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fandomnsfw · 1 year

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I Can Be Your Biggest Fan - Ivar the Boneless x Reader

(Ignore that unfaithful little witch who deserved the death she got! But his face is just so cute right here...At least the gods approve of sexual desires) 😂🤣

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Promt: My obsession with Ivar and his poor underloved self. Poor baby just need love and someone who could actually get his dick hard 🥺

You are a slave and have been most of your life but because of this you got the chance to meet the most handsome man you’d ever seen...cripple or not.

Warning: SMUT! Dirty Ivar loving smut! Foul language because I swear more than a sailor.

ENJOY!!!

********

“Her.” You felt your body freeze as the queen stopped in front of you. You had no idea how this queen would be with you but once she had picked you had to follow her either way. You kept quiet as you looked around the village. They hadn’t told you what your work would be but you hopes it wasn’t sex. You’d managed to save yourself so far.

The queen took her place on the throne before assessing you thoroughly. She smiled softly at you and for some reason you felt a sense of peace. Hopefully she was a fair mistress.

“What is your name girl?” She asked curiously her face keeping its smile.

“My name is Y/N, my Queen.” You spoke clearly if there was something you had learnt over the years is that people with respect you more if you speak confidently even if you’re a slave.

“You will be my personal help. You will serve my family dinner, help me bathe, help with grandchildren once I have some.” She informed confidently her wise smile still on her face.

“It would be my honour my Queen.” You gave her a grin letting her know you were more than happy with the job choice.

“Okay, well the cook has food ready so if you could get everything ready that would be good.” She chuckled before shooing you away to set the table.

You were fast getting it done so the queen gave you a happy grin as she sat at the table and waited for her sons. Eventually 3 boys walked into the hall, laughing at something. You stood next to the queen with your hands behind your back.

Then he came in. The most beautiful man you’d ever seen dragging himself around on his hands. That must’ve taken a lot of muscle to do that everyday. Yet he looked like he could take on his brothers with ease.

“This is Ubbe my first born.” The queen pointed to her elder son. He was handsome he had similar eyes to his cripple brother but for some reason they weren’t as captivating.

“This is Hvitserk my second son.” She pointed to the son next to Ubbe and he gave you a cheeky grin.

“That is my third son Sigurd.” She pointed to the opposite side of the table at the strawberry blonde man who looked you up and down with a smirk and it made your stomach churn.

“And my youngest son Ivar.” She cupped her youngest face with affection before looking up to you. He looked up at you with a curious gaze but didn’t say anything.

“This is Y/N my new slave. You are not to touch her without her permission.” The queen glared at all her sons except Ivar.

“You know maybe you should worry about Ivar not us.” Sigurd snickered as Ivar shot him a glare.

“The only one who made me feel uncomfortable with their eyes was you master Sigurd.” You mumbled your anger surfacing. Why did you say that? You should’ve kept your mouth closed but before you could apologise the queen started laughing a long with Ubbe and Hvitserk.

“I like her mother.” Ivar chuckled as he stared up at you in wonder. You met his ocean blue eyes with a sweet smile and he shot you a charming smile that made your heart melt. You felt your cheeks flush so you tried to avoid his eyes, yet you couldn’t stop from looking up only to see he’d yet to remove his eyes from you.

Unlike when Sigurd did this it felt exciting when Ivar did it. It was flattering you thought to yourself. The queen seemed to notice the flirting eyes you were sending each other but chose not to say a word until later on in the night.

………

“What do you think of my sons Y/N?” The queen asked mischievously as the rest her arms on the side of the tub, watching you closely.

“They are good reliable men.” You responded awkwardly as you got her night clothes ready.

“What about Ivar?” She asked quietly trying to his her smirk behind the tubs edge.

“I-Ivar is just as reliable as his brothers if not more.” You muttered quietly as you held out a wash cloth for her.

“Who is the most handsome of my sons?” She teased as she began washing herself.

“Ivar.” You wish you’d at least paused before answering but you blurted out his name so fast it actually visibly shocked the queen.

“Why not ask to lay with him?” She giggled playfully it made you giggle too despite being a queen she was quite playful when she wanted to be.

“Because I am a slave and I have no right to ask a prince and son of Ragnar to lay with someone like me.” You laughed bitterly before giving her a small smile silently asking to move on from that topic.

…….

You were pouring the queen a drink when Ivar appeared at the door, dragging himself straight to the seat near the fire. You finished pouring the queen a drink before walking over to Ivar with a cup. You passed the cup to him with a smile before filling it up in silence.

He tried to keep a straight face but you could see he was trying to not smile. He suddenly patted the spot next to him signalling for you to sit with him. You sat down with no hesitation, placing your hands on your lap as you waited for him to ask or request whatever he was going to.

“I have never been with a woman. I don’t even know if I can.” He said so quiet you thought you’d misheard but you knew you hadn’t. This handsome and desirable Viking is a virgin.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I am thankfully still a virgin. I’ve been lucky in having mostly female mistresses.” You giggled softly as you moved a little closer to him.

“Would you have sex with me?” Ivar asked awkwardly looking away with a blush.

“I would really like to, yes.” You blushed but continued watching him. His eyes widened and he looked at you in amazement as if he was shocked by your answer.

“I thought you were most handsome of your brothers before you asked me. I even told your mother yesterday.” You mumbled shyly as you moved your hand closer to his on the seat.

“Really?” He asked with raised brows.

“Yes…c-can I kiss you?” You stutter not sure if casual affection would be okay. You were not his wife or his lover so you really had no right.

He nodded gently before turning towards you a little more. You leant up and placed a soft kiss on his lips your hands still resting on the bench. His right hand came up to cup your cheek softly as he kissed you so sweetly, it made you melt.

“You said no forcing the slave to do intimate shit!” You heard a voice shout behind Ivar. Ivar released you immediately like he’s done something wrong but you stood up angrily and you couldn’t stop your stupid mouth.

“This was completely consensual! I’m the one that asked to kiss him! Oh wait how about proof!” You shouted before straddling Ivar making sure not to hurt his legs in the process before kissing him roughly.

He gripped your waist tightly as he kissed you back, his tongue meeting yours in a battle for dominance. You let out a little moan when he bit your bottom lip softly before finally pulling away.

“Why would you want to when you could’ve had any one of us?” Sigurd asked in utter confusion.

“Do you even understand how much strength he has to drag himself round all day? While his bones break over and over? He is the strongest and the most handsome out of all of you and I would gladly pledge my undying loyalty to him not any of you. Sorry master Sigurd.” You huffed before turning to Ivar with a shy smile as you tried to climb off his lap but he held you there with a grin, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

You giggled and snuggled into him wrapping your legs around his waist so you were more comfortable. The queen was watching the entire situation in humour and relief that someone finally realised how unique and strong her youngest son is.

........

Later that night at dinner you sat in Ivar’s lap while he ate and fed you little bits. He was very sweet to you and it made your heart ache to be more than his slave. If only you could be his wife.

“Will you be joining me in my room tonight my sweet?” Ivar whispered in your ear playfully earning a giggled from you. You gave him a happy nod before he picked a little meat off the bone and holding out to you. You took the meat from his fingers before licking his finger seductively.

He bit his own bottom lip as he watched your tongue like he was hypnotised by you. You gave him a cheeky smile before placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Can you two save it for the bedroom?” Sigurd hissed as he slammed down his cup onto the table.

“Leave them be Sigurd I’m happy to see Ivar happy.” The queen scolded with a glare before she turned to her side to look at you and Ivar with a soft smile.

You roles your eyes to Ivar making him laugh before placing an amused kiss on your lips. You gave him an ecstatic smile at his proud face. You curled up against him shyly, but he happily wrapped his arm around you tightly using his other one to stroke your hair sweetly.

“Why don’t you go to my room and I’ll be in soon, hmm?” He muttered against your hair.

You gave a nod before standing up and making your way to Ivar’s room. You sat on his bed and waited patiently for him to drag himself into the room. It wasn’t much time before Ivar dragged himself into the room with no struggle. He climbed into the bed before turning to you to talk.

“Come here sweetheart.” He groaned as he dragged himself into the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard.

You crawled to him slowly until you were in his lap. He ran his hand from your thighs up to your rib cage so swiftly it made you gasp. You gripped his shirt tugging at it letting him know you wanted it gone. You quickly pulled the shirt off him after he gave you a nod and you were practically drooling.

“See something you like Y/N?” He chuckled deeply as he laid back observing your blush as his hands rested just beneath your breast.

“Touch me please Master.” You begged shamelessly.

“Call me Ivar my sweet.” He whispered as he sat up pressing his bare chest against your clothes one. You sat back enough to rip your entire dress off throwing it across the room leaving you completely naked.

He observed you for a few seconds with hungry eyes before bringing you into a searing kiss. His tongue dominated yours in seconds and you let him because giving him control was the least you could do for this strong man.

“Ivar…” You moaned against his lips as you took a break from kissing. Your hand trailed down his chest and suddenly his hand grabbed your wrist with a worried glance.

“I’m not sure if I can…” He muttered nervously but you gave him a sweet smile.

“You can. I promise you just have to want to fuck me enough.” You whispered seductively into his ear as you grind your wet pussy against his clothed crotch.

“Shit well that should be easy enough.” He groaned against your neck before he lay you down. His muscles bulged as he did making you whimper at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your naked breast before kissing his way to your nipple, catching it in his mouth and nipping on it earning a moan from you.

His hand traveled downwards towards your core and as soon as his fingers touched you, you let out a needy little whimper earning a groan from the man hovering above you with just one arm supporting him. When you hands tracked down his chest he didn’t stop you this time though he did tense up.

When you reached his pants you felt the outline of his very much working dick and letting out a moan at how big he was. Would that even fit? You didn’t care you wanted him. He looked down in pleasure as you rubbed his erection gently.

“You’re so big.” You whispered in pleasure as his finger rubbed circles over your clit so gently it was driving you mad. You pulled at the lace in his pants undoing it and pulling his stuff member out of his trousers. Ivar’s eyes widened slightly before he pulled you in for messy passionate kiss.

As his tongue fought against yours he pushed two fingers into you, curling them slightly. His hands were rough but they felt good either way. You felt yourself getting close as your moans got louder.

“Ivar m’gonna cum.” You arches your back pressed your chest to his as you thrust against his fingers. He gave you a smirk before moving his fingers faster as he used his thumb to put pressure on your clit.

“Cum for me my love.” At the affectionate nickname you came all over his fingers , your body shaking violently as you came down from your orgasm.

“Fuck me…please?” You begged desperately spreading your legs further so he could come closer.

When his tip brushed against your wets folds you both let out groans of want. His eyes were staring straight into yours as he caressed your cheek lovingly. You nuzzled into his hand kissing his palm lightly before looking at him.

“Ready sweetheart?” He asked gently before giving you a chaste kiss. You gave him a nod and he slowly pushed his tip into you with a breathless gasp. He kept pushing into you slowly, your nails digging into his skin on his back as he stretched you in a way your own finger never could.

When he reached your barrier he stopped to give you a slow sensual kiss as he pushed past it with a sudden firm thrust. You cried into his mouth as he stopped kissing away the tears that escaped your eyes.

After a minute or so you thrust your hips up experimentally, to see if it still hurt but instead of pain you just felt pleasure. You thrust you hips up again more forcefully and Ivar took the hint and began thrusting into you at a slow yet deep pace that had you begging for more.

He smirked down at you and he kept up with the agonising pace not saying a word as he watch you writhe underneath him. You were growing angry and before you could rethink you actions you rolled both of you over so you were on top.

Without a word you began lifting up and slamming down on him at the fast pace you wanted. Ivar let out an almost animalistic growl as he clutched you hips as took control. You felt your pussy clench around him as your second orgasm started coiling in your stomach. He must’ve felt it because he started rubbing circles on your clit and you bounced on his cock taking what you want from him.

“Are you going to cum all over my cock, my love?” He growled his nails digging into your naked ass as he helped you bounce up and down. That’s all it took to push you over the edge, his sickly sweet yet sadistic voice whispering dirty things.

“Y-Yes! Oh Ivar!” You screamed riding out your orgasm happy before collapsing on top of him.

He flipped you both over again and started pounding into you mercilessly. He was like an out of control animal and you loved it. You cling to the furs below you try to hold onto anything as you try to ground yourself.

“Oh gods your so big! Feel so full…” You moaned you voice was so desperate like you were addicted to him. His grunts and groans had you getting riled up all over again the feeling was different though it was stronger because you were over sensitive from recently cunning twice.

“Yes! Oh g-gods…Think m’gonna cum again!” You screamed as you felt your entire body start shaking, the pressure building more and more.

“Me too love…fuck.” He groaned as he thrust faster into you as his hand came down to brush across your clit in a fast brushing motion. And sudden your vision went white. You came so hard you felt liquid gushing out of you and Ivar had stopped his thrusting and pulled back to watch as you just kept shaking.

“Shit that was sexy...”he growled as he started thrusting even harder than before.

“M’Gonna fill you up my love.” He grumbled as his thrust became erratic and untimed.

You lay there still twitching as he used your pussy to finish himself off. As you felt the hot spurts hit your walls you moaned it made you feel full and warm. Ivar collapsed on top of you panting, his skin sticking to yours due to the damp skin.

You brought your arms up, wrapping them around him stroking his hair gently as you bother enjoyed your afterglow. He eventually sat up with a type of smile you had never seen on him, but it’s made your heart flutter.

“I’m glad I’m the first man to see you like that.” He mumbled shyly as his eyes flicked around to avoid yours.

“I am also glad, that no woman has had the pleasure of you as well. I came 3 times.” You giggled grinding down on his cock that was still inside you.

“Yes that last one was interesting. Does that normally happen?” Ivar asked with sudden interest his eyes quickly meeting yours.

“No that’s never happened when I’ve touched myself.” You answered honestly though a blush still made it’s way to your cheeks.

“I wanna do it again.” He muttered with a semi evil smirk before he thrust inside you again.

This was going to be a long night, you thought to yourself with a giggle.

……

The next morning you walked into the great hall right next to Ivar as you laughed and teased each other. As you got to the throne you tried to keep you face straight and curtsy politely but Ivar kept looking up at you with a childish grin and it was hard not to laugh.

“I see you two are getting on.” The queen chuckled as she observed you both.

“Master Ivar is treating me with much more respect than I probably deserve my queen.” You answered with a grateful smile to Ivar who just frowned.

“I want her to be a free woman.” Ivar declared with a glare making sure his mother knows he’s serious.

“W-What?! Ivar n-no the queen doesn’t ha-”

“Okay.” The queen interrupted you with a grin.

A smile spread across Ivar’s faces as your eyes just widened. You were free, just like that. You couldn’t believe it. This felt like a dream to you, you looked down at Ivar before your legs decidedly gave out causing you to fall down right next to him. He sat up and pulled you into his arms as tears fell from your eyes. You cuddled into his chest clutching onto him like he was your life line.

“Thank you!” You sobbed over and over again into his chest.

He stroked your hair cradling you in his arms, like you were the most precious jewel in the world. You looked up at him drying your eyes with a shy smile. He matched your smile as he caressed your cheek sweetly.

“I would also like to ask if you would like to be my wife?” He whispered down to you with a soft gaze. Your eyes widened once again, he wanted a boring ex slave to be his wife?

“Me? I am not worthy of you…a-and you barely know me…Why?” You asked so quietly you weren’t sure he even heard you until he spoke up.

“You are more than worthy my love. You have shown me I can be a normal man despite my crippled legs. I know that you would never betray me and I know that I wish for you to be my wife.” He stated gently his eyes shining with affections and in that moment you realised this man was a gift from the gods and you would happily marry him.

“Yes I will marry you.” You giggled happily before pressing a kiss to his lips.

#Ivar #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar smut #Viking’s #filth #alex hogh andersen #alex hogh #vikings imagine #slave #cute ivar

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writerdream22 · 2 years

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requested by: anon, I sincerely hope you like this 💛🌻✨

pairings (platonic): Ubbe Ragnarsson x reader, Ivar The Boneless x reader, Hvitserk x reader, Sigurd x reader, etc.

warnings: none

feedbacks are always welcome!

Since arriving in Kattegat, you had made friends with the sons of Ragnar; being the same age as you were, you spent most of your time together and enjoyed going hunting once in a while

The four boys had immediately noticed that there was something different in you, but they never seemed to be bothered by the looks people gave you. They just guessed that it was because you had arrived to Kattegat alone with your mother, from a land unknown.

