#hvitserk lothbrok fanfiction

[fragileheartbeats]

⌗ 𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘚 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( ♱ )

— 𝘙𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘳, 𝘉𝘫𝘰𝘳𝘯, 𝘜𝘣𝘣𝘦, 𝘏𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘬, 𝘐𝘷𝘢𝘳 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ it was a request, but I deleted it by mistake. Anyways hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐑 | 𝑳𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

The Charismatic Leader

Ragnar is the strategic and deeply passionate yandere. His obsession is rooted in a profound emotional connection and intellectual fascination. Ragnar treats you with a curious mix of reverence and possessiveness. He sees you as his equal, his partner in both love and adventure. "My Heart," a term that signifies your essential place in his life. Ragnar’s love is shown in grand gestures and the sharing of wisdom. He wants you involved in his plans, seeing you as integral to his vision of the future. Ragnar's jealousy is a slow burn; he's confident but can become cold and distant if he feels he’s losing your attention. When vulnerable, he shares tales of his fears and dreams, often gazing at the stars with you, pondering the gods' will. Witnessing Ragnar’s intense conflicts, both internal and external, could be harrowing. His determination to achieve greatness can sometimes overshadow his attention to you, leaving you feeling isolated amidst his ambitions. Ragnar envisions you by his side as he makes history, exploring new worlds and standing together as equals among the legends.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐁𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐍 | 𝑰𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 ─ ⸸ . ♡𝆬

The Fierce Warrior

Bjorn's obsession nature is that of the protector, almost knightly in his devotion. His love is fierce, and his protective instincts are strong. He treats you with a protective warmth, always ensuring you are safe and respected by all. He call you "My Shieldmaiden," even if you do not fight, it’s how he sees you—brave and strong. Bjorn’s demonstrations of love are in his protective actions, ensuring you never face danger alone. His gifts are often symbolic, representing his commitment and your shared strength. Bjorn’s jealousy can erupt into fierce displays of dominance, though he tries to keep it in check. His vulnerability comes out in quiet moments when he shares his doubts about living up to his father’s legacy. The worst experience would be getting caught in the crossfire of his ambitions and the dangers that accompany his life. Bjorn dreams of a future where you both stand as legends, with a legacy of strength, courage, and unity that echoes through the ages.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐄 ─ 𖤐 . ♡𝆬

The Compassionate Strategist

Ubbe’s obsession is more measured and thoughtful, rooted in a deep emotional and intellectual connection. He treats you with a gentle respect and an eagerness to share everything with you, from the mundane to the profound. He will call you "My North Star," guiding him through life’s tumultuous seas with your wisdom and compassion. Ubbe shows his love through acts of service and the sharing of knowledge. He’s always teaching you something new, ensuring you feel valued and heard. Ubbe experiences jealousy more quietly, preferring to outthink rather than confront. His vulnerability is in his fear of loss, often sharing his nightmares of a life without you. Perhaps the most challenging aspect of loving Ubbe is coping with his internal conflicts, particularly his struggle to balance his ambitions with his moral compass. Ubbe envisions a peaceful future, one where wisdom and compassion have created a world in which you both can thrive, surrounded by family and a community that respects the land and its history.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐇𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐊 ─ ✦ . ♡𝆬

The Wild Spirit

Hvitserk’s obsession is impulsive and volatile. He’s the embodiment of a storm—unpredictable and wild. He oscillates between intense affection and moments of distracted restlessness. But in his good moments, he's exhilarating and deeply attentive. He will call you "My Tempest," capturing both his perception of your captivating allure and the tumultuous nature of his affection. His demonstrations of love are spontaneous—adventures in the middle of the night, unexpected gifts stolen from far-off lands, and passionate declarations. Jealousy can drive Hvitserk to reckless actions, sometimes endangering himself to prove his worth. He’s surprisingly open about his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve. The inconsistency and his struggle with his own demons can leave you feeling insecure about where you stand with him. Hvitserk sees a future filled with adventure and unpredictability, always chasing the next thrill but doing so together, forever entwined in each other’s chaos.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺 ─ ✞ . ♡

The Ruthless Tactician

Ivar's love is intense and all-consuming, marked by his cunning and ruthless nature. He views you as his ultimate prize, his reason for victory. With you, Ivar is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to his usual ruthlessness. He shares his strategies and thoughts, making you the confidante of his deepest ambitions. He will call you "My Queen," placing you above all, the only one capable of understanding his true self. Ivar’s expressions of love are possessive and grand. He eliminates any threats to your safety, often before you’re even aware of them. His jealousy knows no bounds, and he can become dangerously cold towards perceived rivals. In vulnerability, Ivar reveals his fears of inadequacy and his deep need for your affirmation. Witnessing the lengths Ivar will go to secure power and protect you can be both awe-inspiring and terrifying, as his methods are often merciless. Ivar dreams of a future where you both rule, unchallenged, with a legacy that will be remembered and feared throughout the ages.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him. 

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter. 

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words. 

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth. 

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt. 

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

[starogeorgina]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Paring: Hvitserk × reader

Warnings: None

1.01

“Whatever happens, my brothers will watch over you in my absence.”

Unintentionally, you pouted; you hated the idea of being apart from Hvitserk, but you understood why he was leaving with Bjon. “I can take care of myself.”

A mischievous smile appears on his face. “I know."

“I’ll miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Hvitserk brushes hair behind your ear before cupping your face. Sighing, he says, “I need you to promise me something.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t get into any trouble.” Laughter passes your lips before you realize how serious he is. Hvitserk frowns. “I mean it. My brother’s always found a way of dragging you into problems that aren’t yours. I want to know my wife will be in one piece when I return to Kattegat.”

Your caring husband was being paranoid. You often found yourself between Ivar, Sigurd, and Ubbe’s spats, and almost always you took Ivar’s side. However, when it came to the sons of Ragnar fighting with others, you tended to stay out of it unless you felt it was absolutely necessary to get involved, or Hvitserk said otherwise.

“I will try my best, but I cannot make such a promise.”

Knowing this was possibly the last time you’d see each other for some time, Hvitserk kisses you passionately. You would truly miss him.

“Just behave while I’m gone.”

—

You sit on the dock beside Ivar, watching boats come in. Vikings from all over were coming to Kattegat to join the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok in seeking revenge for their father's death.

“Do you think Lagertha will join us?”

Ivar scoffs, “She told Ubbe she has many reasons to stay.”

You click your tongue and say, “Hmm, I suppose Kattegat is more important to her than a dead man.”

Ivar glares at you.

“What? I speak nothing but the truth. Lagertha had already lost Ragner, so she wouldn’t risk losing her throne so easily. You’ll need to find another way to convince her to leave Kattegat.”

The corners of Ivar’s lips pull slightly. “I say we kill her now. She will always be a threat to us, and at least then she will be out of the way.”

You pondered his words while twirling the knife in your hand. You understood his desire to kill the woman who stole his mother from him, but it wasn’t that simple. “If you kill her now, then a lot of the shield maidens in Kattegat will no longer join you in seeking revenge, nor will Bjorn. I say you get justice for Queen Aslaug’s death when we return.”

“So what? We just let Lagertha sit upon my mother's throne, free to do whatever she likes. She will stab us in the back as soon as she gets the chance.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

Ivar’s scowl turns into a smile. “I imagine whatever you’re thinking will not please my dear brother, Hvitserk.”

You raise your brow and nod. “It's a risky idea, but it might help us get an insight into what Lagertha is planning.”

As a child, you were brought to Kattegat to be a slave, but Hvitserk took a liking to you, and Queen Aslaug released you as a slave with the intent of marrying you to her son, which is exactly what you did. And ever since, you have remained loyal to Hvitserk and his family.

“I want Lagertha to think I’m on her side.” You drop your gaze to your feet, hoping that Ivar understands the reasoning behind your plan. “You, Hvistserk, Ubbe, and Sigurd will always be a threat to her, and so will any children fathered by any of you.”

“The legacy of Ragnar Lothbrok.”

“While my husband is gone, I’m vulnerable.”

Ivar scrunches his nose up and scoffs, “Don’t talk nonsense. You're one of the least vulnerable women I know; I’ve seen you fight before.”

“That’s not what I mean. Think about it. Lagather has already tried to befriend me multiple times.”

“She wants to manipulate you because she knows how much my brother values your opinion.”

“Exactly." You nod in agreement. “Hvistserk is gone, and if I were to fall out with you and Ubbe, then my loyalty may sway. If Lagertha were to trust me, I would be able to learn what her intentions are.”

Ivar claps his hands together and says, “You are far more devious than anyone who gives you credit. You have one problem, though; she wouldn’t believe you’ve turned your back on us so easily.”

“Not unless you give me a reason to.”

—

As planned, warriors who followed the sons of Ragnar did as Ivar asked and took everyone in the great hall hostage during a feast to welcome them. A sharp blade is pressed against your neck, preventing you from stepping any further.

You let out a loud gasp, “Let go of me.”

Ubbe stares at you wide-eyed; he’s surprised to see you on the opposite side of this. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it when Ivar gives him a cold glare.

They both turn their attention back to Lagertha, who has stepped down from the throne. Ubbe begins to circle her while raising his axe, and Ivar growls up at her with a blade in each hand. But before either of them can attack her, the doors to the hall swing open, and Bjorn enters. “If you kill her, my brothers, you’ll have to kill me too.”

Ivar looks up at him and says, “Maybe we should.”

“Shut up!” Ubbe hisses. “She killed our mother.”

In a calm tone, Bjorn says, “I know. You want revenge, and so would I. But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that is what we are going to do.”

Lagertha tosses her sword to the ground. Furious, Ubbe and Ivar leave the hall. You twiddle with the threads of your dress, staring ahead, teary-eyed. Under your breath, you mutter, “Brothers.”

When Lagertha catches your eye and gives you a sympathetic look, you quickly turn and run outside, doing your best to hide the smirk pulling on the corner of your lips.

[bxwitched]

Captive - Part 4

Warnings: Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk. Noncon / dubcon, slavery, manipulation, sexual content, violence, descriptions of wounds and blood.

Character Pairing: King!Ivar the Boneless x Slave!Reader

Summary: You find yourself a captive of Ivar the Boneless.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I finally found the inspiration to continue this fic after a whole year. Comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.

You stirred as cold fingertips traced along your leg, a large callused hand smoothing shapes over soft the flesh, waking you from your dream. You kicked out at the explorative touch, making a sound of displeasure as Ivar caught your ankle in his firm grip and snickered in amusement.

"It is time to get up, Valkyrie." You groaned, burrowing your face further into the furs.

"Leave me be, King. Let me sleep." He huffed at you from his perch at the end of the bed and you gasped in surprise as he leaned forward and snatched your leg from beneath the blankets, jostling you as he hitched it over his broad shoulder. His icy eyes locked with yours as he pressed a slow kiss to the side of your knee.

You tried to ignore the heat simmering in your belly as his lips brushed against the sensitive flesh, leaving fire in their wake. His intense gaze bore down into you and flashes of the night before came rushing back; the way that Ivar had looked at you as you had taken control of him and used him for your pleasure.

You had behaved no better than a common whore, desperate for the gratification that his body could offer and you felt your cheeks heat at the memory, your stomach twisting into knots.

You leaned back on your elbows and studied Ivar, he was already dressed in his light armour; with his axe fixed to his hip, his knives stowed at his waist, and metal braces in place on his legs. You didn't have time to wonder what his plans for the day were before he brought you out of your thoughts, his breath tickling your soft skin as he spoke.

"I thought that you would be eager to see your little mouse, Valkyrie. But if you would rather remain in bed-" His voice was teasing and you bolted upright, wrenching your leg back from his grip as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious.

"You will allow it?" He nodded once, his bright eyes fixated on you.

"You have been good for me, haven't you? Torsten is waiting outside to escort you." You tried and failed to hide your excitement as you stood from the bed and rushed to get dressed. Ivar's lips tilted up at the corners and his eyes remained glued to your form as he watched you ready yourself for the day, beguiled by you.

As you walked the streets of Kattegat you had quickly learned that Torsten was not a talkative man; he was tall and well-built with short hair, shorn at the sides and a dark beard. He was more of a mountain than a man, clearly battle hardened and you had no doubts that he was one of Ivar's finest warriors. 

You travelled in silence, trying to ignore the stares of the townspeople as you passed through the busy market, some offered you looks of pity, whilst others flashed you looks of distaste. You couldn't decipher the hushed words and low whispers that were spoken, but you imagined that it was gossip of the king's newest toy, his foreign concubine. 

You wondered how many there were before you and what words were spoken of them, whether they were also from Eire or from lands further afield. 

Torsten came to a stop when you neared a large barn and gestured you in ahead of him. You entered the dimly lit space hesitantly, mindful of the other thralls as they bustled around, readying for their tasks of the day.

You eyes flitted through the crowd of women, searching for the head of golden hair when a weight suddenly barrelled into you, taking your breath and nearly knocking you backwards as a smaller figure clung tightly to your waist.

Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.

"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, hiccuping as she tried to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.

"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and managed to steady her breathing once more.

She looked up at you with glassy eyes, deep emerald irises that she had inherited from her mother's side. 

"Come." You took her hand in yours and lead her away from the barn, down to the waterfront where it was quieter, calmer. You both walked in silence along the waters edge, taking in the warmth of the sun on your face and the sound of the waves as they lapped gently at the shore. Torsten followed behind,  giving you just enough distance to speak privately, a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior.

Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.

"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, trying to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.

"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and steadied her breathing.

She looked up at you with glassy eyes, a deep, rich emerald that she had inherited from her mother's side.

"Come." You took her hand and lead her away from the barn and down to the waterfront. You both walked along the waters edge, your shoes sinking slightly into the damp sand as Torsten followed behind you at a distance, giving you enough space speak privately. It was a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior but appreciated immensely. 

"Where did they take you?" Your heart wrenched at the concern and fear in her shaking voice.

"They took me to the king." Alva's face paled, her eyes widening further. She looked akin to a doe in the forest, startled by a waiting hunter in the trees.

"Ivar the boneless." Her fear was evident now, her eyes moving over your body franticly. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

"No Alva, I'm fine." Your stomach twists at that and you let out a deep sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly. She was six summers younger than you but she was naive for her age, fragile. She wasn't hardened like you, she was innocent and she couldn't begin to understand the complexities of your situation.

She was a lamb amongst wolves and you knew that you had to do everything you could to protect her, even if it meant being the king's whore.

"King Ivar has taken me as his and so long as I am good to him, useful to him, our safety is guaranteed here. We may be thralls here but we are alive Alva, and we are protected. That is all that matters." She chewed her lip nervously and her worried gaze dropped to the floor.

"I have heard things, whispers from the other girls.." You stopped and crouched down to her level, ignoring the cold water that seeped into the hem of your gown as you searched her face with questioning eyes.

"What things?"

"They talk about the king, they say that he is a great warrior, that he is favoured by the gods and has never lost a battle. But-"

"Go on, Alva." You insisted as she shifted her weight nervously.

"They say that because of his legs, he cannot please a woman. He has hurt slave girls and threatened to kill them if they speak of it. They talk of a woman called Margarette, they say he strangled her."

Your eyes lowered to the sand and you nodded your head solemnly, you would not be surprised by such things given your experience of Ivar's volatile nature. You returned to your full height and forced a small smile, one you hoped would reassure the young girl.

"Come along, let us enjoy the water a little longer."

Torsten allowed you to spend a few hours with Alva, soaking up the warmth of the sun and the feel of the salty ocean breeze before telling you that it was time to return to the Hall.

Alva was unhappy to leave you and return to the thrall house but she finally relented when you reassured her that you'd be okay with a soft smile and promised that you would see her again soon.

You were almost back at the Hall when you heard your new moniker being called in the distance and turned to see Hvitserk making his way towards you.

"Valkyrie!" The man was completely different to Ivar, not only in his physical appearance but in his demeanour; whilst Ivar was impassive and unpredictable, Hvitserk was open and seemed to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

He grinned widely at you as he rested on the fence of the training ground, his hair mussed and cheeks red from sparring.

"I see my brother has finally let you spread your wings." You huffed at his jest and moved to rest against the fence beside him, watching as Ivar's men fought each other with vigour, the sharp clashes of steel and crashes of shields heavy in the air.

"They are fine warriors. Though not as fine as you I'm sure.." Hvitserk raised an eyebrow at your taunt, his grin widening as mischief danced behind his eyes.

"You told me that you were a fighter, Valkyrie. Perhaps I wish to see it for myself." You raised your chin slightly, your eyes narrowing in playful challenge.

