#guthrum's fucking valkyrie

[kassandras-one-braincell]

My love for Soma continues to grow beyond what’s reasonable for a cluster of pixels, and it’s always Birna’s tales that catalyse it:

❝ Soma of Grantebridge. For a time, all the ealdormen of England wanted her dead. A bounty on her head the size of Yggdrasil.

She met with the leader of the South Gyrwans and told their King Roffe, “Say that you killed me. Proclaim it to all the lands.”

Roffe answered, “No one will believe me.” And Soma shook her head.

“Invite them. Here. You will burn me on a pyre for all to see.”

So they came, the nobles of East Anglia, north and south, of Mercia, of Wessex. They wished to see Guthrum’s Valkyrie die. Before all, King Roffe pronounced her guilty of murder and sentenced her to death. Then they put her on a boat and sit it afire.

Yet Soma had constructed a trap beneath the pyre. She released herself into the murky waters and swam to a bramble. Muddied and wet, she waited in the thorns for night to fall. She then returned to Cambridge as a shadow-walker.

She entered the city and stole into the king’s chamber, and took the head of Roffe, shouting, “Traitors of Soma wear no heads!”

The Saxons thought Soma a ghost! A spirit who kills! A curse invincible to fire and death! What a leader, my Soma. ❞

Like holy shit she’s so intelligent and can be downright feral. People literally thought she was inhuman for a time?? She was known as Guthrum’s Valkyrie - a literal harbinger of death - before that? And Wigmund really thought it was a smart idea to try and conquer that??? I love her.

Here’s a shitty splice of the story in-game. Under the cut to hide its ugliness.

[honestsycrets]

A Dog No Longer I

❛ request | this is a request for hvitserk’s 5crown, um i was wondering if you could possibly write something about reader rejecting his marriage proposal considering that their relationship was strictly for sex but he fell in love, then years later he sees her married to someone else and we see a little dark!hvit or like berserker!hvitty

for hvitserks 5crown, could you maybe write something where he is fed up being the brother who hasn’t accomplished much so he challenges another earl for their kingdom and wins but instead of removing the wife he marries her himself and she is like some incredible shield maiden and she really hates him but he’s hvit is determined to win her over ? thanks lots love your writing btw like so much

❛ word count | 2043

❛ genre | action 

❛ summary | You were always meant to be his. But you never took him seriously.

❛ warnings | dueling, character death, violence, jealousy, aggression, light humiliation

He had many women but never a wife. None gave him the desire to make her his wife. Or rather, none before the shield maiden (Y/N), Berseker’s Bane. When you entered the field his men felt a sense of rejuvenation. Long were the hours upon the field pressing on to claim land in the name of his brother Ubbe. So when you appeared and shouted with the howl of a Valkyrie, calling out to Odin and Freyja, they would shout with you.  They would handle the smaller sort of warriors and you, just like his brother Bjorn Ironside, would take care of berserkers. You had a knack for it and sought them out on a bloodied field of fear induced excrement.

Come here, son of Ragnar.

For some time he wondered if the introduction of sex was his idea or hers. If the way that she wove her hips in front of a lit flame in front of Torvi’s body, climbing over her with the pure intention of driving him wild, was all an act to bring a son of Ragnar into her bed. Every moment that you rode him, driving his cum out into your fertile womb was nothing to you. This was all for a purpose. To have a child from the house of Lothbrok growing within your stomach.

Did you think this was ever more than sex for me Hvitserk?

Did you think you were actually special?

One day-- You no longer wanted him.

You could never have me. You laughed and went on about your business leaving him to his with a stomach full of his child. Years passed and Ubbe passed in battle. Torvi, as she always claimed, went down with him. In the last years that he made up for the death of Guthrum with the life of his nephews, there was a rise in your name. That was fine… good. Good until he came to Aarhus and all went to shit.

