but Ivar cut him off, “Y/N. yes. it is.” his eyes watched your every movement as you battled against his men. even at a distance it was obvious you were a force to be reckoned with, and Ivar felt his blood racing through his viens with every moment he watched.
he had loved you since the first day he saw you pick up a sword. you had always been beautiful and with a weapon… well, Ivar could die knowing he’d seen a true Valkyrie. yes, you were on the other side, but Ivar still had hope.
he would always have hope, even if he took that hope with him to his grave.
You woke strapped to a chair, right foot numb from the tight bindings and your head aching. Moving your neck from side to side, you let out a light groan. This definitely wasn’t a good start to your day, but then again, you had no idea whether it was day or night, so you put it down to yet another shit moment in all your bullshit time on this earth.
A hidden door swung open with a tired creak and you flexed your wrists experimentally against the duct tape binding them to the arms of the chair. Your fingers searched for any hint of a sharp edge on the chair. Heavy footsteps drew closer, and the door slammed shut with a resounding finality. You simply fixed your eyes on the wall and waited.
Within a few seconds, a familiar head of perfectly coiffed blond hair rounded the corner. He smiled when he saw you, your eyes open and mouth twisted into a deep scowl. The man pulled up a chair in front of you and sat, lazily sprawling his limbs in a practiced casual pose and smiled.
“Finnegan. I knew I heard a rodent scurrying about in here.”
He only let out a little chuckle. “As polite as ever, (Y/n). And please, call me Finn, we’re about to be very well acquainted.”
You were practically snarling. “Bite me, dickwad.”
You were smoking not thinking about anything when you saw that black jaguar stopping at your door. You knew it was him before he even left the car, even so you were curious. What he was doing?
You watched Ivar leaving the car in all his glory. Black leather jacket, red shirt e black jeans that made he look so sinfully handsome.
“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a small smile.
“Hello,” you said leaving your cigarette forgotten aside.
“Can you say to Megan that I’d like to talk with her?” he said.
Okay, you should have known better. Obviously Ivar wasn’t there for you, but for your sister, Megan. He didn’t need to say but it was kind obvious he was head over heels for her, probably just like you were for him.
“She just left with Matthew. On a date,” you added like if it was nothing.
“Matthew… A date? Wow. I guess I’m kinda late,” he smiled but different than the other times, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Good, he was angry.
“I’ll tell her you came here and-”
“There’s no need, it’s okay,” he said.
“Wouldn’t you like to come inside?” you said like it was no big deal. To prove your point a loud thunder echoed through the sky.
“I guess I don’t have another option,” he said shyly.
“Do you need anything? I have beer here,” you said once he was seated in your couch.
“No I-i… Yeah, I’d like it. Please,” he added.
Once you seated with him, handing him a beer you looked attentively at him. He was ridiculously handsome. Everything about him drove you insane. His gorgeous features, the icy blue eyes you’d die for, his smell, the most minimum detail made your heart skip a beat.
“Staring is rude,” he laughed before taking a long sip of the beer.
“I wasn’t… Sorry,” you laughed. You’d have to be more discreet otherwise he would notice the way you looked at him.
“So did you come to confess your feelings for the sweet Megan?” you said dramatically earning a laugh from him.
“Is that obvious?” he asked.
“It’s written all over your face. C'mon, you have heart eyes for her,” you said like it was obvious.
“No, I don’t… Okay, maybe I look at her a bit different,” he admitted.
“A bit?”
“Okay, I fell for her. Satisfied?” he said.
“A bit,” you answered with a small smile.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked curiously.
“It’s nothing… I mean I should be used to this,” you continued.
“To what?"
"Megan always… Had guys like you head over heels for her and she plays with them, with their feelings. I don’t want this for you,” you said.
Part of you was angry to talk about your sister like this, but it wasn’t a lie. Megan was a femme fatale. That included some heartbreaking in the process. It was what she was. A goddamn powerful woman who knew the power she had in hands and put to good use.
The other part? Wanted to be more like her. To be sensual, to attract all the eyes when you enter a room, to break some hearts as well. But you and your sister were like wine and water, didn’t work very well together.
You were clumsy, most of times could be friends with the guy who was interested in you. You were the nerd sister and Megan, the cheerleader, the prom queen.
“Why are you telling me that? What do you want for me, Y/N?” Ivar asked after a long time.
“I think you deserve the true,” you said trying to ignore the goosebumps erupting in your skin hearing him calling your name.
“What do you want for me?” he insisted.
I want you to want me, your insides screamed.
“I want you to be happy with some girl that knows your value and that loves you,” and I want to be this girl, you added in your thoughts.
Ivar smiled to you, a true and beautiful smile. That made your knees weak. And then you realized. He knew it. He didn’t need to say anything, the way he looked at you said it all. He fucking knew it.
Much to your liking in a matter of two seconds and you were in a complete darkness.
“I swear to fucking fuck,” you said mostly to yourself.
“Better now?” he said once his phone’s flashlight was on.
“Thank you,” you said.
“So what were you saying?” Ivar said trying to bring back the subject.
“Forgot it, it’s your life, you give the shots not me,” you said.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked softly.
“I wasn’t,” you said. You didn’t need to ask what the fuck he was talking about.
“Hey, look at me,” he said. Long fingers reaching for you chin, making you face him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. You looked at those beautiful eyes, silently begging for whoever mysterious force to not lose his friendship.
“It’s been awhile since I noticed, probably that held me. I didn’t talk to Megan sooner because I knew about you, and I didn’t want to hurt you. And probably I lost her because of this,” he said running his hands through his long brown hair.
“You didn’t need to held yourself. I wouldn’t be that hurt… I told you, I’m used to this,” you said.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“What for? To lose your friendship? To make you reject me? No, I was fine keeping those feelings for me. What could I possibly win, Ivar?" you were almost crying at that point.
"Me,” he said. He smiled and caressed your hair softly. “I don’t know what you think about yourself, but you’re beautiful, kind, smart… So irresistible, just like your sister. You two aren’t that different, y'know. But you, Y/N, there’s something else about you. Something that intrigues me. Something that makes me want to be closer and closer to you,” he continued.
At that point breathing was out of question, the air was stuck in your throat because as Ivar talked he leaned closer and closer to you. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, and even wonder how it would be to kiss him right now.