However, when they found you talking with your mother one day, they noticed one very important thing: your mother's hands, that were crushing a few herbs with the help of a mortar, were glowing red. At first they thought it was an hallucination caused by the fumes that were being released by the variety of concoctions that were being prepared, but something in the back of their mind told them that it had something to do with magic.

And with that, the sons of Ragnar started talking with you less and less; however, you always felt observed whenever you walked around of wandered off into the forest. Something was clearly wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint what was it exactly.

One day, you decided to go into the forest as to unwind and get some time alone. Your mother too was annoying at times, and the fact that she always knew what was going on in your mind was quite bothering.

Unfortunately, it started raining as soon as you got to your destination. You couldn't walk back home, and you didn't want to either, so you conjured a sword and started training. It wasn't the same without Ubbe or Hvitserk, but it had to do.

However, in the midst of your moment of calm, you were disturbed by a much too familiar sound.

“Y/n”

“Ubbe. What brings you here?”

“I could ask you the same question”

“Fair. As you can see, I wanted to train in the pouring rain. It helps me cool off after hard days.”

“Uhm, are you aware of the fact that not even a droplet of water had reached your head nor your clothes?”

In that moment, you mentally slapped yourself; how could you have not noticed? Your magic wasn't under your control and it was bothering to say the least. You could harness it yes, but not control it to its full potential.

“No, I didn't notice. You already knew it, didn't you?”

“Hvitserk and I saw your mother grinding leaves with her hands glowing red, and we suspected that it was magic”

“Look, if you want me to leave Kattegat, I'll leave. I'm a witch, my mother is a witch. We're abnormalities that shouldn't plague such a nice place like Kattegat.”

“That's not true”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why you all started ignoring me after seeing— that.”

“We were scared”

“Of what? The seer is much scarier and ominous than a little magic. We never hurt anyone”

“You might, though”

“Yes, like anyone else. Just like any one of the people in Kattegat might accidentally or purposely harm someone. You're pathetic, Ubbe! At first, you act like this is not a problem at all, but then— then you change your mind in the blink of an eye!”

With that said, you walked away and didn't turn around to take a look at your former friend.

A few weeks passed by, and you didn't dare to visit the Ragnarssons. It was a stupid and immature behaviour the one you were carrying out, but you didn't care. Ubbe tried reaching out to you a few times, his brothers, too, but you ignored them.

Unfortunately, you were forced to go with your mother to a banquet held in Kattegat's great hall. She insisted that you come, and you knew that the only thing she wanted was for you to make peace with Ubbe. Needless to say, you were quite nervous.

“Y/n, darling, why aren't you eating your stew?”

“I'm not hungry, mother. And you know the reason why”

“Yes, I do. And your reason has been looking at you for the whole evening, ignoring both his brothers and the girls that keep clinging to him”

“You're kidding”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No?”

“Then I don't have a reason to tell you something that differs from the reality of things. Oh, by the way— he's coming towards the two of us. Please, behave appropriately”

“Yes, ma'am”

As soon as your mother finished talking, she sat up and walked over to a few acquaintances of hers, who were standing at the other side of the hall.

“Is this seat taken?”

“Clearly not” “Right”

“Do you have anything important to say, or can I stuff my ears with bread so that I'll never hear your voice again?”

“I want to apologize”

“Well, you took your time...”

“Are you still angry?”

“Obviously! Did you expect me to dance and sing happily in the middle of the room?”

“No, but—”

“But what, Ubbe?”

You started expressing all the frustration and sadness that you were keeping inside. You understood your friend's interaction, it was understandable after all, but somehow coming from him felt like you were pierced by a thousand arrows at once.

Ubbe ended up apologizing afterwards, as he should have way before the banquet, and so did his brothers.

They gave you complete freedom to use your powers whenever you wanted, but they made you promise to help the people of Kattegat whenever you could, so that they didn't see your powers as something potentially harmful.

After a while, kids started approaching you and asking where you got them. “Did Frigga teach you this?” or “Are you a goddess?” they would ask, thinking that what you were doing was pure Seiðr and not a genetic thing that you couldn't help but have.

Nonetheless, you were happy that the people, and especially the Ragnarssons, accepted you. You knew that they were somewhat afraid, your mother told you a couple of times about your friends' thoughts, but you didn't care much.

All that mattered in that moment was happiness; yours, of the princes, of the people. But was it really happiness or just a façade?

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lokifromvalhalla · 2 years

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Time and humility

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Ivar The Boneless x Reader Genre: Comfort / Fluff Words: ± 1 600

A curse leaded to Ivar being turned into a half-cat person, which he doesn't really knows how to deal with nor does his partner, but they figure it out despite how stubborn Ivar can be.

Suggested by @bragisrunes"I would love to see your take on cat ivar! smut or fluff!!!"

Took some of Bragi's story as inspo, absolutely lovely, go check his story about cat Ivar!

Not proofread! Sorry for any mistakes!

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

The unfortunate cross of ways between Ivar and that witch resulted in this curse we have no idea how to solve, but we were taught to wait, at least. You need two thinks thing; the first all things devours: birds, beasts, trees, flowers; gnaws iron, bites steel; grinds hard stones to meal; slays king, ruins town, and beats high mountain down; the second if you think you have it, you probably don't; if you have it, you probably won't know it—she had said with a spine-chilling chuckle before shooting a glare at Ivar and walking away. It wasn’t until we went back to the Great Hall that we noticed that Ivar wasn’t quite the same as when he had left his house, this time counting on the company of a tail and cat ears.

At first, it was just Ubbe and I staring at Ivar while trying to process what was happening and figure out what to do with it while Ivar sat there confused, only to be alarmed by Sigurd once he walked into the room and snorted at the moment his eyes fell on Ivar, and that’s when chaos ensued, intensified by Hvitserk also getting himself into the situation.

That was a couple of days ago. Now, we’re just making sure to keep Ivar inside the Hall and as hidden from the people as possible—under Aslaug’s orders—whilst we try to figure out a way to get him back to normal, though there’s no trace of the witch anywhere. It’s almost as if she vanished. Either way, we’re stuck with dealing with a grumpy Ivar until all of this is over. Well, either grumpy or extremely playful since he gets bored very easily; sometimes he will just show up in the corner of the room under bed covers, observing us as some sort of ghost, and start giggling as soon as someone jumps startled after noticing his presence. I would hate it if it weren’t so adorable—and maybe I spoil him more than I should, whatever Ubbe says.

Now is another one of these times; I could hear the characteristic sound of Ivar dragging himself down the hall under the sound of indistinct chatter and people walking, and soon the figure settles down by the corner of the room.

For a moment, I cogitate pretending to get scared, but I save myself time and also the inconvenience. “I’m nowhere near done yet.” The coins make a muffled sound that cuts through the room when I push them down the wooden table to a small pile.

Ivar whines, huffing as he pulls the cover over his head for a moment. “You don’t need to do those, anyways.”

“It’s not like that.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not here for free, even if I’m a great friend of the family.”

“Even mother told you to get that idea off your head already!” He clicks his tongue, his ears shifting under the cover. “Can’t you do that tomorrow or anything? I’m sure no one will mind!”

“Ivar, the things won’t buy themselves!” I scoff, taking the coins in hand to shove them inside the small bag. “And you won’t survive a night without that tea that soothes the pain, you know that!” I shoot a glare at him before I can start sorting out the other objects I got for trading to make sure Hvitserk didn’t forget to get me anything this time.

“Can’t you send Ubbe to do that?”

“You know he’s busy with the newcomers.”

“Hvitserk?”

“Training.”

“Uuh, fuck... Sigurd?” His voice is quiet and small. It almost makes my heart ache a little since the fact he’s suggesting Sigurd, resorting to the last means...

I sigh. “Hedeby with your mother.”

“No!” He groans, voice growing louder. “That means you’ll need to go out! And I’ll be here alone forever! Is this what you want, (y/n)? You want to put me under all this suffering?”

Gods, poor baby—okay, I’m being partly sarcastic, part of me still wants to cuddle him all day long. I make sure everything is in order before I get up and move to crouch down next to him, wrapping my arms around Ivar. “You know I’ll give you all the love when I come back, stop being dramatic. You’re even the reason I’m leaving, you dumbass, you’re aware only your brothers and I know the stuff to get at the market.”

Ivar hums in defeat, resting his head against my shoulder. “You’ll be spending the night with me,” he whispers.

“Of course.” I smile softly, and let my hand slip under the covers to scratch a spot behind his ears, earning myself the quiet rumbling sound of his purring that’s soon interrupted as he quietly curses, tapping my forearm a couple of times at the same moment he hears footsteps down the hall, though no one ever walks in. I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Be good while I’m away.”

His eyes meet mine for a short moment before they’re falling to the ground and he slowly nods as the light red tone takes over his cheeks.

Even if most of what Ivar does when following me around the city when I have to do my duties is to distract me for most of the time—not like I’m completely against it, especially given the times when he’ll look at me with that crafty smirk, minutes before pulling me to a quiet corner so we can kiss until his lips are all swollen and mine tingle—, I do miss his presence a lot. It’s not as fun to walk around without anyone to talk to or someone poking my calf every two seconds so I will check something out. Of course I’m able to do everything faster, but I weirdly feel more tired than usual when I’m done. Damn witch.

The hall’s empty as it usually is at the end of the afternoon, in a great contrast to its state late at night when everyone is here for supper. A sigh escapes my lips as I let the things I brought back on top of the table and motion for a thrall to put everything away. My breath is still a little out of pace when I carefully walk into Ivar’s bedroom, making sure I’m not too noisy in case he’s asleep again—it’s nowhere easy to identify whether the figure hidden under the blanket with its swinging tail out is awake or not.

A long sigh finally escapes my nose as I take a seat on the bed, about to move to start untying my shoes when fingers digging into my sides have me jumping and screaming as my heartbeat bangs in my ears, but I’m soon grounded with the sound of giggling.

“Fuck!” I click my tongue, shaking my head, but Ivar just laughs louder, and as much as I want to join him and laugh along, I limit myself to only pressing my lips together in a gentle smile so he won’t grow so smug. “Very funny, love, very funny!”

“You should’ve seen your face!”

I roll my eyes, slapping his arm lightly. “Fuck off, hm?” I finally bend down to untie my laces and get my shoes off, and it doesn’t take long before my vest is growing loose, and I glance back at Ivar, who tugs the strings of my vest undone then scoots away to give me some room on the bed. My vest meets the ground with a heavy thud, and I finally allow myself to feel some peace as I cuddle close to Ivar, also slipping under the furs. “So? How were things while I was away?”

Ivar sighs as he rests his head against my shoulder, raising his eyebrows a little. “Boring, of course.”

“Yeah, same for me,” I hum, but soon brush away the thoughts that almost gave me headaches earlier today. One of Ivar’s strands falls on his eyes, so I try to brush it away only for him to move away from the touch and he has my knuckle between his teeth before I can notice. Fuck. The complaint I was about to groan, however, dies at my lips at the moment I notice how he’s more of chewing down on my knuckle lightly instead of biting, much like the kittens that I had found at the forest would do. Sometimes I wonder if Asa and Hali still take care of them, something I would ask Bjorn about if he showed up as often as he promises to.

A sigh escapes my lips as I raise an eyebrow at Ivar and he seems to be brought to reality by it, his eyes meeting mine while he pauses for a moment only to sink his teeth into my finger actually hard this time.

“Ivar!” I hiss, pulling my hand away with a glare that doesn’t do anything much aside from snatching another chuckle from him; I shake my hand a little until the pain is reduced to a soft throbbing and sigh, sitting up on the bed. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room if you continue like that!”

“No!” Ivar cries out with a groan, and I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I pull him close and tight so he won’t mess around again so easily. He’s still grumbling quietly when snuggling closer, pressing his face to my neck as his hand rests on my chest, drawing patterns against it absentmindedly.

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #x fem reader #vikings #vikings x reader #fan fic #fan fiction

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casualwriters · 3 years

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Sitting at you're Sisters' table you looked between you and the Norsemen and Norsewoman and then you're sisters. "You know our conditions and we agree with your condition," your head sister said making you look up to See Ivar starting at you not in a creepy way but more of an admiring manner you keeping eye contact with him as the others were talking he smiled making you smile in response trying to not giggle out of awkwardness. Ivar seemed to be in his mind and so was you, knowing that you already knew what this peace offering attend to. The smell of sage made you look up to see you're sister lighting a bush. "May the marriage be happening soon."

You're sisters and the Nordic people let you and Ivar talked for a bit Ivar was walking on his crutches when he said " I know just say it woman I am not a man because I am crippled .'' Shaking your head with a laugh an annoying laugh, but an understanding tone to it. "The gods whatever gods you believe in did not make you like this, to make you suffer Ivar," sitting down on the grass right by him you plucked a flower smelling the earth and the bud of It. "They made you like that because they knew you were strong to handle it." Those words made Ivar take the flower from you're hand slipping it in your ear " we'll Little witch you may have a point, but I can't truly be a king if my legs won't work." You shrug "maybe that just in you're head you can do anything you put you mind too." He kissed you're hand nodding

"Maybe you right. "

#the vikings #tv show #ivar the boneless #vikings bjorn #old norse #pagan witch #y/n #small account #y/n x reader #headcannons #fanfic #for fun #writer

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e-m-christina · 4 years

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I’d love to send in my request, but it is quite long so I will apologize right away 🙈 i love your Ivar writings so for this it is Ivar x reader where the reader is a healer. She uses everything nature has to offer to help people like herbs and stuff. But because of this people think that she is a witch & she lives at the edge of Kattegat & is treated like an outsider. Ivar is King and one day he is in so much pain that he needs help so Hvitserk comes and gets her. Ivar and the reader Fall in Love because she is very similar to him - an outsider (but kind hearted). 💕

Herbs and Spices (Ivar X Reader)

Can I just say, I absolutely LOVE this request! I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

The stars glimmered like millions of tiny lanterns in the smooth, glass-like lake. You trailed your bandaged fingers across the surface, sending ripples across the water.

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched stars become disturbed by the rippling waves. Memories of the day replayed in your mind like a never ending song;

You had gone into Kattegat to take a look at the annual markets, a basket full of herbs and spices that you were planning to use in your next healing cream, tucked under your arm. When you were just about to leave, an old lady pointed her wrinkled finger at you.

“She is a witch! A witch, she is!” The elderly woman squawked at you, drawing a crowd.

Though this behaviour was common in the streets of Kattegat, what happened next was something you did not expect. The crowd started jeering and yelling at you, they had all dropped their baskets and were waving their fists in the air as a particularly large, white haired man stepped out of the crowd.

“I’m not a witch! Please let me go, I don’t want to cause any trouble.” You said, backing away slowly, very aware of how close the man was standing. He loomed over you like a great tower. Without saying a word, he grabbed the basket out of your hands and threw it to the ground. It’s contents spilled everywhere, sending up clouds of red ground herbs. Your heart sank at this. You had spent the last of your money on those now wasted spices.

Before you could react, the man shoved you to the ground with a single push of his hand. Your body hit the ground with a ‘thud’ causing a sharp pain to throb under your right eye. You tried to scramble up, but the man placed his foot on your back, pressing you further into the mud. Tears started to sting your eyes as the man applied more pressure on your back.

“We have warned you not to come back here Y/N, you know what we do to witches like you.” The man growled, spitting in your hair. You let out a whimper as the crowd's volume began to rise. With a finally kick to the stomach, the man slipped back into the wall of people, leaving you to crawl around the mud, trying to scavenge your herbs.

You tried to block the memory of the day out as you pushed yourself up from the ground, patting your dress off before you started to head back to your house. You lived on the outskirts of Kattegat, away from the people. You were not welcome there. All you ever wanted to do was help people, make them feel better, but all you received in return was hate and fear. Yet, if they ever felt sick or were injured, they would come crawling to you for help. Many times you had wanted to send them away, but the guilt of not helping someone would gnaw at your mind. You lived on your own, and you would go days, weeks even, without seeing a single soul. The only person that ever treated you with kindness was Floki, and in some aspects, he was very similar to you. An outsider. After Helga’s death, he had sailed off to a distant land, taking only a few men with him. In other words, you were too damn lonely.

You swung your door open, and stepped into your chilly house. The layout of the home was simple; a one person bed in the back room, and a small table next to the hearth. Hundreds of shelves lined the wooden walls, with each ledge balancing a mixture of jars filled with herbs, all stacked upon dusty books that you had taken from England in your last raid.

You were setting a pot of water above the hot harth, when a knock sounded on your door. You slowly stood up, taking a few steps towards the door. Nerves built in your chest as you got closer. What if it was that crowd again, coming to torment you?