“King Hvitserk!” The man bellows. Older, but not bad looking. His hair was cropped short, shaved around the sides. Snakes wrap from one side to another. Earl Eirikr was a fine earl. His people were well loved and cared for. Trade began to flourish in Aarhus, making it one of the larger trading points in his newly acquired lands. But… there was an issue.

The woman sitting beside him as his would be queen? That was you. He can barely recognize you donning beautiful golden dangling earrings that contrasted against the passionate red that drove his hand straight to his pants as he walked in beside his nephews. The old man welcomes him forward with his other hand around your waist.

“My wife has told me much about you!”

He bet he fucking did. You wore that fine, unrepentant pride with your head raised. Obviously you were proud that you had gotten one up on a son of Ragnar. That couldn’t stand. He wouldn’t let it.

“What brings you to Aarhus?” King Eirikr asks. Hvitserk comes to a stop in front of the older king, his hand upon the pommel of his braid. Hvitserk’s nose tickles as he shifts to look at him past fluffy furs.

“You have stolen the woman I intended to make my wife. I need to spill blood.” Hvitserk says. Eirikr glances to you with his stormy grey eyes worn by bags of his stress. Reigning had aged him-- and so had you, apparently. He expects to speak and yet-- you did it for him.

“Ah.” Eirikr clears his throat turning to face you just slightly. “I did not not know you had an arrangement.”

“We didn’t. No man makes me do anything. I thought you would know that by now, Hvitserk. I suppose not, given how your brother-- dear late Ubbe always handed everything down to you.” Like a woman you egg him on. Hvitserk’s eyes keep still. The older he got, the wiser he became. He knew far more than expect that you would treat him with respect.

It’s a ploy to run him off.

“You’ve disrespected me. I challenge you to a duel.” Hvitserk folds his arms over his chest by his nephews. Gladly you step up to receive him.

“Not you.” Hvitserk holds your eyes. The heat he brings to the engagement is more than the little brat you were so used to. The pretty boy of the Ragnarssons who seemed to be more woman than man to you. His features are hardened. Once full cheeks streaked by scar and the long days of battle.

“If you are really a man, you will fight me for your wife’s hand. If you lose, I will take her and your lands.” Hvitserk says in a silken trill. At this you shove forward, huffing against his skin. The air you exhale into his face would normally have made him falter when it was you. Ubbe… and you. Nothing changes this time: if you were to say no on behalf of Eirikr, it would have been a show of weakness. After all, no man said no to a duel.

“Fine.”

Your fists clench into tight balls at your sides. If there was one thing Hvitserk knew you hated-- it was being the stereotypical woman looking for her forever man on her knees. You had rather take up his very sword and gut him like a raw fish regardless of the consequence.

“Mother? What are these men doing?”

A small figure pushes through the crowd. Young, yes, but approaching the age of manhood. These were vital years for him to learn the good art of battle, stratagem and self preservation. Hvitserk catches him within his vision-- green eye meeting green eye. No fool here would be able to tell Hvitserk Ragnarsson that this little boy was NOT his. The same willowy body, blond hair beginning to turn into his honey brown hue. You lurch out to tug the boy to your body, turning him and bringing your arms in front.

“This is your father, King Hvitserk and these are his men.”

Standing in front of him is a thin little boy. It doesn’t immediately register that this is the son you left him over at first. The same must have gone for the fine young man in front of him. What stories had you made up for why he was here?

“I don’t understand, mother. Why is he here?” The young man stands his ground in confidence that Hvitserk himself didn’t have at such a young age.

“For your mother.” Hvitserk unclips his furs and hands it off to his young nephew. He bends before his son, gliding his hand over the young boy’s arm to his shoulder.

“I’m here to take your mother as my wife.”

Never once had your son been approached by someone like that. There were shieldmaidens seeking your advice, men that congratulated his stepfather on arranging a good and fair marriage. All of these instances were blessings.

“No!”

With a whap of his fist against his cheek, Hvitserk raises away from his son. He would get used to it. Children were as fickle as women were. While he might be saying no now, he would be saying another story when his broken family was put together. The young man turns to hold you as if he could change this for an instant.

