#vikings imagine

Thank you for reading && all the lovely comments. We’re getting to the good parts, I swear.

Also, if you asked me to tag ya before and I forgot - my apologies, please poke me again so I can add you from this point on!

Read the previous: Expo,Part 1,Part 2,Part 3,Part 4

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@youbloodymadgenius​,@poisonous00,@youaremyfamiliar,@castielsangelsx,@lol-haha-joke​ , @readsalot73​ , @love-all-things-writing​ , @xceafh​@ladynightshade30​

If I forgot to tag you I’M SO SORRY and please just shoot me a message and I will add you ASAP. please do not ask to be tagged in the comments bc I’m scared your request is gonna get swallowed up! it’s a lot easier for me to keep track of it if you submit is as a question \message. <3

TW: None really.

His voice is a small thunder in the dead of night. The question lingers, swells, takes a life of its own between the two of you. He’s angry, you’re angry. It doesn’t have to be this way. Or does it?

Where is your god?

Where was he when Ivar tore Erik apart with no mercy? 

He didn’t have the right to take a life.

But you had no business explaining these things to a heathen. 

Yet…feelings were universal. You knew this now, you knew this as surely as you knew you needed air to breath. Because when the two of you were sitting on his bed suddenly there was no heaven or hell. There was no Valhalla or purgatory. No one god, nor multiple gods.

There was only skin, breath and tension.

“You asked for me Ivar. What more do you want?” Your voice inquiries, frustrated. As soon as the question is asked, you realize you’re scared of the answer.

“You know what I want, nun. Don’t play coy. Or stupid. You’re not stupid.” he spits, his expression scornful. You flinch. He’s being hateful, cruel. 

But did you expect anything else? Heathens had feelings too, and his apparently have been hurt.

“No, I don’t. I really don’t.” You swallow, suddenly feeling brave. If he said it out loud, if you finally talked about all of this, perhaps he could see how ridiculous and impossible the situation was. 

“Renounce your god, Y/N. Be mine.” his voice is definitive but his eyes are looking fragile, almost weak. You purse your lips instantly, your heart is starting to pump and beat at an impossible pace, you swear it’s going to fly right out of your ribcage. 

The thought makes you angry and scared. Did he really think he could persuade you into such heresy? He might have been king. Hell, he might have been a god around here. But he was no more than a misguided cruel man to you.

In the heat of the moment, you speak your mind, your cheeks catching fire. “You might be a king around here, Ivar Lothbrok. Some people might even call you a god. But you are nothing more than a sad, lost, little man for me.” You spit, then immediately regret it while watching his expression crumple momentarily. 

His face begins to shiver a little, then his entire body shakes like he’s about to explode.

“I hate you!” he roars, launching as his hands grip your throat. You stumble back onto the bed, his body weight pressing you onto the furs beneath. He squeezes, all you see is black. “I hate you, and your Christian god!” he screams in your face. The moment seems immense, yet it can’t be more than two or three seconds before the pressure around your throat eases up and all you can see is the blue of the ocean in his eyes. Then you feel the wetness on your face. Then it finally clicks - Ivar the Boneless is lying on top of you, crying.

Your chest is heaving, rising and falling - desperate for air. 

Ivar’s fingers slowly let go, like a snake slowly peeling off its skin. Then he rolls to his back next to you silently. You can hear him breathing but neither one of you speaks for a long time afterwards. 

“I should go.” You mumble eventually. All tears have dried, there was nothing left to shed for the beautiful, crippled, incredibly messed up young man.

“I should send you back. Or give you to my men.” he retorts, spiteful. You turn to look at him, pressing your cheek against the fabrics, but he won’t look at you - a petulant child.

“I can’t go back. They won’t have me…they will never believe that…well…” Your voice travels. The priests would never believe your virtue had remained intact in Viking-land where rape came as easy as the swatting of a fly.

“Sleep, Ivar the boneless. I hope tonight’s dreams will bring you remorse and compassion.” you whisper and remove yourself from his bed.

In your chamber, the night feels colder and darker now. You pray for forgiveness and guidance but god is silent as ever. 

You wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. The skin of your shoulder is bare and the covers have slid to the floor. You realize you feel asleep crying, before you could even change your clothes. 

A dark shadow in the corner of the room startles you and now you’re wide awake and reaching for the covers as he leans forward - his serpentine eyes latching onto every centimetre of skin. “Good morning, Y/N.” Ivar’s voice sounds cheerful as ever. Was last night just a bad dream?

