#ivar's week

[happywebdesign]

Mindbloom

[wilmon-forever]

seriously y’all, I don’t think we get to talk enough about how hard August betrayed Wilhelm. 

firstly, how could he after everything they’d lived?

c’mon, when Wilhelm arrived at Hillerska he was expecting to find a second cousin who was truly a cousin. 

we all know that August has a very problematic personality and annoying behavior, but Wille probably expected that they could be friends (maybe brothers?), especially after Erik’s passing. 

...at that moment in specific, both had lost important people, August lost his father too soon and guess what? Wilhelm lost his brother too! two lives were abruptly interrupted causing so much pain to those who stayed. Wilhelm and August shared the fact that their people died. in ep. 4, after the society’s party outside they talked, peed together (yes), they screamed... at that point, Wille thought he could trust him with his life. 

in ep. 6, however, after HE leaked the tape August said to his cousin, who was 100% lost:

“I think that Erik would have wanted you to be yourself. Really. You know, follow your heart.” What. the. f***. Snake. You’re evil, August.

“jealousy got the best of him” I know, but that’s no excuse to act like that. he was brutally unfair.

what August did, he did on purpose, as we can see when (after he said those beautiful words to Wille) Sara goes to his room and they have this conversation:

Sara: Why did you do that?

August: I don’t even know myself. It... It just happened.

Sara: I thought you and Wilhelm were friends. ( SAME!!!  WE ALL THOUGHT, SARA)

August: Yeah. True. 

Sara: Yeah? So why?

August: Wilhem has everything! And he just spits on it. ( WHAT???!!) I’ve tried to help him several times, but... ( HOW??? BY BEING AN A**HOLE?!) 

anyways, he goes on by saying that Wilhelm doesn’t care about his role, he’s an embarrassment to the whole royal family and Erik was better etc etc. all in all, guys.. what August did - he meant that.

man, what happened to “Once a brother, always a brother”??!!

but y’know? Sara was right when she said “that doesn’t give you the right”. correct, Sara. that’s why I’m with His Highness Prince Wilhelm of Sweden. 

now, August has to pay. 

and he will.

[ps: NO! I don't want August to get injured or shot. that's not my point. but Wille has to stand up for himself and for what is right, and he will.]

[soon-palestine]

The war in Gaza isn't just about Palestinian rights; it's about the very nature of the world we live in. Last week, I wrote this piece (link below), reflecting on earlier writings by scholars about how Gaza has become a model for making entire populations rightless and justifying their exclusion from life, taking away their dignity, and using tools of explicit and implicit violence and surveillance to kill and discipline them when they rebel against these conditions.

So, when Gaza says NO to all these things, it's not just defending itself and the Palestinian cause; it's also protecting the world from normalizing policies that make people unworthy of life and dignity just because they belong to the "wrong" ethnic, religious, or class group. When this battle is over, you'll thank Gaza for stopping dangerous precedents from being set and established, and for asserting that people cannot be killed, erased, and destroyed by the more privileged.

[milkb0nny]

The Aftermath of Intimacy

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 9: Aftermath

Summary: The shared moments after your intimate hours always were your favorite. His aftercare and love embraced you in Ivar's vulnerability. You loved it so much.

Note: Aftermath, but not violent. I thought of throwing in a different vibe after the rather sad 8th day. This one is sadly very short due to my very stressful week. Life was too much to handle this day, but I managed to create a very comforting prompt. Enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: aftercare, mentions of smut, slight nsfw

word count: 595

Ivar descended, lowering himself onto your body, his head coming to rest upon your chest. His breaths were deep and ragged and he was exhausted from the intimate moments you both shared before. Your hand traced soothing patterns up and down his spine, you enjoyed his weight on your body. The two of you were a sweaty mess, relieved yet exhausted. The air hung heavy with a heady mixture of shared desire and the intoxicating scent of your entwined bodies.

Both of you lay in the aftermath, a sweaty and tangled tableau of passion. Ivar’s heart pounded so strongly you felt his heartbeat on your lower stomach. It was a moment of vulnerability and closeness - a bridge between the raw intensity of your lovemaking and the quiet tenderness that followed.

Ivar, panting and visibly tired, slowly began to lift himself from your body, his blue eyes glancing at your smile. He reassured himself that you were okay, not hurting and alright. Soon his expression softened to a tender smile, as he dragged himself off of you. The room was filled with a gentle hush as Ivar, still catching his breath, shifted to rest beside you.

His fringes gently brushed against your face, an act of adoration. In times like these his anger vanished from the earth. No one else but you knew of his loving side, where not a single madness tormented him.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. His questions was simple, but in that moment, they carried a weight of sincerity. Your eyes avoided his blue focus, looking down on his body. You rolled over, getting closer to his body.

Your voice hummed, “Yeah, Ivar.”

In this private sanctuary, away from the chaos of the outside world, he allowed himself to be not a warrior but a companion in the aftermath of shared intimacy. Leaning in, Ivar pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

His kisses after your shared intimacy were your favorite. His care and love flowed through your whole body, telling you how much he admired you. As Ivar deepened the kiss, the warmth of his embrace enveloped you. His arms dragged you closer you, pulling you on his warm body. Breaking the kiss, Ivar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or unspoken need. He didn’t want you to hurt, feel used or being scared.

“Trust me, I feel good,” you reassured him, whispering these words in his ears.

The man you shared your bed with hugged you, petting your head. His voice once again filled the room. “I worry that I am too rough with you, my love,” he admitted, looking down at you and meeting your sparkling eyes. Once again you reminded him of your angelic presence, of your strength and love.

You chuckled, kissing his collarbone as a response. Your touch comforted him and his body relaxed further, not needing to worry about your potential discomfort. Suddenly you shifted, sliding off of his body and slowly standing up. You covered yourselves in a long garment.

“I’ll get us something to drink and eat. Do you want something special, my great warrior?”

Ivar’s eyes lightened up, he nodded and smiled. Your pure, naked body in that see through garment charmed him, so much he almost wanted to drag you back into the bed.

Though, your sweetness was too kind and the young Ragnarsson wanted to feel loved and admired.

“Ale, and you as a dessert,” he replied to meet your chuckling laughter.

[miss-madness67]

Mother Knows Best (Ivar)

Prompt: My arranged marriage with Ivar the Boneless was not a surprise. The surprise had been finding out he did not want to lay with me. Are the rumors of his incapabilities true? Is sex the answer to learn to love each other? I do not know. He scares me, but he is no less fascinating. That is why I decided to give him a chance. Slight AU. Ragnar does not die, neither does Aslaug. They rule side by side and decide to ally themselves with the Saxons.

Mother looks at me across the table. Her eyes are expectant, her expression unamused. She waits for me to say something; to tell her that I am already with child. But because I am not, I remain quiet.

“I would like to know my grandchild, preferably,” she says, “but it would be nice if at least I know you are with child before you leave Wessex.” She gives me a hard stare. Oh, I know she would like that, that’s the reason she has given me plenty of recommendations on how to please my husband in bed. Not that I have applied them.

A month ago, I was given the news that I was to be wed to the youngest of King Ragnar’s sons. A man I hadn’t even met and whose ruthlessness was well known. It was a political marriage. Arranged so our kingdoms would become friends instead of foes. My grandfather, King Ecbert, wanted to have a good relationship with the heathens, so he promised my hand for peace. I always knew I would be married for the good of my kingdom and not love, but that does not mean the news was less disappointing.

The wedding took place two weeks ago, right after the arrival of the Vikings. And as I approached the altar, that was the first time I laid eyes on my husband. His cold demeanor rendered me speechless, but his hard blue-eyed stare sent shivers down my spine. He was sitting on a chair waiting for me. I knew his legs were useless, so that did not surprise me. I tried not to stare during the ceremony but failed miserably. He had looked at me annoyed yet intrigued.

My father, Prince Aethelwulf, was displeased with the marriage, but he had little to no say in the matter. My mother Judith, even though she was in favor of the union, she did not agree with the choice of groom. She thought Ubbe or Sigurd would have been better candidates. King Ragnar himself had chosen Ivar, and my grandfather had agreed with the promise that he would be able to provide children. His ability to lay with a woman had many rumors, but King Ragnar had assured that Ivar was no less of a man in that matter. Not that I would know, because I had yet to lay with him.

The night of our wedding, the bedding ceremony had been canceled due to the Viking’s request. So when I entered the chambers, there was no pressure in laying with him. Yet, I expected he would have wanted me to because he is a man. That had not been the case. That night, we laid side by side in silence until the sun raised. Back then I had been grateful because I did not want to sleep with a man I barely knew, but now I have begun to question myself. Does he not find me attractive? Does he know how to lay with a woman? Is he really not physically able? Does he prefer men?