Something low in Eirikr’s stomach tells him that there was no coming out of this. For he had not the luck to fight a Ragnarsson, something that Hvitserk and all his glory did have. A man that was handed everything finally come to make something out of nothing? It would have been about time.

“Hurry up, Eirikr.” Hvitserk warms a dark, deep smile. “I can’t wait to bed my wife.”

Despite knowing better than to goad Hvitserk on, you reach out toward your husband. If another man wanted to fight for you, you wouldn’t just stand by without getting under Hvitserk’s skin. Long ago, Hvitserk used to be a man of primal things. Gluttony and pride were his chief concerns, oh but you knew, envy boiled underneath the surface.

“You can do this.” You brought your husband around, guiding his large hands around your waist. Slowly you guide Eirik into a smooth kiss, your palms against his furry beard. There’s something there beneath your rough exterior… something almost affectionate that Eirikr brings out of you. In all the time that he fucked you, he can’t recall once.

Not once that you touched him like that. Your hands never stroked the softness of his cheeks or held his jaw while you kissed him, lips and tongue all working against his own. Not during sex and especially not out of sex in the company of all these men. The normal, youthful Hvitserk would have just looked down. Look away and pretend that he was the dog that everyone on Midgard made him out to be. Even you who he thought… he truly thought he had something with. This in fact was another illusion by Loki and Hvitserk? Suddenly he was back to being that clueless dog. Not anymore.

His hand flew to his belt, clutching the grip of his sword and in one fine sweep he unsheathed it. You notice it before your husband, pulling your lips free from his just seconds too late.

“Uncle wait!”

He spins out and his blade slashes into the soft skin of your husband’s side to split his tunic open. Eirikr makes a sharp bark of pain in response, falling back toward the closest one of his men. Using the weight in his steps, Hvitserk stomps towards him without heeding anyone’s word in the matter. It’s not a fair start-- Hvitserk should have waited! The crowd begins to roar in protest.

You hold up your hand knowing that backing down would shame your husband who was… not of the same state of mind as Eirikr. For him, this was a fight. For Hvitserk, this was so much more. Everything accumulating up over the years in this one moment. In a way you thought he longed to show you the sort of man he could be.

“He is berserking.” You say from the side, reaching out toward your feisty green eyed son. Your arms tighten around him like a cage to keep him in place.

“I’ve never seen one up close!” Your young boy says as if it is a spectacle that causes you to cringe. No man should have to fight a man that bit his shield and roared with the feistiness of Nidghoggr. Eirikr darts underneath table in search for his weapon. Hvitserk follows close behind looking to devour him whole. When he finally gains ahold of a weapon, he might as well had not have had it in the first place.

Hvitserk is fast. He sweeps this way and that, weaving and ducking with every slash of the earl’s sword. Your son shouts something toward the man that raised him, pricking your ears with his words of love and encouragement. It wasn’t meant to last. Hvitserk puts all his weight into a sweep, thrusting the blade out of his hand. Hvitserk sweeps his blade up, then down his throat. It’s done.

Then, with that same hungry look, he looks to you.

The sons of Ubbe back away, your hands shake upon your little boy with every pounding step he takes. The innocent boy you once knew is now tainted by blood, splattered across his face with drips over his slender lips.

One of your hands leave your son’s chest, ignoring the stifled tears that spill down from his almond shaped eyes. Hvitserk spares the boy a look, flicking his head in the direction of his nephews. So you push him in that direction, raising your head with the same indignation as earlier. 

“You were always overly prideful.” Hvitserk husks, reaching a bloodied hand out to your chin. He tips your head up. “But not anymore, are you?” 

Before you can respond, Hvitserk ducks down to pick you up with his hands on the back of your knees. He stands with your body over his shoulder, pridefully stomping toward your room. As a shieldmaiden, it makes your teeth grind to be unable to stop him.

After all, he did win.

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke@arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102