"My father always believed that I possessed enough fury to rival that of a berserker, maybe we should test that." The blonde man's eyes flashed in delight and he held a hand out to you, helping you over the wooden fence and into the training arena, ignoring Torsten's protests and silencing the larger man with a raised hand.

"Hand me a sword, Ragnarsson." He passed you a short-sword, lighter than you had used before but well-balanced and finely made. Hvitserk opted for a larger sword, heavier and better matched for his larger frame.

"Don't worry, Valkyrie. I will go easy on you." You scoffed, watching as his grin widened and his eyes changed, the mossy green growing darker with his building battle-lust.

You watched his feet, anticipating his initial attack and dodged each skilful slash of his sword. You moved in time with him, keeping up with the prince despite your heavy dress weighing down your movements.

You grinned as you blocked several of the beserker's attempted hits. Hvitserk's expression was positively wild and the fight between you became more intense the more you challenged him.

He barely managed to block your attack to his torso and you grinned as he growled in irritation. You were so focused, until your name was shouted from the fence line.

Your head turned for no more than a second but it was enough time for Hvitserk to land a hit, successfully slicing a line of crimson across your forearm. You gasped as the flesh stung and you clutched at the wound as the blood began to seep from it, running down your skin and dripping into the dirt beneath your feet.

Hvitserk froze, his face dropping into one of remorse as he realised what he had done, then one of uneasiness when he noticed Ivar stalking towards you both with his men in tow. His face was stony but his sapphire eyes gave away his rage, they were practically glowing as he glared at both of you.

"What do you think you are doing, hm?" His voice was level, an unnerving contradiction to the storm brewing behind his eyes. He turned on Hvitserk then and the older Ragnarsson visibly tensed. "I suppose that this was your idea, brother?"

You were quick to speak up, stepping in front of Hvitserk to shield him from Ivar's wrath. Although he had been the one to challenge you to spar, you had been just as willing. He hadn't meant to injure you and you had enjoyed the rush of it, the freedom.

Despite being your master's kin Hvitserk had been civil to you during your time in Kattegat, amiable even. From what you had witnessed he seemed to be a decent man and you didn't feel that he deserved to be reprimanded for your poor choices.

"It's not his fault, my King. I challenged him to fight, if you are to punish anyone then it must be me."

"Is that so?" Ivar tilted his head at you with a raised brow and you nodded, his face said everything his words did not. This is not over.

He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth and nodded once, his jaw tensed.

"Very well, Torsten will take you back to our chambers." He dismissed the larger warrior with a wave of his hand and turned to face Hvitserk, fixing him with a false smile that left no room for argument. "Brother, you will go and fetch the healer. And the next time that you wish to fight? I suggest that you find a different opponent."

@wittysunflower​ @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @that-virgo-witch​ @helleiaiwritting @the-king-of-kattegat-ivar @nukyster-blog @ietss @belladaises @victoria-styles

[bjornswoman]

My prisoner

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hello! I've been away for a while and I'm sorry about it. I wanted to come back with a fic about Bjorn, but this one was something that I was thinking for a while and I decided that this one will come out first. I want to believe that vikings fandom are still active. Anyway, till next time have fun and take care.

Pairing: Modern!Hvitserk x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, drama, romance, fluff.

Summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks free from prison.

Warnings: Drama, mentions of prison break, mentions of death.

Life had never been easy for you.

When you thought that things started getting better, something really bad happened and you were back to zero.

Life had shown you its worst face so far.

You had lost your parents at young age. You were struggling all alone, dealing with two awful jobs and an ex that was more pain in the ass than all the bills you had to pay at the end of each month.

Your life became much more difficult when you decided to get involved with the most infamous family of the city — the Lothbroks. These men — the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, a mobster — they run a dangerous gang the one their father had founded. You couldn't even want to think about all the illegal stuff they were doing and the police was after them.

The bad thing in that was that the police had you under their microscope, as well, because you were Hvitserk Lothbrok's girlfriend — ex girlfriend.

And things became even worse than before when they put him in jail, after your break-up, and he decided with the help of his family to break free.

The police was following each movement of yours. They were tracking your phone number, listening to all your phone calls, expecting to learn about your ex. They had even someone outside your apartment to watch you over.

You told them over and over again that you had nothing to do with that filthy man anymore, but they wouldn't believe in you.

You let a long breath leave your lungs as you were cleaning the bar counter.

"What is it again?" One of your coworkers asked. Well, Hope was more than a coworker, she was your friend.

The only one you could talk to and not raise any suspicions. You were friends with Torvi — the wife of Ubbe Lothbrok — and Gunnhild — the wife of Bjorn Lothbrok — but you couldn't see them, it was too risky to get in touch with any member of the family. Of course, the police kept a close eye on them, but still you couldn't have any kind of communication with any of the family.

"It's the usual problem with... him." You said as you were placing the clean glasses on their place behind the counter.

"The police is following me around like I'm some kind of a bloody criminal because I made the mistake to start a relationship with a mobster." You spoke angrily and threw the towel on the counter. You were so angry, so frustrated with all this mess. Your hands run through your hair.

"I know that this is difficult for you, but it is going to end, sweetheart. It will end when they get this son of a bitch back where he belongs — in prison." She said wih an encouraging smile on her face and her hand rubbed your back friendly.

Only those words weren't encouraging for you. Deep in your heart you didn't want him to get caught and sent back inside there again. It hurt you to think that the man you loved were inside a called cell.

It was true that he wasn't the best guy in the world, not even close to that. Hvitserk had done some bad things that he wasn't proud of and he had regretted of doing. He had a good heart and wanted to be better.

You forced something that was the resemblance of a smile on your face and followed her to the kitchen to get the orders and walk them to the costumers.

"Did he try to contact you after you know?" Hope asked you suddenly and you nodded your head as an answer — no he didn't and it quite hurt you. But you had broken up before he got in.

"At least, he didn't dare to after all he did."

You frowned when you heard the tone of her voice. Hvitserk had never hurt you. In fact, the reason he broke up with you was because he didn't want to involve you in his mess, in the shit he was deep into, but it was late for that.

"He didn't harm me." You muttered when you got back with an epty tray in your hands.

Hope rolled her eyes and continued to place the drinks on her tray. When she finished, she turned her eyes on you.

"But he harmed other people. He is a criminal. Prison is where he belongs." Those where her words before she waltzed through the tables with her tray in hands.

Her words were harsh for a man she didn't know at all. Yeah, Hvitserk did awful things, but he wasn't just that. You had seen the good side of his. You had seen the little broken child in him. The one who felt full when you showed him your love and affection. The one who tried to shield your heart even from him.

The rest of your shift went by as usual. There weren't many clients as a typical Wednesday night. But things changed when you got that damned phone call.

It was a couple of times before the closing time when Torvi called. You didn't expect her to, you didn't expect anyone from the family to reach for you. When you saw her name on the screen, you used the back door to get out and answered her call.

"Torvi?" The tone of your trembling voice gave away easily to level of your concern about Hvitserk. Torvi wouldn't call if something bad did not happen. Something had happened. Something that you wouldn't like to hear.

"What happened? You know that it's not safe to speak through the phone." Your body was pressed on the wall next to the door and your hand was clenching the phone.

"Something came up which we don't know whether it stands or not, but I had to inform you because Ubbe said that they are 80% sure that it's true." You felt the despair and sadness in the tone of her voice as well as you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

Hvitserk — your mind screamed but your tongue didn't. You waited to hear more before you even try to fight back your emotions.

"Tell me for the love of Gods! What happened?" You were almost crying now.

Torvi took a deep breath before her next words.

"They found a body — a body in a really awful state. It's unrecognizable. At the time were are talking they are in a lab waiting for the results of the DNA analysis. But, Ubbe said that they are almost sure that the body belongs to Hvitserk. He didn't contact the brothers after the escape, they thought he was hiding and would eventually come out, but he didn't."

You couldn't hear the most of it. You collapsed on the floor halfway and closed your eyes forcefully in an attempt to fight the waterfalls of tears to fall. Your free hand moved on your face and it touched your forehead.

You stopped hearing. You were crying. He couldn't be dead. Hvitserk couldn't die. Not like this.

"They killed him and threw his body in a ditch in a middle of nowhere. The people who killed him are the same who framed him with this murder he didn't commit." She continued, but you couldn't hear anymore. Your brain couldn't process all these. You couldn't process the fact that Hvitserk was dead.

"Hvitserk..." You muttered his name like it was a prayer between your sobs.

"I know it hurts but you—"

You didn't let her finish. You ended the damned call and let your phone fall from your hands. You hid your face in your palms and let yourself cry and mourn the love of your life — the only person you were able to love this much and loved you back in his own different way.

After some time, you gathered your broken heart and the pieces of your body and got in. You wiped your tears and cleaned your face with some fresh water. You had to stay strong for a couple of times and then you could cry all your wanted.

At the closing, you took out the trash in an attempt to cry to yourself for a bit in the darkness where no one could see your tears for the man you loved the most. You were so sad and shattered that you didn't notice a black figure approaching you.

You only noticed when one of his hands was on your mouth and the pushed you in a dark corner. You eyes opened widely and your heart beat went faster until you saw the face of your captor.

He let you see his face. He took his hood off and got rid of the black scarf which was covering his mouth and nose. When you could finally see him, he freed your mouth and you gasped.

"You!" You whispered out of breath. Your hand run on his features that you missed so much. The last time you could saw him in person was many months ago, almost a month before he got arrested.

"Shh!" His index finger was on your lips.

"Don't shush me! I thought you were fucking dead! Torvi called an—" All your whisper-yelling stopped when his lips fell violently on yours. The very thing he did every time he wanted to get away feom scolding. But this time you weren't going to get mad or stop him, until not as long as you could breathe.

His skilled lips were moving just perfect on yours and the facial hair he had were just perfect. His hands grabbed you by the waist and you placed your own hands around his neck. Your body was pressed on the wall by his own.

This kiss felt like salvation. It was like you were whole again. It felt like you could breathe even if you didn't. You didn't want it to stop, but it had. After all, you two had many things to discuss.

Much to your displeasure, it stopped because of the lack of air to your lungs. His hands left your waist and moved on your face where he caressed your cheeks softly.

But that loving moment didn't last long, before he noticed, your hand collided with his cheek violently and his head turned at the side.

"Was that necessary? Why did you do it?" Hvitserk whisper-yelled. His palm was on his hurting cheek that had your mark on it, along with the mark of your nails.

"You scared me to fucking death with your bloody lies. Plus, you were a total dick to me when I called you in jail." You spoke and gazed at him. You had missed him terribly.

"Hey!" With that Hvitserk grabbed your face between his hands. Your faces were dangerously close for once more. "I told you, you shouldn't have called me there. As for my little lie, it was my only chance to see you." You spoke and left a soft kiss on your forehead.

"And how would that be? The police is out there waiting for a stupid movement of yours — exactly like this one — to get you. They are after me — following every step of mine. You shouldn't be here." You told him and tried to leave him in the darkness. You didn't want him to get caught because of you.

Hvitserk didn't let slip from his hands. His strong grip held there in from of him.

"It's dangerous, Hvitserk." You whispered at him.

Hvitserk smirked and one of his hands placed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"See that was exactly my plan with all this dead body lie. Indeed, there was a body, but not mine — obviously — and we used it to mislead them. They will try to find the body and they won't pay attention to you. At least, not as much as they did." He explained and you smiled.

"Ivar's plan?" You asked all smiling and he smiled back.

"Like you don't know the answer to that."

After that, you stayed there gazing at each other, having only the stars witnessing this moment between you.

"Why did you break my heart?" You asked as your eyes were only on his. You wanted to hear the truth coming out of his mouth.

His green eyes were glowing under the lights of the stars.

"I – I don't deserve you. You are kind and sweet and so angelic and I am the exact opposite. I am so filthy that I'll defile your purity. I've done things that I'm not proud about — bad things."

"Then why are you here now?"

Your question made him think about it himself once more. His eyes were looking only deep inside yours. You could feel his pain when he talked about the stuff he did, you could feel everying through those eyes. It hurt you to think that he felt this way for himself.

"Behind the bars, in that cell, the only thing you can do is thinking. You're thinking about all the right and wrong decisions of your life till the moment you got in — especially the wrong ones keep you up all night. And what kept me up was you. The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice, you laugh, your scolding. I just couldn't live knowing that I hurt you. I love you. My life without you is meaningless."

"Just never push me away again, okay?" You spoke as your hand wiped a couple tears away from your eyes. Hvitserk help you and when there weren't any more tears in your eyes, he caressed your skin softly.

"I love you, you idiot." You muttered and kissed him again. This kiss was so much different from the previous one. It soft and loving.

"The plan is to never let you slip away from me ever again." He spoke as he was caressing your hair.

"And how is that supposed to happen?"

"We will leave together here and now."

You frowned. You weren't expecting him to say something like this. You pushed him back, so you could face him.

"Wait... You want us to leave everything behind — our lives — and run away. This – this is....." You couldn't form a proper sentence. You were to process his proposition.

Kattegat was everything you knew — the place you called home. Everyone you knew was here and by that you meant your friends and some very distant relatives. Apart from your life, his life was in this place. His family, his job.

"(Y/N), there's nothing for us here. If I stay, I'll go to prison and I won't be able to hold you ever again. I will leave at the end of the day, there is no future for me in this city." Both of your hearts were beating fast at the thought that you would never see each other again after this night.

It was true that there was nothing here for you, only these two jobs that you hated. You couldn't know what future had in store for you, but if you let Hvitserk leave alone, you would hate yourself for the rest of your life.

Hvitserk's hand grabbed yours and closed it in both of his palms, but before that his finger gripped your chin and moved your head in such position that you could look at each other.

"The clock is ticking — the time is running fast. You have to give me your answer now. Are you coming with me right now?"

His eyes were begging you to say yes.

His heart was begging you to say yes.

But your mind was the problem. Your mind was hesitating to follow him wherever he was going to take you.

You closed your eyes for a moment. You couldn't choose between your heart and your mind. A whole war had broke inside you.

"(Y/N)?"

At the sound of your name on his lips you opened your eyes.

"I will come wherever you are willing to go. I can't live without you, my love." You told him and hugged him tightly.

Hvitserk wrapped his hand with yours and pulled you close to him.

"Are you sure? If we leave now — together — there's no coming back. We will be both fugitives." He told you smirking.

You chuckled when you heard him.

"That's a risk I'd love to take for you."

With those last words Hvitserk and you run away from the police and the city forever.

[underscorewriting]

Hello !

How are you doing?

Could you make a one shot where your the ragnarsons little sister ( your 5 yrs old and ragnar and a witches daughter ) and they don't know you exist but you come with bjorn from a raid and you meet them andyou just capture everyones heart .

And you give hope to the people of kattegat because you are a powefull witch and they think you are a god

Maybe they find out your powers when you save someone from death with your powers?

Thank you!

Oh my god, I love that idea!! Sorry that it took me sooo long to write this, but here it is now!! ^^ I kinda changed it a bit, hopefully you don't mind too much!! :)

The lost daughter

Brother!Ragnarssons x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sigurd being a dick, Angst?

Words: 2.414 (think this one's my longest story!!)

Emotions were all she ever knew. Bad ones, painful ones. She didn't understand why she felt them so intense, whenever something happened. People usually got hurt very badly if she got upset. A little girl that could kill people in the most torturous way possible, without even having to move a single finger or having the thought in mind.

The town she lived in always said that her "witch" of a mother was the reason behind this cursed child. They tried hurting her but she ran, she ran straight into a group of men. No not just men, women were there too. Women she couldn't help but stare at. None of the people in her town looked like them.

Her town was called Wessex, rumors were that in the earlier years, vikings have already been there, even had a deal with the great king Ecgberht. But that was years ago, way before the little girl was even born.

The man in front of the group smirked slightly before he leaned down to her height. "Now who might you be? You wouldn't know where a witch named Meredith lives, would you?" The man studied her features, each one identical to her mothers, except the ocean blue eyes. A feature left from her father.

Taking a step back she tripped over her own leg only to be caught by the man in front of her. He wore his hair in a braid and his beard was longer than she ever saw anyone wear. His eyes didn't hold any danger in them, maybe curiosity, but nothing she had to be scared of. Calming her nerves slightly she stood up straight again.

"witch?" She tilted her head confused, not understanding what that word really meant, only hearing it when someone insulted her mother. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. "My momma was no witch! She was a healer and helped lots of people!" Pushing away from him, she heard something snap behind the man.

A man holding his arm, which was twisted in a weird angle. The man was screaming in pain as his legs twisted as well, painfully bringing him to his death. It took the little girl some time to snap out of her emotions and look over to the man, only to gasp at the state of the man.