It is necessary for us to have a child in order to fortify the alliance. That is why my mother had given me tips to please him. I had yet to use them, I feared to do so. In all honesty, I had been afraid of my husband when I first heard of him, and during our wedding. I have heard how he is and I have seen how he treats people. However, that fear has receded ever since. These past two weeks he has been nothing but kind to me, even a little shy. That’s probably the reason why I have started to feel attraction towards him. That and his sharp mind. At first, I did not know how to speak his language. He has been slowly teaching me. And I have seen him playing chess with Alfred, it is honestly fascinating.

“It would be wise for your marriage if you have passion in the bedroom, darling,” my mother says.

I know she means good, and I know she is probably right, but I have to bite my tongue from mentioning her passion with my grandfather. Her marriage with my father is a mere paper. I do not wish my marriage with Ivar to be the same, despite the circumstances. But she does have a point, she has a very good relationship with my grandfather, whom she beds. Sex must be the answer to get closer to Ivar. And maybe, with time, we could learn to love each other. That is a foolish thought, but it is what motivates me to wait naked in bed. He arrives at the dormitory shortly after twelve. He has been drinking with his brothers, but all the inebriation leaves him once he sees me.

“Hello, my…” he does not like it when I call him titles, so I correct myself, “... Ivar. I have been waiting for you.” He does not say anything. Heat accumulates in my face. Does he not like what he sees? I fight the urge to cover myself and hide between the covers. His hands tighten around his crutches.

“What… What are you doing like that? What if someone other than me were to come in?” He questions, he seems angry at the idea, but his eyes do not leave my body.

“I made sure no one other than you were to come inside, my husband,” I whisper. Ivar must notice that I am not completely myself acting like this, because he looks away.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” He approaches the bed and sits down, his back to me. “I know this is an arranged marriage, we do not have to do anything that you do not want.” His voice is uninterested but his words are sweet. I hesitate.

“I know, but we are expected to bear children.” He tenses. He does not say anything, he starts to take off his leg braces. I wait patiently. The room is colder when he speaks.

“If that is what you wish this is unnecessary, you do not have to remove your camisole.” His voice is harsh and I know I said something I was not supposed to.

“It is not only about that,” I try to correct myself though my voice waivers in nervousness, “I wish… I wish for us to enjoy making children.” It is the most direct way for me to express my desire for him.

He stops what he is doing and turns around. He looks me in the eyes looking for uncertainty. I know he finds none when he drags his body towards me. His arms muscles flex and something knots in my belly. He looms over me with a hungry stare.

When he opens his mouth I think he is about to devour me but he speaks. “Do you not know the rumors? Do you not know what they say?” He does not wait for me to answer, “apparently, I can not please a woman, I can not give children, I am a useless husband.”

I do not hesitate to answer, “I do not listen to rumors, I like to verify for myself,” I put a hand on his chest and the other around his neck. “If it is false, then we shall prove them so, and if it is true, then we shall not give up until we try everything.” He looks doubtful, “I… have learned a few tricks that shall please my husband.”

His surprise is evident when he speaks, “well, I have also learned a few tricks that shall please my wife."

I smile, “then, let us learn from one another.” I do not have time to say anything else before his lips crash with mine.

It is uncertain if we will succeed this night or another, or if we will have children, or if we will learn to love each other. The only thing that I am certain of is that we care for one another. At this moment, in my husband’s arms, I feel like never before.

[barnes-lothbrok]

Little Love (Tattoos II)

Ivar x Reader

Summary- Ivar admires his pregnant wife sleeping.

Warnings- fluff, mentions of pregnancy and being pregnant

Word count- 1k

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Ivar ran his hand over his face as he slowly limped down the hall, leaning heavily on his crutch.

It had been a long day of duties, from listening to villagers worries and woes to planning for the coming summer raids. All he wished was to cuddle beside his wife who he'd missed deeply throughout the day.

You were normally by his side through it all but over the past few weeks you had been condemned to bedrest on the healers orders.

He paused as he got to the doorway of your bedroom, admiring the view before him. He never understood how you could sleep in such contorted ways.

As the fire in heath lit the room, you laid with your head buried in his pillows while the furs meant to keep you warm were tossed in a bundle beside you. Your night dress had risen up to expose your legs and tattooed thigh.

It had been a year and he still adored the sight of the ink on your skin. His innocent Francia princess turned Viking queen.

He moved towards the bed making as little sound as possible but from the soft snores it was clear you were in deep sleep. You hated when he told you, you snored but he found it adorable, although he never brought it up again as it earned him silence treatment for a few hours until he made you laugh about something.

Gently he perched himself on the edge of the bed, removing his shirt before carefully trying to remove his braces, something you had always done but he wished not to wake you.

He swore under his breath as he struggled before jumping slightly as you moved behind him. Slowly looking over his shoulder, he found you'd shifted towards him, like a magnet in your sleep.

Smiling, he gently tucked some stray hairs behind your ear and cupped your cheek as you hummed. You made little noises at him as if you were trying to talk to him but the capture of sleep was stopping you. Another thing you hated but he found heartwarming.

His eyes travelled down your body, taking in everything little detail from the freckle on your shoulder to the ink on your thigh down to your toes. He still couldn't believe after all these years, you were his and he was yours.

With a small smirk he lightly trailed a finger up your leg and traced the design on your thigh. He watched as your toes wiggled before tiptoeing his fingers up your hip.

His hand rested there a moment as he watched you shift more onto your back, relieving the swell of your stomach.

Ivar's eyes lit up as he felt tiny movements against his palm while he placed his hand gently on the bump.

"Hello, my little love" He whispered as he leaned down beside you, braces forgotten for the moment.

His thumb caressed your stomach over the fabric of your night dress, his face in a beaming smile as the movements continued. He was lost in a world of bless until you suddenly gasped and bolted up.

"My love?" Concern flooded his features as he watched you hold your side, eyes scrunched tightly. He had moved his hand away quickly as if his touch had burnt you.

You shook your head, getting your breath back before replying.

"It's ok mon coeur. Just a hard kick to the ribs" you sighed softly, kneading the dull pain in your side.

"Did I cause that?" He asked, still nervous to touch you again for fear of causing harm.

"No, I believe he was just excited to hear his father" you gave him a gentle smile took his hand in yours "you did nothing wrong"

"That was a kick?" He frowned "I thought the small movements were kicks?"

"In the beginning but he is growing stronger and bigger everyday" You felt were his hand had been before laughing slightly "I think that he was wiggling his arse"

"Oh" Ivar said softly, casting his eyes down before looking up at you as you placed his hand back and yours on his cheek, stroking his cheek bone.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you smiled gently "we are both ok, the kicks means he's healthy"

Ivar hummed as he moved to kiss you before breaking away as he felt a few kicks on his palm. His eyes widened as he checked if it hurt you before smiling down.

Ever since you told Ivar, he was to be a father, he had worried non stop about the health of the baby and yourself. The fear was justified as there was a small chance the baby could be like him and over the years of trying for an heir things hadn't been smooth.

After no success in the first couple of years, you decided to stop trying, if was meant to happen, it would. Over time you both believe it wasn't meant to be and were content with each other, this pregnancy was a shock but a happy one.

He shifted to place his head on your stomach while you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Little love, I know you are showing us what a strong warrior you will be but let's make a pact to be gentle on your beautiful mother" He murmured as he caressed your bump and earned a few softer kicks back.

"Oh Ivar" you smiled down at him, tears in your eyes.

He glanced up at you and smirked "Excuse me, I'm having words with my little love, my love" He teased dismissively, "this is not for you, go back to sleep"

You laughed and shook your head at him before you relaxed onto the pillows once more, listening to Ivar as you closed your eyes and played with his hair.

"I know your mother refers to you as he. Something about mothers instinct but just know my little love, we will love you whatever you are. You just focus on staying healthy and strong" He whispered as your hand slowed in his hair "we can't wait to meet you, I have so many things to show and teach you"

He glanced up at you again, noticing that you had fallen back to sleep."First lesson, always look after your mother, right now she is trying to sleep and stay strong for you. Go to sleep too, little love"

[mickeyswhore]

Complicated Arrangement

A/N: Someone stop me from writing for Thomas Shelby, lol.

Summary: You are Thomas Shelby's sugar baby, you fell in love with him and now you're in trouble.

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: daddy kink, smut, use of Y/N (but only twice), modern!Thomas Shelby.

