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author-morgan · 11 months

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Title: Riverside Rating: M Pairing: Harald Finehair x fem!Reader (and Halfdan the Black) Summary: Harald Finehair may be a fool, but at least he has his brother, and at least he has you. ❤️plot bunny that's been collecting dust for two years by @mrsragnarlodbrok ❤️

down by the river by the boats, where everybody goes to be alone

“YOUR BROTHER IS a fool,” you remark, watching Harald Finehair slip away with the princess who once promised to be his queen—the woman whose husband had only just been murdered in the early hours of the morn. Halfdan the Black watches his brother too, lips twitching as he lifts his cup of ale, taking a short quaff of the weak brew. He’ll be glad to leave England—an army of this size meant dwindling supplies, game, and ever-weakening ale and mead.

He picks off another hunk of meat from a roast pheasant. “Is that meant to be news?” Halfdan asks in turn, smiling as he flicks his stringy blond hair aside and out of his eyes—his dark gaze flitting back to you. Harald’s always been a fool when it comes to women and love, and Halfdan doubts time and age will ever change that.

“Halfdan,” you chide. Harald is a fool—a fool for thinking Ellisif would wait for him, a fool for killing Vik so crassly in the heart of the camp. You both know he is, but watching Princess Ellisif slip away with her husband’s killer makes you uneasy. Grief and the thought of vengeance would not have left her mind yet. And such things can drive people to act in unpredictable ways. “You don’t think it’s odd she wishes to seek a private audience with him only a few hours after he killed her husband?”

Halfdan raises his brow—the blue-black ink of the tattoo on his temple and forehead twitches and wrinkles. At the moment, he’s more content with filling his belly and entertaining your company than fretting over his brother, yet you won’t let the subject rest so easily, and deep down, Halfdan knows you are right, as is the feeling of dread in his liver. “Had it been me, the thought of retribution would not yet be gone, nor the fog of dolor.”

You make a convincing case, and with a sighing frown, Halfdan pushes away from the table and you, heading toward Harald’s tent—hand resting on the hilt of his sword, knowing already he will have to serve as his brother’s protector once more. A moment later, Halfdan emerges from his brother’s pavilion. The sword in his hand is coated with blood, bright and red. And it would seem, after all, he knew women far better than his brother—or at least how to listen to you.

He frees a cloth from his belt and slides it down the blade, cleaning it with a single long swipe as he looks at you, watching and waiting. Halfdan doesn’t have to say anything as he approaches for you to know, but regardless, your lips quirk upward. “Told you,” you declare, and he makes a low sound of agreement from the back of his throat, taking the cup of ale you offer. You knew Ellisif would not have so easily nor quickly forgiven Harald for his transgression, especially after not upholding her promise to wait for marriage.

Harald’s curses and fit of rage ring out in the brisk air. You know there’s little that can soothe his heart and pride, but if anyone in the Ragnarsson encampment can make an earnest attempt, it is you—Halfdan knows this too. “I’ll see to him,” you breathe, taking one last drink of ale. Halfdan grips your arm before you can go to his brother and leans close, offering a soft, quick kiss over too soon.

THE RIVER FLOWS slowly, given its breadth near the encampment of the Sons of Ragnar—a hundred longships are pushed up against the banks and moored in the water. Together, you and Harald walk along the water’s edge, heading north, where fewer ships and wandering eyes and ears are. The blood on his hands and chest is nigh dry, and it makes his red woolen tunic stick to him and stiffens his silver-tinged beard.

Harald Finehair looks at you but cannot dispel what you must think of him, of these circumstances—your expression is only a cool mix of solicitude and what he thinks is annoyance. Yet again, he finds himself failing to understand the mind and heart of a woman—one he has known since childhood, no less. “My brother is lucky,” Harald admits, feeling a spike of jealousy stab at him as he thinks about you and Halfdan, “to have only ever loved you.” But had he ever truly loved Ellisif beyond his desire for her beauty? Even he is not sure of the answer.

You stop near the prowl of one of Jarl Olavsson’s ships—his shields and sails marked by white and dark green—and stare at Harald, aghast and confused by his insinuation. “Do I no longer have your love?” You ask, reaching for him and the leather ties at the neck of his tunic.

“I had thought–” his voice trails off as he looks at the flock of blackbirds flying overhead, unsure if it is a sign from the gods or just an ill omen. He lets you draw him nearer, but it’s only when the flat of your hand connects with his bloody cheek that his gaze and attention return to you—his stormy blue eyes filled with bewilderment and indignation. He stares at you, nostrils flared.

“No, Harald!” You’ve finally grown exasperated by his foolishness—you could tolerate his laments about love and marriage, but to nigh let himself be killed by a recreant woman under such circumstances? “You didn’t think!” You tell him, and Harald steps back, hands curling to fists at his sides. He needs to hear this, though, if not from his brother, then from you. “And if you did, it was with the wrong head.” The same head all men think with first when it comes to women.

“You speak to a king,” he reminds you, puffing out his chest—a weak reply, and you both know it.

You shake your head and reach for him, hands settling on either side of his blood-spattered face—thumbs following the blue-black scrollwork of the tattoos on his cheeks. “And I am also speaking to one of my oldest friends,” you remind him. King or no, Harald and his brother are among your oldest and dearest friends—they could be little more than farmers or simple whalers, and you would think no less of them nor love them less. There’s a shift in Harald’s expression then, as though he realizes the error of his ways in disregarding your and Halfdan’s counsel, and hubris fades to humility. “One whom I care for and love very much.” Love, the word catches him off-guard. Then an ephemeral smile returns to grace your lips. “Even if he is pigheaded at times.”

He forces down the growing knot in his throat. “My brother–” Harald starts, but you press your fingertips to his weathered lips, shushing him and chasing away any apprehension or fear of driving a rift between the three of you with what comes next. “Halfdan knows,” you tell Harald with airy unconcern—fingers slipping down to comb through his silver-tinged wiry beard. Your trysts had never been clandestine, even before whatever this unspoken thing with his brother began before the first raid on Paris. “He’s very astute,” you remark, the corner of your lips quirking upward again. “You could stand to learn a thing to two.”

He huffs, then goes to the river, shrugging off his tunic, and kneels at the water’s edge, splashing the cold water on his face and chest—scrubbing the drying blood of the woman he once intended to marry. He stares at his reflection, shoulders falling forward, accepting his ill-fated pursuit of marriage and defeat, alas. “I’ve been a fool,” he grumbles. You crouch next to him, dipping your hand in the river to help wash the blood from his shoulders and the back of his neck, humming your agreement—gladdened to know it is no longer a whispered secret between you and Halfdan. “You’re not supposed to agree with me,” he admonishes, mirth slipping back into his tone.

There’s a scar on his shoulder, and without thought, you lean toward him, placing the gentlest and quickest of kisses on the raised patch of silvery skin. You can recall how he and Halfdan have gotten most of their scars, but the history of this small mark evades you right now. When you meet his eyes, you see him staring at you with a look of raw hunger and desperation you’re entirely unprepared for, and it sends a wave of heat washing over you. But he’s so gentle when he handles you—even in all his lingering anger and hurt.

He holds your chin until his thumb swipes across your flushed cheek—always touching you like you’re some fragile, precious thing and not a shieldmaiden—and then his lips part, and he exhales a shaky breath, waiting for your permission, spoken or otherwise. You give it with a breathy sigh of his name. Harald. His warm breath hits your cheek, followed by the faint tickle of his scraggly beard at your jaw before his lips are fully on yours. “Let me have you.” His plea is soft against your mouth—and you cannot deny him.

Skirts rucked up around your waist, Harald grips your hips, drawing you closer to him until his wool and linen-clad thigh presses between yours. His touch is fervent—hot palms, calloused from years of battle, scrape over the bare skin they touch. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before kissing you—languid and soft. Your hands grasp at his back to pull his chest to your own. And then he fumbles to loosen his belt, but you knock away his hands, and Harald curses and groans when your hand slides into his undone britches, fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock—stroking him.

Your stomach flutters as his fingers caress you briefly, fleetingly—but gone far too soon. Your hips move towards his touch, but now is not the time for drawn-out caresses and teasing. In truth, he's not focused on your pleasure but more on his desire.

Harald pushes forward, rocking his hips slowly until his cock is fully sheathed inside the warmth of your cunt, and his hips meet yours. You gasp, somewhere between a whine and moan, head tipping back, and Harald takes the chance to press his lips to the base of your neck. He’s gentle as he trails a hand down your side and holds your waist—he and Halfdan have always been two sides of the same coin as lovers.

You lay back—letting him do as he pleases. He needs this moment, this release, far more than you do. His thrusts start slow, lazy almost, as though you’ve all the time in the world—like you’re back in Tamdrup on a spring night in a patch of wildflowers or bale of loose straw in a stable, not lying on a muddy English riverbank on the verge of another battle—not knowing if tomorrow will be the day Valhalla beckons you home.

He looks down at you—splayed beneath him and his gut twists with a sickening realization. I’ve been a fool, Harald thinks again, cradling your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb pressed against your parted lips, chasing a woman who could never love me. But you. It did not matter what misfortunes or victories the gods bestowed upon him. You were always there—never faltering from your place at his and Halfdan’s side. He’s only ashamed not to have realized or acted sooner.