“Hello, are you in there?” You heard a male voice call from the other side. There seemed to be only one person, in other words, you could only hear one person. What if it was a trap? You interrupted your own thoughts. What if it is someone needing help? Biting your lip, you swung the door open. On the other side stood a young man, he was wrapped in a thick fur, and his brown hair was pleated. Your eyes widened, recognising the man instantly. It was Hvitserk, son of Ragnar and brother to King Ivar.

“Hvitserk? Can I help you?” You asked, unsure how to address him. You had never actually met the Lothbrok family before, other than Ragnar who came to you a few years back needing patched up after he ‘fell’ from a tree.

“Not me, but my brother Ivar. His legs are in severe pain, our private healers cannot seem to help him. He wants you to help, can you?” He asked, taking a step inside, out of the cold. Ivar wanted you to help him?

“I do not know, though I can try.” You said, noticing Hvitserk eye your herb shelves with suspicion.

“Well, gather what you need, I will wait outside.” Hvitserk said, before heading out of the door. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. If you were honest, you were more than scared to watch Ivar at his speeches, nevermind being one on one and trying to ease his pain. What if you couldn’t? Would he punish you? You shivered to think what he might do if you could not help, or if you made it worse by accident. But the fear of not going and refusing your kings orders outweighed that thought.

Without thinking, you found yourself stuffing ointments, creams, spices and other healing concoctions into a satchel, before slinging on a thick fur coat over your grey slip dress.

“I am ready now.” You said, closing the front door behind you. Hvitserk nodded, letting you lead the way down your path and through the gate and into the forest that lay beyond your doorstep.

The bare branches spiked into the sky - no sign of life to be found anywhere. It was so dark you were barely able to see where you were going. There were only small sounds of rustling bushes and the howl of the wind.The hills that lie friendly in the day - like the pillows of the land - are darkly ominous by night. The paths that were illuminated just hours before became lost in a blackness that even moonlight cannot help. The trees that are magnificent in the sunshine now tower over you like dark towers as you took steps across the path that was borderline between the seen and unseen. The walk back to Kattegat was silent, Hvitserk did not utter a word as you trailed slowly by his side.

You fidgeted with your fingers nervously as Hvitserk led you down the hallway toward Ivars bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the flaming torches that were mounted on the wooden walls lowly flickered, casting shadows over a great wolf fur covered bed. Upon that bed lay King Ivar. He had his eyes squeezed shut, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest that was rising and falling with short, sharp intakes of breath.

“Ivar, she is here.” Hvitserk said, leading you into the room toward Ivar. Your legs felt heavy with every step you took towards your king. Ivars eyes fluttered open as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His eyes followed every step you took, making you wish that you could just shrink out of existence. You stopped at the foot of his bed, biting the inside of your cheek. You felt out of place being in your kings bedroom, it felt as though you were intruding on his privacy.

“Good. The pain is getting worse with every passing moment.” Ivar groaned, rubbing his legs, before looking at his brother. “You may leave now, Hvitserk, I don't need you anymore, now that Y/N is here. Hm?” Ivar said, shooting a glance at Hvitserk. Your stomach dropped. Even though Hvitserk had only spoken a few words to you, you felt safer with him around.

“If you need anything, call me through.” Hvitserk said, stopping at the door. “And don’t do anything stupid Ivar.” He said.

“I have never done anything stupid in my life, dear brother.” Ivar said with a smirk as Hvitserk left the room. With every echoing step of Hvitserks departing footsteps, the more nervous you grew. You were now utterly alone with Ivar.

“So Y/N, what do you think will help.” Ivar said, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand. You willed your words out, trying to sound as confident as possible.

“Well,um, I think we should start with evening primrose oil. It will help relax your muscles, whilst providing some pain relief, King Ivar.” You said, setting your bag down on the ground beside Ivars bed. He only responded by resting his head on the headboard of his bed, and shut his eyes again. You rummaged through your satchel, pulling out the primrose oil. You dropped three drops into the cup of water on his stand before handing it to him.

“Here, drink this,” You said, handing him the cup. You held your breath as he frowned at the cup.

“My legs are in pain, how shall a drink help?” He asked, swishing the water around in the cup.

“Trust me, it will help.” You said, pushing the bottom of the cup towards his lips. With a small ‘hmm,’ he began to sip at the water.

An hour had passed with total silence. After drinking the Primrose oil, Ivar had not uttered a word, instead he watched your every movement. You were placing the hot coals on his legs, ignoring his stares. You had treated him first with the oil, before moving onto his legs by applying various creams and pastes, before adding hot coals to relax his muscles.

“The coals should take half an hour to work.” You said, breaking the silence as you started packing away the leftover materials into your satchel. “Would you like me to leave? After thirty minutes you can throw the coals back into the fire.” You said, looking to Ivar.

“That is not necessary, besides, you can keep me company.” Ivar said, pointing to a chair on the other side of the room. “Take that chair over, and sit.” He said. You internally groaned, wanting nothing more than to leave. You begrudgingly dragged the chair over to his bed, carefully taking a seat.

“Now tell me, why have I not seen you around Kattegat?” He asked you. You looked down to your hands and bit your lip. Why was he trying to have a conversation with you?

“Well, I am not really welcome here.” You said, remembering the events that took place a few hours prior to your summoning to help ease is painful legs. Ivar tilted his head in confusion.

“Not welcome? I did not say you were not welcome.” He said, pouring himself a glass of mead.

“No, not you, King Ivar. The people do not welcome me here. They think of me as a witch.” You brushed your hair behind your hair awkwardly as he took a long, slow sip of his mead, his eyes boring into you.

“Yes, I have heard the rumour. In fact, when I summoned you, I was expecting an old hag.” He said. “But you make for better company than a hag.” He added, making you smile lightly. You looked up to see a small smile dance on his lips.

“I am glad you think so, King Ivar.” You said, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks.

“No need for formalities, Y/N. Call me Ivar.” He said, handing you a cup of mead. A few more moments of silence passed as you sat sipping your drink. Your prior nerves were washing away, and all of your worries about him were almost completely gone. In fact Ivar was much more pleasant than you could ever expect. At his speeches he acts like a power hungry psychopath, but in reality he was actually quite kind hearted. It all came together then. It only then hit you why he acted so cruel in public. It was to make himself appear stronger, to compensate for his legs. How could you not have realized that before?

“Why did you ask me to help?” You asked after a while, making him look sadly down at his lap.

“I had a friend, his name was Floki. He told me about you, about how you could heal people. It was not until Hvitserk mentioned you today, did I remember.” Ivar said, shuffling under the hot coals and hot rocks that you had placed on his lap.

“Floki?” You said in surprise. You did not think that Floki would like Ivar, never mind being his friend.

“Yes, did you know him?” Ivar asked you.

“Yes, he was my only friend, well that was before he sailed off to a distant land.” You said quietly, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought that Floki was gone. You met Ivars eyes, and for a split second, you could have sworn that you saw a flicker of sadness as well.

“Well, I think we have more in common than we think Y/N. He too was one of my only friends. I wonder what has become of him.” A heaviness fell in the air as both of you remembered your old friend.

“Well, I think the coal should have worked by now.” You said quickly, placing your cup down before you started removing the coals, and placing them back into the fire beside his bed.

“Y/N?” Ivar said, watching you pack up. You looked back up at him, catching his brilliant blue eyes.

“Yes King Ivar- I mean, Ivar?” You said, stumbling over your words. You finished wrapping his legs in the fur blankets.

“Would you like to become my personal healer?” He asked. You froze in your spot. His personal healer? You gulped as you looked at him.

“I, um…” You trailed off, not knowing how to reply to his offer.

“You have been the only one who has been able help me.” He pleaded, sitting upright. You looked down to the floor, mulling the offer over in your head. What could be the worst that could happen?

“Yes, alright. I will be your healer.”

From that day on, you had tended to Ivars legs, cuts, broken bones or any illness that took over him. It had been a few months and you had grown rather close. When you were around him now, you would feel your heart picking up its pace, and your cheeks would start to glow. You had still not come to terms with the fact that you were developing feelings for your king, in fact you tried to completely shove your feelings down. Afterall, he would never like you back. He was the king, and you were just his healer.

You were sitting on Ivars bed, patching up a cut that was on his bare chest, a cut he had gotten from Odin knows where. You had finished patching the wound when he finally spoke.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” He asked. You lowered your working hands onto your lap as you looked at Ivar.

“Yes, of course.” You said, slightly confused as to why he was asking you. He usually just blurted out the first things that would come to his head. You watched as Ivar fidgeted with the bed sheets below him, biting his lip.

“Y/N, I… Never mind.” He shook his head and looked away as he brushed off the subject. You frowned, tilting your head to the side.

“Ivar, what is it that you want to tell me? You know you can trust me.” You said, trying to catch his gaze. Finally, he looked up at you, his warm blue eyes meeting yours, making your heart flutter slightly.

“Thank you.” He said at last. What? You stared at him in utter confusion.

“I-You are welcome?” You said, but it came out more as a question as you tried to make sense of his words.

“No, I do not think you understand. I am saying thank you because you have made me realize something.” Ivar said, placing his warm hand over yours. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as your heart started beating hard against his chest.

“What did you realize?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, and ignore the fact that Ivar was holding your hand. But Ivar did not answer with words, instead, he started to lean forward, cupping your cheek with his other hand. By this point your heart was ramming through your ribcage as you got lost in his blue eyes.

“Ivar-” You were cut off by his lips. Ivar grazed his warm mouth over yours, barely touching your lips. You inhaled sharply at the sudden kiss, frozen in place. He pressed his lips against yours again, this time applying more pressure. Your eyes fluttered shut as he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his bare chest. Your mind fell into bliss, feeling his hot lips move against yours, now in a more hungry and desperate way. You ran your fingers through his loose hair that fell to his shoulders, making him groan into your mouth. You felt his tongue flick across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You complied, parting your lips to let him in. A small moan escaped your lips as his tongue roamed your mouth. His grip on your waist tightened as the kiss got deeper and more sloppy. More desperate. Before long, you had to pull away because your lungs were burning for air. His forehead rested against yours as both of your chests heaved for air.

“You made me realize that I could care for someone Y/N. You made me realize that I could love someone.” He said, playing with a strand of your hair nervously. A smile broke onto your face as you gave a small laugh.

“I love you as well, Ivar.” You said before pulling him in for another kiss.

***

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS

Thanks for reading! Comment or message me if you want to be tagged in anything.

@youbloodymadgenius

@angelofthorr

@pieces-by-me

@krissyclayton

@xceafh

#ivar fanfic #Ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #healer #sage #witch #vikings #hvitserk #bones #pain #kiss #make out

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issamhysa · 4 years

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How would the catboys feel about a witch 🥺

Bjorn is pretty indifferent to it honestly. He just sits aside and lets you do your thing. Probably won't get too involved, but he'll get you materials and stuff if you ever need them.

Ivar ALWAYS watches you work. He'll ask questions all the time, sometimes to purposefully distract you, others because he's genuinely curious. He's interested in blood rituals and sacrifices and anything related, so don't let him near any bunnies or small animals. Please.

Hvitserk likes to watch you work on spells and make little spell jars, but there's a 99% chance he'll freak out whenever a candle flickers too suddenly or something. Speaking of which, don't let him near any of your candles. He'll try to put them out with his fingers and burn himself while you're in the middle of casting.

Ubbe's chill, he doesn't mind when you do it around him. In fact, he usually likes to sit and watch, maybe even participate if you give him the chance. He's curious about how it works, and puts your crystals by the windowsill in the event you forget to do so.

Ragnar is definitely super duper into it. You best believe he'd be sitting with you trying to get you to teach him stuff. You get him his own tiny cauldron at one point, and he CANNOT stop telling everyone.

Floki will act uninterested. He'll watch from a distance, but he refuses to participate. Unless your beliefs align with his, he'll let you do your thing and stay out of the way.

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hcrringtonshair · 3 years

Text

Road to Christmas Masterlist

If you have requests, want to read something special write me :)

No warnings for these needed. They‘re all just 24 fluffy pieces.

Main Masterlist

✧ • ✭ • ✩ • ✦ ✧ • ✭ • ✩ • ✦

Day 1 (Ivar)

Day 2 (Wanda)

Day 3 (Ubbe)

Day 4 (Steve)

Day 5 (Hvitserk)

Day 6 (Bucky)

Day 7 (Ivar)

Day 8 (Natasha)

Day 9 (Hvitserk)

Day 10 (Wanda)

Day 11 (Bucky)

Day 12 (Ivar)

Day 13 (Thor)

Day 14 (Ubbe)

Day 15 (Steve)

Day 16 (Ivar) (1/2)

Day 17 (Ivar) (2/2)

Day 18 (Ragnarssons)

Day 19 (Hvitserk)

Day 20 (Bucky)

Day 21 (Wanda)

Day 22 (surprise)

Day 23 (Natasha)

Day 24 (All)

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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 years

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Imaging # 533

Gif NOT mine.

Gif credit goes to - @whenimaunicorn

Year posted - 2020

#imagine #gif imagine #vikings x reader #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #vikings #vikings show #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar fluff #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless x reader #witch reader #i might write this

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dreamwritesimagines · 5 years

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Burn It Down 2- Before The Flames [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: Oh my God, my loves! Your comments, messages and 400 something notes on the first one made me feel so happy and inspired, I can’t thank you enough! I love you guys so much! <3

Summary: Trust cannot be earned with threats.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe, Bjorn, Hvitserk.

Warnings: Explicit language and depictions of violence.

Word Count: 1415

The road back to Ivar’s camp was silent. They’d had you mount on a horse before they you’re your hands and covered your mouth, as if making you silent could protect any of them from the curses they feared you could cast on them.

Only you knew how to protect them from your curses, and you were not willing to share that information, not anytime soon at least.

Besides, you had to admit, their fear gave you a sense of excitement.

You could still smell the blood washing the streets and the smoke rising from the city, burning your nostrils and your lungs but you refused to let that affect you.

Destruction had its strange beauty, tragic and sad, but still beautiful.

The camp side was not so far away, at least not on horse, and soon enough you reached there, the tents, the fire and the food welcoming your weary self and you looked around. Ivar got out of his chariot and Ubbe and Hvitserk jumped down from their horses, speaking in their mother tongue which sounded very foreign to you as the woman- Torvi, you had heard her name on the road- walked past them to a tent. Ivar pointed at a warrior, giving a curt demand in their language and nodding at you, then the warrior made his way to you, looking down as if he was scared of you as he helped you down from the horse.

“He brought a witch here?!” your head shot up when you heard your language being spoken but the man had disappeared into the tent before you could see who it was. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head slightly and followed the men to another tent, where some girls were emptying for you. You sat down on the ground onto an animal fur, trying to ignore their whispers and rolled your shoulders to get rid of the stiffness.

Alright.

So it was obvious you wouldn’t get a bed then.

You watched the last girl in the tent walk out and leave you there alone, then groaned and lied down on your back, the exhaustion crashing down on you. You tried to see a vision, any vision to help you to see what would come next, but before you could even focus on it, the sleep crept up on you, pulling you into its warmth. Normally, your sleep would be full of terrors, so much that you were used to getting up at least two times a night, but this time, you saw absolutely nothing until someone shook you by the shoulder, making your eyes open. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the haze of the sleep and glared up at the tall man with the long blonde ponytail. He helped you up into a sitting position, then pulled the cloth out of your mouth, making you move your jaw to reduce the pain.

“So you’re the witch my brother brought here?” he asked you, crouching down to your level and you tilted your head, arching a brow.

“You are not scared of me, Viking?”

“No,” his answer was simple, “I don’t. Are you scared, witch?”

“Why would I be?” you asked, “Your people are not very strong, are they?”

“Your king doesn’t agree with you.”

“Compared to me,” you corrected yourself with a sly smile, “I can smell their fear, did you know that? It’s lovely.”

“We have your city,” he said, “Your king has fallen. We have you as a prisoner.”

A small laugh you couldn’t stop escaped from your lips, “Oh is that right?” you asked, “That is what you think? You have me as your prisoner?”

He scoffed and nodded at your tied up hands, “Are you blind?”

“Are you?” you asked back, “Such naivety. You are my prisoner, Viking. You, and your brother, and your people. I hold the ropes, not you.”

He clicked his tongue, “I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” he said before he put the cloth into your mouth and pulled you up so that you could stand. You glared at him, fuming out of your nose but let him steer you out of the tent to a bigger one which made you think it was Ivar’s tent. Your suspicion was confirmed when you stepped inside and saw the rest of his brothers in a deep conversation with him, but they stopped as soon as they saw you.