Covering her eyes quickly with her hands she turned away, a quiet sob escaping her. The other men gasped in fear, she had to be blessed by the gods they thought. "By the gods it is true!" The man with the braid laughed and pulled her into his chest. "You are coming home with us, little one. Bet you want to meet your family!" Peeking through her fingers she nervously chewed her lip. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, but her momma once told her a story about a man she could always trust if he ever came to her. A man named Ragnar Lothbrok.

The man, who was carrying her, didn't look exactly how her mother explained, but his icy blue eyes reminded her of him. "Are you Ragnar Lothbrok?" Her voice came out in a whisper as she held onto him. A laugh rumbled in his chest as he put her down on the boat. "I am his son, Björn Ironside. My father and I were often here in Wessex, he met a woman, a healer he used to tease by calling her a witch, they shared a bed and later on rumors spread, that she was with his child. You. I am your brother, we're going to Kattegat, our fathers home. Our home."

Confusion settled in the little girls chest, she didn't fully believe him, but somehow she thought she could trust him. The hope of having a family battling the fear of getting killed or worse.

They traveled for months on no end, the little witch started to enjoy the sea. She learned many things thanks to her brother. The gods became her favorite topic, next to her having four more brothers back at home. Giggling she ran over to Björn. "Brother! When will we arrive?" Excitement settled in her bones as she held onto his hand, looking up to him with wide eyes. Björn couldn't help but smile slightly at how excited she was. "We will arrive soon, look."

When she looked into the distant she saw land becoming bigger, they were close, just about to reach it. She was nervous, he had warned her about how different each brother is, but she was excited. Excited to see a family she longed for. Excited for a land that would also belong to her in some way.

As they arrived she was nervous, people looked at her weirdly, making her scared that she might hurt someone. Björn was walking in the front with her, three men waiting for them in a big hall. The girl had already heard a lot about them and could easily tell who each one of them was. But one wasn't here, she was disappointed.

The men looked at Björn confused. "Welcome home, brother. I see you did not return alone, who is that child?" Ubbe smiled slightly walking up to them. "She's our sister. Father laid with a woman from Wessex, she was a healer I got to know her a bit." The little girl started fidgeting with her hands, trying to release some of her stress. Ubbes eyes found hers, she could only see kindness in them.

A chuckle came from where the other two stood, the blonde man laughing at how ridicules this sounded. "Be serious, brother. You couldn't possibly believe something that stupid." Sigurd was being gruesome, looking at the child in disgust at how her clothes looked. She was no child of Ragnar for him. she didn't look like one either. Sneering he gave her one last glare as he walked away.

Biting her lip she looked to the ground, counting the seconds and minutes so she could calm down. A sigh came from the other three men. Hvitserk slowly made his way towards her kneeling down so he was her height. A smile forming on his face as he studied her eyes, the blue reminding him of his little brother. Even the white in her eyes was a little blue.

„Looks like Ironsides is telling the truth.“. A grin spread on Hvitserk face as he stood up straight. Soon there was a clicking sound to be heard. Ivar came into the great hall, wondering what all the noise is about, having only heard parts of it. „Gods would you just keep it down, Hvitserk.“

Fear settled in her stomach, she was terrified of meeting Ivar ever since Björn told her all the stories about him. When her eyes finally met his she couldn't help but flinch. His eyes matched hers the most. They were almost identical and a giddy smile formed on her face, before she could stop herself. With him it was the clearest that he was her brother. "I heard Sigurd whine about our brother having found some bastard child from father, that couldn't seriously be his..."

Ivar leaned down towards the little girl, tilting his head slightly, inspecting her, before grinning like a lunatic. "But as I see she looks more like a child of Ragnar than he does." Hvitserk laughed and Ubbe couldn't help but grin a little at Ivars statement. All of them were nervous for his reaction, since he was the hardest to please, but somehow her eyes made him realize it the quickest.

The little girl couldn't believe how easy they all accepted her and included her in everything. Everyone except Sigurd. He spread the rumors of her having some powers, but instead of making the people be disgusted of her they started admiring her, bringing her brothers gifts for her. Every person in Kattegat thought she was a god. How couldn't she be? A child of the great Ragnar Lothbrok, it was about time one of them had to become a god.

Even her brothers sometimes believed it, but they also soon learned that her power held a lot of danger. Ivar was the first to notice that her eyes, like his, told in what situation her powers would be. If they were blue in the whites, then it was dangerous for her to interact with a lot of people meaning, keeping her with Ubbe and Hvits would be the wisest decision. Of course they trusted Ivar with her, but most of the times Ivar himself was somewhat worried about upsetting her too much.

On her good days she would walk with her crippled brother through the market, helping him get things and later on hearing about all the adventures he went on. She wouldn't tell but she did like him the best, since he understood her the most. Ubbe was a close second. Björn left for another raid soon after he brought her to the others, which sandend her the most was that he didn't even say goodbye.

She loved her brothers very much, even Sigurd. Ivar was very protective of her when it came to him. He was never allowed too close to her or to be alone with her. It was rare that Ivar cared that much, but he knew how cruel Sigurd could be if he wanted to, and he didn't want her to go through the same things he himself went through.

During a feast late at night she sat with her brothers, giggling and laughing as Hvitserk told her the funniest stories and Torvi braiding her hair, she felt whole. Ivar was sitting in the throne looking over the people, seeing how they looked at his sister in fear, he liked that they feared her even if they thought she was a god, but he also knew how it upset her that they avoided her at all costs when she was close.

Sigurd hated everything about her actually being treated like all of his brothers, like an actual child of Ragnar even though Ragnar himself never even knew her. On this particular night he drank one too many cups of ale and his company wouldn't stop talking about how great her powers are and how she was the hope for the people in Kattegat. The hate he felt for Ivar was nothing compared to the hate he felt for her. It made him see red, he got up and walked straight up to her as she was wandering around the hall, looking at different things.

Ivar was watching her carefully, making sure nothing could happen. Sigurd grabbed her arm forcefully making her stop and turn towards him, a gasps escaped her. Looking up to him she gave him an excited smile. "Brother! Are you enjoying the feast? Ubbe said I may not try the ale yet because-" But he interrupted her by grabbing her face hard and squishing her cheeks together. "I am not your brother! Neither are they!" He pointed to were Ubbe and Hvitserk were laughing together. "Just because Ragnar laid with some bitch in Wessex doesn't make you anything to us! Oh and Ivar? He's playing his own games, he only keeps you around so that you can help him archive the power he wants!" A smirk was on Sigurds face as he watched how tears streamed down her cheeks and how her lip quivered.

Sadly for him he did not notice the blue of her eyes and how she was further away from the others, to calm her powers. One might think that the ax hitting him in the back was her, but people tend to forget how hotheaded Ivar the boneless was, now that he seemed calm compared to his sister. Ivar couldn't help it and threw the ax, hearing his brothers harsh and hurtful words, making him not realize what he was doing as his hand found the weapon.

Ivar didn't mean to kill his brother, panic spread in his chest as he quickly limped over to the two of them. The little girls eyes were wide and still filled with unshed tears as she did her best to keep Sigurd upright. Of course she was upset with him, but he was still her beloved brother, even if he didn't see himself that way.

The hall quieted down quickly. Hvitserk and Ubbe were quick to join their siblings helping the girl to carefully lay down their brother. Both shot daggers with their eyes at Ivar, who was slightly trembling, scared to have actually killed him. Ubbe tried to pull her away from Sigurd, not wanting her to see so much blood at such a young age, not caring about viking tradition at this point. This was her brother dying, she shouldn't see him like that.

But she had other plans. As if it was instinct, she pulled away from Ubbes hold and pulled the ax out of Sigurds abdomen. Her hands covering in blood as she pressed them onto the open wound applying as much pressure as she can before closing her eyes, saying a quiet prayer to the gods. Repeating the prayer over and over again in barely a whisper her eyes shot open, the blue now seeming like it glowed, making the men around her flinch slightly.

They all saw the wound healing. It healed quickly, way quicker than anything else and her eyes soon stopped glowing as the wound was completely gone and Sigurs eyes snapped open. The little girls eyes closed slowly as she released him from her grip and dropped exhausted to the ground, making Hvitserk quickly catched her head, before it hit the floor, picking her fully up. All of them were silent for a moment as they listened to Sigurds heavy breathing.

None of them could believe how blessed they were, having a sister as strong as her. It didn't matter to them if she was a god or a simple witch blessed by them. All that mattered to them was that she was safe and taken care of. She was so young with such great power. A power she needed help with, a power that they all had to tame with her. But it was alright, if that's what it takes for her to feel loved and needed.

The Ragnarssons could not hide the fact that their sister was the reason they all connected fully again. She truly was a blessing from the all father.

-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! :)

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 19

An update in less than a month? What is this?

This is the long anticipated update and I'm so excited to share it with you. Please let me know what you guys think!

Words: 5500

Warnings: All the feels! brief violence, language, just grab some tissues.

Series Masterlist

Ivar loathed all hospitals with an unholy passion. Far too much of his childhood was spent surrounded by sterile white walls and people in scrubs giving him pitying looks that boiled his blood. He hated the continuous beeping sounds, that unnatural sterile scent, even the loud-ass flooring that made each step sound like a heavy weight being dropped.  He despised everything about hospitals. 

But none of that crossed his mind as he stormed into the main lobby of one with the force of an unrelenting tornado. 

He slammed his hand down on the counter, feeling his bones rattle and threaten to break but he ignored the pain. He already had one hand in a cast, why not the other? 

“Where is Kari Larsen?” He demanded of the two nurses behind the counter. 

Neither nurse berated him of how he cut in line, bypassing the four other people, to demand their attention. A fucking miracle. As he stood there, waves of anger and desperation crashing over him, he wondered if they could see it and it kept their mouths shut. Was it so obvious how his edges were fraying? How what sanity he possessed was beginning to crumble until he knew - he could see - that Kari was alive. 

One of them glanced over his shoulder, at his father and brother flanking him, and waved him closer. “Give me a moment and I'll check.”

The desire to scream at her to ‘hurry the fuck up’, ‘didn't she know who he was’, and how he wanted to ‘burn this entire building to the ground’ stung the back of his throat. But none of that passed his lips. For immobilizing terror gripped at his heart with claws sunk in deep, making that blackened organ threaten to stutter to a stop. How his lungs ached as if petrifying within his chest causing each breath to be a struggle to take in. 

He had promised her. 

He fucking PROMISED! 

Uncaring of his hardened reputation, of never showing pain, he dropped his head in his hands, the cast rubbing against his cheek. He tried to take a deep breath, but the panic and self-loathing continued to crush his chest like a Medieval torture device. He just needed to know…he needed to see her. 

Please…

The nurse's ‘customer' voice broke through his internal panic. “Miss Larsen is still in the emergency room but has been moved to a separate room for examination.”

Ivar moved before the nurse fully finished her sentence. Ignoring all those around him, he stormed through that hospital with only one destination in mind. At this point, he almost wished someone would try to stop him so he could hit someone, just do something instead of feeling like he was falling apart. Anger, he knew. Anger, he could work with. But not this terror, not this panic that was draining his sanity and attempting to suffocate him. 

Perhaps, it was the scowl on his face that made people jump out of his way, the aura of danger that radiated off of him, or how he was flanked by his father and brother. With only a few concerned stares from nurses or those that worked there, he guessed they recognized him and his family. He had visited this godforsaken place enough times. Besides, he was a Lothbrok. 

And Lothbroks owned this city. 

Hvitserk raced ahead to open the doors leading into the emergency area, separate from the main hospital. They passed through without incident, into the chaos and mayhem. Sounds of a baby screaming, raised voices, the tang of blood and antiseptic cleaner, it all assaulted his senses but it barely phased him. There was only one thing he cared about right now. 

Marching up to the large desk, he stopped, glaring at the first nurse he came across. Her gray hair was tied back in a bun, with a ‘don't give a fuck anymore’ look as she typed away on the computer. 

Too bad she had met her match today. 

“Kari Larsen. Where is she?” He gritted through his teeth. 

The older nurse sighed, looking up at him. “Young man, you need to wait–”

“WHERE IS SHE??!”

Silence echoed in the room. The sudden lack of sound felt like a black hole that suddenly exploded to destroy them all. All eyes turned to the trio at the front desk.

His father put a hand on Ivar's shoulder as he stepped up beside him. Most likely intervening before Ivar jumped over the counter and repeatedly stabbed the ugly bitch with that damn pen she kept clicking. 

“We received a call from this hospital that Kari Larsen was here. We've come to check on her and I am personally paying for any treatment she receives while here.”

“Fine. Your name, sir?”

“Ragnar Lothbrok.” He smirked lazily. “My information is on file. Send the bill to Mr Weber, the CFO. He knows how to contact me with any further questions.”

The five other nurses behind the desk all stared, one or two having paled at the name of Lothbrok spoken. The older nurse before them began to stutter out a response, her eyes having widened and mouth dropped open, like an wrinkly goldfish. 

“Now, you will answer my son's question.” His father's voice hardened in displeasure. “In which room is Kari Larsen?”

“I…um…” One of the nurses stumbled out, clasping a blue patient folder to her chest like it was some shield to protect her from the Lothbrok's wrath. “I brought her for a CT scan…just…fifteen minutes ago, maybe.”

“Excellent, now–” Ragnar started to say but a rasped cry yanked the youngest Lothbrok's attention away. 

“Ivar!”

He spun on his heel, facing the hallway just behind him and slightly to his right. All his fear, panic, anger, self-loathing- it all bubbled up to spectacularly erupt as he heard that voice call his name. Her voice! A voice even after three weeks without hearing its sound, he immediately knew. The voice his soul cried out for. 

And there she was. 

Beautiful…

Perfect…

….with dried blood on the side of her head and splattered on her sweater. 

“Kari!” As quickly as his crippled legs could go, he bolted towards her. 

At his responding cry, she broke away from the nurse walking next to her. The damn nurse tried to grab her, but Kari shook her hand off and began running. 

Running to him! 

With tears running down her cheeks. 

She slammed into him, almost knocking them over with her momentum. Ivar stumbled back a couple steps, barely catching his footing, but he did not care. She was in his arms. Where she should be. Where she was meant to be. Finally. 

As soon as she was enclosed in his arms, face pressed against his chest and hands fisting the front of his shirt, she began sobbing earnestly. He tightened his arms around her, drawing her as physically possible against himself as her whole body shook with each ragged sob. 

Hearing her, he wished he could carve his chest open and allow her to crawl in. Fuck, he would do anything to take her pain, to have her even closer, to prove he was never letting her go again. 

That he would always protect her. 

“I've got you, Kari. I'm here.” The words flowed from him like an anguished prayer. “I'm here, sweet Kari. I'm not going anywhere.”

The scent of blood clung to her but he ignored it for the moment. She was here in his arms. Alive and well. 

That was all that mattered. 

He could have stood there for all eternity, the world continuing to spin and empires rising and falling without an ounce of care from him. None of it mattered. Three weeks he had been in turmoil and despair, waiting, wondering, hoping for a sign from her. Anything to prove she still cared about him, still wanted him. That he had not completely fucked up the best thing in his life with a stupid mistake. He planned on planting roots right here on the dirty hospital floor for as long as Kari needed him. The fucking nurses and other patients could move around his crippled ass. 

His father had other plans though. 

A tap on his shoulder had Ivar looking up into his father's face, a subtle look of relief there.  “There's a room for her. Let's move her there.”

He gave a brief nod. With the movement, he became aware of the moisture on his face. When had he started crying? He had been so absorbed in finally - finally! - seeing his kitten, in holding her and providing any kind of comfort she needed, he had not realized his own roiling emotions had exploded out in tears of relief and gratitude, that he was practically bleeding out his stress and harbored despair. And for one of the first times in his life, he did not care if others saw his tears. 

Somehow he coaxed Kari along as he followed his father. A strange dance as they moved since she seemed to have no inclination of letting him go. Not that he objected in any way. It was in moments like this he cursed his legs, for if he was whole-bodied he could have picked Kari up and carried her. Instead, with an arm tight around her shoulders and her pressed against his side, refusing to release her vice-like grip on his shirt, they slowly moved. 

The ‘room’ they were directed to was just a curtained off section with a single bed, single chair and some monitors pressed against the wall behind the bed. Similar to the many other sectioned off ‘rooms’ of patients waiting to be moved on or sent home. 

Carefully, Ivar maneuvered Kari and himself to sit on the hospital bed. She curled against him, her ear against his heart and one hand toying with his Mjölnir necklace. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him. His other hand's fingers were intertwined with hers in his lap. 