Probably he was thinking the same when he kissed you. Plump lips against yours softly but wanting more. When you felt his tongue caressing your bottom lip, asking for entrance you swore your soul left your body. Because there was no fucking way that this was happening.
But boy, it was. Hot tongue dancing alongside yours, a passionate kiss that he easily dominated. He had both hands on your waistline, gripping firmly, holding you in place. You, on the other way, had shaky hands on his neck, wanting that this moment didn’t end.
But it did. You two were breathless, forehead against one another, icy blue eyes blown with lust.
“Please say we can try,” he said softly.
“Yeah, we can,” you said smiling.
Ivar kissed your forehead and you hugged him. This would work, you knew. You two would be one of that couples that couldn’t be away from one another for such a long time, and honestly, you were so happy with the idea of having an angry puppy like him always close to you.
Ivar knew he would found her waiting for him there, alone, probably reading some book with the sunlight caressing her skin in the most beautiful way. Once he reached her, he smiled. She was really reading. He sat down with her and caressed her hair.
“Hey,” she said with that shy smile that never failed making his heart skip a beat.
“Ready?” he asked. He wished things to be different, that she took him seriously, maybe give them a chance.
Ivar knew he would found her waiting for him there, alone, probably reading some book with the sunlight caressing her skin in the most beautiful way. Once he reached her, he smiled. She was really reading. He sat down with her and caressed her hair.
“Hey,” she said with that shy smile that never failed making his heart skip a beat.
“Ready?” he asked. He wished things to be different, that she took him seriously, maybe give them a chance.
“Actually I wanted to talk to you,” she started.
“What happened?” he asked. Because obviously something was wrong. He could say just by looking at her eyes, the worry clear on them.
“I wanted to know that if it’s okay…” she suddenly stopped talking.
“C'mon, talk to me, my sweet Y/N,” he said touching her chin.
“I’m not in the mood, I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks blushing a little.
“What happened? It was me?” Ivar asked suddenly worried.
“No, I just… I had another discussion with my mom this morning and she said a few things, y'know? I just wish I had another place to go, I don’t want to look at her, not right now at least. She hurt me,” she talked in such a low tone that Ivar had to pay total attention to her.
“You can come to my house, if you want of course,” he said like it was no big deal.
Immediately her curious eyes scanned his features looking for any signs of joking or anything like that.
“Sure?” she asked.
“I thought we were friends,” Ivar said dramatically.
“Friends don’t have sex,” she answered.
“We can always be friends with benefits,” he smiled.
“You’re such an idiot,” she laughed.
“Funny thing, I don’t remember you saying that kind of thing when my dick was inside of you,” he laughed when she blushed.
“Like I said, idiot,” she emphasized the word.
“C'mon we can watch movies and eat junkie food,” he said.
“Okay you convinced me,” she said with a smile.
***
When you got out of the bathroom you noticed you didn’t have anything to wear. Once you were back in the room Ivar was already laying on the bed, looking for something to watch on Netflix.
“Can I use one of your clothes?” you asked finally gaining his attention.
Okay it’s been awhile since that thing between you and Ivar was happening, but you always blushed under his gaze. It was strange because at the same time you felt the most beautiful woman in the world, you felt so little and helpless, like he was a lion and you were his prey.
“Sure,” he said.
You almost ran to his closet. You decided for one of his band t-shirts and grey sweatpants. You came back to the room and joined him on the bed.
You took some time to look at his room. He had a large variety of books, some of them classic and others were probably in foreign language. His dark room had three of the walls painted in black, and there was a red light that made everything look more attractive, more sensual.
“I never imagined being here,” you said turning your look to him.
“Hope you like, it’s my favourite place,” he said.
You knew Ivar didn’t have much friends, to be honest, he barely talked with other people beyond his brothers and well, you.
“Ivar,” you called him.
“What?” he said.
“Why me? You could have literally any other girl. I mean, you’re unfairly handsome,” you said.
You watched him inhale and exhale a few times, like if he was thinking about what to say.
“You’re different than any other girl I already met. When we had to do that ridiculous task together I saw that, and… I wanted more. I wanted to know you, to have you,” he said.
“So am I kinda of a prize to you? Something you wanted badly and-”
“I didn’t say that. I said that I wanted to know you, to be close to you. I never considered you like a prize. Because let’s be honest, I’m not that good, not to have you,” he said.
“What do you mean? Because we, well… We have sex quite often and…” you asked.
“Yes but think about it, we could have so much more than just sex. I mean the sex is great but… You understood,” he said.
You took some time to think about what he was saying, what he truly wanted. Did that mean that he wanted something else? Maybe a real relationship? Okay, Ivar wasn’t the type of guy that sent flowers and all the cute stuff, but he always watched over you, always was more worried in you, in your interests, in what you want, in your pleasure…
“Ivar, I…” at that point you didn’t know what to say anymore.
“Why don’t you sleep a little? I know you were crying in the bath, I heard,” he said softly.
“I… What about you?” you asked.
“I didn’t invite you here to have sex. I know how bad you get once you and your mother fight. I just want to comfort you. I won’t do anything, I promise,” he said.
“Thank you,” you said.
***
You woke up desperate looking for you phone when you saw it was just 8 PM you wanted to throw it against the wall. You shifted in the bed and finally saw that Ivar was sleeping as well, the book he was reading was open against his tattooed chest and he was still wearing glasses.
You slowly moved closer to him, picked the book and put it aside and when you were almost taking his glasses he woke up. Icy blue eyes staring at you.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, sorry,” you said.
“It’s okay. What time is it?” he asked yawning.
“8,” you answered.
“Want to eat something?” he asked checking on his phone.
“No, I’m fine,” you said.
“Can we go back to sleep?” he said laying properly on the bed.
“Yeah, we should,” you said looking at him.
Ivar reached for your body, strong arms involving your waist and pulling you closer.
“Thank you for everything you’ve been doing to me,” you whispered.
He opened his eyes and looked at you, curious eyes scanning your face.
“No need to thank me,” he said as traced your features with his fingers.
He didn’t need to do anything at that moment to make your heart race its own beats. When this started, you knew it wouldn’t be nothing but some great sex, but now? Oh girl, at that moment you already knew Ivar was the one. Your heart was his and something in your insides told you, his heart was yours as well.
“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” you said chuckling.
