220 @sallydelys

[syriul]

A Time Traveler in Viking Court - part 11/?

Your eyes shifted from Ubbe to Kyle and back to Ubbe. A sudden tension grew between the two of them, so much so that you were sure one of them would start swinging at the other any moment. 

Unimpressed with the scene that was unfolding before your eyes, you looked down towards your bare, mud-covered feet and tried wiggling your toes. As expected, you were unable to feel them. 

Great, the last thing I need right now is nerve damage.

 A gust of wind made the dress you wore flutter around your legs; you desperately hugged yourself in a vain attempt to retain some sort of warm. Your teeth began to involuntarily chatter, effectively breaking the silence that had settled over Ubbe, Kyle, and you. 

You rolled your eyes, hugged yourself tighter, and let out an exasperated sigh before walking towards Ubbe and Kyle. 

“Ubbe,” you started, making sure your exasperation could be clearly heard, “what happened? Why was the town attacked?”

Ubbe stood silent for a few seconds. His eyes jumped between you and Kyle a few times before he finally took in a deep breath and began to explain everything. “We were attacked by King Harald.” His face twisted in what you could only assume to be hatred as he spits out the name. 

“King Harald?” Kyle asked. 

Ubbe nodded. “He intends to be king of all of Norway.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought Ivar was the king.”

“Of Kattegat, yes.” Ubbe finished his sentence and turned away from you and Kyle. “We should continue walking, the others will be waiting.”

“Hold on,” Kyle called out as he walked close behind Ubbe, “how can someone be kind of a town?”

How CAN that be?

You silently waited for Ubbe to answer Kyle’s question. 

“He just is.” His curt reply seemed to be hiding something. 

Something he doesn’t want to talk about, duh.

Kyle opened his mouth to speak again but you stopped him by placing a hand on his arm and gently shaking your head. Kyle understood your silent request and nodded in understanding. 

A few minutes of walking in silence passed before you broke the silence once again. “So,” you started, unsure of what you were saying, “it must be nice to be part of the royal family. I bet that comes with a lot of perks.” 

Ubbe shot you an almost confused look over his shoulder. “It’s about as pleasant as you think it can be.” 

“So very pleasant,” Kyle said, clearly trying to lighten the mood as well. 

Ubbe shook his head. “Being part of this family can be a curse.”

“How?” You asked absentmindedly as you carefully stepped over a cluster of oversized rocks. 

Wow, I really took flashlights for granted.

“The chance of betrayal looms over each and every one of us at all times.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” you said as you walked up beside Ubbe, “you and your brothers seem tight.”

Ubbe looked at you sideways. 

“I mean you all seem to trust each other.” You explained yourself.

“Once, maybe. These days I am not so sure.” Ubbe took in a deep breath before continuing. “And I have no one to blame but myself.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Kyle said as he walked up on the other side of Ubbe. “Ivar and Hvitserk trust you. And if they don’t, I’m sure they will soon enough, no matter what you did.” He sounded confident and you couldn’t help but smile at it. 

Hell yeah, they’ll trust him. Kyle, you’re the best hype man.

 Ubbe stifled a hearty, yet somehow sad, laugh. “And what makes you say that?” 

“Well,” Kyle answered, “if Thor could forgive Loki for trying to kill him after stealing the Tesseract, then your brothers can forgive you for whatever it is you did.” Once again he sounded confident. 

Without warning, Ubbe stopped walking, leaving you and Kyle to walk a step ahead of him before realizing this. In unison, you and Kyle turned towards where he stood frozen, shock clear on his face. 

“Are you alright?” You asked as you walked back towards him with an arm outstretched before you in case he tumbled over from whatever it was that had suddenly begun to bother him. 

“You- you know of Thor and Loki?” Although the only source of light came from the moon above, you could see the color leave Ubbe’s face.

What the. - Oh, no.  You quickly realized what Ubbe meant. 

“Yeah,” Kyle answered, “they’re great. Really nice men.”

Your head whipped towards Kyle and motioned for him to zip his lips with your index finger. You weren’t sure he caught it. 

“You have met them?” Ubbe took a step away from you. “You have met Thor and Loki?”

“Yeah,” Kyle spoke again, “me and (y/n) met them at a movie premiere. We’d won a contest -

SHUT UP, KYLE!

“That’s not true.” You cut Kyle off. 

“What are you talking about, (y/n)? Yes, we did. We took pictures.” Kyle contradicted you. 

“Pictures?” Ubbe asked as he grew more confused by the second.

You bit your bottom lip as you desperately tried to come up with an answer. “Well,” you started after a few seconds, “yes, we have met them. But it wasn’t very important.”

“Not important?” Ubbe looked you in the eye as he spoke. “How can meeting Gods not be important?” Bewilderment radiated off of him. 

“Meeting what?” Kyle asked. 

You shot him a look over your shoulder, a look halfway between anger and amazement, a look that seemed to say “how can you be so stupid?”

Kyle’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open due to shock as he realized what he’d done. 

“We need to hurry, the others will want to know of this.” Ubbe broke into a smile as he began walking past you and Kyle with a new found spring in his step and sense of hope. 

You shot Kyle one last look before reluctantly trailing behind Ubbe. 

“Do you think they have tents lying around all over the countryside in case of attacks or do you think they have emergency kits already prepared that they just grab when they need to get out of Kattegat quickly?” Kyle looked around the dull, red, and furniture-less tent you’d been asked to wait in while Ubbe fetched Ivar. 

“I think you just landed us in hot water.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “What were you thinking?”

Kyle gave you a sheepish look, one that immediately let you know he was sorry. “I thought he was really into Christ Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston.”

You threw your arms in the air in exasperation before turning your back towards Kyle. “Why would you think that? We’re literally over a thousand years in the past.”

“I know, I know.” He defended himself. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit.” Your tone sounded harsher than you intended. 

“Hey,” Kyle urged you to turn towards him, “it’s been a long night, I am tired, and I was only trying to make him feel better. I didn’t know he’d end up thinking we were deities.”

You rolled your eyes before caving in and turning towards Kyle.

Damn it. 

“Okay, fine.” You whispered as you closed the gap between the two of you, the last thing you needed was for someone outside of the tent to overhear you. “We need to come up with something to tell them.”

“We should just tell them we’re not Gods.”

“Great idea, if you want to end up as the next sacrifice.”

“What?” Kyle went pale. “Sacrifice? I thought that was only something Vikings did in movies for dramatic effect.”

You slowly shook your head. “No, the tour guide back at the museum said they weren’t done often, but they WERE done.”

“Of course that’s what you remember.” Kyle looked past you, towards the closed tent flaps.

You smacked his chest with the palm of your hand. “Hey, I’m not the one who got us into this mess. You could have memorized some facts too, just saying.”

Kyle shook his head but kept his eyes on the entrance. “No, I couldn’t have. I never actually showed up to any of the tours.”

You were taken aback by this. Your time spent in modern-day Norway seemed so long ago that you couldn’t even remember if this was true or not. 

“Whatever, we should just play along and hope no one asks us to perform any miracles.”

Kyle nodded in reluctant agreement. “Alright. We’ll play along. Then what?”

