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.
A/N: I don’t know where this came from? Hope you guys like it anyway. Also this probably sucks because it’s been some time since I last wrote something but I wrote this piece by the heart.
It had been a long day, being queen wasn’t just sitting and doing nothing. Ivar insisted that you should rule alongside him. That included doing meetings, judgements, talking with earls and all that boring things.
Your body was craving for a relaxing bath, you prepared it yourself. Put some flowers essences, lit up some candles and the water was in the perfect temperature.
You were there just enjoying your time, relaxing and emptying your mind, trying to forget about all the problems and questions you still have to solve.
It took you some time but it was hard not to feel his eyes on you, they literally burned into your skin.
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.
“He couldn’t even look at his parents faces after that. I swear to the gods, master students are just undergraduates on crack.” You rambled lightheartedly, phone on one of your hands and the heavy luggage rolling right next to you. “Oop, sorry.” You apologised to the old, white bearded man attempting to leave the building at the same time you tried to get in. “Thank you.” You mouthed with a smile and a scrunched nose, trying to look past the dark sunglasses of the man holding the door for you.
Ubbe released a short and breathy laugh. You could not see him, but you knew him well enough to notice he sounded way too distracted to formulate a proper answer to your anecdote. You knew he had things to tell you, bubbling under the surface like water about to boil, waiting patiently for you to finish with what you had to say as he always did.
Part of you already knew what he wanted to ask. As much as you loved Ubbe, his drive was wired the same way as all Lothbroks: business, business, business. Sure, he was located in the HR department and understood the way you saw things. But, as a Ragnarsson, he could not see your desire of avoiding a life between cubicles and constant phonecalls.
“Well,” you exhaled, “I’m officially back home.”
“In which hotel are you staying? I can pay you a visit as soon as I finish with these papers.” You could picture him letting go the papers on the table like white pigeons as he casually leaned back against his chair. You waited for the lift, eyes focused on the flicking numbers above your head.
Ubbe knew about your never recovered relationship with your parents. They never called you back, not even after the success of your new business was announced through local and regional media. Although for them, the news of you working for another sector other than theirs after the humiliation they had to endure at your graduation party may have felt like a slap in their faces. No one assisted to your masters graduation other than your remaining English friends. You did receive heartwarming messages from Aslaug and her sons, who apologised for not being there with you. It was a lonely ending for such an important stage of your life, but you swiftly got through it. Soon enough you got into a graduate scheme at the British council and a big part of you was relieved that you got to spend another year without facing the problems awaiting for you in Kattegat.
Now you had consumed all your borrowed time, leaving you drowning in the sterile sand clock you got yourself into, unable to put down roots in your hometown after your parents decided to pull them all out.
“Hotel Boneless and Co.” You mumbled through a dramatic sigh, stretching your arms up and puffing your chest as you heard the ding of the machine and the pop of your bones. You were carefully rolling your suitcase into the mirror covered lift when you heard the wheels of a chair rolling loudly on the other line. “I can send you my location if you don’t know where it is.” You joked as you pressed a button and stepped out of the lift.
It took your family an entire week to contact you. By the time they called to request a meeting through their personal assistant, you had settled yourself in one of Floki’s hotel rooms: the good man not only had a shipbuilding company, he also owned a few hotels in different parts of the world. Him and Helga offered you a small room in their Kattegat resort while you solved your dispute with your parents. Floki understood you, he wasn’t the type who stayed in one place for a long time either. He himself was lost somewhere in Iceland, away from your family and the Ragnarssons. He wanted to create something big, he said.
The little hotel room, although located in the high street of the city where the lights and noise never dies, made you feel locked like a bird in a cage, imprisoned. The panoramic windows were like force fields that separated you from reality: the city veins kept working regardless of your absence, as you stared down helplessly with no restraints that kept you from leaving but no reasons for you to step outside. There was nothing there that indicated your existence, nothing that gave you the reassurance of a home. The gold and white walls screamed luxury, while your surroundings screamed loneliness.
A/N: One thing I want to make clear with the creation of this one shot is that, regardless of what this blog is supposed to be, the final decision on the content you’ll see in this blog falls upon this bitch. I tag my all content and reblogs so you guys can blacklist what you see fit. It’s what you get when you follow me, and I will understand when it comes to a point you won’t want me around your dashboard. However, that process is silent, fuss free. No need to make a big deal out of it. I don’t need no loud anon commenting on what I should or I should not post. Let’s keep this place negativity free, aight? Love you guys xx
Its bright. The warm lights, hanging down the high ceilings and falling down like crystal waterfalls shining like fairy dust, their shimmering accentuated every now and then by a camera flashing around the room. The music playing in the background sounded like the product of classicism and modern era clashing together, with the clinking sound of champagne glasses cutting the melody to celebrate your new milestone. Your family and closest friends gathered in the very centre of the hall, their polished tuxedos and flowy dresses giving away a clear statement of their wealth and power. Tonight, they were all here for you.
Yet, you didn’t feel like part of it. Part of your own party.
Summary: As a part of his therapy, Ivar writes letters to unwind and keep track of his mental health progress. He writes to his mom, he misses her. He writes to Sigurd, sometimes he regrets his departure. One night, he writes about her.
Warnings: Angst
Words: 3864
A/N: (3/5/20) I had this idea in my head that I simply could not let go.
(10/4/21) P.S: Can’t promise I’m back, but I’m definitely turning to writing as a way of winding down. I hope you guys are alright.
Some nights, while the city sleeps, Ivar stays awake. Like an owl looking for a prey, the Ragnarsson remains seated upright at the edge of his bed, his now heavily tattooed chest exposed to the world through the panoramic window, heaving. Beating.
Some nights were amazing. He got his drivers license, and Freydis got him an adapted Bentley as a gift. He would spend the nights driving by himself down the empty streets of Kattegat, not worrying about speeding tickets or angry neighbours.
Not so long ago, he learned his wife was finally carrying a child, her round belly reminding him that he had a legacy to keep, now that the Lothbrok dynasty seemed to be more fragmented than ever. After spending thousands of krone on in vitro fertilisation, the universe seemed to work in his favour. Their favour. If the gods were unwilling to bless them two, science would. These were the nights that were made for celebrations, champaign showers and water for the mother to be.
Some nights were alright. Ivar would come back after a long day of meetings and getting his ass kissed, to find Freydis immersed in her little personal projects. He would tell Erik to pick up some takeaway while he washed away the power and wrapped himself in mundane clothes. He would eat in silence, elbows propped on the counter and eyes on the horizon, watching the sun kiss the skyscrapers goodbye as he mindlessly put food in his mouth. Then he would take his new baby for a ride, to the bar he now owned with his brother Hvitserk.
Ivar would go there, check the inventory and the register, ask the employees how everything was going and what could he do for them. Sometimes he would also find Hvitserk at the bar, practicing the cocktail skills he had been mastering since he took over your share of the bar. Ivar would simply walk past, not entirely avoiding making contact with his sibling but prefering to keep a healthy distance from the person that substituted you. He started visiting the local more often after you left, feeling the responsibility to continue what you started. He found peace in the simplicity of managing a bar: at the office, he was a tyrannic boss, voice always booming through the walls, keeping both employees and investors in check. At the bar, he was just the young lovestruck Ivar he once was. He understood then, why you wished to escape from it all. You are just a memory now, but sometimes he still feels you around, checking on the girls, checking on him.
Some nights were… Painful. Therapy had a big presence in his life. He no longer needed a cane thanks to nurse Hansen, his physical therapist. But on some days, the stress and the weather would simply take a toll on his legs, forcing him to carry around that metal stick that reminded him that he was, in fact, human.
Before you left, Freydis figured out a question that would calm Ivar down and make him focus: “What would Dr. Nielsen tell you to do?”. That was how she got him to control himself and open up the last time he was onstage, the night she met you. They were just engaged back then. Oh, how quick did time pass. Ivar no longer organised events like that. He was too consumed by his two jobs. There were nights where Freydis would be on business trips, or out hanging out with friends until the next morning, nights where absences were felt more than presences. But he was coping now. Dr. Nielsen helped the youngest Lothbrok greatly since his great breakdown.
Ivar had thought he physically felt his heart break the night he got down the stage to find you, only to figure out you were gone after most of the guests had left the hotel ballroom. He felt compelled to call you dozens of times to ask for an explanation. After his calls went unanswered, he decided to drive around town in search of you, not knowing where to start, not knowing where to ask, anger poisoning his brain and taking over his actions. That night he stayed at Loki’s after barging in to see if you were hiding there like “the coward you were”. He hated the fact that you could make him feel that weak. It felt like he was putty and Freydis was fire, hardening him the more he was exposed to her. You were water, turning him into a pliable being, at mercy of your actions.
For five days in a row, he found himself staying at his office until late at night, observing his office telephone with attention and indecision, silently praying for you to pick up the phone, practicing the rage filled words he was about to rain down on you the moment you uttered a response. He prayed with ill intentions, but he prayed nonetheless. It was his last resort.
The earth seemed to crack open and swallow him whole the moment he gathered all his courage and dialed your number, only to hear an automated voice telling him that the number no longer existed. He sat there, phone on his hand as a white noise took over the voice message, thinking about the different possibilities that could have happened for you to cancel your line. Maybe, he thought. Maybe I really asked for too much this time.
“Fuck no,” Ivar reflected out loud as he tossed his phone away, “In no fucking way this is my fault.”
“Ivar?” A distant voice reverberated through the glass corridors. It sounded familiar. The youngest Ragnarsson frowned, weirded out by the fact that one of his brothers was still in the office this late.
It wasn’t just one of his brothers, but the three of them.
“Freydis called us asking where you were. You’ve been out late at night for many days in a row, she literally just confronted each one of us asking whether you were having an affair.” Hvitserk said, arms crossed as he leaned on the door frame. “That woman nearly dragged each one of us out to look for you.” Ivar pursed his lips, outraged by such accusations from his then fiancée.
“Well, tell her I’d never do such thing.” He answered, swatting his hand in annoyance. “I am surprised she came to that conclusion, knowing how busy I always am as the bloody CEO!” He exclaimed, letting the following silence fill the room as he flashed a disdainful look towards his brothers.
“Why are you here, brother?” Ubbe finally dared to ask, observing his youngest sibling sway in his chair from side to side.
Ivar looked up for a brief moment, like a puppy who lost his favourite toy, and decided to tell them the whole story. That the had the hunch you were back from a strange event where someone knocked on his penthouse door. To that, Ubbe awkwardly shifted in his place, still listening intently. Ivar explained that he sent you an invite to his inaguration gala and how he asked you to stay for his speech so you could have a dance afterwards, unaware of the utterly personal turn his speech would take just because an old man decided to drink a bit more than usual that night. How he waited for you, called you and looked for you tirelessly, frustration filling his voice as he talked about how you had been avoiding him for a week now, changing your phone number in the process.
“If she thinks she can avoid me by changing numbers she’s dead wrong. We’re business partners, for fucks sake!” He complained, registering the situation as a burden. “I’ll find her new phone sooner or later.”
Unbeknownst Ivar, tension had been gradually building up as he spoke, his three brothers standing still in their places, not knowing how to break the news. Sure they knew this day would come, but none of the three expected to be trapped with the ticking bomb. It was way too soon. Too recent.
Hell, it was about you. It was most likely no amount of time would soften the blow.
Ubbe took a step forward, leaning on the hardwood desk. With a resigned tone, he mumbled:
“She’s gone, Ivar.” He swallowed. “(Y/n) left Kattegat.”
Already motionless before, Ivar remained still. He darted his eyes to look at his brother, confusion and fear brewing within him, fueling a fire he thought it was extinguished the day he made Sigurd leave. With trembling lips but a determined voice, he asked how did he know. How did Ubbe Ragnarsson, the brother who would stab his youngest sibling in the back at the slightest opportunity, know the whereabouts of his woman, while he sat there completely lost, disoriented.
With an attempt of a soothing voice, Ubbe confessed that months ago he offered you a job position to work on a humanitarian project he had running in Haiti. Aslaug had stated in her will that she wished to expand the non-profit organisation she created to other countries and Ubbe decided to make his deceased mother’s wish come true. He told Ivar that while you rejected the offer at first, you ended up accepting it the night of his gala. That you made him promise to make the process fast and discreet, and that, while you insisted on paying for the plane tickets, Lothbrok Inc. paid for your travel expenses and necessities. You left three days ago, unnanounced, with only Ubbe at the airport to bid you farewell.
Hvitserk, who remained silent all this time, let him know that you were no longer the owner of the bar you opened together. At that, Ivar panicked, his eyes wide open as he snapped his head towards his older brother. You simply signed a transfer contract, with Ubbe as the witness and five krone as the contingency, stating that you were returning the property to Lothbrok Inc., thus paying your debt to the family and releasing yourself from any ties to Ivar. He tried to soften the blow, letting him know that he didn’t know you gave him your share because you were leaving. He thought it was a rash decision that stemmed from seeing Ivar with a fiancée, that you’d come back and take back the business when you were ready. He promised he’d take care of the bar as well as you took care of it, that nothing would change under his management.