“Good morning. W-what are you doing here?” you ask, disoriented. “Now, now. That is no way to address your king, is it, nun?” he points out. The question lingers. The boundaries are completely mixed up now. “But since last night had left us both pretty upset - I will let it slide. For now.” he gestures with one hand and a nod.

“The servant girls are going down to the river soon to fetch water and…ah, other things. Today you will join them.” he says somewhat ceremoniously, but it feels like you’re missing something here. 

“I better go now.” he announces after a moment of silence, then takes his crutches and disappears - leaving you confused and dumbfounded.

After washing and preparing for the day you join the rest of the servant girls as instructed. The walk to the river is strange…it feels longer, and you can almost feel the tension in the air when they whisper amongst themselves - giving you strange looks.

One of the girls, Hilda, is frowning as she whispers something in Tora’s ear. A third girl you don’t know overhears and giggles. Hilda hisses as she suddenly begins to walk your way, her shoulder bumps into yours, nearly knocking you over with the stack of dirty clothes you’re holding. “Do you really think it is wise, Hilda?” the nameless girl asks provokingly, she seems younger. 

“What is she going to do? They say king Ivar no longer keeps her under his wing. I guess this whore of a nun is out of luck.” Hilda says, giving you a hostile look.

Swallowing, you don’t say another word to them. Instead, you sit on a rock, ankle-deep in the cold river as you begin to wash the fabrics. Soon, your hands turn blue and numb. At first they shake with the cold and it feels like hundreds of tiny pins are piercing the frozen skin - but after a while you lose all sensation in them. 

The other girls laugh and talk as they go about their chores. A few hours later, when the sun is already high in the sky, they tell you it’s time to go back. You are shuffling close behind them, carrying the largest basket of clothes - they are wet now and naturally heavier. 

Walking through the main square on your way to Ivar’s cabin, you can see the men standing outside and eyeing you and the other servant girls shamelessly. Suddenly, someone sends out their leg, tackling you and sending all the wet clothes into the muddy puddles beneath you. You land on your hands and feet, feeling a few drops of mud on your cheek.

“Christian Nun, the dirt suits you.” he mocks, a small group of men soon huddles behind him.

This cannot end well for you.

I haven’t been able to post these past few days since I work weekends but I’m gonna get back to posting shit Monday night once I get back home ✌️Here’s the requests I’ve received so far:

- First kiss (Ubbe, Hvitserk & Ivar)

- Losing your Virginity (Ubbe & Hvitserk)

- Ivar having a crush on you

- Harald & Halfdan polyamorous relationship with reader

- Ivar + sexual advances towards modest wife

- Lothbroks + little sister

- Jealous Ivar

- Ivar breeding kink

- Halfdan aftercare

- Rough sex with Ragnar

- Ivar with volva s/o

If you wanna request any more headcanons for me to work on then feel free to. The kinkier the better because I’m a thirsty hoe tbh

Pretty please? ;)

summary: Ivar is the Sergeant at Arms in the Devil’s Vessels MC. You are his girlfriend and he tries to keep you out of his deals but they are going through a particularly nasty one with the English, and the club decides that it is safer for their women to know instead of remaining in the dark.

WARNINGS:swearing, mentions of physical and mental abuse

A/N:I’ve been working on this for two weeks now, hoping you guys like it. I was kind of thinking about doing a miniseries about the brothers and their women in this particular AU if this is popular enough, also THIS IMAGINE IS PRETTY LONG (9 pages on google docs)

Ivar’s eyes wandered around the table, looking menacingly down at the newly patched in members. He didn’t trust them, the last new member that they patched in had ended up betraying them, given he didn’t get very far with their secrets, and Ivar killed him without a second thought. It’s not like devotion to the club was a new concept for him, and in fact he didn’t mind doing the dirty work. On occasion, he craved blood, and conflict was always welcome, so long as confidential information about the club did not escape the confines of the members minds, and as long as you were a safe distance from harm. Ivar admired how you always understood that he didn’t want to talk about club business with you unless the situation permitted, and you never asked him to stop doing the dangerous work. You knew that without the club, Ivar wouldn’t really know what to do with himself. 

Bjorn cleared his throat suddenly, drawing Ivar out of his thoughts. “Ivar, the English are demanding more guns. You’re my Sergeant at Arms, do we have the means to provide?”

Ivar folded his hands in his lap. “We have the means, but I think our time would be better spent elsewhere at this point. We cannot have them thinking that we will be at their side as soon as they ask it, after all.” 