Your legs spread wider to welcome him, squeezing at his shoulders to urge him to move faster. Every push and pull of his hips brings him deeper inside you. Harald pants at your ear, his breathing ragged and strained as his pace falters—thrusts growing quicker and rougher as he seeks release. Beneath your palms, the muscles in his back ripple, contracting with each thrust. His lips find yours again, and you pull him down closer until his bare chest presses against the rumpled wool of your dress bodice—nails scraping across his shoulders and the patchwork of tattoos on his shoulder blades.

The look in Harald’s eyes is nigh unsettling—a mix of emotion you do not wish to think about in this moment of lust and carnality—and you squeeze at his biceps, urging him to move faster, and when his trance breaks, he obliges. He breathes hushed praises against your neck and strokes a thumb over the racing pulse in your neck as he rolls his hips up into yours—strokes long and deep.

You whine and squirm for him, grinding your hips into his. The next time he moves, his cock strikes the place inside you that makes you cry out without thinking, and your toes start to curl—he does it again and again, thrice over. “Harald.” He works himself deeper still, pelvis rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the shiver that goes through you or the way your muscles tense—cunt squeezing his cock tighter. His breathy, open-mouth kisses grow sloven as you fumble to keep in rhythm, your movements slack—distracted by the fog of ecstasy in your head.

Breath hot against your lips, his eyes drift shut in unison with yours. Behind closed eyes, all that triumphs is the feel of your bodies sinking into each other. He will not last much longer. Harald barely manages a coherent rasp of your name, teeth gnashing, when his entire body shivers and he stills deep, deep inside, cock twitching.

His livid eyes are dark, like a stormy sea when they open once more, and there’s a crease between his brows that you have a yearning impulse to kiss away—and so you do, and in the wake of your lips, you smooth your fingertips over his brow. “I do love you, Harald,” you tell him—a breathless whisper—and suddenly, the knot in his throat and the offbeat feeling in his heart is back. “Just as I love Halfdan.”

He says nothing, only rests his forehead against your shoulder and shivers when your hand runs along his back, finding his dark braid to run your fingers along. But there’s a new dampness on your flesh—tears for love lost and love found.

HIS TEMPER IS quelled upon returning to the encampment, even if his heart has yet to mend. Halfdan rises from his spot at one of the fires, leaving the waning conversation with Björn Ironside when he sees you and his brother approach. The whispers around the camp of what happened between Harald, Vik, and Ellisif have already faded with new discussions of the army’s next move in Mercia—steadily creeping closer to Wessex and retribution upon King Ecbert for his part in Ragnar’s death. Harald swallows his pride and glimpses you before turning his attention to Halfdan. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “Yet again, I owe you my life.”

“I’ll always watch your back,” Halfdan replies, pressing a cup of ale into Harald’s hand before clasping his shoulder—then his gaze flits to you, and he smiles, a glimmer shining in his dark eyes. “But next time we tell you to kill someone, you should listen, yeah?” Harald shakes his head, looking down into the cup of ale with a dry laugh. You both told him to rid himself of Ellisif before setting sail to England. He should have listened then—knows he was a fool not to have. But once more, it is the three of you, and maybe that is how the gods always intended it to be.

[Harald & Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @kaexiao / @midnightmuze / @moonlightsspirit / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenfinehair / @queenyalo / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Vikings taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

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psychosncottagecore · 9 months

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öfund

I'm back! Kind of! This was a request from @thelirofnorthlands I hope it meets your expectations dear! Please excuse any errors, as I'm sure everyone can tell I haven't posted in almost a year and it's been a while since I've watched Vikings... but, I couldn't NOT write a fanfic for my beloved Halfdan!

Halfdan loved Bjorn... really he did. He was close to Ironside, respected him, travelled with him, fought alongside him. Halfdan shared a wanderlust and meals and voyages with the blond viking. Really he would share most anything with Bjorn... but you. He refused to share you with anyone. And that was how he found himself, leaned wholly too close to the crackling fire, watching you laugh with the larger man a short distance away. He could not stand for it, would not. It was true, you were not his, not in so many words , but he had thought there to be an understanding, a mutual sort of affection created by sharing bedrolls and stories and lingering looks. Perhaps he'd been a fool, a short sighted idiot oblivious to your pining for his friend just as you were oblivious to his own pining.

Halfdan found a heat rising within him quickly, one entirely different from the heat the fire provided him. This was a green sort of flame rising in his chest, one that demanded some action being taken. It was only stoked as he saw you hand land upon the blonde's arm. He pushed himself up from the fire suddenly, earning a half glance from a man beside him who's name he did not care to remember. The acrid taste of ash from the fire coated his tongue, he was fairly sure it was soot anyway, he hoped it to be soot and not his bodies response to what he thought to be some sort of betrayal.

You turned your head as a hasty movement erupted in your peripheral vision, you had been joking with Bjorn all evening, both of you finding you had some shared experiences that lent themselves to easy conversation. Of course you had wondered about the whereabouts of your closest companion, Halfdan. Closest companion? Perhaps more, certainly one of your bedrolls was empty more nights then not. Either way, you had expected him to come and join you as the moon rose but he had not made an appearance. Although mild concern flitted through you, you knew him to be a capable warrior, as were you, surrounded by loyal men and women no less. No harm had befallen him, you soothed yourself. But Bjorn's knowing look cast towards you told you, you had not hidden your concerns well as the conversation partially trailed off. "He has been sat by the fire watching us like a hawk for hours. How you have not felt his eyes burning into you is some small wonder." Was all he said, placing a hand on your shoulder as he turned his attention to another person talking.

It was when you felt Bjorn's hand suddenly moved from your shoulder that the ounce of concern grew to something bigger, until a familiar weight settled around your shoulders, the scent of smoke and pine and salt enveloped you. "You have been missing all evening." You hummed casually, turning your body into Halfdan's embrace. His arm tightened around you, just a modicum tighter then normal, no where near enough to hurt you, but enough for you to know something was wrong. "Is my company not enough for you?" His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper, as if the volume at which he spoke would betray the inner turmoil that was as plain as day upon his face.

"You wish me to only speak to you?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you moved to separate yourself from him. Close as you may be, and as in love as you thought yourself to be, you would not be chained in any capacity, especially when it came to your friends. A concerned, surprised look pained Halfdan's face and he shook his head hastily.

"Of course not, silly woman." He muttered "I just wish you to only caress my arm, only look so enthralled and enchanted by me. I wish you to stop this, if this is only your way of getting closer to Bjorn." He muttered, the words tasting like acid in his mouth, and still quiet. Oh so quiet, and completely unlike Halfdan. "You are more stupid then you look." You mused to him quietly, taking a step closer towards him once more and using a hand to cup his chin. "Bjorn could neither captivate, enchant nor enthrall me half as much as you do, sweet fool." You murmured, anyone else saying these things might have been reaching for a shield right about now. But instead you looked the viking square in the eyes, they were shining and held wide as he listened, as captivated by you as he thought you to be by Bjorn. "It is you that captivates me, it is you I wish to share my bedroll with, I have no greater wish than to return from exploring and raiding to a hearth with you." That was all the viking had to hear, as you described your wishes, he pledged himself to you, heart and soul, verbally and spiritually and as he did, he finally pulled you in for the kiss he'd been waiting years to be granted.

#fanfiction #halfdan #halfdan the black #vikings fanfic #x reader #bjorn ironside #halfdan x reader #female reader

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woahhhgwendolyn · 1 year

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Morning Sex With Halfdan Would Include...

-Him waking up pretty lazily then he turns around to find you sleeping so peacefully and gets hard when he sees you like this.

-Him getting on top of you and start kissing you all over only for you to slowly wake up and realize what he is doing.

-Him saying good morning to you while also grinding against you and also telling you how much he needs you at that moment.

-Him removing all the furs from your body and start to kiss down your body until he reaches down to your pussy then he starts to go down on you.

-Him loving how you would squirm away from him a bit every time he eats you out. Every time you do this, he has to hold you down to the bed just to be able to eat you out even more relentlessly. He loves it when you cum in his mouth when he is eating you out. So, every time he is eating you out he has to make you cum.

-After he is done making you cum on his mouth he opens your legs even more to be able to actually fuck you. He teases you for a bit and spreads your pussy lips with his cock and teases you like that for a bit until he finally pushes his cock into you.

-Once he is fully into you he loves to just ram into you like it is the last time he will ever see you. And he even likes to rub your sensitive clit while he fucks you just to make sure that you like it too.

-He loves to whisper to you how much he loves you and how much he cares for you while you both are fucking. He likes to make you feel special while you both are doing it.

-He demands you to scream his name so that everyone knows that you are his and that he is yours.

-Once you both were done and got out of your shared tent his brother was waiting outside for him and started playfully making fun of Halfdan because he was fucking you like that.

#norway #scandanavia #viking #vikings #imagines #halfdan #halfdan the black #halfdan imagine #halfdan x reader #halfdan imagines #halfdan the black imagine #vikings x you #vikings imagines #vikings fandom #vikings headcanon #vikings smut #vikings fanfiction

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queenfinehair · 1 year

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The Bartender

(Pt. || Here)

Pairing: Modern!Halfdan x Fem!reader (No use of Y/N)

Warning: Minors DNI. Alcohol use. Mentions of abuse. Just, please, adults only.