Ivar listened intently, motionless. His breathing was deep, yet steady. He never moved a muscle voluntarily, but his nostrils flared with every breath and his hand, hidden under the desk, shook incontrollably as he processed their words. His piercing gaze was focused on the oldest Aslaugsson, who was now relaxing and straightening his back as he regained his composure.
It felt like every action happened in slow motion, yet the blow came fast. In mere seconds, Ivar had propped himself forward from the chair, one of his hands grabbing the jacket Ubbe was wearing while the other, contracted in a fist, made contact with his right cheek. That is when Bjorn, who had been silent during the whole exchange, stepped in, grabbing the torso of his youngest brother as he struggled to keep himself standing, making sure he didn’t hurt himself.
Sometimes, Ivar still hears his own screams.
“YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!” Ivar accused, eyes absent of tears but voice cracking at the end of the sentence. “SHEWAS GOING TO STAY,” He roared, fists swinging towards his brother’s face. “AND YOU FUCKING TOOK HER FROM ME!”
He lost it that night. The screams he released came from the depths of his sorrow, his eyes only registering red while all his nerves could only feel the desperation taking over his soul. Ivar kept trying to reach Ubbe, unaware of how he repeatedly banged his legs against the desk as Bjorn tried to pin him down.
But what started as a justified outburst gradually led to nonsensical, rage-filled accusations.
“You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? You wanted her and you couldn’t stand the fact that she chose ME!” Ivar recriminated, grabbing a sharp glass ornament and throwing it to his brother. Ubbe pursed his lips, dodging the improvised weapon. “You did this to get back at me, hmm? YOU WANT ALL I HAVE, DON’T YOU?” He seethed, eyes and mouth wide open, exposing his teeth like a menacing predator as he let out a guttural laugh.
Bjorn was having a difficult time restraining him. Years relying on his upper body strength gave Ivar the advantage of resilience amongst his biggest sibling, while Bjorn struggled to keep him in place. Ivar managed to grab the second glass ornament, throwing it as he shrieked.
“DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” his voice boomed in the room, palm pounding his chest as his free hand signaled the whole place. “YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME, I AM IVAR LOTHBROK! YOU CAN’T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!” Ivar kept shouting, cursing as he spat towards Ubbe.
Hvitserk stepped forward, having seen enough, ready to take on his little brother. To his surprise, Ubbe halted him, his arm creating a barrier between Hvitserk and Ivar as he observed with intent and horror etched on his face.
That night, Ivar lost the little progress he made. He broke his femur, dignity left behind as an ambulance carried him to the emergency room.
As if that wasn’t enough, he lost another family member to Lagertha that night.
With a reedy voice as he laid down in the hospital bed, he asked Ubbe one thing:
“Bring her back.” He whispered, his eyes stuck in the ceiling, pretty certain that if he laid his eyes on his brother, he would kill him. “She is working for Lothbrok Inc. now. Bring her back.” His request was met with silence. “That’s an order.” He swallowed, nostrils flaring with each ticking second.
“I’m sorry, Ivar.” Ubbe mumbled. “The Sigurðdóttir Trust is out of your reach.” He reminded him, reopening a wound that Ivar closed not so long ago. “That’s what mother wished.” Ivar snapped his head at the mention of his beloved mother. The brim of his eyes were red like his sclera, a menacing gaze stabbing his brother as Ivar grabbed his wrist.
“You have three days to gather your stuff and leave Lothbrok Inc.” Ivar seethed as he moved his face closer to his brother. “If you’re not gone after that, I will make sure you’ll leave the premises crawling like I crawled as a child.” Ivar swore, releasing his wrist as he let his head drop back to the sterile pillow.
Up to this day, Ivar still saw Ubbe’s action as a huge betrayal. He knew his older brother would return to his life as the new addition of Lagertha’s legal team, Bjorn granted his little brother this little backup plan.
Tonight, his thoughts weighted a little heavier. His eyes scanned the city before focusing on his bedroom, where he finds the clothes he wore today discarded on the leather chair. Behind him, his wife slept peacefully, her baby bumb protuding more and more each passing day. His legs were alright, but with the absence of physical pain he could sense his yearning looming over his head.
Ivar sighs and stands up silently, his bare feet and metallic support dragging on the tiles as he moved to his home office.
Dr. Nielsen taught him the importance of adapted emotional releases. She actively discouraged Ivar from indulging in his impulses and told him to write them down instead. For business meetings, Ivar was told to count until 10, 20 or even 30 if he was encountered with bad news. When it came to personal affairs, Dr. Nielsen told him to write letters addressed to the pertinent subject. Ivar could write them and discard them, write them and take them to therapy or he could write them and send them to the addressee.
It wasn’t the most effective exercise, but it kept his flame at bay. He needed to learn to do that, now that he knew he had a little one coming soon.
Sometimes he wrote to his mother, asking her questions about ruling an empire he wished he had the answer to. Those he kept, as a tool to reflect later on when his ambition peaked. The more emotional ones he’d take to Dr. Nielsen, a proof of his progress on his journey to… normalcy. The ones he wrote to Sigurd, those he threw away. In those pages filled with guilt and rage, he found himself cornered in a bleak past that seemed to refuse to let him go.
Tonight, he thought about you.
It wasn’t like you weren’t a constant presence in his mind, like an annoying tenant in his brain that refused to leave or pay rent. Ivar just chose to remember the best parts of you, those who could be found at the bar you owned, or on his bed when Freydis left him for the night. If he kept you alive that way, he would also keep alive that part of him he thought he lost. You were inevitable, like the pain after a blow or the kiss after a reencounter.
He wishes he could blame you. For leaving, for stepping outside the gala without waiting for your dance. For silently giving away your shares to Hvitserk, who the only thing he knew about bars was how to empty the alcohol pantry. But there is a part of him that cannot physically repulse you.
Ivar sits down and turns on the desk lamp in front of him. He finds his precious pen and puts a piece of paper on the desk. Before starting, he hesitates.
Dear (Y/n),
He groans, crossing the two words with disdain.
Hello.
“Hello?” Ivar shakes his head, crossing the word again.
Hi, princess.
Ivar cringes. No.
Frustrated, he discards the paper. He had done it before. Why was it so hard to do it all over again now?
Just… Jump right in. Start from the beginning, start from the middle, start from the end if you prefer. He recalls the advice of his therapist. Sometimes, formalities are overrated.It may help when you have nothing to say, but it becomes a burden when you got too much to say. Ivar reflected.
And so he did.
Every night I drive through the streets of Kattegat I find myself looking for you wandering around, looking for me to give you a lift, for the memory of our first reencounters were the ones that helped us find redemption.
It is weird, but I still have the need to find you even though I know you are no longer here. The idea of you lives in my head, that I am sure of. The feel of you, that is what I miss.
I guess part of me feels like I still need to apologise for something that I’ve done.
At the sight of his words written on paper, Ivar blinks. He never consciously thought much more ahead of his negations, his feelings dictating the perspectives he kept imposing to his reality.
He sacrificed so much for you. He tried to change for you. He went to therapy, he learned to walk. Ivar tried to become the right man for you, he really tried.
He wished you were there to see it.
Ivar doesn’t really know what he did wrong. All he knows is…
And now that you’re gone for good,
He shakes his head, crossing the last two words.
all I wish for is to be in the wrong this time.
Ivar huffs in frustration.
I wish I had been selfish, I wish I was the old Ivar. I wish I had begged you to stay, to manage this empire I never chos- by my side.
I know you would have never wanted this.
But I know you would have never said no to us.
Mindlessly, Ivar puts his pen in his mouth, a subconscious tick he developped not-so recently. Passing his hands through his hair, he sighed.
I started to smoke. He confessed. I know you never liked the smell, how it clings to my clothes, my mouth, how it lingered around the house when my brothers decided to have one one in their rooms. Ivar snorts at the memory. Not that you’re here to tell me off.
Freydis has been buying candles, they’re all around the house now. The smell of the cigarettes blends with the essences and I technically get to have fire dispensers in every single room.
“Maybe I’m waiting for you to magically show up and tell me to fuck off.” He whispers.
Suddenly, Ivar shakes his head, as if the physical gesture cleared his mind.
I guess I’ll have to stop soon, I have a baby on the way. He releases an airy laugh as he re-reads what he just wrote. Who would have thought, (Y/n)? A baby. Me. Your Ivar.
The young Ragnarsson lets out a tired sigh, strenghening his grip on the metalling pen as he mindlessly tapped on the crystal desk. With resigned resolution, he decides to write his last lines, telling himself that he is finally starting to accept reality.
I know you’re not going to come back. Not to the place we grew up at, at least.
If you ever do, I just want to let you know, as sappy as it may sound, that my heart will always be open for you, even when my arms are not.
I miss you.
I miss us.
Take care,
Ivar.
Dropping the pen, Ivar stares at his letter. His hands blindly search for an envelope, a frown etched on his face until his fingertips brush against the soft surface of the letter. You don’t know, but he found your new address. He searched around Ubbe’s old files.
With a careful manner, Ivar writes down your address on the envelope.
He stands up, walks to his living room and grabs a jacket as he makes his way to the exit.
All of the sudden he stops right on his tracks, his free hand almost reaching to the door handle. Freydis seemed to have forgotten to put out a lone candle, a tiny fragrance dispenser resting on the entrance drawer.
Ivar may not be aware of a lot of things in life, but one thing he was certain of: smoke traveled faster than mail.
His hand was trembling slightly, but it managed to follow his instructions. With a swift move, Ivar positioned the ephemeral piece of paper on the fire, watching intently how the flames consumed his words and took them to you. Discreetly, he threw the burning letter in the empty bin, the lid cutting short the trail of smoke escaping from the container.
He makes sure ashes are all what it remains from his indecent confession and makes his way back to the bedroom. Slowly but steadily, Ivar returns to bed, nesting himself between the sheets before holding his beloved wife in his embrace.
Tonight, he was human. Tomorrow, he’ll have to be a God.
The end.
Taglist:
Note: This is the old taglist I have noted from my past Ivar ficts. Please let me know if you want to be removed or added by sending an ask here.
This is the fic I wrote for the Vikings Big Bang❤️ You can also read it on AO3.
*Please remember to check the warnings at the beginning of each chapter! It’s sometimes very explicit and of course +18, do not read if any of the topics I put in the warnings could be triggering for you. And please tell me if I didn’t warn about anything properly so I can add it. Thank you!
A/N: Hello! I planned on posting this earlier but life got in the way :( I’m truly sorry! I’m planning on posting something else this week too (maybe Back To You) so I hope I can do it before the weekend! In any case, thank you so much for reading, I spent many nights bawling my eyes out while writing this and sometimes I wondered whether it was worth it or not, but now I think it was definitely worth it❤️ Thank you and enjoy!
Warnings: smut, mentions of oral sex, mentions of alcohol, implied cheating, hints of depression, sadness, childbirth, death of a baby (sorry), Ivar being 5b!Ivar don’t be too angry at him, mentions of death.
The ring was cold and wet around your finger. You looked at it and held back a smile as Ivar grabbed both your hands. His crutch was leant onto a tree not too far away from him, but he had ignored you every time you insisted on him sitting down or at least leaning onto it.
“May the Gods bless this marriage, and may Freyja give you strong and healthy children” the priestess splashed the drops of blood onto your face, and you’d swear Ivar’s pupils dilated before staring intensely at you “And so I name you man and wife”
He barely waited until she stopped talking to lean in and kiss you. People cheered around you, startling you as you had forgotten that you weren’t alone. That even your own father was present, handing you away to your husband.
Husband. That word sounded better each time you said it. He kissed you deeply, biting your lower lip softly before smiling against your lips. The flower crown on your head wouldn’t take long to be replaced by an actual crown, even though you preferred the one you were already wearing. Turning around to face the crowd, you smiled brightly at Hvitserk, who smiled back as he clapped. At least he was feeling happy for you, or he was trying, which was more than enough for you.
Your father hugged Ivar, patting his back with a proud smile on his face. Anyone would say that years earlier he was scandalised by your closeness to the youngest Ragnarsson when he swore loyalty to him over his sacred ring as soon as he was made king.
Your father was already old, too tired of war and quarrels, but he had made the effort to travel to Kattegat to see you getting married, and you were more than happy to see him so close to Ivar now that he was your husband. Your king.
The Great Hall was full of people during the feast. You lost count of how many times they raised their horns to cheer for you, and how many gifts they had left on the wooden table next to the main one at which you sat. King Harald was there too, now chatting with Hvitserk and with a strange expression on his face. Almost sad.
It was true you had never trusted him completely, but you felt some kind of sympathy for him now that he had lost his brother, wife and unborn child at the same time. In the end he just wanted love, like every single man in that room, including the proud king that sat next to you and looked over the crowd with his eyes narrowed and a little smile. That was maybe what pushed you to invite him to sit down with you on the main table, and even if he spent most of the time talking strategy with Ivar, you liked to think he looked less tormented when he left the table.
Ivar’s hand rested on your thigh, he kept drinking and drinking until you stopped him. You kind of needed him awake for later, you whispered into his ear, and he discarded his drink then, smiling as his eyes glistened.