Tag: @mrkdvidal1989.

You had everything you ever wanted, money, gifts, a great apartment, your grades were great, there was one problem, your heart. Thomas was pretty specific with you when he asked you to be his sugar baby, you could hear his voice saying it to you, every time you saw him sleeping, and every time he did something that made your heart swell.

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

You agreed, because you needed the money and you never thought that you could fall in love with Thomas Shelby, he was cold, distant, but none of that stopped you from loving him. Thomas insisted on having separate apartments, you thought it was a good thing, since you wanted your privacy. And now, you were hiding from him, and you weren’t supposed to do that, even if the both of you didn't meet in person, he insisted that you never kept anything from him, but how could you talk to him when you disobeyed his rule? It wasn’t like the times when you were bratty, just to have his attention, you would lose Tommy forever if you talked to him about that, so you were ghosting for a week.

Thomas was deeply concerned with your lack of news and updates, so he decided to stop by at your apartment, so he could see you, he was missing you like crazy, your voice, your soft skin, your whimpers and moans, everything about you intoxicating for him. He even considered the possibility of you finding someone else, but he was adamant with you, he did not share, especially you.

You were now at your apartment, studying for the finals, you were really stressed out, not because of the finals, but because of Thomas, you needed him, but you were scared that you were going to tell him everything, about your feelings. You heard a knock on the door, it was probably the delivery man, bringing your pizza. You opened the door, and you gasped, there was Thomas Shelby, looking as handsome as always, and with a hungry look on his face.

“You didn't called me, you didn't text me, what’s going on, Y/N?” You knew he wasn’t mad, just concerned, because he never called you by your name, only nicknames.

“It’s nothing, I’m really sorry, I should’ve called you, I’m just studying for the finals.” Thomas knew that was a lie, because he could read you like anyone else, and he knew that you were hiding something.

“That’s not it, there’s something else, tell me.” He smiled, and you signed, you couldn’t tell him.

“It’s nothing, I have to study.” You tried to shut the door, but he stopped you.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, baby?” He was using that voice, the voice that brought the submissive in you.

“No, Daddy. But I really need to study.” You said, and Thomas smirked.

“Good, because you’ve been a very bad girl, ignoring Daddy, you need to be punished, kitten.” He entered your apartment and sat on the couch, smirking the whole time.

“Go to the bedroom, and I want to see you laying in bed, naked, waiting for Daddy.” You nodded and went to the bedroom, despite being scared of telling him how you really feel, you needed him, more than anything.

You quickly took off your clothes and laid on the bed, waiting for Ivar, you were getting anxious, every minute felt like hours. Thomas opened the door, and sat on the bed, he was devouring you with his eyes, you could feel yourself aroused, just by his predatory gaze.

“What should I do with you? There’s so many possibilities, I could bring you to the edge over and over again, or I could make you cum until you pass out, or I could just tease you enough and then leave, so many things I can do to you, little one.” The whole time Tommy was caressing your body his hand, your thighs, your stomach, your arms.

“Please, don’t tease me, Daddy.” You whimpered, and Thomas stopped, he got close to your ear.

“But you need to be punished, kitten.” He whispered, and you bite your lip, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, I need you, Daddy.” He growled, you knew that he couldn’t resist you.

“Alright, kitten.” He sat next to you, and started to run his fingers in your thighs, slowly, you opened your legs to give him more access, making him chuckle.

“Such a good girl.” He praised, and licked the shell of your ear, making you whimper.

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me all the time, kitten.” You nodded and Thomas slapped your clit, lightly. “I need words, little one.” He kissed your neck and down to your collarbone.

“Yes, Daddy.” He seemed pleased with your response, and started to make small and slow circles on your clit, you gasped at the contact.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” His eyes were on you all the time, you couldn’t look away.

“Yes, it feels so good, Daddy.” Your breath was more erratic, Thomas loved seeing you like this.

“Do you want me to fuck this pretty little pussy of yours?” His movements on your clit were faster, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Yes, please fuck me with your fingers, Daddy.” He inserted two fingers inside you, his movements were fast, the only sounds in the room were your moans and the pornografic sounds that Thomas was drawing out of you.

“You’re so good to me, you’re gonna cum on my fingers?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath and his voice were all it took to bring you to the edge.

You came on his fingers, you grabbed his arm and squeezed.

“Do you want my cock, buried deep inside your pussy? Do you want that, kitten?” He took off his shirt, and he was unbuttoning his pants.

“Yes, fuck me, Daddy. Please.” You said, biting your lip, he growled.

“I’m gonna ruin you, baby.” He put his cock on your entrance, teasing you.

“Don’t tease, please.” You begged, and Thomas slammed his cock inside you, not giving you time to adjust to his size, his pace was brutal, animalistic, and you loved that.

“D-daddy.” You moaned, so lost in pleasure. You wrapped your legs around his waist, Thomas started to hit your g-spot repeatedly, you were getting close again.

“I’m so close, Daddy.” You whispered.

“Cum all over my cock, kitten.” He encouraged you, after a few more thrusts, you came again, and Thomas came right after you.

He cuddled with you, and he kept saying that you were amazing, whispering sweet nothings on your ear.

“Now you’re gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked, and tensed.

“I can’t, Tommy.” You tried to leave, but he didn't let you.

“Tell me, you can tell me anything, little one.” He encouraged you.

“Thomas, I love you.” You closed your eyes, you didn't want to see the disapproving look on his handsome face, when he didn't said anything, you turned around and saw him smiling.

“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” You frowned.

“What are you talking about?” He laughed, and kissed your hand.

“Baby, I fell in love with you, for a very long time, I just didn't have the guts to tell you.” You smiled at him. “Wait, is that the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” You nodded.

 “I love you, Y/N.” He kissed you, gently.

“I love you too, Tommy.” The both of you laughed.

[ninchen1909]

Side by Side

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: Death, angst, fluff, best friends to lovers

Word count: ~2.800

 "Ivar, please think straight now. You cannot sail with Ragnar, you will die, he is no longer the great king everyone took him for. He has left you and your brothers alone for many moons, and you have always been loyal to him, always believing in his soon return. But he is no longer a warrior, he has lost his trust in the gods and they have lost faith in him. How can you still follow him like an orphaned dog?"

The steady sound of his crutches dies away as he drops into one of the wooden chairs. For the first time since he revealed to me that he wants to sail to England with his father, his eyes find mine. Ice blue gazes bore into my iris, making me forget to breathe for a few moments.

"(y/n), he is still my father...."

"Yes your father, the one who abandoned you and who now has to pay warriors to sail with him. Quite some time ago, it was everyone's greatest honor to go on plunder with your father, but those days are long gone. Your father's time is over Ivar, you are sailing to your certain death if you follow him."

Ivar's grip on his crutch tightens and I realize he is struggling with his anger. I am also aware that he would have killed, or at least maimed, anyone else who would speak of his father in such a way. But beeing best friends for many years, seems t to allow me certain privileges.

"(y/n)..."

"No Ivar, why are you so intent on sailing to England with him. You can make a name for yourself here and achieve great things. You can stay with me, we will find a way to bring you glory. Isn't it enough for you to be with me? A plunder in England, moreover without a proper army, is far too dangerous for a man like you..."

As soon as the last of these words leaves my lips, I realize that I have made a big mistake. Horrified, I clasp my hands in front of my mouth, my eyes widen in shock, and I watch tensely as Ivar stands up with the help of his crutch and stumbles a few steps toward me. The look in his eyes squeezes the air out of my lungs and I feel like I'm becoming a blood eagle myself.

"Ivar, please..."

"A man like me? What are you trying to say with that?"

"Ivar..."

"Shut up..."

Abruptly, I close my mouth and bury my teeth in my lower lip, the vile taste of iron spreading across my tongue.

"I really thought that at least you wouldn't see me as a cripple, that at least you...my best friend, the person I trust the most and who occupies the most space in my heart, would see me as more than a failed man."

Everything in me cries out to apologize, to tell Ivar that I didn't mean it, but the look in his eyes alone tells me all I need to know.

"And coming back to your question, no, being here with you is not enough. YOU are not enough."

I can literally feel the color draining from my face and I'm sure in that moment that a blood eagle wouldn't have hurt as much as his words. My lower lip begins to tremble suspiciously and my eyes fill with tears.

"Ivar...please...you don't mean that."

"I mean every word I said exactly as I said it..."

The coldness in his voice makes me shiver and the first tears fall from my eyes, tracing a fine trail down my cheek to my collarbone.

"....and now go, I don't want to see you anymore. And even if I die in England, it's better than living an insignificant life here with you."

