#reblog for new viking knowledge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirlings-things · 4 years

Text

Ocean Eyes I

OCEAN EYES MASTERLIST

Word count: 3.9K

SET ON 5x12

A/N: guyssss here is the first chapter!!! i want to thank you all for the positive feedback, the comments and reblogs, likes thank youuu so much!!! hope you guys like the beginning of this story, love love love 💖

tag list: @castielsangelsx ; @ritual-unions-gotme ; @freckled-lass ; @irrelevantyettopicalusername ; @charming-merlin ; @pieces-by-me

Vikings tag list: @maggiescarborough ; @charmingvalkyrie

TAG LIST IS OPEN || ALL GIFS USED IN HERE BELONG TO ME

─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」━─━─

They were brought in by the guards in a group of four. Two women at the middle and two tall men, the sons of Ragnar, at the edges.

From your spot, close to one of the great walls alongside with your mother, Judith, and your brother, Aethelred, you took it upon yourself to analyze all of them as you tried to calm down your heart, that was beating incredibly fast inside your chest.

It had been like that ever since the moment Alfred had gone to your chambers, to tell you that he had made a decision regarding the Northmen and that he had a plan. He knew what to do. Although in fear, you trusted your brother. More than anything or anyone in the whole world.

And also, your grandfather had prepared him to make tough decisions like that one. He had given Alfred his every ruling knowledge, the wisdom of a great King. If someone could ensure your family prevailed, that person was Alfred.

"I am aware of who you are" Alfred's voice filled the great hall. On the throne, with Bishop Heahmund standing by his side he looked a lot like Ecbert, when he used to make announcements with Bishop Edmund's Christian council. "I'm not foolish enough to not recognize your potential for my kingdom" just like you, he ran his eyes through the four of the Northmen as he spoke. Not in threat, but respect. "If you were willing to fight with us against the armies of your countrymen"

After hearing your twin brother's words, the men who was closest to where you were standing, Ubbe, the son of Ragnar, smiled and looked at the ground with a silent laugh escaping his lips. That disturbed you, made you feel even more worried about what Alfred would try to do, what agreement he would propose to them.

As if he had sensed your intense stare, the man, Ubbe, turned his head slightly and fixed his eyes right back at yours, in retribution for your own gaze. His eyes were blue. So deeply blue.

"We may" Bjorn Ironside spoke for the first time at the other edge of the group and that broke the eye contact you and his brother were exchanging. You swallowed hard because of how nervous that look had made you feel. "On the condition, that you allow us to settle in the part of East Anglia King Ecbert gave to us"

Aethelred huffed, and you wished to hit him for that, having a second reason to apologize for afterwards. Bjorn Ironside's tone was already threatening enough and worthy of caution. You all did not need him to think he was being disrespected.

Luckily enough, the Northmen did not notice that.

"I have every intention of honoring my grandfather's pledges" Alfred made that very clear to the blond man, clenching at the throne's arms like they were his support. You admired him. To have such coldness and calmness to deal with the same people who had killed thousands of Englishmen before, that was something worthy of admiration. "But first you must demonstrate your worth and your loyalty to our cause in battle"

Exactly like Ubbe had done before, Bjorn Ironside laughed and looked down at his feet, licking his lips in something that came close to amusement. Again, it made you worried. More than you already were. If they did not accept the deal Alfred was offering, their fate would be prison or death. And even though the sons of Ragnar were at war, you doubted that absolutely no one would seek revenge for them. That was the way with them.

"We have the legal right to that land" Bjorn raised his eyes again and they pierced Alfred like blades, such was the ferocity in them.

You knew what your grandfather had done in the past to his people. How he had killed all the people in the settlement he had gave them to live in peace. How he betrayed Ragnar and Lagertha's, the older woman who now stood in that hall, trust. You knew that in the verge of his death, your grandfather was not proud of that decision. Perhaps he did not regret it, but he for sure resented it. So, as much as it cost you to admit, you understood Bjorn Ironside's clear doubt in your brother's words.

"We accept your offer" Lagertha surprised everyone by saying it.

Instantly all the eyes in the hall were on her. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe turned their heads to her and Bjorn mostly, seemed angry by her jumping to decisions, especially one that seemed too reckless as to trust again, a King of Wessex. And although they clearly did not agree with her, both of the men did not argue and she did not pay them any attention. She made the decision and they accepted it. You could not help but admire her determination and influence over them.

"I am glad" Alfred sighted, in relief. You knew very much your brother was not someone who supported violence or the wrongs of people in the past. Although he had been raised by your grandfather, he was not Ecbert. He would not make the same mistakes or break his promises. And although you did resent Ragnar's sons for your grandfather's death, you felt relief as well for that deal. They had wanted to avenge their father, that you could understand. But still, the pain of your loss made it difficult to acknowledge it out loud. "It was Bishop Heahmund who proposed this solution which seemed to me wise"

Slowly and respectfully, Heahmund turned his head a bit and nodded in Lagertha's direction, a sign of respect and duty. She did the same to him. And even though their movements were stern and cold, you could swear you saw a spark in both of their eyes. Something hidden there, carefully.

"So" Alfred regained his speech and that made you stop paying attention to the woman and the Bishop. "As long as we are allies and friends you are free to use the royal villa as you wish" at the back of the hall, you saw some of the Lords who were a part of the Witan, exchanging horrified looks. "My servants are also your servants. My kitchens and cellars are there for your use. I believe you have two young children with you"

That, made you turn your head completely and focus on your twin. He had not told you about that. The thought of young children in the cells of the palace, cold and hungry, made your stomach twist and shame take the whole of your being.

The other woman, the one who had not spoken at all since they had been brought before the King, nodded her head confirming his words. Instantly, for the look in her eyes, you knew she was the children's mother.

"Let us have a care for them also" Alfred stated and the woman's face seemed to light up gratefully like she had just received the best news in the world.

"Thank you, Lord King" she said with the utter most respect.

Alfred turned his head to the corner of the room and with one of his hands, made a sign for one of the guards to step forward. "We have fought against you and now we shall fight together, with you" he said as the guard started to take out the Northmen's chains and release them. "I know my grandfather King Ecbert would approve for I know the love he bore King Ragnar"

At your grandfather's mention, you could not help but feel a sharp emotion run through your whole being. Your eyes got blurry and a tear streamed down your face. Your mother looked at you discretely but did not say a word, just smiled tenderly. You looked down at your feet and cleaned the tear with your fingertips, taking a deep breath to regain your posture. When you looked up, you saw that Ubbe was looking at you again. He had clearly seen you crying and it angered you.

You did not want to seem weak in front of them.

Without any other words, the Northmen were dismissed and left the great hall. Alfred watched them leave, getting up from his throne and taking a few steps forward. All the eyes were on him.

"Can I trust them?" Alfred asked as soon as the Northmen left the hall and the doors were closed behind them.

"You can trust Lagertha" the Bishop answered almost instantly, because he knew the question had been made to him.

Alfred nodded and started to walk away. Before he could though, Heahmund called for him to solve one more matter. As they discussed it, you felt your mind slip further away by every instant passed.

"If you would excuse me, my King" you bowed to your brother and only after he nodded, giving you permission to leave, you turned away and did so.

─━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─━─「⊱✠⊰━─━─

You walked through the corridors of the palace, one long corridor after the other, looking for Alfred. You had just met his soon to be wife and she seemed to be a good person, so it gave you some joy. At your mother's request, you had the responsibility to take Alfred to meet her as soon as possible.

You had already searched his chambers and others rooms, but did not have any luck. So, your feet got you to the corridor on the south side of the palace, which lead to a room you knew Alfred liked to be in sometimes. The view from the windows calmed him, he always said.

"Brother, are you here?" you opened the doors and entered the room. As soon as you did so, you regretted it. Alfred was there, but not alone. Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe were with him and the tension in there was anything but calm. All their eyes fell upon you and you sighted for your own stupidity. You should have assumed he would be settling matters with them regarding the new alliance. "I am sorry to interrupt"

"(Y/N), what is it?" Alfred interrupted the matter to give you attention. To him, there was nothing more important than you.

"The Lady is here" you said and he understood of whom you were talking about. Ubbe and Bjorn Ironside just stayed silent, both of them with their eyes still on you. You did not stare back to any of them.

"If you just wait for a moment, sister, I will accompany you and go meet her" he suggested and pointed to an empty chair on the other side of the table, across from him. You nodded and just when you sat down at that chair, he looked at Ubbe. "Please, continue"

It took a moment for the son of Ragnar to speak and risking a quick glance, you saw that he was looking at you. As soon as your eyes met his though, he averted his quickly like you were intimidating. That made you frown.

"Now, you are the King" Ubbe slapped Alfred in the arm with a forced smile on his lips and walked towards a near smaller table, grabbed a writing quill and ink and placed it in front of Alfred, next to a document you assumed to be the one that 'proved' the Northmen's claim to East Anglia's lands. You knew that was a lie, also. Your grandfather had already given the crown to your father, Aethelwulf, when he signed the document and therefore, had no legal right to give them those lands. "So, you can sign it over to us and you can grant us those lands right now"

You noticed how Alfred sighted heavily. "In theory, yes, I could"

"What does that mean?" Bjorn Ironside raised his hands in the air, exasperated. You had to admit that he scared you. A simple word said in a higher tone by him made your heart beat faster.

Alfred placed one of his elbows on the table and leaned towards the blond. "There are important people here who do not want me to grant lands to those who in the past, have attacked and raided us"

"So why would we fight for you when everything you say is just a lie?" Ubbe placed his hands on the table between his brother and Alfred, the expression on his face made you wish to tell your brother to have caution.

"I am not lying" Alfred turned to him with a expression as serious as the Northmen's. "I am being more honest with you than you have any right to expect!" he looked at Bjorn and then back at Ubbe. He seemed so strong, facing the older men as an equal in strength, that you felt a burst of proud run through you. "You have thrown yourself upon my mercy. So, do not presume anymore upon my charity" he got up from his chair and you instantly did the same. "When I can, I will grant you that land. In the meantime, I must go and meet my future wife"

So together, you and Alfred left the room. The both of you could sense the Northmen's eyes burning holes in your backs.

─━─━━─「⊱✠⊰」─━━─━─「⊱✠⊰」─━─━─

"I think what troubles Bjorn Ironside the most is that he lost the war against his younger brothers" with arms crossed over your chest and your back against the wall behind you, yours eyes were on the ground beneath your feet as you thought deeply about the last few days where everything had changed.

"Yes, I can see that. But I suppose we cannot blame him for having suspicions about us. Our grandfather betrayed them in the past" Alfred had his eyes sat on the fireplace, thoughts lost in the flames. "I really wish this alliance to work, my dear sister"

"Me too" you said but noticed that Alfred had fixed his eyes on your face and searched for something hidden in there. "What is it?"

"I thought you would not want them here. Because of grandfather and what the sons of Ragnar did. Honestly, I wondered if you would support Aethelred if he suggested we should punish them" he admitted, and the supposition made you shrug.

"I thought about it" the fire, crackling, was the second sound in the room behind your voice. You could feel the cold of stones in your back through the thin cloth of your dress. "But our grandfather was not perfect like I thought when we were just children. He made mistakes. He should not have handed Ragnar Lothbrok to King Aelle. He should not have killed those poeple in the settlement he promised to leave in peace. How can I blame Ragnar's sons for seeking revenge for such things?"

"I am glad you think so. I share your opinion on the matter and that is why I wanted you to be here, not mother or our brother" Alfred opened up a smile to you.

His statement made you frown. "Why would you want me to be here?"

"We are expecting a visitor right now. I sent one of my men to bring him here. You are very wise, my sister, so I will need to hear your advice on this as much as he wil" Alfred's eyes went back to the flames.

"What visitor, Alfred?"

Before he could answer, the doors of the room were opened and Ubbe walked in, seeming unsure if he should keep on walking or not. He looked around, saw no one but you and your brother and the confusion and uncertainty on his face seemed to grow by the instant.

But he walked towards you both anyway, stood a few feet away as Alfred turned around and like you, placed your eyes on the Northmen. You found yourself struggling to look away from the son of Ragnar. Again.

During the earlier feast, your eyes had met his many times, for no reason at all. When you would look, he would already be looking. When you were looking and he would notice, you turned away quickly to try to distract yourself. There was just something about him. He was not like Bjorn Ironside, with all his anger. Nor like Ivar, whom you had met when you were just a little girl. There was something different and intriguing about him. Captivating, even. Not that it did make you trust him, though.

"You asked to see me" he frowned at Alfred, joining his hands in the front of his body casually.

"Yes" Alfred quickly agreed. "Please, sit" he pulled the chair at the table a little back and motioned for Ubbe to sit. Still suspicious, the Northmen did not move, just sighted. Alfred accepted the defeat by clearing his throat. "Some wine?" he poured some into a cup and helding it in hand, turned back at Ubbe. You just stayed still and waited as you did not know what was happening. "I think your brother Bjorn has set his heart against me"

"He feels..." Ubbe started, thinking about it for a moment. Then shrugged. "betrayed"

"I understand that. But what can I do? It was not of my doing" Alfred averted his eyes for a moment and sighted. "And for the time being it is not easy for me to grant you those lands. Many are against it"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Ubbe questioned, still not seeming to see the point of that private reunion of the three of you.

"A consilium" you spoke, having finally understood where Alfred was going with that sudden meeting. It made sense. He knew that alone, against the two of you, Ubbe would more easily see reason. Ubbe's eyes were on you in that moment, and your arms fell to the sides of your body graciously as you walked closer to the both of them. "You could publicly renounce your pagan gods and be baptized as a christian"

Ubbe seemed shocked, by the way his gaze kept holding yours until the point he averted his eyes and sighted. "I can't imagine Bjorn would ever agree to that" he turned away to leave, but Alfred stopped him.

"I am not talking about Bjorn, but about you" Alfred's tone was stern enough to make Ubbe turn back around and stare at the both of you. Motioning for the wine, he came closer. Alfred poured a second and third cup. One he gave to Ubbe and the other, to you. "You do that for me, Ubbe, and a part of my burden is lifted. Ragnar talked to me and my sister when we were children. He talked about your people and my people sharing the land"

"And we think that of all of his sons, you are the closest to him" you said and you saw Ubbe swallow hard, as if the comparison made him proud about himself.

Alfred nodded in agreement to your words. "He told our grandfather that he no longer believed in your gods"

The expression in Ubbe's face changed, and he raised his cup in the air and towards your brother's face. "That is not true"

"Our grandfather told us everything" you spoke again, wanting to take that dangerous attention away from Alfred. "He wanted to prepare us, especially my brother, for times such as this" as the words left your mouth Ubbe put the cup down, and a calmer expression took a hold of his features. "He loved your father, we know that. Your father's death broke him"

"Destroyed him" Alfred completed and in that moment as in many others, you two were working in perfect sinchrony.