“Why wait until later?” he frowned, looking around “I don’t think nobody would notice if we disappeared now for a couple of…”
“I think they definitely would notice” you giggled, your nose almost touching his “Besides, we have the entire night. Don’t think you are getting too much sleep during my wedding night” you muttered into his ear, biting his earlobe with a smirk.
“I have a kingdom to rule tomorrow, woman” he hissed, his hand squeezed your thigh.
“Then you better stop drinking or the headache is going to kill you in the morning” you giggled, kissing his cheek lovingly.
He didn’t seem to care that much about getting up early to start ruling that kingdom he loved so much when you finally ended up in bed. He groaned and moaned your name out loud, not caring about the guards or anyone close enough to hear him. He couldn’t care less. He even enjoyed it.
Your mouth felt like Valhalla, he’d swear your lips were as soft as the velvety dresses he had gifted you, thinking more about himself when he imagined how easy it would be to take them off of you. His hands tangled on your hair and you moaned around him, making him almost whimper, needy. If being king meant having to leave that bed every single day to go listen to a string of complaints from other people he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep being king for long.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing your face, he pulled you up, turning around in bed so he could crawl between your legs, not wasting any more time to thrust into you. Your loud moan, the way your body seemed to adapt perfectly to his, made him close his eyes again and bury his face into your neck, breathing your scent every time he moved his hips against yours. He heard you whispering his name, and his eyelids fluttered open to look down at you. You looked at him with such intensity, with your lips parted as you gasped. That look in your eyes made him stop pounding into you like a mad man, setting for a slower pace so he could enjoy every single little sound you made.
“I love you” you muttered against his lips. Ivar opened his mouth to say it back. He wanted to say those three words so bad, watch the smile growing on your face. But instead he leant in to kiss you again, hoping his actions would say what he couldn’t say with words.
________________________________
You felt your heart breaking when you saw the red stains on the white sheets. Your lower lip trembled as you stared at them, at the redness that covered your inner thighs and stained your nightgown. You had had a feeling, you had prayed to Freyja every single day and night, had raised your head to mutter a simple plea every time Ivar cuddled with you after making love. A child. That’s all you wanted.
Maybe the Gods wanted to punish you for not taking care of the one they already gave to you, for choosing to fight before realising there was someone else you should take care of. But you had learnt your lesson. You trained much less, you ate properly, slept, took care of yourself just in case there was a baby growing inside you. But after every full moon you’d wake up with wetness between your legs and the blood staining everything.
The tears fell down your cheeks silently as your eyes moved to the fireplace. You didn’t know what to do. You could see the disappointment in Ivar’s eyes every time you looked at him with a sad expression and shook your head. You could feel him growing cold towards you, there was a distance growing between the both of you, no matter how hard you tried to get closer to him again. You couldn’t stand it. What was what you did wrong?.
“My queen?” the shy thrall, a girl your age that had bright red hair and beautiful clear eyes, who loved to braid hair and collect flowers and whom Ivar thought would get along with you, was at the entrance of your chambers. Concern written all over her face, she informed you that breakfast was ready, and that the king had been absent since the sun went up.
“Thank you, Frida” you muttered, wiping your tears before standing up, sparing a last glance at the red stains “Will you please bring new sheets for the bed? These will need to be washed”
“Of course, my queen” she bowed her head obediently “Will you need help to wash yourself?”
“No, I’ve got it” you forced a kind smile at her “And please, call me Y/N”
You felt lonely enough, it would feel good to think you had at least one friend in there.
She bowed one last time before disappearing in search of clean sheets.
Ivar was nowhere to be found. After a very much needed walk around Kattegat, enjoying some fresh air after days locked inside the Great Hall, you had tried to find him, hoping he could at least take some time off his duties as king to dine with you. But he wasn’t next to the walls, nor in the forge or Hvitserk’s house, who was always out in the cabin taking care of Margrethe. You had searched the entire town at least twice, but there was no sight of him or his bodyguard. Until you finally spotted White Hair entering the Great Hall. It was early for him to be back at the Hall, but you entered anyway, smiling softly at the guards that bowed their heads when you walked past them.
The throne was empty. Sighing tiredly, you walked to your chambers, thinking about maybe taking a bath to take your mind off of everything before you’d lose your mind. And then you heard his laugh.
Ivar never laughed. Only with you sometimes, and with Hvitserk when the two of them weren’t trying to rip each other’s head off. But it had been a while since you heard Ivar laughing. And it made you frown as you reached the entrance to your bedroom.
He was there indeed, drinking and with his eyes fixed on a petite blonde woman that was too familiar to you. She laughed too. Suddenly you felt like an intruder in your own home.
“Y/N!” Ivar smiled up at you, raising his cup. You couldn’t tell whether he was surprised or not to see you there “Come in, do you remember Freydis?”
You entered the room slowly, managing to nod once as she turned around to face you with a wide smile.
“Queen Y/N” she bowed her head “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you”
Ivar stood up with a groan, getting closer to you to kiss your cheek once.
“It’s nice to meet you too” you muttered, unable to tear your eyes off of her. She was beautiful, graceful, she had a sweetness in her that worried you. It worried you because you saw Ivar’s face while looking at her. That wasn’t the face of a man that only liked her, that would maybe like to bed her and then brag about it. It was the face of a man that was totally smitten by her, that desired her. And she seemed to know, because she shot him the prettiest smile you had ever seen and you’d swear Ivar purred when she approached the both of you.
“It was delightful to spend time with you, my king” she bowed her head “I hope we have other chances to talk in the future”
“Sure” he nodded sweetly, and not even the glance you sent his way made him stutter “I hope I see you again soon”
She excused herself then, sparing you a last glance. You stood there, petrified, looking at the empty chairs they were occupying until now, and looked back at your husband, who had a smile on his lips and drank the last of his cup of mead.
“What was that?” you asked with your voice weak and breakable.
“What do you mean?” he frowned, clearing his throat as he left his now empty cup on the table.
“What were you doing here with her?” you shook your head “Ivar, I’ve been looking for you since this morning, I needed to talk to you”
“I was just taking a break, my love” he shrugged “I’m tired”
Something about that my love didn’t feel right.
“Can you rest while you eat with me? I really need to tell you something”
“I already ate” he pointed at the empty plates on the small table. Two empty plates “I have many things to do, can’t it wait?”
“I…” you sighed, refusing to cry in front of him “I’m bleeding again”
His smile faded. Suddenly his expression and tone hardened.
“I know” he shrugged “I saw it this morning when I woke up”
You lowered your head, licking your lips nervously.
“That’s what you wanted to tell me? That you’re still unable to give me a child?”
His cold tone sent chills down your spine. The cold tears you tried so bad to hold fell down your cheeks, but he didn’t seem to care. He turned his back to you, and you stared at his back with desperation.
“I’m trying” you muttered “I don’t know what else to do”
“You can start by going to eat, and stop walking so much around Kattegat without a bodyguard, is dangerous, you’re not the daughter of an Earl anymore”
“I’m bored here” you pointed at the room “I’m bored of sitting around waiting for you, I stopped training and going into the forest with Hvitserk, I… Why can’t you stay with me for a while?”
“I already told you, I’m busy” he rolled his eyes before turning to face you again “We’ll talk later, when I come back”
He just left, walked past you without even looking at you. And you sat down on the bed, covering your mouth to muffle your sobs. Maybe at any other time you would have slapped that scowl out of his face, you would have fought and yelled at him, because he had no right to treat you like that. But not that day. Not when you were feeling such a deep sadness that took away any other form of feeling. You couldn’t even be angry, just sad, empty, like someone had reached to rip a part of you, thrown it to the ground and kicked it.
The ring on your finger was heavier than ever. It also felt cold, even more cold than the first time you put it on, and it was like it tightened more and more around your finger. You remembered how happy you were during the wedding. During the feast. During the days after. So happy and cheerful you barely recognized yourself anymore. It hadn’t been that long since those days, had it? When did everything change? Was it after the third moon you bled? Before? You tried to recall how Ivar’s arms felt around you, how warm his chest was, how good it felt to hear his laugh against your temple, his soft kisses against your skin. But you could barely remember it, there was only cold and pain now.
“My queen?” Frida muttered. You heard her steps getting closer to you, and you shook your head, unable to reply to her even if you really wanted to. A sigh, and then you felt her presence next to you. You let her embrace you, knowing she had probably heard everything. And let yourself weep and sob against her shoulder. She didn’t say a thing, probably because she knew that nothing would make you feel better. Maybe she had been as heartbroken as you once.
_____________________________
“She’s pregnant”
His words cut like a knife. You raised your head to look at him again, your face contorted in rage, wanting nothing more than to sink any dagger you could find into his neck. Ivar looked at you sternly, almost defying you to raise your voice at him, to question his decision to bring his… Mistress? Lover? you didn’t even know what he considered her anymore, in your home. With you.
“You don’t think I’d kick out a woman pregnant with my child, do you?” he chuckled coldly “What kind of a man do you think I am?
“I’m not sure I’d call you a man right now” you spat “You fucked another woman, and now you want to bring her here so we can chat and giggle as you’re out there doing your king duties? Do those duties include fucking other people, Ivar?”
His jaw clenched and you could see his pupils growing darker with rage. Good. No amount of rage would equal what you were feeling in that moment.
“Be careful with me, Y/N” he lowered his voice. He could threaten you all he wanted. You weren’t falling for it “Freydis is with child. With MY child!” he yelled “She will stay here, and that child will stay here whether you like it or not”
“Then I’m leaving”
Ivar’s bitter laugh echoed around the bedroom. It only infuriated you even more.
“No you’re not” he stated, shrugging “You’re my wife”
“Then start treating me as such!” you pushed him, barely moving him as you pointed a finger to his face “I gave everything to you, I sacrificed everything for you!”
“You didn’t give me a child” he whispered, his blue eyes boiled with rage and cruelty. He was trying to hurt you. In purpose. Exactly what he said he’d never do. The tears that fell from your eyes were warm now.
“You’re always talking about how nobody loves you, Ivar, but what about me? I was there every single day, every time you were alone, for the good and the bad things Ivar, I was there. And this is how you thank me, fucking someone else and bringing her into my home, pregnant with what she says it’s your child. I’m not crazy, Ivar, I gave everything to you and here I am, waiting patiently for you to spare me a simple glance when you’re bored, a mere kiss before going to sleep” you sobbed, trying to push him away once again, and failing “Hoping you have a fucking minute to stop and think about me! Have you ever thought about me? You always took me for granted, thought I’d always be here because I love you, but what if I left? I bet you wouldn’t even try to stop me, because you don’t care! You were everything to me, Ivar, now tell me, was I ever anything to you? I deserve to be loved too, I deserve to feel loved”
For a moment his expression softened. Almost like he remembered who he was shouting to.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Y/N” he sighed, shaking his head “Only that the Gods granted me a child with another woman. Maybe we’re just not fated to have children”
“Shut up about the stupid fate for once!” you groaned “You’re not listening to anything I’m saying, Ivar”
“I’m listening” he rolled his eyes again “And you’re talking nonsense, Y/N” he chuckled “I wish you were more understanding”
“More understanding? Want me to bring more furs so you and that woman can keep having sex in our bed? Want me to raise your child?”
“I already told you once, I don’t like jealousy” he lowered his voice again “And you won’t listen”
“How would you feel if I brought here another man, Ivar?” you narrowed your eyes at him “Maybe I should bed the next Earl you invite here, see if I can give a child to him”
His fist clenched, but you kept staring at him with your head high. He might intimidate everyone with his yelling and his glares but not you.
“You could try” he scoffed “I won’t stop you, but don’t cry when he dies”
You took a deep breath, wiping your tears before he spoke again.
“The Gods sent Freydis to me, to give me a child” he explained “Everything makes sense now, I’m descended from Odin, the Allfather, like my father before me, and yet everyone laughed at me, underestimated me because of my legs, because I was different. People either laughed or pitied me, the cripple” he spat that word with disgust, making you frown in confusion “I hated it. I hated the pain, the weakness, I hated everything about myself” he shook his head “But Freydis helped me to understand that the Gods didn’t curse me, but instead favor me. That I’m special, I’m one of them”
Your heart skipped a beat as you watched his face carefully, searching for a sign that would tell you that it was all a joke. That he was only laughing at you.
“What are you saying now?”
“It makes sense, right? You always told me I was special, and not less than any other man”
“But I didn’t mean it like that” you sighed “Ivar, you are special, but you’re not a God, your legs don’t mean you’re a God”
His smile faded.
“I am a God, Y/N, you know it, Freydis knows it, I know it” he shook his head “She’s carrying my child, the child of a God, who will also be blessed and will be the most divine child to walk on Midgard” he muttered, leaving you speechless as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear “And you, my dear wife, should feel grateful to be by my side, to be able to witness something so extraordinary” he deposited a soft kiss on your cheek as you froze, unable to even process the words that left his mouth “So, stop complaining”.