After these words, he turns his back to me and I watch in despair as he disappears into the back rooms of the great hall. Loud sobs escape my throat and I feel my legs give way as I fall to the cold stone floor. My desperate sounds echo off the stone walls and I bury my head in my hands to avoid seeing anything. A few weeks later, the news of Ragnar's next great raid spreads through the streets of Kattegat. Again and again I try to talk to Ivar, to convince him to stay with me, or at least to be able to apologize so that we don't part in a quarrel. But each time I am met anew by one of his brothers, each of them desperately trying to explain to me that Ivar must do this to prove himself a true Viking. I know they are right, I know that Ivar desires nothing more than to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his father. However, this does not prevent me from caring for him. To be scared for him.

So it happens that a few weeks later I am standing on the dock and watching with eyes clouded over with sadness as Ivar ponderously makes his way to the ship. His gaze wanders again and again, searching, almost longingly over the crowd of people that has gathered on the pier. It gives the impression that he is searching for someone, as if he is on the lookout for someone. For a brief moment I hope that it is me he seems to be looking for, however, his words keep coming to my mind, deeply burned into my heart. Which is why I quickly banish the thought of him looking for me from my mind and push further into the background of the crowd.

My heart sinks as I watch the ships begin to move and Ivar moves further and further away from Kattegat and therefore away from me, unsure of whether we will ever see each other again or if the news of Ivar the Boneless's death will soon haunt Kattegat.

Many moons pass, the pain in my heart seems to consume me, every day I wake up hoping that things would get better, easier. But rather the opposite is the case, every day I send pleading and begging to Odin, promising him a great sacrifice, all so that Ivar, my Ivar returns safe and sound. Even if he will not speak a single word to me in his entire life, I still want him to return in one piece.

Winter is approaching Kattegat in great strides, the few things that grow here have already been harvested and everyone is diligently preparing for the impending cold that will soon come over Kattegat.

Light sweat forms on my forehead as I throw the last ingredients for my stew into the large cast-iron pot in the center of my hut. The warmth spreads comfortably as the open fire casts mysterious shadows through the cabin.

I wince abruptly as a loud, muffled knock shakes my front door, puzzled as to who would be disturbing me at this late hour, I don't move from the spot.

"(y/n) it's me....please open the door."

A soft gasp escapes my lips as I move with quick steps to the door, a loud noise ringing out as I let it crash backwards against the wall. But all this could not be more irrelevant to me at this moment. Eyes widening, I look at the hunched person in front of me, half his weight propped up on my door frame, while his other hand holds a tight grip onthe crutch next to him.

"Ivar..."

My emerging joy however is quickly shattered by the sight of him, swollen, heavily reddened eyes staring back at me, making the blue of his eyes shine even more strongly. His whole form seems to have fallen apart, deep worry lines run through his beautiful features. At this moment, he looks like a broken man.

"May I come in?"

His broken voice startles me out of my dull thoughts and I take a step to the side, nodding to give him enough room.

With a loud sigh, he lowers himself onto the wooden bench next to the fire, for a moment closing his eyes in pleasure as the heat of the flames caresses his skin. Silently I watch him for a moment, soaking up the sight of him, trying to make my heart understand that he is really sitting here in front of me.

"Would you like something to eat? I put on some fresh stew."

His silent nod is answer enough and just a few minutes later, I fill two wooden bowls full of stew before holding one of them up to Ivar. He accepts it with a grateful smile and sinks the first spoonful into his gullet.

An awkward silence spreads between us, the quarrel before his departure still hanging over our friendship like a test of endurance, unspoken questions on my tongue but not daring to leave my lips. The sound of wood on wood startles me from my thoughts, and I watch as Ivar sets his bowl down on the floor in front of him before rubbing his hands together in a warming motion.

"Thank you."

Noisily, I swallow my bite before replying.

"You're welcome."

Briefly, an uncomfortable silence threatens to fall over us again, but Ivar breaks it faster than it could have spread.

"My father is dead."

With a loud noise, the bowl slips through my frozen fingers, the stew spreading at my feet, seeping into the spaces between the wooden boards on the floor.

"Ivar..."

"My father is dead."

A glazed expression enters his eyes and only a few seconds later the hut is filled with Ivar's sobs, his whole body is shaken with sobs and he buries his head in his hands.

 It takes a moment for me to really process his words, for their meaning to really settle into my inner being. With careful steps, I move toward the man in front of me and carefully place my hands on his shoulders. A silent cry escapes me as he pulls me onto his lap without warning and buries his face between my breasts. Without thinking about it for long, I begin tenderly stroking through his full, brown hair. The individual strands glide gently through my fingers, leaving a pleasant feeling on my skin. Again and again I whisper words of encouragement in his ear, but even when his body has calmed down and his breathing seems even again, he doesn't even think about loosening his grip on my body or putting distance between us.

Only when the fire is extinguished, and the cold has returned to the hut as the darkness is broken only by the few candles that I have lit, I lean back a little, causing his face to slip from my chest with a discontented sound.

A mixture of sadness and weariness lie in his eyes, any radiance gone from them as he presses into the motions of my hand almost longingly.

"When's the last time you really slept?"

A worried expression comes to my face as a guilty glint flits across his features.

"It's been a while."

With a careful movement, I rise from his lap, careful not to break his vulnerable bones.

"Let's make sure you get some sleep this night then."

 A short time later, we are now lying pressed tightly together in my narrow bed. What gave me a sense of security and friendship back when I was a child now comes with a fast-beating heart and an unfamiliar blush to my cheek. But Ivar doesn't seem to feel any different.

"It's been some time since we've been in the same bed together," he says.

"Yes, the last time was when we were children."

A hotter laugh escapes his throat.

"Yeah, everything was easier then..."

His words just a whispered sentence, soon lost in the darkness of the room. Silence overtakes us and for a few moments I think that Ivar has already fallen asleep. But the sudden emergence of his voice proves me wrong.

"I want to apologize...for everything I said to you back then. You were, are and will always be the most important person in my life. I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't."

His words send a warm shiver through my body, a pleasant warmth spreads in the pit of my stomach, and a wide smile creeps onto my lips.

"An apology from Ivar the Boneless. Thank you gods for letting me live to hear this."

"If you tell anyone, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you."

The joking undertone of his voice elicits a bright laugh from me and I search for his with my hand, carefully sliding my fingers between his and then interlocking them together. Tentatively, Ivar begins to draw delicate patterns on the back of my hand with his thumb.

"You know what was odd?"

"What?"

Asking, I turn my head toward the sound of his voice.

"During all that time, even when we were in captivity and my father's fate had been sealed. I could only think of you. At the time when it was not clear whether I could ever again perceive the bustle and smell of Kattegat, I could only think of you. Your face, your laugh, the way you squinted your eyes when I tried to explain something to you, your stubbornness, your gentle fingers running through my hair...it was all I could think about. I hated myself for not saying goodbye to you, that the last words I said to you were not the loving, tender words you deserved, but  the words of a scared little boy..."

"Ivar...."

With a jerky movement I sit up and look down at him . The light from the candle on the nightstand casts a, warm orange glow on his face, making his skin glow and his eyes sparkle.

"Please let me finish. I don't know if I'll ever be able to muster the courage again, if not now...."

A silent nod from me is all he needs in response, as all at once he lifts our still joined hands to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on each of my fingertips before continuing.

"...With each night that I have not been able to be close to you, I have come to understand the real reason why you can upset me so, why only your opinion matters to me, and why your doubts about me and my manhood, my ability to plunder have hurt me so deeply..."

"Why?"

My voice is just a hotter whisper as I wait in anticipation and excitement for his next words.

"Because I love you. Because the stupid crush I had on you as a child has turned into a real, true love."

Tears of emotion rise in my eyes and run down my cheek in hot, salty trails.

"Ivar..."

"I love you (y/n), so much."

My incredulous laughter fills the darkness and I can't help but bridge the distance between us, pressing my lips to his, lit by the candlelight. A surprised sound escapes him before he joins in my steady movements and returns my caresses.  Our lips mould together and moving in perfect harmony. A hot gasp escapes his lips, swollen from kissing, as I finally break away from them. He lovingly strokes individual strands from my face before letting his cool hand rest on the overheated skin of my cheek. Amazement and joy are clearly readable from his eyes.

"Does that mean....?"

"I love you too Ivar..more than you can imagine." With a loud, hearty laugh, he wraps his arms around my body and pulls me onto his torso. I can feel his pronounced abdominal muscles clearly through my thin sleeping robe as he does so, his body heat surrounds me and again and again I noticed how he presses tender kisses on the crown of my head.