“I don’t know.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth when the tent’s flaps opened up and in entered Ivar; he was dragging himself across the sparsely grass covered ground. 

He probably didn’t have time to grab his crutches.

“We need your help.” He spoke with a smile. A darkness had settled in his blue eyes, a darkness that sent a shiver down your back. 

You and Kyle exchanged a worried look before looking back to Ivar. 

“We’re here to help.” You spoke through a mask of false confidence.

Please, please, please don’t ask for a miracle.  

@eating-pie-in-the-tardis @titty-teetee  @doklausoneverysurfacepossible @iamwarrenspeace @fandoms-and-flannels @thehunterofthelord @justacrush @thefangirlsoul @florenceivy @marauderette130 @tis-itheapplepie @vaisabu @salty-holographic-stickers

[therealcalicali]

Thank you @dangerousvikings 😍

Please check out:

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Sure I missed some peeps. Please forgive me😬

Vikings Follow Chain

Hey everyone!

Since I created a new blog and just recently rejoined the fandom, I thought it was time for another follow chain. I did one of these on my first blog (cherrytrinkets) and it helped me find 100+ friends and members of the fandom to talk to and obsess with! If you write for, blog about, or just generally love History Channel’s Vikings, follow the previous people, add your blog name and reblog so others can follow you!=] Skol!

Tagging some who may be interested:

@bluearchersstuff

@bonniebird

@wanderlustingandwandering

@salimahbicharara-comun

@missbrightlyred

@brightlycoloredteacups

@sammi-faye

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Ariose

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Sigurd Snake in the Eye/Reader Warnings: N/A Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: @whenimaunicorn gave me the words Afterglow and Ariose, obviously I went with Ariose.  ariose (adj.): characterized by melody; songlike Spring and Sigurd to me, are songlike. 

The sun setting over Kattegat was nothing short of spectacular this evening, the birds were chirping their happiest songs while the blooms on the trees began to poke out. The cold had lasted far too long and it was heartwarming to see the signs of new life all around you.

Sitting on the small stoop of your cottage, you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and sigh in content. By now you should be headed for the great hall, joining the others in a feast to honour the gods and those who will be sailing out on the raids soon.

Instead you sit on the creaky wood, built by your own hands to satisfy your need to be useful. A few of the town's children rush by, yelling and whooping as their wooden swords clash against one another. They are feeling the warm weather, as well.

"Careful there, you don't want to hurt anybody." The familiar voice warns the children, gaining your attention. Looking up from your seat, you see the third son of Queen Aslaug striding toward you.

Dressed to impress and clean from the days spent training, with his brothers. His dark blue and green tunic new for the feast, it looks better than you could have imagined. You had worked on the garment for a long time, as a gift for the prince.

"Sigurd." You greet him, patting the space beside you.

"Gods woman, you are taking long enough. Where have you been? I've been pacing the hall waiting." Sigurd huffs in a playful manner, accepting your offer to sit.

The stoop is muddy but he doesn't mind. Sitting beside you, Sigurd nudges you with his shoulder and leans in like he has a great secret to tell.

"I have a new song. You must come, allow me to play for you." He is eager in his words.

"You and your songs, will you ever stop?" You tease, flicking his nose with the tip of your finger. Sigurd is talented and bold, not in the same way as his brothers, but that is what makes him special.

Any man can try to impress a woman with an axe, but a man who impresses her with his heart is far more valuable. Bjorn is strong, Ubbe firm, Hvitserk impulsive, and Ivar fierce but Sigurd...he is sweet and that has drawn you to him.

Sigurd wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, fair red braids following the motion. "The Gods themselves could not stop me, from singing of your beauty, my love."

A real poet he is.

"You say that to all the ladies." You continue to torment the young prince. Knowing that Sigurd has had his way with one or two other women, although he claims he could never love another in the way he loves you.

"I do not!" Sigurd protested with a huff, he hates it when you tease him like this.  "I shall prove it to you, but you must come to the feast first."

"And if I am not in the mood? What if I want to stay here? The two of us?"

"You are impossible." Sigurd boldly leans in to kiss your cheek.

Returning the chaste kiss, the smile on your face is so bright it is beginning to hurt your cheeks. "You tell me it is why you love me."

"I love many things about you, my love." Sigurd confesses. "It is in every song I sing about the fair maiden who has taken my heart."

@lisinfleur, @ultra-nina-bella, @tis-itheapplepie,  @float-autumn-leave , @kawennote09, @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @piebytheocean, @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden @angelaiswriting, @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly , @vikingsandetc -  if you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to do so Here 

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@tis-itheapplepie thank you💖💖

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✿ Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile! ✿

You are wonderful my love!!! 

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[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Summary: (Y/N) has done her job, now Ivar must do his.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

The sleep came easily enough, even easier considering that you had gone all day with no rest and unbeknownst to you it was the most rest you would receive in months.

In the land of the living it had been three days and you hadn’t had a clue, for you it was just like any other dream. Time was irrelevant and nothing important to worry about as you walked around the abandoned market. With the information you now had you came to the conclusion that this was a Viking age settlement.

And just knowing that much made you eager to look around and see everything. How many people could say they had seen something like this? It would be an opportunity lost if she didn’t explore.

You were still in your hospital gown and had been barefoot before you found some shoes that were too big but they stayed on.

Viking mud is still mud after all.

There was so much to see, there were stands that had vegetables and fruits and less attractive ones that had dead animals hug up on display. Further into the market area you found jewelry and long stretches of fabric. Most were brown or white but others were absolutely gorgeous colors like red, blue and gold.

It was while you were touching a blue silk fabric that you heard something behind you.

Muddy footsteps.

It made a wet squishing noise; squish squish squish, getting closer but not at a rushed speed. 

Whoever was behind you felt no need to rush.

You turned around; fully expecting to see the man with no eyes to be standing there with a new riddle for you to solve, but that wasn’t who it was.

It was you.

The woman standing before you had your face, she was older maybe in her twenties or early thirties, her hair was longer than you could imagine growing yours and it was in a braid that rested plainly over her shoulder. She was wearing a brown dress and leather shoes.

Despite how much you had looked into mirrors you had never seen yourself like this.

‘Y-you.’ you managed to say when you found the will to speak.

‘You.’ the woman smiled.

‘Do you know who I am?’ she asked as she stepped closer to you.

Instinctively you stepped back.

‘Your name is Wilda, you are a Saxxon woman.’ you replied.

‘I am, or maybe I was. It is hard to understand even for me, I have been dead for so long and yet here I stand speaking with you.’ she mused.

She walked over to the fabric you were just holding and rubbed it curiously.

‘I had been wanting this fabric when I died, the woman who made this was the best seamstress in all of Kattegat.’

‘Kattegat? Is that the name of this place?’ 

‘Yes, this is where it all began. This is where it all happened, where your fate was sealed with the Boneless One. I must apologize, for I am also responsible for involving you in all this, but please know I didn’t wish for any of it.’ she said sadly.

It was weird seeing yourself like this, it was like watching yourself in a movie but you had no memory of acting in it. Either way this woman...this you, was talking and it was understandable.