Disclaimer: Moodboard is made by me from photos found on Pinterest. I do not claim ownership.

Plain and simple? It was sleazy. A dive bar to be crowned the best by those who frequented it and labeled trash by those who never set foot in. The drinks were watered down, cheap and bitter. So why were you there in this seedy joint?

Him. Again. Plain and simple, your boyfriend had finally done it this time. This time you meant it when you left with a swelling right eye. This bar just happened to be the darkest one you had come across and by God, you needed a drink and fast.

"What'll it be?" A napkin in place of a fancy coaster is slid in front of you and you look up. A deep pair of inquiring honey-brown eyes are searching your face, waiting for both an answer and explanation.

"Oh, uhm, strongest thing you have. Top shelf, please." You're already beginning to gather the money needed to pay for this liquid therapy. A snort of a laugh makes you look up suddenly though, frowning already at the attitude.

"Lady, top shelf here doesn't exist, but I know just what you need. Tequila, straight up with a splash of lime. Trust me."

He wasn't condescending in tone but in your fragile state it still made you both frustrated and teary eyed. You quickly wipe at your eyes and flinch at the contact. "And a raw steak as well..." you mutter under your breath and put a $50 on the bar counter.

"You wouldn't want that either. Again, trust me." He laughs from his belly this time and nods towards the lame kitchen doors. "Food here'll give you poisoning faster than the drinks."

This gets you to smile small and thank him for the drink, "keep 'em coming. I'd rather not feel this tonight."

Taking the money from you, the man pauses for a better glimpse under the dim lights. They're enough to hide from but he knew better. "You runnin' from this guy?"

Shaking your head you take a gulp of the harsh liquor and hiss, "I wouldn't say running, exactly..."

"But?" He holds up a finger to an already drunk man down the way, signaling that he'd have to wait just a minute longer.

Another gulp, another hiss and you look into his eyes, "I need to get away. I need to hide and this place seemed the perfect fit for that. No offense meant, by the way."

He shakes his head with a large grin forming on his lips. "None taken. I'm Halfdan, by the way."

"Interesting name." you begin with your own introduction to the strange man behind the bar. You take another gander and only then do you see that his face is covered in an intricate and intriguing tattoo. The ink was slightly faded and looked to be a shade of blue... or was it black? In these lights the details were easily blurred into obscurity so you just shrug off the color and continue with your drink, noting that Halfdan had left the bottle on the bar. He'd left to help another patron with his needs.

With him helping the drunk male you take it upon yourself to grab the bottle and fill your glass up, smiling to yourself as the liquid courses through your system. Your eye would hurt like hell in the morning, but for now you were content.

"Mark, I told you, you're at your limit." Halfdan swears under his breath as he walks back to where you're sitting and raises an eyebrow at the bottle plopped in front of you. "And you..." He begins slyly, playfully taking it back and grabbing another, stronger tequila. "This is what you'd rather have, I'm guessing."

You finally omit a laugh and nod with enthusiasm, "what happened to no top shelf?"

"That's mostly for people like him," he points with his head, the hair that sits to only one side oglf his head swaying with the movement. "Mark! Go on, get!"

The two men have words and as Halfdan jumps the bar to escort drunk Mark out you watch his build. Slim was the first thing you notice, his tight black t-shirt clinging to his sweating body. Dark blue jeans cling to his hips legs. You stare a moment longer at his ass before raising your brows in appreciation, turning back to the alcohol in front of you.

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"So you've been with this guy 6 months, think it's true love, he's jealous and finally he beats you?" Plopping a peanut into his mouth, Halfdan blows out a breath and shakes the hair from his eyes. "Shit."

The bar is empty now and the time is late. You both have been sharing the bottle of tequila and have moved to a booth. It's shabby, torn and red in color but it's much more comfortable than the stool you'd been sitting on before. A small bowl of peanuts sits in front of you that's being shared and you snort out a laugh now.

"In a nutshell," a peanut is held up with a smile, "that's what happened." And into your mouth it goes. Halfdan watches the movement with wry fascination before he talks again.

"You deserve better than a raw steak on your eye, ya know." He motions with a finger the the very piece of raw meat that he'd gotten out for you. Noting how brown and out of date the steak had been though, you politely had rejected.

You both take a shot and wash it down with the juice of half a lime, licking salt off of the opposite hand and laugh together at the synchronization of your actions.

The old jukebox plays a slower song and you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your head fall down and you groan.

"Ahh, nope. I don't think so, not on my watch." Halfdan slams his hands on the booth table and stands up, swaying slightly. "C'mon then, darling, let's dance the pain away. I'm not good at it but I'll try."

You take his outstretched hand and stand as well, walking with the taller man to the so-called dance floor, laughing at the scuffed linoleum. "I'm sure you dance fine." Your words slur and he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you close.

Your own arms wrap around Halfdan and his chin comes to rest on your head. The room sways with both your movements and the alcohol. A tear or two slides down your cheeks as you think of how nice this strange man is, far more kind than your ex-boyfriend.

"Halfdan..." you begin and as you move to look up, his glossy eyes catch your own. He looks from your eyes to your mouth and back again. The though crosses your mind as well and with so much of the liquid courage flowing through you both, you take the first move and kiss him.

He breaks away first, standing away from you now with both hands up in surrender, "I don't know..." He mutters your name and shakes his head before you take full control. Lightning courage has you in its hold as you close the distance.

"For some strange reason, Halfdan the Bartender... I trust you. Make me feel good. Better than I already do. Please."

He heaves a sigh and takes your hands in his, leading you to the door at the front, where he locks up, turns back and motions to you to follow him now, dropping your hands.

There's an upstairs to the bar hidden in the kitchen with slim, creaking stairs. A door stands in front of you as Halfdan works the locks, opening the stained door to a rather lovely living room.

"So," Halfdan admits sheepishly as he scratches the shaved side of his head, "Welcome to my place. Let's get comfortable."

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Tags; @naaladareia

#vikings #halfdan fanfic #halfdan the black x reader #halfdan fic #halfdan x reader #halfdan the black x fem!reader #part two coming very soon #i promise for it to be better and spicier #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #vikings fandom #halfdan the black #modern!Halfdan #also #liquid therapy? best thing I've written yet #quick read through and i hope i caught all mistakes

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ryuzakemo128 · 3 months

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Vikings Writing Prompts

Trigger Warning:

Mention of Death, fighting, miscarriages, suicide.

If anything mentioned above triggers you. Please remove yourself and continue with your day. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Vice versa, as the mind can affect the body in equal measure.

Prompts for either imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything you possibly desire. As long as it is clearly stated as to what character you want it written for. Otherwise I will not be able to satisfy the particular itch you might or might not want itched and scratched.

Characters from the Vikings Show that I am willing to write for as follows:

Male Characters

Rollo Lothbrok

Ívar Ragnarsson

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Athelstan

Hálfdanr Hálfdansson

Haraldr Hálfdansson

Female Characters:

Lagertha Lothbrok

Aslaug Sigurdsdottir

Personal Note: I would also preface that I will not write things that trigger me. Things like Cheating and Affairs. At least not in incredible detail as it will harm and hurt my mental health in the long run. And if you respect my mental health, you will respect my personal boundaries as well.

If you would like to peruse my previous works in the past feel free to do so. I will not prevent nor shame those who would want to read them.

Here is a link to two masterlists that contain them.

Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

Prompts

Listed below are prompts to choose from if you want to make a specific request for a specific character. First list being SFW and the second one being NSFW underneath the cut.

SFW - Dialogue Prompts

"Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. As much you might dispute that fact."

"You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them. Communication is important."

"Let me eat my feelings in peace and quiet. Otherwise we are going to have many, many, many problems."

"I know I can't go I'm the one getting nearly all the time."

"I don't trust anyone who would place value of one child above another. Regardless of what someone else may or may not have said."

"For a mother you play favourites quite a bit."

"Depends on what you consider to be fair."

"Aim better! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

"You are not my problem. You are theirs. I plan to keep it that way. So neither begging nor pleading to me will not work."

Canon Character x OC/ Reader - Dialogue Prompts

"I am well enough to fight. I am well enough to move around do things myself. Do not coddle me as I were a child and I will not do the same to you."

"I was in exile, I did not abandon anybody, least of all my brother."

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

NSFW - Dialogue Prompts

[TBD]

Vikings Headcanons - Link

Food for the heart and soul - Halfdan the Black x Female Reader - Link

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions - Bjorn Ironside x reader - Link

Life After Death - Bjorn Ironside x female reader - Link

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ritual-unions · 1 year

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Archive of Our Own to see everything I’ve ever written for the Vikings fandom.

** = denotes explicit and/or implied sexual content, please use discretion

Ubbe / Original Character(s)

Sleepy Mornings **- multi chapter, complete, entire fic posted on Ao3. Winnifred lives the sheltered life of a Christian woman in King Alfred’s court. Not truly understanding the meaning of sexual pleasure her new husband, Ubbe Ragnarsson, is more than willing to show her the path.