My head, meanwhile, rests on his chest, the steady sound of  his heartbeat calming my senses and allowing an inner peace to settle over my body.

"I will go back to England to join my brothers in revenge for our father's death."

I can clearly feel his body tense beneath me after those words, much like he's afraid of my answer. Which I can't blame him for after our last argument.

"I know. And this time, I'll go with you. Side by side"

[multific]

New Home

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Summary: Ivar brought Hvitserk home.

Hvitserk was his only brother left, so upon hearing about the kidnapping of his brother, Ivar, the King of Kattegat found himself on a ship.

Leaving everything behind, to save his brother.

And being the victorious leader he was, Ivar was able to save Hvitserk.

"Why did you come to save me?" asked Hvitserk as the ship sailed.

"Would you rather stay in that Christian filled village? I am bringing you home, brother."

"I have heard many tales about your Ivar. How you became King and earned respect."

"That I did. And if you wish, after your healing, you can stay."

They soon arrived back, everything was as Hvitserk remembered, the only thing hanging was the people he saw, he could barely recognize everyone.

Then, they got to Ivar's house.

"I'm back!" Ivar yelled and Hvitserk reached for his knife when he heard footsteps approach.

"DADDY!!!" Hvitserk watched as two young girls rushed over to Ivar who was now sitting in a chair. Both telling stories of their days, jumping up and down.

"Father. You are back earlier than expected." a young boy, older than the girls stopped in his tracks as he saw Hvitserk. Now the girls also noticed him.

"This is my brother, your uncle, Hvitserk. Now be careful he requires some healing so be nice."

"Uncle?" one of the girls asked.

"Yes." Ivar confirmed. "These are my children. My eldest son Finn, my twins, Halla and Hella." introduced Ivar his children to his brother. "My wife is... where is your mother?"

"She is feeding Assur." replied Finn as Ivar nodded.

"My youngest, born only a couple weeks ago, Assur."

"You have this many children?" Hvitserk was seriously surprised.

"I would have more... but Y/N said four would be enough."

"Y/N?" Hvitserk was confused. The name did sound familiar but he wasn't sure how.

"I'm here. I'm here, girls go wash your hands, I'll put food on the table, Finn, love, help your sisters please." you arrived with your son in your arms as your other children listened. "Hvitserk, really nice to see you... you do look like shit. Eat with us. I'll call the healer over later." you smiled at Hvitserk as you walked over to Ivar, offering him his son and a kiss. "Welcome home."

"How is he?"

"Strong. Has been kicking all day." you replied as you started to set the table. Ivar looked at his son, grabbing his leg and pushing it back softly, only for the small man to push back against his palm.

"Good."

Hvitserk stood stunned. Ivar was a smart man, this is exactly what he expected from his brother. Seeing him with children, who ran around.

"I'm-Congratulations brother. You have a nice family." Hvitserk finally walked further into the house, looking at his still sitting brother and the babe in his arms.

"Thank you," Ivar hoped this will give his brother another reason to stay.

"Say, Y/N, why does your name sound so familiar?" Hvitserk asked during supper.

"I used to be a shieldmaiden."

"Mummy was the best!" one of the girls, Hella, chimed in. Her twin nodded.

"I sure was. I met Ivar during a raid. We soon married and settled down."

Simple story really.

Hvitserk smiled as the boy sitting next to him looked shy.

"And so, Kattegat is thriving." Ivar nodded.

"Growing, new people moving in, the market is also growing greatly. I see merchants coming from far lands."

"Sounds like a dream."

"It is, and we are happy to live here. Kattegat is evergrowing and safe." you replied as you took a bite from your food.

After food, Hella and Halla thought it would be a good opportunity to show Hvitserk around their room, showing him the toys their father made as Finn also joined them, showing his room and belongings.

"My plan is working, Lovie." said Ivar as he hugged you, slowly pushing you against the wall.

"To have your brother back is something you longed for since I gave birth to Finn."

"I always wanted my family to be proud of me. My children and you are what I'm the proudest of." you smiled at Ivar before pulling him in for a short kiss before your youngest required your attention once more.

Ivar groaned as he watched you get the babe and placed him on your hip. You kissed his forehead and smiled as the babe giggled.

A sight Ivar would never be tired of.

You with your children.

The love of his life and the very thing born from the love you two shared.

Soon, he too had to leave as the girls wanted to show their uncle the animals in the woods.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The One He Chose

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

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

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

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘No good news?’ the eldest questioned.

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

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

‘You think she had an affair?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivar looked over at his brother incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Of course come with me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘A crate?’ Ivar asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Rumors?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘For how long?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At this all of them went silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Infection, can it be treated?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least not personally.

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

Everything was hitting her all at once.

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

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

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

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

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

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Ivar Asking You To Be His Would Include

-When Ivar first saw you, he knew that he had loved you. He has also never really been the guy to be too shy around people. But whenever you were around, he was so nervous even when he wasn't talking to you directly.

-He just was so enamored by you when you came into the room that he just did not know how to speak. Especially even know how to talk to you.

-His brothers had noticed his new behavior once you were around and had connected the dots just a little bit.

-After his brothers had noticed this change in behavior because of a woman they had all started to tease him a little bit because of it. Of course, Ivar had gotten mad at them whenever they made fun of him.

-They would also tell him that if he had liked you that much then he just go talk to you and try to get to know you better.

-He had always just let that go though because he was just so nervous to go and talk to you.

-After a while though you had started to catch on to Ivar having a bit of a crush on you and so you had started to make little gestures here and there whenever you would see him.

-Whenever you would make these small gestures to him, he would get really nervous and happy all at the same time.

-After a while he had started to talk to you more and be with you more as well too. His brothers had noticed this and had told him to just ask you to be his already.

-After a couple of weeks after he had first started to talk to you, he had finally asked you to be his and of course you had said yes.

[fictionalmenplz]

Never In A Thousand Years

Summary: Camille, younger sister to princess Gisla of France, you thought you would have time to choose a suitor but once your sister is married to the wild Viking Rollo, your father wishes to speed up the process and Rollo comes up with an idea that could possibly join the two kingdoms...

This will have more than one chapter I don't know how many yet I will probably come up with that as I go but expect more than five so far. This will also contain smut but in a few chapters so be patient. 😉

Warnings: violence, language, arranged marriage.

Chapter 1

I was not opposed to marrying a Viking, though Rollo had set my standards high by converting his religion, and dedicating his life to Paris. I knew I would struggle to find a man as good as he turned out to be, but I did not know I would have to marry such a vile man.

The conversation arose one month ago during dinner, everything was normal, Gisla was smitten and father was proud of his judgement, he must have thought himself to be a matchmaker of some sort when he came up with this brilliant sentence; "Gisla, as a woman I'm sure you have needs."

I could have spat my wine in his face to such a statement, how dare he say that, I was doing well on my own thank you. I would then go on to say, "Why do you ask father?" (I am much better at keeping my temper than Gisla.)

"Well, you are near twenty and have not had as much as one suitor that you are interested in," he started and I quirked a brow, insisting he go on. "don't you want a husband?"

"Father," Gisla interrupted and gave me a shocked look. He put his hands up in defense, "I just want my last heir to be happy." I scoffed, "And I assure you I am." I put down my fork and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"You are not excused, please sit down." Father said, my mouth hung open and I stood there for a moment, before slowly lowering myself onto the hard wooden chair.

"Forgive me, if this suggestion is wrong but, what if Camille, were to marry one of my nephews?" Rollo questioned from his high horse, who on earth do these men think they are? My father raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.

"That is not an awful idea Rollo." He says and taps his chin, "of course you remember Hvitserk, Camille." The third born child of Ragnar Lothbrok. "He came to request Aid from Rollo-"

"Yes, I remember him." I said through gritted teeth, the boy was just as stubborn as a mule and flirtatious, he acted like a child when he reaches maturity and sees his first woman.

"No, my king, he would not be a good suit for Camille." Rollo said and shook his head. My father turned his head in curiosity, "Then who, pray tell, would be?" Rollo smirked, twirling his fork in his fingers and glancing up at me. "Ivar."

My eyes widened and I shot Rollo a fierce look, "Never, that man is pure evil!" I shouted, father silenced me and took Rollo's suggestion into great consideration. No more than a week later Ivar showed up at the gates.

How he got here so quickly I have no idea, but he stayed for longer. Him and his chosen men occupied the great hall with boisterous dinners and rambunctious games, he had yet won me over, to say the least.