“She is very talkative.” The blonde one said and Ubbe shook his head slightly,

“Bjorn….”

“I doubt she holds any danger.”

“I’m sure she holds danger.” A strange man said, making you look at him, “A witch, Ivar?”

“She says I’m already cursed by her.”

“Then kill her.”

“Did you not hear me, Harald?” Ivar said, “She says I’m cursed. If I kill her, the curse will not be lifted,” he eyed him up and down, “I am assuming it is something you do not want. Or do you?”

“I’m not your enemy, Ivar.”

Bjorn rolled his eyes and Hvitserk looked between you,

“You’re sure you want to talk to her alone?” he asked and Ivar nodded, biting inside his cheek. You raised your brows as Bjorn took the cloth out of mouth again, then one by one they left the tent, until you were alone with Ivar. You looked around, then made your way to the table and pulled yourself a seat, ignoring Ivar’s puzzled glances.

“I didn’t say you may sit.”

“Nor did I say you may speak,” you stated, reaching out to grab a piece of meat and a cup of water. Ivar gawked at you for a while, then managed to pull himself together.

“A lot of people think I should kill you.”

“You may try. You would follow me fast.”

“Or lock you up somewhere.”

“I would wither,” you said, “So would you. All things considered, Ivar, you have more to lose than me.”

“Enlighten me.” He said slowly, as if humoring you and you narrowed your eyes, locking his gaze in yours with a small smile on your face,

“Do you know what would happen?” you said, “If you died, right now. In your sick bed. No glory, no battlefield, no Valhalla. Do you know what they would say?”

He stayed silent, not averting his gaze,

“You’ve created so many enemies for yourself,” you said, “If you fell sick, if they saw any weakness, they would attack you, and your land. You have a great army, you have ships, you have people’s nightmares working for you, but you are not the most terrifying thing in the world.” You shrugged, “The betrayal does not put distance between you and itself.”

“I will be betrayed?”

“Numerous times.”

“By my brothers?”

“By someone close,”

“But you will not tell me who?”

“No I will not.” You said, “I will help you when the time comes, though.”

Ivar gritted his teeth, his glare sharpening, “I could make you tell me with enough pain.” He growled, the threat laced in his voice and your head shot up, the fury spreading through you,

“Let me make myself clear,” your voice dropped, reminding you of a hiss, “I do not take threats kindly. You will show me respect. You will not tie me as if I’m a prisoner, as if I’m below anyone here. I am not here to be treated as such, I am more than what you and your swarm of savages can ever comprehend. Threaten me again;” you eyed him up and down, “And I shall squeeze your heart until darkness claims you. I shall make the shadows swallow you and your people, and there will be nothing left of you for people to remember, except your screams.”

Ivar stared at you as if that was the first time somebody was threatening him, making you lean forward on the table, your gaze unwavering.

“Do we understand each other, Ivar?”

He nodded slowly, a flash of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on crossing his eyes, then you grabbed your cup and raised it a little, smiling slightly.

It took him a moment to react. For a second, you thought he would refuse, he would order you to be taken outside, to your tent.

But for the first time, the words that left his lips weren’t an order or a threat.

“What is your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated your name as if he was trying it on his lips, “We do understand each other.”

Then he held up his own cup, and crashed it against yours.

***

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crystalpistol · 5 years

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Hvitserk often relived memories of you in his dreams at night, waking up to plan another elaborate trap to capture another glimpse the following morning. The Witch that inhabited the forest outside Kattegat, a young woman who had supposedly graced the outskirts of the village for as long as it had existed.

Some accounts detailed you as being old and weathered, while others claimed you were child-like in appearance. The first time Hvitserk saw you with his own eyes, you appeared just how he liked his women - young, beautiful and completely naked. Twigs and leafs tangled into your hair and your face was caked with dirt.

You looked as if you hadn’t bathed a day in your life, but as you passed him through the forest from a distance, he noticed it was only your face that was soiled, the rest of your body and even your bare feet left untouched.

When he returned home to his family with his exciting tale, his brothers all accused him of lying while his mother seemed concerned. She asked for more details, strange details that Hvitserk definitely wouldn’t have noticed, but somehow could recall.

“What did she smell like?” Aslaug’s hands trembled in her petite lap and she could not bring herself to raise her head to look at her son. “Fresh soil and sea water.”

“Sea water?” Ivar leaned forward, shoving his plate out of the way and propping his elbows on the table. “What did she look like, brother?” Hvitserk smirked and mimicked his brother’s posture. "She has the face of a feral woman.”

Ubbe couldn’t help but glance at his brother, intrigued himself in the topic. “And her body?”

“Sculpted by the Gods.”

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multific · 1 year

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Grown to Love You

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: mention of smut, murder, kidnapping and obsessive behaviour

Summary: He finds you during a raid. Ivar the Boneless has to have you.

You were all alone and scared when his men found you and brought you to him. One asked if he could have you, but Ivar wanted you for himself.

He loved the fire and hatred in your eyes.

In the beginning, he kept you in his home, he could tell your masked your fear with anger as you tried many times to escape, but you always failed.

Then one day, something happened.

You were just sitting there on the floor. Not cursing at him, not throwing things. Was this your new technique to escape? A new plan perhaps? Pretending that you gave up?

"What are you looking at?" you asked as he kept staring.

"That is not how you talk to your King." but you said nothing, no snarky comeback, you didn't spit at him or kick him. You just sat there, chains around your hands as you looked at the fireplace. He moved from his bed, crawling over to you, much like how he had done before.

You slowly turned and looked at him.

"What is your new plan?"

"I have no plans. Even if I get out of here, I have no home to go back to, you burned my house." he watched your eyes, took him a moment to realize, your fire was gone. No fear, no hatred, no anger.

He won.

You gave up.

"You are mine. You have been since the moment I saw you." his hand moved to lower your dress from your shoulder and kissed your skin.

"Why didn't you touch me before then? If I'm yours?"

"I will never force myself on a woman,"

"You can't even walk."

"Which is why you will have to please me."

"And if I refuse?" a hint, a slight hint of the fire came back for a second before you let out a sigh because as you looked at him, you realized he didn't mean it, the smile on his face and the eyes told you.

"My grandmother warned me about men with blue eyes. She said she had a dream that one day, a man like that would take me and I will be lost. She said it was as if I walked into the darkness. She couldn’t see me after that." you tugged on your chains. "You haven't been as bad to me as I thought you will be. I thought you would... force me, beat me and kill me. But you fed me and kept me warm. Sure, you didn't give me a bed-"

"I told you to sleep next to me."

"How can you be sure I wouldn't kill you?"

"I have sharp senses. I am a warrior." his eyes continued to just watch your every move. "Agree to become my wife and you will have a great life."

"Wife?"

He nodded. "You will become Queen, you will become fully mine. Not my pet, but my woman. You have nothing to go back to, no one to return to."

"You killed everyone... so I'd stay with you?" he nodded. His eyes shone with something you didn't know, obsession.

"Your beauty is captivating, I was sure you are a witch. So beautiful and gentle. I saw it in your eyes. And now, you finally gave into me. I will take you as wife, marry me and you will have a life filled with love and care."

Your grandma was right, looking into his eyes, you walked right into the darkness, right into his arms.

He was obsessed and you were lost.

---

Couple months had passed since you were wed to Ivar.

Living the life of a Viking, you tried your best to understand their traditions and follow their life style.

But it was challenging.

So much so, that when a man commented on it, you saw a side of Ivar you have never seen before.

"What did you say?" Both you and Hvitserk looked at Ivar and then at the man. Ivar was way too calm.

"I said, your Queen is a whore! She is not even a true Viking!" the man was drunk, and probably didn't even realize what he was saying.

One second the man was laughing, clearly not reading the room as everyone sat, frozen. The next moment the man was on the floor with an axe piercing his skull.

"Does anyone else have any comments to my wife?" no one moved, no one took a breath. Ivar started laughing.

You continued to eat.

Hvitserk shook his head before grabbing more wine.

"You defended my honour." you turned to Ivar as he sat to take of his armour.

"I have done that before, you just weren't present."

"Thank you."

"We have been married for months, you know I have deep feelings for you, of course I would defend you."

"I have never seen you so unhinged, so angry yet so calm, everyone was scared of you, I could feel their fear. Everyone was scared, while I was extremely aroused." this made Ivar look at you immediately. Now, topless, only wearing his trousers, he watched you, you shocked him. "You are incredible Ivar. You are so strong, people used to call you a cripple, now they fear your name and I truly realized that tonight. I am married to a true King, and My King, I wish for you to breed me tonight." lust filled your eyes.

Ivar swallowed, he watched you just standing there before you slowly brought your hands up to your shoulders, you moved your dress down as you turned, he didn't see your front, he saw your naked back. You moved onto the bed, watching him as you knelt on the furs.

"Please." your plea was barely audible, but it made him move.

Like a starved beast, he crawled over to you, meeting him halfway on the bed, your lips found his as his hands began to grab at your flesh.

Oh, how he loved this side of you.

You might play an innocent maiden when people were around, but truth was, when the moon was on the highest point of the sky, in the middle of the evening, Ivar could see your true side. You were possibly a siren, on top of him, moving up and down his shaft switching between slow and fast, your pace was always perfect.

His hands grabbed your flesh, everywhere he could reach, thighs, hips, or breasts.

Anything he could reach.

But you loved it the most when he sat up, meeting your lips as you still moved on top of him, his hands on your back as his lips were on yours, teeth pulling your bottom lip before moving to your neck and breasts.

Every evening, his room smelled of sex and fire.

You laying beside him, with your head on his chest, your finger making patterns on his skin as his arm was around your shoulder or hips. pulling you closer if that is possible.

Yes, he was obsessed with you, and yes you lusted for this man. He might have taken you from your home, trapped you and forced love out of you, but you were still here, swore to love him until your last breath.

"Do you think it worked?" he asked and you had a feeling what he meant.

"I believe, if your God is kind to us, then yes. We might have a child soon."

"Odin is great, I'm not sure if I can have children."

"Why wouldn't you? Your legs never stopped you from spilling your seed in me before. You worry for nothing Ivar, but even if tonight wasn't enough. I will never give up the hope of gifting you a child."

He smiled as you looked up at him, placing a kiss on his chin.

"I can see you with a daughter. She would make you chase her around the room, you would kill anyone for her, she would be perfect."

"Your imagination is quite something, My Love."

"I can also see you with a son. Teaching him your strategies, how to fight and survive, how to be a warrior. Only one child?" you asked.

"As many as you would give me." he replied.

"A lot of children. I would like that, it would mean when you leave for raids, I wouldn't be lonely." He looked into your eyes, seeing his blues as you smiled. You always spoke of such futures, he felt he wasn't good enough to be in them.

Having a lot of children with you was something he didn't even dare to dream about, and yet here you were. Your eyes shining with love and affection as you spoke of possible children with him.

"I love you." he whispered as you felt his palm on your back, pulling you in for a kiss.

"I love you too, My King." You kissed him on the lips, running your hand through his hair as you soon fell asleep with him.

You woke not long after, you were incredibly thirsty so as quietly as you could, you made your way to get some water. You put on a short gown, which you often slept in.

On your way back to the bed you saw possibly the most amazing view. Nothing could compare.

A naked Ivar, surrounded by furs as the fire made his skin glow.

His features relaxed as he slept on his back, one arm next to his head, the other laid out, waiting for your return.

Your eyes roamed his chest, running over his tattoos and muscles before you moved your eyes further down, although his cock, which always gave you great pleasure, was hidden under the furs, and your eyes longed on the visible bump before moving back up, the fur was dangerously low, making you thirsty for something other than water.

Ivar was a work of art. You were convinced he didn't even realize how tempting he was.

He moved ever so slightly in his sleep. AS if his subconscious was looked for you, his arm twitched, begging for you to return.

And you did. You moved back on the bed, right where you left from.

Oh, how you wished his seed took, gifting him a child would make you the happiest. You know you had to dissolve every doubt in his mind, but you were ready for the challenge.

You went back to sleep as his arm moved back to your waist. Slightly pulling you close as he let out a long sigh.

You drifted back to sleep.

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kaynothanks · 2 years

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Blue Blood and Hollow Bones | 2

Ivar The Boneless x Witch!Reader

Part 2 of Dark Souls & Red Magic

Summary: Vikings were a greedy breed. Strength, land, gold, silver, women. They wanted it all. Only what happens if they get their greedy hands on the wrong woman.

With Ivar enchanted by your all, you try learning more about the cunning Viking leader, just like he was trying to find out as much about you as you would let him. Yet, he didn’t even know your name.

Warnings: a breeze of angst (cause I love that stuff), a bit of smut, king!Ivar, teasing (I mean… come on… everybody wants it), bloodthirsty!Ivar (yum), possessive!ivar, war, BLOOD (blood-play but not really?), knives, death, naked-ness, rituals, tension (duh), a bird being hurt (sorry…)

Word-Count: +16.2k

Talk of war was never something that you thought of as interesting. Neither was it something you wanted to spend your precious time on. Still, listening to the Vikings talk about the war was the only thing you seemed to be doing all day long. You knew what they had planned. Winning back their hometown and getting their revenge on their father's first wife Lagertha. Hvitserk and Ivar both stood at the front row of the table, as figurines were spread in front of them, which were meant to represent their armies. Ivar was the only one who kept insisting on killing this strange woman that you had never met.

It was strange indeed. You had seen her time of death, yet you had never gotten the chance to look into her eyes. You didn’t want to partake in whatever they were planning on doing to those people. They were all Vikings and if you had understood correctly, they would be fighting their own family. It was a war of brothers in every sense. Not only had Harald's brother Halfdan decided to lift his blade against his brother, but also Ubbe and the oldest son of Ragnar Lothbrok, son of Lagertha, Bjorn Ironside.

You had spent only a few days and nights under the Vikings, who had declared their faith in Ivar to lead them into battle. But even after this little time, had you heard stories of great bravery. Ragnar Lothbrok was said to be the greatest Viking of all time, while they murmured Bjorn Ironside to carry the spirit of a hundred bears in his blood.

It didn’t take a lot of brains to notice the jealousy brooding in Ivar's body when his eldest brother was mentioned. He loathed him. Maybe it was because he was the one his father spent most of his time with. Maybe it was because he was "whole" or perhaps it was because Bjorn was said to be most like his father.

You were watching in boredom, as Ivar and Heahmund played a game of Hnefatafl. Ivar had taught you how to play, but after losing a few times against him, you had lost interest in playing. Ivar was talking to the bishop about Bjorn and Lagertha, seeing as the bishop was the only one, who hadn't been allowed to visit the strategy sessions. You probably wouldn’t have been allowed there either, if Ivar hadn't made up the image of you just being a thrall. It was something you loathed – having to fill their cups of mead and abide by their every wish, but it was better than what would happen if they found out what you were actually capable of.

However, because of your attendance at the strategy sessions, you knew that they had no good strategy at all. Now, you weren’t one who understood war, but you understood what it meant to be smart. And whatever the Viking warriors came up with, was neither smart nor thought through. They didn’t see the whole picture. They saw what they wanted – slaughter and victory.

You were sitting at the steps of the throne, a knife and an apple in your hand, while three of Ivar's trusted warriors stood guard around the table where the game took place. Hvitserk on the other hand had chosen to take a seat away from you as far as it was possible, being sat at the table closest to the door. He didn’t trust you, nor did he like you very much as you had gathered.

Heahmund took away another of Ivar's white figures, making the Vikings sigh in anger – maybe frustration. His eyes ran over the board, grinning when he knew what his next move would be, ere he moved one of his white figures to his liking.

"Where will you fight?" The bishop questioned, waiting patiently for an answer.

"I do not know," Ivar replied after a beat of quiet, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "Perhaps they will blockade themselves in Kattegat. The main town."

"That," the bishop started, moving his arm over the board, to reposition one of his black game pieces. "Would be foolish."

You rolled your eyes, knowing Ivar had worked up to this the whole time. He had told you about his plans in the morning, to ask the bishop for help, but he didn’t want to seem desperate, wanting to make it seem like the bishop was the one, who actually caused the shift in his opinion. "Maybe you can help me think of a strategy."

The bishop laughed. "You would trust me to do that? Even though I do not care which side wins?"

"Ah," Ivar sighed, shaking his head slowly from side to side. "But you want to win. I see that." He extended his arms, looking at his guards. "And I want to be around people who want to win. What they do afterward, who cares?"