Green Ivy **- one-shot, Ubbe has been married to Avaritia for many years but she still struggles with his heathenism and the way it creeps into her daily life and that of their children. A thunderstorm one night sends her running to Ubbe’s bed, the family bed he has been trying to convince her to sleep in. She finds not only Ubbe but their two children fast asleep. Ubbe in his tempestuous ways convinces Avaritia to find safety in his arms. (I may continue/add more fics with Avaritia at a later date)

A Feast for You **- one-shot, The Great Army finds themselves at the deserted villa of King Ecbert and Ubbe, feeling the full fervor of battle, takes his Sami consort, Verdandi, again and again, until she can no longer handle his advances. To distract him she tries to scrounge up enough food to hopefully satiate his beastly desires. (I may continue/add more fics with Verdandi at a later date)

Gatekeeper **- one-shot, Ubbe is forced to punish his Sami consort, Verdandi, after she mistakenly reveals the secret entrance into Kattegat to the enemy. Also known as sex-on-a-throne cause I can.

Northern Lights - one-shot, ficlet

Twice Now - multi chapter/complete, entire fic posted on Ao3. For years Ubbe has been promised to the same Saxon girl from his childhood, Avery. He is reluctantly waiting for the day when he will marry Avery, until then the gods will find their entertainment by placing the wilding Saxon, Kara, before him. She is unlike any he has met before, drawn to her though she does not want his help. She is determined to meet her lover, Ceol, on the coast of England before the year ends. Unwillingly she travels with Ubbe and his brother, Hvitserk, in a journey that may just leave them all a little mad.

Wolf Like Me - multi chapter/on going, Ylva Ragnardottir is used to getting what she wants. As the only daughter of the great Ragnar Lothbrok and the famous Princess Aslaug she wants to marry Haakon, the bastard son of King Harald Finehair but Ubbe, forced into a position that should be their missing father's, will not allow it.

Ylva isn't the only one whose hand is being forced, Eir, daughter of the King of Sweden finds herself betrothed to a man she wishes to never see again, Ubbe Ragnarsson.

+++

Hvitserk / Original Character(s)

Hours & Hours ** - one-shot, Hvitserk proposes “Naked Sushi Night” at The Valkyrie Gentlemen’s Club, the strip club owned by the Ragnarssons, just so he can see his favorite employee covered in food.

Touch Me ** - one-shot, Ubbe solicits Hvitserk into having sex with his girl, Dusty, so that he can watch, things don’t go as planned when Hvitserk’s new girlfriend, Honey, walks in on the three of them mid-coitous.

A part of my "Broken Clocks" series, in which the sons of Ragnar own a strip club, The Valkyrie Gentlemen's Club, located in England, much to the annoyance of the Christian council, Ecbert, and his son, Aethelwulf.

Misunderstandings ** - one-shot, Sigurd brings a new American friend to hang out with his brother. She speaks little-to-no Norwegian and Hvitserk takes advantage of her lack of mastery on the language in the form of a bet.

+++

Halfdan the Black / Original Character(s)

Marks ** - anon requested/drabble, Halfdan does not share and he is willing to let everyone know.

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2022 Ao3 End of the Year Review

Requests are open, see this post for more info. Also my inbox and dms are always open, I may not get to them right away but I’d love to talk to you about my fics & ocs and/or Vikings characters in general.

#vikings #vikings history #ubbe #hvitserk #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #vikings fanfiction #ubbe fanfiction #Ubbe’s Wolfpack #Ubbe x ofc #Hvitserk x ofc #hvitserk fanfiction #halfdan vikings #halfdan the black #halfdan smut #hvitserk smut #ubbe smut

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thelirofnorthlands · 9 months

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Arabian nights ❤️ My absolute obsession

“Separated by ink .. connected by heart “♥️

#love quotes #poetry #book quotes #fictional other #imagine your fictional other #halfdan #halfdan the black #vikings #halfdan imagine #halfdan vikings #obsessive love #obsessed with him #longing #poems and quotes #my obsession #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine

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ijustwant2write · 2 years

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Bold Moves-Halfdan The Black x Reader

(GIF credit to @charming-merlin I didn’t even mean to do that, it just seemed like the perfect GIF for your request)

MASTERLIST

Requested by @charming-merlin: ‘Heyy, you were the first writer I requested something from and I just needed to do it again bc I love your writing and I still read the story from time to time. I would like to request Halfdan x f. reader that has secrets feelings for Halfdan but thinks she has no chance so she hangs out with another guy and Halfdan doesn't like it at all because he also has feelings for her and thinks the guy only wants to harm her. You can decide if it's true or not, but please some fluff (or more idk) in the end because I live for soft!Halfdan moments 🥺’

Characters: Halfdan the Black x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of rape, smut, violence, swearing, fluff

(A/N: That message was so sweet, I would love to know what you requested from me before! I hope you enjoy this one just as much)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You won’t get anywhere by just staring.” my friend, Gertrude, pointed out.

She was right, I had been staring, staring at a man who would never be mine. How could he be? He he had his pick of ladies, though it seemed that he was the more strong, silent type. That didn’t stop women, much like myself, drooling over him. It was pathetic, and I could admit that. The rare times I had spoken to him were just mortifying; desperately trying to engage in small talk that could eventually lead to a proper conversation. It didn’t get that far, he only knew my name and how my day had been.So why was I still chasing him?

“I know.” I sighed.“I don’t know what it is, he just attracts me towards him.”

“He is a good looking man.”

“It’s not just that either. He’s mysterious. He’s interesting. But I need to stop this fantasy. It’s clearly never going to happen.”

“Do not be hard on yourself, (Y/N). I feel that Halfdan is a very reserved man, he is never seen dancing or laughing much at feasts.”

“No, but he does gaze after Astrid.”

Astrid, undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in our town, seemed to receive attention from Halfdan. It was a surprise, seeing as she was a very sociable person, very popular too, and somewhat over the top with how she acted. No one could deny she was sweet, but she didn’t seem Halfdan’s type.

Gertrude looped my arm with hers, dragging me towards the harbour.“We need to see who else is out there. I am yet to be married too.”

I giggled.“So we are seeking out husbands now?”

“Yes.” she beamed.“You have plenty of options. I’m not saying choose anyone today, just see who else is out there. It will probably take your mind off of your fantasies.”

I rolled my eyes playfully as she urged us to walk faster. As usual, it was busy by the ships, trading was happening, and goods were being hauled off, ready for the market. We walked away from the crowds, though we could still keep an eye on everything and everyone. There were plenty of other men that were good suitors, I would have to be blind to not see some of the handsome men in town, and I knew many that had good hearts as well as being fierce warriors. Halfdan just seemed to have that edge to him, something that made me intrigued; maybe it was because he wasn’t as friendly or forward as the other men that had the effect on women, he wasn’t trying hard which made us want him to try more.

“You couldn’t wait another day to see the new furs, could you?” someone said beside me.

I turned my head to see a man carrying piles of fur skins in his hands. I had never met him before. He was a lot taller than me, with dark, brown hair that was scraped back into a plait which allowed you to see the features of his face better; he had lovely green eyes, a mixture of dark and light shades of green actually. He was stocky, his muscles probably came from lifting the boxes of goods everyday, as well as manning a ship.

He saw the confused look on my face.“I joke, I know you are not here to steal the latest fur.”

“Oh.” I smiled.“No, I find I am searching for the perfect necklace at the moment. Furs are at the back of my mind.”

“Well, I cannot help you there unfortunately.”

“And why is that so unfortunate?”

“Because that means this conversation is over.”

“And who says that?”

“By the gods you are both killing me.” Gertrude interrupted from behind me.“She shall see you in the market this afternoon. Perhaps you will both come up with better conversations and be better at flirting by then.”

Me and the man were both shocked by her forwardness, and I could hear him laughing as she dragged me away. I also began laughing, stumbling as she continued to have a grip on me.

“Why would you do that? I was talking to him.” I complained.

“I’m keeping you mysterious. If you told him everything straight away, he wouldn’t have anything to chase after. And I meant what I said back there.”

I felt foolish waiting in the market place for a chance to see that man again. He had been forward and charming, but it didn’t mean I was instantly interested in him. Maybe I was holding back because of Halfdan, though I couldn’t let him stop me anymore, I had to take the risk. I tried to walk around the stalls already set up, Gertrude had all but left my side, also staying in the market though she refused to help in my efforts of wooing a man. Gods, was I really this bad at finding someone suitable for me?

“You weren’t making up wanting the necklace then?” a familiar voice said behind me.

Glancing behind me, I smiled when the man from the ship was there. I was doubting him seeing me again, or even wanting to. A bit of flirting sometimes didn’t get you anywhere. Now I had a chance to see who he really was. Surprisingly we dived straight back into a conversation, there were no pauses or awkward small talk, it was quite refreshing. My mind didn’t wander at all to Halfdan, and not because I suddenly thought this man was better, but because...because I was distracted.

That made me feel awful for thinking that but I was. Of course I wasn’t going to fall for this man just because he showed interest in me (and because I was trying to forget about someone else), though it was nice to have the attention on me for once. It never happened. I wasn’t one of those beautiful maidens that drew the eyes of every man she waltzed by, men didn’t ask me to dance at feasts until they were stupidly drunk, I never experienced that look a man gave a woman when he was interested, even if it only was for one thing. I never understood why either.