A couple times he had shown up at my chamber step, requesting entrance so we could talk and he could get to know me better, but I had denied many times, all but one.

It was a month before today, our wedding day. He came walking to my room, no crutch, only with the help of his braces which impressed me. He said the same thing as always.

"Hello Camille," he'd give me a longing look, "I was hoping you would let me in tonight." His french was getting very good, I hesitated for a moment and looked him up and down, pulling my robe closer and nodding my head.

"You may come in, Ivar." I said politely and he stepped in as I turned and walked to my balcony. His eyes wandered over my room, my bed, and then slowly up me.

He followed me to the balcony, leaning in the doorway as I rested my hands on the railing, I felt his eyes on me. I will my cheeks to keep their normal color, but his glowing blue eyes make it hard for me to not blush and I look at him angrily.

"What do you want Viking." I pestered and his eyes widened, "I only wanted you to know how beautiful you are," he stated and his lips kept slightly parted. I rolled my eyes, straightening my back and fixing my gaze at the town below us.

"I think you are even more beautiful than Freya." He added, I did not know a lot about the Norsemen's beliefs but I believe Freya was important when it came to how he compared me to her.

"Your words do not fool me." I replied blankly and narrowed my eyes at the moon. He stared confusedly at me for a moment, blinking and trying to piece together the foreign words I had used.

He shook his head, slightly jumping on his braces as he adjusted his stance and hummed for a moment. He lifted a hand and waved a finger, "I only know so much of your language,"

My face contorted in confusion this time and I turned to look at him, "And I will try my hardest to be a good husband to you." He shuffled closer, hesitantly placing a shaky but firm hand on top of mine.

"When we are wed, I will never force anything on you." His face was certain and I could tell he was being truthful, my expression softened my lips tightened together in a sort of awkward smile as I nodded my head.

I took him to my desk, pulling out parchment and pencils. I taught him many words and phrases, and he in return did the same. I learned a chant that many shield maidens call out before wars, and I learned of his triumph against a town called York.

I was impressed to learn that my future husbands victories were earned with his smarts and not his savageness. Eventually the conversation lingered to his legs, he quieted as he spoke and he knocked on the metal braces.

His face would twitch in pain at moments he adjusted to be able to sit more comfortably, my eyebrows twisted in worry as I watched him struggle and I interrupted his sentence.

"Is there a way I might help you? Or ease the pain?" My hand found its way onto his and his head snapped up from the desk, a shocked look as he swallowed, glancing at the braces and then nodding.

"it will only extend my time being here," he said, almost expecting me to immediately change my mind but I persisted and finally got him to seat himself on my bed.

He leaned on the back board and extended one leg, "Please, be careful." He said as he guided my hands onto several latches and knobs that I had to pry and twist.

I finished the first leg and he grunted in pain as it pinched his leg as it opened, I quickly moved the metal aside so his legs could rest comfortably and I finished with the left leg suit.

He leaned forward, rubbing his hands gently over his thighs and calves over his rough pants. I hovered my hands over the other leg, waiting for approval and then putting my hands to work.

I sat next to his legs, my legs folded together modestly in my robe so my slip would not show. After a few minutes he stopped, and I followed. He leaned his head on the back board, sighing and flicking his eyes towards me.

I smiled at him, his lips curling back at me in a sort of childlike smile. We sat there staring at each other for a moment, his hands fidgeting with his straps on his clothes and before I knew it his hands were on my neck.

Not in a demanding, grabby way, in a soft and wanting manner and his lips pressed mine as I leaned in. His nose brushed against mine I smiled against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck as his fell to my waist and he laid me down on my back, laying on top of me and not breaking our kiss.

His hands now traveled up my clothed sides, gripping at the soft material as though he wished it to be my flesh. He bit down on my lip, causing me to grunt and part my lips, allowing his tongue to be pushed inside to explore my mouth.

I tugged at his leather straps over his chest, it puzzled me why Vikings wore such tough material all the time. I kissed him back hungrily, holding my eyes shut as I sunk into the bed with his weight on top of me, it was a comforting and incredibly intimate feeling.

Feeling a man's body holding mine down like a weighted blanket, so much warmth being shared between our bodies that I reached for the tie of my robe, tugging it apart and revealing my thin night gown to air to cool me off.

He seemed to notice the absence of my hands as his face parted from mine and his eyes wandered down my body, the low cut neck and silk material hugged my body like a glove that he seemed to appreciate very much.

He bit his lip, gazing over my body and then pinching his eyes shut, pressing his body against mine again and interlocking our lips. One of his hands now gripped my side, rubbing over the silk and then adjusting his kisses to my jaw and my neck.

I tangled my fingers in his braids, tugging them as he sucked at the flesh of my neck feverishly and harshly. "Ivar..." I moaned and my back arched into him, suddenly so content in the feeling of his warmth on me, I jolted when he rolled over so abruptly.

I sat up quickly, watching as he crawled to his braces on the floor, an angry look on his face as he laid his leg on top. I quickly sat next to him, "let me help-" I tried but was met with his hand on my chest, pushing me away and a firm no shot from his lips.

I stared for a second in shock, waiting for a look or an apology but when he kept his eyes trained on his legs I stood, tying my robe again and sitting on my bed against the back board with my legs tucked to my chest.

I sat there and watched as he snapped the braces onto his legs, it hurt me to see him in so much pain as he rushed it but I knew if I tried to help him again he would push me away.

He hauled himself to his feet and strode out of my room, leaving me sniveling and tucking under my covers, trying to forget the new found bad memory.

That was last night, and today, on top of those frustrating feelings, I was supposed to leave my home forever.

[inexplicifics]

💛 (reunion kiss / relief) + Gweld/Serrit?

This is AWAU 'verse, well before Geralt calls the Schools together, and Serrit has not transitioned yet or even realized she wants to, so uses he/him pronouns.

Serrit has gotten used to seeing the Wolf every few months. It’s not regular as dwarf-made clockwork or anything, but somehow they run into each other at least twice or three times a year while out on the Path. It certainly has nothing to do with Serrit asking around about a redheaded Wolf Witcher with a startlingly cheerful demeanor, and Serrit has no idea if the Wolf does the same sort of thing. Probably he does. He certainly never seems terribly surprised when Serrit turns up.

But it’s been six months, and Serrit hasn’t seen hide nor red hair of his…occasional bedmate and hunting partner.

He goes south to Gorthur Gvaed for the winter feeling slightly unsettled. Not that he’d ever admit to that, nor to the reason. The Wolf is a good fuck and a good fighter, and that’s all there is to it.

He does ask around in the spring, though. Even drifts up into the lower reaches of Kaedwen - Wolf territory, where Vipers are not usually welcome - to see what there is to see. It’s just because the contracts are decent in that area, that’s all.

The contracts are decent, and Serrit makes decent money and even finds a merchant selling elf-made pigments that she hasn’t seen before, which means his sketchbook is even more colorful than usual when he makes it back to Gorthur Gvaed in the autumn. But there’s no word of a redheaded Wolf, either living or dead.

Serrit doesn’t actually care, of course. But he’s a little more irritable than usual that winter, and he wears himself out sparring against Ivar at least once a week, which is a lot more often than most people prefer going up against the Viper of Morgraig himself.

He doesn’t bother going up to Kaedwen in the spring. Cintra has plenty of monsters.

It also, he discovers somewhere in the middle of Litha, includes a certain redheaded Wolf he’d assumed was dead.

Gweld shows up in the middle of a really rather annoying bullvore fight - the damn thing is smarter than it ought to be, and keeps dodging - and demonstrates his usual trick of being exactly in the right place at the right time, so when the bullvore dodges Serrit’s attack it manages to walk right into Gweld’s, and once it’s wounded it’s not hard to finish off. Serrit even gets the killing blow.

And then he whirls and grabs Gweld by the collar of his armor and slams the Wolf against a tree. “What the hell,” he grits out, not entirely sure why he’s so angry but absolutely willing to gut the Wolf if he gives the wrong answer, whatever that might be.

Gweld blinks down at him for a moment, and then, bafflingly, smiles. “Ran afoul of a pack of bruxae on my way back to Kaer Morhen,” he says calmly, as if there’s not an angry Viper up in his face. “I won, obviously, but I also broke most of my ribs and all the bones in my right leg and foot.”

Serrit suppresses a wince. That’s a bad injury. Even for a Witcher, that’s almost always going to be fatal.