_______________________________
“He’s losing his mind”
You looked to your side, to Hvitserk. He sat down next to you, his face also turned to the window. Another man taken from his home, from his family, the man that lived in the house in front of Hvitserk’s. You had seen him and his wife more than once, he was always in the market, selling eggs and chicken. You saw his wife weeping, hugging their sons. Apparently, he had been trying to find people that weren’t… Happy with the king’s actions.
He wouldn’t be back.
You didn’t answer, taking a sip from the bowl of warm soup Hvitserk had given you. He insisted you should eat more, but you couldn’t find your appetite. You were just tired all the time, you didn’t find joy in training, going for walks, enjoying a drink, the feasts, buying new fabrics and imagining the dresses you could make with it. Nothing, not even when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, would bring you joy. The days were more and more dark, or so it seemed to you, and the months passed without you noticing. Suddenly, one day you just stepped out and it had snowed. Not even the snow, which would always put a smile on your face, seemed important now.
“Y/N” Hvitserk’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You had stopped listening, hearing and watching anything again. It happened very often, and usually you’d stay like that for hours, just looking at nothing like you were asleep. It was much easier than being awake.
“Sorry” you muttered “Were you talking?”
You were still looking at the window, so didn’t see him frowning and sighing. He really didn’t know what to do, he had even tried to talk to Ivar, but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t listen to anyone.
“I said that” he took a deep breath, patiently “Maybe you should go away for a while, go visit your family”
You finally looked at him. After a few seconds, you shook your head, you didn’t want your family to see you like that. You didn’t want to look at them and explain that everything was happening because of you, that it was your fault just because something was wrong with you and you couldn’t give Ivar the child he wanted.
“I talked to the Seer” you said. Hvitserk raised his head again, interested.
“And?”
“He said my place is here” you sighed. In some way, it had relieved you, because that meant you wouldn’t have to leave Ivar just yet. Even if you were closer to giving up each day that passed, you still had hope to see just a glimpse of your Ivar. The Ivar you knew and loved. Not the cruel, cold tyrant in which he had turned “That the Gods want me here by his side”
Hvitserk wanted to scream at you, to say that the Gods could want whatever they wanted, but that you had to get out of there. Each day he saw Freydis’ belly grow with the baby she carried, and Ivar completely mesmerized by her. And then you, silent and looking lifeless.
“You can’t keep going like this” he said, shaking his head.
“Like what?” you frowned softly as you turned back to keep watching the window.
“Look at you, you don’t eat, you barely sleep, you walk around like you were dead, Y/N, you’re terrified of Ivar and yet sleep beside him every single day”
“It is what it is” you said calmly “The Gods decided it”
“You’re even starting to talk like him”
“It’s my fate” you muttered, even if the mere idea terrified you.
“It’s not” he argued “You should leave this place, leave him, it would be for the best”
You didn’t reply. Again, he reached to take your hand, squeezing it softly. You seemed to relax a bit when you were able to lean your head onto his shoulder, and even if he wanted to keep insisting he didn’t do it. Instead, he stayed silent next to you. Maybe that’s all you needed, some peace.
The door opened after a while. Hvitserk looked to his side to see Thora, entering the cabin with a shy smile and her arms full of food. Food she brought for him. He smiled brightly, and immediately stood up to welcome her, grabbing her face to kiss her lips softly.
“Hello” he muttered, caressing her cheek before kissing her again. Thora giggled against his lips. She was the only one that kept him sane for all those months, as everything fell apart.
“I brought some food, like I said, my father said he didn’t mind to share with you” she left the things on the table, before she turned to look at you. And her smile faded
“Queen Y/N” she bowed her head respectfully. You had turned around and looked at them with a curious expression, almost like it was the first time you saw them.
“Hi Thora” you tried to force a smile, that looked more like a grimace.
“If I had known you were here…”
“I was leaving already” you shrugged, standing up before any of them could stop you “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your night”
Hvitserk sighed.
“You don’t interrupt, Y/N” he said softly “You can stay for as long as you want”
But Thora’s nervous expression said differently. You had already stayed one night to sleep there, which only resulted in Ivar banging on the door in the middle of the night, demanding that you went back home. Or what was supposed to be home.
She didn’t want to be near you. No one but Hvitserk did lately. Everyone, people that knew you since you were a child, would just lower their heads when you walked by, too scared. Your closeness to Ivar made you a threat for them now. A word from you and they could be dead.
If only they knew Ivar hasn’t listened to a word I’ve said for a long time.
You tried your best to be friends with Thora. You were happy for Hvitserk, especially after Margrethe’s death hit him hard, and even if it was difficult to see people being in love around you, you just wanted him to be happy. He deserved it more than anyone in that damned town. But she was scared, wary of you, and you couldn’t blame her.
“It’s better if I leave now, but thank you” you muttered, grabbing your cloak and putting it around your body. Hvitserk nodded, and you said goodbye to Thora with a nod.
“Be careful, do you want me to walk you to the Hall?” Hvitserk opened the door, looking at you carefully.
“No, I’ll be fine” you shrugged “Thanks, Hvitty, for everything” you hugged him tightly, taking a deep breath as he hugged you back “I’m happy for you” you whispered.
He kissed your temple softly before letting you go. And then watched as you walked away.
________________________________
“Where’s Thora?”
Ivar raised his head, startled and with his eyes widened, looking surprised at hearing your voice. He sat on the bed, fumbling with the braces but without paying attention to the task.
“Hello to you too, my dear wife” he raised an eyebrow “Is there anything you need?”
“I saw Thora coming out of the Hall, where is she?” your voice trembled, fearing the worst. You tried to follow her, but she was running and you lost her. And now you feared the worst.
“You mean Hvitserk’s friend, right?” he shrugged “I don’t know, I just wanted to get to know my new sister a bit better, you know” he chuckled “To make sure she’s not crazy like Margrethe” he pouted.
“Ivar” you sighed tiredly, letting yourself fall on the bed next to him “Please don’t do this”
“I’m not doing anything” he raised his hands, shrugging innocently “Besides, from what I’ve heard, she wasn’t good to you, right? You tried to be her friend”
“Hvitserk loves her” you shook your head “She has done nothing to you, she’s no threat to your claim, please leave her alone”
Ivar’s smile faded.
“My brother has been acting weird lately, Y/N” he muttered “And you’ve spent too much time with him, so tell me, is he plotting against me?”
You frowned. Hvitserk wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell you about it if he planned to go against Ivar, but in any case…
“He’s not, he just left because you ordered it, Ivar, what makes you think that?”
“I don’t know” he clenched his jaw “Perhaps I should have killed him instead”
Instinctively, you moved away from him, your lower lip trembling as the tears filled your eyes once again. It was hard to conceive your own eyes without tears anymore.
“You don’t mean that”
“You should go to eat” he muttered, ignoring you. Your entire body shrank when he kissed your cheek lovingly but coldly “Dinner is ready, and Freydis said she’d like to eat with you, she wants to discuss the name of the baby”
You gulped, and looked into his eyes one last time, trying to find the warmth you used to see when you looked at him in the past.
“Ivar I would do anything” you muttered “I’ll eat with her, I’ll raise your child, I’ll be good and help you in everything I can, but just leave Thora alone” you begged “Please, if there’s any part of you that still cares for me even if it’s just a bit, let her be”
“Little one” he muttered, his cold fingers caressed your face “This has nothing to do with you” he shook his head “Don’t waste your time worrying about them, they’re just peasants” he chuckled “And I’m a God, you’re my wife, they’re not your problem”
“Ivar…”
“Enough, Y/N” he shook his head “Freydis is waiting for you”
__________________________________
The yelling could be heard from outside the Hall. You nearly ran into the building with your heart bumping against your chest faster and faster. Something was happening, you had a really bad feeling. And Ivar was acting weird the day before. Every time he acted weird something bad happened.
“Where’s my baby?!” Freydis shrieked from the main bedroom. Her cries were wrenching, you stood at the entrance, watching somewhat taken aback as you saw Ivar stare at her with fury, with his entire body tensed in rage. He had never looked at her like that.
“What happened?” you asked with a weak voice, and Freydis looked relieved to see you.
“My baby” she sobbed “My Baldur, where is he? Have you seen him?” her desperate eyes broke your heart as you thought of the baby. You hadn’t wanted to hold him, and instead went to Hvitserk’s now empty cabin to sleep. Away from the chaos of the main building. But even if your heart ached every single day, you couldn’t blame a newly born child.
“No, not since yesterday” you muttered, looking this time at Ivar. His lips trembled and he looked like he was about to cry. He didn’t look at Freydis nor at you, not even when she started crying again. Approaching you this time, hiding her pretty face into your chest to sob. You hugged her slowly, still looking at him.
“My poor baby” she choked with her own tears, and even if you had hated her fiercely for a long time, you couldn’t help but hug her tightly, closing your eyes and leaning your head against hers.
“Come on” you muttered “Let’s go to eat something” you sighed, your entire body shaking now “We’ll send men to find him”
She nodded after a while, following you as you took her out into the main room. She looked devastated as you helped her seat on one of the chairs, making a sign to one of the slaves so they would bring her some drinks and food.
“I’m not hungry”she pouted “I just want my child”
“I know, but you just gave birth, and you need to recover some strength” you were surprised at how calmed your voice sounded. You were feeling everything but calmness “We’ll find Baldur”
Freydis stared at the wooden table. Her delicate features were still contorted in concern, but she still had that strange vibe around her that had caught Ivar’s attention from the beginning. It hadn’t surprised you, she was beautiful, sweet. Any man would have fallen. You had hated her at some point, hated those words she had whispered in Ivar’s ear, poisoning his mind, taking him away from you, driving him mad. But in that moment you didn’t see the snake the Seer warned you about, you only saw a vulnerable woman, mourning the loss of her child. Just like you had done once too.
As soon as you laid next to Ivar, you noticed he had been crying. It was the first time that the two of you were in bed and awake at the same time for what it felt like a lifetime, as he always came to sleep when it was too late for you to stay awake, and left as soon as the sun rose. You didn’t say anything, instead faced him warily, taking a deep breath when he finally turned his head to look at you.
“He was crippled”
You didn’t say anything. He finally sobbed, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds. You had heard people talking about the strange deformity of the baby, but didn’t think too much about it.
“I left him outside”
His confession didn’t surprise you. You already knew, you had seen it in his eyes earlier. This time you reached to grab his hand softly. It was the first time you touched him voluntarily for a long time, and he looked as surprised as you.
“I couldn’t let that child live, Y/N” he muttered “I couldn’t condemn him to live everything I have lived, I can’t let him walk on such a cruel world”
“He was a child” you muttered “He would have made it just like you did”
“No” he shook his head “He wouldn’t, I can’t let my own child live like that, I would rather see him dead, he was like me” he whispered, gulping and closing his eyes “He reminded me too much of myself”
You leant on your elbow, getting closer to him with a lump in your throat now.
“I’m not even sure he was mine after all” he scoffed, shaking his head “And even then I couldn’t let him suffer everything that I suffered, I couldn’t let him suffer all of that too”
“Ivar…”
“My father did the same to me” he sobbed again, pressing your hand against his mouth “My father left me to die, and I should have died” he cried “I should have died, I shouldn’t be alive”
“Hey, please, stop” you pressed your forehead against his temple “Ivar, don’t say that”
He shook his head, taking a deep breath.
“I’m not a God, I’m just a cripple, Y/N” he whispered “Just like that child”
You held him in your arms as he wept, just like you did with the woman that had ruined your marriage a few hours earlier. You wiped his tears, kissed his forehead and forgot all the suffering from all those months for a while, finally recognizing the old Ivar. Freydis made him believe he was divine, superior to all men, because the thought of being inferior, of not being enough, had haunted him since his birth. And because no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t fully believe he was as worthy as any other man, that his legs weren’t something to be ashamed of.
__________________________________
You woke up when you felt his lips on your forehead. It had been a while since you were woken up like that, so it startled you. For a moment, it was like all that time had been a nightmare, that you were waking up next to your loving husband and that all the emptiness, the sadness and the darkness weren’t real.
But they were definitely real. The aggravated expression on Ivar’s face said it all.
“I didn’t realise what I was doing to you” he muttered as you stirred awake. He sat on the edge of the bed, next to you, his hand cupping your face. When your eyes fluttered open, your hand covered his.
“What is happening, Ivar?” you sighed, looking at him with narrowed eyes. It was still dark outside.
“Nothing, it’s still early” he whispered, shaking his head “I’m just making sure that Björn’s army is not going to attack again today”
You relaxed, nodding. In the last few days everything had changed. Ivar pushed Freydis away, and you could feel Ivar’s attempts to get closer to you, but you needed time. You were still hurting. Björn had attacked Kattegat alongside King Harald, Hvitserk and King Olaf, Ivar ’s old ally. But Ivar stopped them. Nevertheless, he was still wary, knowing they could come back any time now. He was all alone, and you knew he was suffering, but it was the same you had gone through, and you were still going through it.
“I wasn’t a good husband, was I?” he leant in to kiss your forehead again “I didn’t make you happy like I promised”
You didn’t answer, kept looking at him with a sad smile. At least he had realized it.