I learnt the man’s name, Birger, and he insisted on walking me home, despite the market still heaving with customers. Our talk continued, it made the time pass so quickly that I was saddened when my house was already in view. He sweetly bid me farewell, and I admittedly felt my stomach flip as he smiled before walking away. Our visits continued with one another over the next few days, Gertrude wanting details about every word said. We thankfully strayed away from the market, talking walks away from the crowds and town, and one day he asked for me to join him in a hunt.

“I was apprehensive when you agreed to this.” Birger said as I approached him and our two horses, weapons attached to my body.

“And why is that?” I asked, not yet mounting my horse.

“I assumed you could protect yourself, though I seem to have doubted your experience.” he gestured to the weapons.“You have hunted before, I presume?”

I smiled.“Yes, I just haven’t had the chance to fight anyone. Not that I’m looking for trouble.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that.”

“No?”

“Because I’ll get rid of the trouble before it can even look at you.”

There it was again, that charming and heroic response. I let out a surprised gasp as he effortlessly lifted me onto my horse, a smirk on his face as he got on his own. I followed him, clouded by my thoughts.I did like Birger, but I felt guilty. I felt that I was using his company to keep my mind from Halfdan, I wanted to lie to myself and blame my confusion on nerves. However I knew that Birger was here to fill the void. I had a wild idea in my head that Halfdan would come after me. The Gods were all probably laughing at me right now.

We had journeyed into the nearby forest where everyone got food supplies. We were lucky that it was heaving with wildlife, enough for everyone. After dismounting our horses, we strayed from the travelling path, Birger was hoping to find a deer. Staying low and incredibly quiet, we didn’t have to wait as long as we thought we would, spotting a doe further ahead. With grins on our faces, we ducked down, I was already getting an arrow prepared.

“Take the shot, I want you to do it.” Birger whispered.

I nodded, slowly pulling back the string of the bow, though I almost let go in fright as Birger wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, his face was now pressed against mine, hands covering my own, his body flushed against my back.

“A perfect shot.” he breathed into my ear, and if I wasn’t concentrating so much I would have let a shiver run through me.

A second passed before I let go of the string, the arrow whizzing through the air and hitting the doe. It cried out before collapsing, I had given her a swift death. Birger and I laughed in victory, I stood to retrieve our prize until I was pulled back down. I fell onto my backside, but I had no time to comprehend what was happening because Birger was leaning over me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. But, (Y/N), you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, I am a lucky man to have been graced with your presence, it was fate us meeting at the harbour. I...I wanted to be alone with you properly.”

I could not deny the hot feeling I was feeling below, I had not slept with someone for some time. There it was again, that sudden realisation of using him. But men did this to women, was it such a crime that I do the same for some pleasure? As long as the pleasure was worth it at least, and not some swift, sweaty experience.

I accepted what might come, closing my eyes and waiting for the feeling of his lips to press against mine, his hands were already gripping at my waist. Instead, there was a harsh tug that threw Birger’s body off of my own. I yelped out in confusion as I spotted another man wrestling with him. Springing to my feet, I leapt onto the bastard that was attacking us, only realising it was Halfdan as I bested him.

“Halfdan?” I exclaimed.

“Get yourself away (Y/N)! I can handle him.” he ordered as he stood, setting me on my feet in the process.

“Handle him?”

His head whipped round to look at me.“He was attacking you.”

“We were about to fuck.”

“What?”

Birger was grunting.“What do you think you’re doing?! Just because your brother claims to be a king does not mean you have the right to do what you want!”

“I’ve figured out what you’re doing. I know you are using this woman for your own benefit.”

“Even if I was, what does that have to do with you?”

“You were going to rape her?”

“What?!” Birger and I gasped at the same time.

“Halfdan,” I needed to have a calmer tone,“I wasn’t against it.”

“You weren’t in danger?”

“No, I was about to have sex for the first time in forever.”

“But, he looked like-”

“You are a crazy man.” Birger snapped.

“Birger.” I warned.“Not right now.”

“You are on his side?”

“No, I just think we all need to take a step back and talk about this.”

“What? Talk about how you were about to get fucked? And just that?”

“What?”

“You talk as if I am some animal. It’s almost as if you’re siding with him.”

“Birger, you sound crazy.”

“The moment has passed.” he collected his things.“I am leaving. The moment has passed.”

“Birger, wait.”

“Was anything meaningful to you? Or were you just using me?”

“I wasn’t using you! I...I was-”

“Alright, I’ll let you have her. Seems like she’ll let anybody ‘use’ her.”

Halfdan’s nostrils flared, his lips in a tight line and brow furrowed as he stormed over to Birger, sending a punch to his face without warning. Birger stumbled backwards, clutching his nose. He took a second to steady himself, glaring at Halfdan as if he were about to attack back, only he didn’t, storming away in the other direction.

Halfdan cleared his throat.“(Y/N), I-”

“What did you think you would achieve from this?”

“I thought he was about to rape you, I thought he had lured you out here, he had confused you-”

“And I am easily confused?” I didn’t know where this confidence came from.

“No! You women, you are so sensitive.”

I only had to open my mouth in shock for him to start panicking.

“I’m sorry. For that comment and for what I have done.” he huffed.“I shall take my leave.”

“Halfdan.” I called out, making him halt.“How did you know we were here? Did you follow us?”

“I...I just happened to be here.”

“Really?”

“Fine. If you wish to know so badly, I have been following you. And not just today I embarrassingly admit.”

“What do you mean?”

“For some reason, I never trust men around you. I have this...protectiveness over you. And I understand that is strange to say, seeing as we have only spoken a few times, but, you have this hold on me. The first time we spoke to one another, I lost all my ability to seduce a woman. I could have had you that night if I wanted, and I did want you, but somehow you overpowered me by just smiling.”

I was not expecting that confession. This was the most I had heard him speak, ever.“I really don’t know what to say to that.”

“Forget it. This day could not get more mortifying.”

“Wait, Halfdan, you can’t just leave it at that. Not when I feel the same.”

“You do?”

“Have you not seen my lingering stares? I always have to catch myself to make sure I do not scare you away. I always thought you a cold, silent man that only had interest in...well, I was about to say whores but I suppose I seem like one today.”

“You really had no feelings for that man?”

I shook my head.“No. I thought I did, but I think I was trying to convince myself as to not feel guilty. But I cannot let this go lightly Halfdan. I thank you for your bravery and looking out for me, though I fear we have tarnished Birger’s pride.”

“I could give two shits about what that man thinks.”

I smiled.“That is understandable.”

“Should I be sorry?”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

I picked up my bow and arrow, heading back to the horses.“I guess so. But it will take more than words.”

“What will it take?”

“You said so yourself, you have a way with women, surprise me.”

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sammyjadedavis · 2 years

Text

Bjorn:

You sure your pregnant like sure sure?

Torvi:

Well I’m pretty sure that the five pregnancy test say so, so yer I’m pregnant…

Bjorn:

Well fuck T your brothers are gonna kill me…

Halfdan:

And why am I killing you?

Torvi:

No reason…

#vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #torvi x bjorn #bjorn x torvi #torvi #bjorn #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #halfdan the black #halfdan

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author-morgan · 3 years

Note

let’s get some dummy hot sex with halfdan now? 🥺🥵

ask, dear nonny, and ye shall receive. behold a little smut with Halfdan where he has to make some amends ;) did i go overboard? absolutely. Halfdan x fem!Reader

IT IS NOT the first time you’ve woken to a cold and empty bed of late, and though you wish for it to be the last, you know it won’t be. You’ve known Halfdan the Black long enough to know it’s best to let him be when he’s this aloof, but the distance between you has grown too large to bear —too large to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you carry about your morning duties and chores around Tamdrup before seeking out Harald. He’s training with his vanguard, and against better judgment, you hope Halfdan will be there too, but Harald claims to have not seen his brother since the prior evening.

The trek up to the promontory overlooking Tamdrup is winding and steep at times, but you press on through the frigid wind, almost certain you’ll find Halfdan. It’s a place he and Harald know well, having used it to escape the trouble they caused as boys. You’ve scarcely made the ascent, but the few times have been on clear nights when the blue-green northern lights dance overhead, and each time has left lasting memories that make your heart flutter and stomach twist.

Cresting the promontory, you see him sitting at the edge —wrapped in his tan-grey fur-trimmed cloak. “There you are,” you call, catching your breath as your draw nearer, “I’ve been looking for you.

He shifts, looking over his shoulder as you approach. There’s a faint smile on his lips, even if it doesn’t reach his dark eyes. “You’ve found me,” Halfdan says, turning his distant gaze back to the fjord and Tamdrup below. You sit next to him, your shoulder just brushing his —he does not push you away, but he does not embrace you either.

There’s a moment of uneasy silence, both you and Halfdan staring down through the low hanging clouds and mist at the dark water and longships. Soon those same ships would be prepared to sail once again —to answer a summons from Björn Ironside, the young and ambitious son of Ragnar Lothbrok. You glimpse Halfdan from the corner of your eyes. It makes your heart hurt to see him so troubled like there’s a war raging inside him. He flinches when your fingers first brush against his cheek, as though he already forgot you were next to him.