‘Can you tell me what happened, why am I involved and what will happen after Ivar accepts his past life?’ you asked.

‘I do not know it all, but I will tell you what I know, come walk with me, I want you to see something.’ she said as she began to walk away from the fabric stand.

You walked beside her, still keeping a bit of distance.

‘I was a child of the church, in York. When I was a small child the city was raided by the Sons of Ragnar and their Heathen Army. I barely survived but after they took over Ivar took me in as a slave.’

‘Why?’

‘I was often the apprentice to the healers after men would come from battle. I would take care of his legs with salves and oils. He hated me, it was simply a fact but he valued my care through the years.’

‘Why did you marry him?’

‘Years had passed and I’d seen him do...horrific things, he’d won great victories and suffered massive losses then all at once he was just losing. Battle after battle his plans failed him, he was losing his fame, becoming a joke among warlords.’

As the two of you walked past the last stand of the market she led you through a trail in the woods.

‘At his wits end he called on the seer.’

‘Seer? The man with no eyes?’ you asked. 

She nodded.

‘He sees peoples’ fates and speaks with the Pagan Gods. He told Ivar that the Gods had abandoned him; that they had favored his father Ragnar despite the disrespectful way he viewed them, and they would not show Ivar the same mercy if he followed his father’s footsteps.’

‘Ragnar? I thought he was a myth.’

‘People spoke of him as if he were, but he was a real man with real feelings. Ivar loved him despite the strain his broken legs put on their relationship, and like his father he began to place too much pride in his own importance.’ 

‘Broken legs...he really couldn’t walk could he.’ you said in amazement.

‘Not on his own he made braces to keep himself upright, really they were amazing to see. Even I, who despised him, felt a small amount of admiration for his resilience.’

‘I grew up in his care, he never hurt me but he was cruel. When he came to me demanding my hand in marriage I didn’t understand. He told me it was life or death, he said he would have the church in York reduced to ashes if I refused.’

‘How romantic.’ you said sarcastically.

‘I thought so as well. From what was told to me Ivar had gotten everyone close to him cursed, exiled from all their nine worlds, left to wait for the reincarnations of both Ivar the Boneless and a Christian Girl to to reunite and his guilt alongside her love and forgiveness would be the light that lead them to Valhalla.’

‘My love?’ you asked in embarrassed shock.

‘Yes, you love him and I know it.’

‘How can you know something like that? Do you feel my emotions or something, because I’m not sure if it is more than a crush.’ you said in your defense.

Wilda laughed and was odd to hear it, you recognized it as your own laughter but you never heard from someone else.

‘My sweet girl, you are not the first reincarnation, and your Ivar isn’t the first either, if God wills it you will be the last.’

‘I’m not the first? How many have there been and what happened to them?’

‘They all end up here eventually.’ Wilda answered as at last the two of you had arrived at your destination.

You were in a large clearing. There was nothing else there to take your eyes away from what was in the center.

Two graves, both empty and two piles of dirt waiting to fill them in once there was a body inside.

Your heart was lead.

‘It is never painful, for any of them, you’ll just go to sleep.’

‘But I- I’m sleeping now...am I am I d-‘

‘No, you are alive outside I promise. All you have to do is wait, wait for Ivar to accept his faults and remorse.’

‘And if he doesn’t then what? You’re saying I can’t do anything for myself? What kind of misogynistic bullshit is this? I thought Viking women had rights of their own.’ you ranted angrily as you paced, looking away from the graves.

‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t Viking, even if I did follow their beliefs I was a thrall. I had no rights before my marriage and even with that title I was still Christian.’

‘So what? Just sit here with you and wait?’ 

‘Yes, do you have faith that your Ivar will save you?’

‘Of course!’ you shouted so suddenly that it surprised you.

All at once it hit you how much faith you had in Ivar, the one thing you had no doubt about was that he would do anything for you.

He cared for you, even if not romantically, he cared about you; and no matter what he had to do he would save you.

Or he would die trying.

‘Then wait.’ Wilda said sweetly.

Ivar’s POV

The last three days had brought about a lot of chaos.

(Y/N)’s family was devastated by the news, her siblings were scared and her mother was in complete shambles. Miss (Y/L/N) had called your father who flew out with his wife and other kids and had arrived on the second night. 

His own family had been affected as well, he had been too shaken up and crushed by guilt that he couldn’t drive so he just sat in his car feeling sorry for himself and crying harder than he had since he was a child. His brothers ended up tracking his phone and once he had calmed down he explained what had happened.

No one in the Ragnarson family could ever remember seeing Ivar this distraught before, even his parents sat aside their marital issues enough to sit in the waiting room with Ivar and (Y/N)’s family.

It was strange to see for Ivar.

His family loved each other in their own odd constipated way, but they rarely got together like this. Even Bjorn and Lagertha showed up once, apparently they all wanted to be there for him but he suspected they just couldn't get over the fact that he had a friend.

Every day there were at least four people in the waiting room for (Y/N) and one of the most constant residents was Ivar.

He hadn’t even gone to school, all he could do was sit and watch...and think about things. Think about what he had to do, because no matter what logic told him he just knew this was his fault. She was a human vegetable and was because of him.

That thought alone made his head hurt, he was constantly taking pain killers that did little to ease his headaches.

He was on his phone watching the same video he had seen a thousand times it felt like.

The footage from (Y/N)’s sleep study. 

Her mother had demanded the footage, in hopes to find some kind of clue about what led to (Y/N)’s sudden seizure. She expected to see an administration of medicine or maybe even a nurse sneaking in, anything to explain it.

Unfortunately there was nothing on the film that the doctors hadn’t already explained. For about an hour she was sleeping peacefully, a bit of uncomfortable tossing and then, like a firecracker had startled her, she shot up.

Her body convulsing as she thrashed around so violently that she fell out of the bed and if the visual wasn’t upsetting enough the scream she let out after she landed on the floor was absolutely blood churning.

She was screaming loud and shrill at the top of her lungs, all the while her body never stopped shaking, her limbs were endlessly flailing. The nurses and doctors had rushed in to restrain after only forty seconds or so but it felt so much longer to Ivar.

He watched how carefully Herald administered the sedative and the way (Y/N)’s body went immediately limp. Ivar closed the video once the doctors started hurriedly checking her vitals.

Ivar sighed and stood up to stretch, the joints of his shoulder blades cracking in protest as he did so.

‘Going home for the night Ivar?’ Miss (Y/L/N) asked as she yawned in her own chair.

‘No, just going to the restroom, might get a coffee.’ he assured.

‘Grab me one please.’

‘Of course.’ Ivar said happily.

He didn’t really need to use the toilet, just needed to move around. His legs were getting sore and he needed to take his pills and he preferred to do that in private.

‘I would have killed for a treatment like that in my life.’

The color drained from his face as he looked in the mirror and saw a most unwelcomed sight.

‘I get the feeling you don’t like me much...understandable I suppose.’ the old man said from behind him.

His heart suddenly swelled with anger as he turned and swung, ready to feel his fist connect with the bearded face of this bastard, but it didn’t.

All that happened was his fist went right through him, as if he were air, with nothing solid to connect to he stumbled to regain balance.