Ubbe took a deep breath and leaving his cup at the table, got up and came closer to Alfred and stared deep into his eyes. Afterwards, he did the same thing to you. Stepped so close you could almost feel his hot breath on your skin. But you did not look away or step back, no. You looked up to meet his eyes and held his gaze for as long as he wished to.

"I will need time" he finally stepped back, and only then you allowed yourself to breathe again. Your heart was racing inside your chest like the most scared of horses. "to think about what you have told me"

"Of course. And (Y/N), please will you take Ubbe to the chambers the servants have prepared for him and his people?" Alfred suggested and it surprised both you and the son of Ragnar a lot. Your bother smiled reassuringly at you, he had indeed, told you earlier where he would place the small group of the Northmen. And then, he turned to Ubbe. "Your wife Torvi and the others will already be there, I also asked for some extra food to be delivered, for the children"

"Thank you" Ubbe motioned his head towards Alfred to show his gratitude, then turned to you. "My Lady" it was the first time he spoke directly to you and the respectful tone of his voice, actually made you give him a little smile.

"Please, follow me" you took the front and walked out of the room, Ubbe following you closely behind.

Once in the corridors, you two walked side by side in completele silence. Honestly, you did not know what you could say. You were certain Alfred had made you do this because he wanted you to see if Ubbe would probably accept the consilium, or if he would deny it. You had always been good in reading people. But still... how should you question such a man?

"Can I trust Alfred's word?" Ubbe said, speaking so suddenly that you stopped walking in surprise. The torches lit the corridor just enough to cast shadows on his face and when he also stopped walking and turned to fix his gaze on you, you suddenly realized that you two were completely alone in there. Just you and him.

"Yes, of course" you stated, surprised by the sudden question. You thought the way to his chambers was going to be totally made in silence.

You motioned to start walking again, but he stepped in your way, keeping you from going. Before you could say anything, the Northman's hands were closed around your forearms. Your eyes widened, but you were so shocked that no words left your mouth. His grip was not tight or bruising. It was almost gentle, as his fingetips just laid in your dress, not clenched at it.

Holding you, Ubbe got closer and closer until your chests were almost touching. He looked down at you, as you had to look up to meet his eyes. There was a real question in his expression, hesitation that he seemed to wish to let go. "King Ecbert said my father could trust him and he was lying. So I am asking you, my Lady, if I can trust Alfred. If I do this, become a Christian, will he grant me those lands and let my people live in peace?"

"My brother is not my grandfather" you said a few moments later, when you finally were able to regain your voice. His proximity gave you chills. You saw the doubt in his eyes. "I promise you, this settlement will not end as the other did"

He must have seen the honesty in your expression. The urgency in your voice. His hands slowly let go of your arms and for some reason you missed the warmth of his hands upon your dress.

You did not exchange more words, you just led the way to his chambers and wished him and his family a goodnight of sleep.

In your chambers, later, you felt extremely tired.

Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought about were Ubbe's eyes. Intense blue eyes. So alive, so captivating.

Those ocean eyes.

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #vikings fanfic #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe fic #ubbe lothbrok imagine #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #ubbe ragnarsson imagine

159 notes · View notes

ariendiel · 4 years

Text

LITG Characters in Different Eras

I got this amazing ask from Margot (@lucas-koh) about which other eras I could imagine Noah in besides from regency England. So I decided to do something similar for some of the other season 2 LIs. Again, just a quick disclaimer that I’m from northern Europe and so this is unfortunately quite Eurocentric - so please reblog/comment with your own suggestions!

Bobby

The Golden Age of Piracy (1650-1680)

Specifically, the buccaneering period. I think everyone is onboard with the idea of pirate Bobby and just imagining him wreaking havoc in the Caribbean, hanging out on Tortuga, having a pet parrot... Yes please (also read Edge of the World by @longbobmckenzie please)

80s London (1980s)

Punk, protest, pride. Bobby would fit perfectly in London in the 1980s, embracing the social rebellion and anger at the government. Him and Paisley Cuddle would be in the midst of it all, meeting other bands of the era, getting caught up in protests, maybe even struggling with drugs. Not the mention the AIDS crisis...

Gary

The Tudor Period (1530s-1540s)

I would love a Gary fic set during the reign of Henry VIII. You have all the best political intrigue, the break from Rome, knights, treason and executions. Add some juicy romance (perhaps with a married young lady *gasp*) and drama and voila!

The Third Crusade (1189–1192)

Basically Kingdom of Heaven, but with Gary. I think he’d be suitable as a naive knight who thinks reclaiming the Holy Land is the noblest of causes, but upon meeting the people in the Middle East, fighting and killing he starts questioning the meaning of it all. The history of Saladin is also super interesting.

Henrik

Viking Era (10th Century AD)

Not the stereotypical viking though because I don’t see Henrik as a raider. I'd love to see him as a farmer boy turned explorer; travelling to new places, maybe even as far as Byzantium. There he becomes a bodyguard (Vikings were popular for this and as mercenaries), and maybe he falls in love... Then you've also got the whole forced conversion into Christianity and, yeah, I could go on.

Gustavian Era (1770-1780s)

Inspired by the film Marie Antoinette, I’d love Henrik as an ambassador in France, trying to gain support on behalf of King Gustav III. Following the coup d’etat, he’d be in the middle of many reforms that greatly angered the nobility. There would be flourishing arts, trande, music, but also a growing population and alcoholism. Then of course there’s the situation in France, where perhaps he has a lover...

Lucas

The Roaring Twenties (1920-1930)

New York. Jazz. Flappers. Prohibition. New technologies. Mafia. There are one or two fics with detective/crime lord Lucas, and it’s so fitting! I’d love to read a full Lucas fit set during this time, with a fully developed alternate universe.

Joseon Dynasty Under Yeonsangun (1494-1506)

Korea has such a rich and fascinating history, and I love to picture Lucas doing his best to resist and survive during the reign of perhaps the worst tyrant of the Joseon dynasty. There were bloody purges of scholars, massive abductions of women, blasphemy, and suppression of knowledge/learning. Lucas would definitely be part of the plot to overthrow him!

Marisol

French Revolution (1789 - 1799)

Marisol would have loved the idealism at the start, sparking her interest in politics and she would very much get involved. You have the birth of modern liberal democracy and French feminism. With friends like Olympe de Gouges, she would’ve been so hopeful for the future, before having to watch with horror and probably try and escape during the reign of terror... Add a forbidden romance and you’ve got an amazing fic

The Spanish Inquisition (16th century AD)

Spain at perhaps the height of its power; prosecution of minorities, witch hunts, war, and suspicion. In general it was an interesting time in history and would be a very interesting setting for a Marisol fic.

Noah

Ancient Rome (around 50-40 BC)

I can see Noah as a centurion in the armies of Julius Caesar towards the end of the Roman Republic, feeling increasingly conflicted during the Gaul invasion and questioning what they’re fighting for. He’d pray to the goddess Minerva for guidance, read Greek philosophy and long back to the days before fighting. Add the crossing of the Rubicon with the following drama and a romance, and you’d have a brilliant fic!

High Middle Ages (around 1170)

During Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine's time in Poitiers. It’s when the classic ideas of troubadours, chivalry, and courtly love are said to have emerged - and I think Noah would fit beautifully in that time period. Then you’ve got the crusades, the 12th century renaissance, knights, and arranged marriages *gasp*

US Civil Rights Movement (around the 1960s)

I just think Noah would really fit in a time when people fought for equality and against segregation, and he would definitely be passionately involved in the civil rights movement. The focus on nonviolence and civil disobedience would also appeal to him. It's also canon that he loves old music, and the 60s would really suit him like that.

#let me know if any of these pique your interest #because I would read them all #and would be happy to help write it/them 👀#fic ideas #litg bobby #litg gary #litg henrik #litg lucas #litg marisol #litg noah #love island the game #litg s2 #love island game #i could go on because i love history #but had to restrain myself

56 notes · View notes

scribeofmorpheus · 4 years

Text

Himmeløyne [23/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: Angst???

A/N: Please check out my original story, The Abstract Dark (previously: Our Lady of Darkness), for some spooks, a little witch-craft under moonlight, and terryfying vampyre-like things! (18+ mature content)

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

The armour took the brunt of the impact as soon as the portal blinked out of existence, seizing the world of Verdenspeil in a swirl of oblivion.

A grunt left your throat, then your ears picked up on Baldrick’s noise of discomfort—he had landed on his arm funny, but nothing seemed broken.

“Are you okay?” you helped him to his feet.

The boy nodded, eyes fixed on the fallen dagger a few paces across the room.

There was a pedestal in the centre of the room, a keyhole of a four-pronged star in the centre made for the dagger on the floor—the dagger Sigrid gave you.

You stood up to take a better look at Mímir’s Tomb. The circular room gleamed silver and gold from the armours of giant statuesque figures chained onto open tombs built into the walls. Their design was similar to the Valkyrie armour you now wore, only cruder from warring, from wear and tear. That revelation gave you pause for concern, if there were signs of use, there may be signs of the life that once inhabited the armour.

Baldrick walked over to the dagger, then on his tippy toes, wedged it into the keyhole slot and turned it counter-clockwise. Just as Sköll and Hati chase after the sun and moon in endless circles, the room began to turn like a drum racing downhill.

The spinning was so intense you feared you’d throw up. Baldrick held onto the pedestal and kept his eyes shut. From the ceiling, a contraption lowered a stone platform. As it descended, the room began to stop spinning, and the armoured figures began to stir.

“Baldrick,” you ushered him close to you, shielding him with your arm as he grabbed your cyan blue cloak that swept the floor. The swish and swing of blades being drawn emanated from the sheaths of the armoured figures.

You swallowed, holding your breath. Fingers birthing blue aura in anticipation of a fight. Then, with a loud and deafening thud, the platform locked onto a triangular dip in the floor, a head floating in a curtain of magic and light.

One armoured figure took a step, and as you raised your hand defensively, Baldrick whispered: “No.”

The armoured figure cluttered to the floor, scattering into hundreds of pieces—as did all the others. A helmet rolled to Baldrick’s feet, ornate, a golden set of horns shaped like an elk’s. With childish wonder, fear wiped off his face and he picked up the helmet and put it on, turning to smile with bright teeth at you.

You laughed, unexpectedly and wholeheartedly. It was a rare gift to see pure, unrestrained joy come from nothing. This little boy in front of you carried a connection, his magic made a home in yours, made itself feel like it had been there for years, like it was beyond familiarity. You knew he was manipulating your emotions, perhaps without even realising it, but for some inexplicable reason, you weren’t worried.

The wisps of your magic died down, then the head spoke: “I’d recognise that magic anywhere… You’ve been touched by the Stone of the Ancients.”

You turned to the head, an opal gemstone for one eye, and sky blues like your own for the other. His hair was grey and long, worn with Viking braids and beads knotted on the ends of a few dreaded strands. His beard was thin and braided, tribal tattoos on either side of his temple in the form of roots of the World Tree.

“Mímir,” you said.

“The one and only,” he winked. “Come closer, let me have a better look at you. My eyesight isn’t what it was, being locked away in the cold dark for over a millennia will do that to you.”

You and Baldrick moved closer to Mímir’s line of sight.

“Your eye, it is as mine,” you said.

“A gift from my sister,” he said with a wistful tinge. His focus turned to Baldrick with interest. Recognition. “You, boy, I know you—of you. Your essence is blindingly radiant. So much power for such a small thing. Frightening. World spanning. You—Yes! It is you that I dreamt of all those years ago—you will war with the brother. You will be the Herald of Twilight. Herald of the end!”

Baldrick did not react to the words that he heard, he only blinked slow, lethargic with growing fatigue.

You instinctively wrapped a protective arm around the boy's frame, taking a step back. Mímir turned his sights back on you, squinting. “And you… You are the last of the Himmel Kvinner. Your fate will be that of tragedy and truth. Love and despair. Life and the expanse of space between living and death. You are the Forgotten One.” He quieted in contemplation, sighing deeply with burden. “I see. Yes, I see now. The prince… he sleeps, does he not?”

“H-How do you know that?”

Mímir smirked, “My knowledge is infinite. I see all. And I see nothing. That is why the Allfather trapped me here. Once, I could see through the very weavings of time itself. Beyond realms. Beyond the limits of my body. Now I see remembrances of what I once dreamt. I am but a fraction of what I was. But even beheaded, I am still the wise Mímir, the first to drink from the well of knowledge. The first to be granted the vision of the Stone of the Ancients. The last pureblood heir to the House of Bölþorn the Just.” At the invocation of his house and title, Mímir’s skin turned to a proud, Jotun blue and then back to pale.

“Then you know of a way to wake him?”

“I see patience is lost on you. A millennia and my first guests cannot even humour an old man the chance to goad.” The head laughed, bemused by your dismissal of his grand introduction. “Very well. No, I cannot help you, but I keep the one who does.”

“What do you mean by keep?”

“Her reliquaries, your boy here immobilised them just by thinking it.”

“The statues?”

“Yes. Twenty-seven suits of armour for the twenty-seven pieces of my sister that Bor hacked with his axe.”

“Your sister?”

“Bestla.”

“Bor did that to Bestla? I thought they were lovers. Why would he do that his own wife?”

“Wife?” Mímir shouted the word as if it were a preposterous thing. “Ha! Is that the spin the Æsir are using now? Wiping away the blood from their history books, I see. Bestla was never Bor’s wife! Not by choice. She was his peace treaty. His flesh and blood armistice with the Jotuns after the Dark Alliance threatened to end the war; with him on the losing side!” His real eye flashed, lips moving with no sound. A spell had been cast. “I’ll let her speak for herself.”

Torches burst in blue flame. Suddenly, Jotun script burned to life, etching itself into the wall beside the moving tapestries of what could only be living history.

“It has been a long time since I ever saw our histories unfold on these walls,” Mímir sighed, half sadness, half gratitude. “It will be a refreshing change of pace, having someone know of the true story.”

Baldrick, drawn to the magic, began to read aloud, his tongue picking up the Jotun language with fluency. Dust, once housed in the shattered pieces of armour, began to materialise into a cloud. It roped around the room in an orb-like shape, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

Then, after Baldrick read the final inscription aloud, a piercing pain brought you to your knees. The mark of Odin sparking with life, a scream leaving your lips. Somehow the mark was interfering with the spell Baldrick had just unknowingly cast.