Ubbe nodded in agreement. “I hear they have a civil war brewing, we do not want mass murder connected to our guns.”

“We’ll have to deal with their wrath when we tell them that we are no longer going to provide. Therefore, I think we should tell our women about what has been happening. It is better for them to not be in the dark. If it does get nasty, we need to move everyone into the clubhouse. We’ll take a vote on everything before we leave.”

Ivar came home to you that night exhausted. He hung his kutte up on the coat rack and walked to the kitchen, where you were sitting at the table, coffee cup clutched in your hand. You looked up and smiled, kissing him before he sat down across from you. “We have some business to discuss, my love. Club business.” 

Your hands clenching down on the mug did not go unnoticed by Ivar, so he reached over and took one between his fingers, squeezing lightly. “Am I the only woman that is being involved?”

He shook his head. “No, all the old ladies are being brought into the loop in case something happens.” It was hard for him to tell you about anything. You were strong, stronger than any woman he knew, but he kept you out of this for a reason- to keep you safe. His biggest concern was if telling you would help or hurt the situation, but he didn’t have a choice in that, Bjorn had decided, and that was final.

So he started with how the club got into bed with the English in the first place. It had started with their father Ragnar looking to expand the club, and you knew that, but you had thought the business with the English to be done when Ragnar died. Ivar told you that it never ended there, the sons of Ragnar killed Aella, and then went to business with his rival in England. The trading started off with a small order of fifty guns, and then the demands became larger. “We have received intel that our guns are being used in civil street warfare. Innocents have been killed, and we have decided not to supply them with the means to kill anymore. The women have been brought in because we think the English will retaliate, and I need you to be ready to get to the clubhouse and stay as soon as I tell you to.” Your hands were shaking in his, he brought both to his mouth and kissed one knuckle on each, then motioned for you to stand. Ivar’s arm circled your back and swept under your knees, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

“You have to come back to me, Ivar. If a deal goes south, you have to promise to come back.”

Ivar’s hand cradled the back of your head, kissed your forehead, and pulled you closer to him, his strong arms keeping you in place while he whispered to you. “I’ll always come back for you. Nothing and no one will keep me away. Do you understand, kitten?”

That night was stuck in Ivar’s head as he pulled up next to his brothers in the old warehouse the English had agreed to meet them in. Bjorn, Ubbe, and Hvitserk all looked a bit distracted, their faces plastered with a hard expression to remain strong. Ivar pulled his helmet from his head and glared in the direction of the open door. “How did Margrethe take the news, Ubbe?”

He chuckled half- heartedly, like he was trying to relieve the tension that would only get worse once he said something. Ubbe stared at the ground for a good minute before he ran his index finger and thumb across his eyebrows to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I think she’s gone fucking insane.” All of the brothers looked at him for a moment, trying to assess if he was serious about what he was saying. “She did not talk to me the rest of the night, she wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. It’s like I broke her.” Hvitserk patted Ubbe’s shoulder in comfort and then they looked to Bjorn, who answered without having to be asked.

“Torvi has been involved in sour deals before, but that was previous to our children. She has arranged for them to stay with her parents on the East Coast until the smoke has cleared, she is worried about them having a father after this is done more than anything else.” Before they could say anything else, they were surrounded by black pickups and SUV’s, but only three people stepped out: Aethelwulf and his two sons.

The brothers did not move from their bikes save for Bjorn and Ubbe, who came to the center of the gathering with their arms crossed over their chest. “Why did you need to meet with me? Do we need a change of transport?” Aethelwulf kept his hands folded in front of him, his two sons stepping back so that their father was at the front. Everyone became silent, not trusting what would happen next. “Is there a problem I should know about, gentleman?”

Bjorn was the first to speak, his eyes darting from Aethelwulf to his sons. “You made a demand rather than a request last time I spoke with you. The Devils Vessels MC does not bow to demands.” Aethelwulf stepped closer, his eyes narrowing menacingly. Sigurd and Ivar stepped forward now, flanking Bjorn and Ubbe, who placed their hands on the guns that were nestled between the waistband of their jeans. “Do not get closer. It will end badly, Aethelwulf, I warn you.”

“You will not deny me my guns, my ammo, the spark that I need. I have to ask why the sudden change of heart? Besides the demanding.”

“We didn’t realize you were using the guns to fight a civil war, and to kill innocent people.” Ubbe said, and Aethelwulf glanced in his direction, nodding.