‘I’m sure had I been alive that would have been a solid attack, were you done or do you want to waste more time? Because your Christian doesn’t have much to waste.’ the old man said tiredly.

Ivar turned around and glared, but it softened a bit when he saw something he hadn’t noticed before in his anger.

The old man was standing.

There were unpainted metal braces on the viking’s legs that seemed to be the only thing keeping him up, along with the cane he was using.

‘Why are you here?  Are you going to kill her now, brain dead not enough for you? She has nothing to do with this, whatever bullshit this all is, leave her out of it!’ Ivar shouted, not caring if someone heard him yelling to himself.

‘My Christian had nothing to do with my problems either, and had she been as selfish as I was she would have refused to take part. Then I would be cursed with no hope of redemption, and both of our Christians would have had longer and probably happier lives without us.’ he said tiredly.

‘But she was soft, she felt it was her stupid Christian duty to help others over herself. Despite her resentment for me, and mine of her, she agreed to help my family and for that I want to repay my debt to her. In order to do that I need you to see me.’

‘I do see you.’ Ivar argued.

‘No. You see an old man in strange clothes but you don’t see yourself in me at all do you? It's frustrating because you are the last and most important piece to this complicated puzzle. The Christian, her job was to find us, you and me, now you have to see us. Really look at me and see yourself...she will die if you don’t and the loss of her will drive you mad.’ 

He felt like ripping out his hair in frustration, Ivar had never been this angry. In his youth anger was the backbone of his personality, he was angry because his legs hurt, he was angry he couldn’t talk to anyone other than his brother because he didn’t have any friends, he was always angry. But this was pure rage; red hot and scalding, he was angry because he was terrified.

‘What do you mean she will die?’ 

‘Her body is here where you can see it, but her essence is in the void between the nine worlds and a living person can only stay there a short while before their body lets them go completely. Please if not for me and my family or yourself do it for her.’

For her, all at once his anger left him.

‘J-just look at you?’ he repeated.

‘See me...and look into you.’

Ivar felt like fire ants were covering his entire body, his stomach felt ready to rid itself of the crappy hospital lunch he’d had earlier, his heart felt like it was frozen in ice; and all that paled in comparison to his headache.

He had only met the eyes of the old man for a few seconds and already he wanted nothing more than to look away.

For her.

Ivar dug his nails deeply into the palms of his hand as he held the man’s gaze.

‘There you go, see me...see all we have done.’

Then as if zoomed in like a scene from a movie he could see images in the blue pupils, and what he saw made him want to look away even more.

He saw...a boy with a dirty face it looked like he was trying to pull something, suddenly he felt like there was something leather in his hand and he pulled it back he felt the boy in the eye pull it back and suddenly he struck his hand out with all his might and watched as the boy in the eye was hit in the head by the blade of an axe.

‘No!’ he gasped in horror.

‘Don’t look away, no matter how terrible or how ashamed. Do not look away.’ the viking said, but his voice was different now. It wasn’t as hoarse as before it appeared to be...younger in a way.

The boy faded away and he saw something worse than the boy.

‘Sigurd?’

In the eye there was his brother, his hair long, his clothes strange and he was talking and Ivar wished more than anything that he couldn’t hear what his own brother was saying, but he did, clear as a bell in his mind was his older brother’s voice.

‘It must be hard for you now that your mummy’s dead. Knowing she was the only one who ever really loved you.’ Sigurd said in a strange dialect as he sipped something from a chalice.

Hurt and anger swelled and he felt something wet and thick touch his lip and distantly his mind realized his nose was bleeding heavily, again his arm jerked forward and watched an axe fly and plant itself in his brother's ribs.

‘Sigurd…’ he whimpered as his eyes began to overflow with tears.

If anyone came into this restroom they would see him standing still as a statue, staring into space as his nose bled like a red river and his eyes leaked like faucets.

‘Don’t look away, don’t run from what you have already done.’ 

‘Sigurd...Siggy I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-’ he choked on the lump in his throat, the blood from his nose leaked into his mouth as he spoke and the taste was horrid but it felt nostalgic in a horribly gruesome way.

Again the image in the eyes changed and this one was more than the image it practically sucked him in like a portal.

No longer was he in a hospital restroom; he was in a stone building and there was so much noise, loudest of all was a baby crying. He could recall this, the dream, the one he remembered in the truck that night with (Y/N) the one that made his nose bleed.

This time it was so much more, it felt like his brain was exploding in his skull, he felt an aching throb in his ears but it didn’t compare to the horror he was seeing and hearing.

He could smell burning flesh, feel the heat and as the melted gold poured into the crying man’s mouth; the screams would haunt him until his last breath.

In horror he felt his chest shake in laughter.

Just when Ivar thought he would pass out from the pain in his head he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. His legs were breaking under his weight, but that wasn’t possible, he had titanium bones, they could never break but still he felt it. Even worse so he heard that familiar cracking noise as he fell to the floor.

‘Hold strong, we both know you can take more than this, and there is so much more to see.’ now Ivar was certain the voice he heard wasn’t the voice of an old man.

That was his own voice, and he suddenly processed that he wasn’t being sucked into the eye, but the eye was moving closer to him.

No longer was the phantom standing on crude braces as an old and ragged man. Now he was crawling, using his strong arms to pull himself along, his legs dragging behind him like a useless tail.

More than anything Ivar wanted to look away and see what the face of this man looked like now but he couldn’t.

For her… for (Y/N).

He stilled himself and tried to brace himself for more pain he was sure would come.

He had been right, more pain came and no amount of preparation would have made him ready for it.

A thousand or a million images flashed in the eye going so fast it shouldn’t have been possible to follow each one, but he could. Not only did he see and comprehend each image he felt them.

He saw the light go out in a fat man’s eyes as someone was chopping into his back with an ax, he felt the muscles in his arms ache with the effort it took to stab through the muscle and bones of a man in the heat of battle.

That was when he realized that these images, these senses were all things he’d seen and experienced before.

These were his dreams.

 ‘Yes, you are remembering. That is good, almost done now; look at me.’

At last that horrible eye closed, and Ivar nearly collapsed in relief, but he kept just enough energy to look up at the face that carried the eye.

There was no longer a beard to hide anything from view he could see the face in front of him with complete clarity.

This truly was his face, it was like looking into a mirror but this mirror showed what he looked like before.

‘Finally...you see me.’ He smiled.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Summary: (Y/N)’s sleep study goes horribly wrong.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

Sitting at the table you had continued the research you had begun the day before, you had been knee deep in articles since you had sent your sibling off to school that morning and it was almost time for them to get out.

Not that they would be coming back home after school; your mother had to stay on location for a few days and for tonight you couldn’t hold down the fort because you had your own appointment.

Dr. Finehair said he had a specialist come in to conduct a sleep study to see if maybe it was a brainwave disturbance causing your sleeping problems and he wanted you to try and sleep as long as you could.

Without meaning to you had let your mind wander back to your phone call with Ivar yesterday.

After you hung up you spared a moment to think about how abruptly Ivar decided to end the call, it seemed like something was wrong with him.