Like sentinels, his father sat in the chair, sharp gaze shifting from the closed curtain to his youngest son, while his brother took up position next to their father, arms crossed over his chest. The two began whispering but Ivar only briefly noted their presence.

His attention was drawn to Kari as she whispered something. 

“What was that, kattungen?”

“You came.” She breathed, her voice raspy and shaky as if holding back more tears. “I gave them your number. I–I wasn't sure if you'd come. I just...I was scared and wanted you.”

How was it possible with such a simple statement, it completely disarmed him. His heart lurched at hearing the undercurrent of fear in her voice, sounding like a child admitting they were scared of the dark. What was worse, what broke his heart, was her fear that he would not come. That he would abandon her. 

He pressed his lips to the top of her head in a slow syrup-like kiss, hoping his actions and words would penetrate through her worry. “I'll always come for you.”

“Please don't leave.”

He tipped his head up for a moment, a useless act to try and stop the fresh wave of tears from flowing freely down his cheeks. “I promise.” His voice broke as he answered. “I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” She sobbed out, clinging to him even tighter if possible. 

“Shhh…it's okay. Let's focus on getting you out of here, okay?”

She nodded, a faint thing, but he felt it for how tightly she was pressed against him. 

A couple minutes later, a doctor stepped behind the curtain, joining the crowded space. He paused a moment, seeing to register the group along with his patient. He cleared his throat loudly before glancing down at the folder in hand. 

“Good day, I'm Doctor Schultz, the attending doctor here today. Miss Larsen?” The doctor paused, eyes focused on his patient. 

When she did not respond, Ivar squeezed her hand. “It's okay, søte Kari, I'm here.”

“Yes, doctor?” She quietly, hesitantly, said. 

“How are you feeling?”

With that fucking stupid question, Ivar wanted to punch the absolute, incompetent asshole of a doctor but settled for glaring at him over Kari's head. 

“I've been better.” She replied. 

The doctor smiled. “I'm sure. The good news is your scans came back clean. You do not appear to have any cranial or brain damage more than a concussion.” He hesitated, as if rolling around a question in his mind before carefully allowing it out. “Is there anywhere else that hurts? My understanding is the paramedics said you were initially screaming when they arrived on scene.”

“Doctor, can you explain what occurred? We were not told about the incident beyond the fact that she was being attended to at this hospital.” Ragnar broke in, his voice broking no argument that his question would be answered first. 

“Of course. Miss Larsen and a companion were involved in a car accident. It appears another driver was not paying attention and drove through a red light, impacting their vehicle.”

A car accident.  

A goddamn car accident. 

Inhaling sharply, Ivar felt the air stick to his lungs like glue. Mentally he thanked the gods, Fate and anyone listening for keeping Kari safe. The outcome could have been very different. 

“Is Erik okay?” The quiet query came from beside Ivar.  

“I'm not supposed to speak of other patients,” the doctor said but his face softened as he looked at Kari, “but I just saw him and he sustained more injuries than you. He likely will be walking out of here later today.”

“Erik?” Ivar asked his kitten. 

“My neighbor. He was driving us to the grocery store.”

Erik. Fucking Erik. Ivar did not like the overly friendly neighbor, the twat was trying to encroach on HIS territory. Now hearing this, he hated the man even more. The accident may not have been entirely his fault, but Kari was injured and traumatized while in his presence. That was unforgivable. 

“Miss Larsen, is there anywhere that hurts? You were fairly nonverbal when you arrived.”

“My…my shoulder…and my neck.”

“May I take a look?”

Ivar loathed to separate from her, but he removed his arm from behind her so the doctor would examine her. Damn, if he was going to move though. Plus with the way Kari did not release his hand, he doubted she wanted him further away. 

The doctor opened his mouth, but at the look that promised death on Ivar's face, he wisely did not ask Ivar to move. 

“Hmm.” The doctor hummed as he looked at Kari's neck and ran a hand along the slender column. Gently, he tugged the neckline of her sweater to see better after touching it and asking if his touch caused pain.  

Ivar gritted his teeth, as he glared with disdain at the invasive doctor. He was ready to intervene any moment the doctor went too far in his opinion but a purposeful squeeze from Kari's hand brought him back down. To distract them both, he brought their entwined fingers to his mouth. Teasingly, he kissed each of her knuckles as he held eye contact and gave a cheeky wink. His heart soared as a faint blush warmed her cheeks and a small, shy smile turned the corners of her lips up.

“Well, Miss Larsen,” the doctor stepped back and scribbled on his chart, “I do not see anything too concerning. I suspect the pain is from whiplash and the seat belt tightening. I can already see some bruising beginning on your shoulder, which may worsen. Unless the pain dramatically increases, you will be fine. You will be sore for a few days. My suggestion is to take some over the counter pain meds and rest for the next several days. If the pain worsens, either in your body or your head, come back to the ER. Any increasing headaches, double vision, spots in your vision, fainting, anything along those lines, please return and we will check on your concussion again. Before I release you, do you have anywhere to stay that someone can watch over you?”

“She's staying with me.”

Both the doctor's and Kari's gazes swung back to him but he only stared resolute at the man that needed to hurry the fuck up. 

“Alright…Miss, are you agreeable to that?” 

She nodded silently. 

“Good. One final question, the paramedics were quite concerned about your hysterics. They made note that you only seemed to calm once they helped you out of the vehicle and even then you were silent and unresponsive for a period of time. Do you remember any of this?”

“Yes.” She croaked out, a violent shiver shaking her fragile form. 

“Can you explain what happened?”

“Is this fucking necessary?” Ivar seethed, curling his arm protectively around her and tugging her back into his side. 

“I would like to follow through with–”

Ragnar stood up, blue eyes hard as ice as he stared down the doctor. “Thank you for your time and follow through. If you can finalize the release paperwork, we will be on our way and allow you to move on with your many other patients.”

Bewildered gaze swinging to every person in the room, as if silently questioning Ragnar's subtle rebuke, the doctor sharply exhaled and stepped back to the closed curtain. “I will send a nurse in to provide the paperwork.”

With that the intrusive doctor swung open the curtain and strutted away. 

Once out of sight, Ivar mumbled, “thought he'd never fucking shut up.”

“Be nice.” Kari murmured without any heat in it, more as if it was a reflex. 

Ragnar stepped around the bed and began rustling through the small rolling cart beside the bed. He came back around with an antiseptic wipe. Ivar watched as his father ripped it open and then delicately wiped away the lingering blood on her temple and ear, with far more physical tenderness than he had ever shown his sons. Kari hissed at the initial contact but did not pull away, closing her eyes and slowly taking deep breaths. 

Once cleaned to his satisfaction, Ragnar tossed the wipe into the nearby bin. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as if steeling himself for something. Ivar glanced over at his brother, who just shrugged, his own gaze focused on their father. 

Ragnar crouched down, bringing himself eye level with Kari instead of standing over her like he had done. “Kari, do you want to leave?” He asked softly. 

What kind of dumbass question was that? Ivar opened his mouth to intervene but a cutting look from Ragnar had him almost biting through his tongue to keep quiet. 

“Yes.” She rasped back. 

“Mmm…” Ragnar nodded. “I need you to look at me, yeah? Good girl. Will you be comfortable riding in a car after this?”

Kari tensed and Ivar wanted to bash his own head against the nearest wall. Of fucking course! Why had he not thought of that yet? 

“I–I don't know…I'm sorry.”

“No, Kari. Don't be sorry.” Ivar pressed his forehead to her uninjured temple. “We'll figure something out. It's not your fault.”

Ragnar spoke again, all soft edges and thoughtfulness. “Driving Ivar's car back would be the easiest and fastest. If you are uncomfortable with that, we can find an alternative mode of transportation or we can ask a nurse to mildly sedate you.”

With a tremor in her voice, she stated, “I can try. I think I can do it. Just…could you maybe drive slow?” 

Ivar smiled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, a silent encouragement, astounded by her quiet bravery. 

“I'm certain we can manage that.” Ragnar grunted, amusement in the quirk of his lips. “One last question.”

She nodded hesitantly. 

“I need to know, if while we are driving, will you start screaming?” 

This time she answered shakily. “No.”

“Do you recall why you were screaming at the accident?”

“Father.” Ivar growled, disliking this turn of questioning. 

“I need to know for our safety.” He returned his sharp gaze back to Kari, but did soften his voice.“Do you remember?”

“Memories.”

“Memories?” Ragnar repeated. 

She hummed. 

“Were you in a car accident recently?”

“No…”

“That's enough.” Ivar snarled, tugging her closer into his side, as her quivering began anew. Whether it was those memories or fear that caused her bodily reaction, he refused to let his father bully her into an answer. He had promised to protect her…even if it was from his father's interrogation. 

Icy blue eyes shifted from his youngest to the trembling, young woman in his arms before nodding and rising back to his feet. “I'll be back.” He swept out of the small room, the curtain fluttering closed behind him. 

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, just before pressing a hand to her mouth and releasing a shaky sob. 

Ivar held her close, sheltering her from her own turbulent emotions, as she tucked her face against him. Careful not to disturb her more, he wiped away the residue of tears from his cheeks with his right hand, mindful of his cast. 

At the feeling of being watched, he met his brother's eyes from across the small closet of a curtained room. His favorite brother had always been an open book, easy to read his emotions. Even now, the relief and concern for Kari was evident in his eyes. Without a word, he nodded slowly and deliberately toward the woman in his arms. Ivar nodded in reply. A silent conversation but Ivar knew what it meant. 

Whatever you need. I'll be there. 

Several minutes later, when Kari's quiet sobs transitioned to sniffles, a nurse arrived with a clipboard and release papers. She nervously asked the two men in the room to step outside so she could ask Kari some questions privately. Ivar's hackles immediately rose, a scathing retort on his tongue ready to unleash on the nurse but a squeeze of his hand made the words fade away. 

“I'm okay.” Those blue-green eyes held his, even though red rimmed and watery, he still thought they were one of his most favorite sights. “It'll only be a minute.”

“I'll be just on the other side of the curtain.” He promised, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Call out if you need me, kattungen.”

The subtle blush that arose on her cheeks drew a wicked smile to his lips. Before he could swoop in and kiss her, making them both forget the outside world, Kari lightly pushed on his chest. 

“Go.”

“As my priestess commands.”

Her quiet laughter followed him out of the room, lightening his darkened heart like an eternal candle. Hvitserk closed the curtain behind them, taking up a position mirroring his own, standing guard in front of the room. 

Other patients and nurses moved about the long hallway, some staring at the two brothers, but they were mostly ignored, the chaos and mayhem of the emergency room taking precedence.  

Ivar closed his eyes, rubbing a hand along his forehead to try and encourage the brewing headache to fuck off. 

“How are you holding up?”

He did not even open his eyes as he heard his brother's question. The exhaustion he had been fighting, dulled by the adrenaline from the phone call and finding Kari, now hit him like a semi truck. At this rate, it was debatable if he would actually be able to fall asleep or his body would crash into a coma, forcing him to rest. He just needed to get Kari to his house. If he could get the two of them there, then they could both rest and recover….and he could beg for her to never leave him again. 

He released a long sigh. “I need a cigarette.” 

“Want to step out? I'll stay with Kari.”

For a second, he considered it but ultimately shook his head. “I'm not leaving her.”

“What's your plan now? Sounds like you offered for her to stay with us.”

“Yeah. That a fucking problem?”

Hvitserk nudged him with his elbow. “You know it's not. Just…make sure that is what SHE wants.”

“I know.” Ivar ran his hand over his head. “I need her close by. After this…I need to know she's okay.”

“Well, with the way she wouldn't let you go, I think the feeling is mutual.”

Ivar chuckled quietly, warmth flooding his entire body at the reminder. He thought that perhaps she had forgiven him and they could move forward after this. Whatever that looked like, he would take. As long as she was by his side, he did not care what title it held. He just needed her. She was his morning sunrise, the stars in his night sky. Without her, his world was dark and filled with pain and anger. 

A new set of footsteps coming down the hallway had the brothers looking up. At the face that came into view, Ivar's fatigue drained away again. Fury pulsated like a second heartbeat in his chest, shooting its tendrils throughout his body like a living organism. 

Without a second thought, his feet moved. 

The nurse walking with the man seemed to take note of Ivar first and her face paled. She halted, eyes darting around as if searching for help, for someone to intervene. It was only then her patient took notice. 

But it was too late. It was time to pass the man's sentence and in this case, Ivar was judge, jury and executioner. 

He stormed up to the man, with rage a phantom above him and vengeance nipping at his heels. “You stay the fuck away from Kari. This is your fucking fault she's here!”

“No, the other driver–” Erik tried to defend himself but Ivar was beyond caring about excuses. 

Ivar shoved him. Hard.

Erik stumbled back and fell on his ass, unable to fully stop his fall with his right arm in the sling. A pained hiss slipped from his lips as his body jolted at hitting the floor. 

“Sir, you can't–” the nurse tried to step in but Ivar pointedly ignored her, his full attention at the man sprawled at his feet. 

“I don't give a fuck! You stay the fuck away from her!” 

He took a step back, his eyes, cold as stone, stared the man down as if daring him to say anything. He could see the scattering of cuts on Erik's face and body, most likely from the airbag, the arm sling, and the wrap around his knee. None of it phased the Lothbrok. He did not give a flying fuck about him or his injuries. Under Erik's watch, Kari had gotten hurt. Something that would NEVER happen again. 

Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Ivar turned to head back to his brother when he heard the resentful mutter behind his back. 

“Psycho asshole.”

He could feel the insult sink in and flow through every part of his body. His concern had been for Kari, with keeping her safe. But now, with that one utterance…the idiot had made this personal. 

Before Erik blinked, Ivar had whipped around and grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt. He hauled him up roughly to stare into his face. The youngest Lothbrok reveled in the shock and fear that coated the blond's face. People always forgot that he spent a good portion of his life crawling around when his legs were unusable due to surgeries or pain, which built up his upper body strength. Even now, he still enjoyed working out his upper body, being as strong as possible, proving he was more than his useless legs. 

“You want to say that to my face, you little fucker?” He sneered. “Huh?”

“IVAR!”

At the shout of his name, he looked over his shoulder. Hvitserk stood beside Kari, the latter with a hand over her mouth and beseeching eyes wide. A few paces in front of them stood his father, the one who called his name, poised ready to intervene and yank his son away. 

Without remorse, Ivar roughly let go of Erik. “Stay away from her, or I won't be so nice next time.” With the threat looming above them, he turned and headed back to his family…

…Back to his kitten and hopefully away from this fucking awful place. 

“Kari, you don't have to go with him!” 

Ivar froze. Again. 

“I–I can drive you home. I'll be discharged soon if you'll just…wait.”

The entire hall waited with baited breath. Only the sounds of the machines beeping could be heard. 

Yet his whole world had narrowed down to Kari. His eyes zeroed in on her, waiting, watching, for a sign, a subtle hint, instruction on what to do next. Did he go to her? Or was she terrified of him once again? Should he turn around and rip that little fucker's spine out of his body? As these questions whirled about like a chaotic storm, his feet remained firmly planted. 

Until her. 

Like a sunbeam breaking through the darkest storm, that was his Kari. 

His light. His life. 

With his name on her lips but no sound uttered, she held out her hand for him. Those stunning eyes focused on him, calling, summoning, drawing him in. 

And like a moth to the flame, he followed. But instead of death being at the source of light for him, there was the brightest joy and affection, belonging and loyalty. 

He reached out, taking her hand as he got closer and drew her back to his side. He planted a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Let's go home, kattungen.” 

Neither Ivar nor Kari looked back at Erik. 

They followed Hvitserk and Ragnar out to Ivar's car. Ragnar drove with his son in the passenger seat, and Ivar and Kari in the back. Kari was still tucked in his side, head on his shoulder and holding hands. 

As the vehicle pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, her body began to subtly shake. Ivar tugged her onto his lap and began softly speaking, trying to soothe her in his native tongue. Like a child, she tucked her face into his neck as if to hide from the world. Her hand gripped his with a death grip, but he paid no mind, encouraging and comforting however he could. 

About halfway through the drive, Kari finally spoke, her trembling having subsided. “Why do you have a cast?” 

He glanced down at the damn thing laying across her thighs. “Broke my hand.”

“How?”

“Boxing.”

“Hmmm…did you win?” 

He snorted, glancing at her, meeting her face with a small smile. “I always win.”

“Uh huh. Sure you do.” She rasped out, her voice sounding a little stronger but still rough. 

“Are you teasing me right now?”