“I gave you a crown, I gave you dresses, jewelry… But maybe I forgot to give you the most important thing”
“I didn’t want a crown” you sighed “I wanted you, Ivar”
“I know” he muttered “I’m sorry… I hope you can forgive me one day, my love” he kissed your cheek this time “I never wanted to hurt you, I said things, I did things… That I’m not proud of” he shook his head “But you were still here, by my side, you never left even when I pushed you away. I don’t deserve it”
You gulped, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
“You didn’t deserve it” you agreed “But I couldn’t leave” you sobbed “I can’t leave you”
His breathing touched your lips before he kissed you for the first time in months. It was a soft kiss, he was almost shy, like he was expecting you to reject him at any time. But you couldn’t reject him. You were too weak now.
He took a deep breath with his face buried in your neck. You just hugged his neck, trying to enjoy that moment as you were totally sure it was a dream. Ivar didn’t apologize. He didn’t ask for forgiveness or kissed you softly to wake you up. At least the Ivar you had seen lately didn’t.
“I don’t know when it was the last time I told you” he muttered “But I care deeply for you, and I want you to remember that”
You frowned, cupping his head to make him look at you.
“Why does this sound like a goodbye, Ivar? What is happening?”
“It’s not a goodbye” he shook his head “I just wanted to let you know, because I feel I haven’t taken care or you lately”
“You haven’t” you nodded, agreeing “You ignored me, favoured a woman you had just met over me, you hurt me”
“Sorry” he said in a whisper “She poisoned my mind, she made me believe you weren’t what the Gods wanted for me, but how can you not? You’re still by my side even now”
“Stop thinking I’m with you because of the Gods” you pouted “I’m still here because I decided to stay here with you, because I know the real you, and I know you’re not a God, just a man whose life hasn’t been kind to him” your fingers traced his braids slowly, recalling the feeling of it under your touch “You don’t need to be a God to be a great man, Ivar”
He didn’t reply, instead kissed your temple once again.
“Go back to sleep, it’s too early” he repeated “I’ll wake you up if something happens, but rest for now”
You nodded, still confused.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, I’ll be right here” he muttered, tucking you in under the furs, making you sigh “Sleep, little one, don’t worry about me”.
This is the fic I wrote for the Vikings Big Bang❤️ You can also read it on AO3.
*Please remember to check the warnings at the beginning of each chapter! It’s sometimes very explicit and of course +18, do not read if any of the topics I put in the warnings could be triggering for you. And please tell me if I didn’t warn about anything properly so I can add it. Thank you!
Your eyes followed his, turning your head, you confirmed it was her he was looking at. You had tried to shrug it off, to avoid thinking about it, about the two of them together. Every man desired other women, Ivar wasn’t an exception. You also felt attracted to other people, but you didn’t look at them like that, especially not in front of him.
Because he would kill them.
You wondered whether you should kill that slave too. Well, former slave. Apparently, Ivar had freed her, and now she wandered around the city, and every time she entered the room Ivar’s eyes would follow her.
He barely paid any attention to you for days, even when the two of you slept in the same bed. Just after your father agreed to your marriage with him. Were you only a prize he was fighting for, showing everyone he was worthy before tossing you away when he got what he wanted? You didn’t dare to ask that question to yourself, but the dreaded answer haunted you for days.
After dinner, Ivar retired. He didn’t say any word to you or to Hvitserk who sat beside you and also seemed a bit fed up with his behaviour. Since Ubbe left, after their big fight, and when Hvitserk jumped ship to stay with his youngest brother, Ivar had been making all the plans by himself. He didn’t ask for your opinion anymore, and he didn’t discuss it with his own brother.
“You saw it too, didn’t you?” you asked Hvitserk a while later, when the two of you sat next to the church entrance in silence. You were glad he had stayed, you could always find peace with Hvitserk.
“The blonde slave?” he raised an eyebrow and shrugged “Don’t take it personal, he’s acting like an idiot with everyone"
That was the problem, though. Ivar always treated you differently.
"Do you think he…?”
Hvitserk shook his head, offering you a small smile.
“I don’t think he’s sleeping with her, I think we’d know, I think he’s just taking you for granted"
"My father agreed” you muttered “He said he will let me marry Ivar”
“And do you want to?” he winked at you “You still have a son of Ragnar available if you decide to refuse"
You laughed, for the first time in days.
"I can’t really compete with her, can I?” you muttered as the smile died on your lips.
“You don’t have to” Hvitserk hummed “My brother may be many things, but he’s not stupid, he’s not going to marry her over you. He might be obsessed, he might fuck her, but in the end she’s not you, Y/N”
You pouted, and Hvitserk smiled softly as he hugged you.
“You’re a beautiful woman” he said “If you hadn’t been my friend from day one, and if my little brother wasn’t that obsessed with you, I would have gotten you into my bed already” he muttered against your hair, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed him away.
“You suck at giving compliments to women, Hvitty”
“I didn’t hear any of them complaining” he shrugged, winking at you as he grabbed his horn to take a long sip again.
You smiled softly watching him. He looked a bit lost those days, since Ubbe left. Ivar hadn’t been giving him a good time either.
“Hvitserk” you called his name softly “How are you feeling?”
He seemed to freeze at that moment. You smiled kindly at him as he frowned to himself, processing your question.
“I’m… It’s the first time someone asked me that” he chuckled, shaking his head “I think I’m confused… I don’t know if that’s the right word, but I’m just trying to figure out whether I did the right thing or not by jumping ship… I just didn’t want to be Ubbe’s dog anymore, you know? I wanted to choose for the first time in my life, show everyone that I can make my own decisions and that I own my own fate. But maybe I fucked it up”
“You didn’t” you caressed his hair “I’m proud of you. You are better than what Ubbe wanted you to be, and I know you love him the most out of all your brothers, so that means you were very brave… And I’m glad you stayed” you elbowed him with a giggle, and he smiled before looking back at you.
“Who would wipe your tears whenever Ivar upsets you if I didn’t stay?” he winked, and you groaned, rubbing your face.
“It’s always the blonde slaves, right?” you sighed, looking up at the dark sky “First Margrethe, then this one”
“No, Y/N” Hvitserk giggled “My brother is the smartest person I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean he’s good with women, clearly” he rolled his eyes “It’s always you, even if neither of you can see it”.
________________________
The fireplace was lit, but the entire room still felt cold as you pushed the furs back and your feet touched the cold floor. If Ivar heard you approaching him from behind as he looked at some things he had found between the Bishop’s belongings. He did sigh when your arms hugged his body from behind, and his head rested against the backrest of the chair he occupied. Your lips touched his cheek softly, and his lips curved on a smile.
“I thought you were mad at me” he muttered.
“Did you do anything I should get angry about?” you asked softly, moving to his side so he could see you when he turned his head.
“Maybe” he shrugged “You seemed very… Happy getting all close and cosy with my brother” he raised an eyebrow “I don’t know if you noticed anything besides that”
“Oh, really?” you tilted your head with an innocent pout “Too bad I noticed you getting all close and cosy with a slave”
“Hmm… Here it is” he chuckled “She’s not a slave anymore, though, I freed her”
“So you could bed her with no regrets?”
“If I wanted to bed her I would have done it already, my love” his arms circled your waist and pulled you into his lap, trapping you between the wooden table and his own body “Who is the one sharing my bed every single night, Y/N?” he took his dagger, one of the ones you had gifted him before his first journey to England. The sharp edge caressed your neck and the exposed skin of your cleavage, making you dizzy “Answer me”
“Me” you muttered, eyes already fluttering.
“I didn’t hear you” he pressed the dagger against your skin, but not hard enough to draw any blood. Yet.
“Me” you said, loud and clear.
“I don’t like jealousy, Y/N” he clenched his jaw “And I don’t like you running to my brother’s side every single day”
“Then stop making me jealous” you leaned your body into his, still very aware of the knife pressing against you “You know exactly what you’re doing”
Ivar smiled. A wicked smile that only promised bad things and that made you shiver in excitement. He grabbed your face, kissing you forcefully as you moaned against his lips. His arm pulled you closer and the dagger fell to the floor. Suddenly the light nightgown you wore for bed was too much, but before you could take it off slowly, teasing him to make him pay for angering you, he ripped it. The pieces of fabric fell around the chair floating like feathers, and it made you giggle, still sighing in pleasure when his hands caressed your now naked skin.
“It looks like I’m not the only one jealous here” you muttered into his ear, kissing his neck softly, just under his earlobe. That spot always made him moan.
“You’re in trouble” he growled into your neck, and bit your skin harshly. You yelped, and moaned when he shooted the pain with his lips and tongue “I was trying to make a decision here, an important one for the future of our people and my army” he frowned “And here you come to distract me”
“I was bored” you pouted “You always stay until late with all of those things as I’m in bed”
“Go sleep in Hvitserk’s bed if mine is that boring”
“Don’t tempt me” you raised an eyebrow “Go look for the blonde slave if I distract you so much”
Ivar’s lips curved on a smile and he hummed against your cheek, making you smile too.
“You’re not letting that one go, are you? Not even when I have you, and not her, naked in my lap?”
“Just making sure” you kissed his lips again.
“I really want to go to bed with you” he muttered, his eyes travelling down your body. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your sex, and you couldn’t help but move your hips a bit, until he hissed and grabbed your waist to keep you still “But I need to make decisions”
“If you want to practice for when you’re a king” you raised an eyebrow “You better practice how to make heirs, because you will need them”
“I know the process quite well already” he shrugged “Would your father be pleased if he knew we were practising how to make heirs before being married?”
“Ivar, don’t talk about my father when I’m trying to have sex with you”
That made him laugh, shaking his head as you shivered in cold, getting closer to his warm body even if his vest was still on your way.
“But I really need to think about this, Y/N, I can’t think with you squirming in my lap”
“You can think tomorrow” you muttered softly, your nose tracing the side of his neck slowly “Talk to Hvitserk, decide it together”
“Hvitserk doesn’t know how to…”
“Ask him” you raised an eyebrow, pulling away to look at him “Trust me”
“Fine” he rolled his eyes.
“Now I’ll go back to bed” you informed him with an innocent smile “And I’ll wait for you for as long as I can until I fall asleep, but if I were you I’d be quick, because I’m a bit tired today” you kissed his forehead before getting off of him with a smile “Good night, my love, don’t think too much”
You made sure you swayed your hips a bit more as you walked back to the bed, hearing him cursing before the chair fell to the floor. You smirked when you heard the sound of his crutch against the stone floor.
__________________________________________
“It’s just water” you muttered with a sigh “You need to drink or you’ll die”
The man stared at you with his lips pressed on a fine line, which made you uncomfortable. Everything about that man made you uncomfortable, actually, since Ivar decided to capture him and bring him back to Norway you had been observing him a bit more. You had seen him fight and cut down many people, and Ivar ordered you to stay out of his way during the second battle in York, but now he was a prisoner, and you felt bad when seeing the terrible state he was in.
“Leave him, let him die if he wants to” Ivar shrugged from his seat on the boat “Maybe he wants to get reunited with his God”
You saw the face of the Bishop contract in rage when Ivar mentioned his God. You had learnt a bit of English, and could understand most of the conversations they had had in the ship during your journey to Norway, but you still didn’t understand why he got so mad when Ivar talked of his God.
“I promise it’s just water” you told him again, in a broken English “I wouldn’t try to poison you, Ivar would kill me”
“Kill you or thank you, depends on the day” Hvitserk groaned from behind and you giggled.
Finally, the prisoner opened his mouth. You helped him drink the fresh water and smiled gently at him when he was done. He nodded at you, and you accepted that would be the closest thing to a ‘thank you’ you would be getting, so you stood up and walked back to your seat next to Ivar’s. Leaning your head on the rail of the ship, you watched the fjord that led into Vestfold, King Harald’s city.
“I’ve never been to Vestfold” you commented “My father came here sometimes to visit the king but I always stayed home”
Ivar hummed next to you.
“I don’t think you missed much, to be honest, Kattegat’s fjord is way prettier”
That made you laugh softly.
“Ivar” you called his name after a few minutes of silence. He just turned his head to look at you and you sighed “Promise me you’ll be careful”
He rolled his eyes, but you pushed him softly to grab his attention again.
“Harald is ambitious” you whispered “He wants the throne of Kattegat too, and he won’t give it up so easily, just be careful”
“Harald might be ambitious” he put a lock of your hair out of your face softly “But I am smarter, I’m just using him to get what I want” he shrugged.
“Don’t underestimate him” you raised an eyebrow “He’s not stupid, he knows you plan on being crowned king”
Ivar sighed, rolling his eyes again with a small smile.
“You never trust me”
“I do trust you!” you scoffed “I just know that sometimes you’re too clever for your own good” you smiled softly.
“I just need his men” he muttered, leaning his head against yours as he kept watching the city “To make you Queen of Kattegat”
That part, though, was left out during his negotiations with the King. You stayed outside, not being allowed to enter the Hall as they talked to King Harald about their plans. It was a surprise, to say the least, when you heard he agreed to their terms, but it unsettled you not knowing what Ivar had promised him.
“Will Heahmund fight with you?” you asked that same night, sitting on the large bed in the quarters the king had offered you.
“Is he Heahmund now?” Ivar raised an eyebrow at you “Should I worry?”