Ivar in the other hand was serious. He leaned closer to you, plump lips meeting yours in what started as a calm kiss. Tongues touching one another smoothly, hands tangling together. It didn’t take long to you moan on his mouth. Body getting hotter and hotter, wanting his touch, wanting to be his.
“You came here to seduce me, right? Such a bad girl,” he said slapping your thighs, hands grabbing the soft skin so hard that you moaned loudly.
“Ivar, please,” you said while you still could think coherently.
“What? Tell me what you want,” he said.
I want you to ravish me, you thought looking mesmerized at him. Under his gaze you always felt the prettiest and most desired woman on earth.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said simply. Thinking about it was enough to make heat pool between your legs.
“I see that. Everything in you tells me this. You want me so bad… Exactly the same way I want you,” he said close to your ear. Hot breath tickling your skin.
Like if he needed to prove a point, he pressed his growing erection against your thigh. He smiled when he saw you breathing heavily and closing your eyes, a loud moan trying to pass through your closed lips.
Much to your dislike Ivar took his time with you. Slowly so slowly he took your clothes off, kissing every exposed centimeter he got it.
“So beautiful,” he said touching both of your breasts, palming them softly just the way you liked. Hot mouth involving your nipples, one at time, prolonging that blissful attack. Licking, sucking and biting, the recipe to drive you crazy.
He nestled between your legs and started kissing your inner thighs. Here and there biting them.
“Ivar, please,” you knew you were sounding desperate.
“Want me here?” he said touching your slick folds, playing with your wetness.
“Yes,” you moaned arching your body as answer.
Ivar smiled before finally putting his mouth on you. Skillful tongue working on your pleasure, strong hands forcing your legs open so he could have espace to do whatever he wanted to you. And boy, he did. He fucked you with his tongue, with his fingers but he didn’t make you cum, no he preferred to have you clenching around him, moaning his name on nonstop like a prayer.
He aligned himself in your entrance and in one smooth movement he was inside you. At that moment breathing calmly was out of the question.
“You’re mine,” he said standing still inside you.
“I’m yours,” you confirmed.
Ivar smiled and then finally started moving. Slowly at first, but soon his insane pace was settled. Hips burying themselves on yours, making your body burn in pure desire for him.
Your closed your legs on his waist, allowing him to get even deeper inside you. Touching that sweet spot repeatedly, making you roll shut your eyes.
“Look at me,” he groaned.
And when you looked at him, he caressed your face.
“I want to see when you fall apart.”
At that moment you knew you were lost. Ivar used his arms as leverage to keep that furious pace. You knew it wouldn’t take you to long to your orgasm hit you like a train.
“Ivar, oh fuck!” You moaned. The growing pressure in your lower belly only grew.
“Come to me,” he said.
And obviously your body attended his command. You came trembling from head to toes, moaning his name. Nails finding his back and scratching him in the process. Ivar came right after you, not resisting to the way your pussy clenched around him.
He took some time still inside you trying to catch up his breath. When he finally moved he pulled you closer to him.
“Y/N, I…” he started.
You looked at him, mind still blurring too lost in pleasure.
“I don’t know how to say that,” he laughed nervously.
You waited for him to organise his thoughts, you were tracing the tattoos on his chest.
“I want more than this, I… I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said looking at you. His eyes were almost screaming “say yes, please”.
“Nothing would make me more happy than this,” you said.
He didn’t need words to answer, he hugged you tightly.
“I’ll make you happy, I promise,” he said.
“I already am when I’m with you,” you smiled.
You closed your eyes drifting to sleep happily. You knew that you and Ivar would make it. Honestly you couldn’t be happier with the fact that you were his girl, truly.
I am still not over his death… I actually like Ivar but that wasn’t cool at all . Sigurd’s character was growing and they just kill him off for no reason…But I really hope that this was just a vision The same goes to Helga, I can’t believe that she died, I really loved her… I am so sorry for floki :(
“Hvitserk…? HVITSERK?!”, you said, started to ran towards him and he just stood there and smiled. You hugged him and he hugged you too, pressed his lips on yours. “I missed you my beautiful star”, he said. “I missed you too, Hvitserk. I was so afraid that you wouldn’t come back”, you mumbled in his shoulders. “ I would never leave you alone”, he smiled and kissed you again.
I finally watched the new episode after a long, busy and hard day. What are your thoughts till now? Yay or Nay? For me, it’s defintely a yay. I loved the new episode and I love the story of the Ragnarsson’s brothers. Their story is really interesting. I don’t want to go into detail coz Spoilerrrrs.
If I forgot to tag you I’M SO SORRY and please just shoot me a message and I will add you ASAP. please do not ask to be tagged in the comments bc I’m scared your request is gonna get swallowed up! it’s a lot easier for me to keep track of it if you submit is as a question \message. <3
TW: None really.
His voice is a small thunder in the dead of night. The question lingers, swells, takes a life of its own between the two of you. He’s angry, you’re angry. It doesn’t have to be this way. Or does it?
Where is your god?
Where was he when Ivar tore Erik apart with no mercy?
He didn’t have the right to take a life.
But you had no business explaining these things to a heathen.
Yet…feelings were universal. You knew this now, you knew this as surely as you knew you needed air to breath. Because when the two of you were sitting on his bed suddenly there was no heaven or hell. There was no Valhalla or purgatory. No one god, nor multiple gods.
There was only skin, breath and tension.
“You asked for me Ivar. What more do you want?” Your voice inquiries, frustrated. As soon as the question is asked, you realize you’re scared of the answer.
“You know what I want, nun. Don’t play coy. Or stupid. You’re not stupid.” he spits, his expression scornful. You flinch. He’s being hateful, cruel.
But did you expect anything else? Heathens had feelings too, and his apparently have been hurt.
“No, I don’t. I really don’t.” You swallow, suddenly feeling brave. If he said it out loud, if you finally talked about all of this, perhaps he could see how ridiculous and impossible the situation was.
“Renounce your god, Y/N. Be mine.” his voice is definitive but his eyes are looking fragile, almost weak. You purse your lips instantly, your heart is starting to pump and beat at an impossible pace, you swear it’s going to fly right out of your ribcage.
The thought makes you angry and scared. Did he really think he could persuade you into such heresy? He might have been king. Hell, he might have been a god around here. But he was no more than a misguided cruel man to you.