You cup his cheek as you draw his dark and troubled gaze to you, not letting him look away. “What is bothering you, my love?” You ask —thumb stroking over the scrollwork of blue-black ink on his cheek up to his brow. “Ever since Paris, you’ve become colder.” You hadn’t gone to Francia with the brothers; instead, Harald charged you with keeping the affairs of Tamdrup and the Vestfold in line. Then they returned, with Halfdan clinging to life over a festered wound from a crossbow bolt. In the weeks after his recovery, something had shifted —between him and you and his brother. Halfdan’s eyes flit over your face, his lips parting as if to speak, but he doesn’t know what to say. “Tell me,” you breathe, a soft plead for him to be honest with you, “so I may help carry your burdens.”

He heaves a long sigh, feeling guilt take hold of his heart for having pushed you away for so long. “The more I think,” Halfdan starts, leaning into your palm, “the more I wish to explore new lands.” His lips kink upward, half-hidden by the scraggly tuft of wiry blond hair on his upper lip and chin. It’s the first he’s mentioned the desire to travel outside of summer raids. Rough fingers curl around yours, gently pulling your hand from his cheek, but he doesn’t let you go —twinning his fingers with yours. “Travel to the ends of the known world.”

Then his distance and despondency make sense, or at least you think it does. “But you do not wish Harald to think you’ve abandoned him.” Halfdan nods. Harald is his brother. They’ve fought countless battles together. Conquered lesser kingdoms and forced jarls into submission. For as long as he can remember, he’s stood by Harald’s side, hellbent on seeing his brother’s dreams of being crowned King of all Norway a reality.

It’s only recently Halfdan has begun to think about what he wants in this life. He wants you, a crew of loyal men, a sturdy longship, and kind seas to take him to lands farther south than even Paris. “His dream is not mine,” Halfdan concedes, lowering his dark eyes, “never has been, but I’ve always supported him.”

“The gods will tell you which path to take when the time comes,” you assure him, smiling. “They favor you and your brother.” Halfdan leans close, his lips just brushing against yours —a soft, quick kiss as though to say thank you. Upon parting, he drapes an arm and his cloak over your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You lean into him, feeling at peace once more in his arms.

The clouds lift moments later, the sun shining upon Tamdrup and the water. The afternoon is just beginning by your reckoning, and you still have a list of chores to complete before the evening to help prepare for the feast. “Will you walk back with me?” You ask, glancing up at Halfdan, and he nods, feeling a weight is lifted from his chest.

WINDING YOUR WAY through the guests and envoys, you find the empty spot next to Halfdan, alas. He’s already two cups of mead into the night, having watched you pace around greeting people —one of the more tedious aspects of being Harald’s closest advisor and informant is during these feasts where hospitality and decorum are expected. You smile for him, nudging his side lightly before reaching for his cup, taking a long sup of the honey-sweet mead. Across the hall, Harald lifts his cup, tilting it in your direction —when he is King of Norway, he’d have you and his brother to thank for helping lay a crown at his feet.

Halfdan’s hand finds the curve of your lower back, his thumb rubbing small arcs through your gown. A mindless and innocent enough action that still manages to send a hot flush to your cheeks and gather warmth in the pit of your stomach. “Is that a new dress?” He asks, a poor excuse for having been caught staring at your exposed shoulders and the glimpse of cleavage he can see from this angle.

Luckily for him, it is. The pale blue gown is only a few shades lighter than his own tunic. You’ve put hours into weaving the soft blend of wool and linen and what seems like even longer to adorn the neckline with leather strips and beads of stone and shell. It may have taken you weeks to make the dress, but the glint in Halfdan’s eyes tells you he could ruin it much quicker. “Do you like it?” You ask. He hums his answer, arms wrap around your middle, dragging you against his side, then finally across his lap. “Halfdan!” You exclaim, laughing as you balance yourself with the edge of the table.

The slight smile on his lips fades, and the mirth in his eyes slips away with a blink —his dark gaze holding you captive. “I fear I’ve neglected you of late,” Halfdan admits, stroking over your flushed cheeks with the back of his fingers. He brushes back your hair —half loose and half bound in braids— and leans in, so his warm breath tickles your shoulder, then your neck.

“Allow me to make amends?” He proposes, a whisper against your lips. The smile on your lips is answer enough, but then you lay your hand on his neck, thumb tracing over the raised silver scar there before dipping your head down. A small, surprised moan rings out from the back of his throat, but then he leans into you, grip tightening on your waist as he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat.

"I’d like that,” you answer, leaning your head on his shoulder, “but it’s too early for us to leave your brother alone with this lot.” He laughs, and you feel the deep rumble in his stomach against your side as he agrees. You both know Harald well enough by now to know it doesn’t take much for his diplomacy to deconvolve to violence.

Friends come and go. Even Harald joins you and his brother for a short moment to praise the work you’d done for the evening. All the while, Halfdan insists on keeping a hand on your back and one on your thigh, his lips often teasing your neck —a promise. Soon the budding heat and tension between the two of you is too much to bear any longer. Feigning lightheadedness from the warmth of the longhouse and the strong mead, you excuse yourself from the feast with Halfdan trailing behind you and Harald knowing the true reason behind both your sudden departures.

He kicks the door to his chambers shut, hands never straying from your waist and lips never parting from yours. You cling to him, pushing a hand through his hair, holding him close with a hand at the nape of his neck. Then his hands slide up your sides, around to your back, and you know what it is he’s thinking.

“No,” you chide, slapping away his hands with a stern glance. You know what he meant to do —tear the dress from your shoulders in his haste to get his hands on your bare skin. “I spent too much time on this for you to mess it up,” you tell him. Halfdan rolls his eyes but complies when you turn your back to him, working loose the line of black laces trailing up your spine —growing increasingly impatient by the second.

Calloused hands slid across the smooth expanse of your back, up to your shoulders, sliding the gown off your arms and down past your hips until it cascades to the plank floors, forming a pool of fabric around your ankles. Halfdan’s arms snake around your front, his hands sliding across your stomach and up to palm your breasts —tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefingers. He kisses the crook of your neck, where your pulse is racing, and glances down at the blue dress. “Looks better on the ground,” he teases.

You twist in his arms, smiling up at him —and he’s never felt more a fool for making you feel like you’d grown apart. Settling your hands on his waist, you reach for the hem of his wool tunic, but Halfdan pushes your hands away and hushes your whines of protest with a kiss. “Making amends, remember?” He lays you back onto his bed, crawling over you —still clothed save for his discarded boots. The kiss he places upon your lips is over too soon, but then his mouth moves down, kissing and nipping at your neck, stopping to suckle your breasts before moving lower still, pausing to press a lingering kiss at your navel and tickle your skin with his beard.

Halfdan slides off the bed, dropping low to his knees —both his hands curling around your thighs, drawing you to the edge, spreading your legs wide for him. His kisses and discrete caresses throughout the feast have done their job —the folds of your cunt are wet and glistening by the hearth’s light.

Roast boar be damned, he thinks, this is my favorite feast. He lays a handful of tender kisses on the insides of your thighs and watches the chills disperse over your flesh at the scrape and tickle of his beard. Easing your legs over his shoulders, he breathes in the sweet scent of your cunt and lets his warm breath fan out over you. You jolt upward when he licks a slow, broad stripe over your, stopping to swirl his tongue around your clit. He repeats the action, then looks up at you with wild, dark eyes.

Writhing in his hold, your back arches from the bed, hands twisting into the patchwork of wolf and fox pelts beneath you. You sigh and whimper, almost singing his name to the gods as a sweet prayer as his head dips forward again, laving your cunt with licks, tongue flicking out against your clit. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you spread open for him.

As with everything Halfdan does in life, he feasts upon you with fervent enthusiasm, taking pride in how quickly he can have you falling apart at the seams. You feel him smile against you before his tongue slips into you, and then he moans —loudly and from deep in his throat like he’s the one being pleasured, and it reverberates through your entire body.

A moment later and your hands are tangled in his stringy blond hair, the strands flopping messily over his whole head. He groans when you tug on his locks, a silent urging for him to continue, to give you more. “Halfdan,” you whine, craning your neck to look down at him —content between your thighs like a parched man finding a desert oasis. You barely notice one of his hands disappear from your thigh until his fingers are brushing through your slick folds as his tongue labors over your clit —hard-and-fast flicks against the sensitive nub, hot breath fanning against your in quick, lustful pants— determined to have you come undone by his mouth and fingers.

He crooks a finger, then adds another, searching for the spot he knows drives you into oblivion. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and then the wave washes over you —a rogue wave in a storm— the tension built up over weeks of not having him as you should. He thrusts his fingers back into you, thrice over, coaxing you down from the high with soft kisses and nips to the inside of your thighs. Halfdan eases your legs off his shoulders then leans over you, lips finding yours.

His kiss is harsh and demanding and somehow loving at the same time. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue —mixed with the honey mead. “Clothes off,” you rasp, breaking the kiss and cursing how desperate you sound as you tug at him, trying to bring him closer and strip him of his clothes at the same time.

Halfdan laughs as he pulls himself from your embrace, lips kinked into a smile. He pulls his blue tunic overhead and quickly unties his britches, shoving them down his legs. You have a brief moment to admire him —the planes of his chest, the lithe muscle of his arms and abdomen, even his hard cock straining proudly toward you nestled in a coarse thatch of hair the same color as that on his head.