She mock-gasped. “No one would dare tease you.”

He squeezed the top of her knee, making her squirm and squeak. “And you remember that.”

The conversation died out; silence reigned for a while. Ivar rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand as he rested his head on top of hers with eyes closed. Exhaustion crept back in once again, tugging his eyelids shut and numbing his mind. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed, with Kari joining him, and lock his bedroom door so no one could bother them for at least three days. Maybe a week. 

“Oh no!” Kari gasped, abruptly sitting upright. 

Her sudden startle, sent a shockwave through him. He bolted upright, mind racing. “What?”

“All my groceries. They were in the back of Erik's car. I don't– I don't have money to buy more.”

He chuckled, tugging her back to lean against him. He could not believe she would panic over such a small thing. “Don't worry about it. I've got it.” 

“But, that's not–”

“Kari,” he interrupted her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. “I'll take care of it. Understand?”

“Yes.”

She answered correctly but he could see - could sense - her hesitation, that wavering confidence. Something he needed to alleviate.

He released her chin to tenderly caress her cheek before guiding her forehead to press against his. “I'll take care of you.” He repeated, hoping his words would sink into her mind and plant there, for he meant every one. “Whatever you need. Groceries. New clothes. A car. I'll get it, you just tell me. Okay?” 

“You don't have to. It's not–”

“I want to.” He interrupted. “I want to take care of you. Don't you understand. I…I failed you but that won't happen again. Please, kitten. Please, just let me do this.” 

Time paused as he waited for her reply, for her agreement, for a sign. Anything! Forehead still pressed to his, she slowly breathed. Panic might have crept in to discourage him if he had not been able to feel her hand playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. She was still so relaxed, so trusting, in his lap. He knew all he had to do was wait.

And so he waited for her. 

Like he promised he would. 

Finally, she quietly sighed out her response before slipping back against his chest and cuddling close. “Thank you, Ivar.”

A wave of gratitude and affection filled his soul. A dopey grin on his face, he tugged her closer and laid his head back on hers. 

“Anything for you, Kari.”

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

[knight-of-flowerss]

she-bear : chapter one

navigation | warnings : inspector calls reference, nameday instead of birthday | a/n : hiii so I know this isn't really good but I'm very ill and can't think straight but I wanted to atleast get one chapter done! | wattpad | tags : @thethreeeyed-raven , @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @thelirofnorthlands , @naaladareia , @not-that-syndrigast

Even when I was a child all I ever saw was war, death and sorrow but even through all the sadness, there was a sort of beauty.

My grandmother always told me that if I couldn't find a beauty in something depressing then there was no point in living in this dog eat dog world.

My father always hated that I thought like that. I don't blame him though, he was jealous. He was jealous he couldn't have that childlike optimism as he faced death and savagery almost every day as he is a well known Lord and General. I'm glad he isn't like me though, being so high ranked in an large army, you need a hard head, not to be blessed with the spotlight of pink and intimate lighting.

My mother was a stern woman, if you had done something wrong, disobeyed her rules, basically anything she didn't like, you would be punished. She would spank you in front of a cross with Jesus Christ on it as you begged for his forgiveness and if you didn't beg good enough, she would leave bloody marks.

But that was only the part where you misbehaved, my mother loves us but she can lose her temper quickly which is why I'm thankful for my youngest sister, Greta.

Because of Greta's young age she is very impressionable, she is the apple of my mothers eye, she calms her down and convinces her to at least ease on the force of her punishment.

My grandfather, Bernhard, is one of the bravest men I have ever met. He was like my father, a general, it runs in our blood to be leaders of great army's, to make our mark in history. The reason why he is the bravest men I have ever met is because when he was young, on his 46th name day, he and my grandmother found out that he was sick, really sick. They advised him not to battle, to let someone else to take over. But my grandfather is too prideful for that, he would rather die and meet our saviour and creator early than sit by, not serve his country and die as a weak frail man.

He was told he wouldn't last to see his 48th name day but that was thirty two years ago and he is still holding on yet his health is rapidly declining, I fear he might go soon.

My older siblings are Valda, Stefan and Elsa. Valda and Stefan are twins, always arguing but always sharing secrets. Even though Stefan is a man and Valda is a woman, most the time it's like they've switched roles. Stefan is the brains and Valda is the brawn.

Elsa is a woman grown, the oldest. Many whisper about her and call her crazy, yet she is not. Elsa and her late husband where head in heels in love, getting married at a young age, Elsa being only 20 and her sweetheart being 22, sadly three years later, only 7 months ago, he got killed in battle, defending his fallen brethren against the pagans.

My family isn't the most perfect but we get by. We carry on our bloodline and make centuries of our ancestors proud, 'Es lebe Haus Godfrey, es lebe unsere Krieger, es lebe Deutschland'. [long live house Godfrey, long live our warriors, long live Germany.]

[dreamonseems]

Líf

First raid

- Story eight of Líf series of one-shot stories about Ubbe, his reader wife, and their children. Every story will be different but within the same universe. Nothing will be in order, just random stories about their lives.

⚠️ Warning: Smut in this chapter!

- Ok I made up a place called Raven United so any race reading this can Imagine being the reader.

Summary: You go on your first raid. There's some trouble, but Ubbe is always there to protect you.

As the Viking army sailed towards their target, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her veins. She watched as Ubbe and his brothers prepared for battle, their faces stern and focused. Ragnar stood beside them, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.

When they finally arrived at their destination, she jumped off the boat, sword in hand. She followed Ubbe and the others, her heart pounding. They charged forward, their battle cries ringing through the air.

At first, she felt overwhelmed by the chaos of battle. She saw men fall around her, heard the clang of swords and shields, and smelled the blood and sweat of their comrades. But as the battle raged on, She found herself falling into a rhythm, moving with the others, defending herself, and attacking their enemies.

They fought bravely, taking down several of the enemy soldiers with their swords. She felt a sense of pride and accomplishment as she fought alongside Ubbe, knowing that she was proving herself as a worthy shieldmaiden.

After the battle was won, she felt a sense of exhilaration and relief. She had survived her first raid, and she knew that she had proven herself to Ubbe and the others. She felt more confident in her ability as a warrior and knew that she had a bright future ahead of her as a shieldmaiden.

After the successful raid, the warriors were in high spirits and celebrated around the fire with meat and mead. Ubbe was caught up in the moment and was laughing and drinking with his brothers, while Y/N sat a little way off, lost in her thoughts.

Suddenly, a warrior from their army approached her and started to flirt with her. At first, she politely declined his advances, but he became increasingly forceful and wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried to leave, but the warrior grabbed her arm and struck her across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed across the camp, drawing the attention of the other warriors, including Ubbe. He rushed over to her, his eyes blazing with fury.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ubbe growled, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The warrior, who was still holding onto Y/N, sneered at Ubbe. "Just having a bit of fun with the new girl. What's it to you?"

"She's my wife," Ubbe said through gritted teeth. "And I won't tolerate anyone treating her like that."

The warrior laughed. "Your wife? She's just a slave you bought."

Without hesitation, he drew his sword and charged at the warrior, engaging him in a fierce battle.

The fight was short-lived as Ubbe was an experienced warrior, and the offending warrior was quickly overpowered. In a swift move, Ubbe dealt the fatal blow, ending the warrior's life. Y/N, shaken but unharmed, watched on as her husband defended her honor.

As they entered the tent, Ubbe noticed how shaken Y/N was. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her hands were shaking. He sat her down on their bedroll and knelt in front of her.

"Shh, shh," he said softly. "It's okay. You're safe now." Ubbe held her close, stroking her hair as she wept

She clung to him, her tears wetting his shirt. "I just feel so overwhelmed," she admitted. "Everything that happened today, and that warrior... I don't know if I can handle this."

Ubbe tightened his hold on her. "You're stronger than you think," he said. "You proved that today. You fought bravely, and you defended yourself when that man tried to hurt you. You're a shieldmaiden now, my love. You're one of us."

She sniffled, looking up at him. "But what if I'm not good enough?" she asked. "What if you realize that and leave me?"

Ubbe's eyes softened. "I will never leave you, my love," he said firmly. "You're my wife, and I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would do anything for you. Please don't ever doubt that."

Her eyes met his, searching for any sign of falsehood. But all she found was love and sincerity. Slowly, she began to relax in his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just... I get scared sometimes. It's a lot to take in."

Ubbe kissed her forehead. "I know. But we're in this together, my love. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Ubbe's lips met Y/N's. She felt a rush of warmth spread throughout her body. She could taste the mead on his breath as he kissed her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. His hands were tender as they cupped her face, and she felt his fingers gently stroking her hair.

She wrapped her arms around Ubbe's neck, deepening the kiss. She could feel his muscles tensing as he held her closer, as if afraid to let her go. The world around them faded away as they lost themselves in the moment, lost in the passion that burned between them.

Finally, Ubbe broke the kiss, looking into her eyes with a mix of desire and affection. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I will always love you."

smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I love you," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Ubbe's hands roamed freely over her back, pulling her even closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

Their tongues danced together in a fiery tango, exploring each other's mouths as they lost themselves in the moment. She could feel her heart racing, her body trembling with anticipation as Ubbe's hands traced down her spine, sending shivers of pleasure through her entire body.

Their kiss grew more passionate, Ubbe's grip on her tightened. She surrendered herself completely to him, letting him take control as she felt herself slipping into a deep state of arousal.

Without breaking the kiss, Ubbe began to remove her clothing, one piece at a time, revealing her supple skin to the firelight. She felt her body heat up with desire, wanting nothing more than to feel his touch on her bare skin. She returned the favor, helping Ubbe out of his clothes until they were both naked and exposed to each other's eyes.

Their lips never once parted, as they explored each other's bodies with hungry eyes and eager hands.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you," Ubbe whispered in her ear as his fingers began to work on her core. She moaned in pleasure, her body responding to his touch. "Please, Ubbe," she whimpered, unable to hold back her desire any longer.

She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter with each passing moment, her body craving more of Ubbe's touch. She moaned loudly, her hands gripping tightly onto his muscular shoulders as he continued to work his magic.

Finally, when he could tell she was ready, he removed his fingers and positioned himself above her. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. She nodded, a look of anticipation and longing on her face. With a deep breath, he slowly entered her, filling her completely with his hard, throbbing member.

gasped in pleasure, her body arching up to meet his as he began to move in a slow, rhythmic motion. She could feel every inch of him inside of her, and she loved it.

She moaned as Ubbe continued to move inside her with increasing speed and intensity. She couldn't believe how much she loved this man and how much he loved her, She felt safe and protected in his arms, and the pleasure he was giving her was beyond anything she had ever experienced before.

As Ubbe's grip tightened around her, she felt a surge of arousal coursing through her body. she moaned, her fingers digging into his skin as she held on tight. "More."

Ubbe's smirk grew wider as he heard her words. He growled, his pace quickening. "Look at you, Wife taking me so well, so deep."

She couldn't speak, lost in the pleasure that was consuming her entire being. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, and she knew that Ubbe was right there with her. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies in sync as they reached the peak of pleasure together.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unexpected: Part 4

Summary: Ragnar returns, angst ensues (yes, he has that effect).

Notes: How do we feel about the reader finding out she’s preggers while Ivar is gone? (no, he won’t die on the raid)

Tagged: @bragisrunes @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @alicedopey @draculasbride-blog

Masterlist | Part 3 | requests are OPEN!

Ivar had been undressing her in the stables when Hvitserk had burst in, looking up at the ceiling because this was his little brother and not Ubbe, to tell him the impossible: Ragnar Lothbrok had returned to Kattegat.

She blushed furiously as she pulled one of her new dresses over her shoulders and helped Ivar with his crutches, but Hvitserk smirked at him knowingly.

“Should I accompany you?” she asked. Ivar shook his head.

“Go tell my mother.”

She nodded, leaving for the Great Hall, while he and Hvitserk went in a different direction.

“So when are you marrying her?” Hvitserk asked.

“I won’t.” Ivar replied simply.  Despite their father waiting for them at the other end of the town, Hvitserk stopped dead in his tracks.

“Why?”

“Mother made me promise I wouldn’t.” Ivar admitted, walking on. “And anyway, why do you care, hm?”

Hvitserk shrugged. “I want her as my sister-in-law.”

“I am not Ubbe.” Ivar hissed.

“I like her. She is kind, and I want to eat the bread she makes for the rest of my life. You should commit to her, tell mother that you truly love her.” Hvitserk insisted.

“For bread?”

“There’s been worse reasons.” Hvitserk laughed. His smile died down when they saw the crowd that had gathered around their raging father. Ivar caught the disappointment in Hvitserk’s eyes. But not him. This was what he had expected.

The people of Kattegat let his brothers through easily, but Ivar had to push his way through. His eyes met Ragnar’s the first time when he shouted, “Who wants to be king?”

For a moment, Ivar felt a rush, wanted to reach forward and take the sword that was offered to him, before he froze. He wasn’t stupid. So he let Ragnar throw his tantrum and embarrass himself, while he stayed still and let his mannerisms wash over him.

In eight years, nothing had changed about his father.

Aslaug’s POV:

Ivar’s girl came running into the Great Hall suddenly. She looked out of breath, for more than one reason. It seemed that once her youngest son had discovered he was a man, Ivar was insatiable.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Ragnar Lothbrok has returned to Kattegat.” She managed. Aslaug froze.

She was queen. Had been for the last eight years – Ragnar couldn’t just take that from her now.

“Prepare for a feast. Then come help me dress.” She commanded. Then, Aslaug left the room to go to her own chamber. With steady hands, she removed her current jewelry, searching for something more imposing. She wanted Ragnar to know that it was her who had built Kattegat into a trading center in the last eight years.

Ragnar made it to the room before she could. Aslaug slipped on the jade bangle that Ivar had gifted her, coming from a kingdom whose name she couldn’t begin to say. He slipped into the room like a shadow, quiet.

“My wife,” Ragnar greeted her. “And mother of my sons. We both know that love was not what brought us together. But you’ve endured me. You’ve suffered my words, and my neglect. Yet you never turned our sons against me. I am sure that there are times when you’ve hated me. But you never poisoned their minds, or stopped them from loving me. And for all of that, with all of my heart, I am grateful to you.”

She could feel his hands on her, fumbling with her hair and Aslaug wanted to turn around and scratch his eyes out. He continued, unbothered, even kissing her hair. He fucking petted her, like she was a dog, and Aslaug hoped that the Gods would strike him down where he stood. Yet, she didn’t move.

“Why are you saying this now?” Aslaug asked instead. Before he can reply, the slave returns, carrying her finest coat. She froze at the sight of Ragnar, standing behind her.

“Apologies, my queen.” She mumbled. Aslaug felt relief wash over her, and pride fill her. This slave saw her as queen of Kattegat, and not Ragnar as King. She didn’t even know a time where Ragnar had ruled here.

She laid down her coat before making to leave, but Aslaug stopped her.

“Stay.” She commanded.

The slave nodded, moving towards Aslaug, who stood from her seat abruptly. She could feel the chair hit Ragnar’s thigh. He took a step back, and Aslaug allowed herself to smile.

“This is Ivar’s slave.” She told Ragnar, who nodded. Before the slave could turn away, Ragnar caught her jaw in his hand. For the first time, Aslaug wanted to side with her.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Y/N.” she replied. There was a pause at the end, and it was clear she wasn’t sure how to address him.

“What are you to my son?” Ragnar asked her.

“It would be better to ask him, I am but a slave.” She replied, avoiding his question. Ragnar rolled his eyes, suddenly bored and let her go. Aslaug stepped toward her, challenging Ragnar. He scoffed, and left the room.

“Thank you.” The slave said, her voice almost a whisper.

“We are still both women.” Aslaug shrugged.

Ivar’s POV:

She looked shaken when she came back to him, and he immediately knew that Ragnar had something to do with it. The entire way to the lake, she hadn’t said a word.

“Did he do something to you?” Ivar asked.

“He just- he’s very intimidating.” She replied. “But that’s to be expected of someone like him, I suppose.”

“And I am not intimidating?” Ivar poked.

“To others maybe.” She replied. “But?” Ivar challenged.

“I could see right through you.” She laughed. “He’s like a wall.”

They sat at the lake in silence for a while. Her head was on his lap for once, and Ivar combed through her hair gently while he tried to bring up the courage to tell her. He had agreed on it with his father in the morning, right after his return. It was late afternoon now, and Ivar still couldn’t bear to tell her.

He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to do this.

“I’m going to England.” He told her quietly.

“Is Ubbe going to lead the raid? Or you?” she asked. She had no idea.