In the heat of the moment, you speak your mind, your cheeks catching fire. “You might be a king around here, Ivar Lothbrok. Some people might even call you a god. But you are nothing more than a sad, lost, little man for me.” You spit, then immediately regret it while watching his expression crumple momentarily.
His face begins to shiver a little, then his entire body shakes like he’s about to explode.
“I hate you!” he roars, launching as his hands grip your throat. You stumble back onto the bed, his body weight pressing you onto the furs beneath. He squeezes, all you see is black. “I hate you, and your Christian god!” he screams in your face. The moment seems immense, yet it can’t be more than two or three seconds before the pressure around your throat eases up and all you can see is the blue of the ocean in his eyes. Then you feel the wetness on your face. Then it finally clicks - Ivar the Boneless is lying on top of you, crying.
Your chest is heaving, rising and falling - desperate for air.
Ivar’s fingers slowly let go, like a snake slowly peeling off its skin. Then he rolls to his back next to you silently. You can hear him breathing but neither one of you speaks for a long time afterwards.
“I should go.” You mumble eventually. All tears have dried, there was nothing left to shed for the beautiful, crippled, incredibly messed up young man.
“I should send you back. Or give you to my men.” he retorts, spiteful. You turn to look at him, pressing your cheek against the fabrics, but he won’t look at you - a petulant child.
“I can’t go back. They won’t have me…they will never believe that…well…” Your voice travels. The priests would never believe your virtue had remained intact in Viking-land where rape came as easy as the swatting of a fly.
“Sleep, Ivar the boneless. I hope tonight’s dreams will bring you remorse and compassion.” you whisper and remove yourself from his bed.
In your chamber, the night feels colder and darker now. You pray for forgiveness and guidance but god is silent as ever.
You wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. The skin of your shoulder is bare and the covers have slid to the floor. You realize you feel asleep crying, before you could even change your clothes.
A dark shadow in the corner of the room startles you and now you’re wide awake and reaching for the covers as he leans forward - his serpentine eyes latching onto every centimetre of skin. “Good morning, Y/N.” Ivar’s voice sounds cheerful as ever. Was last night just a bad dream?
“Good morning. W-what are you doing here?” you ask, disoriented. “Now, now. That is no way to address your king, is it, nun?” he points out. The question lingers. The boundaries are completely mixed up now. “But since last night had left us both pretty upset - I will let it slide. For now.” he gestures with one hand and a nod.
“The servant girls are going down to the river soon to fetch water and…ah, other things. Today you will join them.” he says somewhat ceremoniously, but it feels like you’re missing something here.
“I better go now.” he announces after a moment of silence, then takes his crutches and disappears - leaving you confused and dumbfounded.
After washing and preparing for the day you join the rest of the servant girls as instructed. The walk to the river is strange…it feels longer, and you can almost feel the tension in the air when they whisper amongst themselves - giving you strange looks.
One of the girls, Hilda, is frowning as she whispers something in Tora’s ear. A third girl you don’t know overhears and giggles. Hilda hisses as she suddenly begins to walk your way, her shoulder bumps into yours, nearly knocking you over with the stack of dirty clothes you’re holding. “Do you really think it is wise, Hilda?” the nameless girl asks provokingly, she seems younger.
“What is she going to do? They say king Ivar no longer keeps her under his wing. I guess this whore of a nun is out of luck.” Hilda says, giving you a hostile look.
Swallowing, you don’t say another word to them. Instead, you sit on a rock, ankle-deep in the cold river as you begin to wash the fabrics. Soon, your hands turn blue and numb. At first they shake with the cold and it feels like hundreds of tiny pins are piercing the frozen skin - but after a while you lose all sensation in them.
The other girls laugh and talk as they go about their chores. A few hours later, when the sun is already high in the sky, they tell you it’s time to go back. You are shuffling close behind them, carrying the largest basket of clothes - they are wet now and naturally heavier.
Walking through the main square on your way to Ivar’s cabin, you can see the men standing outside and eyeing you and the other servant girls shamelessly. Suddenly, someone sends out their leg, tackling you and sending all the wet clothes into the muddy puddles beneath you. You land on your hands and feet, feeling a few drops of mud on your cheek.
“Christian Nun, the dirt suits you.” he mocks, a small group of men soon huddles behind him.
hello good people of the fandom and welcome to yet another annoying little update. if you’re here and reading this please comment, say hello, let me know you’re still alive and interested!
i’ve been reading your comments. been hearing your thoughts and wishes and rest assured - I WILL BE DELIVERING MUWHAHAA.
this whole CO-VID situation is a shit show, to say the least. between work and other obligations i don’t have a lot of time to write, but i love this story and i love how much you love it. so don’t worry. next part is coming very soon. one thing i do ask of you is PLEASE;
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The days that followed Erik’s execution were stressful. As soon as Ivar was done unleashing his wrath on the warrior who dared to step out of line - Y/N assumed he’d satisfy his need for revenge and his thirst for blood. But surprisingly enough, the opposite seemed to happen. Ivar was becoming increasingly frustrated, upset and volatile. He’d lash out, break things, train in the woods for hours on end. Most of all, he’d avoid Y/N and barely seek to engage her in any sort of interaction.
Sitting in her bed, Y/N caressed her wooden cross with a delicate finger as she tried to replay the events that followed Erik’s death that night.
“Come closer Y/N. Help me wash away my sins.”
His voice taunted her, haunting her conscious mind at all hours of the day. Then, as the sun set on another day in bitter-sweet captivity, the unique sound of his walk would reach her cautious ears. Those crutches thumping against the ground. The sound they made when put down as his bed squeaked. Y/N bit her lip and fought off the fantasies. The fantasies one simple, yet sinful collision, had planted within her.
His voice hummed softly in her ears as she grabbed the cloth, dipping it in the warm waters. If her soul belonged to an element, she thought, it’d have been water. Ivar’s was fire, no doubt. They were so very different. Her conscious mind mused as her eyes wandered to the man sitting on his bed, a little too close, and a little too eager to rid himself of his clothes.
At that point Y/N was done lying to herself. She craved intimacy. She craved what all men and women craved by nature regardless of their color, religion or alliance.
Her hand trembled across his chest as blood began to mix with water. Her eyes studied his blood-spattered torso with hypnotic fascination. The symbolic irony in the thought of water = her soul, cleansing blood = Ivar’s sins, was not lost on her. Ivar didn’t say anything, he just stared at her through a pair of large blue eyes, and for the first time she saw something else in them…could it be…caution?