You giggled as you watched him take off the braces.
“I just like calling people by their names”
“I still don’t know whether he will fight or not” Ivar clenched his jaw “He’s being stubborn, only talking about his God and his faith and how bad I am for not believing in his God” he rolled his eyes “He has a gift and won’t use it”
He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and his entire face before laying on the bed, grunting and grabbing his left leg. You watched him carefully before laying next to him, facing his side.
“What do you mean?”
“I would give everything I have to be able to fight like him” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the ceiling “To be such a strong warrior, to be…” he interrupted himself, biting his own tongue and remembering he wasn’t alone. He trusted you, but some things should stay a secret.
“You can fight too” you muttered, even though you weren’t sure he was listening “I’ve seen you”
“It’s not the same, you know what I’m talking about” he sighed, and his hand clenched around his leg. You nodded slowly.
“It would be boring if the Gods gave the same gift to all of us” you frowned “There’s a lot of different gifts, and they all need each other to be successful, I think. For example, an army can have a hundred good warriors, men and women that could cut off thousands of enemies without failing… But they need someone to guide them, someone that can see what’s the best option to win the battle, to have some kind of advantage… That’s your gift” you smiled brightly at him “And you can also stop an entire army of Saxons while yelling covered in blood”
Ivar held back a chuckle and hummed.
“You were impressed by that one, huh?”
“What I mean, Ivar, and I know I say the same every time but I will keep repeating it until it gets into that pretty little head of yours” you grabbed his face to make him look at you “There’s many ways of being a warrior, of being strong, and you keep showing everyone everyday that you are as good as any other warrior. You keep showing me. The Gods kept you alive for something, Ivar”
His lips curved into a soft smile and he turned his head to kiss your hand.
“Sometimes I think you’re a Goddess” he muttered “Sent by the Gods to save me”
“Maybe I am” you smirked, giggling “Or maybe I’m just a woman who chose to stay by your side, because I fell in love with you”
He was taken aback. It was true you had said those words before, but he never truly believed them. You said them laughing, kissing his cheek after a joke maybe, or half asleep after sex, maybe when you were apologizing after a fight or trying to convince him to do something. But you had never said it like that, he never thought someone could actually fall in love with him, be by his side willingly, without the norns dictating their fate.
His mother loved him because he was her son, because giving birth to him was like fighting a battle against death and she felt the need to protect him. Floki loved him because he raised him, he shared all of his knowledge with him. Ragnar maybe loved Ivar because he saw a part of himself in him, and Ubbe had cared for him thinking it was his duty after their father left. Hvitserk jumped ship for himself, so he could feel in control of his own life for once.
But you… You had no reason to stay by his side. You had no reason to stop him from jumping into the water that night you met.
“What?” you smiled softly at his dumbfounded expression. Ivar frowned and cleared his throat, looking away from you and setting his gaze on the ceiling again. Your smile faded slowly.
“I don’t know” he shrugged “I still think it’s fate”
_____________________________________
His arm stopped you. You turned to look into his narrowed eyes with your eyebrow raised. Hvitserk cleared his throat. The battle for Kattegat was about to begin, and you had no time to deal with Ivar’s protectiveness.
“You heard me” he clenched his jaw “I said Hvitserk and some men, not you”
“And I said I’m going with him” you pressed your lips together. You didn’t like him ordering you around in public almost like you were his little puppet. Especially not when you were about to fight a battle.
“And I forbid you go with him” he tilted his head and shot you a fake smile before turning serious again.
“I want to fight” you tried to get off of the chariot again, much to his annoyance.
“And I want you to stay here” he rolled his eyes “What part of you’re not going don’t you understand?”
“And what part of I’m a free woman and I do as I please, including fighting when I want to don’t you understand, Ivar?”
He gritted his teeth, and you were sure he was about to order you got chained to his chariot when Hvitserk interrupted.
“Let her fight, brother” he sighed “She’s a good warrior, we could use a good warrior, I’ll make sure nothing happens to her”
“I can fight better than you, Hvitserk Ragnarsson” you scoffed.
Ivar looked at you intensely again.
“If Björn or Lagertha caught you they might…” he looked around, hoping no one was paying attention to him before finishing his sentence “Take you captive to make me surrender”
“Then it’s a good thing that you won’t surrender even if that happens, right?” you raised an eyebrow “Trust me, Ivar, and focus on not getting killed yourself” you kissed his lips softly before jumping out of the chariot, nodding at Hvitserk. You didn’t turn around to look at him when you ran to the forest, after Hvitserk. You knew you could have stayed back with him and Queen Astrid, but you were there to fight, and that’s what you would do.
“Stay close” Hvitserk muttered as soon as you walked into the trees “Don’t do anything stupid”
“I know how to fight, Hvitserk” you scoffed, annoyed at the way they kept forgetting you could beat every single one of them during your training. Except maybe Ivar. But that was because he knew how to distract you, and he had power over you. It was a good thing you weren’t fighting Ivar.
“I know” he stopped for a moment to smile at you “But just in case”
Everything happened too quickly. When you finally realised you were being ambushed it was too late. You raised your shield and stayed next to Hvitserk as you saw the men falling around you with widened eyes. You didn’t even know from where those small arrows came, but you could barely avoid them until Hvitserk called for retreat.
And suddenly he wasn’t by your side anymore.
You yelled his name as someone grabbed him. They were strange, foreigners, dressed with dark clothes and with their faces painted, and you had to fight off at least three of them before you reached him. The man that tried to strangle him with a rope fell down as soon as you pushed him down, but he managed to turn around just in time to kick you in the stomach.
It hurt more than you would have expected. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and tripped with yourself, falling on the ground with a gasp and tears in your eyes. And suddenly he was on top of you, and his knife got closer and closer.
He missed. Or at least he didn’t sink the knife into your chest like he intended. You managed to move, just a little. But then you felt an intense pain on your shoulder before someone pushed him off of you. Maybe you screamed, but you weren’t sure because you couldn’t hear anything and your vision got blurry. Your belly hurt so much from his blow… Was it supposed to hurt that much?
You heard Hvitserk yelling your name. And when you opened your eyes again he was looking at you, with a panicked expression.
“Y/N, Y/N, come on” he sighed when you finally opened your eyes “Come on, can you walk? We have to get out of here”
You managed to shake your head, and he nodded before picking you up. Your shoulder hurt whenever he moved, but you didn’t complain and instead buried your face into his neck.
Ivar knew something bad was happening, but his heart nearly stopped when he saw Hvitserk carrying you. His eyes widened in horror and he had to hold himself back from crawling in his direction.
“She’s alive” his brother nearly yelled when he was close enough, and Ivar let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding “But wounded, they stabbed her in the shoulder”
Ivar could barely react as Hvitserk pulled you into his chariot. He frowned every time you moaned in pain, and he honestly didn’t know what to do. A part of him wanted to hold and comfort you, but he also wanted to go out there to kill whoever had done that to you. And he also wanted to run away and take you as far from that battle as he could.
When he raised his head again he saw King Harald running to him. And he knew they had lost.
“We are lost” he nearly spat as he reached him. Ivar looked around, feeling more and more anxious.
“Heahmund?” he asked when he couldn’t find him between the survivors.
“That Christian is dead” Harald shook his head, and ordered the retreat. Ivar frowned. It couldn’t be.
“Come on, Ivar” Hvitserk patted his shoulder “She’ll live but she needs a healer”
Ivar only pressed his cheek against yours and nodded before snapping the reins of his chariot. He might have lost the battle, but he refused to lose you too.
________________________________________
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was the blue of his eyes. It immediately calmed you down, and you could ignore the pain on your shoulder a bit easily as you muttered his name. His eyes closed then, and you felt his forehead pressing against yours.
“Don’t ever do that again” he whispered “In your entire fucking life, don’t ever scare me like that again”
“I’m fine” you managed to say, even if your mouth and throat felt dry.
You barely remember getting into the boat. You only remembered a sharp pain in your shoulder, then burning, the feeling of Ivar’s lips against your temple and the warmth of his embrace. And blood, you remembered there was blood.
But you weren’t on the boat anymore. You were in a bed, much more comfortable, and it took you a while until you realised you were back in Vestfold, not in Kattegat.
And that meant you had lost.
“Here” he said softly “Drink some water”
The fresh liquid filling your mouth and falling down your throat felt like entering Valhalla. You licked your lips afterwards, sighing in relief. Ivar kept watching you closely as you frowned and looked at your bandaged shoulder.
“Does it hurt too much?” he muttered, his eyes fixed on it as you laid back on the bed.
“It’s tolerable” you tried to smile to comfort him, but he still had that tormented expression.
“I don’t like to see you in pain” he stated, almost like he didn’t really want you to hear it.
“I’ll be fine” you reassured him, grabbing his hand “What happened?”
“We lost” he clenched his jaw “Heahmund fell, we had to retreat”
You let yourself mourn the christian prisoned for a moment. He was a good man, and you kind of liked him. Even if he seemed to despise you.
“It’s not your fault” you sighed, squeezing his hand softly and offering him a sad smile “Harald approved the plan, no one knew…”
“I should have thought about that” he shook his head “And I definitely shouldn’t have sent you out there”
“It was my choice” you argued “It’s not your fault, Ivar, I chose to follow Hvitserk and I was wounded, it could happen to anyone”
“Yes, but you’re not anyone, Y/N” he scowled at you “Did you know you were with child?”
You froze, letting go of his hand to sit on the bed, ignoring the sharp pain that travelled down your arm.
“What? That’s not possible, I…” you looked down, at your belly covered by furs. It couldn’t be…
“The healer said you were pregnant, and that something during your fight, a blow maybe, killed the child” Ivar looked down, his lower lip trembling “She said it was too soon, and that it might have been dead before the fight, but we’ll never know”
Your hand covered your belly and your throat hurt when you gulped, your face contorting in a sob as you realised you hadn’t bled in a while.
But you were so distracted with the war that you didn’t remember. Now it made sense why it hurt so much when that man kicked you.
“You started bleeding when we got you into the boat” his voice sounded broken now “And I… I didn’t know what to do, Y/N, I haven’t been that scared in my entire life, I…” he let out a shaky breath and you shook your head with your vision blurred because of your tears “Please tell me you didn’t know, tell me you didn’t risk your and our child’s life knowingly”
“I didn’t” you let out another sob, this time against his shoulder. Ivar hugged you tightly, his eyes closed to hold back the tears as you mourned your child together. The child you didn’t know you loved until that exact moment “I’m sorry, I’m… I didn’t know”
“It’s not your fault” he muttered against your temple “But please never do it again. Next time just stay with me”
This time you just nodded, taking a deep breath against his neck.
“It’s fine” he shook his head “You’re alive, that’s all that matters now”
When you finally wiped your tears, suddenly feeling exhausted, you asked with a weak voice.
“Hvitserk?”
“He’s good, eating his fucking weight in food right now” Ivar rolled his eyes and you smiled softly “He stayed here for a while too, but he was hungry… He didn’t eat nor sleep until he was sure you’d wake up”
“It wasn’t his fault” you muttered “He saved me”
“I know” Ivar kissed your head again “I will thank him, someday”
_____________________________________
Ivar didn’t let you fight the next time. You accepted without complaining, as you still couldn’t fight properly even if the wound of your shoulder was healing very quickly. You stood next to him as he watched the battle. A small smile on his lips as he played with the daggers you gave to him. Your eyes travelled around the battlefield, anxious.
“Where ’s Hvitserk?” you muttered. You had been following all his movements since the battle started, but now you had lost him.
“Down there, fighting his dearest brother” Ivar clenched his jaw, and you pressed your lips together in disapproval “I hope he survives”
“Ivar!” you yelled, gasping when you saw the knife pressed to Hvitserk’s neck, approaching them as quickly as you could “Leave him alone, what’s wrong with you?”
Hvitserk looked into his brother’s eyes for a good moment, and you feared any of them would do something stupid. What was it with men and being so aggressive over nothing?
“Sorry” Ivar finally dropped the knife “I’m anxious about the battle”
You gasped in disbelief, shaking your head in disapproval.
“You’re sorry?” Hvitserk narrowed his eyes at him.
“Hvitserk…”
“Yes, I’m sorry you jumped ship” Ivar spat “I know you regret it, and you shouldn’t have done it. It was a mistake. Isn’t that true, poor Hvitserk?”
You looked at him with your lips parting slowly. Almost begging him to just ignore Ivar and leave.
“Maybe sometimes”
You shook your head, refusing to listen to more of the stupid things they had to say. If any of them realised you left, they didn’t try to stop you. It was always the same. Ivar trying to pick up a fight with Hvitserk over nothing, almost like blaming him for something. You tried to make them stop, but they wouldn’t listen. Ivar never listened.
“He’s your brother, Ivar”
“He’s a grown man” he shook his head “He chose to fight, he’ll be fine”
Hvitserk knew you tried your best to make them stop fighting. He knew it hurt you to see them like that, and while you were recovering he avoided fighting Ivar for that same reason. No matter what he said, or how he said it, he just ignored him. But that day it was too much.