You figured he would tell you when he felt the need to talk about it, so you went back to your research on Ivar the Boneless.

History was one of your favorite subjects because it’s like a story that really happened once upon a dark and twisted time.

The more you read the more you wanted to put it all aside and never look at it again, which was odd for you. Normally you loved the dark part of history, you believed that no country can ever grow without looking back at its history.

American history was your usual topic but this was a completely new ballpark, and Ivar the Boneless didn’t really feel like light reading. Especially when you couldn’t help but picture your best friend performing a Blood Eagle in order to avenge his father.

His father was another matter that needed researching, you had to look into as much as you could. Any small piece of information could be vital to figuring out this whole thing.

Whatever this thing was.

Your stomach growled and snapped you out of your own head, you sat aside your laptop and stretched before you stood up from your kitchen table.

The kitchen window gave your neighbor a good enough view that she could just walk by and see that you weren’t sleeping.

It didn’t surprise you that your mother didn’t trust you to stay awake on your own accord, because you also didn’t trust yourself to not take a nap.

God you needed a nap.

With a sigh you went and made yourself a quick bowl of ramen to ease your hunger without overfilling yourself.

It was about an hour before Ivar would be released.

He was going to drive you to the hospital and wait for you, meaning he would sleep in an uncomfortable waiting room or even worse his truck. It felt odd that he would do that for you, and even though you had asked him to, you thought he’d decline.

Suddenly your phone chimed with a message.

I’m leaving early be there in ten - Ivar

Cool, we can just chill until it’s time to go - (Y/N)

You looked at the phone and couldn’t help but second guess if that message was good enough, or if you should have added any emojis.

Ugh, this was not good, how could you have suddenly developed feelings for him; Ivar of all people. The guy you were trying to get to remember his past life.

A life in which he was married to you while being old enough to be your grandfather.

You groaned in mild annoyance and complete confusion as you went upstairs to change out of the pajamas you had been lounging in.

The minutes passed like seconds and soon Ivar was at your door.

Fighting the urge to double check yourself in the mirror you went downstairs to let him in.

‘Hey, I got your schoolwork.’ he said handing you a folder.

‘Boo.’ you whined as you looked at the assignments.

‘You’re welcome, not like I went out of my way to get them for you or anything.’ Ivar sassed.

‘Thank you, think you can help me with this...I hate math.’

‘I know, sure I’ll help.’

You led him to the kitchen and subtly motioned to the open window and waved at your neighbor who waved back.

The older woman looked at Ivar in confusion and Ivar waved politely before he sat at your table.

‘So are we starting with math first?’

‘Hell no, tell me about the man with no eyes.’ you said bluntly.

‘I don’t know much, man doesn’t like being in the public eye. Got rich through genius investments but he seems to come from old money despite the fact that no information on his family is available. My father said he was one of his first clients.

‘So it's not like he just time traveled to get here, he’s well established. Covered in mystery but still real, does that mean he’s been alive this whole time?’ you asked.

‘I would guess so but that doesn’t seem humanly possible.’ Ivar said back.

‘Maybe he isn’t human then, at this point we can’t afford to think too logically anymore, the new motto is if we can explain it then we can accept it.’

‘Inspirational.’ he hummed.

‘Thank you, I’m truly a poetic soul.’ you joked.

‘Yeah... there is more though, he knew too much.’

That got your attention, not because of what Ivar had said but the way he said it, like he wasn’t talking about something he’d experienced. It was as if he was talking about someone else he didn’t know.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He knew about my family, but it didn’t feel like he looked us up. He just...knew too much.’ Ivar tried to clarify.

‘What did he know?’

‘Dad was introducing us and he said this wasn’t all us...he knew two of us weren’t there and he was right. Bjorn wasn’t there and he knew about Gida...almost no one knows about Gida, Dad never talks about her except on her birthday.’

‘Who is Gida?’ you asked.

‘My sister, well half sister if you want to be politically correct. My dad’s first wife had two kids Bjorn and Gida, when his first company was just becoming successful he had to leave town a lot and on one trip he was told Gida had died of influenza.’

‘Oh my God, I’m sorry.’ you said sympathetically.

‘It’s ok, she died way before I was born, I’ve only seen a few pictures but I don’t know anything about her, but that guy did. He knew that none of us ever saw her and he knew she was sick, and I could tell that dad was surprised by him knowing.’

Now Ivar was looking off into the distance as if he himself wasn’t even here sitting at your table right now. It was as if he was mentally somewhere else, probably trying to come up with a scenario where his father would have talked about this girl named Gida.

‘Hey, calm down. We can put a pin in it for right now if you want to, I actually do need to get some of my homework done.’ you tried to comfort.

Ivar nodded and took in a deep breath and let it all out.

You actually managed to put most of your focus on stupid equations that no one would ever need in real life, but you couldn’t help but think about how hard this was all becoming now.

Ivar was in complete denial of who he must have been in his past life, anytime you brought it up he shuts down or starts bleeding. How much more proof did he need and what will he do when he can’t deny it any more?

By some miracle you finished all your assignments with mild confidence that it was at least a B+, Ivar was apparently putting all his focus on helping you.

Pretty soon it was time for the two of you to head out if you wanted to get to the hospital in time for your appointment.

The ride was uneventful, just casual talk about school and plans for next weekend; pretty much you talked about anything but the elephant in the room.

While you rode you were very proud of yourself for keeping things casual. It was as if you had pushed aside that mild panic you felt about the possibility of you having a crush on the guy next to you.

At the hospital you filled out some papers while Ivar was chatting with the lady at the desk, it was the same one from your first visit.

Her name was Helga, she was a blond woman who looked no older than twenty seven tops, but she spoke to Ivar as if she were an forty year old aunt.

‘Are you her ride home? She could be here for a while, your mother will worry.’ Helga asked.

‘Mother always does, I let her know I’d be home late if it makes you feel better.’ he assured.

‘It doesn’t.’

You felt kinda awkward interrupting to let her know you were done with the papers.

She took them and led you into an examination room where a male nurse took your vitals and gave you a gown to wear.

After a minute Dr. Finehair came in with another doctor who you had to assume was the specialist who would be conducting the study.

‘Hello Ms. (Y/N), I’m Dr. Finehair.’

You made a confused face and sent a looked between the two men.

‘My little brother, if it helps you can call him Halfdan.’ your doctor explained.

‘Don’t worry the smarter one is in charge.’ Halfdan smiled politely.

It was strange how easily his charm seemed to relax you, but you guessed as a doctor he had to have amazing bedside manners.

‘I’ve looked over all of your test results and it seems to be nothing physically with your body, other than what could be expected from an exhausted teenager.’ he said as he began placing little stickers on your temples, scalp face, chest and legs.

Both doctors were very nice and the small talk did help to pass the time while Halfdan was placing sensors on your body.

‘The main purpose of the study is to see what your brainwaves are up to when you go to sleep. If there is anything unusual then we can know what to focus on and see what tests need to be run on you. OK?’ he explained.

‘I understand, how long do I need to sleep?’

‘As long as you can, did you need any sleeping aids, I see it’s been prescribed to you.’

‘Not necessary, I’m ready to crash whenever you give me the go ahead Doc.’ you smiled.