“Oh, no-no-no-no!” Mímir panicked. “You were marked. Quick, boy, grab one of the reliquary’s swords and hold it over the flame. Sorry, lass, but this will sting, we have to sever the mark’s connection to Odin’s magic.”

Baldrick rushed to do as Mímir said, his little feet working hurriedly. When he reached you, the sword that was too big for his grip glowed with the heat of the blue flames, threatening to bring a whole new kind of pain

“What will happen to me once the Ægishjalmar is gone?” you squeezed the raw muscle near your mark. Your mind flashed to the battle in the throne room again. To the frostbite of unbridled power.

“I know what you fear. I saw the battle in the throne room. I saw what you became because of Odin’s magic. The power you wield will be your own, I assure you, lass.” Mímir’s cadence was truthful, assured.

“Will it be dangerous?” you asked. “My magic?”

“All magic is dangerous, lass. The sooner you embrace that, the sooner you find balance.”

Baldrick searched your expression, needing to know whether to proceed or not. With a bitter taste in your mouth—partly for not wanting him to have to do something so hard, partly for your own sake—you bit down on a belt strap and nodded.

The burn was subliminal compared to having Odin’s passive magic seared out of you. It was like having a piece of you stolen without ever realising it was there to begin with. When the smell of burning flesh diffused, and the blade dropped to the ground, you felt dizzy, not as sober as before.

The magic that was denied to complete itself before was now free to continue without the resistance of Odin’s magic. The dust from the reliquaries wasn’t dust at all, they were ashes, the vestiges of Bestla.

The ashes coalesced into a physical mimicry of Bestla—and she looked every bit as fierce and beautiful as she had in the book. Tall, strong arms, midnight hair, long and thick to her tailbone. The red of her Jotun eyes was diluted, cloudy. And the tribal markings painted on her face and arms was of a powdered white. She was a vision. Demanding. Anomalistic.

“Ahhh,” Bestla breathed in deep, taking in air till her lungs promised to burst. “It has been ages since I felt the cold. The air. Light.” She laughed in glee. Slightly mad, but she was excused of that twistedness.

“And it is good to see you again, dear sister,” Mímir laughed.

Bestla turned quick on her heels, a stretch to her cheeks from her growing smile, “Mim? I never imagined I’d ever see you again.” She crossed over to his side of the room in two quick strides. Her fingers hovered over the jewel he had in one of his eye cavities. “Who did this to you?”

“Your son,” he said, downcast.

Bestla let out a contemplative hum, not in the least surprised, “So, he turned out just like his father.”

“I tried my best, but he had too much of his father’s pride, too much of that Æsir spirit.”

The giantess turned to you and then the boy, “You have finally come.”

You staggered to your feet, patience fully wilted, “It seems, every portal I jump through, every new world I discover, and every new person I meet, knows of what I am and what I will do before I do. I must admit, it is quite frustrating.”

“I can only imagine. You travelled all this way for hope, for a way to wake the one you love. Love… It has been a while since I felt its aura. It is beautiful on you. And waning. As is the construct of time,” Bestla closed the distance between the two of you, her height seeming doubled from up close. You opened your mouth to speak, but she countered with a raised hand. “Yes, I know of a way to wake him.” She waved her hand and your memories of the throne room battle were pulled from your mind, displayed in illusions of light and shadow. “When Odin cast the incantation, he unleashed your full potential. That potential is as mine was, once.” She waved her hand again and the illusion turned to that of a blue box, slithering with light. The Jotun Artefact that gave you your power. “This is the Stone of the Ancients. One of six. My people guarded it for generations. Its essence was intertwined with the very fabric of Jotunheim, as a heart does to a body, so when the Æsir stole it from our temples to use as a weapon against the Vanir during the First Great War, our planet fell to ruin. Ruin and endless winters.”

The illusion showed the decimation of spring and summer from the unimaginable beauty of a Jotunheim you had never seen before. A Jotunheim of peace and vibrancy that was all wiped away for the frozen tundra you knew all too well.

“You mean… it was Bor that started the war between the Giants and the Asgardians?” you asked.

“Aye, lass, the very same Tyrant King,” Mímir said. “Your dark prince isn’t the heir to a murderous legacy, he is the heir of the wronged. Heir to desolation as long as the Stone of the Ancients is never returned to Jotunheim.”

“Is that why I was lead here? You want me to help you restore Jotunheim?”

Bestla and Mímir shook their heads. You knew that look. It was the look of loss.

“No, dear one, Jotunheim is lost. Forever.” She said. “Fate is a tricky thing. My brother has seen how I meet my end, and I require you to do so. I swore to have my revenge, and I will, with your help.”

“If… If I help you, you will show me how to wake Loki?”

“You already know how to,” Bestla waved her hand and replayed the moment after energy ripped from your body. Then you were gurgling on the ground, hand stretched out to touch Loki’s as he bled on the floor. Breath hitched. Pained. And then you saw something new, the magic took over your body for a moment, and free from Odin’s spell, you spoke an incantation of your own. Slivers of your magic swimming across the marble floors to latch onto Loki’s fingernails and swim up the stream of his veins to rest around his cheeks.

Baldrick’s mouth pried open, a Jotun word leaving his mouth.

Bestla continued speaking as the illusion dissolved to the image of Loki hovering on a gold curtain of light in the healing chamber: “You saved his life. Our magic, our connection to the stone is primal. It is instinct and memory and emotion. That is why I cursed the Stone before I was locked in those reliquaries. I ensured only those who would understand my pain, the depths of my betrayal, would gain the stone’s power—women. And when Odin hid the stone on earth, he never imagined it would infect those on Midgard as it did to my people. But I never imagined he’d use that as a way to experiment on the women, to make them his weapons of destruction against my own kind, all the while making them believe they were chosen. God kissed. But if he never did, then you wouldn’t be here now. Like I said, fate is a tricky thing.

“When you reached for your prince—for Loki—you weren’t simply praying to no-one, you were praying to the stone. And it heard you. So it placed him in a deep slumber as it healed him from within, but the physical was not all that was damaged. Loki is a fraught boy. Torn apart by two halves that will always be at war. And in that throne room, one half finally won, and to him, it was the wrong half. The monster he was taught to hate. The monster all children are taught to fear: the Giant. I know of a spell that will allow you to enter his mind and bring him back, but like all things—”

“It comes with a price,” you weren’t the least bit surprised, but being a pawn in everyone else’s plans was becoming a thorn in your side. “And if I refuse?”

Bestla gave you an apologetic look, “Child, I said fate was tricky, I never said we got to choose.” She waved her hand one last time, and suddenly you were levitating from the floor, vision going black, ears ringing.

“Do not fret, when you awake, the answer will be as familiar to you as walking,” Bestla promised. “For familiar magic tends to want to be understood.”

Then, nothing. Just black and hard floor.

~Heimdall

When Heimdall and the rest of his companions reached the side of the mountain where the entrance to Mímir’s Tomb was, it was already sunrise the next day.

Moving his hands close to one another in the way of the old ways, he spoke in his native Vanir tongue, using blood to smear his handprint on a circular plate centred on the door.

In short order, the doors pried apart in slow motions, dust and the smell of ancients flooding out of the tomb.

“There is a chance the protection seals are still in place, enter with caution, and with weapons drawn,” he told the others as they disappeared into the maw of the tomb.

Heimdall gasped when he saw the reliquary statues broken to pieces. Whoever had done this possessed strong magic, but it couldn’t have been Y/N’s, she was still weak from the leeching, still new to her power. The pedestal where Mimir’s head had been laid to rest was bare, no sign of the one-eyed prophet anywhere.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Mímir? How? It’s not like a head can just sprout legs and walk away,” Fandral said. “I must say, I am a little disappointed. Missing the chance to see one of the last living survivors of the Great War, it does sting a little. Imagine all the secrets her held.”

“Could we have trusted them?” Sif said with some restraint, nowhere near as enthusiastic as Fandral. “He was locked away for a reason. Probably because he was dangerous.”

“And now he is gone,” Volstagg said.

“A problem for another day,” Heimdall said.

“Over here!” Hogun shouted from a dark corner of the room, behind the centre pedestal, dagger locked in place. “I found them.”

“Them?” Sif ran in Hogun’s direction and Heimdall followed.

On the floor was Y/N, out cold, but alive. Her essence was changed, almost exonerated of another’s influence, yet not completely alone. There was something else banging around in the softest, more quiet parts of her magic. Something new. He noticed then that her brand was cauterised from her flesh. Next to her was a boy, strange, bearing a hefty presence. He was the wielder of the magic that destroyed the protective seals on the reliquaries. For someone so young, that was unfounded. What was his connection to Y/N, Heimdall wondered.

He picked her off the floor while Hogun carried the boy. With ease creeping into his chest, he said, “Let’s go home.”

#loki #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki odinson x y/n #tom hiddleston imagine

32 notes · View notes

scroll-of-thought · 3 years

Note

Yo the post you reblogged and mentioned the norse mythology and times, Jonathan Crawford, is amazing. I've always wanted to learn something more about runes and general norse stuff and mythology. Do you know of any decent sources or books or something else for learning about Norse... anything? I just want to learn something.

I have good news and bad news. The bad news is I can’t help with runes. In fact, no one can. The truth, historically speaking, is we don’t know anything mystical about the runes. We speculate that some people cast them for divination, but the accounts are iffy at best, and we have no idea what they meant. We’re not even 100% sure the names of all the runes, and our best guess comes from an old Finnish nursery rhyme and linguistic reconstructions of what those names might have sounded like several hundred years prior. Whenever you see rune concordance charts, just take them with a heavy pinch of salt and know that they’re probably heavily speculative, totally modern, and someone’s personal interpretation based on who knows what. That’s generally the way of it when it comes to all Norse mysticism, so be extra careful of anyone who says they know runes or Norse magic.

Good news, I can totally help with the other Norse knowledge.

There are generally 2 main books historically. The Poetic Edda and The Prose Edda. Both are compilations of Norse stories with a lot of overlap, but the Prose Edda was written by Snorri Sturluson around 1220 and his some... interesting bits added in. And you can easily see the Christian and classical influences that worked their way into Snorri’s book, so I tend to stick to The Poetic Edda, but reading both isn’t a bad idea just to see the differences and get your head around the stories.

The Edda’s don’t cover EVERY Norse myth, but they are a major source, and The Poetic Edda has about three dozen poems in it. I would obviously recommend Dr. Crawford’s translation of The Poetic Edda. He put a lot of care and attention into making it an easy to read modern translation while maintaining the imagery and feel of the original Norse version.

The next type of story to look into would be Sagas. Sagas are typically stories about Norse heroes and kings. You might have heard of a couple from pop culture without knowing they’re originally sagas. Like the saga of Ragnar Lothbrok, which gets used in a lot of Viking shows and movies. Sagas are similar to Greek stories of heroes in terms of importance to mythology, and there are some really interesting ones.

I’m not super knowledgeable on sagas. I’ve only read a few in full and I don’t know how credible the translations were. I did get The Saga of the Volsungs translated by Dr. Crawford for Christmas from my inlaws, but I haven’t had time to read it in full yet. Still, it’s the same quality I expect from him.

Another good book that isn’t source material, but was really well researched would be Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman. Yeah, that Neil Gaiman! I guess while he was doing research for American Gods he probably dove pretty deep into the research. Or maybe he’s just had an interest in Norse stories. Either way, an interesting take on a lot of the classic stories that’s easy to digest.

Anyhow, as is tradition, that’s a wall of text. I hope it’s a helpful wall of text, and if you have any questions or anything, just let me know :)

5 notes · View notes

hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Whatever Your Heart Desire

Harald+Fake Prophet! Reader (Vikings Era)

The Ambitious King

Prologue

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

As I have promised, this is the entire part of the brief teaser I had pubblished!

I am low key... very very nervous about it, because let me tell you... I am worried when I write fics for new characters, even more because of the content and ‘length’ of it, so I really REALLY hope I did my best.

As always: feedback makes our heart beast faster and our hands writer faster, it also makes us better and more experienced, so be sure to leave a comment or a reblog with something writte.

And if you want to be extra and help us writers in our free adventure, you mgiht buy us a symbolic coffee over HERE!

SUMMARY: After Harald's first visit, he has kept on coming to your hut, but he isn't the only one, as one day you found a familiar face in your hut, searching for Harald's gold, setting an entire plan in motion.

And you are only left to accept Harald's proposal.

WORDS: 12 K

WARNINGS: Dark Themes, Attemped and Mention of Rape, Graphic Description of A Poisoning Attempt, Harald Being A Cranky Old Man, HIstorically Inaccurate and Not Following the Series’ Timeline (although it is set after Halfdan’s and Astrid’s deaths!).

You didn’t worry as you saw a horse being left in front of your house.

Harald had come to visit you every Thursday since your first ‘prophecy’ to him, to gain the knowledge of his future and to know the mistakes of his past.

And today was indeed Thursday.

No matter how much you didn’t trust fully the king, his money was very much welcome in your home, no matter the fact that you were walking over a thin line, constantly risking to be discovered for the fake prophet you were.

You hadn’t pleasant words for him, because if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to properly make him believe that you were truly foreseeing his future.

Because you knew men like Harald: their future wouldn’t have ever been as successful as they wished it to be.

So, the first thing that you had told Harald when he had come to you again, after your first session, was that he had to focus on himself and not on his external ‘enemies’, which had made the blame away from him.

‘You might want the world, but you can’t have it without feeling well with yourself first’ you had explained, as you pushed him down onto the chair he was raising himself up.

And he had looked at you as if you had revealed some hidden truth.

He had handed you a hefty amount of cash, after that, and the following day he had proclaimed that he’d be staying in Vestfold, after his return from the war, instead of trying to take again Kattegat.

And although you could hear the familiar dissent through his earls, you knew that his people were happy to have the king back for a bit.

Even simply because they had to pay less the war taxes.

You knew that war had taken quite the toll on the people of Vestfold and you, on your own, had tried to help a few of the poorer with donations, although you had to admit that selling medical herbs and your own medical knowledge didn’t exactly permit you a luxurious life.

Harald’s money were indeed quite useful.

But although you were well aware that being Harald’s little ‘seer’ was quite fruitful, you knew that you couldn’t exactly last for much more than a season, even more when Harald wouldn’t see immediately the fruits of your suggestions.

He was an ambitious and impetuous man.

He wouldn’t wait to see what he had sowed.

He’d prefer to burn up the entire camp.

Hence, you had been trying to spare some coins to move away at the first signs of Harald’s disbelief in your methods.

Powerful men were downright dangerous.

Even more when they had a personal vendetta against women.

Your mother had known that all too well.