Aethelwulf stepped back to his sons, and the Lothbrok brothers folded into themselves, lining up to get back on their bikes now. The boys straddled the motorcycles and watched Aethelwulf as he stopped at the door to one of the SUV’s. “Boys!” He grinned. “I always get what I want, whether it be by force or will.” Before they could blink, he produced a gun and aimed. The brothers shouted warnings, but before they could duck down, the bullet rang in the air.

One hit Siguard’s shoulder, the other in between his eyes. All Ivar felt was the warm spray on his neck. His brother was hunched over his bike beside him, the blood pouring down the sleek paint from the wounds. Bjorn screamed out in rage, tears threatening to spill over, fists clenched and raised at his sides. Ubbe drew his weapon, firing shots while the vehicles pulled away, the bullets taking out the glass. The motorcycles fired up just moments later, and the boys rode with guns pointed in the direction of the caravan. Ivar felt numb, his brothers blood was coating the backside of him, and somehow he was out here with Bjorn, Ubbe, and Hvitserk. He felt nothing, how was that possible? Ivar was not at all close to Sigurd, but shouldn’t he have felt something other than empty? He wasn’t mad, or unhappy, he was just indifferent.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what you would say, what the look on your face would be when he showed up at home looking like that. He was sure you would be horrified, ask what happened, what went wrong. And he would have to tell you, because war was brewing even now, as they sped down the roads at the highest speeds they could handle to catch up with demons. Ivar felt that he had failed at protecting you from his life in the club, couldn’t shelter you from the horrors and the loss that living this kind of life came with. But what else could he do? He couldn’t stand to be without you, and you wanted to take these chances for him. Who was he to control you?

Ivar threw his kutte down on the laundry room floor and joined you in the shower after stripping himself of his clothes. You shuddered when the rush of cold air hit you, but it was immediately replaced by his warmth. Ivar turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as he brought you up to kiss him. When he pulled away, you grabbed the loofa from behind him and turned his back to you. You tried to hold in the gasp when you saw the blood that was now washing down his back. Ivar’s shoulders tensed and you continued onto the task, putting soap on the loofa and rubbing it across his back.

Lounging on the couch later on, Ivar cradled you between his legs, his arms resting on your chest. He knew you would ask him what happened at some point, why all that blood was there, but you started off with a question he didn’t expect. “What happened at that deal today?”

Ivar went silent. “How did you find out about that?”

“Torvi called before you got home. She told me to ask you about it.” You spun and faced him, adjusting your legs so that you were straddling him, your arms around his neck, his hands resting on your hips. “So what happened?” Ivar considered for awhile. How was he supposed to answer that? When a few minutes passed and he still didn’t say anything, you put a hand on his shoulder. “Ivar, it’s okay to tell me. Let me protect you for once.”

“Sigurd is dead. We told the English we wouldn’t sell them guns anymore, and Aethelwulf shot him. Twice.” You knew he didn’t harbor any love for his late brother Sigurd, but you still leaned forward and embraced him, pressing him close to your chest, as close as he could get. “We’ve made the decision to move our women into the clubhouse. I need you to have your stuff packed because we are leaving tomorrow morning, plan to stay for a week.” He held you tighter.

“Do you think they will come after us?”

He knew that you didn’t want to hear him say yes, even if that was what he thought. One of his hands moved up higher to hold the nape of your neck, the arm fitting snugly around your waist. He only wanted to comfort you, but with a question like that, he wasn’t sure how. Finally, Ivar sighed and kissed your shoulder. “I’m going to do my best to protect you, Y/N. I’ll kill anyone that lays a hand on you, that’s a promise.” Ivar kissed you, capturing your lips in a sensuous, slow burning fire, his hands caressing your face gently, like he would break if he pressed on your skin just a little bit. “I’ll always take care of you, angel.”

You weren’t allowed to leave, that was all you knew. You were more vulnerable if you left, especially without Ivar or one of the boys to protect you. Ivar made it his personal rule that you wouldn’t leave the clubhouse without him or one of his brothers, but you were not to leave with a member or a prospect, he didn’t trust them with you that much.

Torvi was sitting at the bar with a drink in her hand, you behind mixing more. It was only the girls right now, all the men were out riding, finding more help to deal with the English that were breathing down their necks. Margrethe was sulking on the couch in the corner, some of the groupies hanging around with her, hoping to become an old lady like her. Torvi was not fond of Margrethe, and you were on the fence, but in the end she just needed help. The two of you were trying to remain strong, be role models for the other girls, but it was hard to do so when you weren’t sure if you would see the men that you loved. “Do the kids know why they are going with their grandparents?”