"The fact is, I will only fight for you because I am certain, as certain as I can be, that God wishes me to do so."

You stood from your spot, cutting a piece from the apple, ere you took it between your teeth. With slow steps, you moved around the Great Hall. Ivar immediately took notice of your movement, sending his warriors a quick look, to let them know, they should leave the room.

"Then you believe, like us, that you are fated, huh?" Hvitserk questioned, staring at Heahmund with interest in his eyes.

"No. I still believe I have free will. I chose, I will fight for you."

"Hmm," you mused, letting your hand glide through one of the flickering candles, the flame tickling your skin in the most comfortable way. "I seem to remember you talking about your god and how he set out a way for you, did you not?" Before he could answer, you turned to them, the flame still in your hand. Aware that no one had told Hvitserk you were a witch, you hid the flame in your hand with your body. "I hear you pray every day for him to lead you on in spirit and whatever." You moved closer to them. "How much free will do you think you really have?" Your arms leaned on the table besides Ivar, who hid his smirk behind his folded hands, his elbows, too, resting on the wooden table.

"Ivar, maybe you should control your thrall."

"Mind your own business," you hissed back. You had enough of them treating you like a slave. No other warrior was present, Heahmund was aware of your kind and perhaps it was time for Hvitserk to get to know the real you.

"Mind your tongue before I cut it out," he said, standing from his spot.

"Oh, yeah?" You said grinning, nodding at him like you were actually agreeing. "You couldn’t if you tried, heathen." For the bishop, this was probably pure enjoyment, since, for him, you both were heathens. In a matter of seconds, you had sent the flame on your skin towards the candle besides Ivar's brother, making the flame grow tenfold. Startled he moved back. You took the few seconds of disorientation he was witnessing and pulled out your knife, ready to throw it in his direction, but a hand wrapped around your wrist.

Ivar tutted at you, giving a minimalistic shake of his head. "Come on, little witch, where are your manners?" When he noticed that you wouldn’t let go of the blade, he lifted his other arm, taking the knife out of your grip, putting it in his belt.

"We had an agreement or have you forgotten already?" You ripped your wrist from his grip, hands balled to fists. "Never did you say anything about me having to put up with this," you said, moving your hand in Hvitserk's direction for clarification. "I also do not seem to recall agreeing to act as a slave to you and your men."

"Nam sicut servus es diaboli. Mundabit hanc terram dominus a tuo genere, et nefandam maleficarum stirpem intercludit." (For you are a slave of the devil. The lord shall cleanse this land from your race, and cut off the abominable offspring of witches.)

Your head snapped towards the bishop. You had known he was fluid in the holy language, but you had never heard him use it for anything but prayers. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, I am certain you heard me."

You felt like Ivar, as your own nostrils flared in rage and your lips curled in hatred. With your torso you leaned further over the table, slamming your hand down in front of him, making the game pieces shake and fall. "You better start praying to your god to let you into heaven, because I will kill you the first chance I get."

The room had quieted down so much, that you were sure something was bound to happen – only nothing did. It stayed silent until Ivar's amused breathing could be heard. "Isn't she a delight?"

If it wasn’t for the door of the Great Hall to swing open, you would have jumped over the table and choked the holy spirit out of this damn bishop. It would have pleased you greatly to test the actual abilities of his said warrior-existence. You had never once in your life been in a non-verbal fight, but you knew hatred could be a powerful weapon.

Startled by Harald entering, Ivar pulled on your arm, canceling out your balance, which landed you on your behind on the bench beside him. The bishop had taken to putting the figures back onto the board, remembering exactly where they were. Hvitserk was still standing as surprised as ever at what had happened with the candle flame, his eyes darting around the room until they found yours. You flashed him an arrogant grin, letting your tongue glide over the upper front row of your teeth. You would have liked to make a comment at Hvitserk about the confused look on his face, but instead were caught off guard, when Ivar's fingers found your neck, turning your head to him with his thumb pressing into your cheek. He pulled you to him, his eyes hushing over to the bishop, who had focused on Harald and another Vikings entering the Great Hall. "We need him, so I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from threatening the bishop," Ivar whispered, his warm breath hitting the skin of your neck. If you had any less self-control, you would have given into the shudder that was bound to curse through you.

"No, we do not," you gave back, taking his hand away from your cheek. Still, you didn't make a move that would signal him, you were uncomfortable with his touches. Over the last few days, they had gotten more frequent and with every brush, his touch became softer, more caring. "He is but one single warrior. He will not change what is fated to happen. You will win back Kattegat, but he will not be the reason."

The man Harald was with left and you pulled away from Ivar completely, moving from your seat back into the shadows, where Harald wouldn’t take much notice of you. Yes, he had gotten a new, beautiful queen recently, but that hadn't stopped him from eyeing you and other thralls.

Harald grinned happily, as he poured himself a cup of mead, and Hvitserk, too, seemed to snap out of whatever haze he still was in, taking his seat at the far table once again. "What is the matter with you?" Ivar questioned, not used to Harald looking happy.

The Viking chuckled, the candlelight shining on his tattooed face. "I'm going to be a father." He lifted his cup. "Skol."

Hvitserk lifted his cup back at Harald, who was already retreating to the back of the Great Hall, where his chambers were, while Ivar turned his head back to the direction of the bishop, his mouth opened in a small gape. "Huh," came his reaction quietly from the back of the throat and you instantly knew, that the new information was bothering him. The bishop took one of his black figures, moving it on the board with determination, taking away the only white figure that remained in the midst of the game. Ivar's face screwed up in annoyance. He licked his lips, moving his head back. "Hm."

Not too long after did Ivar insist on retreating to his cabin. You hadn't made it very far, as footsteps sounded behind you and Ivar. Hvitserk cut you both off, refusing to move away from in front of you. "Is there not something you think you should tell me?"

Ivar looked to the side, a thoughtful look on his face like he was really searching his head for some lost information. "No, not at all."

"You do not think you should have told me that your thrall is a witch?"

"A witch?" Ivar questioned in confusion. "What are you talking about?" His voice sounded through the streets like it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

"Do not play your games with me, Ivar." Hvitserk stepped closer to his brother. "I heard what you called her and I know what I saw."

"Up to this day, she has refused of telling me her name. Therefore, I do not know what to call her." Ivar shrugged. "And what exactly is it, that you saw?"

"Stop this, Ivar," Hvitserk demanded, but you knew Ivar wouldn’t let his game go. "You saw her doing just as I did."

"I'm afraid I do not know what you are talking about," Ivar replied, innocence written all over his face, expressed through his big eyes. "Are you alright, dear brother?"

"Maybe some bedrest would do you well," you commented, copying Ivar's expression, until Hvitserk let out an angry sigh, moving by you, but not without hitting his shoulder against Ivar's. Side by side Ivar and you strolled by the cabins until you reached the one that Harald had assigned to him for as long as his stay was going to be. Ivar limped forward, going for the bed straight away, wanting to rest his paining legs. He felt so useless in moments like this, but after all, he didn’t want you to see in how much pain he actually was. He hated your ability of unmasking the truth about people because there was little, he could hide from you.

A frown rested on your face as you shrugged off your cloak, playing with it in your hands. Ivar observed your behavior, watching you for a few seconds. "What is it you are thinking about?"

"I truly do not think Harald is going to be a father."

"Why would you think that?" Ivar's head tilted to the side just a bit. "Do you think Astrid lied to him about her being with child?"

"No, that would be stupid," you answered, putting the cloak on one of the benches beside the fire. "I think she was lying about him being the father."

"What makes you think that?"

"Ivar, like I told you…" You started, moving towards him. "I know-"

"Things about people," he finished for you, grinning up at you from his position on the bed. "I remember." He pulled your knife from his belt, holding it out to you. You reached for it, but he pulled it back, still grinning. "Little witch."

"Ivar." You stepped forward, in between his legs, noting how he watched you with a close gaze.

"I want to know your name," he spoke softly, as his left hand moved to the back of your thigh, about to work its way under the skirt of your dress. You let out a tsk, moving to sit on his lap instead, your hand reaching out for the knife, which he held farther away from you. "Looks like I will be keeping your knife."

"Are you holding my blade hostage?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow, shifting in his lap for a more comfortable position, as your hands glid over his chest to his shoulders.

"Why will you not tell me?"

You sighed, letting your hand run through the hairs at the back of his neck, silently playing with them. He gave a squeeze to your thigh, making you roll your eyes. This conversation had happened more than enough. With Ivar, it could come at any time in any form or variety. "Ivar," you huffed, wanting to move off of him, but he kept his hold on you. "How many more times will I be forced to tell you?" Noticing his petulant gaze, your eyes ran over his peevishly contorted face before you rested your forehead against his. "When the time is right, Ivar, I will speak my name to you – for you and only you, Ivar." You pulled back, so you could look him in the eyes. "You do not want to get me cursed, do you?"

"How would that happen?" He questioned, the tone of his voice rising, an annoyed look on his face. "It is not like I know so many other witches, that are just waiting to put a spell on you."

"Hm," you made, mocking thoughtfulness. "And I thought you had a whole gynaeceum set up full of them somewhere on one of the ships." With your mouth, you moved to his ear. "Besides," you whispered. "I like when you call me little witch."

His nose screwed up, one of his hands gliding to your hair, pulling you back, so he could look at you. "You make me so very angry."

"Good," you answered, staring back at him, with your eyes falling from one of his to the other. The blue where the white sclera was supposed to be was making goosebumps rise on your skin. "Anger is a gift." Ivar halted, like a man paralyzed, as he simply stared up at you. "What is it, Ivar?"

"My father once told me the same thing."

"He was a smart man, I gather."

"He told me to be ruthless, too." He was silent for a heartbeat, followed by a certain distance laying in his blue orbs. "My brothers resent me for it."

With your hands you embraced his face, bringing his attention back to you. You marveled at the way the dull lighting in the room accentuated his features, making him look oh so devious. "There is a simple explanation for it." You leaned in, kissing him slowly. His grip on your hair tightened. With a sly smirk, you pulled back. "They could never archive the things you do, Ivar."

You shifted on his lap, joining your lips once more, deepening the kiss, until a throaty groan fell from his mouth into your own. He went to grip your hip, wincing when he moved his legs in the wrong way. You moved back, scared you were the reason he was hurting.

"It is nothing to worry about, little witch," he told you upon seeing the concern on your face. "No more pain than any other day."

"You should let me help you, Ivar." You took his hand off of your hip, cradling it in yours. "The spell doesn’t require much. I am a strong witch, Ivar. Magic comes naturally to me. I promise you I will have no trouble performing the spell." The look on his face made you conclude that he was thinking hard about your words, while you were waiting with hope prodding in your chest.

"How long will it last?"

"Depends on the witch," you answered, grinning brightly. "Usually up to two days. I could make it last up to six."

"Won't you need a lot of your blood?"

"Not that much, actually." You moved off of him, starting to walk around, trying to remember all of the things you needed for the spell, and planning on where you would get them. "I will need a living bird, though."

"A living bird?"

"Yes, that is a bit of a tricky part," you pointed out, thinking quietly. "You do not happen to have a bow and arrow laying around here somewhere, do you?"

Ivar grumbled. "They are on the boats, except…"

"Except what?"

"Hvitserk has one with him. He is trying to improve his aim, which he should. He is no better than average."

"Fine." You nodded. "I'll get it."

"You?" Ivar's eyebrows rose. "Little witch, I do not know if you took notice, but my brother does not quite like you."

"Oh, thank you, Ivar," you replied, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "By his behavior towards me, I thought him to be in love with me."

"Now, that would not be wise of him, would it?"

You grinned back at Ivar. "I will be back in a bit. You can start gathering some candles." Before he could reply, you had grabbed your cloak and had closed the door of the cabin behind you. Your legs stepped with certainty as you followed the trail to Hvitserk's cabin. You just were glad, that they had moved the bishop to where Harald kept his "prisoners" when he had some. The cells were empty, only Heahmund present at this time. You had kept your head down while walking, knowing better than to draw extra attention to yourself, stopping in front of the cabin. After knocking, you waited patiently, looking around at the Vikings who were going on about their day, while the sun was slowly beginning to set. You had almost thought Hvitserk not to be in his little hut for, but a creak sounded from the inside, making your doubt vanish.

The door swung open, revealing a messily-looking Hvitserk. His shirt was hanging from his shoulders, the armor nowhere to be seen and you could faintly make out the smell of mead coming from him. To be fair, most Vikings here carried that smell with them. "What do you want?"

"Delighted to see you, too, Hvitserk." You cleared your throat. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to anger him when you were about to ask him for a favor. "Would you be as kind as to lend Ivar your bow and some arrows?"

One of his eyebrows went up in suspicion. "And what does Ivar want with my bow?" He knew.

"Fine," you said. "You want the truth?" You suddenly stepped forward, pushing him back into his cabin, and loudly pulled the door closed, without turning away from him. "I am a witch and I would not mind performing one or two spells on you, which would put you in your place."

He took on a defensive stance in an instance. "Is this how you got Ivar to trust you? You put a spell on him?"

"Oh, please," you hissed. "Your brother is no fool. He is just simply smart enough to know, which people he needs to become great."

"And you think he needs you to be great? We were just fine before you came along."

"Oh, and I will make sure he is just fine after you are gone." He was about to say something but you stepped forwards once again, forcing him further back. "What is it you think you bring with you that makes you oh so special, dear Hvitserk? Huh?" You stared up at him, not finding an ounce of care in you, that he was looking down at you. "I will let you in on a little secret, Hvitserk, that even Ivar isn't aware of – yet, at least. With the right… sacrifice my powers are almost limitless. Take control of the minds of your enemies? Easy. Burn whole villages with the snap of my fingers? Fine. Raise an army as dead as the ones will be who stand against us? Done." Your eyes glid to the movement of his hand, which was slowly inching towards the axe hanging from his hip. "Don’t be stupid. I won't hurt you. I doubt Ivar would appreciate it, just like he wouldn’t appreciate seeing me hurt." You gave a small clap of your hands and stepped around him, towards the bow, which was leaning on the wall beside his bed. "You know Ivar and you know what he would do if he knew what I could do. I mean, come on. Imagine Ivar with a living dead army. Thousands of Vikings that couldn’t be hurt, couldn’t be killed." You picked up the bow, taking two arrows with you. "The world would be in flames within a few weeks."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we both know, why you are still here, even though you do not want to be." You turned back around. "You are here to make sure that Ivar does not go off shedding blood everywhere he goes, or am I wrong?"

"I am here because I care about Ivar."

"Do you?" You questioned, your head tilting to the side. "Because I think the person you care most about is yourself." You had to fight the grin that was trying to take over your face. "See, Hvitserk, I think you know what Ivar is capable of. You know he will win the war and he will become king of Kattegat. So, of course, you cannot imagine a cripple to last on the throne and who is going to take his place after your brother falls?" The hand that was holding the arrows tipped towards him. It was quiet after that. "Tell me I am wrong." A satisfied sigh left your throat when you left him speechless. "And I knew all of that just by looking at you. It is truly amazing how my powers work, is it not?" You gifted him with your most sympathetic smile and were about to leave his cabin when you stopped in front of the door. "I will not tell him."

"Excuse me?"

"I will not speak to him the reason you stayed by his side."

"Why?"

"Because I actually care about him." You looked over your shoulder. "I do not see me leaving anytime soon, so we should at least try to get along." You once again cleared the discomfort from your throat. "Shall we make a deal?"

He shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms, while his eyes glimmered with interest. "What kind of deal?"

"You keep an open mind towards me, throw away what you think you know, and get to know me and I will let you in on a little secret, which might satisfy you very much… or cause you great pain. I fear I do not know what your reaction will be. And I will be honest with you, about whatever you want to know."

He nodded with a shrug of his shoulders. "Fine, deal."

"Hvitserk, it will not be Ivar who takes Lagertha's life," you spoke softly. "It will be you."

"The war-"

"No," you interrupted him. "It will happen far after that. Things will have changed in ways no one imagined them to." You could feel all the different emotions running through him. He resented the new information, but at the same time, there was a small spark of pride, having taken the life of his mother's killer, which quickly vanished behind the fear of what his other brothers would think of him.

"What do you see in Ivar? He does not feel remorse, he is… cruel."

You felt a twinge in your chest. "When I look at him, truly look at him, when all his darkness has gone away… I see the part of me that Zeus separated me from at the beginning of life." Without another word you left him behind to stare at the empty spot at his door, not knowing what to do with his thoughts.