Climbing onto the bed, he maneuvers you both to the center, gripping your ankles and playfully tugging you back to him. He hovers over you on his hands and knees; one hand splayed beside your head, the other moving to grasp your chin with two fingers —a light and gentle hold nigh unbecoming of someone with his reputation for cruelty.

Halfdan locks eyes with you, and it makes your stomach seize and flip. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been with him a hundred times over when he looks upon you as though you are Freyja incarnate, you cannot help but fall further in love. To him, you’re perfect, and you deserved to be treated as such. You lift your hand to his cheek, fingertips barely brushing over his tattoo. “Take me,” you breathe, assurance and permission.

He swoops down, sweeping you into another kiss, his thumb on your chin rubbing sweet circles, tongue parting your lips. You trail your bent legs along his sides, breaking him from a trance with your ankles locking at his lower back, pressing his hard cock into your center. Halfdan reaches between you, lazily stroking his cock before easing into you, letting you feel the slow stretch and drag as he inches his way into you. “Fuck,” he half-chokes and half-groans when your hips meet —leaning down on his elbows and trapping you in his warmth —chest pressing into yours.

You dig your nails into the muscles of his back —hearing your name on his lips like a needy prayer. At first, you rock against each other, movements restrained until he pulls back his hips and begins to move in earnest. It starts as a slow, deliberate grind but hearing your pleas for more and soft whimpers spurs him on. “So,” he pants into your neck, “good.”

Halfdan rests his forehead on your breasts, his hands creating a vise grip on your hips as he pounds into you, harder, harsher, faster. Grunts spewing from his open mouth each time his cock settles back inside you. He’s close —chasing his release— you can tell by his sloppy rhythm and staccato thrusts, but he needs you to fall with him. His lips leave short kisses on your breastbone, one of his hands moving from your hip to press on your clit, rubbing frantic circles and sending a flood of sparks through your veins.

And then, just as you feel yourself coming to the edge of the precipice, Halfdan dares to raise his head from your chest —his dark eyes burning into you, beckoning you to let go. He strikes a place deep within you, pushing you over. Your body tenses, toes curling, heels pressing hard into his back, and your walls flutter, clamping down around his cock as he presses through the tightness.

Halfdan’s hips stutter; a rough groan ripped from his throat as he presses deep inside you —cock twitching with his release. He mutters a string of curses below his breath, holding himself up on shaking arms. Then, just to see you quiver, he gives several more slow, lazy thrusts —feeling his seed slip from your cunt each time.

Breathing heavily, he settles back down, head resting on your chest, hands trailing up and down your sides as you rest one hand on his back, the other brushing through the strands of hair hanging over half his face. Halfdan pecks small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that are a paradox to how he just fucked you. It makes you smile.

His body is slick with sweat where he presses against you, his mouth going to the crook of your neck as you grip onto his shoulders, desperate to hold on to him, and this moment. “You’re too good to me,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice deep, thick with love and fading lust.

You smooth over the furrow in his brow with your fingertips —following the curves of the dark tattoo there— a smile on your lips. “Maybe,” you tease, and his warm brown eyes twinkle in the low light. “But you’re the only one for me,” you tell him, feeling his lips twitch into a smile as he turns his face back into your breast. The two of you stay like that for several long moments until he shifts, pulling his softening cock from you with a hiss echoed by your soft whines at the empty feeling left between your thighs.

He clambers off the bed, disappearing behind a reed partition for a quick second before returning with a damp rag, offering it to you to clean the mess he made of your cunt. You nod your thanks, and he moves around the room, picking up your discarded clothing and depositing it onto the trunk at the foot of the bed before rejoining you, this time beneath the wool blanket and fur quilt.

Halfdan pulls you into his side, and you lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He sighs, fingers running up and down your spine, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your forehead. “Rest,” he breathes, “I’ll be here when you wake.” You smile, settling against him, knowing when the morning sun rises, you’ll still be safe and warm in the arms of the man you love.

[ taglist: @elizabethroestone @naaladareia @charming-merlin ] if you want to be added to my Vikings taglist, just let me know!

#Halfdan #Halfdan the Black #Halfdan x Reader #Halfdan the Black x Reader #Halfdan Imagine #Halfdan Fanfiction #Vikings Imagine #Vikings Fanfiction #my writing #requested #anonymous

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psychosncottagecore · 9 months

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Masterlist (Remastered)

For some reason Tumblr won't let me update my old masterlist, so here's a new one!

Ok so, this account is dedicated to fanfictions and this - my first post, will be both an intro and a temporary masterlist! I do take requests for the following. All fanfics unless explicitly stated otherwise are x female reader

I do write smut (probably badly) and if you venture into my blog then on your head be it!

I do write for SPN - I will NEVER write any form of incest (for any fandom) whether they’re bio or adopted siblings - that’s just nasty siblings are siblings

Please feel free to make requests in my inbox! Doesn’t have to be for these guys! Go wild with any character you want

I will write for a character based off of a song!

Reign:

Sebastian Du Poitiers

The Falls

Mary Queen of Scots

(More to come?)

The 100

Lexa

Bellamy

Clarke

TVD/TO

Malachi (Kai) Parker

Elijah Mikaelson

Klaus Mikaelson

Bonnie Bennette

Rebekah Mikaelson

Marcel Gerard

Vikings

Ivar ‘The Boneless’ Ragnanrsson

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Halfdan ‘The Black’

Ubba Ragnarsson

Lagertha

Supernatural

Jack Kline

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Gabriel

American Horror Story

Michael Langdon

(I will not be writing James March, Richard Ramirez or Charles Montgomary or any others based off of real killers (to the best of my knowledge) my morals might be loose - but they’re not that loose!)

(More to come)

Miscellaneous fics:

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woahhhgwendolyn · 1 year

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Falling Asleep On Halfdan Would Include...

-Him trying not to be phased too much when he feels your head go onto his shoulder and would feel his heard race a bit by your simple action.

-He will look around to see what others may think about what was happening but ends up being confident and will pull you into his lap and keep his arms around you.

-Him rubbing your arm and your sides to comfort you and actually gets surprised on how soft your skin is when he is touching you.

-Him always keeping you close to him and having you in his lap while also keeping company to others.

-Him getting kind of worried every time he feels you flinch in your sleep and ends up comforting you each time and tells you that he is there to make sure that you feel safe.

-He will get quiet every time he heard you mumble in your sleep and tries to listen to what you are saying. He ends up laughing when he hears some of the things you are saying in your sleep.

-Him giving death stares to anyone making fun of him or you for sleeping that way.

-Him getting kind of quiet once you wake up and asked what happened and if you had gone to sleep. His brother ends up making fun of him because he thinks that Halfdan has gone soft for you.

#norway #scandanavia #viking #vikings #imagines #halfdan #halfdan the black #halfdan imagine #halfdan x reader #halfdan the black imagine #halfdan imagines #nordic #vikings x you #vikings halfdan #vikings imagines #vikings fandom #vikings headcanon #vikings fanfiction

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queenfinehair · 1 year

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The Bartender Pt. ||

Pairing: Modern!Halfdan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex. Unprotected sex, oral on fem!Reader. MINORS DNI. Just go away if under 18, thanks

Disclaimer: Moodboard made by me with photos found on Pinterest. I claim 0 ownership for them.

The record player sat on a small table with records neatly stacked next to it. A few bottles of already opened liquor rest next to the records and Halfdan reaches for one, half filled with an amber brown liquid and two glasses. He takes his time in filling them as you take a seat on the couch.

It was made in a cheap leather but at least this piece of furniture was well kept with no holes or tears. A glass oval coffee table sits in front of you and you take notice of the bed just off the way of the kitchen. A supreme bachelor studio pad, you note, but clean and you appreciate this.

Before he turns back to you, Halfdan takes an older looking record and puts it onto the player, the needle going down and after a moment; you note the music. Older, a little rock 'n roll and a little classic all at once. The song is happier than what you had danced to and you smile, relaxing.

"I thought we'd switch to a nice single barrel bourbon instead of tequila." He chuckles and hands you the glass, your fingers grazing his as you accept the drink with a nod. He knew his drinks and despite the state of the bar, you could acknowledge, well, his knowledge of things you simply didn't care about.

Small sips are taken as you lean back into the couch, crossing your legs in front of you as Halfdan lets his legs spread with relaxation. One of his hands rest behind his head and with the other he holds the glass steadily.

Watching him from the corner of your eye you take in Halfdan's slim frame, long legs and tight shirt. A stirring in your stomach travels down to your abdomen, a tingling sensation begins in your most intimate parts and you clear your throat to shake it off. Being here now was exactly what you wanted but nerves still made you unsteady.

"Plenty more where this came from," Halfdan sighs as his eyes close, taking a generous sip. "Responsible Lee makes the best bourbon."

You smile at his easiness and knowledge of the liquor and note the caramel taste of the beverage. You continue to watch as Halfdan moves his free hand to straighten out his beard slowly, a sudden, subtle sexiness that makes you squirm in your spot.

He's so sure of himself but lacks the cocky attitude you're so used to. He finally sighs and opens his eyes, turning his head to meet your stare.

"What?" He whispers with a slow grin and leans towards you, "I won't bite..." the sentence hangs in the air with innuendo and you gulp with anticipation.