Torvi shook her head. “I told them that it was because I would be very busy for a few weeks. My parents know, I made sure to prepare them for anything that could come. My father is chief of police over where they live, so they will be living with a protective police detail.” She swirled the small black straw in her drink for a moment, and then sighed, blinking back tears. “They just love Bjorn so much. I can only hope he is spared in this fight.”

You nodded. “He’ll be okay. Bjorn loves his children more than life, he will make sure to get back alive.”

“What about Ivar?”

You poured yourself a drink then. “We have a life to build together. He promised that he would come back to me, that he would protect me.” You looked up at her then. “I have to hold onto that.” The two of you remained silent while the groupies continued their worried chatter, expressing their concern for the men, even the ones that were taken. You didn’t mind though, Ivar only had eyes for you, and the rest of the women were too scared to even look at him. When the chatter finally stopped, it was quiet, eerily so. Torvi stood from the bar and looked out the window for a moment, her eyebrows crinkling while she stared intently. “What’s going on?”

Her eyes widened and she began screaming commands. “Get in the rooms, go!” You glanced to see what she was so worried about. The English had broken into the compound, their guns were poised at the clubhouse as they approached quickly. “Y/N, we have to go.” You nodded and took the gun from underneath the counter, grabbing a knife to give to Torvi. “We have to go now!” You began to run down the hallways just as they burst through the door, bullets blazing trails in the walls.

You grabbed Torvi’s arm and pulled her to you. “They can climb out the windows, Margrethe can start getting them out. Go!” Torvi went to start the mission while you stayed back, your finger pushing down on the trigger more times than you could count. The men were advancing quickly, one person with a pistol was nothing compared to five men and machine guns. You shot a good few dead, and when the gun was empty, you ran. Ivar’s room was low to the ground, if you could get there and get out, you would be okay, you knew it. The noise of the men shouting at one another was deafening, and they were getting closer, they were faster than you. Your breaths were getting faster and more ragged, your legs tired and unsteady.

A hand reached out and grabbed your arm, swinging your entire body back to theirs. Your hand gripped the pistol tighter and smashed the butt of the gun against his temple, but his strength kept you pinned to him as he fell. The men took the opportunity to grab your arms and haul you up, even as you fought against them, they didn’t stop walking. “Let go of me!” You kicked and screamed but to no avail, they were too strong for you. Finally, they stopped in front of a black SUV, a man with curly hair and a beard grinned.

“I’m Aethelwulf. Your name?”

“Kiss my ass.” You finished off the sentence by spitting in his face, scowling while he wiped at it with his sleeve.

“Boys, shut her up, won’t you?” Your eyes widened and you started kicking again, hoping to get free of them. One man held you while the other raised his gun and smacked it against the back of your head. “Put her in the back, and bind her hands and feet. We can’t have her escaping on us.”

They had been torturing you for days, leaving a deep gash at the top of your cheek that was identical to Ivar’s. They also gave you a busted lip and left you badly bruised. Aethelwulf was relentless about getting information from you, beating you until you were screaming but not badly enough so that you would die. He kept you on a 24 hour watch, so no one could get to you except him and his sons. He made sure you were completely at his mercy all the time, and you didn’t know about the trick he had up his sleeve. The last time he interrogated you, he made sure he got in your head. “You really think you aren’t going to tell me?”

“Since I’m not a rat, you won’t be getting anything out of me.”

He nodded and sighed. “Ivar knows you’re here.” He smirked when he saw your eyebrows raise. “You were the prize in that raid. He had an old debt, you were the payment.” You dropped your head, tears welling in your eyes. Was this true? No, Ivar wouldn’t trade you, he loved you too much. “We’re still figuring out what to do with you, since you are ours to do with as we please now.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively, a smirk playing on his lips. You scoffed, “I won’t be your whore.”

Aethelwulf chuckled a bit. “Sweetheart, you might not have a choice.”

Ivar, Bjorn, and Ubbe worked tirelessly to make a deal with the English to get you back. Ivar barely slept, he always tried to reach for you in the night but came up empty. When he was by himself, he cried at his loss, fearing he would never see you again, or you would come back in pieces- whether your mind was in pieces, or your physical state. His work in the club got more intense, he rode alone at night, worked on the bikes or cars in his free time, anything to keep himself distracted.

Now, sitting at the table with just his brothers, they waited for him to look at anything but the wall. Ubbe glanced at Bjorn every now and then to see if he would say anything. When a few minutes passed, Bjorn put a hand on Ivar’s shoulder and brought him out of his daze. “Ivar, we are going to get her back.”