But till now, Harald had been nothing more than a lapdog, more than willing to endure your tongue-lashings in hope that they might win him new kingdoms and riches.

Poor fool.

He had already enough of that, alongside glory and fame.

And yet he searched for more.

He didn’t know that the Gods always frowned upon those who reached further than They allowed.

And eventually they’d strike them down for that.

You didn’t need to be a seer to see that Harald’s fatal flaw would have been his end.

And no matter what sweet words you spoke in his ear, destiny wouldn’t change.

Nobody could escape theirs.

You felt your head full with those thoughts, still, and pushed them away as you went to caress Harald’s horse, a soft white mare that immediately softened under your touch, as you questioned what had made Harald choose such a less threatening company, since he usually would come to you with his black stallion.

But you didn’t think too much of the horse, simply collecting store information in your mind.

What would you tell Harald, today?

That he shouldn’t underestimate the power of guilt he felt for having killed his brother?

That he had to finally confront the fact that he had reached the purpose he had set for himself, but it was still not enough for those around him?

Or that he fucking should stop pushing the blame on anyone but himself?

But you halted immediately as you moved to the threshold of the door, smelling a softer perfume than the one Harald wore naturally on his skin, something that brought you back to a shop you had visited earlier on your week.

The seamstress’ store.

Hence you weren’t surprised to find Jorun, the seamstress’ only son, who helped her out in the shop, inside your hut.

He was bit younger than you, but quite built and you couldn’t hide your uneasiness as you found him in your house, because one thing was to let Harald in, a dangerous man, but with an honorable conscience…

… and another was to let a boy like Jorun in.

An uncomfortable shiver run through your spine, as you tried to keep your breath even, comforting yourself and slapping a soft smile on your face.

You weren’t unused to finding guest in your house, but they certainly didn’t look as if they had been caught red-handed as Jorun was, looking through your herbs’ jars, a few crushed at his feet.

And you were quickly able to understand why Jorun was there.

You had spent quite the sum of money at the seamstress, a few days ago, the only vanity you had allowed with Harald’s money, ordering a few furs in case you were forced to run in the further North, and a dress, a pretty dress because you had fallen in love with the fabric, and asked Vidgis, the seamstress, to realize a dress for you with it.

Jorun had, probably, overheard your conversation and had formed this strange idea that you had gained quite a big sack of money for your services to the crown, and he had thought about stealing from you.

He knew where you lived.

He knew that you hadn’t the security measures many kept inside of the city, thinking that nature and whatever magic you wielded might would have protected you.

And he knew that you were a woman, easy to overcome, in case you came home early.

Like it had just happened.

He had lost his father in Harald’s many wars for conquering lands, and you knew that Vidgis had been struggling with her own shop.

Not many had enough wealth to buy a new dress, he certainly didn’t.

And he thought of taking what he thought was rightfully his.

In the end the money that Harald was paying you were the same ones that he paid monthly to him.

“If you had asked me, I would have given you the money” you breathed out, as you shifted against the threshold, aware that you hadn’t much choice, because if you had chosen to run away, he’d have laid waste to the hut and more importantly the few memories that you kept close to your heart “… I can still give you the money”.

And before you knew it, he was onto you, a knife at your throat, as you pleaded with him not to make any rushed decision.

Had Vidgis told her, she would have gladly given her the money she needed.

She would have paid straightforward the dress to help the woman.

But Vidgis was a proud woman, exactly like Harald.

But her son had had enough.

“Then show me where you stashed it” he intimated you, and you tried to push yourself a bit away from the blade of the knife at your throat, because you knew that with the way Jorun trembled, he could have made a big mistake.

This boy wasn’t cruel.

He hadn’t been born that way.

But hunger and vengeance had done this to him.

“They are under the fourth tile of my bedroom floor” your mother had taught you that: people could devastate an house and look through every trunks, but they wouldn’t have ever raised tiles to see what they hid.

Hence, they hid the most amazing of treasures.

“Then to your bedchamber, lady” he grimaced at you, as he led you through the small room, throwing you onto the bedroom, something for which you were grateful since his grip was so strong that it hurt you but he kept the knife unsheathed as a promise and he went to search for the money, finding it effectively.

But it was quite less than he had expected.

You had been hiding some somewhere else, deep in the forest.

And you had no intention of giving him that.

“That can’t be all…” he protested, as he threw the small bag of money across the room, before he jumped onto you on the bed, as you tried to shriek away.

Had you been able to reach out in the nightstand, you might have found your knife, stashed in the small beside table.

And although you had no intention to stab him, you hoped to put some fear in him.

Jorun wasn’t cruel or bad intentioned.

He was desperate and angry.

And that made him extremely more dangerous than a common criminal, so you hoped that pushing him to feel more fearful would have maybe made him to back off from you.

But as you were reaching out, he pushed you down on the bed, pinning your legs under his, effectively making you cease from moving any further away from him, as you tried to move your hands to push him off your body.

But although he might have been starved and malnourished, he still managed to be an unmovable rock against you, eventually pushing one of your arms back onto the bed with one of his elbows, the bone of it pushing down on your tender skin.

You certainly would have a bruise there the following day.

“Fucking tell me where you stashed it all, you whore” he spoke, although his voice left its strength through the quote, as it became more a whine, but you just fought against him, trying your best to get through him, to push him off you “… Harald must pay you well for fucking you”.

And then his mind became suddenly sharp, as a cunning smile appeared on his face.

And a shiver went down your spine, as you froze under him.

His eyes became wicked and he lost any pretense of humanity, becoming an animal guided from pure need and rage, and before you even knew it, he ripped the front of your dress, effectively baring your chest at him.

You shrieked and fought with one hand to hide yourself from him.

As you fought with your legs to try to kick him off, finally realizing what he’d do to you.

You’d already been in such a position, and the last time you had been barely out of childhood, praying to the gods that it’d end quickly but it had just continued, as your mother’s cold body laid a few steps away from you, her eyes looking at the sky as if they were sparing you the shame of catching her daughter in that act.

You had done everything in your life to try to fight this weakness.

To avoid returning under a man.

But now, it was happening.

And Jorun moved to push his pants down, as he scrunched your dress up, freeing your hands, which moved to slap his face, effectively blinding him and you managed to make your legs escape his hold, shooting a knee up and hitting his soft skin between his legs.

Then you tried to turn away, rolling off bed, your legs lightly numb but you were able to cradle as you felt Jorun screaming in pain.

If you could reach the door you’d been safe, you could close the door and push some piece of furniture against it, effectively trapping Jorunn inside your room.

But before you could move past it, you were yanked by a leg and Jorun this time straight up jumped onto you, as he fell on you, pinning you to the ground under his heavy body and you heard the noise of a bone breaking, before you felt the pain of it.

And with Jorun over you, you weren’t able to move away or try to free yourself from his hold, as he again scrunched up your dress, pushing his lips onto your neck, as you felt your body shaking and trembling as it all went back to that time, when a similar thing had happened.

And you closed your eyes, your body surrendering itself to the pain.

“… let me know why a king like so much sinking between your thighs, a fucking whoring bitch” and you closed your eyes, holding a tight breath in your chest.

And then you heard a scream, a male scream and you thought that you had been mistaking your memory with the present.

It sometimes happened to you that you’d forget where you were, because suddenly the past would overtake you and you’d be left in the memory of your shame.

But it wasn’t, and soon the weight of Jorun was pushed off your body, and you turned worried that he might have chosen to do something worse to you, but as you opened softly your eyes, you found out that you weren’t alone anymore with Jorun, but king Harald was holding him down against the ground, as the boy had done with you on the bed.

You tried to shift your weight in order to bring yourself back on your feet, but you leaned on the wrong arm, the pain of the broken bone inside of it making you hiss painfully, enough to attract Harald’s attention, who knocked out quickly Jorun slamming his head against your bedside table, before he came to you.

And more out of instinct than anything you pushed yourself away, fear shining in your eyes, as the king took it in, gently crouching down to you to calm your fear, offering you an hand, and waiting for you to accept it.

He pushed a blanket away from the trunk it was placed upon, and he gave it to you, to cover your naked breasts, not daring a simple look.

Then he helped you up, steadying you against him, but immediately leaving you as soon as he felt your discomfort, going to patrol over Jorun passed out body, a hint of blood coming out from his broken nose.

Hadn’t he tried to rape you a few moments before, you would have felt bad for him.

“I do think that you know him” mumbled Harald, slapping his face to see whether he was simply faking being passed out or he was truly, as you moved past him to check his pupils, finding out he had effectively passed out.

“He is Jorun, the seamstress’ son” you replied, tightly, as you tried to move over to the kitchen, where you had some herbs for the pain that was shooting through your arm, as if part of the bone had pierced the skin.

“Was he taking your measurements?” humored darkly Harald, following you, something for which you were thankful because he reached out for you to the taller shelves, as you showed him the herbs that would help you feel back to normal.

You proceeded to boil them as Harald took a seat on the kitchen table, as if you hadn’t a passed out boy in your room.

“He was trying to find the money you give me for my suggestions” you confessed, thinking that it was definitely not worth hiding anything, even more because Harald didn’t seem a man who liked being lied around.

It had already happened to him too many times.

“… then he isn’t only a rapist, but he is also a thief” he mused as he almost seemed to think about it “… I’ll bring him to justice, don’t fear my lady”.

As much as you hated the thought of letting Jorun go unpunished, you knew that having either his hand or his prick cut off for thievery and assault wouldn’t have done him or his mother any good.

“Don’t” you mumbled softly “… it won’t look good that you punish a rightful citizen of Vestfold for a witch, like me”.

Because although people wouldn’t certainly reject your coin, they hadn’t accepted you.

And you knew what they called you when you turned your shoulders to them.

And you knew what they said already about Harald for coming to you, every week.

Commoners could come to you to know whether their harvest would be good or not.

But their king?

It was shameful for him to be controlled so easily by a foreigner.

“… you know what he tried to do to you” he sent you a pointed look.

“I know” you mumbled, once the boiler whistled, signaling that your herbs had finished being boiled and you threw them in a bin nearby, grimacing at the strong smell in the pan, downing the beverage in one go “… but it wouldn’t… it’d make them do worse things to me”.

Your mother had taught you to act like a shadow in case things like this happened.

The villagers wouldn’t ever accept the meddling of a foreigner in their affairs.

“I can’t simply let him go” he spoke, almost as if he was seriously worried about you “… he would come back here and I am sure that this time he won’t try any attempt of courtesy”.

“You call almost raping a woman a ‘curtesy’?” you questioned him with harsh eyes, as he simply replied to you with a rough smirk on his face as if to say ‘then you know how much you are risking’.

“I won’t certainly leave you alone, at least for tonight” he proclaimed, As he moved from the chair he had sat onto, adjusting himself as if he owned the place, a sight you didn’t like “I’ll sleep with you, tonight, and then I’ll send some men, here”.

“That’d be a waste”.

You couldn’t understand why Harald felt this need to protect you.

He certainly valued you as some kind of trusted advisor.

But this didn’t justify the intense need of protecting you that he had gained after Jorun’s attack.

“… who is the king, (Y/N)?” he muttered tightly between his teeth, as if he didn’t expect you to deny him “My word is law”.

But you were a woman full of surprises.

“Because you are the king, you shouldn’t stay here” you retorted tightly “… I can handle myself”.

He shot a quick look at your locked bedchamber, where Jorun was sleep, as if to say: ‘are you sure’.

“I’ll stay here” he seemed unmovable and you believed that not even shoving him out of your house would have worked.

But at the same time, you didn’t want to shove him out.

“Do whatever you want, my king” you simply bit your lips, as you moved towards another small cabinet in your small kitchen, feeling Harald’s sharp eyes on you, meanwhile you got a few gauzes out of it, to properly push the bone in its rightful place, helping yourself with thin layers of wood.

Once you were done, you had a bit of relief, as the broken arm slung from your neck to keep its position steady, meanwhile Harald observed you carefully, almost fascinated by your knowing movements, helping you once you moved to the table to lay down your broken arm.

He passed you the gauze, as you pushed the bone in the rightful place, lightly number by the herbs, but you still felt tears coating your eyes, and Harald gently dried them with his rough thumb, without uttering a word, for which you were thankful.

Once you were finished, you both heard noises from you room and you turned to each other, now realizing that Jorun had woken up and before you could move to do anything, Harald lunged to the door, effectively coming face to face with a rather angry Jorun.

Whose face went straight up white as he took in his king.

“My… my king” he stammered, as Harald just looked at him with an annoyed look, before grabbing him by the scruff of his head, as he dragged him away, meanwhile Jorun protested, pleading and begging.

“I shouldn’t be the one who you need to address” muttered darkly Harald, as he sent you a light look, to make the boy know that you were the one on whose hands would come either his damnation or his safety.

“… lady… (Y/N)” he spoke softly, as he fell onto his knees, more for fear than true contrition “… I am sorry”.

“Harald… don’t…” you muttered, unable to withhold Jorun’s gaze, almost as if that pushed you to feel him again on top of you, entering the sanctuary of your legs, as your eyes shifted on Harald’s “… it is enough”.

“I don’t fucking think that it is, but… I’ll honor a lady’s word” he ushered at the boy with one last look.

And then he dragged him out, making sure that the moved onto his horse, before he released him from his glare, as you looked at the whole scene wondering what the Hel you had found yourself in.

---

“You’ll have to sleep on the floor” you mumbled as you took in the smallness of your bed.

Not that you had any intention of letting Harald sleep in your bed.

He might be a king, but he was a man.

A dangerously beautiful man.

“I have slept on worse” he mumbled, as he sat on the cold tiles, but you just shook your head, collecting a few blankets and an extra pillow for him, even going back to get some straw to make him feel better.

All mansions that Harald took upon himself, as he ushered out of the bedroom, leaving you a private moment that you took to slip in a nightgown, covering yourself with a thick fur, grateful for its warmth.

Harald had insisted, the entire night, for you to relax, but you hadn’t let him cook you dinner, since not only you had hidden a few poisonous herbs in your cabinets, but you didn’t trust him around a fire.

But still except that he had brought you anything, treating you almost as a goddess.

Something that made you blush and made your conscience heavy.

‘Why are you helping me?’ you had asked, as he washed the dishes, almost making a few crash, and destroy themselves on the ground ‘… I am nothing’.

‘You are a subject of mine’ he had answered, softly turning to you as you found yourself so close, that you could almost trace his wrinkles with the tip of your nose ‘… and you told me to take care of my subjects’.

But there was something more beneath it, lingering in his eyes, that for now you could only describe with curiosity lingering in his eyes.