“My father. Ubbe isn’t coming.” He said. Abruptly, she sat up.

“No.” she replied.

“No?” Ivar asked. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean that the others talk. No one takes him seriously, after what happened in the town square. He’ll have to pay people to come with him.”

She looked at him intently, until her expression shifted, and she realized.

“You knew that.” She said. “You knew.”

“It’s my only chance to die with honor.” Ivar sighed. He saw horror take hold of her.

“That’s not true!” she argued.

“It is.” Ivar replied, feeling his fist dig into the soft ground beneath them.

“So you mean to leave me here? Alone? What will I do?” she asked. Ivar’s stomach sunk. He hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t say anything and for a while, he let her seethe with an anger that normally radiated off of him.

“I won’t let you go.” She decided. Ivar barked a cold laugh at her.

“You can’t stop me. You’ll return to your duties, and I’ll have Hvitserk and mother look after you.” Ivar told her. That would be the end of it, and she’d let him go without having his stomach turn into knots.

“No. I’m not letting you leave Kattegat.”

“You forget yourself.” Ivar roared. “You are a slave.”

She didn’t say anything, instead getting up. Then, despite what it could mean to her life, she spat at his feet.

“Fuck you, Ivar Lothbrok. I really thought you cared.”

He sat at the lake alone, until it got cold, stewing in his anger. He didn’t want to hurt anyone when he got home. And when he wanted to get back, his anger only grew again.

Normally, she helped him walk over the soft ground around the lake. He hadn’t dragged himself through the mud in months. He gritted his teeth together and began, ignoring the pain in his knees and shins, knowing that he would have to command her to take care of him later. She wouldn’t do it from her own volition, like normally.

He was halfway through the part of the way that had mud when he heard voices. Embarrassed, he turned around, seeing Ubbe and Hvitserk come towards him. Not this, not now.

Their laughter died down when they saw Ivar, his face marred with anger and completely alone. They looked at each other and then, wordlessly, they came towards him and lifted him up, helping him. Hvitserk didn’t mention ‘his girl’ and Ubbe gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

They carried him until he could walk again, and then, Ubbe handed him his crutch.

She passed him outside of the Great Hall, barely sparing him a glance. Ivar could see that she was still just as angry as at the lake, as well as hurt.

“My princes.” She greeted them. Her voice was cold, emotionless. Hvitserk hissed through his teeth when she was gone.

“Ouch.” He commented.

“Don’t push it.” Ivar snapped.

“Talk to her.” Ubbe suggested. “Make her see sense.”

“I can’t.” Ivar replied.

“Yeah, because you picked out someone just as thickheaded as you.” Hvitserk snorted. “Maybe try apologizing for your death wish.”

Ivar pushed him, hard, but Hvitserk only laughed, hands up in mock-surrender.

“He’s trying to help.” Ubbe reminded. Ivar didn’t reply, and Ubbe sighed. “I’ll take care of her while you’re gone.” He promised. Ivar nodded, before he limped off.

A few days later: Hvitserk and Bjorn leave for the Mediterranean

She hadn’t slept in his bed, not once. Ivar hadn’t made any attempts to apologize. His brothers could say what they wanted; he wouldn’t lower himself to her. She was lucky to be alive, and he didn’t even love her.

That is a lie. A voice in his head whispered. Strangely enough, while there was a rift between them, she had grown closer with his mother. They kept together whenever he saw them together, never talking, but keeping their distance from Ragnar.

She was there at the docks now, while Aslaug said goodbye to Hvitserk. She offered him a polite small as he passed her, and Ivar felt his fist clench with anger. He didn’t want anyone to look at her. When he glanced over at her, their eyes met for a second.

He looked away first, but he had seen the amber necklace around her neck. When the ships were gone, she followed behind Aslaug silently, while Ivar remained at the docks. He stayed there for hours, until it began to get darker.

Ivar sat down at the beach. He had seen Ragnar come here yesterday. When Ragnar had come back, he hadn’t uttered a single word, but Bjorn had given him a sad smile. Ivar didn’t know what it meant, and he couldn’t figure it out.

He tried to be frustrated about that, instead of her, but he failed miserably. When he heard steps in the sand behind him, he whirled around. She was on the beach too, but she hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Y/N.” he blurted out.

“My prince.”

Ivar patted the spot beside him, hoping that she would come. She hesitated, but eventually, she sunk down beside him, smoothing out her dress. It was the green one.

“Queen Aslaug-“ she said after a while, searching for the right words. “She tried to explain. I think neither of us want you to go, and I don’t want to understand. If you have to go, I cannot stop you. I just-“

She broke off, and they sat in silence for a while. “I am-“ Ivar began. He wanted to say he was sorry, he really did. “I didn’t want to cause you pain.” He said instead. “But it’s my only chance. Do you understand?”

“No.” she said simply. Ivar sighed.

“Promise you’ll come back to me. Valhalla can wait.” She whispered.

“I’ll try.” Ivar replied.

“It’s not enough.” She said, demanding. She was always demanding, but Ivar didn’t stop her. He wanted to give her whatever she demanded of him. He kissed her instead, because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

When they broke apart, he saw tears glittering in her eyes, angrily wiping at his when he felt the familiar sting. She mirrored his actions, before her hands began to clench into fists. Neither of them wanted to cry, and Ivar felt himself regretting his promise to Ragnar more and more.

He felt desperate, and lost and confused, but most of all, he felt angry. Angry at Ragnar for returning now, angry at her for ignoring him and angry at himself for hurting her.

“I love you.” He blurted out. Despite what I promised mother.

Her eyes grew wide at his confession, before she gave him a smile. A real one, one of those only he got to see. “I love you too.” She replied. “I love you so much.”

“Thank the Gods.” He stammered out. It wasn’t supposed to be something he wanted to say out loud.

“I missed you.” She admitted. “In two days, you won’t even be here at all.”

“Ubbe will take care of you.” Ivar promised.

“Prince Ubbe will take care of all my needs?” she joked, and Ivar rolled his eyes.

“Think of me.” He replied, imitating Bjorn’s cocky tone. She snorted, before she pushed him down gently, straddling his lap.

“As if that even comes close.”

Ivar felt pride swell in his chest, pulling her down toward him. His hand closed around her neck, squeezing gently, and she gave him a soft moan. Only now he realized how much he had missed this.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered. Spurred on, she began tugging at his vest.

“Outside?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t like that.”

“No one’s around. We’ll just have to be quiet.” She replied.

“You? Quiet?” Ivar asked. She rolled her eyes, getting up quickly, holding his crutch towards him. Ivar swore he had never walked so fast in his life as they made their way to the Great Hall.

They passed Aslaug, who only rolled her eyes at them, and then Sigurd and Ubbe.

“Well someone’s made up.” Ubbe called after them. Ivar shot a look in his direction, but by that time, he was busy with Margrethe again.

They barely made it into his room and onto the bed, and Ivar had to restrain himself not to rip the dress off of her. He had wanted to take his time with her, to make her squirm under him, but right now, Ivar did not have the patience for that. Instead, he let her guide him into her.

Ivar grabbed her by the hips, flipping them around so that he was on top, before he thrusted into her. He wasn’t careful, or gentle, but her moans spurred him on.

She scratched his back raw, and in return, Ivar grabbed whatever he could greedily. He felt wild, and free, and for a moment, he could forget that he was leaving her behind.

That he was abandoning her.

“You need to slow down.” She gasped under him. “Please.”

Immediately, Ivar came to a halt.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Keep going, just a bit slower please.” She replied.

He began thrusting more lazily, and she held him close. Ivar’s forehead rested on hers, and he closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He finally whispered.

“I know. I’m sorry too.” She replied.

“It showed me you truly cared.”

The day that Ivar left, she handed him his new sword at the dock. His mother asked him not to go one last time, but Ivar’s mind was set. He hugged her goodbye, before he moved on to his girl.

“May the Gods keep and protect you.” She told him. Everything else, she left unsaid.

“And you.” Ivar mumbled. If he looked at her, he wouldn’t be able to leave. So he turned around and got into the boat. Ragnar patted him on the back, giving him a look Ivar couldn’t read. He only knew that Ragnar thought this girl didn’t mean anything to Ivar.

As the boat sailed away, Ivar looked back at Kattegat. Neither of the women moved, both unwavering until they were out of sight.

[barnes-lothbrok]

Jealousy

Ivar x reader

Summary - Ivar and you have always had a bond, a closeness but over time and as you mature things change, Ivar gains feeling he can't explain

Warnings - angst, fluff, death of a parent, swears

Word count - 2k

This all started because of a gif set by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie and I sort of ran away with it

ווווווווווווווווווווווו×

You grow up alongside the sons of Ragnar.  Being the daughter of Aslaug's closest confidant, you were always in close proximity to the brothers during childhood. You were closest in age to Ivar having been born only a few months before and as you grew together, you formed a bond that no one could truly explain. 

You were the only one who wasn't terrified of him after the incident with the boy. As all the children in Kattegat would run away from him, making a game out of it, you were seen happily pulling his cart around, chatting away to him as you venture around the town taking him anywhere he wished to go.

On days where he was unable to play, you would sit with him and make up stories to keep him entertained, often acting out some of the scenes, bouncing around his room as you fought a dragon or giant sea monster. 

As time passed a few things changed, while he was being mentored by Floki, your mother had you learn the loom and the meaning of different herbs.

But you were never apart for long as on days when he was still busy you would run to Floki's cabin and wait for him. On days when you didn't meet Ivar, he would wait for you by the tree you'd claim as your own when you were younger, having craved IL + YN into the trunk.

You spent hours laying under the tree, side by side, watching as the sunset and the stars appeared twinkling between its branches. It was the place you shared your hopes and dreams with one another.

You wished to become a shield maiden, just like the legendary Lagertha, while Ivar dreamed of becoming a warrior, to be able to raid and fight along side his brothers. 

The afternoons and evenings spent under that tree was the first memory Ivar had of the flutter that appeared in his chest whenever he looked at you. You never laughed or mocked his desires, you simply listened and smiled at him. 

The first big change to your friendship was when Ivar spent the night with Margrethe. Everyone was aware of how she spent her time between the princes, of how she'd captured all of their gaze. She was extremely beautiful and you never missed the way, they all looked at her, especially Ivar. 

So one evening after having been invited to dinner and Aslaug had left the table, it was no surprise when his brothers tried to convince Ivar that Margrethe was the perfect option for him to lose his virginity. They spoke as if you were one of them. 

"I'm sure Y/N agrees" Hvitserk said, finishing a mouthful of pork "Right?" 

You looked between each of them from Hvitserk with his dopey expectant smile to Sigurd who peered from under his hair, gripping his cup a little too tight, he had always hated the idea of sharing with Ivar, and then to Ubbe who's smile dropped slightly as if he knew you didn't want to answer. 

"I mean, sure" You shrugged, looking down at your cup of ale, unable to even look at Ivar. If you had, you would have seen the light in his eyes fade a little. "The way you all speak of her, he would be a fool, not too" 

After that night and the rumours of Ivar being impotent spread, Ivar drew himself away from you, spending more time training with his brothers or at the blacksmiths. 

Your dream of becoming a shield maiden was put on hold when your mother became sick. A plague hit the town, taking your mother with it. Aslaug brought you in as a kindness for all the years your mother was by her side and treated you like a daughter she never had. She taught you many things a woman could be, beside being a shield maiden. 

On the day, Ivar took his first steps, you had been in the market when you noticed Ubbe and Hvitserk hanging around the blacksmiths. You made Hvitserk jump as you suddenly appeared between them.

"What are you doing?" You spoke loudly and close to his ear, causing him to almost choke on his apple. You were about to laugh until he pointed at two legs caged in metal on the floor. 

While grunting and groaning, Ivar heaved himself up. You wanted to rush forward and help him but Ubbe gently placed a hand on your shoulder. Taking small and wobbly steps, Ivar stood before your trio, a wide grin on his face.

"Ivar" you whispered, looking him up and down before grinning back "Ivar, you're walking!" You joyfully cried before barreling him into a hug and having to apologise profusely as you almost knocked him backwards. 

ווווווווווווווווווווווו×

It was after the return from their first raid, that Ivar noticed his brothers spending more time with you, getting closer than they did before. It seemed to grip his chest with an urge to hurt them or pull them away from you every time he saw it.

The summer away from you seemed to make the Lothbrok brothers notice how you had turned into a beautiful woman. No longer the messy haired bundle of energy that would play-fight with them or get drunk with them but a woman who held herself with elegance and grace. While they had been away, Aslaug had turned you into someone much like herself. 

Ivar first noticed Hvitserk being closer to you. The pair of you had been sparring, although their mother didn't approve, you would often join them in training when you were free to do so.

As you moved backwards, you stumbled over a small rock and while trying to catch you, Hvitserk's feet became tangled in your own. Crashing to the ground, Hvitserk arms were beside your head as he caught himself from squishing you. Your faces were inches apart as the hair falling out of his braid covered your faces like a curtain. 

Ivar didn't miss the way, you stared at each other, breaths caught before you burst out laughing when Hvitserk dropped his head and blew a wet raspberry on your cheek, causing you to squeal with laughter and push him away. 

The second was Sigurd. He nearly fell over when he walked into the hall and found you sitting on the floor in front of Sigurd. His arms were wrapped around you, from the chair above as he tried to teach you the strings to play a tune on the lyre. He'd been practicing for Ubbe and Torvi's wedding.

When he played it always sounded so beautiful but when you tried it sounded broken. 

"Sigurd, you make it looks so easy" you whined and tried again before you both cringed at the noise it made "nope, I'm leaving the music to you" 

"Probably best too, don't want to anger the gods at the wedding" He teased before surprisingly kissing your cheek. Sigurd had noticed Ivar watching and could help a smirk as he watched him leave before you looked to where Ivar had just been having missed him.

The third and final straw was Ubbe. Everyone was celebrating his marriage to Torvi. The hall was filled with music, laughter and drunken singing. It was late into the celebrations when he saw you speaking to Ubbe and Torvi. 

He'd been watching you most of the day as you walked around, looking like a goddess in your flower crown, with your hair loose. You'd laughed and spoken with many people but not him. He supposed that was his own doing as he pushed you further and further away but how he wished it was himself that you were laughing with. 

He watched over the rim of his cup as you took Ubbe's hand and began to dance. Sigurd and his band changed the music to a slower pace and Ubbe happily twirled you around, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Ivar could see you talking and smiling with each other. Ubbe said something to make you laugh, the melody echoed in Ivar's ears. 

He clenched his jaw, eyes trained on the pair of you before looking away as your eyes met his. When he looked back again, he felt his heart being squished as you kissed Ubbe's cheek. He slammed his cup down and angrily gathered his crutch. 

He couldn't watch anymore. Ubbe was married and he still had your affection, all of them did but him. Sure, he'd never seen anything more than kisses on the cheek but it was more than you had been giving him.

Ever since they returned, you didn't follow him around like you used to. In the past he would throw a tantrum and yet you would still be there the next day but now you seemed to be allowing him to keep the distance that he created and he didn't like it. 

He thought about going back in there and demanding you talk to him again, that's all he wanted, was for you to talk to him. 

That was a lie, he wanted so much more. He wanted to wake up beside you, kiss you, feel your touch. He wanted have celebrations like this for the pair of you. To have the life you promised each other under that stupid tree when you were too young and naive to understand the promises you were making.

You were meant to be his, you were always his and now you were slipping away with every passing day. 

He paused for a moment conflicted as to keep going or to turn around. If he kept going, he would have time to think but turning around meant he would get answers to satisfy the demons telling him, you hated him, that you couldn't love him, that you pitied him. 

As he turned around, he was taken aback by you coming out of the hall making your way towards him. "There you are" You smiled at him "where are you going? I was looking for you" 

"Well I'm right here, I have been all night. Not that you even care" Ivar's brow was creased, his eyes struggling to hide a burning anger. 

"Not care? Ivar, of course I care" you smiled didn't fade as you looked at him "I wouldn't have come to find you if I didn't, you donkey" 

"You have a funny way of showing it" he spat "Parading around all day. Laughing at any man's attention, even throwing yourself at the groom. It's embarrassing, like a dog in heat" 

"Throwing myself at the groom?" Your smile dropped and turned into a frown "I was congratulating Ubbe on the marriage to the woman he's loved for years. Every woman can offer the groom to dance, mine was tame compared to Greta's, which you would have seen if you hadn't stormed out" 

"I wasn't going to stay and watch you embarrass yourself any longer" he held his head high, looking down on you. 