Again, you kept your head down, moving at the shadows, which were becoming more and more with every bit the sun moved down further. When you returned to the cabin Ivar and you were staying in, you could already see him, leaning against its door, his crutch tapping against the ground in a fast rhythm. "What took you so long?" He hissed, looking you up and down for any sign of blood seeping through your clothing, but he found none.

"Oh, you know," you shrugged. "As it turns out, I was right. Hvitserk has fallen deeply and unconditionally in love with me. He spent the main part of my visit showing me exactly how much he appreciated my being here."

He limped towards you, the corners of his mouth turned downwards, while his face was just as angry as when he had lost against the bishop in Hnefatafl. "Do you think this is funny?"

You gazed up at him when he was towering over you with his face mere inches from yours. "Oh, I find it greatly amusing." With a grin, you leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, ere you turned around and started walking towards the woods. Behind you, Ivar tried to push his infuriation down, his teeth lightly grazing his bottom lip for a second, as he mumbled a silent curse at you in Norse. He couldn’t put in words the ways you were able to make him feel. One moment he would feel like he was flying, the other his skin was prickling with how much you irritated him at times. You truly had him in the palm of your hand and he didn’t understand why he let you play with him the way you did. Perhaps it was because a twisted part of him liked it. It made him feel like he belonged - like he had found a missing part that had caused him all this misery when it was away all these years.

Ivar marveled at the way you moved. Your footwork was surprisingly exact and not once had he heard you step on a fallen branch. It was as clear as day that this wasn’t the first time you had hunted for an animal and he wondered what other things you had caught, so you could perform your magic.

"How often have you done this?" The question escaped his lips before he could stop himself. On the inside, he scowled himself for having this little self-control over his mouth.

You looked over your shoulder, before you turned to him completely, lowering the bow. "Hunted for birds?" You asked, even though you knew what he wanted to know. "Once or twice." Seeing a slight movement in the treetops behind Ivar, you lifted your bow. In seconds you had drawn an arrow and shot it. Ivar's eyes were wide as he ducked, even though the arrow was going nowhere near his head.

He panted in shock, as he stared at you in anger. "Have you lost your mind!?"

"No," you answered and walked past him, towards the white bird, that was pinned to the ground with an arrow stuck in its wing. Slowly you bend down, shushing the bird, as you removed the arrow and softly covered it with your cloak. With tender movement, you stroked its head. "Me paenitet, avicula," (I'm sorry, little bird) you whispered, so Ivar wouldn’t hear and question it, ere you started walking further into the woods.

While walking you picked up several sticks, five of the same size and many smaller ones. When you found a spacious spot, you stopped, looking at Ivar, before you handed him the bird, which was wrapped in your cloak. He watched you with curious eyes as you started laying the small sticks in a circle on the dirty ground. You yourself inspected the circle and when everything was to your liking, you started putting the longer sticks down too, until they formed the perfect star.

You moved over to him, taking the pack of candles, which he had in a cloth thrown over his shoulder. "Would you be as kind as to stand in the middle please?"

He was still unsure of what exactly was going on but still followed your instruction. The whole situation made him feel a bit like an idiot. He was standing in the middle of some sticks, holding a bird. "What is your need for the bird?"

"Birds," you started, as you put down the first two candles at the two closest corner vertices. "Have hollow bones." The next candle was set down. "The bird's bones will fill with the pain your bones are causing you."

"How does it work?"

You stopped the last two candles in your hands, staring at him like he really was an idiot. "It's magic." When you were finished putting everything on the ground, you went and searched for the right piece of bark, that would work as a bowl and hold your blood. You stepped up to him, grinning as you noticed how his breathing stuttered. "Ready?" You whispered, your noses almost touching, while your hand made its way along his hip.

His breathing hitched in his throat, his eyes still staring you down. "What are you-" He stopped the second he noticed, that you were only pulling your knife from him, which he had taken from you.

"Whatever you do, don’t step out of the circle." You could see the annoyance on his face as you pulled away from him, taking the bird that was wrapped tightly before you put it down. "Hold this," you mumbled, handing him the bark. "This might sting." Before he could react, you pushed away the leather he wore on his hand, which allowed his skin to be spared when he took to crawling, as you let the blade sink into his palm. He hissed quietly, watching you closely. "Unus sanguis," you breathed, holding his hand until you had enough of his blood. Carefully you stepped out of the circle, sinking to your knees slowly as not to spill any of the crimson liquid. "Duo sanguinum." The blade glid through your own skin. "Coniungo", you spoke, closing your eyes, feeling the wound close. Ivar too stared at his hand, the cut vanishing into nothingness. Not quite trusting his eyes, he turned his hand, testing if it looked the same from a different angle. There was nothing there but rough skin and a few drops of blood that stained his skin. "Dolor in ac dolor ex. Auferte dolorem." You unwrapped the bird, lifting it high, as the candles all around Ivar lit simultaneously. "Haec cava conplent ossa." The bird started croaking, flapping its wings, as you heaved it into the air. The bird flew into the circle. It was like an explosion of feathers as they slowly sank onto the ground. Ivar's eyes were so fixated on what was happening around him, he hadn't taken notice of the shift in the sticks. They transformed, shifting into two serpents, that moved around him in the same pattern that you had laid out, while the blood in front of you started clotting, forming one big clump, that was as hard as stone. "Cado."

Ivar's eyes grew a deep blue, as a shout of pain sounded from his lungs. You made quick work, taking the hard clump into your hand, bringing it down hard and fast, shattering it. His screams stopped, as he was left panting. His head slammed towards you, ready to shout at you for what you had done to him, but then he noticed what he was feeling in his legs. They felt… normal. There was no stabbing pain, nothing that would usually make him clench his jaw. "You could have mentioned it was going to hurt excruciatingly," he hissed.

"Must have slipped my mind," you mused and smiled while cleaning away the shattered pieces, searching for the heart of the stone. Hidden in sharp pieces of red was a black diamond as smooth as a still water's surface. You loosened the leather band with blue beads threaded on it, which a thrall had put on your head in the morning – a gift from Ivar which he never really took credit for, but you still knew it was him.

You shook the beads into your hand, ere you pushed them in the little pocket you carried around your hip, in case you came across any valuable herbs. With confident movements you bound the leather around the black diamond, making it into a necklace. "Do you see it is perfect?" You asked, walking up to him, the serpents moving out of the way, so you could step up to him. "With each day passing, the surface will crack a bit more and when it is broken completely, so is the spell."

"And what if it breaks by accident?" He asked when you were tying it around his neck.

"You could shoot an arrow directly at it and it would not break." Again, a grin snuck its way onto your face. "My magic is quite strong." Ignoring his staring, you kneeled and extended both of your arms, before clicking your tongue. The serpents followed your silent command, snaking themselves along your arm, while you stood. You made a simple movement with your hands, extinguishing the flames as you went to pick them up.

"Thank you."

You stopped in your tracks, not expecting the words to leave his mouth. Shaking your surprise off your shoulders, you cleared your throat, looking up at him. "My pleasure." One of the snakes moved from your neck to your waist, wrapping securely around it.

It was quiet. A few seconds where there were no unsaid words, just restless eyes and prickling skins until the moment passed. Ivar moved from his spot, starting to walk in the direction where you came from. "I shall visit the bishop tonight, before joining you, as tomorrow I will see my brothers again." You couldn’t see his face any longer, but you knew he felt deep betrayal.

You sighed, eyeing the serpent that had gotten comfortable around your shoulders. "He is quite something, no?" The snake hissed quietly, making you scoff. "Now, that was not very friendly of you, Aratus, was it?" He bumped his head against your cheek, rubbing at it affectionately. You rolled your eyes at the snake, gather the candles and your cloak, ere you started walking in the same direction as Ivar had mere minutes ago.

When you arrived, a thrall was preparing a bath for you and you smiled, knowing that even though Ivar was on his way to talk to the bishop, he found a thrall just for you, so you could have a few minutes of enjoyment. Knowing it wouldn’t look good for you, you hid the snakes before anyone could see, placing them in a crate, which held some of the clothes you were given. The thrall came back with the last two buckets, giving you a disgusted look when she was about to walk out again.

"Is there something you would like to speak to me about?" You asked, feeling irritation bubble up inside your chest. If there was one thing you could not tolerate, it was looks from people you didn’t know and who didn’t have enough courage to say something to your face.

"It sickens me to think you are bedding the cripple," she said and you had to pause, to really understand what she had said. "Aren't you yourself disgusted by your actions? I'd rather scrub the floor until my fingers are bleeding than fall to the pleasure of this-"

"If I were you, I would be very careful in what words are to leave your mouth, before it will be none ever again." Your blade suddenly felt exceptionally heavy hanging from your belt and your blood seemed to start boiling all on its own. Taking a few deep breaths, you turned around, starting to put away the candles, reminding yourself to stay calm.

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" She spat, letting out a laugh right after. "You are no better than me, just because you are spreading your legs!"

Your jaw clenched, while your hand glid along the edge of the blade, cutting the skin. "Derivare to meticulosa," you whispered, feeling how your face changed. Sharp snake-like teeth grew as black veins appeared all over your face and all of your eyes turned just as dark as the night sky.

"What was that?" She asked, as steps sounded behind you and you felt her getting closer.

"I asked," you started, turning around rapidly and gripping at her neck. "Scared yet?" She seemed to freeze for a second, not understanding what her eyes and all of her senses were telling her before she let out a blood-curdling scream. You let go of her and shook your head, making your features re-appear. Scared deeply, she lost her footing, falling onto her behind. "Now, tell me again," you spoke, standing over her. "What was it you thought of me and the person who soon to be a king?"

She scrambled to her knees, bowing in front of you, which had you raising your brows in confusion. It took you a second to understand that she probably thought of you to be a shapeshifter, one of her gods. Loki perhaps, maybe even Freya – there were not many of their gods that possessed the power to change their being. "My deepest apologies," she hushed, keeping her head down. "Please don’t hurt me."

"I won't," you said and took your knife from your belt. "But I'm sure you recall me telling you to keep your mouth shut before you would never speak a word again. And I am known to keep my word." You cut your thumb, turning her head to you, before your bleeding finger glid downward on her lips, stopping when you reached the end of her chin. "Sit sine voce," you hummed, as the blood turned into a permanent mark on her face. "Sileat in annos, donec dii misereant." (May she be silent for years to come, until her gods show her mercy) You pulled her to her legs, giving her a once over, while she was still cowering. "Leave," you hissed, hatred lacing your voice, as she hurried to scramble away.

When the door closed behind her, you took a deep breath, walking to the steaming tub of water, before you washed off the blood from your hands. You did quick work of undressing yourself and slipped into the dreamy warmth. A hiss sounded from the ground, as you extended your hand downward without looking, soon feeling the cool skin of a serpent. You picked her up, holding her over the water. "That was a nice spell, was it not?" You questioned, grinning when her tongue briefly flickered out of her mouth in a hiss. "Oh, Aceso, that would have been so bloody." Your nose scrunched up at the thought of Aceso's suggestion. "I do not know if I agree that her eating her own tongue would have been better, but she was miserably rude." A smile filled your face. "Maybe next time." Your eyes swept over to the second serpent, who was still cuddled by your clean clothing.

By the time Ivar came back, you had cleaned yourself and had made a makeshift bed for Aceso and Aratus. You were sitting on the bed, reading in one of the books you had saved in York, looking up some runes, you weren’t quite sure about anymore. Before Ivar had even entered the cabin, you could feel the fury radiating off of him, making you shift in your spot. "I see the bishop was as pleasant as ever, no?" Without a word Ivar sat on the bed, starting to undo the braces on his legs. "I will gladly tear of his fingernails if you want me to," you joked but still, he didn’t react. You moved off the bed, too, kneeling on the ground, wanting to help him in taking off the metal. "You should not listen to his foolish words. You had better concentrate on what is going to happen tomorrow."

Before you could get your hands on the cold metal, his hand caught yours. "I cannot help it when you are all I think about."

"This is why you are so angry?" Your face contorted in confusion. "He questioned whether or whether you won't succeed with me as a distraction, did he not?" When he stayed silent, you let out a low growl. "That man certainly has his way with words." You softly pulled your hand from his, letting your thumb glide over his skin. His expression remained grim. You brought your lips down on the back of his hand, looking up at him, as you let them graze his skin a second time, moving up an inch. His fingers threaded into your hair, making you rest your face in his palm before you once more pressed your lips to his skin. Faster than you had thought, he pulled you towards him, desperately catching your mouth with his. Your hands gripped at the back of his neck, as you moved onto his lap, your legs spread and pressing into the bed below. He pulled you closer by your waist, flushing his body against yours.

A moan escaped your mouth as his fingers pressed into your flesh and you moved your hips in return, forcing a groan to fall from his lips. "I think the bishop was right," you breathlessly grinned after you had pulled back a bit. "I do seem to be a great distraction to you."

"And yet, I cannot find it in the depths of my body to care." Again, he connected your lips, starting to open up the front of your dress, while you started unstrapping the leather vest, he wore almost every day. Next to leave his body was the shirt he wore underneath, followed by your dress. More and more items of clothing – and his braces - found themselves on the floor, until you both were engulfed by the warmth of the covers, sharing wordless moments, where nothing but each other's touch seemed to matter. Your bodies moved together in a song of pleasure until you both fell into a state of bliss.

Resting beside each other, you both were trying to calm your heavily beating hearts, while your chests seemed to rise and fall in sync. You turned your head, looking at him, unsure if now was the right time for your request. You shifted onto your front, resting your chin on his torso. "Ivar?" You asked sweetly, tracing along his tattoos with your fingers. He hummed in acknowledgment. "I want to be there tomorrow when you are meeting with your brothers."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it could be dangerous."

"Believe it or not, but I can well protect myself as you can protect yourself." You bore your chin into his tummy, making him flinch because it tickled him. "Also, we could scare them real bad."

"Hm, yeah?" He asked, lazily letting his fingers trail along your naked shoulder and along your arm. "How?"

You contorted your face in concentration, trying to make yourself look as intimidating as possible. "I can look scary."

His finger lightly tapped against your forehead, an amused smirk on his face. "Oh, yeah, I am deeply frightened."

"I can, though," you shot back, grinning. "You should ask the thrall. She couldn’t even tell you how much." Your mischievous smile was so wide and the glimmer in your eyes gave away, that something was going on in that head of yours, but he didn’t question it further, only jokingly narrowing his eyes at you. "Just imagine me riding beside you, like a dark cloud, with Aceso and Aratus on my shoulders."

"Who?"

"My serpents."

"You kept them?"

"Of course, I did," you answered, tilting your head to the side. "By the way, Aratus thinks you should smile more."

"You can talk to them?" He asked, his eyes growing in size.

"You really should stop being surprised at everything I do, Ivar." You sat up, swinging your leg over his hip. "So, I will be by your side tomorrow and when all the fighting begins, I will wait for you in camp and when you are victorious, I will be there to kiss the king of Kattegat."

"You could also kneel for the king."

You bowed down to him, putting your nose beside his. "I will kneel for no man, not even you, my king." Against your expectations on how you thought he would react, he only gifted you with a devilish grin, ere he pulled you down to him, seeking the touch of your lips. "I have a gift for you," you told him, sitting up.

His right eyebrow lifted, as he looked you up and down. "I can see that."

With a grin and a slight shake of your head, you swatted his shoulder, climbing off of him, to get your book, and then took your seat once more. "I want to give you some runes when you are going to go into battle." You laid your book out beside Ivar, grabbing your knife. On the inside you felt warmth, when he didn’t even flinch a tiny bit, that he had enough trust in you, to not be scared of whatever you were about to do to him – on top of him, with a sharp blade in your hands. Like always when you performed your magic, he watched you with a close, interested eye, as you slit your finger. The first rune you drew left on his chest.

"What does it mean?"

"Aurochs," you answered. "It stands for strength, independence, and will." The next you drew on the right side. "Yew. Stability, flexibility, and defense." Next, you moved to the middle. "Protection. It represents the elk sedge plant, power, and protection from enemies." You let your hand hover over the first rune, praying to your goddess that she would aid you in your request. "Corroboro," you breathed, watching as the first rune lit up like it was a branding iron straight out of the fire. You repeated the process two more times and then took your place besides Ivar, burying your head in his chest.

When you woke in the morning, Ivar was sitting at the edge of the bed, putting on his braces. His hair was disheveled, the braids messy from the events of the night prior. Your eyes wandered over the side of his face, taking in all the little things you had looked at so many times in the past few days. The little scar on his cheek, the bit of stubble on his face.