And you weren’t sure it was a good thing.

As Harald came back he adjusted the straw and blankets to his own taste and then laid down there, and you took it as a cue to move yourself comfortably on top of the bed and go to sleep.

But you were sure that even ‘numbed’ with the herbs you wouldn’t have slept much.

“… if you need any more blankets, just ask me” you mumbled tightly, as you turned on the opposite side of him, hearing a grumble of assurance, as you spent the following first hour of sleep turning around in bed.

You were so unused to have somebody else in your room, that when you heard Harald’s voice you almost jumped out of bed, having forgotten for a moment that a king was sleeping on your floor.

“… (Y/N)?” it was your name and you moved to his side, worried that his old age had made him unable to move, but he looked honestly worried.

And not for himself.

“What is it?” you asked, faking a sleepy voice, but Harald didn’t buy it in the slightest.

“… are you cold?” he teased you, and you huffed at it.

“No, I am not”.

“Then what is making you roll around that bed, like a bear in lethargy” he retorted with a charming smile, that almost made you want to smack him across the face “… are you having trouble sleeping?”.

“… maybe” there wasn’t any need to lie.

The evidence was in front of his eyes.

And Harald would have probably annoyed you to death, hadn’t you given him an answer.

“Want to talk it out?”.

“I thought I was the advisor”.

“Something horrible has happened to you, I wouldn’t blame you, for…”.

“Honestly, you aren’t the person I’d like to talk about that with” you replied, as you turned far away from him, hoping that your bitterness would get him to leave you alone “… hope it didn’t offend you”.

“… just… it wasn’t the first time it happened to you, didn’t it?”.

You rolled on your back, focusing on the roof to shield yourself away from the memory of what had happened years ago.

“It is none of your business”.

Although you knew that with your words you had already said enough.

“I saw the way your body went taunt and still, under him and I…”.

“You knew it because you did the same Jorun tried to do to me”.

It certainly didn’t take a genius to know that men like Harald didn’t care for a ‘no’.

You knew it on your own skin.

It hadn’t been a normal soldier who had taken advantage of you.

“… it is war” he spoke, as if it justified the act, but you could almost taste the shame in those words, as if he wasn’t truly convinced of them “… it is different”.

“Not for the women” you mumbled, biting on your lips to keep you in that bed and not on the ground that ten years before had stolen your innocence “… it is always the same for us: laying on our back, hoping that the pain will be soon over as we feel the weight of our shame onto us”.

“(Y/N)” he tried to call you out, but you were too in deep in that memory.

“… pleading to be left alone, shrieking away and yet, pinned under your sweaty and horrible…”.

Harald’s hand reached out for yours, effectively pushing you out of your trance, as you opened the eyes you hadn’t realized you had closed, shocked back to reality by the sudden touch.

Your breath was heavy and for a few minutes you needed to calm yourself down.

As Harald moved himself so that he could sit on the bed, without touching you.

“… I know that…” he tried to speak, but your gaze was lost in the woods of your own mind “… I am sorry”.

“It doesn’t make up for anything…” you commented, breathing deeply as you brought your knees under you, closer to your stomach, which was starting to hurt due to the agitation in it, the tense muscles clenching almost painfully “… nobody will give me back my innocence”.

Harald seemed shocked by that as you turned to him, with your eyes teary and he reached forward, almost as if it was the most natural thing, brushing them away, much more softly than you had believed those rough hands to be.

And before you knew it, it all fell down.

The pain and hurt you had been feeling made you crash as you slumped against Harald, his arms gently circling you, as they didn’t understand whether you wanted to be hugged closed or to push him away.

But you quickly solved it for him, reaching out completely, as you felt your entire body finish its energy as you ended up falling in a dark hole.

---

You woke up with a heated body against you.

And for a moment you thought that you had gone back to the time you and your mother would sleep together in the single bed you owned, to warm up, since during many winter nights you hadn’t enough wood for a fire.

But soon, you felt something scratchy against your face, immediately realizing that you had a male beside you and as you raised yourself, careful about the heavy broken arm on your chest, as you took in Harald, still asleep next to you.

He looked so peacefully that you gently shook off a few strands of hair that had exited his tight braid, as your hands lingered further on his face, as you weren’t able to push yourself to leave that male handsomeness alone.

And eventually he woke up.

Much to your and his surprise, as you immediately moved further away, acting as if nothing had happened.

As if you hadn’t slept next to the king, breath to breath.

Your cheek was slightly irritated by his beard, having slept so close to him that you had been almost in his lap.

Something that just made you blush further.

And to his own advantage Harald didn’t ask you anything of it, once he woke up, meanwhile you adjusted your hair in a quick braid, trying to look busy as the man next to you moved to stretch himself a bit and then collect the leather straps and his chest piece he had had discarded to sleep more comfortably.

You both moved uncomfortably around each other, both unused to being close to another, but you couldn’t help but laugh a bit for the way the king seemed so awkward and embarrassed.

It eventually made you gain the upper hand, after the outburst of the previous night.

… which made you want to almost bang your head against a wall.

If there was one thing that your mother always said, it was to never show your weakness to men: they’d either treat you like an idiot or they’d take advantage of it.

But Harald simply didn’t want to talk about it, looking at you like a lost puppy looking for direction.

And you decided to spare him, asking him whether he’d stay for breakfast, something for which his stomach replied for him.

‘I don’t need my power to know that you are quite famished, my king’.

He had just shook his head away from you, laughing lightly.

‘… and by the way you men are either hungry or…’ flashes of the previous night appeared in your mind ‘… horny’.

‘You don’t have a high opinion of my gender, do you?’ he had replied, softly, not a reprimand, but almost a different question from the one he had uttered, under his words.

That you couldn’t answer.

‘Can you blame me?’.

Your algid voice caught him unprepared and he just shook his head, lightly before he moved to the kitchen, leaving you the privacy of pushing on a proper dress, and to freshen up yourself as you were solely able to rub painfully the water on the zones that Jorun had touched.

You’d also need to change your gauzes, and to check whether the bone was starting to straighten itself or not.

You hoped it would, because you needed very much your hands for your work, and if not for that… you surely needed them to defend yourself, because sadly, you’d be as good as dead, without a working arm.

You adjusted a few flowers in your hair to help yourself brighten your appearance, since it looked quite pale and you looked definitely as ghostly as you felt in the inside.

Swallowing bile and piercing the skin of your palms with your nails.

For a moment a tight image appeared in the mirror, a you, bloodied and bruised you.

Your eyes held none of the will of living, you had always owned.

And you turned the mirror, hiding yourself from your eyes.

You instead focused on the lovely smell you were feeling coming from the kitchen.

And then you recognized it, rushing forward as you saw Harald trying to peel a few fruits that you had in your house.

The small tin of spices in front of him, but you could already sniff that he had dipped some of it in the brew he had made, contained in a glass, and you rushed to grab it as you checked how much he had consumed, knowing that not only this spice was expensive, but you wouldn’t have found it for sure at Vestfold.

“I didn’t think it was poisonous” excused himself Harald, noticing your worry, as you moved to hide away the spice “… please tell me that it wasn’t poisonous”.

“That depends…” you mumbled, as you saw the man’s skin turn deliciously red, as he sent you a worried look, which made you smile lightly “… if you have taken too much, your old stomach might trouble you”.

“I am not as old as you think I am” he retorted grumpily, with an adorable expression of indignation “… how old do you truly think I am, little one?”.

“I don’t know…” you pondered, with a finger to your chin “… had Odin already defeated the giants when you were born or…?”.

He flipped you off and you couldn’t now stop yourself from laughing out loud, as he soon joined you, welcoming you in front of him, as you took also a fruit and a knife, feeling your stomach being quite troubled, but at least peeling would have kept your mind off.

Although you weren’t sure that it was a good idea for you to hold a knife so close to you.

Harald seemed to agree, pushing his already peeled fruit in your hands, taking the knife and the fruit away from you, as if he was completely unbothered by it all, almost used to this routine.

You let him do it, as you played around with the fruit, eventually daring for a small bite, just as the king dared to speak:

“You’ll come with me today, I’ll bring you in the hall, to be safe” his voice was a clear order, but you didn’t let it push you down.

“I can handle myself”.

“You said so too, yesterday” he mumbled now softening his tone, as his eyes moved to your broken arm, a clear weakness for you “… but I don’t think that you are in any shape to kick some ass”.

“Yet, there are other ways” you replied, tightly.

You could have hidden for a few days in the forest, it wouldn’t have been pleasurable and getting any sleep would have been impossible, but you had done it after your mother’s death, and you could do it again.

“You pointed out yesterday that you aren’t welcome in the town, so I don’t think that you can stay a few days with someone” he pushed the reality in front of your eyes, searching them as he finished the peeling of his own fruit, taking a good bite at it, as juices dirtied his beard “… and I know that you haven’t any family here”.

“Have you been doing researches on me?” your blood froze in your veins, although you tried to utter those words with as much indignation as you owned in your body.

“My earls haven’t been… happy of your presence and I had to reassure them” he looked honestly embarrassed, almost as if your tone had had its effect on him.

Harald Finehair, the toughest man in all Sweden was proving himself to be quiet tamer than you had thought.

“Did you?” he shot you a confused look “… did you reassure them that I am a true witch and not solely somebody who is here to use your money and then take your throne?”.

“You wouldn’t take my throne” his voice was now rough, but sincere “… you have this power in you, and yet you live in a hut”.

Now it was your time to blink as you lowered your head pitifully, looking at the half-bitten fruit.

“… I like my hut”.

“You don’t have the ambition to be a rebel” the arrogant affirmation made breath come out of your lungs.

You hadn’t always been like this.

You had been a happy child, puffy cheeks and soft eyes, always running away from your mother.

But something had been broken in you, a long time ago.

And you had lost all your ambition.

Although right now it shone brightly in embers.

“… excuse me, but fuck yourself, king” you mumbled, as Harald’s eyes dropped, recognizing the anger in his voice “… if you treat women like this, I now do know why they run away from you”.

You had said that to anger him, you knew it.

But Harald looked almost heartbroken at your vicious word, and lowered his own head, pushing down his knife, and piercing his hands with the core of the fruit, all it was left of it, to the point that you were sure he was going to snap it.

“You’ll come with me at the hall, today” this time it wasn’t a veiled order.

It was an order.

“… then tomorrow I’ll arrange for a guard to station here, for a few days, at least till that arm get better. If you want you may ask my healer to check on it, but I am sure that stubborn head of yours won’t allow it”.

And before you could come up with any smartass reply about your ‘stubborn head’ Harald had moved away to get his horse ready, and you were left alone, thinking about whether you had just signed over your own death sentence.

---

The ride with Harald back to the hall was quiet.

You had taken enough for a night, hoping that your staying wouldn’t prolong itself for further than that.

Although you didn’t like holding onto places, you felt comfortable and safe in your hut.

Although you weren’t sure you’d be able to wash away the stains of Jorun’s memory from your body and the tiles of your floor.

Since you didn’t have a horse and your arm was broken, you shared Harald’s.

He had to settle himself behind you over the horse, to guide the animal as you were gripped by his essence and touch.

Something that would have made you uncomfortable after what had happened, the previous day.

Harald also seemed to realize it, settling himself so that you wouldn’t have any contact unless necessary, but you couldn’t help but feel almost protected by him, as his rough manly smell, mixed with yours, probably taken meanwhile you slept together.

It felt almost good.

Lulled by the rhythmic moving of Harald’s stallion, under you, you fell asleep.

Only waking up as you felt yourself being moved off gently by the horse, as Harald held you softly in his arms.

Which you escaped immediately, looking around to see if there was anybody around as you slowly came back to your senses, simply seeing a few guards, who were extremely careful in hiding their smiles.

“I can walk” you mumbled, once you were back to your feet, as Harald nodded with a smirk on his face “I didn’t break my leg”.

“You snored, pretty loudly” he said, once you were inside, nobody there except you, since it was pretty early, and it was a market day.

“Never as your father last night” you retorted, showing him a bit of a foul mouth that surprised him, before he shook his head, amused, and brought you to a guest room, as you held tight to yourself your small bassoon.

“You are a true pain in the ass, little seer, and the worst is that you know it” he mumbled more to himself than for you, but you still gave him a light smirk “… don’t wander off, without a guard”.

“Don’t tell me what to do” you retorted effectively challenging him.

“… I would gladly have you closed in your room, but you said that it isn’t the best way to a woman’s heart, so I’ll avoid it…” why did he have to be such a smartass?

Using your own words against you.

“… and also, there isn’t much that you can do with a broken arm”.

And you showed him exactly what you could do with a single finger, before he moved off, leaving you to push yourself for comfort, as a guard came to take a stand in front of your door, asking you if you’d need any help.

‘Yeah, I’d like to erase the fact that a man tried to take advantage of me again, and that king Harald, the man I have been conning, came to rescue me and he has been taking care of me as if he cares for me’.

“No, thank you” you simply replied, with the fakest smile on your face, as you closed the door right in his face.

You passed the afternoon, basically probing at your swelling arm, as you let it out of the gauze, glad that the bone wasn’t crooked or anything, but certainly for a good month you wouldn’t have been able to use it properly.

But it was better than for it to have broken out of your skin, which was lightly bruising with broken veins of a purple color.

You dosed on it some of the lotions that you had brought with yourself, alongside a change of clothes and your spices, comforted by their familiar smell, as you decided to try to exercise a bit the arm.

But you were mostly annoyed, feeling like you had just made yourself a prisoner.

You didn’t want to go out, both fearing the judgement of the people outside and both fearing something happening to you.

Although Harald was a smartass, he was right about a broken arm being a pretty weakness.

So, you were left to your own boredom.

And your own thoughts, which was even worse.

Because now you could feel your mind spiraling.

And then a thrilling laugh woke you, from your dark thoughts.

And you moved to the door with your ear against it, as you caught another two women’s voices, as you realized that they had been talking about you.

“… the king has brought a new lady” said the voice that had laughed, light and soft, almost airy and breathy “… do you think that he kidnapped her too?”.

You already liked these people.

“No, sadly… the guards said that she is here because the king said so” mumbled a quieter but steadier voice “… which if you think might be indeed considered, kidnapping”.

“Saga! Frigg! Shut your fat mouths!” this voice was graver and you linked it to an older woman, probably their mistress, since the giggles immediately quieted “… you’ll get your tongues cut for saying that”.

“… Ingrid! Just let us have a bit of fun! At least as long as the master isn’t home!” complained the softer girl, who you thought was Saga, because the second one replied, lightly:

“Saga is right! We should enjoy our freedom for a bit, since he’ll stay the entire day at the market”.