"Embarrass myself? I was having fun. Which is more than I can say for you. Sitting in the corner of your brother's wedding, watching me with a face like someone pissed in your cup" you spat back. 

He was shocked by the fact you noticed him watching you. You always noticed those intense blue eyes on you. 

"Honestly, Ivar, I don't understand what I have done," you sighed "Ever since you got back, you have been this brooding, and sometimes cruel bastard. I have seen you like that to others but never to me" 

The way you said his name like it was laced with venom, hurt  "So tell me Ivar, what have I done?" 

His jaw clenched as he gripped his crutch harder. His demons were yelling at him to call you a whore, nothing more than someone to warm his brother's beds, that you only stuck around for the lifestyle his mother gifted you and that you'd do anything to keep it. 

But he stopped himself, as he looked at you, the expectant look on your face, the hurt in your eyes and the heavy raise and fall of your chest as if you were scared of what was going to come out of his mouth. He knew his anger could be vicious but never had it been directed at you before. 

"You make me feel…." He started before looking away from you "You make me feel," he quietly said, looking you in the eyes again "and I don't like it. I want it to stop. I don't know how to make it stop" 

[mamaskullz]

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┊┋ Pairing: Ubbe x OC

┊┋ Series Summary: "I see you'll create a legacy and

┊┋when you knew your end is coming, that’s when you

┊┋start lacking in the one wish you desired the most

┊┋because of your adventurous ways”, the tone in the

┊┋child’s voice as she spoke to the great Ragnar with the

┊┋winds flowing through her silver black hair that would

┊┋gently swiftly moves in the wind with the hues of her

┊┋white like grey slate eyes knowing her destiny would

┊┋ soon start dealing with the sons of Ragnar.

┊┋ Notes: Tw:

┊┋ Chap I~ The Valkyrie Cries~

┊┋ 2204 words count

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~790 AD~

Ever hear the cries of the Valkyries when they appear to the slain who earned their rightful place in Vahalla where they are greeted at a feast with the mighty Odin himself? What if there were rumors amongst the dead that this year would be the birth of a Valkyrie, a very resurrection of one of his faithful Valkyrie that was one of The Third of his Norns as this child earned the name of a goddess being that embodiment of that very Goddess of fate?

Heard the cries of a woman who accumulated bullets of sweat on her forehead joining the excruciating pain sent to the woman as the other women tended to her in a small wooden cobblestone home as she was on the journey of giving birth, Some were standing by her with just a white cloth dampened from the waters of a wooden bowl replacing the cloths with a new dampened cloth to keep her body cool helping her and praying to the gods that shell have a safe birth. The iron lock on the door clinked as the door burst open causing the reaction of the women to look over in the direction to see a man standing wearing a black tunic with a worried look on his face as the cries continue.

"How is she? What is news about the baby? Will the baby make it?" I heard the unsettling tones coming from his voice as one of the women tried their best to calm him down the pregnant woman's cries were heard in the background causing his concerned looks, "I assure you everything is alright, the baby is healthy and is ready to make its entrance onto the sight of the gods", As the words fell from the woman's perched slightly dry pink lips which put an ease to the Male. "Ást Mín", hearing her quivering voice call out towards the male when her sights set upon him, the male comes running over quickly as soon as he heard her call his nickname.

Falling on his knees beside their shared bed with her hand reaching out to him he successfully grabbed a hold to gradually smile at them two seeing each happily in love, "heart mín", he spoke softly unto her receiving a kiss on her wet forehead and tasting the faint salt taste on his lips, she felt his lips feeling the tension ease up feeling happy and upon the excitement ready to have this baby with the women prepared for the delivery of the baby. As they started the procedure, telling her to push as she did with her love holding her hand feeling the pressure she sent squeezing his hand while using all her strength to push forth while the other woman who was wiping the sweat from her forehead and neck gracefully, motivating her to continue with her pushing.

She almost succeeded in the delivery as the woman told her Just one more push to go the woman took a breather nodding in understanding keeping a tight grip on her love hand while he encouraged her that she was doing great giving him whispers in her ear and kisses on her forehead and cheek. Giving one last push she screamed out using all her strength and might before hearing a screeching cry of a baby, covered in its mother's vernix as the women who helped deliver the baby wrapped in a blue thick linen blanket cleaned the baby up from the white creamy transparent substance it was covered in. Holding the child in her arms she checks and sees a small smile that grows into a bright beautiful smile turning around to the couple as the tired mother and the anticipating father look back at the woman, "The Gods have blessed you with a baby girl!" Walking over to give the new parents their newborn daughter, seeing the beautiful radiant color of her skin that resembles the embers of the fire that still burns until it's only a speck of dust, with eyes like snow seeing the White like grey slate hues color of her eyes as there were silver streaks in her black milky hair earning a smile from her parents as her mother held her, "My Love shes beautiful", The Mother whispered towards to her love seeing the smile on his face as he slowly reached out wanting to hold her daughter to which The Mother lets him gently handing her over to him to his tall scrawny like stature held in his arms of embrace as he looks down to his daughter.

As the father held his newborn daughter starring her in awe flashes of visions started to appear in his mind for he was the seer with his shamanic abilities, seeing through these visions of a dark raven along with Valkyrie standing who was a goddess looking towards him before her eyes reverted to the baby giving him a nod before a flash as he saw an up close face with a man who was missing an eye speaking out to him saying "A Valkyrie rests on the rock in sleep, flickering fire flames about her with the sleep-thorn Ygg her erst did prick, other heroes she felled than he had willed, for her name of That Which Shall Be", Speaking with the deeped groggy tone of his voice speaking unto the man hearing the growls of the draugr in the background before his visions came to a clear where he comes back to his love and his daughter who was now calm after the cries she was speaking, The Father took one look at her, "I have a name that Odin himself have gifted me with, Through her beauty giving as she was blessed by Freyja herself, i have seen of our beautiful daughters future that will be an epic adventure but will be challenging that only her will have to figure out herself, for a name that comes from a Valkyrie, she rides to choose who shall be slain & govern the killings. I blessed the name Skuld Draugr coming from the youngest norn and powerful Valkyrie along with her dark aura of the strength of a Draugr. She will be one of the strongest women who will be the guide of men", the father spoke earning a smile from his love, loving the name Skuld Draugr but earning the sense of trepidation knowing what may come to him and her.

Midnight has fallen upon the couple after the delivery, The Mother and Father were fast asleep in their shared bed covered up in animal hides blankets as Skuld was in her made basinet who was peacefully sleeping until hearing in the distantce of men yells which caused the male to awake from his slumber hearing the rumbling sounds as they get closer seeing out of the window looking upon ball of light getting closer which were torches that were being carried by men, seeing the action caused the man to be afraid as he quickly woke up his dear love, grabbing a few things for her she was confused as to why he looked in the disarrayed state with confusion and grew worried in her, "My Beloved what wr-", As her words cut off short hearing the commotion outside before she came back from her love shoving her things in her face, "There no time to talk, you and Skuld need to leave Kattegat immediately", with his voice sounding scared hearing the shudder in his voice as there was no time to for an explanation as she picks up a now disturbed Skuld crying since her slumber was interrupted by her mother sudden lift into her arms as you could see the tear in her eyes falling from her face as they hugged and kissed each other one last time don't know if this is farewell forever as their eyes that were glassy from the tears looking at each other with their heart sinking one by one.

With her now running in the dark woods, she comes to a halt seeing from a distance their shared home was now being raided by Vikings the torches surrounded their home seeing them bring their beloved out of their own by force before they realized the wife & their daughter was not in there which her feet starts picking back up running once again now knowing she was gonna get hunted down heading down towards a vacant shore which she comes to seeing and empty boat, with no time to waste she gets in the boat placing down of what little belongings she had left while holding her daughter in the other arm, grabbing the oars started to move the boat with the gravity of the water she held her daughter close feeling the tears pouring from her face knowing her love will not be with him, and Skuld will not have her father watching her grow.

After a successful mission putting Skuld back to sleep the process of falling asleep herself, startled as she was when the boat hit something which caused her to wake up seeing land upon her as the sky returned to a bright light shining down her melanin skin she looked around seeing some people walking back with baskets of clothes or some carrying some food materials, she recognizes the place in the instant as she could smell the grassy mildew as she arrived in Götaland.

~793 AD, 3 Decades Later~

In the South of Svealand, in Scandinavia I heard the cheerful giggles of a little girl and bark coming from a dog seeing a now 3-year-old Skuld smiling from top to bottom playing with a fluffy rather big dog who was gray and white earning a smile from a woman who looked like she was in her mid-20s seeing how her golden brown wavy hair went all the way down to her back watching Skuld playing with the dog that seems to belong to the woman, She seems interested in my dog huh Skadi?, she spoke with her lips perched looking back at her shield maiden who was the mother of Skuld, as she looks upon her daughter given like playful at her nature, ever since upon arriving in götaland seeking shelter to which she was blessed to be picked by princess Aslaug to be her shield maiden and servant in return shelter for her and her child as Skadi learned how to use a sword by her father when she was a youngling which it grabbed her advantage as she became one of Aslaugs shield maiden. Coming back to the present, watching her daughter play making her smile remembering when she was just a baby, I do agree with you princess, As the words fell from her lips as for the other shield maidens that came along in protection of their beautiful princess Aslaug. "I wondered what it was like to bore children to see their cute-like stature growing until they grew strong among many men and women", Aslaug spoke with such curiosity while looking at Skuld, Skadi looked at Aslaug wondering what was going on in her mind before feeling her lips part, "your grace, it is like any parents who bore a child or children of their own, as the gods above have blessed them with beautiful kids that fill their heart with love and care, wanting for their kids to have the world see the beauty of kid. Will sacrifice anything to protect their own, I believe like Your grace parents when they had you princess", Skadi spoke like a true mother would, speaking from the heart of her soul as Aslaug looked over to Skadi giving her a lovely smile.

"I know your graces loved her parents by the way she will speak so highly of them while they feast with Odin in Valhalla", Skadi added knowing Aslaug loved being praised by others for her obsequious clever nature, before Aslaug stood up from her seat and getting undressed to bath in the clear river waters before her eyes. "Skuld!" Skadi called beckoning for her daughter to come, Skuld came to a halt from playing with Aslaug's dog to now finding herself running to her mother, hearing the cute giggles as she looked up seeing her mother who squatted down before her at eye level with her daughter, "While our princess bathes would you mind going out into the forest grabbing some black crowberry & red raspberry, knowing how you love when mommy fixes that sweet treat she always makes for you?", Hearing the words she was hearing her eyes lit up nodding in excitement as a brown linen pouch fell into Skulds hand before Skadi sends her off trusting in her daughter that she knows how to get back in safe arms.

Skulds now with instructions in the forest to find the berries she needs grabbing a handful before hearing upon her ears as she hears twigs snapping from a distance before she knew it that's when she turned around seeing upon her a man, whose eyes glittered like the oceans, when her visions started as her journey as a völva became to be...

[undiscovered-horizon]

"A hammer and an anvil" - Hvitserk x Reader

<I just wrote the dialogue, liked it a lot and wanted to make it into something ok? T_T>

SUMMARY: You're the daughter of a foreign jarl who hasn't chosen sides in the war of young Lothbroks. Neither can you. The consequences would be far-reaching and dire. However, your will is not as strong as your father's and should Hvitserk ask, you know the guilt will not stop you from being by his side. The question is: will he?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1k

People call that arrangement by different names: between the Devil and the deep sea, between a hammer and an anvil or between a rock and a hard place. No matter where the point actually is, Hvitserk is there. And it shows.

Has he made the right choice siding with Ivar? Was the choice ever his to make? What if Ivar, desiring your father's great army, whispered a few sweet words into your beloved's ear?

You're watching him stare at the ceiling in your hut. For the first time since you've met him, Hvitserk's eyes are vacant. Normally shining with mischief and his merry persona, now they're empty. Dead. He starts to feel like somebody else.

Hvitserk's fingers are slowly dragging against your skin, painting patterns with no rhythm or merit. Truthfully, he seems to be oblivious to his little habit.

Examining his profile, you can see your shield in the corner of your eye. The green paint on it is supposed to symbolise vitality and greed but now, considering the consequence of the days to come, it's the colour of grief and fear. Behind the shield is hidden your sword, freshly sharpened. Hvitserk was eager to do it for you and at first, you thought it was just him doing something for you like he always does, but now, watching his chest rise and fall in ragged breaths, you're beginning to think he just wanted to have something to do. Some way to occupy his busy mind.

The inside of your home is warm - the countless furs and burning fire. Despite that, your body feels cold as though the dread residing in the pit of your stomach is already pulling you towards your grave. Whether literal or figurative, you're not quite sure.

"Can you promise me something?" you whisper. The sound of your voice is quiet enough to almost be drowned out by the cracking firewood.

But Hvitserk heard you. He listened. Like he always does.

He tilts his head to look at you. Your noses are maybe an inch apart. His lips are curved into a smile but the sad, blank look in his eyes has stayed; his freight is arrogant enough to make itself at home inside his mind.

"Anything you want, love," Hvitserk whispers back. His breath is warm on your cold cheeks. It smells slightly sour like dry wine.

"Do not ask me to join the battle. Do not ask me to fight your brothers." You swallow your tears. The love you hold for him would not only make you defy your father but carelessly start a chain of horrid events that not even Kattegat's Seer could completely envision. Knowing your own weakness, you have to trust that maybe Hvitserk can save you from yourself. "Because I would." A bitter scoff escapes your throat. "Gods know I would do terrible things if you asked me to."

Hvitserk appears unmoved by your confession. His smile grows unnoticeably wider as his palm rests on the side of your face. A stray tear, slowly rolling down your cheek, is swept away by a gentle brush of his thumb.

"But I won't." His tone is decisive. "I don't have to heart to do so."

Instead of staring at the wooden ceiling, Hvitserk is now watching your face. The same strangely vacant and yet intense look haunts his eyes. Something akin to determination shows in his expression as though the answer to his plight is written on your face in a language he can almost decipher. If he stays up all night, looking at you, maybe by the first light of dawn, he will know exactly what he's supposed to do.

"Tell me you'll come back," you interrupt the silence once again.

Both of you know he can't say it with certainty. Nevertheless, lovers tend to believe they can somehow enchant reality.

"Of course I will," Hvitserk says with conviction. He almost makes you believe there is no other option. "Dying in battle and seeing my father in Valhalla is something I'm dreaming of but if living means I get to see you one more time, I will cling to life like a man gone mad."

Although you know his poetics through and through, they never fail to make your heart flutter. Judging by Hvitserk's stubbornness in saying them, he knows the effect he has on you and enjoys it greatly. His usual humour and charming demeanour fool you for a moment that nothing of great importance is about to happen. It's just another night like many you've had with him and are going to have.

"You speak in such a beautiful way, I often wonder if your words are honest."

His hand moves from the side of your face to cradle the nape of your neck. Hvitserk pulls you in gently and kisses you in an equally tender manner. His lips linger against yours, it's almost sentimental.

"They sound beautiful only because they are honest," he tells you. This time his kiss is more intense. "How else am I supposed to speak to a beautiful woman if not with beautiful words?"

Your giggling breaks the kiss. For a moment, you swear you could hear his low chuckle; for a moment, the world was just right.

Hvitserk's eyes aren't blank anymore. Now, there's a turmoil of happiness and sadness inside them. If a kiss is what brought him back to life then maybe he wasn't simply being charming when he compared you to a goddess countless times.

A playful smile creeps onto your face. Gently, you drag your fingers against his chest. Hvitserk inhales sharply.

"Well, I've heard beautiful women also like crude, dirty words."

"Do they?" he asks with faux surprise. Hvitserk pushes you on your back and puts his weight on top of you. His warm hand is brushing against your bare thigh. "Tell me more," he murmurs against the soft skin of your neck.

[literaryuppsala]

Hvitserk and His Princess

Notes: This is a part II for hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven) and I wasn't thinking of making a part II but since i've been asked so nicely to do It, here I am. Took me long enough to finish cause I was in the middle of something, adult life getting in my writer's way, I'm sorry about that. It's not over but I'm back. Thank you for your patience and please, don't stop sending asks, i'll answer to all of them.

for the beautiful nikaprincessofkattegat and alyssalucas8 who asked for the part II in the comments.

Warnings: no smut, but still +18 with a little violence in it.

One day, almost a lifetime ago, you asked Hvitserk If he would make you happy and he promised you that was the only thing he would do. Back then you only believed in duty, in doing what was expected from you, that’s why you ended up in Kattegat in the first place, happiness was a dream you once had as a child, not something you imagined would be part of your life. But as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your swollen frame you were immediately filled with a warm feeling, something you could only take as true happiness.