‘Oh well don’t let me stop you, we are going to leave the room, the sensors are connected to a machine, we will monitor the room as well record video.’

‘What if I have to use the restroom? I guess I should have asked before you started.’

‘It is fine, we can disconnect you, all you have to do is let us know.’

‘Alright you are all set to go, we will leave you to it ma’am.’

The two men left and it only took you about thirty seconds to go to sleep.

******************************************************************* Ivar’s POV

The hospital was unusually quiet today, not empty by any means, but it seemed nothing horribly urgent had happened since he’d gotten here.

Every person that came in was calm and in good enough shape to explain why they were here and what they were feeling.

Of course that would be expected because this hospital was a bit out of the way, too far from the busy highways where most car accidents tend to happen.

There was also the fact that this was a very expensive hospital, with amazing security, top of the line technology and the best doctors you can get.

All of his surgeries had been done here, because on top of all those other great qualities this hospital assured each patient complete privacy. No matter who the patient was or how much money their secrets were worth.

Ivar was sitting there, in one of the uncommonly comfortable waiting room chairs, scrolling through social media on his phone when a sudden wave of lightheadedness hit him.

His vision blurred to the point where he had to sit his phone aside and shake his head in an effort to clear his head.

‘I see you Boneless.’

Ivar flinched at the sudden voice, but more than that he flinched at the name.

He looked up and what he saw was impossible, so very impossible that even the thought of it made him think that he was going mad.

There is no other explanation for what was sitting in the chair across from him.

It was himself.

His own face, slightly hidden behind a thick and graying beard, but all the same it was obviously his face. His eyes, nose and teeth...his face.

‘No.’ he breathed.

‘But yes, you wouldn’t believe what all had to be sacrificed for us to chat, and I’m sad to say that my being here is not good news.’

‘You aren’t here.’ Ivar whispered.

‘No, not really; neither are you, not completely. Neither of us can ever truly be anywhere until we are together. Until you accept that you are me, I did my part; I died...and I waited.’

‘Waited for what? For two teenagers to meet to clean up a mess you made thousands of years ago?’ he snapped angrily, barely managing to keep his voice down.

‘I didn’t want to do this, I saw no point in it. I was fully prepared to accept the punishment the Gods felt I deserved, but it wasn’t just me...and it isn’t just you. Everyone you love and care about, they are all being punished for my deeds, our deeds.’

‘Your deeds.’ Ivar spat.

‘Our...deeds.’

‘Ivar.’

This time Ivar jumped clean out of his chair, partially due to being so suddenly startled but mostly to look away from this thing with his face.

Herald was there and just the look on his face told him something was wrong; horribly wrong.

‘What happened?’

‘Helga is calling her mother now, Ivar I need you to be calm. I can see how much you care for her and I know you will worry, but losing your composure won’t help anything do you understand?’ Herald said seriously.

‘Tell me what happened.’ Ivar repeated quietly, almost certain he didn’t want the answer but he needed it all the same.

‘(Y/N) is brain dead.’

‘What? She was just here for a sleep study. What the hell happened?!’ Ivar hissed.

The hairs on the back of his neck was standing up and he couldn’t think of a time where he had been this scared.

‘We don’t know. I wouldn’t even be saying any of this to you if her mother hadn’t listed you as one of (Y/N)’s emergency contacts.’

‘Tell me!’ Ivar snapped.

Herald sighed in mild annoyance but his look remained professional.

‘Her vitals were excellent, no sleep aids were administered. Neither me or Halfdan can explain what happened, I was monitoring her on camera and he was watching her brainwaves. Out of nowhere the waves flat-line and she is seizing up.’

‘She had a seizure?’

‘Yes. A non epileptic seizure, but a seizure nonetheless; we had to risk sedating her before she hurt herself. I wish I could tell you something, anything to explain what went wrong, but I don’t know. I checked her for every physical condition I can think of as a medical doctor and there is nothing to see.’

Ivar was speechless, he didn’t know what to say, even if he did he wouldn’t trust his voice to say it without breaking.

‘When her mother arrives I will explain it to her and what happens next will be her decision.’

‘Can I see her?’ he asked softly.

‘Yes, but do not move her. We are not sure what is causing the problem and we won’t know until we can get her in a CAT scan.’

‘CAT scans, do you think it’s cancer?’ Ivar asked, his eyes wide and his heart filled with dread.

‘I can not say, even suggesting it with no test done I could lose my license. For right now I need you to keep calm while we try to figure out what exactly is happening.’

Ivar nodded in understanding, he listened to the room number and made his way there; all the while thinking about everything.

He thought about the imaginary creature that spoke to him in the waiting room.

“My being here is not good news” that’s what he said and he was right.

He remembered when he had first met her in the hallway; he couldn’t stop thinking about her in class, when he saw her at the table with his brothers he was happy to see her. Even happier that he liked her and saw her as a great friend.

A friend was something he’d never had before and he had thought this was why he wanted to keep her so close, but it wasn’t.

Ivar knew that now, he wouldn’t be this worried and concerned for a friend.

He loved (Y/N), he loved her and right now she was brain dead because of the actions of a dead man.

Because of his actions.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: Ivar’s family have a very peculiar lunch guest.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight

Ivar arrived home with a little over an hour to spare.

He was happy to say his legs were no longer burning in hot flames of pain and had died down to the usual dull simmering pain that he was used to dealing with.

As he walked to the stairs he took a moment to be childish and flick off the elevator.

He took a shower and for whatever reason his mind started to wonder, thinking about the series of unfortunate events that occurred last night.

The thought of himself being the great Viking king that his mother named him after was still too outlandish for him to think about. The splitting headache and nosebleed did little to encourage him to think about it.

So his mind moved on.

He thought of (Y/N), the way she accepted his legs, she didn’t immediately get that stupid look of pity or false empathy. No her eyes didn’t soften, nothing had changed in her eyes. She still saw him as she had before, and he was very happy for that.

Being in the family he came from he couldn’t find many friends, not any real ones anyway. His brothers could handle having friends who were drawn to the money and fame, but Ivar couldn’t stand people like that. He couldn’t explain it too well, but he could always see it, the hungry way people looked at him.

Like he was a walking ATM and if they could just get close enough to him then the money would never stop flowing.

All of them had the mutual understanding that none of the Ragnarson children ever wanted to be pushed into the public eye. No magazine articles or press interviews, but still they were hard not to recognize if only for the way their mother seemed to flaunt their wealth around.

(Y/N) had never seen the designer clothes his mother dressed him in or heard about out of country trips he had been dragged on.

Her eyes weren’t hungry, and he liked that.

Ivar liked to be around her, he liked the conversation with her and the way she never asked for favors, anything he did for her was his own choice and it always would be.

(Y/N).

His mind wandered to her in the car, when his nose had bled. With no hesitation she gave him the very shirt off her back. That thought made him think about her sitting in his passenger seat, topless and blushing. The way her face became an ungodly red when he had stupidly invaded her personal space.

Then it all went south, his mind decided to be treacherous and focus on that moment before the cop knocked on the window.