“He has been low key spending more and more time away from here…” pondered Saga, not that I am complaining, I can do my chores with more ease”.

And the girls continued on chirping in about Harald.

Meanwhile you couldn’t help but realize that Harald had been acting on your suggestions.

‘Stay with your people, show yourself around and share their burdens’ you had told him, on your first sessions ‘… that won’t make them see you as an unknown king, but you’ll be their king and they’ll be loyal to you, for sure’.

He had seriously… been following your suggestions.

And you felt your heart chirping as the girls outside of the doors, at that.

And again, the want to smack yourself across the face came back.

In the end, you’d have gotten nothing from keeping up with that overthinking and decided to open lightly the door, gaining a few ‘oh’s from the ladies waiting outside, who tried to move themselves further than they had been a few minutes, to hide their own spying.

The older one, Ingrid you thought, immediately pushed herself forward, in her lean and tall form, her hair peppered with grey and her eyes tired, and asked you if you needed anything, taking in your discarded figure and more importantly your limp arm.

A dark glare was shared between Saga and Frigg as they took it in.

“Ahem… not really, I just…” you felt awkward, since it had been quite some time since you had last been able to chat without contracting prices or defending yourself.

The best talks you had had in quite some time, although you weren’t proud to admit it, were with Harald.

“… is your arm hurting you, lady?” asked the blonde girl, lightly curvy and with puffy cheeks, something that resembled the Saxon definition of an angel, and you were able to link the name Saga to her, as her soft tone completely wrapped around you.

“A bit, but I took some herbs to numb the pain” you explained, glad that you could answer question.

“… did you fall from a horse?” asked Frigg instead, a pretty brunette girl, the smallest of the three but with a fire in her eyes that brought her to shine as bright as a star “… it seems serious”.

“Not too much, actually, I was lucky the bone didn’t break out of my skin” you explained as you withhold her gaze, to make her understand that it hadn’t been Harald.

Because that had been the question in her eyes.

And you couldn’t help but find endearing her worry.

Maybe if you had met more people like her, you would have liked spending more time with them, instead of hiding in the full nature.

“… do you want us to get some gauze and wooden bars to help you straighten it up?” asked Ingrid, eager to help, almost as if she was used to being ordered around and she thought it wasn’t ordinary not to be commanded by Harald’s guests.

“Ah, thank you, but I am mostly letting it out to avoid the skin being too dry and having blood problems later” you explained, but Ingrid’s worry didn’t look lessened in the slightest ad you asked her to get you some lotion, which seemed to make her extremely happy, as you felt Saga’s eyes on your limp limbs.

“Can I touch it?” asked Saga, pointing to your limb, as Frigg lightly decked her on her arm “Ouch!”.

“Sorry, my lady, my sister doesn’t think before talking”.

You looked at the surprised, because they didn’t look like sisters in the slightest: whereas Saga was puffy and soft, Frigg was tight-wounded and sharp, both beautiful but as distant as the sun and moon.

Frigg seemed to finally understand your surprise at that news and blushed lightly, before elbowing her sister, who spurred on croaked.

“My family took in Frigg, when her mother died”.

Your gaze immediately softened as Frigg, lowered her head, something similar to shame on her face.

“… I am sorry to hear that” you mumbled, gently offering your uninjured arm to the smaller girl, who seemed surprised by your gentleness “… I have also lost my mother, ten winter ago, I can imagine how difficult it can be”.

And for a minute you and Frigg were brought together in some kind of magical spell.

Your eyes sharing respect for another survivor.

And then Saga touched your swollen arm, making you hiss as Frigg pulled her eyes to the roof above you.

“That’s so cool!” commented Saga, as she lifted her eyes to you, seeing that you weren’t exactly comfortable “… sorry”.

“Saga wished to become a healer…” mumbled Frigg, justifying her sister, as she brought her a bit away from you “… or a torturer”.

“I did! But…” her eyes suddenly became lightly lost “… father said I am not very smart”.

You couldn’t help but dig your nails in the soft skin of your palm, as you heard that.

“Well, you don’t need to be smart for being a healer” you mumbled softly “… you just need a good teacher”.

Saga’s eyes brightened a bit, as a small smile appeared on Frigg’s face.

“I am not a proper healer, but I can teach you a few things” you proposed softly “… you can help me band up my arm”.

“I wouldn’t suggest that” Frigg commented “… lady, she is particularly clumsy”.

“Well, first of all: there is no need to call me lady, just (Y/N)” you insisted “… and believe me there isn’t much damage she could do, since it is already broken”.

---

And although you had to admit that Saga hadn’t the most careful touch, she learned quickly and moved even more, having your arm bandaged ever quicker than you could do, as Frigg observed around the room, looking curious, but justifying it as checking if you needed anything.

And you let her do it, since you didn’t have anything dangerous…

… laying around, at least.

Then the girls gossiped a bit with you, something that made you almost feel normal and you were more than happy to indulge them in your silly talks, as they laughed at your surprise when you heard the scandalous rumors of the town that had never let you in.

Till Harald walked in.

And then both Frigg and Saga moved to their feet, bowing at the king, almost as if they didn’t know whether to stay with you and have some fun or to move away, now that Harald was there.

But Harald solved it for them.

“Don’t you have chores to do?” he asked simply, and the two women excused themselves scurrying off, as you moved to send him an annoyed stare “… they are servants”.

“They brightened my dull afternoon” you replied with a sharp tongue.

“… you could have asked me to spend it with you” now it was him who had a smart smile on his face “… I certainly would have made your afternoon less dull”.

“Why do I even bother?” you muttered, facing away from him, an annoyed look on your face.

“Because I pay you” he spoke gingerly “… and because after all you like annoying me”.

“I just don’t like when you do it to me” you tried to appear completely unbothered “… I should be the only one allowed to do it”.

“That’d be unfair, milady”.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you turned to Harald, who had gently closed the door behind him, making you understand that what he wanted to discuss with you wasn’t to be heard.

“I went to Vidgis” he spoke, making you send him a small look ��… I told her to send the dresses you ordered here, alongside mine, because I sadly can’t let you go back, to your small hut”.

“Do you seriously intend to kidnap me?” your shock activated your immediate sarcasm.

“… I have been having a few small riots at the borders, and I need all my guards there, so I won’t have anybody protecting you and your house, for these days” he explained quickly, making you grimace lightly.

“I can go back on my own”.

“And risk getting attacked by Jorun’s friends? I want to avoid that” he uttered, his tone an order that you didn’t want to hear “… why is it so ‘horrible’ for you to stay here, in my castle, all sheltered and with a servant for every need of yours?”.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you replied, with the same annoyed irritation “… because I am nothing to you, Harald, truly. I am not blood and neither a lover”.

He seemed taken aback and you wondered whether for a moment he had thought that your gentleness with him was your way of flirting with him.

To get him to be your lover.

You felt suddenly choked.

But Harald shook himself quickly.

“Why do you have to question the hand that feeds you?” he mumbled, hissing the question through his teeths.

“Nobody does anything for nothing” you replied “… name your price, because if it is my open legs…”.

“Woman, would you stop thinking badly of me for a minute?!” his face was red, and you couldn’t help but be a bit surprised by such an intimate expression as his eyes didn’t try to meet you “… I wouldn’t do that to you… I just…”.

“What do you want, Harald, then?” you pushed him further and he raised his eyes to meet yours, shining with an honesty and an ache that made you for a moment, ashamed.

“… your suggestions are useful, although you speak with such a sharp tongue” now his tone was back in check, extremely kingly “… that’s why I want to keep you around, because others won’t tell me where I go wrong, but you won’t hesitate to make me notice even in the slightest any flaw of mine”.

You were speechless, taken aback completely.

It was so utter sincere, that it should have hurt you.

But you were reassured to know that he hadn’t no further reasons to care for you.

That it was simply… for his own advantage.

No, it didn’t hurt you in the slightest.

And even if it did, you couldn’t just show it to him right now.

“I’ll stay” you were now hurrying to get yourself rid of him “… for a week, and then I’ll go back home, and you can’t stop me”.

“Wouldn’t even think about it”.

---

Your dinner had been consumed in silence.

And your night had been as well, as you had fallen in bed suddenly feeling tired.

You didn’t dream of nothing more than the intense black night that fell onto you, caressing as a mother.

But your sleep wasn’t long, and you woke up as soon as the Sun peaked through the curtains, making you turn and turn on the bed, till both the side of the bed were warm because of your movements.

And eventually you thought about waking up.

The covers being too hot, and your arm screaming for attention, as you disentangled your home-made cast, as you pushed yourself to the window of your room.

You looked at the calm moving of the sun, yawning because although your mind was active, your body wasn’t, hence you kept your day lazy as you went through the first thoughts of the day.

Harald’s confession.

You shouldn’t have been surprised by his admission of needing your suggestions to survive.

You had prided yourself with that thought.

But now, it just… it seemed almost stained with shame.

Because Harald was genuine towards his need to help you, almost protective in a way that he hadn’t any obligation to be.

Something that still pained you.

Because you didn’t deserve it.

And you were still worried it wasn’t genuine.

But you had put yourself in this game.

And you’d get yourself up.

As soon as it was a decent hour, you moved out of your room, intent on moving in the kitchens to be allowed to eat there, since you had no intention of revealing your presence there to Harald’s subject.

They already thought that you were his whore.

Oh, how were they wrong.

Because had they witnessed the exchange of words of the previous night, they’d have certainly realized that he was your whore.

Doing your bidding and taking care of you.

You were glad to find on your way to the kitchens both Frigg and Saga, who were even more than glad to lead you there, surprised by your decision to eat with the servants, but your stomach had just grumbled so loudly that they hadn’t questioned your decision further.

You were glad to spend some more time with the girls, since it was easy to talk with them, and they were quite chatty, definitely pushing away all the bad thoughts in your mind.

It had been such a long time since girls had come to you as friend and not clients, with eyes full of suspicion, that just made you uncomfortable.

But the two sisters were more than happy to exchange a few laughs with you.

And they even accompanied you back to your room, to help you get ready, mostly to bathe, since as Saga had commented after a few minutes.

‘You smell like a horse more than the arse of a soldier’.

Frigg had just decked her sister on the arm, and meanwhile you were finishing the bath, you heard small giggles coming from the main room, linked to the small private bathroom definitely made for a female, either Harald’s wife or daughter.

Something that made you a bit uneasy.

But he had good taste, if he had been the one who had set it up.

It was clean and homely, maybe a bit more than it was fashionable, but for Harald, a man who thought more with heart than his dick, it wasn’t that strange, and it made you feel less uneasy about having left the hut.

If you had to stay there for a week, you wouldn’t have certainly complained for the place.

As you moved out, the girls’ giggles were due to your dress having finally arrived and they were admiring it, immediately blushing as they were caught by you, and you simply told them to keep on looking at it, since you couldn’t do much, till at least your hair were wet.

Saga had a malicious smile on her face, and it didn’t take her long to ask you whether she could try it on.

‘Oh, Gosh, Saga! Don’t you have manners!’ complained Frigg ‘… and you aren’t in the slightest like lady… I mean… (Y/N)’.

Saga had immediately looked discouraged, but you had insisted she did try it on.

‘I do think that the color would suit you better, Saga’ you suggested ‘Do try it on, please’.

And she didn’t need to be told a second time, as she hurried in the dress, with little shame for her undressed state, as she put it on quickly, fastening lightly the ties, behind it, helped by Frigg, who had slowly moved in a less sour mood, enjoying the small smirk that was on her sister’s face.

The dress was a beautiful creation of a bluish fabric that complimented your skin tone, but even more it had been shaped perfectly for the body of the wearer, suiting Saga enough, that you almost thought that it wasn’t worth to keep it.

That you should have gifted it to her.

It was sultry and lightly shiny in its front, to bring out the attention to the right parts of your body.

It caught almost fire as light touched it, in a heavenly creation.

And then something happened.

Saga turned to you, and suddenly her smile became a grimace, almost as if she had pricked herself with a needle, and for a moment you thought that she had, although it wouldn’t have been extremely unprofessional for Vidgis to forget one inside the dress.

But then she turned to you and started choking on air.

And before you knew it, she fell onto the ground, Frigg immediately on her knees beside her, alongside you who pushed the other girl aside to check on Saga, as she was shaken by convulsions.

You quickly checked on Saga, who had started becoming quite purple-y, effectively her air being stolen by her lungs, and you didn’t think this was accidental, in the slightest.

Saga wasn’t in the slightest unhealthy, so it had to be the dress.

You quickly pushed your robe away from your body, standing naked in front of the girls as you moved to bind together the robe over your hands, to avoid whatever the dress had been drown in sticking also to your skin.

Uncaring of the expensive fabric, you opened the dress, rapturing its stitched to get it even more quickly the dress away from Saga, helped by Frigg, who although shocked, followed quickly through your actions.

Although Saga, breathed deeply, her body was shaken by feverish convulsions and you could finally realize that the dress had been poisoned.

You just had to understand with what.

You pushed a bit of the fabric of the dress, close to your body as Frigg asked you what to do.

But you couldn’t do much, till you understood what had been introduced in Saga’s body.

The dress was full of the smell of Saga, which covered the poison.

But there were also many poisons that wouldn’t leave out any distinctive smell.

Irritation for yourself coursed through your veins, as you thought about what Vidgis might have laced in the dress.

On what she might have put her hands on.

And then you found out what.

And rushed in your bag to take back the antidote, something that had been saved by Jorun’s rummaging in your house.

Saga would have to thank Odin, if she survived through this.

You rushed to her, pushing the antidote through the mouth, making her choking back to it and spit it back, something that made you and Frigg hold a breath, as the younger mumbled tightly:

‘Please Saga, I won’t ever make fun of you… please…’ she pleaded softly, as you tried to grasp onto her hand but she was too nervous ‘… please breath’.

And almost as if spurred on by an order, Saga breathed, normally.

And it made you realize something.

And you rushed out, quickly putting on a fur over your naked body, stopping an handmaiden, and asking her where Harald slept.

The poor woman was too confused by your presence and crazed eyes to think that you had any suspicious intention and gave you quick instructions as you ran to his room.

And opened the door to a shirtless Harald, the new clothes laid neatly in the paper that they had been wrapped in, something that made you let out a deep breath of relief.

“If you were so in need of my naked chest, all you had to do was ask” he mumbled tightly.

“Don’t touch the new clothes” you screamed immediately, uncaring of his sarcasm.

“… because you are going to rip them away from me, don’t you?” he asked tightly, with another smartass smirk.

“No, you idiot, because they are fucking laced with poison”.

And this was enough to get his smirk away from his face.