Dipping the blood-soaked cloth back into the waters, she squeezed over and over, making the cloth clean again. As soon as she pulled it out once more, intending to continue, Ivar spoke. “I remember my mother used to do this a lot.” His voice sounds far off. “She is the only one who ever loved me, you know.” suddenly his voice sounds vulnerable and Y/N swears it’s about to crack. What would she do if he cried now? The thought is absolutely heartbreaking. Especially because it is not true. And she wants to tell him he’s wrong. She want to tell him she…too.
Opening her mouth to speak, he waits. He leans forward, his eyes shifting between the cloth floating in the air between them, then her slightly parted lips. His eyes drink the sight of her lips with wonder and curiosity and desperation. He wants her to say something. But Y/N backs down. Instead, her hand finds his right pectoral and begins to move in slow and steady circles. She notices the movement under his chest as he sucks the air in, but in a flash Ivar’s hand is behind her neck and he forces their mouths together.
His mouth is demanding as a soft sigh escapes him. The hand that holds her against him is firm, but the lips that open on top of hers are in no hurry, just in great need.
For a moment everything goes black. Y/N forgets how to breath. Inhaling, all she can allow into her is Ivar. His breath feels cold, like smelling a snowball. He tastes crisp.
Mere seconds stretch onto months or years, she’s not entirely sure. But the moment feels longer than her entire period in the Scandinavian captivity. Ivar groans as his hand tightens its grip of her neck for a split second, then he lets go. But his mouth is hungry, relentless. He’s been waiting for this moment for far too long, and is now determined to make it last as long as she’d allow it.
Y/N pulls back too soon. What a fool I’ve been. She shakes her head when the memory strikes again. How she pulled back, stammering, shaking her head in disapproval.
“My god would not be happy about this, Ivar.” she says as her eyes harden. They take in every bit of the mesmerizing sight before her. His lean torso is almost shaking, his chest heaving with labored breathing, his hands in fists. Those careful eyes are now blue flames full of arousal and want. No trace of a once cripple boy, he’s now all man.
“Well, I do not see him here, Y/N. Do you?” he asks, a mixture of hurt and anger in his voice as he spreads his hands and looks around. “Where is your god now, Y/N? Where was he when I took a man’s life, if it’s so wrong?” he continues to spit venom as if he’s looking for an answer that would make sense on her face. There is no answer.
At that moment, even her faith is lacking - if not lost, altogether.
Ivar seemed to be taking his sweet time as the scenario unfolded before him. His face was almost expressionless, nonchalant, showing little to no emotion in those deep ocean eyes. They altered between the nun’s almost naked body and Erik’s terrified face - the man looked like he was staring at the angel of death right in the face.
But under the surface Ivar wasn’t as calm as he’d portrayed himself to be. Underneath the surface he was seething. Someone was trying to steal his beloved and most precious prize. Because that’s all she was to him, right? A tiny voice inquired in his head. Just a prize. A means to an end. A tiny lapdog or a lamb he could drag around on a leash, to keep him entertained when he was bored. No, Y/N was not just that - and Ivar has been lying to himself for quite some time now.
Granted, he liked the stories. The tales about the Christian god and all the miracles he performed. His heathen heart sped up just a tad bit in her presence when he felt the strength of her belief whenever she clutched onto the simple wooden cross hanging from her neck. He allowed it because however insignificant this little piece of wood was - to her it seemed priceless. More precious than any piece of silver and gold they robbed from the temples.
“I’m going to make an example out of you, Erik.” Ivar said eventually, his tone deceptively even. Almost musical. “Get up. Y/N. Get up.” he prompted the nun. An expression of sheer horror flashed across his face, but the warrior did not speak. “Walk out. Walk out now.” Ivar instructed, and Erik obeyed without another world, looking every bit like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
“Fix yourself, nun. Then join us. You should see this too.” Ivar said without even taking his eyes off of his new prey.
Y/N adjusted herself shakily, covering every bit of skin that was revealed to the lecherous man that was about to meet his ruthless end soon, for his crime. A part of her almost pitied him because overtime, she had learned to know Ivar and what he could be like when someone had tried to take away his toy. The thought that she was merely a toy to him hurt, a lot. But she had a feeling it was going to hurt Erik much much more.
By the time Y/N walked out, joining the roaring crowd outside, she could spot Ivar standing in the middle of the circle. His men stood behind him and Erik was kneeling on the floor. She had heard of the blood eagle before - terrifying tales of betrayal never going unpunished. Of lungs being pulled out and spines exposed, left out to freeze all night - only to be snapped like a twig at the crack of dawn.
At first she couldn’t see too well, but Ivar’s hands were clearly preoccupied. She could see his face though. And his face wore an expression of great effort. The closer she grew, the more she could hear. The sound of cracking bones over the laughter and cheering of the people was barely audible at first. But once her eyes registered the sight before her - it was all she could hear.
Ivar was removing Erik’s fingers one by one. With each finger he tore off, another roar of agony pierced the cold night air. He threw them into a pile at Y/N’s feet without even looking at her. How strange. It was almost like he could sense her presence, somehow.
Erik fell forward, the snow around him now stained crimson red. He sobbed, his long hair hiding a good portion of his face. “Good god.” Y/N’s voice betrayed her just when Ivar’s eyes found hers. All these contradicting emotions were raging inside her. Horror. Gratitude. Disgust. Mercy. Anger.
Ivar’s eyes are hollow as he tears them away from her, raising his bloodied hands as if he was intending to hug his blood-thirsty crowd. They’re cheering for him. They love their fearless leader.
He smiles for a split second. Revealing his lovely pearly whites that she’s learned to appreciate over time. But she knows his charm is just a beautiful mask. He is a killer.“Let every man, woman and child in Kattegat know!” He roared out of the blue, catching his crowd off guard. “This is the price you pay for trying to steal what is mine. And Erik’s end is nowhere near, although I’m sure he wishes it to be.” Ivar announced, stepping closer to the fingerless man bleeding on the ground.
“By the time I will be done with him, he will beg for death.”
At one point Y/N looks away, but Ivar makes her watch. His roar is more than enough to let her know he means business. So she continues to watch as Erik transforms into…something she can barely recognize.
When his voice finally dies down every tear on Y/N’s face has dried off. His soul, as she believed, left his body - and all that was left behind was an exceptionally messy meat suit. The thought makes her want to hurl.