“One of my brothers found me and dragged me home, and I spent the whole winter recovering; wasn’t quite back to full strength in the spring, so Rennes assigned me as a trainer for a year.” Gweld smiles more broadly. “It was fun, but it’s good to be back on the Path. And good to see you again. I -”

Serrit kisses him to make him stop talking. He has a faint, worrisome feeling that if he actually hears whatever Gweld was about to say, it will change - something. Something Serrit isn’t ready to change, just yet.

Gweld makes a small startled noise and then huffs a soft laugh and takes Serrit’s face in his absurdly gentle hands and deepens the kiss, and when they part, he’s still smiling, but he doesn’t say anything at all.

(Or here on AO3!)

[keoni-chan]

Year 3 - Spring - Summary

🌷Population: 148 (multiplier x4)

🌷Families: DeLuna-Burkett McBride-Burkett DeLuna Weekes Grey Grey II Wolfe Hall Hall II Harmon Volden Volden II Marlow

🌷Deaths: Piper Hall (old age) Evelyn Burkett (ROS)

🌷Babies born: Riley and Matthew Wolfe

🌷Weddings: Ava DeLuna & Alex Wolfe Liam Wolfe & Colin Townie

🌷Engagements: Gabriel Harmon and Luna Grey

🌷 Break ups: Ivar Volden and Luna Grey Gabriel Harmon and Luna Grey

🌷Businesses: Floral (lvl 5) - Samuel Grey - Closed Coffee & Cake(lvl 3) - Sarah Wolfe - Closed Art Supply (lvl 4) - Piper James - Closed Josie’s home business (lvl 2) - Josephine Burkett - Closed Burger Boys (lvl 7) - Asia Wolfe Screen Time Cinema (lvl 5) - Samuel Grey F.L.E.X. (lvl 5) - Maxwell Hall Purple Noise (lvl 3) - Maxwell Hall Open Mic (lvl 3) - Jason Hall Pizza House (lvl 6) - Jason Hall Mirror Mirror (lvl 9) - Kiara Harmon Fresh Food Market (lvl 4) - Dwight Volden

🌷unlocked: Cars

[milkb0nny]

Mourning with Ivar

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 8: Mourning

Summary: Your father lost his life on the battlefield, achieving the honor to enter Valhalla. Though, you remained breathing, mourning - the death of your father burdened you. Your partner and anchor comforted you, helping to grief and recover.

Note: I'm sorry that today is a little short on the word count. This week exhausts me so much. I managed to create a somewhat heart wrenching prompt though! Enjoy. 🤎

Warnings: war, death of a family member, mention of blood and violence

word count: 883

Ivar and you were in a secrecy established relationship. He had been your rock, your pillar of strength, ever since you had met him. Many outsiders assumed that he owned you as a slave, given the nature of your relationship, but the truth was far more complex. You were partners, friends, and lovers who had found security in each other's arms. .

°°°

The battlefield was a scene of chaos, a place where the line between life and death blurred with every passing moment. The air was thick with the acrid stench of blood, and the sounds of clashing steel and anguished cries filled the air. Amidst the violent clash of swords and the screams of fallen warriors, your father had met his honorable end.

You stood at a distance, watching in horror as the battle raged on. Your heart- crushed. You knew that your father had gone into this battle with bravery, but it was a cruel reminder of the unforgiving war. He was gone and would never return.

Ivar approached you, sensing the tragedy that burdened your poor heart. As the battle raged on, his intense gaze never left your face. His hand slowly found yours, fingers intertwining as a silent gesture of support.

It was a signal that he was there for you. Your father unwillingly left you, but Ivar stood there, right next to you. Seeing how much the death hurt you, sliced deep wounds into Ivar’s heart. Your father was in no means close to him, but the young Viking desired revenge - revenge for the pain, for your loss and for your father. Though, the war was already won and nothing was there Ivar could do.

The battle ended, the wounded growling and the victorious cheers of the living. Between the happiness your tears dropped onto the crimson ground underneath your feet. You felt numb, unable to comprehend the loss of your father, a man you had admired and loved.

Carefully, Ivar put his hands on your shoulders, pressuring them with a firm grip. He slowly guided you away from the battlefield and your father’s corpse, leading you through the camp to a secluded spot.

There, he held you close. His arms embraced you, pulled you into an intimate hug. His right arm pushing you against his chest, his left hand resting on your head. You started crying, releasing the mourning emotions in a storm of tears and sobs. Your father, celebrating in Valhalla, had finally found his peace.

“I'm so sorry, my love,” Ivar whispered, petting your head gently. ”I know how much he meant to you.” He placed a kiss on your head, pulling you closer as you unconsciously slipped away a little. Your head slid to his lap, where you rested finally, gripping the fabric of his pants.

Usually Ivar hated when someone touched his fragile legs, but in this moment, he witnessed how fragile you were. You sought your comfort in him, crying. You couldn't find words to respond, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak.

Your father was dead.

The man who had told you to always stay focused in battle.

The person who fed you, taught you and loved you.

Gone, away, vanished from the earth.

You could never hug him, or tell him about your victories.

Ivar showered you in slow tender kisses, trying to calm your feelings down. His patience was tested, but it was worth it. After an hour of crying, your eyes had given up, and you caught onto your rational thoughts again. Evening announced itself, so you and Ivar returned to the camp, entering your shared tent.

It was in those vulnerable moments that your connection deepened. Thanks to Ivar you were able to contain yourself again and not lose all hope there was in life.

Ubbe and Sigurd rushed into Ivar’s tent, they had just learned about your fathers passing, and wanted to reassure the rumor. Instead, they bumped into your cuddling session, where Ivar kissed your cheek.

“Is it true?” Ubbe asked, indifferent of the relationship you had with his younger brother.

Thanks to Ivar you didn’t have to answer this uncomfortable question, as he replied with a single nod. Ubbe and Sigurd gazed at each other, sighing and paying your father respect.

Then they left you both alone.

Ivar’s voice filled the silence spoke softly, reassuring you again. “He was a great warrior with great ambitions, and he raised a remarkable warrior. He would be proud of you, just as I am, my love.”

The tears welled up in your eyes once more, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. Ivar held you, showered you in love and support. Back then you would’ve laughed if someone had told you, but in this very moment you felt Ivar’s hidden side.

“Death has a way of stealing time from us. But your father knew you loved him. He knew." Ivar’s words were the truth which hit you like a thunderstruck. Your heart ached but you knew you couldn’t deny the situation. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a gesture of comfort.

“We’ll make your father proud, when time comes, you’ll meet him again in Valhalla.”

[miss-madness67]

Married Woman (Ivar & Bjorn)

You find yourself attracted to a man that is not your husband. Worst of all, he loves you too.

The first time you saw him, you were instantly drawn to him. It was not because he is a son of Ragnar, you didn’t even know at the beginning. It was all himself. His broad shoulders and his blue eyes were quick to hypnotize you. The next thing you knew, you were in his bed. You could easily say that night was one of the best you spent with him. From then on, your relationship moved quite fast. He wanted to marry you, and you didn’t oppose. You married at Hedeby, his mother’s domain. You met him there when he came back from avenging his father in England. Your family just moved to the town in hopes to marry you. They were not disappointed when Bjorn Ironside took you as his. Not that you were complaining. Marrying a prince was more than you were expecting, considering that your parents are farmers.

“It’s really hard to be here and look at you, as though I’m not completely in love with you.”

The thread you were knitting breaks when you hear Ivar behind you. You stand up and turn to face him. He is by the door that leads to the hall. You take a quick look around the resting room, you are lucky it’s empty right now.

“Ivar, you know you can not say those things.” You scold, looking directly at him.

His gaze is so intense you have to look back at your knitting. You are making a robe for Bjorn. Lately, he has been a little distant. You think it is perhaps because you have yet to get pregnant. Yet, considering that you have not slept together in two weeks, it is a little hard to do so.

“It is the truth, should I lie, uhm?” he raises a brow mockingly.

You met Ivar a few months ago when Bjorn decided to come back to Kattegat for a while. You had just been married for a few weeks then, still, you instantly knew that Bjorn was not a man that stayed in one place. When you arrived at Kattegat, you also learned that you were not your husband’s first wife. Apparently, Torvi had just separated from him before he went to Hedeby. And he had another wife before her that disappeared.

You leave your knitting behind and walk to the other side of the room. “It is something you should not say to your brother’s wife,” you respond without glancing his way.

Ivar has always harbored feelings for you. They were not evident at first. He was just kinder to you than he was to everyone else. Then he started to get bolder, to the point that even Ubbe had noticed. Luckily, neither Queen Aslaug nor Bjorn suspected anything. You thought that perhaps if they knew, they would surely kick you out. Not that it was your fault Ivar felt that way, or that you have done anything with him. You have not.