“How… do… “ and then he rushed to you grabbing your hands, almost as if he wanted to check on you “… are you alright?”.

“Yes yes” you spoke, as you felt all the tiredness of these events falling onto you “… it was Saga who…”.

Suddenly you couldn’t help but realize the shocking truth.

That dress had been made for you.

You should have been the one barely breathing like Saga.

You should have checked on her.

But as you made to turn around, Harald’s hands that were still linked with yours brought you back to look at him.

“Vidgis tried to poison me, you know what that means”.

That she had almost committed regicide.

An act of treason.

“I really need to check on Saga, but then we’ll have a talk about this” you promised to him, the warmth of his hands going unnoticed to you.

Almost as if it was a natural gesture.

“… this isn’t anymore a personal attack to you” he spoke, his voice suddenly rough “… this is a betrayal to my crown”.

@maggiescarborough @isthisreallife2017 @okayytayy @dopeybubbles @rls905 @gearhead66 @fantasydevil2002 @crazy-fan-101 @pinkisokay @naaladareia

#Harald #Harald Finehair #Vikings Harald #Harald Reader #Harald x Reader #Harald Imagine #Harald Fic #Harald Finehair Fic #Harald Moodboard #Harald Fanfic #Harald Fan Fic #Harald Angst #Angst #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine #Vikings Reader

47 notes · View notes

astranne · 4 years

Text

Crossover Idea Percy Jackson/Vikings

This is just another excuse, to make a female Percy Jackson and ship her with a character I like.

So, we start with the era of the gods, the greek ones. After the romans take over the known world, the greek gods grow weaker and when the christians come, they slowly ‘die’. They use their power for the last time and create Themyscira, the island of the amazons. All the female demigods come back to life and become amazons, Queen Hippotyta gives birth to triplets, the oldest is named Rhea and is the last daughter of Poseidon, the second born bears the name Persephone and is the daughter of Hades. The youngest is Diana and a daughter of Zeus. With their birth, the greek gods finally rest, their essences are being held in the temples, well, after they all bless the daughters of the big three. (They all have black hair, but different eye colours and the face of their mother)

So, times flows slower on Themyscira, the three grow up, the amazons life in peace and yeah. Each daughter has been gifted with a special armor (like Wonder Woman, but Rhea’s armor is blue/silver and Persephone is black and gold) each sister has a lasso of truth, a sacred sword, shield and the weapons of their fathers. Rhea has Poseidons trident, Persephone Hades’ helmet and Diana the spear of Zeus. They learn to control their powers, Rhea becomes a great leader, Persephone a gifted seer and Diana is one of the best healers. One day, all three sisters dream of three men. They hail to different gods, powerful as once the greek ones were. Ragnar, the son of Odin, Floki, the son of Loki and Rollo, the son of the eldest Berserker. The three of them, together with Rhea, Persephone and Diana will show the world the true wrath of the gods. They don’t tell their mother, but when the dreams become more frequent, they do.

Anyway. The finally tell Hippotyta, who just sighs. She knew, that her daughters would do great things one day, but she hoped, she had still some time. But she has hope. In new world, the humans don’t belive the storys of their gods. The don’t have the knowledge and power to hurt her daughters.

So, the three sisters take their weapons, armors and a ship and sail north.

Now we come to Ragnar, Rollo and Floki. Like in the serie, Ragnar marries Lagartha and has two children, until he begins to dream about a beautiful, godlike warrior and her two sisters. She’s the daughter of Poseidon, of a sea god, who died, because of the lack of faith. He becomes thoughful and slowly rejects Lagertha, who’s pissed as fuck. When he tells her about her dreams, she takes her daughter and leaves Kattegat, because her husband dreams about a woman, who he never met and says she’s the daughter of a god and a princess? yeah- no. She sails away and then comes to Wessex.

Rollo dreams about a fiercy healer, the daughter of a god of the sky and a princess. He knows, she’s important, like her sisters and stops fucking other womans. He also has dreams about a man, a great warrior, who he later realizes was his father.

Floki first hated the idea of other gods, but when this mysterious woman became a big part of his dreams, the daughter of a god of death and the underworld, he thought about it. He tells Ragnar first, who also admits of such dreams. This becomes their greatest secret, until one day Rollo hears them. He then tells about it too and the three realize, the gods have great plans for them. And some years later, three sisters come to Kattegat.

Since the amazon are blessed by the gods, they can understand any language, also the ones of the animals and are connected with the nature. And since the three are children of the most powerful greek gods, they have even more power. Earl Haraldson tries to take them as his mistresses, but they fight against him and win.

“I am Princess Rhea, daughter of Queen Hippotyta, ruler of the amazons and the great King Poseidon, the earthshaker. If you lay another finger at me or my sisters, I will kill you.” The whole village is there, when the fight starts.

“My name is Persephone, secondborn Princess of Themyscira, daughter of Queen Hippotyta and King Hades, the one who brings death and controls it.”

“I am Diana, Princess of the sky and the amazons, the daughter of the mighty Hippotyta and the powerful Zeus, the King of the sky. I know, that we are not like you, but we are warriors, blessed by the gods. Not by yours, but still blessed.” When Ragnar, Rollo and Floki finally arrive, Earl Haraldson is shouting something about their death, but is stopped by them and the seer.

“Don’t touch them, Earl. They are children of three brothers, three gods and descendants of War himself. Their gods died long ago, to make place for ours, but they are still daughters of... the most powerful ones. Poseidon, the sea, Hades, the death and underworld and Zeus, the sky.”

“Their mother... is a Queen, a daughter of Ares, the god of war and rules the amazons, similar to our valkyries. Kill them and you will be punished, be our gods and theirs... but I am sure, they would kill you first.”

“The gods have great plans for you, daughters of gods. Great ones...” Never has the seer spoken so clearly about something, so Earl Haraldson let’s them ‘life’.

The three vikings and the three sisters meet each other at the feast. The men are totally smitten, just like many others, but the three make it clear, in who they are interested.

Now it goes pretty much like the series, Ragnar sails to England, while Rhea stays at Kattegat and looks after his son. At first, Björn has been wary, but realized, that his father and this amazon fit better together then his mother and his father. The two of them always fighted and Rhea brought peace in the house. She’s still passionate and as strong as the storm, but mostly calm.

Rollo and Diana immediatly hit off, so she goes with him to England. While Floki is accompanied by Persephone. The two of them bond over their wisedom, wits and the love and faith for the gods. So, the whole shit with Earl Haraldson happens, but Ragnar is healed by Rhea. After Ragnar becomes Earl, she sends words to her mother, some weeks after the first amazons arrive. The whole series speeds up, Ragnar becomes much faster King, while Rhea is the crown princess to the amazons.

Rollo becomes known as the Berserker and Diana as the storm woman, Floki becomes the name; the spawn of chaos (he loves the name) and Persephone the woman who controls death or Hela. Ragnar is just refered as the son of Odin and Rhea as the stormbringer.

So, a year later, Ragnar sails as the King of the vikings together with his Queen to England, Wessex. Her aunt, Antiope will look after Kattegat, just like the other amazons. And Rhea is pregnant the first time. Ragnar meets for the first time King Egbert and is rather surprised to find Lagertha by his side, as his Queen. His own daughter stares at him with pure hate, just like his former wife at Rhea.

“Ahhh... Ragnar, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s King Ragnar”, says a amazon automatically. Lagertha frowns, while Egberts smiles flatters.

“And who is this beautiful woman by your side?”

“My wife, Rhea, the stormbringer, Queen of the northmen and the crownprincess of Themyscira. Daughter of Queen Hippotyta and King Poseidon, the earthshaker.” Rhea nods with her head. King Egbert invites them to a bath in his bathhouse. He and Lagertha watch with careful eyes, how Ragnar starts to undress himself and steps in the water. Rhea let’s her coat falling on the ground, showing herself in her armor. She takes her headpice out of her hair and slowly removes piece for piece of her armor. Lagertha is full of envy, when she sees her naked and besides Ragnar, who pulls her onto his lap.

“A christian lives in a roman house... how interesting.” Egbert is surprised, she could speak his language and knows, that this is roman.

“How do you know, my Lady?”

“My parents are from ancient greece and I am well educated.”

So, Egbert and Ragnar talk about their lives as kings and such, much like in the series. Lagertha glares daggers at the new wife of Ragnar, she should be Queen of the vikings, not this bitch. She regets sailing away, maybe she could’ve talked some sense into Ragnar. But he dreamed about her, about this daughter of a sea god... and she is mere mortal.

Rhea smirks at Lagertha while playing with Ragnars long hair. When Egbert looks away, she controls the water and makes a dagger. Lagerthas eyes widden, Rheas grin becomes bigger.

So, Ragnar goes on raid, doesn’t let Rhea come with him bc she’s pregnant. Some timeskip. She births twins, names them Romulus and Remus, becomes pregnant again. Names this son Ivar.

Anyway. Ragnar is happy, Rhea too, basically everyone. She gives births two other sons, Ares and Thorund and a daughter, Odina.

so yeah...

If you want to write a story about this, please tag me, so I can read and reblog it!

Masterlist

5 notes · View notes

kingofthewilderwest · 6 years

Note

Um I don't want to bother you but could you maybe recommend me some good httyd blogs? Any content is fine (even though I would like some blogs that mostly post about Astrid and maybe Hiccstrid) I'm not following many blogs and I have a big lack of httyd on my dashboard. Thanks!

Not bothering me at all! :) Sure, I’m happy to recommend some HTTYD blogs to you! It’s impossible for me to list everyone in this fandom that I know about and think is awesome, and I might not be as closely connected to the Hiccstrid-Astrid circles to give lots of names for that specifically, but I hope this helps. Anyone’s free to add on, reblog, and wave “hello” to say you’re an active member of the httyd fandom!

@graphrofberk consolidates fandom giffing and art content into one outstanding blog! come here for your fandom visual needs!

@peachdoxie is a dragon nerd, animation enthusiast, analytical mind, and all-around awesome human whose THW ecstasy is currently immeasurably high.

Speaking of freakishly awesome human beings, I can’t go without mentioning @frosty-viking, whose passion for animation is endless.

@avannak, @dyannehs, and @e–wills always have great, thoughtful, well-reasoned content and perspectives. I have so much respect for them.

@jackthevulture is an outstanding artist, and I love his knowledge and heart for not only dragons, but all the animals of our world.

@inhonoredglory is creative, thoughtful, and all around kindhearted soul. She was probably the first person I knew about in the httyd fandom Back In The Day and she continues to be as amazing as ever.

@leffiesart is a sweetie and her art style has unmistakable, instantly-recognizable charm. She draws lots of great Hiccstrid and Astrid stuff!!!

@raidesart has breathtaking beautiful paintings and is somehow constantly pouring out new amazing art material.

@madpatti draws dragons, and oh my GOODNESS do I never get tired of these pieces. The amount of skill you have? Wow.

There’s so many breathtaking artists that are unmistakable and glorious staples on my dash, like @kadeart and @ieatpockey and @dragondingus and more!

@ashleybenlove is constantly talking about awesome content from all parts of the franchise, and is (like everyone else on this post) an awesome human soul.

If you’re into the HTTYD book series, there’s a fabulous and personable community of Dragonmarkers, including but not limited to @yv-sketches, @thepotatoreader, @wodensfang-the-desperado, @s-hero-s, @historyrepeatsitself, @httydbooks-doodler, and @books-are-like-dragons.

I want to keep making more shoutouts, but I’ll stop here. But please, people, add more! There are so many wonderful HTTYD blogs and people!

Some peoples’ blogs will be multifandom and some will be solely HTTYD, but they’re all blogs (and people) I wholeheartedly think are great.

#httyd fandom #httyd #How to Train Your Dragon #ask #ask me #awesome anonymous friend #I didn't list fanfic writers but I don't follow that community as closely - so I'll leave that to someone else! :)#Anonymous

252 notes · View notes

wintersxsoul · 6 years

Text

Ancient Love (2)

Summary: Loki never thought he would fall in love with a mortal, but much less that he would lose you as fast as he did. But…did he really lose you?

Pairing: Loki x Female Viking!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Dirty talking, mentions of sex and all that stuff.

A/N: Finally I get to finish this chapter. It’s been almost done for almost a week, I’m a mess ugh ily. Please, give feedback, a reblog never hurt no one and it really keeps me motivated to keep writing.

As always, Masterlist and Taglist are on my blog bio!

As weeks went by, you spent less and less time on the village and more in the woods, with the company of your foreigner friend. You were stubborn so you were struggling to admit your feelings to yourself, knowing what that could bring you. You discovered new things about the world you lived in thanks to Loki, his extent knowledge always taking you aback. He was soft and caring but something in his demeanor denoted a strong feeling of loneliness, you never asked him about it though, maybe with time he would open up to you. Loki, on the other hand, was falling for your beauty and strength of spirit, a warrior indeed. You moved around the woods like you belonged there, swaying around like leaves on the wind.

The day Loki knew he loved you was the day you were sparring with him, you achieved to pin him on the soft grass your sword threatening to cut his throat open if he moved. Your faces were mere inches apart and you could feel his hot breath on your cold lips, for a brief moment you thought it was finally going to happen but the bubble burst when you heard a loud caw coming from a crow that was sitting on a branch, staring at you.

“Let’s go, it’s getting late.” You stood up and reached out to help him get up, a shiver ran down your spine when your hands made contact for the first time, something blooming warmly in your heart.

You walked slowly through the woods admiring how the moon lit the top of the trees, the dark green shades appearing to be silver. Loki was silently admiring you, how your hair flowed with the wind and the moonlight making your skin glow. A true goddess of the woods, he thought. He would have never thought he was capable of loving someone, but there you were, making his heart ache.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You stopped dead in your tracks when you realized he had a weird expression on his face, maybe thinking that you did something to upset him. Loki’s eyes widened when you looked at him, confused and you also seemed to be scared, your eyes betraying you.

“I...uhm I think I...you have something in your hair.” He reached out to get it off your hair, a fake leaf he created to hide his true thoughts.

“Oh...okay, thank you.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear and started walking, leaving Loki behind. He ran to you after he scolded himself, totally missing how you sighed heavily, longing for him. You were walking besides him really close, your hands brushing lightly, until you gathered the strength to intertwine your fingers with his. You heard his breath hitch but said nothing, smiling to yourself. Small victories, you thought.

Loki was hard to approach at first, you were sure he had secluded himself so deeply he forgot how to interact with someone, but as the first days went by, his actions changed, leading you to that exact moment.

Most of the nights, you slept at his hut but that night, something felt different. You could feel he was nervous and that made you aware that something you didn’t know was going on.