Once the crowd is dispersed Ivar takes Y/N’S hand, leading her back into the hall and through his bedroom. A slave girl soon rushes over with water and clothes. Noticing the cleaning tools, Y/N turns to look at Ivar, only to realize there is blood everywhere - on his neck, his forearms, his chest. Ivar begins to remove his blood-splattered clothes and for a few moments he acts like she doesn’t exist, like he’s all alone. Y/N watches silently.
Eventually he speaks.
“I would like to know what you must be thinking of me right now, nun.” He says, and the way he expresses the word “nun” makes her uneasy. Clearing her throat, Y/N speaks. “I…am in awe. Speechless.” she admits. Ivar doesn’t seem happy. His expression is unreadable, blocked.
“Have you got nothing to say?” he asks after a long moment, his eyes looking like hard pebbles.
Eyeing the slavegirl, Y/N is uncomfortable, unwilling to speak freely. Ivar nods and eyes the girl as she intends to move closer to wash him. “Leave us.” he commands and the girl scurries away.
“I’m grateful…but…executions aren’t something to be taken lightly in my world, Ivar.” Y/N explains. The thought of a life being taken so swiftly, so brutally. An entire lineage being cut off as if one had merely plucked a blade of grass. Nothing more.
“Yes, we’ve spoken of this before many times.” Ivar muses, then eyes the cloth and pot of water that was left beside his bed. He sits down and eyes Y/N wearily for a long moment before reaching out a hand.
summary: Ivar is the Sergeant at Arms in the Devil’s Vessels MC. You are his girlfriend and he tries to keep you out of his deals but they are going through a particularly nasty one with the English, and the club decides that it is safer for their women to know instead of remaining in the dark.
WARNINGS:swearing, mentions of physical and mental abuse
A/N:I’ve been working on this for two weeks now, hoping you guys like it. I was kind of thinking about doing a miniseries about the brothers and their women in this particular AU if this is popular enough, also THIS IMAGINE IS PRETTY LONG (9 pages on google docs)
Ivar’s eyes wandered around the table, looking menacingly down at the newly patched in members. He didn’t trust them, the last new member that they patched in had ended up betraying them, given he didn’t get very far with their secrets, and Ivar killed him without a second thought. It’s not like devotion to the club was a new concept for him, and in fact he didn’t mind doing the dirty work. On occasion, he craved blood, and conflict was always welcome, so long as confidential information about the club did not escape the confines of the members minds, and as long as you were a safe distance from harm. Ivar admired how you always understood that he didn’t want to talk about club business with you unless the situation permitted, and you never asked him to stop doing the dangerous work. You knew that without the club, Ivar wouldn’t really know what to do with himself.
Bjorn cleared his throat suddenly, drawing Ivar out of his thoughts. “Ivar, the English are demanding more guns. You’re my Sergeant at Arms, do we have the means to provide?”
Ivar folded his hands in his lap. “We have the means, but I think our time would be better spent elsewhere at this point. We cannot have them thinking that we will be at their side as soon as they ask it, after all.”
Ubbe nodded in agreement. “I hear they have a civil war brewing, we do not want mass murder connected to our guns.”
“We’ll have to deal with their wrath when we tell them that we are no longer going to provide. Therefore, I think we should tell our women about what has been happening. It is better for them to not be in the dark. If it does get nasty, we need to move everyone into the clubhouse. We’ll take a vote on everything before we leave.”
Ivar came home to you that night exhausted. He hung his kutte up on the coat rack and walked to the kitchen, where you were sitting at the table, coffee cup clutched in your hand. You looked up and smiled, kissing him before he sat down across from you. “We have some business to discuss, my love. Club business.”
Your hands clenching down on the mug did not go unnoticed by Ivar, so he reached over and took one between his fingers, squeezing lightly. “Am I the only woman that is being involved?”
He shook his head. “No, all the old ladies are being brought into the loop in case something happens.” It was hard for him to tell you about anything. You were strong, stronger than any woman he knew, but he kept you out of this for a reason- to keep you safe. His biggest concern was if telling you would help or hurt the situation, but he didn’t have a choice in that, Bjorn had decided, and that was final.
So he started with how the club got into bed with the English in the first place. It had started with their father Ragnar looking to expand the club, and you knew that, but you had thought the business with the English to be done when Ragnar died. Ivar told you that it never ended there, the sons of Ragnar killed Aella, and then went to business with his rival in England. The trading started off with a small order of fifty guns, and then the demands became larger. “We have received intel that our guns are being used in civil street warfare. Innocents have been killed, and we have decided not to supply them with the means to kill anymore. The women have been brought in because we think the English will retaliate, and I need you to be ready to get to the clubhouse and stay as soon as I tell you to.” Your hands were shaking in his, he brought both to his mouth and kissed one knuckle on each, then motioned for you to stand. Ivar’s arm circled your back and swept under your knees, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.
“You have to come back to me, Ivar. If a deal goes south, you have to promise to come back.”
Ivar’s hand cradled the back of your head, kissed your forehead, and pulled you closer to him, his strong arms keeping you in place while he whispered to you. “I’ll always come back for you. Nothing and no one will keep me away. Do you understand, kitten?”
That night was stuck in Ivar’s head as he pulled up next to his brothers in the old warehouse the English had agreed to meet them in. Bjorn, Ubbe, and Hvitserk all looked a bit distracted, their faces plastered with a hard expression to remain strong. Ivar pulled his helmet from his head and glared in the direction of the open door. “How did Margrethe take the news, Ubbe?”
He chuckled half- heartedly, like he was trying to relieve the tension that would only get worse once he said something. Ubbe stared at the ground for a good minute before he ran his index finger and thumb across his eyebrows to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I think she’s gone fucking insane.” All of the brothers looked at him for a moment, trying to assess if he was serious about what he was saying. “She did not talk to me the rest of the night, she wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. It’s like I broke her.” Hvitserk patted Ubbe’s shoulder in comfort and then they looked to Bjorn, who answered without having to be asked.
“Torvi has been involved in sour deals before, but that was previous to our children. She has arranged for them to stay with her parents on the East Coast until the smoke has cleared, she is worried about them having a father after this is done more than anything else.” Before they could say anything else, they were surrounded by black pickups and SUV’s, but only three people stepped out: Aethelwulf and his two sons.
