#vikings imagine
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
Masterlist
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.
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