He stopped in front of his door and looked at you, his green eyes piercing yours. You instantly saw what was troubling him but you wanted, needed, to hear it from his own mouth.

“I’ve always thought I was incapable of bearing this kind of feelings in my chest, but you’ve set a fire inside that I’m not able to extinguish. And I do not have the will or power to do so.” He had his hand pressed on his left side of the chest, on top of his heart. Your eyes widened at his honesty and you were now able to see the love and adoration in his gaze. You placed your hand on top of his while you moved the other one to cup his cheek.

“Loki, my heart and soul are yours.” That’s all it took for him to close the space between you, his lips softly colliding against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your whole self melting into his arms. Loki let out a soft whimper and you moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss, trying to pour all the love, adoration, passion and total surrender of your barriers.

Loki felt he was about to burst into flames, your breath filling his lungs with your sweet scent. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, your chest colliding to his, both of your hearts beating rapidly, pounding with lust. You ran your hands through his raven locks and pulled, making Loki’s breath hitch and you bit his bottom lip after tracing it with your tongue. He pulled apart trying to catch his breath and pressed his forehead against yours.

He slowly opened his eyes and watched you adoringly, both of your gazes full of desire.

“If we continue, I won’t be able to stop.” You said out of breath still right before Loki leaned in to kiss you again, this time more needy and intense.

“Then don’t.” He added, his voice low and hoarse.

“Do we really have to get out?” You whined at him, the coldness of the morning hitting your bare skin. Loki gave your dry lips a soft peck and got out of bed, in all his naked glory.

“We’ve been rolling on the bed for two days, Y/n. We really have to get out. We barely have food and water left.” You let out a sigh and grabbed his wrist before he could move further from the bed.

“I can think of a few very nutritional meals.” He looked at you amused by your insatiable thirst, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted by your offer, after all, he had the stamina of a god.

“Ástin mín (my love), just stay in bed and I’ll go find us something to eat.” You pouted but nodded, pulling the furs up to cover your body, watching him get dressed.

“Óst min, kyss mik (my love, kiss me.)” You tried to sound demanding but your voice trembled in anticipation, your lips longing for his, your body already missing his heat. He leaned in and pressed a kiss on top of your head, his hand cupping your cheek.

“I’ll be back before dawn, warm the bed for me.” You smiled at him lovingly and snuggled up in the bed, smelling Loki’s scent in the huge blanket.

Loki knew it would take him a few hours to hunt a big prey, so he started collecting fruits to eat and flowers to give you, knowing he could later find some meat on the village.

After a few hours he went back to the hut, some fresh stolen meat, a basket full of wild berries and daisies. He tried not to startle you so he opened the door slowly his heart swelling at the view in front of his eyes. You were sprawled on the bed, back facing the ceiling and arms tucked under the pillow, your breath blowing a few strands of hair back and forth from your face. He casted a fire, the woods from the fireplace lighting immediately and he also lit the candles, since it was already dark outside.

He approached the bed and sat besides you, leaning forward and trailing kisses up and down your naked back. You moaned half asleep and turned around, your eyes glancing at Loki half-lidded due to your sleepy state. You sat down and pressed your forehead to his chest, your hair covering your face. Loki hugged you and stroke your hair, rocking both of your bodies slowly.

“Are you okay?” You nodded, face still buried in his chest. You finally moved to look at him and smiled, reaching out to kiss him on the throat, a small and sweet peck.

“I’m starving. Can we please eat and then get back to bed?” He nodded smiling at your petition, standing up to cook the meat and prepare some herbal tea.

Months had passed since the first night you spent together, both of your new lives already established. You moved to Loki’s house since it was way bigger than yours, the spot where it was marvelous. You bought a few chickens, a cow and two horses, so you would always have food, milk and a way of transport. You never knew where Loki had gained all that money and when you asked, he always said it was from his father’s fortune.

You woke up one morning to an empty bed, thinking that maybe your lover went to gather some fruits or flowers as he usually did and as the morning went by, you tried to ignore the burning feeling that was settled on your chest, the feeling that something bad was going to happen. You were preparing some herbal tea when rain started to fall heavily on the roof of the hut, frowning, you went outside to check if it was really raining. It was very rare that it rained at this time of year, maybe the gods listened to someone’s prayers like they did with yours, it was the only logical explanation, for you at least. Loki on the other hand hurried through the woods to get to you knowing that you weren’t safe.

Just when the wooden house was in his field vision, he heard a scream, your scream, and it wasn’t coming from the house, so he ran, he ran so fast he thought his lungs were bleeding and oh god, how much he wanted that to be true because it wouldn’t be as painful as seeing what was in front of him.

105 notes · View notes

pure-egotism · 6 years

Text

I made a different post of this a while ago as a reblog, but I wanted to make it as a separate post...so here.

I remember every detail from the first time I did it. It had been an accident of course, but I had gone through the motions so many times now that it didn’t seem all that important how or even why it had started. Time travel had only recently become a possibility, and so some were assigned the task of observing historical events. To record every detail available to them without messing up the timeline, and reporting back to have their findings stored for posterity. Others had been given the task of actually changing certain aspects of historical events. The biggest one to date involved some event with a library, but I think it was still burned anyway, so the head honchos are still trying to figure that one out. I had been int he former group of employees when I first started out. That was, until I had accidentally been caught in the crossfires of the American Revolution.

I had hidden behind an overturned supply wagon, trying to catch my breath when I caught sight of a young boy. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen, and it looked like he still had some remnants of his baby fat on his face. He looked up at me, blue eyes starting to glaze over. He lifted his arm towards me, but it quickly fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He tried to speak, but it came out as a harsh whisper, and a look of pure agony cracked across his face. His other arm grabbing his torso, and for the first time I noticed the brilliant scarlet coating his makeshift rebel uniform. He looked up at me, trying to speak again, but a sharp cry was all that came out as his body contorted in pain with the effort.

“Hey, now. Don’t speak. Everything is going to be alright now,” I cooed, crawling over to him quickly. I smoothed the hair out of his face, taking his hand in mine. Glancing down, I could see the dark stain growing bigger on his clothing.

“W-who are you?” he gasped, eyes raking over me. I wasn’t wearing any period clothing, so I could only imagine the sight I must have been to him.

“I’m from a time in the distant future. I’m here to observe,” I explained gently.

“I don’t want to die,” he cried, tears beginning to form. I could feel my heart wrench in my chest, and I carefully maneuvered him so that his head rested in my lap.

“I know, I know,” I soothed, stroking his hair. The small action seemed to calm him down, and he relaxed a little.

“If you are from the future,” he began, “then can you tell me if any of this is worth it? Does my death mean anything in the end?”

I paused, contemplating his words. He seemed to sense my apprehension because he spoke again. “Please. Tell me. I’m dying anyway. Please tell me that it’s not in vain.”

I took another moment to choose my words carefully, knowing I was breaking the biggest rule in the book.

“Because of your sacrifice,” I started, “something absolutely incredible happens. In two years time, the world turns upside down. The colonists win, and a new nation is born. A nation that will go through many trials and that won’t always come out on the right side of them. This nation will be known as the land of the free and the home of the brave. We become a great nation, one that rivals every other. We make mistakes, but this land and its people grow and become strong because of it.”

He stared at me in awe, his skin a sickly white at this point.

“We win?” he asked quietly. I nodded.

“We win,” I smiled.

“We win,” he breathed, a small smile creeping onto his face, and then, with a shuddering breath, he stopped moving. The world seemed to stop moving after that. I had never seen someone die before, and the sight left me in shock. I was put on leave with mandatory sessions with the department psychologist after that.

“How are you feeling after the entire experience, agent?” asked the doctor.

“I feel…sad. Like I should have done more,” I admitted quietly, staring down at my hands. The doctor nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile.

“That’s understandable. You weren’t supposed to witness any deaths on your assignment,” he noted, looking up from the file he had in his lap. I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, not personally anyway,” he chuckled with a wry smile. “You were never supposed to be that close. I’ve heard they’ve fixed the coordinate machine though.”

“That’s great,” I hummed unenthusiastically. The doctor stared at me for a moment before leaning closer.

“There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?” he asked.

“It was awful not being able to help that kid. But, in those last few moments it felt…almost good to know I had comforted him in some way before he…” I stopped, not able to bring myself to say the word. The doctor nodded knowingly. There was another stretch of silence between the two of us before he spoke again.

“Maybe there’s something you can do.”

My director stared at me for a moment before letting out a long breath.

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” she asked, worry evident on her face. I gave her a hard nod, my mind made up.

“It’s something I feel needs to be done, I said simply.

“Alright then,” she began, reaching down to grab a file. “This is your new assignment.”

From that moment on, I went on from being a simple observer to being something so much more than that. I had made it my life’s work to travel across space and time to bring comfort to those on their deathbeds. I had visited everyone from simple Viking farmers to Napoleon Bonaparte himself. All to tell them how they changed the world into what we know it as today.

“I’m surprised at your work so far, “ my director said.

“Is that good or bad surprise?” I asked with a smile. She returned it, and leaned back in her chair.

“Definitely good. Because of your work, we were able to put personalities to faces and people. It’s one thing to observe, but a whole different ball park to understand.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Director, but I have a feeling you called me in here to do something else.”

“You’re right,” she said, handing me a thin file. Curious, I took it from her, flipping it open.

“What,” I began in confusion, “what is this?”

“It’s your next assignment, of course.”

“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head. Closing the file, I attempted to hand it back to her, but she shook her head.

“This one is all yours,” she said.

“But…why? How can I possibly help? Can the Allspeak even translate for us?”

“Believe it or not,” she began, “a lot fo observers requested this time period specifically. We’ve gained a lot of knowledge form the amount of people who volunteered to go.”

“Then why not have one of them go?” I grumbled.

“I think this will be good for you, and besides. You’re one of our best.”

And that’s how I ended up in a dark cave sometime in the Paleolithic era. The cave was empty, but not deserted. Several small fires were scattered about with stone tools and bits of food left around them. Not too far back, I heard a hacking cough echo to the front where I stood. Quietly and as quickly as possible, I made my way to where the man laid on his makeshift bed of pelts. Sweat drenched his forehead, and his breath came out in wheezes. He was dying.

At the sound of my footsteps, he opened his eyes, and they widened in shock at the sight of me. I put my hands up to show him I was unarmed, and he watched me wearily.

“It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmured, slowly continuing my way towards him. He continued to watch me, not moving. Finally, I reached him, and I slowly knelt down to sit beside him. We stared at each other for a long moment, both of us taking each other in.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m no one important. Just an observer,” I replied with a small smile.

“You not from here,” he noted, giving me another once over. I chuckled, my smile growing with the action.

“That’s right. I’m from a far away place. A far away time.”

“Time?” he questioned, looking into my eyes. It shocked me to see someone completely human in them. For so long, we had been taught about the people of this time period. How they lived. How they survived. How they created masterpieces on the walls of the caves that still survive to this day. They seemed something other than human. But now, sitting there and staring into his eyes, it was like staring into the eyes of an old friend. Someone who wasn’t as otherworldly as first expected. Someone living from day to day. Just living.

“I’m from the future,” I told him. He furrowed his brow at me.

“What is…future?” he asked. Maybe they didn’t understand the concept of time beyond a certain point, or maybe they just didn’t have a word for future yet. I thought for a moment as to how to explain such a simple word to him.

“I’m from a place that’s farther than tomorrow,” I said finally. he seemed to understand that, and he nodded.

“What you doing here?” he asked before letting out another wheezing cough. I placed a hand on his chest, trying to give him some comfort.

“I’m here to see you.”

“Why?”

I paused, unsure of how to answer. The people of the Paleolithic era had always fascinated everyone throughout the ages. More specifically, their art had captured the imagination of everyone who had ever seen it.

“I want to know you,” I said finally. A different kind of confusion adorned his face now.

“I not family. I not important to you.”

“But you are,” I smiled, taking his hand in mine.

“How?” he wheezed, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment before looking at me again. I moved so that I was lying down next to him, and I pointed at the walls surrounding us. On every surface, a painting rested, holding a story that ran from wall to wall.

“See these?” I asked him, earning a nod. “These paintings will last longer than you and I will ever be able to understand. A long time from now, people like me will come here; long after everyone living here is gone. They’re going to come here, and they’re going to do everything they can to understand you and why you left these pictures here. People like me will cry at the sheer beauty of these pictures, and in doing so, will cry at the loss of you, at the loss of everything you represent. Their souls will mourn you and everything you’ve given us.”

“Why they want to understand?”

“Because,” I whispered, “every single person that ever was or ever will be has come from you. By understanding you, it gives us hope that we can understand ourselves. That we can understand a time when we worked together to survive everything the world threw at us. We want to understand the time before we starting tearing our world apart because we could.”

“And I give?” he asked, eyes turning to search mine, seemingly for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask. I nodded, feeling my heart break once again for someone who was already long dead.

“You give us the ability to understand the world around us and how we fit in a little better. You make us see ourselves for what we are.”

“What that?” he asked quietly, letting out a weak cough.

“Creatures that were able to overcome many trials and rise up to become something greater than what nature may have intended us to be.”

“That…good?” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Yes,” I said, “that’s very good.”

“I no want,” he coughed, his entire body jerking violently this time. “I no want to be alone. Family looking for food. No back for long time.”

“It’s okay,” I soothed. “I won’t leave your side.”

And I didn’t. For a long while, we laid there, staring at the walls. The fires around the cave danced, casting shadows that made those breathtaking pictures seem to move with them. We watched as the people hunted for the deer that seemed larger than life. We watched as the herds of bison raced against each other, forming waves of dark bodies against a sea of rigid stone. I didn’t realize at first when his hand fell limp in mine. When I did, I looked over to find he had completely stilled, departed to dance and hunt with his ancestors, and to be immortalized on the stone walls protecting us. Carefully, I arranged his hands so that they rested on his body, and I made my way towards the opening of the cave, sparing one last look at my new friend.

I didn’t go on any assignments after that. It seemed almost wrong to even entertain the idea of it. I retired myself to desk duty, handing out assignments when they came in , and making sure each person was assigned the cases they could handle. I still think about that man in the cave, and tell his story whenever I’m called to guest lectures.

“What inspired you to start this branch of the agency?” asked one student during a lecture at Harvard. I thought for a moment, not quite knowing the answer.

“I wanted to start it,” I began, “because I hoped that people in the future would look back on this and be inspired to continue to keep learning about themselves.”

“Where do you see our future being?” asked another student.

Smiling, I replied, “In a place farther than tomorrow.”

#liz writes #mine #writing #writings #bleh #short story

9 notes · View notes