The brothers did not move from their bikes save for Bjorn and Ubbe, who came to the center of the gathering with their arms crossed over their chest. “Why did you need to meet with me? Do we need a change of transport?” Aethelwulf kept his hands folded in front of him, his two sons stepping back so that their father was at the front. Everyone became silent, not trusting what would happen next. “Is there a problem I should know about, gentleman?”
Bjorn was the first to speak, his eyes darting from Aethelwulf to his sons. “You made a demand rather than a request last time I spoke with you. The Devils Vessels MC does not bow to demands.” Aethelwulf stepped closer, his eyes narrowing menacingly. Sigurd and Ivar stepped forward now, flanking Bjorn and Ubbe, who placed their hands on the guns that were nestled between the waistband of their jeans. “Do not get closer. It will end badly, Aethelwulf, I warn you.”
“You will not deny me my guns, my ammo, the spark that I need. I have to ask why the sudden change of heart? Besides the demanding.”
“We didn’t realize you were using the guns to fight a civil war, and to kill innocent people.” Ubbe said, and Aethelwulf glanced in his direction, nodding.
Aethelwulf stepped back to his sons, and the Lothbrok brothers folded into themselves, lining up to get back on their bikes now. The boys straddled the motorcycles and watched Aethelwulf as he stopped at the door to one of the SUV’s. “Boys!” He grinned. “I always get what I want, whether it be by force or will.” Before they could blink, he produced a gun and aimed. The brothers shouted warnings, but before they could duck down, the bullet rang in the air.
One hit Siguard’s shoulder, the other in between his eyes. All Ivar felt was the warm spray on his neck. His brother was hunched over his bike beside him, the blood pouring down the sleek paint from the wounds. Bjorn screamed out in rage, tears threatening to spill over, fists clenched and raised at his sides. Ubbe drew his weapon, firing shots while the vehicles pulled away, the bullets taking out the glass. The motorcycles fired up just moments later, and the boys rode with guns pointed in the direction of the caravan. Ivar felt numb, his brothers blood was coating the backside of him, and somehow he was out here with Bjorn, Ubbe, and Hvitserk. He felt nothing, how was that possible? Ivar was not at all close to Sigurd, but shouldn’t he have felt something other than empty? He wasn’t mad, or unhappy, he was just indifferent.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what you would say, what the look on your face would be when he showed up at home looking like that. He was sure you would be horrified, ask what happened, what went wrong. And he would have to tell you, because war was brewing even now, as they sped down the roads at the highest speeds they could handle to catch up with demons. Ivar felt that he had failed at protecting you from his life in the club, couldn’t shelter you from the horrors and the loss that living this kind of life came with. But what else could he do? He couldn’t stand to be without you, and you wanted to take these chances for him. Who was he to control you?
Ivar threw his kutte down on the laundry room floor and joined you in the shower after stripping himself of his clothes. You shuddered when the rush of cold air hit you, but it was immediately replaced by his warmth. Ivar turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as he brought you up to kiss him. When he pulled away, you grabbed the loofa from behind him and turned his back to you. You tried to hold in the gasp when you saw the blood that was now washing down his back. Ivar’s shoulders tensed and you continued onto the task, putting soap on the loofa and rubbing it across his back.
Lounging on the couch later on, Ivar cradled you between his legs, his arms resting on your chest. He knew you would ask him what happened at some point, why all that blood was there, but you started off with a question he didn’t expect. “What happened at that deal today?”
Ivar went silent. “How did you find out about that?”
“Torvi called before you got home. She told me to ask you about it.” You spun and faced him, adjusting your legs so that you were straddling him, your arms around his neck, his hands resting on your hips. “So what happened?” Ivar considered for awhile. How was he supposed to answer that? When a few minutes passed and he still didn’t say anything, you put a hand on his shoulder. “Ivar, it’s okay to tell me. Let me protect you for once.”
“Sigurd is dead. We told the English we wouldn’t sell them guns anymore, and Aethelwulf shot him. Twice.” You knew he didn’t harbor any love for his late brother Sigurd, but you still leaned forward and embraced him, pressing him close to your chest, as close as he could get. “We’ve made the decision to move our women into the clubhouse. I need you to have your stuff packed because we are leaving tomorrow morning, plan to stay for a week.” He held you tighter.
“Do you think they will come after us?”
He knew that you didn’t want to hear him say yes, even if that was what he thought. One of his hands moved up higher to hold the nape of your neck, the arm fitting snugly around your waist. He only wanted to comfort you, but with a question like that, he wasn’t sure how. Finally, Ivar sighed and kissed your shoulder. “I’m going to do my best to protect you, Y/N. I’ll kill anyone that lays a hand on you, that’s a promise.” Ivar kissed you, capturing your lips in a sensuous, slow burning fire, his hands caressing your face gently, like he would break if he pressed on your skin just a little bit. “I’ll always take care of you, angel.”
You weren’t allowed to leave, that was all you knew. You were more vulnerable if you left, especially without Ivar or one of the boys to protect you. Ivar made it his personal rule that you wouldn’t leave the clubhouse without him or one of his brothers, but you were not to leave with a member or a prospect, he didn’t trust them with you that much.
Torvi was sitting at the bar with a drink in her hand, you behind mixing more. It was only the girls right now, all the men were out riding, finding more help to deal with the English that were breathing down their necks. Margrethe was sulking on the couch in the corner, some of the groupies hanging around with her, hoping to become an old lady like her. Torvi was not fond of Margrethe, and you were on the fence, but in the end she just needed help. The two of you were trying to remain strong, be role models for the other girls, but it was hard to do so when you weren’t sure if you would see the men that you loved. “Do the kids know why they are going with their grandparents?”
Torvi shook her head. “I told them that it was because I would be very busy for a few weeks. My parents know, I made sure to prepare them for anything that could come. My father is chief of police over where they live, so they will be living with a protective police detail.” She swirled the small black straw in her drink for a moment, and then sighed, blinking back tears. “They just love Bjorn so much. I can only hope he is spared in this fight.”
You nodded. “He’ll be okay. Bjorn loves his children more than life, he will make sure to get back alive.”
“What about Ivar?”