"I know you are awake."

You smiled, ere you wordlessly sat up and climbed up behind him. He let out a sigh when he felt your hands on his skin. You were on your knees, pressing against his back before you laid your head on his shoulder. With your hand, you started opening one of his braids and unknotting it, before you moved on to the next one. It was intimate on another level, bathing in each other's presence, while a feeling of warmth filled your core. Being here besides Ivar felt like you were on the right path.

When you were done with opening all the braids, you sectioned the hair off, starting to roll the hair into a braid close to his skull. It reminded you of all the times you would help your sisters with their hair and how you when you were younger, sat in a circle to do each other's hair.

You helped Ivar out on the leather armor piece he liked to wear, pulling the straps tight. Standing before him in nothing but the thin tunic, you watched him closely, as his eyes wandered over your body, taking it in, from head to toe, like he had never seen you before. He extended his hands, softly caressing the soft skin, before his fingers dipped underneath the tunic, pushing it up a bit, as he suddenly pulled you closer to him, making you stand between his legs. He nosed at your tummy, pressing his fingers harder against your skin.

"I'm going to make you my queen, little witch," he whispered, taking a moment to look up at you, scared of what your reaction would be. Instead of the frown, he had thought you would wear on your face, you starred down at him in astonishment.

"I do not think of me as a suitable queen," you replied after a few seconds had passed, which made a crease appear between his brows. "I do not know how to lead, nor do I know your kind."

"I think you very fit to be queen." He was still looking at you. "You are kind and you understand people without having to try. Also, you said you would not take the knee for any man, and if you did not kneel for me, I am going to have to kill you," he jested, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t think much of it. "Would be a waste, do you not think?"

You grinned and slapped his shoulder in a playful manner, as a shout sounded from the outside about a missing barrel. "I think they are about ready to leave."

He nodded and stood with the help of his crutch, letting his eyes wander over your face. "Get ready, little witch, there while I will be seeing to the bishop."

Now it was you who nodded, trying to stop your rapidly beating heart, as Ivar leaned towards you, joining your lips in a soft peck, which quickly turned into a kiss that left you breathless. His and caressed your cheek. "Pack the things you want to take, we will set sails soon enough."

He left after that, leaving you behind to gather the few things you did not want to leave behind. You dressed in a new white tunic, putting on a black dress over it. It had a lacing at the front, short sleeves, and ended just where the tunic ended, mid-thigh. You sighed when you started fastening the laces, tying a bow, ere you fixed how the slit at the front looked.

When you grabbed the dark grey breeches and slipped them on, Aratus slid out from the make-shift nest, wrapping around your ankle. You shooed him away when you were about to put on your boot, but he did not move. With a roll of your eyes, you set him on your shoulders, finishing getting dressed, ere you gathered all of your belongings and Aceso.

You made your way to the dock, looking for Ivar, who had already taken place on a box on one of the ships. He was talking to the bishop, who did not look happy to see the young Viking leader. "Heahmund," you hissed in greeting, moving to sit across from Ivar, pulling your cloak closed, so no one would notice the two snakes, who had taken their place on your body. The time spent on the boat was quiet, still, it was filled with tension oozing off of Ivar's mind.

When land was in sight and the unloading began, half of the Vikings started setting up camp and building fires to shield themselves from the cold winds. The thralls were about the only ones who stayed behind, besides a few dozen Vikings, who were needed in case the camp was attacked. The horses were saddled and Ivar's chariot was brought to the mainland.

"Little witch," Ivar spoke, approaching you, and the limp he usually was so prominently displayed, seemed to be almost gone. His hand extended towards you, when he was close enough, about to lay it on your waist, when he came in touch with Aratus, who was securely wrapped around you. With an irritated look, he pulled back, eyeing the serpent warily. He cleared his throat, pushing down annoyance he was feeling towards the snake, and put on a smile to cover it up. You knew the smile was not at all genuine, but you did not comment on it. "Come with me. I have a surprise for you." You followed him, walking beside him to the place where they had bound all of their horses. "Since you were so stubborn about coming, I presumed you would need a horse." He patted the nose of the only black horse in the row and looked at you, waiting for your reaction.

A smile rose to your face before you could stop it. "You got me my own horse?" You stepped closer to him, grinning from ear to ear. "That was very considerate of you. But won't your warriors need it?"

"They have feet," he said, his voice raising an octave when he shrugged his shoulders. "They can walk." His eyes fell to the snake on your waist, before he laid his hands on your hip instead. "If anything goes wrong, I want you to ride off as fast as you can, hide. I will find you."

"Oh, Ivar," you sighed, placing your hand on his cheek. "I'm sure it will be no trap. Your brothers wouldn’t do that to you. Everything will go just like you planned it, I'm sure."

"I just want you to be safe. I can’t stand the thought of letting something happen to you."

"You might not know this, but I am quite well at surviving. Besides-" You took the knife from your belt, cutting your thumb, ere you drew the magic rune just below your collarbone. "I have magic."

Harald let out a loud whistle, catching everyone's attention. "It is time." The Vikings gathered their weapons and shields meant to protect themselves, moving forwards into formation, while Hvitserk came up to the horses with the bishop on his heels, followed by Harald and his pregnant queen. Ivar looked at you once more, making sure that your decision was still the same, before he, too, climbed up onto his chariot.

Harald helped his queen up onto the horse, even though you were sure, she did not need his help at all and did not want it either, before he hoisted himself up onto the brown mare. You could feel the bishops gaze on you, as you climbed into the saddle, while you kept looking at Astrid. Something about her bothered you deeply. Feeling your stare, her darkly painted eyes, which matched your own, settled on you, but you kept your eyes on her until she looked away once more. Blinking yourself back into reality, you took the reins into your hands, you rode off after Ivar's chariot, which was pulled by a white stallion, to the very front of the formation. With a click of Ivar's tongue, the great heathen army started to march forward, following behind him, his brother, the self-proclaimed king and his queen, the bishop, and you.

The Vikings marched until the end of the forest came in sight and they stepped out into a far clearing. In the distance, you could make out an army, which was just a bit smaller than the one you rode in front of, but you had a feeling they kept some of their warriors in hiding. They couldn’t give away everything at once, after all. The flags they were carrying with them were a bright blue and flickered with the find, while the once Ivar's warriors carried was a light orange color. You took notice of all the grim faces until you landed on the man who had shown you kindness once before – Ubbe. And just like you remembered he still had some gentleness in his eyes, that you had seen in Ivar's only on rare occasions.

The blonde woman at the front moved her lips, but you could not understand her from the distance you were at until she nodded at two Vikings at her left, who at her command moved forwards on their horses. Just like Ivar had predicted, she wanted to exchange emissaries. Ivar lifted his finger, at which Harald and Hvitserk rode forward, to meet the other two men in the middle of the field. Ivar's murderous gaze laid on Lagertha and you knew, all he wanted was to rush forwards and take revenge on what she had done to his mother.

Upon closer studying the two men who had ridden forward, you noted that one of them had the same tattoos that Harald wore proudly on his face, while the other was broad-shouldered. He did not look similar to Ivar, Hvitserk, or Ubbe, only the stories you had heard about Bjorn Ironside let you know, that this was him. Firstborn to the famous Viking Ragnar Lothbrok. Your eyes moved back to Ubbe, who had set his gaze on you, with no intentions of taking it elsewhere.

You clicked your tongue, making the serpent move along your body until they snaked their way onto your shoulders. Their heads lifted as a hiss filled the air. Ivar turned his eyes to you, just like the rest of the Vikings who had heard the snakes. You lifted your hand, waving to Ubbe, as a small grin spread on your lips. Even from the distance, you could see their puzzled faces, as Lagertha turned to the second oldest son of Ragnar, who seemed to be unable to answer her questions.

When Harald returned with his brother Halfdan, Ivar and his army marched back to where you had set up camp. Nobody dared to speak out about the serpents on your shoulders, only blinking away their questions, as they most definitely knew about your association to Ivar and did not want to feel his wrath. Nor were there very keen on finding out why two serpents glid along your skin in a trance like they were merely an extension of your own body.

At camp, you were sitting around a small wooden table, which had slightly gotten rained on as it was transported under one of the hundreds of tents. Thralls had brought food and mead to the table before anyone was even sitting at it and you raised your eyebrows as to why the Vikings ate as often as they did. You wondered where they had gotten all of their meat from, in only such a short time, where the army was gone.

All around you, there were silent whispers, about what they had witnessed, mixed in with complaints about them not being able to fight, but instead having to sit around. You understood why they were complaining, Ivar had promised them a war, a bloody fight, and a chance to either enter Valhalla or win back their home, but what you did not understand was their desperation to kill their own kind. The Vikings ready to fight in the other army, were once their neighbors, their friends, and even family. The thought of having to fight your own family, made you swallow. Even though, you would have rather fought them for all eternity, if it meant they would not have died.

Ivar was sitting on a bench, turned away from Astrid, Halfdan, and Harald, who was feasting on the meal he had been given by the thralls, without a care about the words that were wandering through angry mouths all around him. His eyes bore into you, and you knew, but did not care to look at him. He did not understand, why you had so carelessly shown who you really were, for as you were always so worried about anyone finding out. He just simply did not understand you and it angered him in ways he could not put into words, even if he tried.

"This is madness," Halfdan said suddenly, while you stood at the edge of the tent just out of reach for the few raindrops that were falling, letting your eyes fall from tent to tent.

"Is it?" His brother shot back, picking up his wooden cup filled with mead. "You are here, where you belong. Don’t deny it." Harald shook his head. "Why would you fight for Lagertha or Bjorn? They are not your folk."

"Bjorn saved my life. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Not really," Ivar spoke, with a light shrug, making the corners of your mouth twitch upwards. "We all chose to live a dangerous life. That is part of our way. So, I think you give whatever happened between you and Bjorn, too much importance."

"Family has a greater claim," Harald hummed in agreement. "I don’t want to fight against you. I don’t want to have to kill you. The world would make no sense."

"I suppose none of this makes any sense to him anyway." Halfdan nodded to the bishop who was standing not too far away from you, who you had turned your back to, and who you had successfully ignored until now.

"He's a great warrior. He doesn’t need anything to make sense," Ivar hissed back over his shoulder.

"By the gods, Ivar, you are just so cynical," Halfdan spat, still there was a deceiving smile on his face, that could have actually made you believe he did mean no harm. "You just don’t care, do you?"

"I care," Ivar snapped in a light tone, not letting what Halfdan was saying get to his head, as once again, a small grin graced Ivar's face. "… about winning this war." For a second Ivar was quiet, which made you look over your shoulder, to see what he was up to. "Halfdan, you have to choose between a friend or a brother. To me, the answer is obvious." Ivar lifted the cup of mead he was holding up to his lips but stopped before it touched them, a disgusted look on his face, as he spilled the rest on the grass underneath. Ivar stood and gripped his crutch, giving you a look, that let you know he wanted to speak to you, ere he walked away, the limp still almost unnoticeable.

Harald caught your eye, as he lifted his cup a tad bit. "More mead."

You snorted, turning back to study the working Vikings some more, as Aratus wrapped himself around your arm. "Get it yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," you replied, watching as the male serpent encircled your hand, extending his neck towards you. "I am done playing a slave. If you want someone to fill your cup, go look elsewhere."

"You should not talk to your king like that," Astrid intervened, making you grin at her.

"And I suppose you should not lie to your husband in this manner either." You shrugged. "We both seem to be quite the rebels, no?" She seemed to immediately know what you were talking about, shutting her lips tightly in seconds, which only confirmed your suspicions. "That's what I thought," you muttered, starting to walk after Ivar. While you passed the bishop Aratus snapped at him with a hiss, making your coo at the serpent. "Good boy."

You wandered through the many tents until you found the one, that had been set up for the two of you. Ivar was pacing in the room, something you had rarely seen, as he usually preferred to sit and let his fury reign over his mind. Without losing a word you took both serpents and set them into the nest you had made for them out of a wooden chest.

"What were you thinking?" Ivar roared and you didn’t even have to look at him, to know his face was all screwed up with anger.

"Well, I was just thinking that a swim in the nearby lake would be lovely," you replied, shrugging off the black cloak and letting it sink onto one of the benches that had been placed in front of the slowly emanating flames.

"All this time you were whining about wanting to be careful, so no one would find out about what you were, and then-" He stopped, the hand that wasn’t holding his crutch, balling into a tight fist. "Why would you do such a tremendously stupid thing?"

"Because all of this time, I was scared something bad would happen to me, if someone found out," you answered, turning to him. "I am not scared anymore." You walked up to him and put your hands on his shoulders, making him tilt his head away in resentment. "Now I do not have to be scared any longer, because I know that no one would dare to hurt me, as I am with you." On the inside, you were grinning from ear to ear, as his eyes shifted back to you, the anger not so prominent anymore. "No one would dare to cross you, my king." You lifted yourself on you the tips of your toes, to be closer to him.

His darkened eyes took to trailing along your body at an agonizing pace, taking in the bare skin of your throat, skimming down your neckline and the swell of your chest. There was a familiar prickling sensation on your skin, as you felt his warm breath hit your skin. Your eyes dropped from his blue orbs to his full lips, feeling one of his hands slowly creeping onto your body, making a tingle curse through you to your lower regions. He pulled you closer to him, pressing your body against his form. A shaky breath left your lungs, as you felt his nose trail down your cheek to your neck, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your hip. "Say it again," he breathed against your neck, making your skin tingle, as your eyes fell shut with how close he was to you.

When you didn’t reply right away, his grip on you tightened, making a whimper fall from your lips. "My king."

A groan rumbled in his throat, as his crutch landed on the ground carelessly, his now free hand finding the back of your neck. For a second it seemed like, he was pulling back, but then his actions happened rabidly. Your lips crashed together, as Ivar forced you to walk backward. You granted him access immediately, opening your awaiting lips, while your fingers clawed at the nape of his neck. Knowing the clips of his armor like the back of your hand, you undid them in seconds, pushing the leather off of his body, followed by his gray tunic. It fell to the floor as Ivar's hands drifted over your body, his grip on you so strong, your feet were barely touching the ground. Ivar led you through the dimly lit tent, until he lowered himself down onto the bed, pulling you on top of his lap, your tights spread around him.

His muscular arm pulled your hips down, clutching you closer to him. A strangled moan escaped your mouth as you felt the tightness in his breeches pressing against you in such a delicious way, your body felt like it was on fire. Your teeth clashed, tongues fighting for dominance, which both of you didn’t want to give up so easily, as his hands gripped your corset, ripping the front wide open. You were about to stop him but before you could, the distinctive sound of your tunic ripping followed and the complaint died in your mouth, as his hand pushed at the middle of your back, bringing your chest to his mouth. Your back arched, a quiet whine tumbling from your tongue. The warmth of his mouth on your nipple was making you clench around nothing in desperation.

His fingers were at the edge of your breeches, pulling, which made your hand catch his, not wanting the next article to end up a useless ripped rag. "No, Ivar-"

"Don’t," he mumbled lowly, pushing your hand away from him, as a growl left his mouth, and not a second later you found your breeches just as useless and torn as the rest of your clothing. "You know what to call me." He freed himself, lifting you slightly, to align himself with your center, ere he pushed you back down with a controlling hand. You whimpered quietly, feeling the slight burn of being filled so enticingly by him. You were about to move, not being able to wait any longer, but his arm around your hips stopped you. He stared up at you. It wasn’t the look of adoration he usually gave you when you were having sex. This was a look filled with demands and burning desperation. "You are mine," he stated, staring up at you. "Say it."

Something deep inside you was telling you no to give in, to think about all the times men tried making you feel small. For years you had to fight for your independence and your survival, but the way he was looking at you, made trust blossom in your chest like you hadn't felt for anyone but your goddess. His other hand gripped the back of your neck, as his nose scrunched up in impatience. An aroused whine slipped past your lips at his force, making you nod desperately. "I'm yours," you whispered quickly. "I'm yours." Your breath was trembling as you let your forehead rest against his. "Please, take me." Once again, you tried to move but he wouldn’t let you. "Please- please, my king."

His eyes hushed between yours, his heart stirrin, as he took in how much you had bent your knee for him, even if you would never actually do so. He wasn’t even certain you were aware of your own state, as lustful moans tumbled from your lips and he was sure it was the most divine sound to ever reach his ears. A grin formed on his mouth, as he enjoyed your clouded state of mind, barely listening to the incoherent pleas anymore, as he wavered in the knowledge, that you had given yourself to him. He had you; all of you. Your bright smile and glowing eyes, your witty remarks, and all the battle you carried inside of you. You were special, so very special and so very special to him, that he could not stand the thought of you not belonging to him.