The moment in which he jumped ship replayed into his mind constantly, he tried to see what he had done wrong, tried to picture his life staying in that boat and going back to Kattegat with Ubbe. Going back to bed with Margrethe, maybe finding someone to marry himself and fighting alongside his big brother, as he always thought he would. But something about that life repulsed him. The thought of being trapped in that role forever, always following Ubbe and Björn, not being relevant for anything, doing what he was told all the time, not being able to choose when and with whom he would be fighting.
But, was it worth it? Was being under Ivar’s orders better than being the little faithful dog Ubbe wanted him to be? He didn’t have it in him, he couldn’t lead like Ivar did, he didn’t have his mind, his vision. But he didn’t want to lead anything that wasn’t his own future.
He fought moved by the anger he felt. He cut down more people than he could count, let out a scream every time the blood splattered onto his face, there was some kind of relief every time he sank his sword into someone’s chest. Maybe he imagined Ivar a couple of times, until he came face to face with Ubbe.
He stood there, knowing he wouldn’t be able to kill any of his brothers. Not yet at least, not even Ivar. He preferred death, and Odin’s golden Hall sounded much better than what awaited him in Midgard. He would drink mead and eat from Odin’s table. Then he’d fight, like he was doing now. But at least he wouldn’t fight any of his brothers. He wouldn’t have to choose.
Ubbe yelled, and he yelled too, closing his eyes and waiting for the final blow to come. He’d welcome the Valkyries, he was ready.
But it never came. When he opened his eyes again Ubbe was stepping back, fighting someone else. Valhalla would have to wait for him a bit more.
“He doesn’t mean it, Hvitty” you sighed, almost desperately, as he walked next to you, away from Ivar “He loves you, you’re his brother, you’re the only family he has left”
“Stop justifying him, Y/N” he licked his lips, still furious because of Ivar’s words “He’s fucking crazy”
You stood silent then, until the point he almost considered apologising to you. You did everything in your power to help him deal with Ivar, and it wasn’t your fault.
“He’s angry, he really wants to win this battle”
“It has nothing to do with the battle, Y/N” he sighed. He understood your position, he even admired it, but sometimes it was like you didn’t want to see the truth “He has always been like that, just not with you. At least not yet”
You widened your eyes at him, and Hvitserk softened his expression.
“What do you mean?”
“He wants power, he wants to be feared and known, that’s the most important thing for him right now, the sooner you realise it, the better”
“Ivar would never…”
“Ivar is out of control, Y/N” he sighed “I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s the truth”
“I know what you mean, Hvitserk” you shook your head, pouting softly “I’ve seen it, but I think he just needs time” you muttered “He wants to be loved, not hated, and I’m trying my best to show him how much I love him” this time you looked down, hoping that both Hvitserk and you were wrong about this “Even if it never seems to be enough”.
“It’s time” Ivar smirked next to you, looking down at the enraged battle that was being fought. The men behind you screamed and laughed, excited for the battle to come, Ivar paced around leaning onto his crutch, and his cruel smile only grew wider before turning to you. You almost stepped back, somehow wary of him as he cupped your cheek with a softness no one there would have guessed and kissed you softly before muttering against your lips “Stay behind me”
You nodded, not intending to leave his side, before he turned around again. And he threw his crutch to the ground.
You watched him with your mouth parted and intimidated by the power he irradiated. You weren’t the only one feeling it, because the cries of war of the men around you increased. And he walked. Without a crutch, anything to support himself with, he walked before his men, and shouted, and gave them the last push they needed. Amazed, you watched all those men that probably had underestimated him at least once in their lives willing to fight for him now, cheering as he took step by step, limping softly, and giving the order for them to join the battle. And they did.
“Maybe when the sun goes down you’ll be Queen of Kattegat”
You didn’t turn your head around, but smiled as you finished braiding your hair for the battle, looking down. The sound of his crutch was closer and closer, until you could feel his presence just behind you.
“I’m still not married to you” you stated, shrugging “So I can’t be queen”
“Hmm… That can be arranged”
You giggled as his fingers traced your braided hair softly, almost like he was afraid of undoing them.
“But even if I’d love to see you sitting by my side with a crown in your head, you know that’s not the main reason why I’m going to battle today”
“I know” you grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“I need to avenge my mother” he said, sternly “I need to kill Lagertha, and I’m going to make it hurt as much as it hurt to have my mother taken away from me”
“I was there when Aslaug died” you sighed “I mourned her too, she was like a mother to me too”
This time you turned your entire body to look at him.
“So I will be by your side until the very end, Ivar”
He smiled then, nodding slowly as you pressed your forehead against his.
“I know you will, little one” he muttered “You always are”
Then the arrows came. Like rain, they seemed to fall from the sky, and for a moment you feared they’d reach Ivar. His body acted like a shield between you and them, but none of the arrows reached him. He laughed and stood there proudly, almost defying the Gods. They struck some of the men around you, but never him. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing you were right from the beginning. Approaching him, you leaned your cheek on his shoulder, watching the scene under you maybe with renewed eyes, now understanding the power of the man you had by your side. A power given by the Gods that made him untouchable and unbeatable. Almost like he was one of them.
Ivar gave the last order, and you could almost feel the desperation of the men in the battlefield as the Franks entered.
And then they fled. They retired. The battle was over and you had won.
“I promised you a crown” Ivar cupped your cheek again as the losing side ordered the retreat, and whispered as he fixed his eyes on yours “And I just won it for you”.
A/N: Hello! This is the first part of the fic I wrote for the Vikings Big Bang and that was posted a few weeks ago on AO3! As I said a couple of days ago I’m going to post it here too☺️ so here it is! It has 7 parts, tonight I’ll just post the first two (because the first one is short!) and in the next few days I’ll continue. I hope you all like it, thank you for reading!❤️
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, ableism, anxiety, hints of depression, low self-esteem, mentions of death, blood, fights… Smut, oral sex (female receiving). Also talk of an arranged marriage.
Ivar could hear the distant sounds of the feast. The laughs, yells, even the fights. If he closed his eyes he could see the people dancing, feel the warmth of the fire on his skin, hear the happy music and smell the meat and the fish on the plates, taste the sweet mead. There was only joy and celebration, the men forgot their differences and drank together until they passed out in the Hall. Maybe in the near future they would try to kill each other.
His eyes were fixed on the sea, though. It was calm and dark, and Ivar wondered if the water would be as cold as it seemed. The wind wasn’t as cold now, though, the summer was close and the nights got a bit warmer. He wondered then if anyone in the feast realised he wasn’t there. His mother would probably start looking for him soon, and Ivar didn’t want to look at her in the face and say what he was thinking out loud. She was probably the only one that could stop him.
Sigurd’s voice echoed in his head again. “Father left you to the wolves, that was smart of him".
Aslaug had gasped then, even Björn had frowned at that. Everyone on the table looked at Ivar, with pity on their eyes.
“What? We all know Ivar is nothing but a burden here, our lives would be much better without him”.
Everyone glared at Sigurd, tried to ignore him and even rolled their eyes, but Ivar knew what they were thinking. Ivar knew they thought that same thing about him too. At least Sigurd was brave enough to say it out loud.
He tore his eyes from the dark water and fixed them on his legs. Bounded together with leather cords, they seemed to hurt more than ever that night. He had seen everyone’s eyes fix on them at least once, but the worst part was when everyone looked up at him and he was able to read their thoughts. In some of those strangers’ eyes he saw mockery, they obviously thought he was useless, but the worst ones were the ones that pitied him. A viking that can’t walk? Can he even approach a woman? He won’t have children, he won’t fight in a battlefield, he won’t discover new lands nor build kingdoms, like his father did.
He will die in bed, during a cold night, without achieving anything worthy. He won’t reach Valhalla.
That was funny for some of them, sad for others.
Ragnar had thought the same, that’s why he decided to leave him in the woods to die, as Sigurd liked to remind him. He preferred a dead son than a crippled one. He thought Ivar wouldn’t survive that long, and if he did he would have a life full of misery, it wasn’t worthy…
Ragnar Lothbrok was always right.
Grunting in rage, he punched his right leg repeatedly. He was so angry, sad and cold that he barely felt the bone break. That morning he had woken up with very blue eyes.
And then he looked up, repressing a scream directed to the Gods. Why did they curse him with something like that? Was it some kind of punishment? He couldn’t understand, and it drove him mad not to understand things.
Maybe soon he would be able to ask them directly.
But just when he was about to jump, looking down at the water again with tears of rage and desperation in his eyes, a voice startled him.
“A bit late for a bath, isn’t it?”
Ivar jumped, turning around to find the person that dared to bother him. He felt uneasy then, knowing someone had witnessed his breakdown, his most vulnerable moment. But it wasn’t any of his brothers, no one he knew, actually. It was a girl, who stood there looking at him with her head tilted, wrapped on a woolen cloak that probably belonged to someone way taller than her. Ivar could barely see her face in the darkness, but he knew he didn’t know her. At least her voice wasn’t familiar.
“Who are you?” his hand reached for the knife he had on his belt, and watched the girl frowned, stepping back.
“I don’t think your mother would appreciate it if you threw a dagger to one of your guests” you bit your lip. You knew Ivar Ragnarsson, the youngest of the princes of Kattegat, had a reputation of being short-tempered, and even if you really wanted to help him, you hoped to do it without risking your life.
One of your guests. So that’s who you were, probably the daughter of one of the Earls that had arrived in Kattegat in the last few days and who were now getting drunk and laughing in the Great Hall.
“You weren’t thinking about jumping, were you?”
Ivar rolled his eyes, annoyed. He didn’t know who you were, but he was losing his patience.
“Why do you care!?” he yelled, the tears had dried on his cheeks “Why don’t you just leave?”
“I heard your fight with your brother” you sighed, and finally started approaching him “I heard what he said to you”
Ivar clenched his jaw. Great, someone else pitying him, another grimace and more sympathy words. He was so sick of it.
“Why do you care?” he repeated, scoffing “Leave”
“No” you frowned “Not until you’ve listened to me”
If Ivar Ragnarsson thought he was stubborn… Well, he still had to get to know you.
“Why would I listen to you? I don’t even know you” he rolled his eyes.
“My name is Y/N” you tried to smile at him.
He didn’t smile back.
“I don’t care” he looked away when you were finally closer to him. He tensed, and you stopped walking, kneeling on the cold ground to sit.
“I don’t think you’re a burden” you muttered. Ivar froze.
“You don’t know me” he narrowed his eyes.
“No” you agreed, sighing “But my father brought me here telling me I should get to know the sons of Ragnar, because I will probably marry one of them when I get older, when I start bleeding” you said slowly, expecting his yelling again. But he didn’t interrupt you this time “He encouraged me to talk to Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd, and no one mentioned you until I asked”
“Don’t worry, your father wouldn’t marry you to a cripple” his tone was cold, and you widened your eyes at him.
“I’m not worried about that, in fact, the only one that caught my attention was you”
Great, now she’s amazed because she sees me like a freak.
“I mean” you sighed “The only one I want to get to know right now is you, because I…” you interrupted yourself, flustered.
“Save your pity” he glared at you “I don’t need it”
“I don’t pity you” you shook your head “Maybe at first I did, a bit, but then I saw you fighting” your voice sounded amazed “I saw you taking down your brothers, with no effort, I’ve seen you speak, I’ve seen you play Hnefatafl and win every single time, I… I’ve seen enough to know you’re not a burden, but instead I think you’re the most special of the sons of Ragnar”
Ivar didn’t answer at first, too stunned after hearing your words. He hadn’t seen you watching him, he thought no one would pay attention to him for as long as his brothers were around. Most of the guests didn’t even acknowledge his presence until Aslaug or Ubbe introduced him. But there you were, listing all the things you admired.
“I can’t walk” he clenched his jaw again, but this time at least he wasn’t glaring at you “I can’t fight properly, I can’t do… Normal tasks, I can’t be a viking” he nearly growled, with his eyes full of tears.
“But you are a viking” you shot him a sweet smile “You fight better than many men I’ve seen without using your legs, you’re smart, you are strong… Your brother is wrong, you’re not a burden, and you deserve to live as much as any of your brothers do” you sighed “I can’t really change your mind if you want to drown in there” you nodded at the black water “Because you don’t know me and probably don’t care about my opinion, but it would be a pity, because I’m sure you’re destined to great things, Ivar, and I think you’re worth much more than you believe”
He hesitated then, and his cold eyes travelled from you to the water.
You smiled in victory when he moved in your direction, looking like he had changed his mind. What Ivar couldn’t understand was why did you care so much, why did you follow him out of the feast? Why were you so worried? What made you step closer to stop him?
No one but his mother would care, he had thought, and she would even be relieved with time, because she wouldn’t have to spend every single day worrying about him.
Before he could open his mouth again to ask you, Ivar heard his name, and as soon as he looked in that direction he saw his brothers. In some way, it comforted him to know they had been looking for him. That they cared in some way, maybe because Aslaug made them to, but they were there anyway. Ubbe and Hvitserk approached them with a worried expression.