You poured yourself a drink then. “We have a life to build together. He promised that he would come back to me, that he would protect me.” You looked up at her then. “I have to hold onto that.” The two of you remained silent while the groupies continued their worried chatter, expressing their concern for the men, even the ones that were taken. You didn’t mind though, Ivar only had eyes for you, and the rest of the women were too scared to even look at him. When the chatter finally stopped, it was quiet, eerily so. Torvi stood from the bar and looked out the window for a moment, her eyebrows crinkling while she stared intently. “What’s going on?”
Her eyes widened and she began screaming commands. “Get in the rooms, go!” You glanced to see what she was so worried about. The English had broken into the compound, their guns were poised at the clubhouse as they approached quickly. “Y/N, we have to go.” You nodded and took the gun from underneath the counter, grabbing a knife to give to Torvi. “We have to go now!” You began to run down the hallways just as they burst through the door, bullets blazing trails in the walls.
You grabbed Torvi’s arm and pulled her to you. “They can climb out the windows, Margrethe can start getting them out. Go!” Torvi went to start the mission while you stayed back, your finger pushing down on the trigger more times than you could count. The men were advancing quickly, one person with a pistol was nothing compared to five men and machine guns. You shot a good few dead, and when the gun was empty, you ran. Ivar’s room was low to the ground, if you could get there and get out, you would be okay, you knew it. The noise of the men shouting at one another was deafening, and they were getting closer, they were faster than you. Your breaths were getting faster and more ragged, your legs tired and unsteady.
A hand reached out and grabbed your arm, swinging your entire body back to theirs. Your hand gripped the pistol tighter and smashed the butt of the gun against his temple, but his strength kept you pinned to him as he fell. The men took the opportunity to grab your arms and haul you up, even as you fought against them, they didn’t stop walking. “Let go of me!” You kicked and screamed but to no avail, they were too strong for you. Finally, they stopped in front of a black SUV, a man with curly hair and a beard grinned.
“I’m Aethelwulf. Your name?”
“Kiss my ass.” You finished off the sentence by spitting in his face, scowling while he wiped at it with his sleeve.
“Boys, shut her up, won’t you?” Your eyes widened and you started kicking again, hoping to get free of them. One man held you while the other raised his gun and smacked it against the back of your head. “Put her in the back, and bind her hands and feet. We can’t have her escaping on us.”
They had been torturing you for days, leaving a deep gash at the top of your cheek that was identical to Ivar’s. They also gave you a busted lip and left you badly bruised. Aethelwulf was relentless about getting information from you, beating you until you were screaming but not badly enough so that you would die. He kept you on a 24 hour watch, so no one could get to you except him and his sons. He made sure you were completely at his mercy all the time, and you didn’t know about the trick he had up his sleeve. The last time he interrogated you, he made sure he got in your head. “You really think you aren’t going to tell me?”
“Since I’m not a rat, you won’t be getting anything out of me.”
He nodded and sighed. “Ivar knows you’re here.” He smirked when he saw your eyebrows raise. “You were the prize in that raid. He had an old debt, you were the payment.” You dropped your head, tears welling in your eyes. Was this true? No, Ivar wouldn’t trade you, he loved you too much. “We’re still figuring out what to do with you, since you are ours to do with as we please now.”
He raised his eyebrows suggestively, a smirk playing on his lips. You scoffed, “I won’t be your whore.”
Aethelwulf chuckled a bit. “Sweetheart, you might not have a choice.”
Ivar, Bjorn, and Ubbe worked tirelessly to make a deal with the English to get you back. Ivar barely slept, he always tried to reach for you in the night but came up empty. When he was by himself, he cried at his loss, fearing he would never see you again, or you would come back in pieces- whether your mind was in pieces, or your physical state. His work in the club got more intense, he rode alone at night, worked on the bikes or cars in his free time, anything to keep himself distracted.
Now, sitting at the table with just his brothers, they waited for him to look at anything but the wall. Ubbe glanced at Bjorn every now and then to see if he would say anything. When a few minutes passed, Bjorn put a hand on Ivar’s shoulder and brought him out of his daze. “Ivar, we are going to get her back.”
He nodded. “I just don’t want her to be abused. I am so worried her mind will come back to me broken.” The brothers didn’t respond to that, just assured him that they would get you back. They planned for days, negotiating back and forth with the English while Aethelwulf taunted them over the phone about what he was doing to you. As each day passed, Ivar got more and more aggressive and vengeful, wanting you back so badly. Now, today, Bjorn had news for Ivar. “What’s happening in the negotiations?”
“We’ve come to an agreement.” Ivar moved to the edge of his seat. “We will provide them with five more shipments of guns and they will find a new supplier, in return, they will give us Y/N back.”
Just days later, you were sat in the back of the black SUV, Aethelwulf’s sons sitting on either side of you, inspecting you while you shrank further and further into yourself. “Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up.” Aethelwulf barked from the front seat, and you let the rest of the ride pass in silence. The driver pulled up to an empty lot, save for the line of motorcycles on the other side of the field.
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw three of them approaching the SUV, guns hung at their sides. “Ivar.” You breathed it like it was a prayer. He had come for you, he was here. The two boys beside you scoffed, but you paid no mind, all you could do was stare. His hair was braided back, his sharp and handsome features standing out, his leather kutte clinging to his shoulders in the sweltering heat of the day. Aethelwulf knocked on the back window and the boy scooted out, reaching back in to pull you across the seat and out into the light. Aethelwulf cut the bonds on your hands but held onto your wrists, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You could hear Ivar protesting him touching you in the background.
“You’re lucky they had the guns, you would have made a great meal for my men.” He growled it to you and then shoved you toward Ivar. You ran to him, across the dusty field to his open arms, crashing into him. His strong arms held you up and spun you around, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you in place.
You were crying, holding onto him as tightly as you could. He dropped you onto the ground, his back bending to accommodate your height difference. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” Ivar held you tight while he held your face in his hands, kissing you hard and feverishly, your hands dropping to his waist. You were finally home, finally there with him, and you could never be happier to be with this man.
![IVAR THE BONELESS (MY ART)[ PEOPLE OF KATTEGAT, WE HAVE A GREAT SACRIFICE.]Alex Høgh Andersen as Iva](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4cb94f634f267d8fe60466e94628c121/tumblr_p4tbarFygE1rie3uvo1_1280.jpg "IVAR THE BONELESS (MY ART)[ PEOPLE OF KATTEGAT, WE HAVE A GREAT SACRIFICE.]Alex Høgh Andersen as Iva")