"Halfdan..." you lean forward, place your glass gently on the table and face him again, "I want you... To make me feel good, for me to make you feel good. I want you, all of you. Now."

He mimicks your glass setting and takes your face into his hands, apologizing softly when he squeezes too hard on the right side. Halfdan's lips whisper over your own before you groan and close your eyes. His teeth nip at your bottom lip in a tease before you take his head into your hands, closing any gap that was there before in a kiss.

Halfdan immediately takes his hands away from your face and grabs your hips, pulling you onto his lap as his fingers trace blank patterns onto your back over your shirt. Your hips roll into his groin, feeling his jeans begin to tighten around his growing erection. His inhale is sharp against your co tinied grinding and he deepens the kiss further, tongue meeting yours in frenzied haste.

The friction and stiffness from Halfdan's jeans causes a small moan to come from your lips and your head drops from the kiss, breathing in a shaking breath. Meanwhile, Halfdan moves his hands under your shirt, calloused fingertips running up and down your back.

You can feel his nose nuzzle at the side of your head, "You wanna feel good? Let me show you what good is." Halfdan grips the bottom of your ass, leans up and scoots forward on the couch. He grunts with the strain of standing up while holding you, your legs wrapping around his waist as you lean down to bite and suck on the tender skin of his neck.

Cursing your name under his breath, Halfdan slowly moves towards the queen sized bed. The sheets are a deep blue and a simple beige comforter adorns the top. It's not neatly made but for the damage you plan on doing it really doesn't matter.

Using only one hand now, Halfdan lowers your body to the bed, standing up slowly after to look you over up and down with animalistic intentions. He kneels down before you on the floor and grabs your legs, sliding your lower hand towards his face.

You begin to undo the button and zipper on your own jeans but instantly feel Halfdan slapping your hands away with a frown on his face. "No, sweetheart, let me."

Your head falls to the bed at the instruction and lift your hips up as the materiel is slid away and off of your legs, Halfdan letting out an almost inaudible groan at the sight of your skin. Your pants are thrown to the side quickly before he tickles his fingers up your thighs causing a heavy breath to escape you.

"Please..." you whimper and sit up for a moment just to take and throw your shirt off.

Underwear come off next and as you relax on the bed you spread your legs slowly, shyly. Beard is the first thing you feel as Halfdan nuzzles your inner thigh, his head traveling further up your legs with small, short kisses placed on your skin.

Halfdan takes his time with teasing you. A nip here and there to extract a back arch and moan, silently pleading with a roll of your hips to meet his touch more. You're almost to the point of begging for his tongue before you let out a loud, animalistic moan.

His tongue finds your swollen clit just in time as Halfdan wraps his hands around your legs, moving each one up to his shoulders as he gets comfortable to eat your dripping pussy.

Your eyes close and fingers grip the comforter, toes spreading in pleasure as you arch your back and plead for him to continue exploring you and he does just that.

His tongue circles your clit a few times before he moves to your inner lips, slowly going down further until you can feel his tongue actually enter you, going in and out as he tastes you fully. It's a brilliant sensation that sends a tingle down your spine as you move your head to look down and meet his brown eyes.

He watches you watch him as he eats you out and you're sure you can see a small smirk on his face. He groans and moans softly as he watches you lay your head back down on the bed, sucking your clit gently.

"Fuck me... now, Halfdan. Fill me." You beg now without abandon. You need this strange bartender in the most physical and intimate sense.

Halfdan immediately stands up and you watch him undress quickly, sensing his desperation to be inside of you as well. Shirt off and it reveals a slim and pale stomach. Pants off and you see the erection fighting his boxer-briefs. Your hand goes down to rub your swollen and aching clit, watching him undress completely until Halfdan is on top of you, looking you straight in the eyes.

"Tell me again... how you need me." He whispers, the scent of you all over his beard and mouth and you roll your hips up once more to his leaking dick.

"Halfdan," you mewl, "I need you. To fuck me right now, so bad baby. So bad."

Immediately he thrusts inside of you, pain at first but pleasure overtakes the stretching around him. His head falls to your collarbone and Halfdan moans.

"Holy shit.... God you're warm. Such a good girl." He growls and bites the skin on your neck, beginning to fuck you roughly without a certain pace.

You have to smile at the comical nickname and decide to scratch your nails up his smooth back and your name is emitted from his mouth followed by a series of "Fuck"s. His hand holds your hip while the other rests above your head as Halfdan looks up and into your eyes.

"Say my name... Please." He whimpers and the sudden vulnerability from this man makes you breathe in deeply.

Your ex only fucked you as a piece of meat, a toy to which his own dick could use and toss away once he came.

Halfdan, though, Halfdan wanted you and you could feel it. You wrap your legs around his ass and drive him balls deep into your pussy, holding him there for a second before he swivels his hips to hit the most precious spot inside of you.

"Halfdan!" The word he wanted and your legs slam down to the bed, head thrown back as he drives into you deep again and again.

"Wanted you all night long," he confesses between grunts, "so fucking pretty. So wet. I want you to cum for me."

You lick your lips in a frenzy before gripping your nails into the skin on Halfdan's back, sighing out a huffing moan. You can feel you're close, you'd never felt like this before with him... the ex.

Walls clenching, sweating from both of you and Halfdan swearing your name like Christ's, you feel a tightening in your pussy, hands gripping his back with the life of you. "Halfdan.... I can't, I'm gonna-"

"Good girl. Pretty woman, cum for me. All over me."

His silly pet names drive you crazy and you do. You cum with intensity all around his penetrating dick, clit swollen with pleasure as your fingers rub over it to ride out your high.

But what about him?

"Halfdan... fill me up. Cum inside me, now." And your teeth find his neck again, biting and sucking to leave a pretty purple mark. You wouldn't be opposed to swallowing his load but tonight you want to feel every last drop this man can do to you.

"Oh, fuck.... gonna cum.... right into your sweet pussy." Halfdans voice is raspy with fuck and you can feel him cum inside you. With a final thrust he buries himself balls deep into your pussy, letting his cum fill you up and leak out around his dick.

He stays there for a moment, pumping in and out in shallow, feverish thrusts. Your name spills from his lips before he pulls out and rolls off of you, settling beside you.

Panting breaths are all that fill the empty space above your heads and Halfdan struggles with the comforter. He rips it out from under your body, throws the blanket over both of you and nestles in beside you.

"Stay or leave. It's up to you, but, I want you to know that I'd love to see you again. And again. And again." He laughs and kisses you gently.

The last thing you hear before drifting off into the safety of sleep is Halfdan snoring quietly into your ear, his arm slung across your side.

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Tags: @naaladareia, @majesticwren, @naps4bats (just so it doesn't get lost in the threads lol)

#vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #halfdan the black #halfdan fanfic #halfdan the black x reader #halfdan fic #halfdan x reader #halfdan the black fic #halfdan the black x fem!reader #smut #my writing #mine #i need to write more smut #am i happy with this?#semi happy #likes and reblogs welcome

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ryuzakemo128 · 3 months

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Food for the heart and soul - Vikings Drabble

Genre: Fluff/ Angst

Pairing: Halfdan the Black x Freyja Raengyreon [Female Reader]

Content Warning: Possible themes of angst, heart melting fluff and mention of death.

Freyja's cooking was as chaotic as it was beautiful to watch. She insisted that she did it because it was a way of expressing her creativity and individuality. She also said that her father had taught her the importance of knowing what you put into your body, and that cooking was a way of ensuring that she took care of herself and her loved ones. And to make treats that tasted like home.

Halfdan watched her as she moved around the kitchen, humming to herself as she cooked and the reason she had him get the brie cheese became rather clear to him. Although at the time it was rather amusing, now he was quite curious as to why she was so interested in it. He'd never been one to really think much of food beyond the fact that it filled him up and gave him the energy to keep moving. But then again, he'd never been around anyone like Freyja before.

"Food is meant to taste good, give you more than just energy and enough to keep you alive," Freyja said, "I have a contact that gives me a small wheel every week, along with two other types of cheese along with it, just to try. He's a very loyal friend." She paused, giving Halfdan a sidelong glance before she added, "You should try it sometime. It's not just about the taste, but about the experience of enjoying it. You can really appreciate the difference."

He replied, "I'm not sure if I understand. You're saying that food can be more than just something we eat to survive?" She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But why?" he asked, genuinely confused. "It's not like it's going to change anything about who we are or what we do."

"It will make it far more worthwhile, enjoyable and at the very least pleasant." Freyja answered with a small smile. "I went to Frankia, I had all sorts of things there, but Brie cheese stood out to me the most during my time there, my father also taught me it was important to know how to stay healthy and still eat well, just because we're Vikings, doesn't mean we can't enjoy what we eat."

From that day forward, she wanted to cook for him more often. He was never one to turn down her food, and after tasting the Brie cheese, he found himself enjoying it more than he thought he would. He began to see the world through her eyes, appreciating the little things in life that made it worth living.

At the end of each night, she would say, 'I love you and get back safely,' Despite never living together as a normal couple, they had become quite close. Halfdan found himself looking forward to the times he spent with her, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a real home with her, filled with her cooking and the warmth of her presence.

Perhaps one they would or at least they would have in another life, had he not died that day. Had he not died on that battlefield. He would be with her one way or another. Even if it wasn't going to be then. It most certainly would in another lifetime.

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