He nodded. “I just don’t want her to be abused. I am so worried her mind will come back to me broken.” The brothers didn’t respond to that, just assured him that they would get you back. They planned for days, negotiating back and forth with the English while Aethelwulf taunted them over the phone about what he was doing to you. As each day passed, Ivar got more and more aggressive and vengeful, wanting you back so badly. Now, today, Bjorn had news for Ivar. “What’s happening in the negotiations?”

“We’ve come to an agreement.” Ivar moved to the edge of his seat. “We will provide them with five more shipments of guns and they will find a new supplier, in return, they will give us Y/N back.”

Just days later, you were sat in the back of the black SUV, Aethelwulf’s sons sitting on either side of you, inspecting you while you shrank further and further into yourself. “Where are you taking me?”

“Shut up.” Aethelwulf barked from the front seat, and you let the rest of the ride pass in silence. The driver pulled up to an empty lot, save for the line of motorcycles on the other side of the field.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw three of them approaching the SUV, guns hung at their sides. “Ivar.” You breathed it like it was a prayer. He had come for you, he was here. The two boys beside you scoffed, but you paid no mind, all you could do was stare. His hair was braided back, his sharp and handsome features standing out, his leather kutte clinging to his shoulders in the sweltering heat of the day. Aethelwulf knocked on the back window and the boy scooted out, reaching back in to pull you across the seat and out into the light. Aethelwulf cut the bonds on your hands but held onto your wrists, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You could hear Ivar protesting him touching you in the background.

“You’re lucky they had the guns, you would have made a great meal for my men.” He growled it to you and then shoved you toward Ivar. You ran to him, across the dusty field to his open arms, crashing into him. His strong arms held you up and spun you around, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you in place.

You were crying, holding onto him as tightly as you could. He dropped you onto the ground, his back bending to accommodate your height difference. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” Ivar held you tight while he held your face in his hands, kissing you hard and feverishly, your hands dropping to his waist. You were finally home, finally there with him, and you could never be happier to be with this man.

Your Grace Playlist (by@not-another-viking-fanfic-blog)

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!

Part 1: forever winter

Part 2: king of my heart

Part 3: tolerate it

Part 4: exile

Part 5: hoax

Part 6: peace

Part 7: evermore

(this fic was originally published on AO3 on February 15th 2022)

A/N: I’m so annoying lol I’m sorry but just in case chapter 1 wasn’t enough, here I come again❤️

Warnings: A bit of smut (hits of), knife play, mentions of jealousy. Pregnancy, miscarriage. Fights and wounds (battle things). 

Words: 6447

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Part 2: king of my heart

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”.

_______________________________________

Tags:@mblaqgi@alicedopey@lol-haha-joke@hallowed-heathen@naaladareia@tephi101@captstefanbrandt@love-hate-love@titty-teetee@readsalot73@moondustmemories@therealcalicali@blushingskywalker@gruffle1@justacripple@love-dria@heartbeats-wildly@letsrunawaytotomorrow@inforapound@sallydelys@hellogabysblog@trashcanx@winchesterwife27@hecohansen31@youbloodymadgenius@xinyourdreamsx@funmadnessandbadassvikings@eteramfools@tgrrose@lovessce@tootie-fruity@didiintheblog@alexhandersenx@belovedcherry@fantasydevil2002@xceafh@astrape-the-weatherwitch@destynelseclipsa@momowhoo@nanahachikyuu@mcrmarvelloki@valopz@zuxiezendler@mynameisiliana

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.

Words:4555

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Part 1: forever winter 

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.

_________________________________

Tags:@mblaqgi@alicedopey@lol-haha-joke@hallowed-heathen@naaladareia@tephi101@captstefanbrandt@love-hate-love@titty-teetee@readsalot73@moondustmemories@therealcalicali@blushingskywalker@gruffle1@justacripple@love-dria@heartbeats-wildly@letsrunawaytotomorrow@inforapound@sallydelys@hellogabysblog@trashcanx@winchesterwife27@hecohansen31@youbloodymadgenius@xinyourdreamsx@funmadnessandbadassvikings@eteramfools@tgrrose@lovessce@tootie-fruity@didiintheblog@alexhandersenx@belovedcherry@fantasydevil2002@xceafh@astrape-the-weatherwitch@destynelseclipsa@momowhoo@nanahachikyuu@mcrmarvelloki@valopz@zuxiezendler@mynameisiliana

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