You hear Ivar’s crutch as he approaches you. Your heart starts pounding rapidly inside your chest. Even if you have never done anything, you cannot deny how your body reacts to him. It is not that you do not have feelings for Bjorn anymore, it is just that what Ivar brings out in you is stronger. Ivar’s hand finds its way to your hip. His fingers delicately trace inconsistent patterns on your hip bone. Your skin burns to the contact in spite of the clothing in its way. You try desperately to control your breathing. He cannot know that his desire is reciprocated because if he does, you are scared of what he will do. You are scared you might do not want to stop him.

“My brother does not deserve you,” he whispers in your ear. “You know how he is. I’m sure Torvi has warned you he is quick to fall out of love.” She did warn you, but you refuse to believe it.

You try to step away, but he does not let you. “It is fine, once I am with child it will be fine.” you attempt to justify.

Your skin feels hot to the touch. You want to escape the feelings that Ivar causes in you, so you think that if you turn around, he will put distance between you. However, once your eyes clash with his, his hold on you tightens. You have never been this close to Ivar. For a moment, all of your rational thoughts leave your brain instantly. The only thing you can think of is his eyes. They are so unlike his brother’s. The shade is the same, yet they transmit something entirely different. They make you feel something completely new.

At that moment of insanity, you take a step towards him. Your senses drown in his presence. You feel you, yet you feel more. Your hand finds its way to his neck. He is taller than you and you love it. His chest clashes with yours and both your breaths mix. You do not know what you are doing, but it feels so right. It is like welcoming your lover after how long raid far from home. It is everything you wish you felt with Bjorn but never did.

“Once you are with me,” he murmurs on your lips, “it will be fine.”

You do not have time to process what is happening, or even to think. One moment he is looking at you like you are his whole life, and the next, he is eating you like you are the greatest feast ever served. His lips mold perfectly with yours. Your hands cup his neck exquisitely. His hand moves from your hip to your back, leaving a trace of fire on its path. Your tongues dance like never before, and you forget your name. It feels like, before this moment, you didn't truly know what happiness and passion were like.

You feel the hold on his crutch slightly wavering. You know that he is strong, yet he must be feeling lightheaded like you. You part from him momentarily, and he tries to follow your lips with his. You pay no mind and quickly locate a chair nearby. You push him towards it. He sits with a puzzled look on his face. Still, he easily knows what you are up to once you climb on his lap.

Your mouths take no time to find each other again. Now, both of his hands caress your sides and your back lovingly. Meanwhile, yours play with his braided hair. You wish it were loose so you could run your fingers through it. You move your hips involuntarily. That causes a moan to escape his mouth. If you were not aroused before, you are now. You continue with your movements so you can listen to the delicious sounds his mouth makes. It is until he places his hand in your left breast that you realize you are moaning too. Right now, you are not thinking that you are in a room where anyone could walk in. You are not thinking about Bjorn. Or the fact that you are kissing his brother.

A loud crash breaks the atmosphere instantly. In the doorway, a male thrall is standing with a surprised look on his face. At his feet, there is a jug with spilled mead. You quickly climb out of Ivar. The thrall turns away, apologizes, and scurries off. You do not try to go after him to prevent him from saying anything. You are too embarrassed to even glance at Ivar. The silence stretches for a moment.

“I…” before Ivar can say something else, you run out the door.

...

A few days go by. You have been ignoring Ivar ever since the kiss. You only talked when he told you that he took care of the thrall. You did not ask what he did, but you suspect it. A dead slave would not be questioned. In that short conversation, you only managed to nod and flee. The desire you feel for him is too great to simply ignore. Now that he knows he is reciprocated, he has been more persistent in his advances. It has made it nearly impossible to avoid him. Still, what you fear the most is that if you are in a room alone with him, all of your resolutions will be broken again. You fear Bjorn noticing your heart no longer belongs to him. You do not think he will hold it against you, but you still care for him. You do not want to break his heart.

On the other hand, some part of you believes it will not be broken. He has kept on being distant towards you. The night you kissed Ivar, you tried to sleep with him out of guilt. Your advances were stronger than the nights before, and he finally complied. It is safe to say that was the worst sex of your life. At first, he could not get it up, and then it was just not… satisfying. You had to conjure the image of his brother in your mind in order to finish. So, even more so than the neglecting, that was what made you think there could be another woman. Torvi had warned you, so had Ivar and Ubbe. You did not believe it then. Now you do.

As you follow Bjorn through the streets of Kattegat, some part of you wishes to be wrong. You do not want him to cheat on you, which is a bit hypocritical considering you kissed Ivar.

A woman crashes with you, and she murmurs insults your way. Nevertheless, when she looks at your face, she stops. Recognition flashes in her eyes. She smirks, apologizes, and then says something like "one of Ironside wives". The comment bothers you, not because that would make you second to other women in Bjorn's life, but because that means that you are not even memorable to the people of Kattegat. They think you will be gone soon, forgotten in the list of many wives. That you are just one of the many he will have. Still, you must not let it show that it bothered you, so you look down on her way and walk off.

The little encounter makes you lose sight of Bjorn. It takes you a while to find again his blond hair in the crowd. When you do, you see him entering a cabin on the outskirts of town. It was hard to trail him without him noticing, but now that you have seen where he went, you do not want to ruin it. You wait a few minutes at a safe distance, but no one comes inside. Slowly, you approach the place. Your heart is pounding rapidly, wondering what you will find.

The first thing you notice is the loud moans of a woman. That makes you freeze on the spot. Your head screams ‘I knew it’ but you need to see, to make sure. There is a crack in the wood near the door, you go near it. The hole is big enough to show you what is inside. From your spot, you have a direct view of the bed. You are not surprised by what you see.

Your husband, Bjorn, is bent over a woman laying in fours on the bed. You cannot see her face, but you distinguish blonde hair.  Bjorn is pounding rapidly into her. The cabin is filled with her moans and the obscene sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Bjorn groans above her. He grabs her by the hair, lifting her face, and that is when you recognize her. You have never talked with her, after all, she is merely a thrall. You think her name is Freydis. You remember her because she used to cling to Ivar until she realized he was not interested. Back then, you had been slightly jealous. Now, looking at your husband fuck her makes you feel… relief.

You had expected to drown in betrayal or heartbreak. None of that happens. Instead, it is then that you realize that you can be free about your feelings for Ivar. If Bjorn does not care about you any longer, then it does not matter that you are in love with another. You no longer have to remain loyal to him or feel guilty over a simple kiss. Especially with him fucking a slave for Odin knows how long. However, you crave closure. So while Bjorn is still pounding her cunt, you open the door noisily.

Your husband looks up from his task and stops abruptly. He says your name, shocked, and pushes Freydis away. The slave falls to the ground with a thud, but you do not spare a glance her way.

“I know now why you were distant,” you talk first.

He stands up and covers himself with the furs. “I…”

You do not let him talk. You have never seen Bjorn Ironside startled, yet it is your turn to express your feelings. “It is ok, Bjorn. I do not mind, nor do I feel betrayed. Everyone warned me this would happen. Tell me, do you still love me?”

He is even more surprised now. He looks down at Freydis and then at you. He seems embarrassed, though certain. It takes him a while to answer. “I am sorry. I still care about you, but not the way I used to.”

You nod in understanding. “It seems like the gods had put us together to derive our paths to someone else.”

For a moment, he appears confused. Then, a knowing smile overcomes his face. “Ivar, am I right?”

Now is your time to be startled. “How did you…”

He interrupts you. “He is not very subtle… The way he looks at you, I have never looked at anyone that way.” At least he is honest about not loving the thrall either. Then, he adds: “just be careful with him, yes? He is still Ivar The Boneless.” You both know what he means, but you are done listening to your now ex-husband. You nod at him and walk away.

Your body is buzzing with freedom inside your veins. The love and desire you feel for Ivar drives you to search for him. You know he must be in the forest right now, probably in the spot he showed you once; where he went to think. It is not very far from where you are now. You bypass half Kattegat and then scurry off into the woods. The hike seems endless, but it is the best one of your life. Your heart beats fast, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You have to control yourself before you meet him . You tell yourself that over and over again. And yet, when you see his back, you shout his name. He turns around and sees you.

He is confused, you can see it in his eyes, but when you sit in his lap and kiss him senselessly, he does not pull away. He places his hands on your face and pulls you closer. You know that you must explain everything to him. Tell him that you are no longer married, that your heart belongs to him, that you want with him what you could not with his brother. You want to tell him that and more, but for now, you express it in the kiss. And when he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you know he understands.