Ivar immediately shook his head and wrapped up his shower, if he set the water to ice cold for a few seconds then he’d never admit it.

Deciding to shut up his mind Ivar put in his earbuds and blasted his music while he got dressed, he walked past his real closet full of clothes he had picked up in shops and went to his second one.

The one his mother filled with brands that “people of their status” should be wearing, he picked up a suit without giving it a glance before he started putting it on with practiced ease.

As he was tying back his hair Hvitserk barged in the room, in a suit of his own.

‘Looking spiffy, bet (Y/N) would have loved to see it.’ his brother smiled as he sat on the bed.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar rolled his eyes as he took out his earbuds.

‘What did you wear to see her last night? Birthday suit?’ Hvitserk teased.

‘I said shut up, some people can be friends with girls and not have sex with them.’ Ivar sassed.

‘Of course they can, that just doesn’t seem to be the case for you Ivy.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘So you’re going to tell me that you...Ivar Hogh Ragnarson, got up in the middle of the night to meet a girl and nothing scandalous happened.’

‘Yes, nothing happened.’ Ivar said tiredly.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second, why did you go out in the first place?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘I’m not going to keep talking about this, can we please just get downstairs before Mother comes looking for us.’ Ivar deflected.

Hvitserk rolled his eyes but he did sigh and got up, meaning that for now at least the subject was dropped.

The two of them headed downstairs to the dining area. As expected the table was covered in large expensive dishes, and of course none of it had been prepared by their mother.

The cook had truly outdone herself today, Ivar new his father must have given her quite a bonus for this feast.

At the head of the table was his father and his mother was sat in the seat on his right, both dressed in expensive brands.

Ubbe and Sigurd still hadn’t come down yet, but Ivar and Hvitserk took their seats across from each other.

‘Ivar...I heard the elevator. Are you feeling well?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes I am fine, I just woke up in the odd hours where my medicine wasn’t as effective as usual. So I went out for a drive while it kicked in.’ he said casually.

‘You went driving?’ his mother asked.

‘Yes, not too far, I was safe I promise.’ he soothed.

His mother bit at her lip and looked away before she took a sip from her wine glass, she always drank when she worried.

She was always worrying.

Thankfully before the silence could become awkward the two missing brothers came down and took their places at the table.

‘Boys, this lunch is with a very important client, one of my first clients when I started out and he brought me a lot of business by nothing but word of mouth. He is usually quiet and very much so a shut in, and he comes from old money.’

‘If he is a shut in why did he suddenly ask to have lunch?’ Ubbe asked.

‘No idea, but I couldn’t decline. Now, I know you all know how to behave in front of clients, but this client is completely blind so be sensitive to that. Do not mention it, do you all understand?’ his father asked.

Everyone agreed and the conversation moved to lighter things like school and stocks and what summer plans were in consideration. It was all idle chit chat to pass the time while they waited for their guest.

At long last their loud dramatic doorbell rang and one of the housekeepers led in a man using a white cane.

The man was very tall, and that was impressive considering the fact that Ivar was the shortest Ragnarson while standing at exactly six foot.

He had to be at least seven feet, his black suit was clearly custom tailored to his body in a way that made it hard to tell if his suit was filled out by fat or pure muscle. His eyes and forehead were completely hidden behind the largest pair of reflective sunglasses Ivar had ever seen.

His skin was as pale porcelain, it was very oddly accompanied by the most visible light blue veins beneath his flesh and the black lipstick that was smeared over his almost fish like lips.

‘Hello Ragnar.’ the man said, his voice large and raspy as he had been smoking since he could walk.

‘Hello old man.’ Ragnar said happily.

‘I’m as old as I’ll ever be and as young as I can be now.’ the man said.

‘There goes that wise man way of speaking you are so famous for.’ the father smiled happily.

‘And there is the smile you are famous for.’

‘You can see me smiling?’ Ragnar teased.

‘My eyes see nothing, but I see all...that is my curse.’ the man said as he took his seat.

The whole table was silent, not even his father, the great conversationalist that he was, could make light of such a cryptic thing.

‘Don’t be so tense, introduce me to your family so we can eat this delightful feast.’

‘Of course, family meet my great client Mr. Divine. This is my wife Aslaug, my boys that I’m always talking about; Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar.’

‘You are missing two...a boy and a girl…a poor sick girl no one here but you ever got to see.’

Ivar was stunned, and judging by the almost loud silence his family members were in the same state.

His father didn’t speak of his only daughter, the girl that died long before he had been born. From what he had been told his half sister Gida had caught a horrible case of influenza and she just didn’t have a strong enough immune system.

No matter how he tried he couldn’t imagine his father talking about Gida with a client, no matter how important.

‘Yes...we should enjoy the feast.’ Ragnar said, not as cheerful as he had been before.

At last the lunch finally began and while it took a minute the conversation did pick up. Despite that Ivar couldn’t shake this sick feeling.

The feeling he had at the restaurant when (Y/N)’s mother was talking about her findings, like his entire body was covered in ants. He was still polite to the guest, but he just couldn’t look at this man for more than a few seconds.

For such a large spread the actual lunch passed rather quickly, and eventually no one could eat another bite.

‘This was a fine lunch, but I do have several appointments lined up so I must be going.

All of a sudden Ivar couldn’t control himself, there was a question he needed to ask before this man left.

‘Mr. Divine? Is that your given name?’

‘Ivar.’ Ragnar warned.

His ears suddenly burned red in embarrassment at his rude outburst.

‘No need to worry Ragnar, with youth comes curiosity and recklessness. Walk me to the door boy.’ Mr. Divine said to him.

Ivar looked at his father and after he received an approving nod he stood and walked around to the other side of the table.

Mr. Divine stood as well and pushed back his chair from the table, he used his cane to get around the table.

Ivar didn’t move to guide him, partially not wanting to startle him but mostly knowing instinctively that this man wouldn’t appreciate him assuming he needed help.

The two walked out of the dining room and made their way to the door.

‘Do you remember me?’

Ivar looked at the man in confusion.

‘Have I met you before? I think I’d remember if I had, you do leave an impression if I must say.’ Ivar replied politely.

‘We have before, just not in this life.’ Mr Divine said as he stopped walking and took off his humongous sunglasses.

Ivar’s heart dropped so quickly into his stomach as if it had suddenly been turned to lead in his chest, his palms were nearly spraying out sweat and he felt like his body was turning into stone.

Mr. Divine didn’t have eyes.

Not empty sockets he could fill with glass prosthetic ones, but there was nothing but skin covering the place where eyes should have been.

“No eyes…” (Y/N)’s voice rang in his mind.

This was him, it had to be; the one who spoke to her directly.

‘I see you don’t recall me personally, but you are aware of me thanks to the Christian child.’ he said as he moved closer to Ivar.

‘You are the one who talks to her...how are you here, those dreams happened centuries ago?’ Ivar asked in complete shock.

‘Not dreams...you know they are more than that don’t you...Boneless one.’

This time Ivar outright flinched at his words.

‘I-I’m not-’

‘You are; run from it and deny it all you like but the fact remains you are and the faster you embrace it the better off everyone you care about will be.’ Mr. Divine said gravely as he put on his glasses once again.