“We couldn’t find you” Ubbe nearly scolded him “You shouldn’t be here all alone, it’s late and cold” he sighed, but stopped when he saw you sitting near him. Ivar blushed, thankful for the darkness that hid it, and watched as you smiled nervously.
“Hi, sorry, Ivar and I just went away to talk for a bit” you said in a sweet tone “It was noisy near the Hall so we came here because I said I wanted to see the fjord” you lied, and Ivar was secretly relieved that you didn’t say the truth.
“Hi Y/N” Ubbe smiled at you “I’m glad you both had a chance to talk a bit more”
You’d swear he was even nicer to you when he knew you were talking to Ivar than he did when you were talking to him. Hvitserk was smirking from behind him.
“Me too, Ivar is really nice” you stood up “I better go now, my father is probably wondering where I am and he wouldn’t like to know I’m alone with three boys” you giggled “I’ll see you tomorrow, good night!”
You only leant down to kiss Ivar’s cheek, making his skin burn to the point he thought everyone could see it, before you turned around and left. Ubbe muttered a goodbye and turned to look at his little brother with a wide smile on his face.
Great, he’d have to deal with their teasing for days.
_____________________________________________
Ivar looked surprised, to say the least, when you entered his chambers just as he prepared to leave for England. You wore a beautiful blue dress, probably a gift from Queen Aslaug, and your hair loose, showing your status as an unmarried woman that your father hoped would attract some suitors. Even if you rejected every single one that asked for your hand.
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding” you smiled shyly “Ubbe told me you were preparing to leave with your father”
Ivar winked a few times and nodded slowly, feeling his cheeks burn as you approached him, a small smile still on your lips. Even if some years had passed since you met him for the first time, you still felt nervous and shy every time you approached him.
“May I?” you pointed at the spot next to him on his bed.
“Sure” he muttered, shrugging.
Sitting down next to him, you looked at his legs. He had discarded the leather straps he used to bind them together, and you spotted the pair of crutches leant on the bed.
“I wanted to say goodbye to you” you sighed “Your mother said…”
“That I will die, I know” Ivar clenched his jaw.
“I think she’s wrong” you added quickly “It’s not like I’m going to say that to her ” you chuckled “But I think you will survive”
“I’m a cripple” he sighed “Every journey is dangerous for a cripple”
“But you’re much more than that” you frowned “We’ve had this conversation many times”
“Not this year, though” Ivar bit his lip “You haven’t spoken to me since you came back”
For years, Kattegat became your home for the spring and the summer, waiting for the moment in which you’d have the proper age to get married and also to choose to whom you’d be married. Your father, an Earl that was fortunate enough to have sons, was obsessed with the idea of marrying his only daughter to a prince. And what is better than a prince? A prince that is also a son of Ragnar.
That year, though, you felt the pressure more than ever, your father wanted you to get closer to Ubbe or Sigurd, but instead you got closer to Hvitserk and Ivar. Hvitserk having a questionable reputation with women in the entire kingdom and Ivar being definitely not an option for your father. This year he gave you a warning; either you came back home with a suitor or he would choose your future husband.
“I thought you didn’t want to speak to me” you muttered, looking down at your lap “You were with Margrethe”
He clenched his jaw at the mention of her name.
“I was with her because you ignored me”
“I didn’t ignore you” you frowned “I just… My father wanted me to choose a husband this year”
Ivar’s eyes turned cold, and he looked at his legs as he adjusted the straps around them.
“Everyone says you’ll marry Hvitserk”
“Everyone but me” you smiled softly “I wouldn’t marry Hvitserk, I love him but he’s like a brother to me”
Ivar frowned.
“Better him than an old man”
“But he’s not my first choice” you raised an eyebrow, and looked away as soon as he turned his head back to you.
“Do you even have a choice?”
“I like to think I do, yes” you smiled softly “Even if my father has the last say on it”
“And who is your choice then? Sigurd?” you heard the mocking on his tone.
“No” you licked your lips nervously “I brought you something”
Ivar opened his mouth to reply to you when he saw you holding something.
“I had it made for you” you smiled softly “I wanted to give it to you before leaving, but I think you might need it in England” you muttered.
The sharp edge of the knives shone even in the dim light of the chambers, it ended on a ring instead of an usual handle. Better for throwing instead of stabbing, like Ivar used to do. They came in leather sheaths, with serpents carved on them. His finger caressed the blade, a stunned expression on his face.
“They are beautiful” he muttered, and looked up to you again “Thank you, Y/N”
You smiled brightly at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back before looking down at the knives. No one had ever given him weapons before, probably thinking that he couldn’t use them. Every single weapon he had was made by himself in the forge. You admired his face once again. His hair was getting longer, and you thought he’d look very good with braids. His bright eyes looked at the gift with admiration, and your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you again.
Before you could even think twice about it you grabbed his face and kissed him. At first he froze, you could feel his lashes touching your skin as he blinked a few times, before he kissed you back.
“You have to come back from England” you sighed against his lips when you broke the kiss, your eyes were wet now, and your heart beat so fast against your chest you feared he would hear it “Promise me you’ll be back”
_______________________________________
His tears wetted your dress, his head pressed against your chest as you caressed his hair, you closed your eyes and pressed your cheek against his head. Ivar’s body shivered every time he sobbed, and you felt your eyes full of tears. You wished you could just take all of his pain and suffering.
“I didn’t mean to kill him” he whispered, and his ragged breath made your stomach clench “I swear, he… He was my brother”
“I know” you frowned softly. You had also gasped in horror when the axe had sunk into Sigurd’s chest. It was true you didn’t get along with him, but his shocked face as he tried to approach Ivar with the axe was printed in your head. The words he had dedicated to his younger brother weren’t nice, but he didn’t deserve that death.
“I feel so alone” he muttered “They don’t believe me”
“You’re not alone” you kissed his temple softly “Ivar, look at me”
When he finally fixed his now reddened eyes on you, full of tears and widened with desperation, your fingers caressed his cheek.
“You’re not any of those things Sigurd said” you pressed your forehead against his, whispering. No one knew you were inside that tent, and no one could know.
Ivar didn’t reply. You had seen the way his brothers had looked at him during Sigurd’s funeral, you had heard the whispers and the way people fell silent whenever Ivar approached. Your own father was wary of him now, and instead of saying he was a ’helpless cripple’, he now stated he was a dangerous man, unstable and temperamental. You understood everyone’s fear, you had felt it too when you saw his face contorted in rage directed at his own brother, the confusion when he realised what he had done.
For a moment you were scared. Scared of him and his temper. Ivar had never done anything to hurt you, he never hit you nor pushed you even when the two of you fought like you had seen other men do with their lovers when they were angry. He refused to train with you, afraid that he’d hurt you by accident. Because, even if you were strong and could fight as well as any man, he had maybe too much strength sometimes. But, what if you ever said something that angered him as much as Sigurd had? Would he throw an axe at you too? Would he scream and threaten you? Or would he hold himself because it was you?
“He was always making fun of me, he laughed at me, he blamed me for everything, he hated me” Ivar clenched his jaw, and for a moment you saw the rage in his eyes again and shivered.
“He didn’t hate you” you pouted, and he shook his head, sitting up and getting away from you. His hair was dishevelled, longer than ever now. He didn’t cut it since you said you’d like to braid it one day.
“He did” his voice was broken and he sniffed, rubbing his face again “And everyone hates me now” he sighed “Floki is leaving, my brothers won’t look at me in the face”
“I’m still here” you nearly pouted. Sometimes it felt like he took you for granted, almost like everything you did for him was overlooked, he expected it already.
But you weren’t his wife yet, you were still fighting your own family to marry him, and sometimes you wondered if he’d do the same for you.
Ivar drank an entire jar of mead before laying back down, his face red and his eyes puffy from crying. You sighed and hugged him again, this time leaning your head on his chest and letting his heartbeat calm you again.
“Sleep, you haven’t slept in days” you whispered, and Ivar nodded slowly.
“Will you stay?”
You muttered a small ‘yes’ as he put the furs over the two of you. You would always stay, until he stopped asking. Even if you had to deal with the whispers and the glares of your family the morning after. Ivar would need to prove himself better than a couple of good strategies in battle to gain your father’s favour and your hand. Even if you couldn’t care less.
Ivar’s lips touched your temple softly, silently thanking you for being there. And then he held you the entire night.
________________________________________
Your hands nearly collided with his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you leant down to kiss his lips again. The furs the thralls had put on the Bishop’s bed, which Ivar had claimed as soon as he entered York, felt soft and warm against your naked skin as his calloused hands, scarred from years of holding weapons and crawling, caressed your waist, the curve of your ass and your thighs that rested at each side of his hips. Ivar groaned when he felt your breasts pressed against his chest and he bit your lower lip, drawing a bit of blood that made him moan.
He still tasted like blood, battle and death. You had seen him, screaming at the top of his lungs to a crowd of terrified Saxons, even if you were scared because any of them could hurt him. No one dared to approach him, they widened their eyes in fear and the men in his own army whispered in admiration. Finally, all of them saw what you had seen in him since the first day.
And later, as you washed the blood off of him, he had kissed you for the first time in days. You were afraid that he had forgotten about you, that he was too busy conquering York and fighting the new Saxon king, but as he muttered just how much he missed you and took your clothes off, forgetting the bath you were preparing for him, you realized you had been stupid. He could never forget about you.
Ivar’s fingers worked wonders, and you couldn’t keep quiet even if you tried by the time you made it to the bed. You fought to take his clothes off but could only get him shirtless before he got maybe too impatient, and grabbed your wrists to pull you into his lap, as he always did during the feasts. Your father had resigned a long time ago, but since he conquered York he seemed much more keen on letting you marry him. You had even heard him talking about how Ivar had the mind and the spirit to conquer all of Northumbria if he ever wanted, but you knew he wasn’t interested in Northumbria, at least not yet.
“Come closer” Ivar muttered, pulling you up with his hands on your thighs “Hvitserk told me something he did with a shieldmaiden a few days ago…” he barely finished.
“What?” you raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh.
“Your knees on both sides of my head” he ordered, his lips curving on a smile. You gulped, suddenly feeling shy as you obeyed, crawling over him and looking away. Ivar’s eyes shone with anticipation, and you gasped when he licked his lips before looking up at you.
“Don’t hover, sit” he frowned, grabbing your hips to pull you down. You yelped and put your hand on the wall behind the bed, trying to keep your body still as you moaned when his lips touched your sex softly.
“Ivar, what…?”
“Shh” his teeth dig on your inner thigh and your legs started trembling, still caged inside his strong arms.
“You won’t be able to breath”
He rolled his eyes again, pulling you closer again.
“I can think of worse ways to die” he shrugged, and bit your thigh again “I would be welcomed in Valhalla”
You couldn’t reply, instead your nails scratched the stone wall as his lips kissed your sex again. Then he started using his tongue, and your eyes fluttered as your entire body trembled. You were almost ashamed of the sounds you were making, and hoped that the guards at the door didn’t hear you. Ivar’s hand grabbed your hips as the other one touched your entrance again. His icy eyes were fixed on you and you could feel his stare even with your eyes closed.
When you came, you moved your hips against his lips and moaned his name loudly. Ivar didn’t seem to care when your thighs clenched around his head. You felt dizzy and very sensitive when your orgasm ended, and had to lean on the wall to avoid falling over him. Ivar chuckled and kissed your inner thigh before you moved down to straddle his hips again. He wiped his mouth with his hand, a smirk on his lips and you nearly moaned again at the sight.
“Wait” you gasped as he pushed his hips against yours “Please, I need a moment” you muttered with a giggle.
He didn’t answer, instead he sat on the bed, pressing his bare chest against yours as his lips captured yours. You could taste yourself in his lips, and you deepened the kiss sighing into his mouth. It felt nice to have a less intense moment with him, but it didn’t last as he undid his laces and pressed his cock against your entrance. You were still sensitive, but let him thrust into you. The two of you moaned at the same time, but he didn’t move again until you did. This time his eyes fluttered and his skin turned somewhat red, as he gasped every time you moved your hips. You pressed your forehead against his and you’d swear it was the most intimate moment the two of you had ever shared. Ivar moaned your name and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You remembered his screams on the battlefield, the fear in his enemies’ eyes, and before you could even realise, you came again, clenching your walls around him and making him groan and moan loudly.
Trying to catch your breath, you laid down next to him. Immediately, ivar covered you with the furs, and you pressed your face against his shoulder, smiling softly. Ivar hummed and his arm sneaked around your waist to pull you closer. Giggling, you raised your head to look at him, frowning when you looked more closely at his injured eye. Your thumb caressed his cheek just under it.
“It will heal” he whispered, shrugging it off “I’m more worried about my brothers and their plans”
“Maybe next time don’t risk your own life like that in battle” you scolded him softly.
Ivar rolled his eyes.
“Ubbe will go to the English to make a deal” he clenched his jaw “He won’t listen to me”
“Maybe peace is a good option” you sighed “I’m tired of war”
“Peace is not an option” Ivar frowned “But once they fail, maybe they will realise I’m the only one able to lead this army properly” he muttered “I’ll be king, Y/N, and you’ll be my queen”
You smiled softly, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Something in his tone seemed off. It unsettled you.