You leaned against the body behind you and felt his hands rubbing against your tiny bump, pressing you against his chest while spreading kisses all over your shoulder and neck, you smiled to yourself letting your body be surrounded by his presence, his scent and the sense of safety he brought to you, making you sigh. 

“You missed me.” He whispered into your ear. 

“I did. Very much.” You joked. “But you missed me more.”

“You are absolutely right.” He said, turning you between his arms and making you look at him. “How are my girls doing?”

“You are terribly sure it’s a girl.” You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What If it’s a boy? Will you love him the same?”

“Stupid question, I love him already.” He pulled you in and kissed you quickly. 

The days around Hvitserk were easy to live, he would never leave you alone, always checking on you, checking if you were feeling alright. And since you found out you were with child he became more clingy, his hands always on your body, especially on your bump. He would rub and kiss the skin, if he could, he would keep you naked all the time so he could keep an eye on both of his girls. 

“How was the meeting with your brothers?” You asked, still attached to his body. 

“Boring.” He whispered back, kissing you again, but something changed in his demeanor, at the mention of his brothers he stirred. 

“You have something to tell me.” You insisted, moving away from his insistent kisses. 

“Is there anything I can hide from you?” He asked with a frown, hands traveling down your body to hold a firm grip on your hips, you denied.

“You’re trying to distract me.” You said with a pout and he sighed. 

“Bjorn is going to Frankia. He asked me to go with him.”

Your face contorted immediately and you tried to let go of him, but he didn’t let you, keeping you between his arms. You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“I suppose you didn’t like It.” He told you with a smirk.

“I don’t want you to lose the birth of your child.” You answered angrily.

“I know. But he’s my brother and he needs me.” 

“What about Sigurd and Ubbe? What about Ivar?” 

“We’re all going.” He pressed his hands on your hips, pulling you in a little more. “We’re going to see Rollo.”

“Does he need all of you to do that?” 

“It’s expected from the sons of Ragnar to rule together, even though Bjorn is the king.”

“I don’t agree.” 

He hugged you and eventually you corresponded, hugging him back, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. He kissed the crown of your head several times, pulling you tight. 

“Is It dangerous?”

“No, It’s just talking.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Come back to me.”

“I will.” 

He left on a sunny day, you waited in the pier until the boat vanished on the horizon and everyone else was already gone, you looked away without knowing what you were really expecting, for him to change his mind and come back already or for the time to pass quickly, but not too quickly, not enough for your baby to be born without his father around. 

“He won’t be here.” Her voice startled you and you looked behind to find Margrethe looking straight at you with a mid smirk. 

You didn’t answer, walking away from her while she kept repeating and yelling ‘he won’t be here’. 

‘Crazy Margrethe’ was her name now, and since Ubbe finally left her, Hvitserk was the only one who still had a soft spot for her, found her a house outside of town and would go check on her every now and then. You wished you’d feel sorry for her, but she never changed her attitude towards you, in fact It only got worse with time. Your husband would tell you to brush It off and forget about It, but she got particularly mean since you got pregnant using every opportunity she had to hurt you. 

Ubbe was now married to Torvi who separated from Bjorn when he married Gunnhild. It was confusing at first, but after so much time with them you learned that they would do anything they wanted. Ivar and Freydis finally had their child, named him Baldur. Torvi and Ubbe were expecting their first child while Hali and Asa grew stronger each day. You learned to love them as your own family, cared for them and felt protected with them, but when It came to Margrethe they couldn’t do much. 

“Leave me alone.” You mumbled, walking away faster but listening to her footsteps following you. 

“He won’t be here.” She repeated and you grunted, entering the great hall to find Torvi and Freydis inside, they quickly noticed your presence and came to you. 

Raising your hand you held Torvi’s and let the woman bring you close, she hugged you while Freydis stepped in front of you both. 

“Go home Margrethe.” Freydis warned, startling little Baldur in her arms who immediately started to cry. 

“This is my home!” She walked inside. 

“Not anymore.” Torvi said, quickly pushing you behind her. 

“You stole my family, you stole my husband, you’re a witch!” She ran towards you but was stopped in her tracks by one of Gunnhild’s men, who held her and prevented her from getting close. 

“Take her to her house.” Gunnhild’s voice came from behind you, making the three of you look back. “Make sure she won’t leave for a while.” 

She was taken out screaming and trashing while Torvi turned to you, holding your face between her hands while silently checking on you.

“I’m alright.” You reassured, holding her hands that were still on your face. “I’m alright, Torvi.” You repeated. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” Gunnhild tried to comfort you. 

“I’ll talk to Ivar.” Freydis grunted, sitting back where she was while leaving Baldur sitting at her feet, playing with a few toys. “When he comes back, I’ll talk to him.”

“The solution will be to kill her.” You sighed, sitting next to Freydis. 

“Exactly. Is that a problem?” She frowned.

“Hvitserk would never forgive me If I agreed with that.”

“You deal with Margrethe everyday, this isn’t right.” Freydis insisted. “And you’re pregnant, your child should be his priority, not her.” 

“We are his priority. But he cares for her too… And I don’t want her to die either…” 

“You’re just like him. Ivar would never allow this to happen, nor with me nor with Baldur. Hvitserk should end this.” 

You kept thinking about what Freydis said, slightly angry about how she was so certain Ivar would kill Margrethe for her and about how this sounded so appealing to you. You didn’t want to deal with her craziness anymore, but did you want her death? You weren’t sure, there was a battle going on inside you between this part of you and the one who respected your husband’s wishes. 

The time was passing, months were passing, your tiny bump grew bigger everyday and so did your anxiety about Hvitserk not coming back in time to watch your baby’s birth. One night, as the lightning cut through the sky the silver light illuminated your whole house and you were awake by the sound of thunder. It was a hard storm, you could hear the thick raindrops against your ceiling and the whistle of the wind through the cracks of your walls. The first ounce of pain made you grunt and you shrunk into yourself like a wounded animal.

“No, no, no, not now.” You mumbled to yourself. 

You sat against the headboard and looked around. You were alone in your house, against everyone’s wishes. They begged you to stay with them since you were in the final stages of your pregnancy but you couldn’t accept the fact that you would give birth while Hvitserk was away, you wanted to believe you still had time. The first tears flooded the corner of your eyes and left wet trails on your cheeks on their way down your face, you felt hopeless. 

“God, help me.” You prayed for the first time since you married, embarrassed to even ask for His help after so much time. “Please help my child.” 

Like an answer to your prayers you heard footsteps outside your house, for a moment you felt happy, imagining to be someone to help you, but as Margrethe’s face showed up on your window you, another painful contraction hit you hard making you grunt. 

“Told you he wouldn’t be here.” She growled, another lightning illuminated her face showing you a victorious smirk as she looked at you. 

“Leave me alone.” You sighed, using your strength to get up and walk towards the door. 

As you opened, her body showed up in front of you holding your shoulders and pushing you inside, making you lose balance and fall behind. You widened your eyes, looking at her. 

“You can’t do this.” You murmured, holding your bump protectively.

“You stole my family. You don’t deserve to have your own.” She growled again, walking towards you as you crawled back. 

“Hvitserk will never forgive you.” You insisted. “If you do something to his child, he won’t forgive you.” 

“We can have many children of our own.” 

“But this one…He wants this one!” You felt your back against the wall and she crouched in front of you, her hands grabbed your knees and closed your legs.

“You won’t have this child.” 

“Get off me!” You tried to get rid of her hands but she kept holding you firmly. 

“You won’t have this child!” She repeated and you cried loudly, another contraction spreaded the pain from your belly to your lower back and to your legs. 

“Please, don’t do this.” You murmured. 

“Why would the gods bless you so much and leave me nothing?” She asked angrily, still keeping your legs shut. “Why do you deserve happiness more than me?”

“Keep the child!” You yelled through the storm. “Raise him as your own If you must, do to me as you will, but keep the child!” 

“I would never keep this child. I can have many children of my own!” 

“Please! He will hate you…” You gasped. “Hvitserk will hate you forever.”

“He’ll forget all about you and this child. Eventually.” 

Your screams mixed with the noise outside your house and one more time you looked around, helpless, that’s when you saw one of the many pots you had around the house. You quickly grabbed one of them and hit it against Margrethe’s head who fell dizzy to the side. You took this opportunity to try and crawl away from your house, using all your strength to get up and leave. You stumbled through the storm, trying to walk as fast as you could towards the great hall, while protectively holding your bump. Eventually, Margrethe, who left the house right behind you, reached you and jumped your body, both of you falling over the muddy ground. 

“Help!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Somebody, help!” 

“Shut your mouth. You witch! You’re a witch!” She screamed back, holding you down and trying to crawl up on your body. 

Another lightning cut through the sky as you felt someone lift her from the top of you. You widened your eyes and raised your head to see her body being dragged away from you. The rain clouded your vision and before you knew it, another person grabbed you by your arms. 

“Let’s go!” You heard a scream and looked at the person holding you. Torvi. 

“She was trying to kill me…” You mumbled, leaning against her body. 

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.” She took you inside and helped you get comfortable on the bed, the furs around you got immediately damp. 

“Save my child, save me child.” You babbled, holding onto Torvi’s arms, dizzy by the pain. 

“We’ll save both of you!” She mumbled before turning to the door.

You were scared, hair glued to your wet face, clothes damp attached to your skin. Freydis came in and sat behind you using her own body to support yours. Torvi grabbed your knees and held your legs opened, you cried louder when the pain hit you again. 

“Freydis…” You grunted as you felt her hand on your damp forehead. 

“Alright, time to push.” She warned. 

“I c-can’t.” You mumbled feeling exhausted.

“You can. You will. Push.” She insisted, helping you, slightly pushing your body forward. “Go. Push.” 

You used the rest of your body strength to keep pushing, while Freydis helped you doing the same with your back, pushing your body forward. Your chest was aching with the amount of pressure on your body, your heart was beating so loud you could listen to it inside of your head, you felt like your body was almost separating in two. You cried, loudly. 

“I CAN’T DO THS!” You screamed in agony.

“You have to!” Torvi insisted, touching your belly to teu and feel the child. “Push!”

Freydis pressed your body and you growled, pushing forward. 

“Let’s go princess, you’re stronger than you think.” She insisted, pushing you forward one more time. 

Torvi grabbed your knees keeping your legs opened, mumbling small prayers while you cried in pain and grunted as you pushed again and again and again until you did it one more time, with all your strength and you could finally hear the first cry filling your ears. 

“That’s It. She’s here! She’s here!” You heard an excited Torvi and your heart almost stopped when you learned it was a girl. 

Freydis hand rested on your chest as she happily praised you, her voice was the last thing you heard bafore everything went completely dark. 

When you woke up again it was already morning, the storm was gone but so was everybody, you were alone. You sat up with the help of your hands but your throat was dry, you couldn’t call for anyone. You felt overwhelmed, your heart started to hammer inside your chest, for the first time in your life you were terrified to be alone, to be without your daughter.

But before you broke down in tears you heard footsteps outside the room, when the door opened Torvi showed up, the small bundle of furs inside her arms and you immediately smiled, leaning against the headboard and leaving a small space for her to sit by your side, when she did, she was smiling too, carefully handing you the baby. 

“She is perfect.” Torvi mumbled.

And she was. You carefully held her tiny hand, kissing while counting her fingers, you rubbed her face and payed attention to every detail, her pointy nose, heart shaped lips and small eyes, beautifully gray. You checked her belly, her legs and her feet, counting her toes just like you did with her fingers. 

“He said It was a girl.” You murmured, still looking at your daughter. 

“He was right.” 

Torvi touched your face and you looked at her, the pain finally showing in your eyes. 

“He lost it. He promised he would be here, but he isn’t.” You started. “She was right.” 

“Don’t do that.” She scolded. “It doesn’t matter what she said, your daughter is here, she’s safe and so are you. Hvitserk will be here, but you can’t think about him now, you have to think about her, and yourself.”

“What happened to her?”

“She ran away.” 

That was the only answer you got, eventually you stopped asking. The first year of your daughter was an adjustment, your heart still waiting for him, but you learned very quickly you had more important things to deal with. Torvi helped you name her: Sif and she grew strong, a mini-Hvitserk with green eyes, thin lips and light brown hair. Looking at her helped you in some way, she reminded you of him, of how much you missed him, and how much you loved him, so deep that it materialized on that tiny human. 

A while ago, you heard from a few people in town that they’d be calling you both ‘Hvitserk and his princess’ and you smiled like a fool every time you thought about It, you were his. 

“Mama!” She screamed with a laugh, running around the great hall with Baldur chasing her. 

You looked at them and smiled, waving at her, your eyes traveled around, from your daughter, to the walls, to the fire flames that kept the place warm. You blinked tired, It was getting late. 

“Sweetheart, let’s go.” You called, getting up and walking towards your daughter. 

“Stay here tonight.” Gunnhild showed up, asking you calmly. “It’s too cold to walk home with her.”

“I’ll be living here with you If we stay like this.”

“Why not? Torvi and Freydis are already here, you are welcome to stay too.” 

“Thank you, but I like my home. It reminds me of him.” Sif ran to you and held the skirt of your dress. “We’ll be here in the morning.” You cradled her in your arms. “Say ‘bye bye’.” You murmured, kissing her chubby cheeks when she waved. 

“Bye bye.” She repeated with a smile. 

You eventually left, walking back home with your baby in your arms while she babbled about her day with Baldur, the things he showed her. Your eyes followed the path towards the pier and you sighed, stopping in your tracks to watch from afar, imagining his boat docking at any time. You missed him, you missed him so much. 

“Father.” She whispered, pointing at the pier.

“Yeah, that’s where he’s coming from.” You smiled at her and kissed her again. 

She didn’t know him but you spent a lot of time talking to her about her father, telling stories, telling her how much he loved her and how much he wanted her, even before she was born.

“Father.” She repeated and you smiled again, this time you looked back at the pier just to find a boat approaching.

Your eyes widened and you froze. It couldn’t be. You lost hope so many years ago you couldn’t believe your eyes. You put her on the ground and held her hand firmly, ready to come back running to the great hall. 

The people started to leave the boat. Dark silhouettes poorly illuminated by the full moon in the sky. You covered your mouth with your hand and turned around, you were about to start running when a deeply familiar voice called your name through the night. You stopped on your tracks and turned again. He repeated. And shouted loudly while running towards you.

When his arms wrapped around your body you froze again, in utter shock. He pulled you in, held your face against his shoulders but your only movement was to tight the grip around your daughter’s hand. 

“My love.” He mumbled, holding your face in his hands and staring directly into your eyes. Your vision was blurred but it focused on his face eventually. His voice was a sizzle from afar, unintelligible, his touch had a strange familiarity that scared you at first. “It’s me, look at me.” He begged in panic, but the one thing to wake you up was your daughter’s voice.

“MAMA!” She screamed and you blinked, looking down to her scared little face. “No hurt mama!” She insisted, using her hands to push him to the side, that’s when he finally left you and crouched in front of her.

When you looked at him there were tears in his eyes, he looked at her with adoration and she held onto the skirt of your dress. He looked up and you finally felt the true happiness you missed so much, you felt the tears coating your face and you sighed in relief, with a smile on your face you told him:

“Sif. Her name is Sif.” 

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Hvitserk Being Gentle With You Would Include...

-Hvitserk is a very gentle person when it comes to you, He loves you so much and he just would not want him to do anything to harm you like ever.

-He hates the idea of him being overly rough with you and then hurting you by accident.

-He will do anything in his power to make sure that you are safe no matter where you are,

-He is the type of man that will make sure there is a person to make sure you are safe with you at all times. He would prefer him being with you but that cannot happen all the time.

-He is always making sure that you are comfortable, and he is not hurting you whenever you both are cuddling or even during other times.

-He will want you to sleep in the same bed as him so that he can make sure that you are safe. He will of course be gentle with you whenever he is cuddling with you.

[bjornswoman]

Lies

Pairing: Modern!Hvitserk x Fem!Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, series, drama, angst, romance, smut, fluff.

Summary: After your breakup with Hvitserk he leaves for England without knowing about a matter. A child in fact. Years after he comes back, invading your life and all the lies come to the surface.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, strong language, jealousy, mentions of pregnancy, lies, a lot of drama.

Note:

This series are based on a turkish TV series called You Knock on My Door (Sen Çal Kapımı) and it contains some stuff from there.

This is a remake of the first two parts of the same series which I wrote some time ago. You can find the first two parts here.

Also, I want to inform you that the new parts and the next ones will be quite different from the first ones.

Chapters:

Prologue

Part I