‘I-’ Ivar didn’t know what he had meant to say but it didn’t matter, because the blind man had already walked away.

‘Long long years I have roamed this horrible world and I will continue until you accept the truth. I pray to all the Gods that you do not make the same selfish mistakes again, there are too many people at stake.’ Mr. Divine said before he left, closing the door behind him.

Never before had Ivar felt such an odd feeling, but the one thing that mattered was that he didn’t like the feeling at all.

He didn’t like the man’s eyeless, black lipped face and he liked his words even less than that.

Ivar didn’t know who this man was or how he was here but he knew that if he never saw that blind bastard again he would have no complaints. All he had done was say stupid things that didn’t answer his questions and left more confused than he was before.

Selfish.

Ivar wasn’t selfish at all, he donated a majority of his monthly allowance to multiple charities and whatever he had left he gave away to the homeless or beggars he saw on the streets.

Angrier than he had been in quite some time he gritted his teeth and walked back into the dining room.

The maids were cleaning the table while the others were still there talking about the lunch they had just had.

‘So you are telling people about her now Ragnar? You rarely speak of Gida even to me, he must be a very good friend.’ Aslaug said politely, but everyone knew it was anything but.

Ivar didn’t bother sitting back down and instead made his way back to his room, he heard his brothers coming up behind him on the stairs.

‘I honestly don’t understand why they have to fight all the time, don’t they get tired?’ Hvitserk sighed.

‘Lord knows they aren’t staying together for our sakes so what is the point? Not like Mom wasn't already an heiress before she met him.’ Sigurd asked in a sour tone.

‘Who knows, it doesn’t matter. I'm going out with some friends, I’ll be back in the morning.’ Ubbe said.

‘Can I tag along? I have nothing going on, but I certainly don’t want to stay here.’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Sure, you two wanna join?’ Ubbe offered.

‘Hell no, I have my own plans, taking a girl to a poetry slam and then a night on the town.’ Sigurd said dismissively.

‘No need to ask Ivar, he has plans with his girlfriend.’ Hvitserk said.

‘Oh he finally got official with (Y/N)? Good for him.’ Sigurd hummed casually.

‘I’m not official with her, I’m not unofficial with her because I’m just friends with her.’ Ivar said in his own defense.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second.’ Sigurd dismissed.

‘Funnily enough I said the same thing.’ Hvitserk added in agreement.

‘That’s because you idiots have two brain cells between the two of you and you’re sharing one of them.’ Ivar teased.

‘Whatever, you in or not?’ Ubbe asked in mild amusement at his younger brothers bickering.

‘No, gonna catch up on some Netflix documentaries, there’s a good one abou-‘

Ivar was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket, he pulled it out and looked at the contact.

My Literal Child

‘Might I suggest you change her contact info, looks creepy considering the change in your relationship.’ Ubbe said.

‘I would like to suggest you invite her over to Netflix and Chill.’ Sigurd grinned.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar said as he went into his room and closed the door.

He accepted the call and kicked off his shoes.

‘What’s up, except for your horrible timing?’ Ivar answered.

‘Hey so I’m super grounded.’ she said.

‘Can I ask why, hello by the way.’

‘Because my mother isn’t blind enough to miss a hideous truck in her driveway.’

Ivar outwardly facepalmed, he had been so pill loopy and pain struck that he hadn’t even thought about hiding his truck a few blocks down.

‘But luckily my mom likes you so much she isn’t mad enough to kill me. I am still on lock down with the exception of school and I won't be allowed any visitors unless it's a classmate for a group assignment for two weeks.’

‘That sucks but is there anything else, because I have some news that will blow your mind.’ Ivar replied.

‘Actually yes, the doctor called my mom on Friday to set up a sleep study for me on Monday night. Problem is my mom can’t make it and that hospital isn’t really walking distance from my house.’

Do you want me to take you, I can wait for you in the waiting room too.’ Ivar offered.

‘Thanks, now what is your news? Is it...you know?’ she asked quietly in a way that suggested she didn’t want anyone hearing what they were talking about.

‘Yeah. Do you remember that guy you told me about from your dreams, the one with no eyes?’

‘Hard to forget a face like that.’

‘I know tell me about it, I just saw him.’ Ivar said.

‘What do you mean you saw him? Like you dreamed about him? Did he say anything to you?’ (Y/N) asked eagerly.

‘No not in a dream, I mean I saw him. He was just sitting down with me and my family having lunch. He’s one of my father’s first clients, he looked no older than fifty tops.’ Ivar ranted.

‘That’s not possible, we already know that all this past life stuff happened in the Viking Age, that is centuries ago, there is no way he could still be alive. Maybe he’s like us and just looks like his ancestor.’ she suggested

‘No. I don’t think so. He pulled me aside and he asked me if I remembered him, he called me…’ Ivar didn’t even want to say it.

‘He called you what Ivar?’ she urged.

‘Boneless, (Y/N) he called me Boneless one. He said he’s lived many years and he will continue to live in this horrible world until I embrace who I am. He said the sooner I do the better everyone will be, he said too many people are at stake. The bastard called me selfish and he doesn’t even know me!’ Ivar vented, growing angrier with every word.

‘Ivar! Ivar calm down! Calm down!’ (Y/N) cried from the other line.

‘How! Some old fool just showed up speaking like a cartoon fortune teller and called me selfish!’ he seethed.

‘If you aren’t then why be upset!’

All at once Ivar’s anger left him, and it left his body feeling deflated like a balloon.

He still took a few deep breaths just to assure himself that he was actually calm.

‘Are you good now?’

‘Yeah, yeah I’m good; I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you.’ he apologized.

‘I know, you only yell when we talk about who you might have been before; it’s like your twisted version of a defense mechanism. Not that I can blame you, I’m currently looking into this guy and yeah I get being afraid to be him, I’m scared reading it.’

‘I’ve read everything about him, I know almost every theory and legend that even mentions his name.’ Ivar replied as he laid in his bed and looked up at his ceiling.

‘Who is your favorite fairy tale character?’ Ivar asked.

‘Alice from Alice in Wonderland.’ she replied without hesitation.

‘Imagine some caterpillar showing up and saying you’re the real Alice and you just don’t remember.’

‘I’m sure I’d be too freaked by a talking bug.’ she joked.

‘Well the guy looks like an insect.’ Ivar snipped.

‘That’s mean. How about tomorrow after you get out of school you come over and we can talk about this eyeless guy for a while before I have to go in for my sleep study.’

‘I thought you said no visitors.’

‘I did but I did say she likes you and she seems to trust you to make sure I don’t take a nap before my sleep study. My neighbor is going to be checking on me during school hours.’

‘OK, I’ll be there.’

‘Thanks, so we are good to go. Oh and Ivar...for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re selfish; you’re the most generous guy I’ve met.’

‘I’m happy that you think so, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Ivar said.

‘See you tomorrow Ivar.’ (Y/N) said before she hung up.

Ivar threw his phone down on his bed and closed his eyes.

She thought he was generous and that really made him feel bad about what he thought when Mr. Divine said too many people were at stake.

Why are they his responsibility?