His skin was clammy after you both had fallen into pleasure, yours, too, covered with a layer of sweat. Heat was tickling your cheeks, your breathing leisurely slowing, still, you could not find it in you to lift yourself off of his lap. The anger he had had in him had vanished, as he attentively let his fingers scratch along your scalp, while you were resting your head on his shoulder. "I want to come with you tomorrow, too."

"Oh-ho-ho, not a chance."

"I don’t know if you did not notice, my love, but it wasn’t a question."

"You are not coming with me, not after what you did today."

"I am coming with you, because of what I did today," you argued, pulling back to frown at him, while he was frowning at you. "Use me to shake their trust in their gods. They shall fear and run into battle with insecurities tucking at their consciousness. Also, given that Astrid is allowed to be there – and she is with child – I should be there, too. And I will."

"Why do you have to be so unbelievably stubborn?"

"Well, someone has to put you in your place."

With a raised eyebrow, he let his thumb caress one of your nipples, making you shiver. "Oh, little witch, you might have to work on that."

They had chosen to meet early in the morning and you were sure, Ivar would not have woken you if it wasn’t for the rattling of his braces, that forced you out of your sleep. A deep sigh left his mouth when he heard you stir behind him. You hadn't even opened your eyes yet, and you knew he was trying to leave without you. Somehow, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him, because you knew that he was trying to protect you in his weird, possessive way, which you somehow appreciated. "You might have to work on sneaking out, my love."

"I wasn’t trying to." You grinned, when you heard his voice jump an octave higher, knowing he wasn’t even trying to hide the untruth of it all.

"Liar," you gave back, sitting up with the wool blanket clutched close to your naked form. You rubbed at your eyes, remembering only then that you still wore hints of the deeply black kohl around your eyes. Your eyes shifted to Ivar, who was looking at you over his shoulder. "My whole face is covered in black, isn't it?"

"No, little witch." He shook his head. "You look like a warrior after battle. It suits you." You smiled at the compliment. "Get ready, I will have a thrall prepare the morning meal in the meantime." Reluctantly you swung your feet over the bed, rubbing at your eyes once more. You slipped into the boots that were placed by the bed and walked towards the chest filled with your clothes. You slipped a white tunic over your head and fixed a grey skirt around your waist, followed by the only black corset you had left. Aratus lifted his head out of the nest from the other side of the tent, hissing quietly, while you were fastening the bindings at the front of the corset. You wondered why the female Vikings kept bringing things like these from raids when they never wore them anyway. There was not a single memory in your head, where you had seen them in anything else but loose tunics or heavy armor. Picking up both serpents, you hid your necklace under your shirt – a small metal piece, showing the wheel of Hecate, which still held a tear you had cried - ere you checked if the rune was still there, or if it had been smudged during your activities last night. You hummed in joy when you noticed there was not a single bit wrong with it and grabbed your cloak.

The Vikings had already begun to gather their weapons and the ones who were destined to carry the spears with the yellow flags on them, were already marching forwards. A thrall moved towards you, a bowl in her hand, which she gave to you, ere she vanished like she had never been there, to begin with. While walking towards where the horses were kept, you devoured the bread and cut up fruits, putting the empty bowl down at some table, before you went on your way. Ivar was already sat on his chariot, the only two who were not on their horses were King Harald and his dear wife. She had a dark glint in her gaze as you moved past her, heaving yourself up onto your horse.

The wind blew through the horse's mane as your rode alongside Ivar, up to the field, where yellow was destined to meet blue. Up high, you could make out 36 blue flags in formation fluttering from side to side, before them three chairs had been set up, sitting on them were three familiar faces. Left was Bjorn, Harald's brother Halfdan standing behind him, on the right side, Ubbe had taken a seat, a blonde shieldmaiden standing at his side, who you had not yet gotten to know. In between them, Lagertha had her spot with a young warrior behind her.

Ivar climbed off his chariot, giving the reigns of the horse to a Vikings who you did not know, ere he walked up to the seat across from his brother, Bjorn. Harald, Hvitserk, and Astrid followed them, while you yourself swung your legs from the horse, hitting the ground more elegantly than you thought it possible. If the situation were any less serious, you would not have been able to hold in the little cheer that was sitting on your tongue. Hvitserk took the seat on the right, while Harald walked to the middle without faltering. Astrid, too, seemed to know her place perfectly as she stopped right behind her king.

When you glid across the field with slow steps, the hood of the cloak almost hiding your face completely, it felt somewhat wrong being here. Death was surrounding the air around you like the battle had already found its end. So many innocent souls lost, to revenge the cost of one. When you came to stand behind Ivar, your eyes fell closed for a second, and your breath was taken away. You did not have to perform a spell to know that half of the people standing all around you were destined to die in a foreseeable time. The serpents on your body held the same magic you carried in your blood, strengthening your senses in a way that was almost frightening, and when your eyes fluttered open, you saw the young warrior across from you as nothing more than a dead man walking. You felt a hit of pain in your heart as your gaze fell to the woman beside him, understanding immediately that it had to be his mother, in the way she was trying to ignore her concern.

Ubbe's stare bore into your skin as you lowered your hood, revealing not yourself but what you had become in those past moons. Were no pure witch anymore, you were not disgusted by these heathens, you were allowed a peek into their culture and chose to accept it for what it was – the reason some of these people still were alive. They believed deeply in their faith and you, too, could not be shaken in your own beliefs. You had started respecting them along the way, even if you sometimes did not agree with them. But now, with a massacre soon to happen so close, some of that respect slipped from your mind.

You had been couped up safely in your coven all your life, you had ignored the truth – the living world as it was known, was built on wars and bloodshed. A heavy weight rolled into your heart because you knew some wars were not worth dying for and in your opinion, this one was one of them. Still, you had to follow your rules. You were not allowed to change history as it was bound to happen, even though you knew better and could have perhaps helped. You did not want to lose the favor of your goddess, as it was said among the high priestesses a traitor would.

"We all know today we have so many shieldmaidens and warriors-at-arms, that we must decide whether we fight or we reach an accommodation allowing us to go live our lives with integrity and honor," Bjorn spoke, looking from Vikings to Viking, ignoring your being here completely. "I call upon my brothers, Ivar… Hvitserk." A crow could be heard in the distance. "Let's put aside our differences, for the sake of our father. A civil war can only bring tragedy, weaken our family, and set in train a lifetime of revenge obligations for those who manage to survive!" He slapped his hand down into his thigh in anger. "Is that really what you all want?"

Ivar was sitting still, his steel-blue eyes piercing into his brother's skull and you could only imagine the many different ways Ivar was imagining how he could inflict in Bjorn the most crucial pain.

"I want to speak up and support Bjorn," Ubbe started. "And his call for a peaceful resolution. It is true I set my face against my brother." Ivar's head tilted towards him, eyes leaving Bjorn for the first time in a long while. "But if you can forgive me, Ivar, let us make an accord."

"We are going to war for the Kingdom of Kattegat," Lagertha spoke, her head held high. "The Kingdom of Kattegat was carved out by my husband, Ragnar Lothbrok, and then by me." She stood from her spot, letting her gaze fall onto Ivar, pleading her point with no remorse for killing his mother whatsoever. You could see, that she was a person who cared deeply for the people she considered family. She was a fighter, a protector, a defender and without a doubt in your mind, had what it takes to rule, but trauma was coursing through her like a black streak. It put a dark spot on her seemingly perfect surface, making you understand that even though she was strong, a human could only take so much loss at a time. There was no shame in it, but there was no honor either. Honor would have been taking a step back, accepting that being radical was not the right decision, but she chose the humane thing. She chose fault. It was what our flesh and bone were made of, it made us the individuals we were fated to become. And fated was the war, like fated were the deaths it would bring with it.

"I am its rightful Queen," she spat, as another crow took to cawing. "What we should be discussing is how we combine our great armies and direct them out towards new lands, new conquests, new opportunities. What a… terrible pity to kill our young men for a piece of land which is already ours." Her eyes moved to her former lover. "Astrid. I am happy to see you again. Whatever has happened, I… I don’t want to fight you." As no reply fell from Astrid's mouth, Lagertha raised her brows. "Astrid."

The new queen let out a sigh, forcing a smile onto her face as she turned to her husband. "I am married now." Her hand glid over Harald's shoulder. "I am King Harald's wife." She may have been an impressive actress but not enough to hide the resentment in her speech as the last word fell from her lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ivar grinning at the exchange, making you nudge him against his back, so the others wouldn’t see.

"Queen Astrid, I suppose!" Lagertha replied, stepping away from her.

Halfdan leaned forward. "Brother, let's not fight. What can we gain? Nothing."

"On the contrary," Harald voiced. "We will gain the world. Join us and I will share it with you."

Bjorn shrugged his shoulders, directing his gaze towards his youngest half-brother. "It is really up to you, Ivar. If you decide that you cannot fight against your brothers – that you do not want to fight against your brothers… then we can find an accord." He raised an accusing finger towards the wannabe King, his face contorted in loathing. "And King Harald can’t stop us."

Lagertha moved up closer to him, standing not even three feet away. "You have so much to lose, Ivar." You tensed as she stepped forward, feeling Aceso slip up to your neck, ready to reveal herself in a flash. "If you want war, then let's have war. But win or lose… You lose." Her head leveled with his. "You gain victory over the other sons of Ragnar and people will say that you are an illegitimate ruler and a usurper. And if you lose, they will say it was by the will of the gods and the will of Ragnar, who now sups with them in Valhalla, and cries for us now." Aceso bit forward with a hiss, making the blonde flinch in surprise, as Bjorn rose from his seat immediately, ready to come to his mother's rescue.

"Tch," you made, softly tapping the underside of her head. Another hiss left her mouth, ere she reluctantly moved back to rest on your shoulder. "Excuse her, she is quite short-tempered." You grinned a bit, as you saw the morbid looks on their faces. "I do pity, that we have not yet been properly introduced-"

"Oh, I know who you are," Lagertha interrupted you. "A slave brought back from York to endorse his sick pleasures."

"Slave," you echoed quietly, the word leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. "A slave, hm. I do not take kindly to people who think of me so low, but as you do not know me, I will let it slide." You stared at her for a second longer, until you turned to look at Ubbe, who could not take his eyes off of you. "Pleasure to see you again, Ubbe." Not waiting for his reply, your eyes returned to Lagertha. "I was thinking, perhaps you, too, would like to know what you are going to lose. Would you like me to tell you who is going to die?" You grinned and nodded to the thirty-six men holding their blue flags. "Thirty-one of them, if you were wondering."

"You can make your assumptions but it will not change their minds. They would gladly die for their faith in us and the gods." Bjorn questioned, still standing.

"Assumption?" You questioned, not able to keep your smirk at bay, as you looked at Hvitserk. "Soon you will see, that I speak the truth and you will feel guilt for not listening sooner. But I can’t change your minds, for as I can not change the want in your hearts, nor will I waste my words on a lost cause."

"Do not do this, Ivar," Ubbe said after looking you over once more. "We are the sons of Ragnar. Is that not enough for any man?"

Ivar stayed silent, as he leaned back in his seat, craning his neck to be able to catch your eye, as he barely lifted his right arm, grabbing your hand which was close to his shoulder. He caressed your knuckles, letting uncertainty and remorse wash over his face. A quick kiss was pressed to the back of your hand before he let go, grabbing his crutch as he pushed himself to his feet. You knew at the moment he barely needed his crutch, but chose to take it with him as a force of habit.

He stood in front of Lagertha, towering over her by a few inches. "Bring horns of mead. We should celebrate." He nodded silently to himself. "There will be no battle today. Nor tomorrow." Lagertha drew in a deep breath of air.

"What are you talking about?" Harald challenged, as he stood. "You cannot decide this!"

"I do not want to fight against my brothers. I still hate myself for killing Sigurd." He blinked away the tears, that were starting to fill his eyes. "This would be 10 times worse. I… I can’t." He shook his head. "I renounce my promise to kill Lagertha. She can have Kattegat. I don’t want it." He grunted as he walked forward, to stand in front of Ubbe and you knew right away, that nothing that he had said was genuine. He was acting the way there were seeing him – weak. "Ubbe, you are right. We are all sons of Ragnar." Shifting from one foot to the other, he directed his gaze onto the ground. "Forgive me." Ubbe nodded without doubting, as the sun rose over the mountain. Even mother nature seemed to have been fooled by Ivar's show, as the wind stilled and the crows found their silence.

Halfdan lifted his cup. "Skol!" A chorus of voices followed as you stared at the mead in your hand, just as Harald turned his cup, spilling what was inside. Ubbe took a swig swallowing and Ivar did too, a grin gracing the face you had come to adore. You knew that grin. Rolling your eyes, you too spilled the liquid, letting the cup fall from your fingers, just as Ivar splashed the liquid into Ubbe's face. Shock was written over Lagertha's face and you sighed, wishing you had gotten a chance to take a seat.

"How blue are my eyes, huh?" He asked.

"What?"

"How blue are my eyes!" Ivar shouted out loud, coming closer to Ubbe.

"Your eyes are not blue at all."

"Mmm," Ivar agreed. "You remember I had to ask you every single morning how blue the whites of my eyes were? Because if they were very blue, I was in great danger of breaking a bone."

Ubbe nodded. "Yes, I remember. It was a big part of my childhood, how blue are Ivar's eyes today?"

"I might break a bone, but I can never break a promise." His hiss came close to the one of your serpents. "I can never forgive Lagertha for murdering our mother. How can you, hm?" He spat. "How can you?!" The shout echoed through the otherwise quiet field, as Ubbe turned to walk away from him. "Hm? Our mother!" Ivar gave him a furious shove, making Bjorn fidget forward just in case Ivar was going to lose his temper anymore. "Of course, I'm going to kill her!"

"You can try," Lagertha mused from her spot.

"Oh, I will," he chuckled, extending his hand back towards you. You laid your hand in his, letting him pull you forward gently. Ivar looked at you in awe. "The gods have chosen to favor me greatly, as they sent my little witch to me." He extended his other hand, letting his thumb grace your cheek sweetly. "I do not have to doubt. I know that I will be king of Kattegat, and your death was assured to me." A slow kiss was pressed to your forehead. "I may not know the exact circumstances of your death, I may not know when, but I know it is soon enough for me to see you go down."

"You said you wouldn’t fight your brothers," Ubbe muttered, staring at the both of you with bright blue eyes.

It appeared that Ivar had to fight his inner self to be able to look away from you. "You are no longer my brother." He pressed his finger forcefully to Ubbe's chest. "You were once my legs, but not anymore."

Ubbe threw his cup to the ground, joining Lagertha by her side. "This was all a waste of time."

"No. Not at all," Ivar answered back. "You can surrender Kattegat now. You've all been talking about how terrible the slaughter will be. How we will kill our nearest relations and members of our family." Ivar muttered along, mimicking them in what they had said. "I don’t want to do that," his voice rose an octave. "Let us not do it." He nodded towards the eldest son of Ragnar. "You. Bjorn." His eyes moved on. "Lagertha. Just go away, leave this place. Do not put your men to the test."

The sound of swords rang through the air, as you pulled out your own knife, just in case. The flags were lowered, rustling as the spikes were turned against one another. Ubbe hurried forward, sword raised, as your blade glinted in the sunlight. "I don’t want to hurt you," he said to you, as you felt Ivar moving closer on your left.

"I'd like to see you try," you responded, already searching together all the possibly useful spells you could perform.

Lagertha put her hand on Ubbe's chest. "Not now."

"Death for all of them shall be the price for your wrongdoing," you spoke, looking at Lagertha, as you let your blade glide along the inside of your palm, pressing your fingers against it, until a drop hit the grass below your feet. "Arescetstirring." It was like a shadow ran over the land, as the green grass started to die. Death ate its way forward, under the feet of the enemies, making them step back in fright, but the ground all around them had greyed. "Thanatos te ad Orcum ducet." The crows previously cawing nosedived for the dead ground, filling the field. "Oh," you made, grinning at the blonde queen. “We will see one another again quite soon, I might assure you.”

You watched them walk away, as some of them cast back unsure looks, ere you were brought your horse and rode back to camp, following Ivar. As you returned you noticed Ivar giving a signal to one of his warriors, who pulled a horn from his belt, taking a deep breath, before its loud sound echoed through the camp.

Ivar was going into battle and Ivar would lose.

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